The Grand Academy

Prologue to Chaos, Chapter 3, Scene 3

Orion Deneri strode briskly down the marbled corridor in the Hall of Philosophy. His face was calm, but beneath his carefully controlled expression he was thinking: This is going to be the start of something wonderful.

It was his first day as an instructor at the Grand Academy of Lannamon. He held a small writing book in his left hand, but carried nothing else. The book contained a set of carefully written notes and an outline for the class that he was to conduct that morning. He had gone over those notes a dozen times during the last few days, carefully editing them again and again, until he could see no way to improve them.

I’m sure I will after the first lesson, though, he thought wryly. His mind flashed back to his time as a student at the Silver Star Adventurer’s Academy. He saw the face of his instructor, and fondly remembered the Archmage’s words. Nothing ever goes exactly as you plan. Adapting to that fact is the first rule of a successful adventurer.

Or a successful life. It was the same principle, he reflected. It just had a little more immediacy if you were fighting monsters in a ruin filled with ancient magic.

Not that he had ever done anything like that. His year as a freshman adventurer at the Silver Star had been wholly theoretical. He still thought of his studies there as the high point of his young life, even though in the end he had chosen to pursue a different career.

That had been a great relief to his family. They’d been horrified at his decision to enroll at the Silver Star. He’d graduated from the Grand Academy with highest honors the year before, and they had expected him to finally put an end to his studies and take up his long overdue position in the family business.

Though far from the nobility, the Deneris were a leading family of the Carlissan Trade Guild. And as he’d grown to adulthood, their impatience with his interest in scholarship had become a source of friction between them. He had a keen mind and an unusual aptitude for finance, and they couldn't understand his reluctance to settle down and apply it to the needs of the Deneri Trade and Import Company. They had told themselves that his odd flirtations with philosophy and history — and then, adventuring, of all things — were just a phase. An eminently sensible boy in other respects, he would eventually outgrow them to focus on the important things in life.

Those, of course, were money and status.

He hadn’t understood, at first, why he’d decided to accept his unexpected offer to apply to the Silver Star. It was an act of rebellion, he’d finally realized, a subtle gesture of defiance against the expectations of his family. It wasn’t that he disliked business, per se. Quite the contrary; he’d always had a healthy appreciation for wealth, honestly earned. The honestly earned part had never seemed quite the priority with his family that it was with him, though. Perhaps that was part of the reason he’d chosen to remain a student for so many years. Books and learning seemed so much cleaner than what he’d seen of life in the Trade Guild.

Recent events, however, had led him to leave his studies at the Silver Star. Those events had started with a letter from one of his old professors at the Grand Academy. Dean Lander was head of the philosophy department, which was sponsoring a new academic program. It needed junior faculty with the right training, and Orion had distinguished himself as a student there.

The idea, the letter explained, was to provide courses for some of the more gifted of the young lords and ladies of the nobility. They wouldn’t be part of the official curriculum, but they would be held at the academy itself. They would bear its imprimatur and carry its prestige. And the pay would, finally, give him the option of a career away from the family business.

That had been three weeks ago. It had been followed by a blur of interviews and applications, and a rush of sleepless nights to develop a curriculum for his appointment as Junior Special Instructor of Philosophy. Now he was on his way to teach his first class.

No, he had arrived, he corrected himself, as he stopped before the door to the lecture hall. It was one of the rooms that bordered the garden, with an outer wall of panels removed for open-air use. The sun was shining brightly, and the garden was in full bloom. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect setting for his first day of teaching.

“Ah, Orion! There you are,” a voice called.

He saw the familiar face of Dean Lander coming toward him along the corridor. Orion stepped forward to meet him, and bowed in greeting.

“Good Morning, Dean Lander,” Orion said respectfully. “How goes your day, so far?”

“Correct and deferential, as always, Orion,” the dean replied. “But also quite unnecessary. You’re one of us now. James will do, I think.”

“That will take some getting used to — James,” Orion admitted with a dry smile. “But I shall apply myself to the task, as always.”

Dean Lander clapped him on the shoulder.

“No doubt you will. So, are you ready for your first day of class? I read the lesson plan you submitted. Impressive. Unorthodox, to be sure. But innovative as well. The review committee had quite a debate over it, as you might imagine.”

Orion’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I wasn’t aware that it had generated controversy,” he said slowly.

Lander shook his head dismissively. “Nothing to be worried about. Professors of the more traditional school are always leery of deviation from the standard lecture format. But these classes themselves are an innovation. They called for a new approach, and you gave them one. Some of us saw what you were trying to do and pointed it out.”

“I’m glad to hear that. So they understood my emphasis on motivation as a factor in designing the curriculum?”

Lander nodded. “As you observed in your proposal, students admitted to the formal programs have already made a commitment to scholarship. But this program is intended to stimulate such interest. To encourage those with the aptitude to appreciate the value of academic training. That required more than just a straight presentation of content. In the end, it led to less debate than your appointment to the faculty.”

Orion’s eyebrows rose again. There was a long pause.

“I didn’t know that, either,” he said finally. “Should I be concerned that my tenure here seems to have been accompanied by so much controversy?”

“Not at all,” the dean said hastily. “Your qualifications were excellent, and never a cause for concern.”

He paused, as though debating with himself. When he spoke again, it was in a hushed tone.

“That concern came from another matter,” he said. “One that we should discuss more privately.”

He gestured toward the lecture room, and Orion led the way in. Lander continued once they were inside and had closed the door.

“This is something I’ve debated talking with you about. Deliberations on faculty assignments are privileged, as you know. However, this concerns something that I suspect you knew nothing about — and if not, then I think you should. I trust that I can count on you to keep this conversation in confidence?”

Orion nodded quietly. He kept his face composed, struggling to control a growing sense of dread.

“Your appointment became controversial because of an attempt to influence one of the regents on your behalf,” the dean explained. “It appears that your mother requested an audience with Lord Oster, and used it to speak in support of your application. Did you know that?”

Orion’s blood ran cold. His family was notorious for its extensive contacts in the Trade Guild, as well as among the lesser nobility. And it was equally notorious for its success in using them to curry favor.

He tried to understand their motive. They had never understood his interest in scholarship, but they had, at least, accepted his decision to attend the Grand Academy. It was something they could parlay into a source of status, and they took advantage of every opportunity to brag about it.

Enrolling at the Silver Star had been another matter entirely. Traditional Kalaran culture had looked askance on adventuring, as a profession, for thousands of years. Despite the many benefits it had brought to the world — such as the discoveries of ancient knowledge and artifacts from before the Grim Times — it had always carried something of a social stigma, particularly to the more provincially minded.

“No,” he said emphatically. “I did not know she did that. It was certainly without my consent or approval. And I am deeply disturbed to learn it. A faculty appointment should be based on academic merit, not on the exercise of personal influence. If this is why I was chosen, then I must, and with regret, tender my immediate resignation. I will stay on until you can find a replacement, of course. But it would be inappropriate to remain in my position, given these circumstances.”

Lander shook his head. “Just the reaction I was expecting. And no, Orion, I won’t be accepting your resignation. Please put that thought out of your mind right now.”

Orion looked at him in confusion.

“You misunderstand,” Lander continued. “Lord Oster was not your sponsor, and your mother’s attempt at favor-currying didn’t help your application. Instead, it nearly killed it. You got the job despite the questions and misgivings it raised. Because your record spoke for itself, and because your sponsor spoke forcefully in your defense.”

Orion closed his eyes, feeling a mixture of anger and gratitude. Gratitude toward his sponsor, who, of course, he assumed all along had been Dean Lander himself — and anger at his family for sullying his achievement with their machinations.

His mind raced, struggling to make sense of what they’d done. When he’d enrolled at the Silver Star, they had threatened to cut him off and throw him out of their home. And for the first time in his life, he had openly defied them. He would attend, he said, taking nothing with him if necessary but the clothes on his back.

They had given in, but their pressure to change his mind and leave the Star had been intense and relentless. Was that why they’d tried to help with his application to the Grand Academy? Certainly they would have thought it a more respectable alternative, but …

Then he understood. A post instructing young nobles would offer him the opportunity to make important contacts. Contacts that he could eventually be persuaded to use to help the family business …

“Thank you for letting me know about this,” he said quietly. “I will need to think carefully on what to do about it.”

“Quite so,” Lander agreed. “Your sponsor was able to save you this time, but in the future, you may not be so fortunate. He convinced the committee — with some help from me, I’m proud to say — that you were an honorable man who would have never countenanced such meddling. Moreover, he seemed to know quite a bit about your family’s regrettable habit of favor-currying, and didn’t hesitate to educate the others about it. Lord Oster was particularly mortified.”

Orion looked at him in surprise. So his old professor hadn’t been his sponsor. Who had? He found himself suddenly consumed with curiosity, but he also knew that this was not something he could ask the man to reveal.

“I won’t presume to advise you on how to handle this matter,” the dean continued gently. “But such meddling by your family can only hurt your career. You will need to protect yourself from it. Indeed, it may end up hurting their own position as well, and more than they realize. Political sentiments are changing in Carlissa, and things will likely be very different for them under King Danor’s new reforms.”

King Danor’s new reforms. Orion could feel the tumblers falling into place in his mind at those words, unlocking the answer to his question. The city had been awash for weeks in rumors about the new laws that the King and the High Council were preparing to proclaim. And it was no secret that the King’s father had been involved in drafting them.

“The Archmage,” Orion said suddenly. “He was my instructor at the Star this past semester, for my course in magical theory. He spoke highly of my work. He was my sponsor.”

Lander grinned. “You didn’t hear it from me, dear boy,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

A sharp knock at the door ended their conversation. It opened before they could respond, and they saw a woman with gray hair that was tied into a tight bun. Her manner was brisk and no-nonsense. She stepped quickly into the room and delivered a flawlessly efficient curtsy.

“Dean Lander,” she said. “The students are here for their first lecture.” She turned to Orion. “I assume this is Instructor Deneri?”

The dean nodded and made introductions. “Dame Marjeune is Mistress of Lessons at the royal palace,” he explained. “She has been assigned to coordinate attendance for your class.”

The matron stepped out of the doorway, and two armed palace guards entered the room. Orion saw them look around, expertly doing a rapid threat assessment, and then choose posts near the open walls to the garden.

“You may enter now,” Dame Marjeune called.

The students began filing in. As expected, he counted sixteen of them, boys and girls of varying ages spanning their teenage years. He waited until they had taken their seats, and a third guard had closed and assumed his post by the door.

“Young lords and ladies,” Dame Marjeune began. “You are here today at the Grand Academy of Lannamon to begin a course of academic instruction in the subject of philosophy. The Grand Academy is the finest institution of learning on the Eastern Continent, and some of the noblest of the aristocracy — including Prince Aron himself — have numbered among its students. To study here is an honor.”

Orion saw several faces in the class turn to look at him. Not everyone seemed convinced by Dame Marjeune’s words. They knew he was not of the nobility, and a few of the haughtier students would object to being instructed by him. His authority would be challenged, and he would have to be prepared for that …

He turned as he heard Lander speak his name. Dame Marjeune had finished her admonishments and given the dean the floor to complete his introduction.

“Instructor Deneri will be your lecturer for this course,” Lander explained. “He is a recent graduate of the academy and one of my most accomplished students. You may also find it of interest that he is a journeyman adventurer, and has studied metaphysics at the Silver Star under Lenard the Archmage himself.”

A startled murmur rippled through the class, and Orion smiled inwardly. The statement had thrown the students’ preconceptions about him into disarray. That could make his job easier …

“He carries the academy’s full authority to conduct the class and to administer and grade examinations, so you would be well-advised to attend him. I leave you now in his care.”

The dean turned and bowed to Orion, then to Dame Marjeune, and then strode from the room. She took a seat by the door, and Orion stepped up beside the podium to begin.

A thrill of excitement ran through him. His preparations had been thorough, and he saw the lesson in his mind now like a map laid out before him — with all the topics like places to visit, clearly marked. He had earned his position despite all odds, and had been recommended by the Archmage himself!

Even news of his family’s clumsy interference could not dim his enthusiasm. It was the last straw in their deteriorating relationship, and he would have to deal with it when the time came. For now, though, he was finally ready to begin his new life as a teacher and a scholar.

“Good morning, class,” he said. The sun shone brightly in the garden outside, and a susurrus of birds twittering lent a fittingly cheerful background to his triumphant mood.

“Before one can undertake the study of any subject, one must first answer three fundamental questions. What is it? How do I know that? And why should I care?”

Orion smiled as a murmur of quiet laughter went through the room. “That last has no doubt occurred to many of you, and we will give it special attention. As we do, we will find that those three questions hold a special significance. Indeed, they are, in essence, the very subject of philosophy itself …”

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Next: Chapter 4 - The Calm Before the Storm