Empire in Chains: Act 3, Chapter 15

Chapter 15

『This academy looks like some of those places you raised in Corelyn Harbour.』

『Is that a good thing or a bad thing?』

『It’s a weird thing. Like someone took an idea from somewhere else and just plopped it into the middle of the city.』

The Imperial Magic Academy did indeed look like someone had done exactly as Liane said, though Ludmila decided that Clara had done a better job at making things blend in. In Re-Estize and the Empire – and probably the entire region – most buildings were wood-framed structures and used wattle and daub panels to form the walls. The few exceptions to this included monumental stone structures like government offices, aristocratic manors and the occasional brick building.

It had the high-class construction of Arwintar’s government facilities arranged into a large complex of multi-annexed buildings. In addition, the Academy had expansive grounds of well-groomed green spaces, busts of what Ludmila assumed were historical figures, and walkways crisscrossing the entire area. The closest thing it could be compared to was the decidedly more austere temple campus in Corelyn Harbour that was modelled after similar institutions in the Slane Theocracy.

They watched from their carriage as hundreds of students flowed into the gate, forming into groups along the way.

“Why do I get jealous just watching this?” Liane frowned.

“Because most of the students are paired up,” Florine told her. “Lady Frianne, how many of these students are married?”

“Most of the Nobles are either married or engaged,” Lady Frianne said. “Every Noble in the Empire sends their children here at the age of thirteen or fourteen, so the students here form groups out of their houses’ factions. This naturally includes their fiancees, wives, or husbands. It tends to only happen outside of classes, however. The classes themselves are organised in a fashion to break up these groups and expose them to Nobles from other factions and regions of the Empire.”

Even Ludmila could see the tremendous social benefits of the Imperial Magic Academy. Nobles in Re-Estize were tutored to adulthood with limited exposure to other scions. Attempts were made at forging social bonds, of course, but it paled in comparison to what the Academy was doing. It was not only a place for education but one where the social fabric of the Empire’s future leadership was woven.

Factions were allowed to exist here, but, at the same time, the students were forced to examine and interact with ‘outsiders’ who they would not have otherwise. Rural fiefs were generally self-sufficient, so not only were the tenants in a fief isolated from the rest of a realm, but the Nobles were, as well. The relationships between minor Nobles were limited to the alliances that they made and whatever trade partnerships they formed.

House Zahradnik was no exception to this. In the past, they worked together with other border houses, but as those houses diminished and their fiefs fell apart, House Corelyn became their only connection. Ludmila knew who the other Nobles in the duchy were, but she and her brothers only associated with them on formal occasions.

In hindsight, this was quite dangerous. The factions that formed were essentially a political and economic force blind to every other faction. When they did brush up against other factions, that relationship tended to become a competitive one. This occurred all the way up to the great houses, where a Marquis could have hundreds of Noble houses under him, all insulated from the rest of the nation and trying to push forward their regional goals.

At that point, the only rivals to power were other great houses and the only thing that could make them band together was a greater power. This is exactly what had happened in Re-Estize, where a major bloc had formed to keep the power of the King in check. House Vaiself, in turn, formed a bloc of its own and thus the political deadlock of its Royal Court had become entrenched.

As with any other group of Humans, isolation led to ignorance and a slow divergence from the reality of other groups. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that groups of people – be they aristocrats or commoners – defined what reality was and imposed it upon the world around them. This worked until it didn’t and by the time they realised that it wouldn’t, it was usually too late to enact change.

Visionaries who found a way forward for their respective societies did things that were obvious in hindsight. The Emperor of two generations ago who had refined the Imperial Magic Academy into its current form was no different. Not simply a school, the institution actively worked to break down blind factionalism in a ‘gentle’ way: students could always retreat to their comfortable cliques while also exploring what the rest of the Empire had to offer. Furthermore, the Nobles who usually saw themselves as absolute rulers over their own holdings would be lent to the notion that they were part of something greater.

The longer they stayed in the Empire; the more imperial institutions they visited, the less unfathomable the current Emperor became and the more apparent the contributions of his predecessors were to his success. There was no such thing as a Human who could single-handedly build a nation from nothing. The Baharuth Empire of the present was the result of generations of hard work guided by the inspired leadership of multiple visionaries.

In a way, their visit to the Empire reinforced Ludmila and her friends’ resolve as Nobles of the Sorcerous Kingdom. A liege contracted vassals because there was something that needed to be done. It was their job to help lay the groundwork for the future of the Sorcerous Kingdom, just as the vassals of previous Emperors had with the Empire.

Still, the pitfalls and rough stretches on the road to ‘progress’ were on display wherever they went.

“These groups are quite starkly divided,” Clara noted. “I assume that the ones with a more plain appearance are commoners…”

“They are,” Lady Frianne nodded. “Classes are mixed, so the same principles that break down barriers between factions are also at work to expose nobles and commoners with each other.”

『I doubt that would play out very well – the gap here is too wide.』

Ludmila silently agreed with Florine’s assessment. Unless additional measures were employed, simply sticking Nobles and commoners together was just as likely to create friction as it would encourage cooperation. Furthermore, the majority of the students that walked by their carriage appeared to be Nobles. The commoners attending the academy would essentially be outsiders trying to find a place in a foreign culture, and, without support, the walls were simply too high to scale.

The sound of a distant bell drifted through the window and the students quickly vanished into the Academy’s main building. A second bell sounded before Ludmila disembarked from the carriage. At the gate, an elderly man with a long, well-groomed silver beard lowered his head.

“Lady Frianne. Honoured guests. Welcome to the Imperial Magic Academy.”

“Headmaster,” Lady Frianne smiled. “I would say ‘it’s been a while’, but it doesn't seem all that long, does it?”

“Indeed, my lady,” the Headmaster chuckled. “It has only been a few months since your graduation.”

『Hunh…so this is her ‘everyone else’ face.』

Ludmila glanced to the side at Lady Frianne as they exchanged greetings with the Headmaster. She bore a warm expression with an equally warm smile that seemed to flow from the depths of her heart. Combined with the stately, imperial beauty she had been endowed with, the duke’s daughter transformed into a princess of the Empire, beloved by all of its people.

『I like her usual look better. This one feels so lonely.』

『I doubt most people would see it that way, Florine.』

The headmaster led them into the building. Polished halls lined by doors much like what they saw in the Imperial Ministry of Magic stretched to the far end. As Clara had noted, the few people who noticed them in the hallway lit up brightly upon seeing Lady Frianne.

“The first floor of the main building is where classes for first-year students are held,” the headmaster said in a voice that carried down the corridor. “Each class is conducted by an experienced specialist in the field. This includes those who have participated in military operations and direct combat.”

“You put civilians through military training?” Ludmila asked.

“Not training, per se,” the headmaster replied. “Those classes are purely theoretical. The Imperial Magic Academy’s curriculum offers a window into every aspect of imperial life. Through these first and second-year classes, our students can make informed decisions when it comes to their future careers. Aside from the Promotional Examination, practical military training and experience is the purview of the Imperial Military Academy – one of our affiliated Universities.”

Ludmila wondered if the wide variety of different subjects that the students studied would wreak havoc on their class builds. This had become a point of worry for the development of a standard curriculum for her subjects. For the time being, it was basic – reading, writing, maths and basic life skills – out of fear that, if elementary education became too advanced, it might result in build contamination.

They stopped at one of the classrooms, quietly observing the lecture from outside the door. Rather than any vocational content, it appeared to be a course on etiquette. Most of the class displayed looks of boredom while the few commoners frowned in concentration.

“Over the development of our curriculum,” the Headmaster said after they moved on, “we’ve discovered it essential to establish standards of protocol for the student body. Even Noble children occasionally slip through the cracks.”

“How much does it help? Clara asked.

“Once they graduate,” the Headmaster answered, “it is indispensable. Most of our students go on to serve at key institutions throughout the Empire, and observing the proper forms is essential when one regularly deals with aristocrats and other important parties who value them.”

『Nice dodge.』

Without witnessing how students interacted with one another, Ludmila wasn’t sure if the headmaster had deflected the question or not. Liane, however, sounded quite sure.

They went from class to class, where topics from law and administration to engineering and arcane magic were covered. Much of it appeared very simplistic, though some – like the strange formulas in the arcane magic classes – were indecipherable.

“How is the content of your curriculum determined?” Ludmila asked, “I can see how some of these classes are taught in an easily-understandable way, but others appear to be beyond those without at least basic knowledge.”

“Ah, you must be referring to the classes in the magic stream. Rest assured, students taking those classes understand the lectures. When it comes to the children of Nobles, many have already advanced beyond our first-year content. It is more of a review of what they know and how it can be applied.”

She couldn’t wrap her head around that. Her education had included content that would eventually have led to the use of divine magic, but, despite never grasping divine magic, she could at least understand Bohdan as well as Sophia had.

“We must have walked by twenty classrooms so far,” Florine said. “How many students are enrolled here?”

“There are currently over fifteen hundred first-years,” the headmaster stroked his beard with a proud look, “and twelve hundred second-years. There are roughly a thousand seniors, but only a third conduct their studies on campus. The rest are either attending practicums or internships with the ministries or the military. Our students are the best and brightest from all corners of the Empire.”

“You mean to say that there are no branches of the Academy in other parts of the Empire?”

The headmaster nodded at Clara’s question.

“That’s correct. The academy offers a specialised education that follows after basic education.”

“This institution is affiliated with the Imperial Universities and the Imperial Ministry of Magic,” Clara said. “Do you have similar affiliations with the educational organisations that provide this ‘basic education’ around the Empire?”

“Ehm, no,” the headmaster replied. “Students come from disparate backgrounds. The Nobles are privately tutored. Commoners either come from schools run by the Temples or learn from their parents.”

“Are all citizens allowed to enrol at the Imperial Magic Academy?”

“There is a registration process, of course. Those who pay full tuition must also pass a basic examination. An advanced examination exists for those who require subsidised education – to ensure the government’s funding is well spent, you see. Prospective students identified to possess great talent receive scholarships that pay for their entire education. Those who have their education paid for by the Empire are of course expected to serve in the ministries or the military.”

Her friend’s expression did not change as the headmaster answered her questions, but Ludmila imagined Clara reaching out to strangle the stuffy old man with his own beard. Liane kept glancing at Clara as if anticipating just that.

A commoner’s education was inexorably bound with the livelihoods of their families. Regardless of vocation, children started helping out around the household as soon as they could walk and communicate properly. If it was required, they would be taught to read and write. Lucky villages had temple schools. Most apprenticeships started by the age of twelve and as early as six. ‘Spares’ – be they Noble or commoner – were left out in the cold if deemed a liability.

In short, most people started working before the age that the Academy accepted students and the vast majority certainly could not afford to enrol. Though the headmaster presented things in a pleasant-sounding package, what he described was essentially a school that catered to the privileged few.

The Empire ‘advertised’ itself as a nation where personal merit and talent were appropriately recognised, but Ludmila still couldn’t see how this was the case. Success and failure were still largely dictated by the ruling class – they were simply reorganising their elites into those who would fall in line with the ‘absolute authority’ of the Imperial House.

Granted, what the Imperial Magic Academy offered was a far cry better than what was available in Re-Estize – which was nothing at all – but the realities of the Imperial Academy of Magic were nowhere remotely near the universal education that Yuri Alpha strove to establish in the Sorcerous Kingdom.

In Warden’s Vale, elementary education was mandatory for every subject and it was funded by demesne revenues. They were still trying to work out the intricacies of vocational training, but advanced education would be provided for in the same manner. Admittedly, her situation was wildly different from the Empire’s, but the headmaster made it sound like the status quo was perfectly acceptable.

Like so many imperial citizens, he believed that those with ability would naturally rise to the top on their own despite disparate circumstances. Everyone else was simply an uninteresting productive element that required no additional investment.