Arcadia's Ignoble Knight: The Sorceress of Ashtown

The Headmaster's Request

It was early Saturday morning. There were no classes that day, naturally. Just like any normal institute of learning, students of Arcadia's Knight Academy were given weekends off. Spirits only knew what kind of trouble would happen if students weren't given a break from professors trying to cram as much knowledge into their heads as possible―and from instructors who felt it was their sworn duty to physically break and remold each student under their tutelage into perfect fighting machines. Chaos, Caspian imagined.

While most students would use the weekend to head into the small town just outside of the academy and spend their time hitting on girls or something, for Caspian, having the weekend off would normally mean hitting the books, or practicing in one of the courtyards that received less traffic.

The library was a place of sanctuary for him, especially on weekends. No one else enjoyed reading simply for the sake of reading. Even he didn't like it that much. But, it was one of the few places where he could be alone.

He wouldn't be doing either of those things this day. Last night's message had pretty much confirmed this. Instead, he found himself standing in front of the headmaster of the school; Lisander Strettelo.

The headmaster was a man in his later years and well past his prime. Despite this, as well as the fact that all of his hair had long since turned gray, he didn't look much older than someone in their mid to late thirties. There was a youthfulness about him that belied his age. Caspian assumed it had something to do with his physique. He might not be a muscle-bound brute like Julius, but by the Spirits, did the old man keep himself in good shape.

"Alright, I'm here, old man. What sort of errand am I going to be running for you this time?"

"You're as rude as always," the old man in question snorted, but didn't do anything to reprimand him for his apparent lack of respect.

"You didn't accept me into this institute because I was polite."

"It technically wasn't my decision to let you into this institute period, in case you forgot."

Caspian had not forgotten, but he also knew the old man was just giving him a hard time. Headmaster Strattelo was one of the few people who didn't hate him for not being a noble. He respected the old man, even if he didn't know exactly how to show it.

Shrugging, he said, "so what did you call me in here for?"

"I have another task for you." Which basically meant the headmaster wanted to use him as an errand boy for some mundane assignment. This wouldn't be the first time he'd been sent out, and it most certainly wouldn't be the last. Caspian was not a noble. He lacked the funds required to become a student of this institute. That was the entire reason Headmaster Strattelo could send him out on missions. This was his way of paying tuition.

"Is it another courier mission?" Caspian asked.

"More or less," the headmaster said, standing up, the many medals he'd earned throughout the years jingling against his dark gray uniform, which signified his position as a former commander in the Arcadian army. Although every countries military had long since been disbanded―with only a small token force remaining―people like Headmaster Strattelo were still in high demand.

The headmaster of the school had once served Arcadia's army with great distinction, and was well-known for his fighting prowess and brilliant tactics during the Succession Wars. After the war, when Sylvia de Floresca demanded the disbanding of every nations military, she had tasked him with the job of supervising this academy.

In the words of Christo, Lisander H. Strettelo was a bonafide badass.

Not that Caspian cared about the man's badassery.