Kenton lay staring at the ceiling. It was his last day in Crescent Tide before leaving, and he had been released from the day's training exercises. Would he really miss the spartan quarters of the military barracks, or would he embrace his new—if temporary—home?
He got up, and rechecked his bags. Clothes, books, charcoal and paper... he wouldn't need much else. Would he? His father didn't have much to spare financially after fixing what the war had done to them both. Kenton intended to meet with the headmaster shortly after arriving to the school. Perhaps he could work out a deal, make some money and offset his tuition? Maybe he could make a little extra on the side and get a blanket. He'd heard the region was cold, and even snowed.
Kenton frowned distastefully. He'd definitely need salt if that were the case. If the Academy was as good as it claimed to be, he'd have everything he needed within a reasonable distance.
His frown deepened all the same. Nothing made him feel completely at ease. Leaving his people so soon after war, leaving his incapacitated father to lead the decimated military, leaving the admittedly incompetent prince to take over in his place... nothing was as he had hoped it would be. But, he reasoned, there was bound to be a good outcome. After all, nothing bad ever came of education, did it?
