Inheritor of Strength (Book one of Alfireán age)

Brockovich's School of Magic

Alf snuck out of the house as soon as Harold drifted to sleep.

In a matter of hours, he swam to the bottom of Brokovich lake, climbed to the top of the local mountain, explored every nook and cranny of the town, ate steak for the first time, and taste tested dozens of different types of spicy food. It felt like he had twenty years of living to catch up on, and he had only just begun.

Late in the afternoon, Harold found him climbing a fruit-laden coconut tree on the edge of town. Just as the butler opened his mouth to issue another one of his long, laborious lectures, the sound of the Emperor's voice boomed in the skies. As Drokovian II addressed all of Alfireá with a nationwide scrying, Alf scuttled down the tree, broke open a wild coconut, and handed half of the fruit to his friend. With a sigh, the butler accepted the bribe and turned his attention towards the sky as the Emperor officially announced the death of Alfonso Vivyander Brockovich the third, the seventh High Lord of Alfireá and subsequently expressed his remorse over such a great loss.

The whole nation listened in stunned silence as the Emperor spoke on of the many accomplishments and good deeds the Brockovich family had performed. Just as the two of them finished their impromptu snack, Drakovian II declared, "Alfonso Vivyander Brockovich the third, we will remember you for all of time. You shall henceforth be known as the third Dragoon of Alfireá, Alfonso Vivyander Brokovich III, the Fearless One." He bowed his head. "May your soul find peace in the arms of your loving Savior, and may the Most High welcome your soul into the heavens above." He then raised his head and announced, "In honor of our new Dragoon, his estate shall hereafter be known as Brockovich's School of Magic, the highest magical learning institute in this Empire." The Emperor smiled as if he held some great secret then continued, "Its doors will officially open at the beginning of next week. May all who seek knowledge find refuge in its elegant halls." And so saying the scrying faded.

At the Emperor's shocking announcement, the butler dropped the remains of his coconut, and a monkey swooped in to grab his leftovers as Harold looked at Alf with a startled expression. Alf ditched the rest of his coconuts, and together with his butler, they high-tailed it back to the manor.

For the next few days, Brockovich Estate, along with the entire town, flew into a flurry of preparations as they acquired the necessary supplies and set Harold's plans into motion. The rooms in the manor were turned into classrooms and dorm rooms; sections of the surrounding jungle were transformed into training grounds, and world-renowned teachers were interviewed and hired via scrying, all within the matter of a week.

Finally, after seven days of tireless labor and controlled chaos, Brockovich's School of Magic officially opened its doors.

Much to Alf's surprise, forty students instantly enrolled—he'd never expected such an overwhelming response. But that was only the tip of the iceberg; dozens of children from across the Empire arrived by horse or carriage every day, in spite of the teleportation stones remaining locked.

As the rooms in the manor rapidly filled to capacity, and the spare rooms in the hospital filled to overflowing, it became apparent that the students would need their own dorm.

An architect from Glandledale was hired, and Alf watched in fascination as the nobleman marked out the floor plan on the Brokovich Estate, and then several of his hired hands used earth magic to form the foundation.

That night, when everyone else went to sleep, Alf snuck out to the newly cleared land to try his own hand at earth magic. He started small, simply forming the outer walls of the building, but before the night was over, a massive castle of earth and stone, with turrets, crenellations, and spires reached high into the sky.