Late in the Month of Scorching Wind (August), in the commoners' district of Rontard.
After both parents had left for the seafood company and the crystal-lamp workshop respectively, Langman was home alone, leafing through the books he had purchased over the past few months, silently thanking the God of Truth and thanking the Archanists.
Ever since that abominable radical wing of the Church had been expelled by the Arcane Council and the moderates had taken power, the books that had once been prohibitively expensive had become far more affordable. Even a child from a commoner's family like him could now buy one or two books every few months with his parents' support — a luxury that would have been completely unthinkable in the past. For someone who treasured books above all else, it felt as though even the sunlight had grown warmer and more radiant.
Langman had learned from the Voice of Mysteries that papermaking had in fact been invented hundreds of years ago. After long periods of improvement, the price had dropped to the point where a large stack could be bought for a single copper Nar. Printing technology had followed a similar trajectory. But the radical wing of the Church, in order to monopolize knowledge and monopolize the channel of communication with the Lord, had deliberately suppressed printing technology and encouraged hand-copied manuscripts, keeping books at absurdly inflated prices for a prolonged period. Apart from the nobility and wealthy merchants, it was exceedingly difficult for ordinary people to learn to read and acquire knowledge. Fortunately, through the Arcane Council's covert dissemination efforts, Rontard's average level of education had reached a passable standard.
Now, the times had changed. Knowledge was still precious, but it no longer exceeded reasonable limits, because the alchemy workshops and the great nobles were desperately in need of laborers with a basic education.
He flipped through the book — it was one about common creatures found in nature, illustrated with vivid drawings that made even Langman, who had only learned some characters from his father, read with rapt attention. His father had climbed up from the bottom rungs and, after becoming a mid-level supervisor at the seafood company, had received instruction in literacy and fisheries knowledge.
"Werefolk, kobolds, goblins, giants, barbarians, dodo birds…" As he gazed at the book, Langman felt as though he had been transported into a dazzling, multicolored natural world, surrounded by creatures of every shape and appearance. They shared certain similarities, yet each possessed utterly distinct characteristics, intoxicating the mind and soul. "Saving up months of pocket money to buy this book was absolutely worth it!"
Knock, knock, knock — the sound of someone at the door pulled Langman out of his ocean of knowledge.
"Who is it?" he called out, his back snapping straight. A sudden tension seized him — he was just a child home alone. What if it was robbers, thieves, or the brutal Night Watch that the Voice of Mysteries always told stories about…
Knock, knock, knock — a voice came through the door: "Open up! I'm a mail carrier from the Kingdom Postal Service. You've got mail!"
Langman immediately let out a breath of relief, silently laughing at himself for having listened to too many horror stories from the Voice of Mysteries and growing jumpy even in broad daylight. Robbers, thieves, the Night Watch — didn't they all only come out at night?
He pulled open the door and saw a young man with a kindly smile, dressed in dark green postal attire, carrying a heavy-looking parcel strapped to his back and holding two letters in his hand.
"Your mail," the mail carrier said cheerfully.
Langman took the letters and first noticed the exquisite stamps affixed to the envelopes. These were the very first batch issued by the Kingdom — one bearing the portrait of Her Majesty the Queen and the other bearing the portrait of Lord Evans, each representing a different denomination.
"These stamps are beautiful — I should cut them out and collect them…" Langman thought absentmindedly before turning to the sender and discovering it was from his aunt, who had married and moved to Paphos County. Joy immediately flooded his heart. Before her marriage, his aunt had been the one who doted on him the most. But her husband was in the county seat of Paphos, and although it wasn't that far from Rontard — just a few hours by arcane steam train — communication was difficult. Finding a reliable friend or merchant willing to carry letters was no easy matter, and it was quite expensive. They had managed only one exchange of letters per year, practically losing contact entirely.
Now everything was different. Langman glanced at the value of the stamps and realized that even his own pocket money could cover the cost of one letter per month.
Thank the Lord, thank Her Majesty the Queen, thank Lord Evans, thank Prime Minister Russell, thank the Kingdom Postal Service. He drew a cross over his chest, then looked at the second letter and his eyes went wide: "An admission notice? Rontard First General Education School?"
Huh?! I've been admitted!
Langman felt an enormous wave of joy crashing through his heart, as though something had burst into bloom inside him. Words of thanks poured from his mouth toward the mail carrier, his eyes blurring with tears.
Since the pilot program had only just begun, the Royal Family and the Arcane Council had jointly established just two General Education Schools in Rontard for the time being, simply named First and Second. Thus, even though the tuition was now affordable for many commoners, the number of people who wanted to get into either school was astronomical — perhaps not even one in a hundred would be so lucky. Fortunately, Her Majesty the Queen had established a fair admissions method: the Unified Entrance Examination, which gave him a chance to prove himself.
"I can really study now. I can really learn about Archanist knowledge and the basics of Arcane Magic…" Langman stood there in a daze, his mind a churning sea of thoughts, utterly unable to calm down.
"Please sign to confirm delivery, or press your thumbprint if you can't write." The mail carrier had delivered many such admission notices that day and was quite used to the reaction.
Only then did Langman snap back to reality and accept the fountain pen from the mail carrier — this was apparently a type specifically introduced for popular use — and wrote his name on the delivery receipt.
"Thank you, sir. You've brought me incredible happiness." When Langman returned the fountain pen, he thanked the mail carrier with complete sincerity.
The mail carrier chuckled: "Seeing your happiness makes me feel good too. Once I've saved up enough money, I'd like to attend a General Education School myself. Maybe we'll end up as fellow alumni someday."
Langman's cheeks flushed red as he said: "May the Lord bless your wish and make it come true. Sir, being a mail carrier must be very tiring — you carry so many letters and parcels every day."
The mail carrier smiled: "It is tiring, but it won't be for much longer. They say we're going to be issued a new device called a bicycle."
"A bicycle?" Langman furrowed his brow in confusion.