Preschool existed to arm them with everything they needed to survive the perils of their first Trial. After passing, they would enter the Academy, where they would learn what being a Blessed truly meant. The Academy offered their sole chance to mingle with other Blesseds from different Archon Provinces.
But Auren remained uncertain about his own fate. Or rather, he hadn't decided what to do yet—if he'd wake up, if he wouldn't. If he wanted to attend the academy, if he didn't.
He needed to understand what being a Blessed meant, though. The scraps he'd gathered from hearsay reeked of propaganda designed to control the masses. Feed them what they needed to believe.
Only actual Blesseds knew the ugly truth that lurked beneath. If Auren wanted access to that ugliness, the academy was his gateway.
He threw his head back, shoulders slumping, and released a bone-deep sigh.
"Well, I can worry about such matters when all of this is over."
