It was too early in the morning. The streets were empty. Roosters were still sleeping. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, as if even the day was considering going back to bed.

Yet the doors of Philautia were already open, candles bright and tall as they kept the halls lit until morning started for regular folk, too. Priests were settling into their usual spots, preparing classrooms for the lesson of the day and the curious minds that were about to learn it.

Paramen took bizarre pride in this routine. He was the first to show, always waiting for the staff to open the door for him, his hands too full with the material he was planning to use for his lecture. Quiz sheets he had printed by a friend, examples he gathered by himself over the weekend- all excessive effort on his part, according to his colleagues. He took pride in that fact as well.

While others were using their free time conversing and sharing a fresh pot of coffee to get mentally prepared for all the critters they were going to have to deal with for the duration of a week, Paramen hovered around his classroom, writing his main points on the board ahead of time so his handwriting was neater. He fixed some of the chairs, rolled his eyes when he found a note on the latest puppet show playing in the square- and made sure to remember to pass by it on his way home.

Maybe puppets were a good teaching method. How would one go about making a play on maths? Or agriculture? A new possibility to consider, definitely. Paramen's grandfather would've surely had plenty of ideas. However hard it is to imagine that old coot performing shows for a younger king Melchior.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. From a royal tutor to a teacher far east of the capital. If Paramen had chosen better, he'd be even further away, training north to wield a blade like his brother is. Passing messages between two generals like his father is.

He was stubborn in all the wrong ways. Held pride about things that didn't matter. That's what his father says, at least. A man who represented the side of Philautia Paramen hated most. Violence, conflict, selfishness— everything that brought one to the top faster. And Paramen, so opposed to how his family thinks the world should work, saw no reason to climb.

"Oh, for goodness sake..." Yet another ridiculous sight left by his students. Nonsensical Logos symbols carved onto the back of a chair. Truly, Paramen attempts to sound them out, but the word is neither meaningful nor are the letters correctly written.

He would've given it one more try if the doors weren't so abruptly opened. The cry of the old hinges startled Paramen to the point of kicking out of instinct, consequently hurting his foot and pushing a desk out of the way. All in front of his cute colleague, who probably came by to wish him a good morning. "... My apologies-" he hides the pain with a tight-lipped smile, moving to fix the mess he's made. "You startled me there."