"Good Morning Everyone, and welcome to the Cryptic Academy!"
After saying this, the man standing on a small stump elevated above the crowd receives scattered applause from the juveniles before him.
"Here is where your young minds shall be sharpened, where your skills shall be honed, where your lives shall be dramatically altered. Today is your first official day at the Cryptic Academy!"
A young voice comes from the crowd, "And why would we want to do a thing like that? What if I don't want to? It all sounds rather silly to me..."
"Young man, what is your name?"
"Octorius Pickot"
The man on the stump pulls a scroll from his pocket and quickly jots something down, returning the scroll to his pocket upon completion. Looking back to the youth he cleared his throat and began to speak.
"Octorius. You and all those with you are going to be sharpened, because I said so. I am the forge master here, and if you do not follow my instruction, you, like a poorly crafted sword, will shatter before my hammer. Now, it doesn't have to be that way, we are fair at our academy, we stick to our rules, we expect a certain amount of cooperation from you, but it is nothing more than your parents would require of you were you at home. Now, if anyone has any questions, ask them, if not... We shall continue."
After a few minor questions from the new students, the man closes the ceremony by saying, "Alright now, I would like to welcome you one last time to the academy, and now, your first instruction. Boys go to the eastern dorms, and girls to the western dorms. Your names our on your doors, now enjoy your first evening getting settled at the academy!"
As the students begin to disperse, the instructor remembers something, and quickly turns to mention it.
"Oh! I almost forgot, start reading the book in your room, it is an overview of the academy, and also contains the rules within. Now, be on your way.
As the students shuffled away, Octorius ran to catch up with the instructor. "Sir!" he shouted somewhat indignantly. Quickly, the instructor turned to face him; with deep set eyes he gave the boy a snake's glare. Paying no heed to the deadly expression, the boy continued, "Sir, why did you belittle me? Had I really been wrong to inquire?" He glanced tentatively at the instructor, waiting for a reply. Clearing his throat, he gracefully reached into his pocket and removed the scroll once again; placing marks the youth could not see. At the same time he simply stated: "It was not your turn to speak." As the instructor turned to leave, Octorius once again approached him, "Sir, you never answered my question. Why would we want this?"
Realizing that the young man would not be satisfied, he smirked, turned again to face the youth and began. . .
"You show great promise lad, you have no sense of fear. However, you must learn respect. Some day you will make your mark on history, but first you must learn patience and humility. You are of a strong continence lad, and what you must learn, will in no way be easier for you then the others here today." Pausing shortly, in attempt emphasize his words, he slowly lets the smirk fade. "Boy, you will not want to learn. In fact, you will most likely hate it. But, it will improve who you are, and in years to come, you will be proud to say, 'I mastered the Cryptic Academy'."
Octorius had started staring at his feet shortly after the instructor had started talking again. Now, as he looked up, the instructor was nowhere to be seen. Such was the beginning of the one called Octorius Pickot
~Historical Scrolls of the Cryptic Academy, 1st year