"Mom, I failed the exam..."
On the screen, a dejected child reported the unfortunate news to his mother.
His mother's temples were streaked with gray, her hands rough as bark, bearing the marks of years of hardship.
She froze for a moment, then forced a smile through her barely concealed sadness and disappointment. "It's all right, son. Keep trying!"
The scene changed to several months later.
"I'm sorry. I passed, but my score was still nowhere near the admission cutoff..."
Tears welled in the child's eyes as he sobbed to his mother.
"Why can't you do better!"
His mother shouted angrily. She was utterly disappointed in him.
Behind the window, his siblings clung to the sill and watched, some worried, some sympathetic, and some resentful.
This was a true reflection of many families in Atrelin.
Although the Arcane Empire had done its utmost to make education universal, miscellaneous expenses beyond tuition and the living costs of studying full-time still weighed heavily on many families.
Even Roland was assailed by memories when he watched it, recalling his previous self's family circumstances.
Scenes flashed by in succession.
The child studied diligently, reading late into the night by lamplight.
The family spent what little money they had on magic lamps, paper, quills, and other supplies. They even steeled themselves to buy a phonograph, an invention of the Alchemy School that ordinarily only the middle class could afford.
Yet several months later, advancing to the next level remained out of reach.
The mother's face was helpless. Her overwhelming despair left her without even the strength to get angry.
The father scrubbed his coal-blackened hands in a wooden basin, equally downcast.
"Stop studying. Tomorrow, you're coming down the mine with me..."
He made the difficult decision.
"Absolutely not!"
Just then, a clear voice spoke from