Isolde and I left the hall without a word. The outside air wasn't fresher, but at least it didn't smell of ceremonial incense or expectations. We walked to a small courtyard tucked between the academy's outer corridors, a sort of green interlude among structures trying too hard to be grand. We sat on the grass. Silent. As if the act could hold back the tide of thoughts we hadn't yet sorted.
Gareth and Leonard joined us a few minutes later. The ceremony was over, but they still carried its echo.
We stayed quiet for a stretch I couldn't measure. Until Gareth broke the spell.
"You really didn't know you'd have to give a speech?" he asked, as if the prior silence had been a thoughtful pause and not a latent tension none of us dared acknowledge.
"Yeah…" I replied, eyes fixed on the sky where clouds were starting to shroud the sun like a curtain falling too soon. "We had to improvise. I guess speeches are usually longer… more planned."
"It was good," Leonard said, reclining on the grass and crossing his legs, claiming the ground like it was his.
"Really?"
"Considering no one warned you, yeah. No one can prepare for something they don't expect. And there's merit in improvisation… if it holds up."
I nodded, not because I needed his approval, but because he was right. In a way, it relieved me not to have failed. In another, it unnerved me to have spoken in front of everyone unprepared. Public vulnerability is the price of visibility.
"By the way," I said, unsure why, "do you guys know anything about the student council? I'm… curious."
"Because of Alicia?" Isolde asked, her irritation barely veiled. She ignored my glance. I chose not to press.
"No. Just want to understand how it works."
"Alicia? You know her?" Gareth's voice carried genuine surprise. Maybe he didn't expect someone like me to have ties to someone so… prominent. "You really know her? After all, your parents are friends with the King. What's she like?"
Isolde answered without hesitation, as if the words had been waiting on the tip of her tongue.
"Proud. Strong. Annoying. Lacks character," she said, without softness or overt resentment. "But also kind, pleasant… passionate. Those things aren't mutually exclusive."
Her contradiction was honest. I knew it because the discomfort lingered after.
"How long have you known her?" Leonard asked from his horizontal perch, as if tossing the question to the sky rather than us.
"I don't remember exactly. Since we were six, maybe?" I hesitated. Because while we didn't spend all our time together, Alicia was always around. Like a peripheral constant. But since she returned to the kingdom… she's been busy. Or distant. Or just avoiding us.
I didn't understand how royalty worked. And though our family is considered noble, that title is more a rusted heirloom than a present truth. Technically, we were… through grandparents we never met. I'd like to. In my past life, I met my maternal grandmother, and it wasn't an experience worth repeating. But maybe here it'd be different. Maybe.
"I see…" Gareth said, with a hint of poorly disguised envy. "Must be cool to have a friend that important."
"Is it?" The voice came from behind us, calm but sharp. Like a well-tempered blade.
We turned. Or most of us did. Leonard barely lifted his gaze, unbothered. Alicia was approaching, wearing a white dress with red embroidery, carefully chosen to stand out against the courtyard's green. As always, her presence was a statement.
And she wasn't alone.
Beatrice was with her. Student council president. White hair, blue eyes. Cold, deliberate beauty. She didn't wear a dress. A black suit replaced the expected formality, and in her case, it was a choice that spoke louder than any speech.
I hadn't noticed her during the ceremony. Fear and pressure had stolen my focus. But now, with a clearer head, I could observe. And assess.
Firm. Distant. Precise.
"What are you doing here?" Alicia asked, sitting beside me with the ease of someone claiming a space by right.
"Looking for some peace," Isolde replied, pressing closer to me as if her proximity could displace the newcomer. The pressure on my sides was tangible. Almost uncomfortable.
"Oh, really? It's the first day of classes. You could go to the administration. Find out which class you're in," Alicia said, leaning closer, resting her chin on my shoulder. A possessive, deliberate gesture.
Isolde tugged me gently. I didn't react. Not out of indifference. But strategy. Sometimes, the safest move… is no move. Becoming a passive object avoided escalating the tension.
"That's what we were planning," Isolde said, her voice taut. "Come on, Lucy. Get up."
"Actually," Alicia said with a soft smile, "I was hoping to borrow your brother for a bit. It'd be good to show him around the academy, don't you think?"
"You can do that later. With me there."
The two traded words like sword thrusts. I was caught in the middle, a stone between two currents. Until something, beyond them both, caught my attention.
It wasn't a voice. Or a sound. It was a presence. A visceral, almost primal sensation.
I knew it.
A gaze. Heavy with intent. Not born of desire or political interest, but something… darker. I'd felt it in my past life. And now it was back. Just as sharp.
My body reacted before my mind. The hair on my neck stood up. My eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for a face to match the feeling.
It wasn't Beatrice. Or the four students with her. Not Gareth, who seemed mesmerized by her. Leonard was still lying down, eyes closed, as if nothing mattered.
Then I understood: the danger wasn't from them. Or even from the present.
The unease between Alicia and Isolde persisted, but it wasn't the focus anymore. What unsettled me wasn't the obvious conflict. It was what hid… at the edges of the scene.
I stood abruptly, uneasy. Like an electric shock had run down my spine. Isolde and Alicia looked at me, first surprised, then concerned, and stood too. I said nothing more. Instinct screamed to leave that place immediately.
"Let's go to the administration. We shouldn't miss class on the first day," I said, already walking toward the corridors.
I passed Beatrice. Paused briefly and gave a slight, measured bow. Formal. Necessary.
"If possible, I'd like to learn more about how the student council works. I'll find you later," I said, with carefully rehearsed neutrality.
"I'd be happy to provide information, Lucius," she replied. Her tone was cold but polite. It didn't surprise me that she knew my name; I'd said it in front of hundreds during the ceremony. Still, her remembering it… carried weight.
Gareth yanked Leonard up with an unceremonious kick, and they fell in behind me. Isolde walked at my side, leaving Alicia behind.
We moved through the corridors. One after another, in a straight line. Some students were already entering their classrooms. Others, clustered like disorganized packs, chatted with the lightness of those who hadn't yet grasped the magnitude of this place.
We finally reached the administrative office. Several students stood against the wall, as if waiting their turn… or afraid to approach the door. None seemed truly intent on entering. The threshold was clear, so I crossed it without announcing myself. No one was at the door. No one inside, apparently. So the four of us entered and sat along one of the walls.
The room was… peculiar. A desk at the back with a solitary chair behind it. Books everywhere: some neatly shelved, others stacked almost violently. A small fishbowl rested on the desk. A shotgun—yes, a shotgun—leaned in a corner, like standard office decor. Indoor plants added forced greenery. A chandelier hung from the ceiling. And together, it all screamed: "This makes no sense, but it works."
Suddenly, a sharp thud echoed from the desk. We turned in unison.
A human figure emerged from under it, rubbing their head, likely from banging it while standing. Their movements were clumsy but not without purpose.
A young man. Maybe my father's age… or a bit younger. His hair, dark green, had the murky shade of a swamp. His eyes, a red so intense they outshone even the King's. He placed a quill on the desk with a mechanical gesture and looked at us. Fixed. Unblinking.
"Who are you?" he asked. His gaze didn't just question our presence. It dissected us.
I felt the pressure in the air. Subtle but real. Like a weight on your shoulders you only notice when you try to move. I forced myself to ignore it.
"Students?" Isolde replied, her tone soft with a barely veiled sarcastic edge. Don't you see, idiot? her voice said without saying.
"Really? Oh! Right… the ceremony's over. Sorry. I'm a bit distracted," he said, scratching his head as if it could clear his mind. "What do you want?"
I couldn't tell if he was stupid or so powerful he could afford to seem it. If my instincts were right—and they usually were—this man wasn't out of place. Not an intruder or a confused employee. He was the director.
Or worse: someone who acted like nothing mattered because he could truly afford that indifference.
"We were told to come here to find out which classroom we're in," Isolde said, standing.
"Huh?" He frowned, his confusion almost cartoonish. Almost.
He sighed and grabbed a sheet from the desk.
"That's supposed to be old Floiyo's job, not mine. But whatever… your names."
"Lucius Van D'Arques."
"Isolde Equidna D'Arques."
"Gareth Rex Sauructe."
"Leonard Da'Dufflain."
We said them in order. Like soldiers on a list we didn't understand. The man scanned the paper, then looked up at Isolde and me. He smiled.
"Well, well… looks like the kids of those two idiots came to wreak havoc too. Nice! Classroom 45, corridor 78."
"That's it?" I asked.
"Yup! All four of you are in the same class. (Really, that's my doing)."
He didn't think. He said it.
"You know we heard that, right?" I asked. He didn't flinch.
"Haha. Just like your father. Alright, get out. Tell the other 34 students outside their classroom is 21, corridor 2."
"How do you know there are 34?" Gareth asked, a spark of genuine curiosity in his voice.
"Mana," the man replied, propping his feet on the desk. He opened a small drawer, pulled out a box, took a cigarette, and lit it calmly. "There are 38 mana sources within a 10-meter radius. You're four. Do the math. Now scram. I need to sleep."
He feigned bitterness, but I saw something else behind that mask of indifference. His mana control intrigued me more than his attitude. Sensing energy sources like that… it was a skill I needed to learn. Not for vanity, but survival.
We stood and gave a brief bow.
"To all the students waiting," I said loudly as we left, "your classroom is 21, corridor 2. The director asks not to be disturbed."
"What?"
"Why didn't they tell us earlier?"
Murmur after murmur. Pointless questions that didn't answer themselves. But that wasn't my problem anymore. If they couldn't make decisions in front of a closed door, they wouldn't last long in a place like this.
The feeling that office left me with was clear: this place wasn't what I imagined.
It was worse.
And I couldn't help but feel excited.
We headed to our classroom. Luckily—or thanks to Gareth's foresight—we had a map of the academy. He'd gotten it in advance, anticipating the challenge of navigating this place. Smart move. Transversomancy could distort even basic orientation, so having something tangible kept us from getting trapped in spiral corridors or stairs leading to nonexistent floors.
Reaching the classroom was easier than I'd imagined. What I found when I crossed the threshold, however, was not.
It was an amphitheater-style room, like the grand lecture halls of my old world. Spacious, almost dark, cloaked in the silence of the unknown. Sunlight filtered through high stained-glass windows, casting patches of light on a floor that absorbed sound. I took a step forward. Despite the sharp tap of my boots, the floor felt… soft. I looked down. A thick red carpet covered the entire surface, like a crimson tongue dampening reality.
"Why's no one here?" Isolde asked, standing in the center of the amphitheater, eyeing the tiered desks. Her voice echoed with a mix of doubt and suspicion.
"Maybe they got delayed like us," Gareth said, spinning around, scanning the place like he was looking for hidden traps.
"Isn't this classroom too big?" Leonard added, rooted at the threshold as if he hadn't decided whether to enter.
"It is," I said, walking slowly, deliberately, toward the seats. "I like it. It's comfortable. But… where's the professor?"
I looked around. Nothing. Not a soul. Just ancient architecture, varnished wood, echoes, and the sense we'd arrived too early or too late for something we didn't know how to interpret.
I rested my head on a desk. The silence wasn't awkward. It was… heavy. Like the classroom itself was holding its breath.
The three climbed up one by one, sitting beside me. Isolde to my left, Gareth to my right. Leonard next to him. An oddly natural arrangement, as if no other order was possible. Time passed. And passed.
Until the door creaked.
The sound tore through the stillness with an intensity that made me lift my head instantly. A guttural echo spread through the room.
An old woman entered. Her white hair tangled like wisps of fog. From our height, I couldn't clearly see her eyes, but I felt her expression. It was the look judges give before passing sentence: distant, indifferent, maybe tired. She carried an ancient book under her arm. As old as she was.
"You're here already? Is this everyone?" she asked, walking heavily toward the desk in front of the chalkboard.
"Uh? Oh… yeah. I think. No one else has come in," Isolde replied, drowsy. The room's lethargy was slowly consuming her. I couldn't blame her. Even Gareth, half-asleep, seemed affected by the endless wait.
"Really? Seems geniuses are getting rarer… Just four. Fine. And Alicia?"
"Alicia? The Alicia?" Isolde asked, blinking.
"Yes. The princess. Where is she?"
"Oh… she's with the student council. Should she be here?"
"I see… Damn Frederic. Those things are reported in advance. Alright. Isolde, come down."
"What? How do you know…?"
"Come down!" she barked.
The word cracked like a whip. Even I sat up straight. Isolde didn't hesitate to move.
She descended immediately, alert. The old woman raised her arm. For a second, I thought she'd strike her.
But no. Instead, she placed her hand on Isolde's head with a gentleness that seemed at odds with her appearance.
"How are you, little one?" she asked, her voice soft, almost maternal.
"What…? How do you know my name…?"
The old woman chuckled softly. Not mocking, but nostalgic.
"Little one, I was there when you were born. You and your brother. I helped bring you into the world. You don't remember me because I haven't seen you since. But now that you're at the academy… we'll spend a lot of time together."
My mind raced. The situation gained new layers. Shared history. Invisible ties. Ancient influences that preceded us without our knowledge.
The old woman looked straight at me.
"Lucius, come here. Don't stay there."
I obeyed without protest. Stood beside Isolde. The woman stroked my head with the same tenderness. No judgment in her gesture. Just recognition. As if she already knew exactly who I was. And I saw her yellow eyes, warm…
"I'm Floiyo," she said. "I'll be the personal instructor for you four. Well… five, really, but Alicia will be absent due to the student council. You can go sit now."
Her voice was unlike anything we'd encountered so far. Not authoritative, not cold, not sarcastic. It was a voice you simply… obeyed. Not out of fear or respect. But because it felt the most logical, the most natural thing. Like following a river's current without question.
It wasn't what I expected.
It was better.