Three Days Later – White Phoenix Academy, Main Classroom
Victoria Velastra stepped into the classroom, her boots clicking softly against the polished obsidian-tiled floor. The large arched windows bathed the room in late morning sunlight, illuminating floating motes of dust that shimmered like tiny stars. The scent of parchment, ink, and a faint trace of burnt mana lingered in the air—a signature aroma of magical academia.
She paused in the doorway, scanning the room.
The front rows were filled with students in embroidered robes bearing crests of noble houses. Their backs were straight, their postures haughty. Meanwhile, clustered toward the back—relaxed, wary, but not without pride—sat the Commoners, known colloquially as Commenters for the whispered way their names circulated among students and staff.
Twenty-three pairs of eyes turned toward her.
Tension tightened the air. They were expecting something—expecting her to challenge them, or worse, ignore them. After all, she was nobility. A Velastra.
Instead, Victoria strode past the nobles without so much as a glance and stopped in front of the back row.
Silence gripped the room.
She extended her hand, palm open.
"I'm Victoria Velastra," she said, voice calm but clear. "And I'm not here to stand above you. I'm here to stand with you."
A few blinks. A pause.
Then a hand met hers, firm and steady. A girl with cropped black hair and amber eyes returned her grip.
"I'm Alex, Crystal smithing, Forge master, Battle mage, Mage Knight," she said, then nodded to the identical girl beside her. "This is my twin, Stella, Crystal smithing, Forge master, Healer, Alchemy."
The boy next to them gave a short wave. "Arwin, War Mage."
A ripple of movement followed as the others stood, one by one.
"Marra – Healer."
"Juno – Crystal Smith."
"Breck – Battle Mage."
"Fiora – Necromancer," she said with a crooked smirk. Her robe had bone-white trim.
"Tallis – Warden. I keep people safe."
"Renn – Mage Knight. Just don't ask me to dance."
"Kita – Healer, second path in Poisoncraft."
"Lorik – Forge Master. Metal sings to me."
"Senna – Alchemy. Explosions are just misunderstood reactions."
"Thorne – Battle Mage. I like things loud."
"Ember – Necromancer. I'm not weird. I'm efficient."
"Hal – War Mage. Lightning's cleaner than fire."
"Nira – Crystal Smithing. Don't touch my tools."
"Davian – Warden. I'm quiet. That doesn't mean I'm weak."
"Eline – Healer. No magic solves everything, but I try."
"Cass – Forge Master."
"Rowen – Mage Knight. Sword in one hand, spell in the other."
"Myka – War Mage. Fire answers when I call."
"Perrin – Crystal Smithing. Structure is beauty."
"Isha – Alchemy. Everything's a puzzle."
Victoria gave a small smile as each name echoed softly. These weren't just Commoners. They were the future. And she had just shaken hands with it.
"Now that we've met," Victoria said, "how about we show the nobles that magic doesn't care about blood?"
Arwin laughed. "Welcome to the back row."
She grinned. "For now."