ALA

The more time I spend in this place, the more it shows that I have only given wrong answers so far.

I thought I managed to give a good answer during that surprise discussion with the Princess of an Empire that could destroy us in seconds. Maybe I didn't.

I walk into the class Domingrad assigned me to with every single student's eyes on me. 

Even with Kia, the purple-haired girl that everyone couldn’t stop admiring, ahead of me, by now everyone had their attention on me.

I suppose it's because I don't have a surname. I am surrounded by the children of the world's most eminent political figures, so to them a person like me is as dirty as a sewer rat.

I should have just lied, now that I think about it.

"Uaaah..." a yawn involuntarily escapes my mouth. The last remaining seat in the room is in the back to the left, next to the person I should be avoiding.

Well, I will simply do nothing this time. Surely everyone will forget about me soon enough.

I cannot criticise Johefus' decorative skills, this room looks really expensive. The desk, still empty, at the front of the room seems to be made of fine wood, a light brown I have never seen.

Above it is a yellow globe, probably gilded, as well as a few very old-looking books, pens, pencils, rulers and the tiny edition bust statue of our emperor.

This portrait is quite realistic, Johefus... too bad your head is a bit bigger, you megalomaniac.

I can expect nothing less from someone who decides to call the new capital of his empire Johefburg.

The rest of the room is as I expected. Longer than it is wide with several rows of single desks separated by a metre or so, and several students already planning to join one or two of their tables to stand together. The chairs are more comfortable than anything I've ever sat on.

And blue eyes looking at me with interest. The scariest thing in the room.

Do you want me to antagonise everyone in this class? Is that your goal?

I look at Kia Helleslan, whose name I will never forget by now, with a face that seems to be asking this question. 

I don't think she can understand it, though, as she chooses to continue looking at me without changing her expression at all. In fact, she moves her purple hair far from her face so that I can see her better.

I’m not admiring you... whatever.

"Fine. I suppose this is Class 1A." 

A male voice forged by time interrupts the flow of my thoughts. I was aware of the door opening, but the person in front of me is a surprise.

'Zayen Valdai.' I say to myself. A friend, more or less. He collaborated with me and Domingrad when it would have been more useful not to. He's a familiar face, that’s a better term.

At least he’s someone I know. The first one I see today.

Zayen Valdai is a very famous mage. I'm convinced that everyone here knows him, even if I'm his only real compatriot.

There are many people from the Black Empire in this room, must be about fifteen out of thirty pupils, but at the same time none from Black City. 

That’s where both me and Zayen come from, although we lived in different areas. But I’ve known him, at least by name, for a while now.

The old capital, a controversial city, has remained very independent in the new Johefus-led Empire.

What does that mean for my great city? Nothing very elaborate. 

Simply that the megalomaniac did not know how to handle such a complicated reality, and left it as it was. 

There are many Academies almost as prestigious as the New Royal Academy there, so its citizens aren’t really missing anything.

In any case, the name Zayen Valdai has expanded far beyond the walls of that metropolis, which is why everyone here knows him.

He is perhaps the second most powerful mage in our Empire and has perfected the use of elemental and light magic, and has maintained his dominance by betraying the old king and allying himself with the rebels during the revolution.

So I make him out to be a horrible man, but in truth he is charitable and kind. Or, he can be at times.

Hey, I'm in trouble. Can you help me out? I said too much. I mean, maybe I said too little.

I stare at him with a look that sends this message. At least you understand me, right?

Then he returns the gaze. 

"I don't recognise any of your faces. I will be happy to get to know you in time."

What... what are you doing? What kind of policy is this?

"Don't worry. I heard that you are all people of a certain value."

He says it while smiling, touching his silver grey moustache. I understand. 

We'll pretend we don't know each other. 

Just like I'll pretend I've never seen you if an army led by Kia Helleslan ever knocks on your doors. Fair enough.

“You all don't seem that enthusiastic. Is it by any chance because I look too old?" Zayen asks in an equally playful voice. 

Indeed, everyone's faces show a certain disappointment or disinterest. Justified, actually. 

"If you examine my face, it will not be very dissimilar to that of your millennial next door neighbour. The difference is that, despite the years, I still fend for myself well."

He feels the need to let everyone know just how powerful his magic can be.

So, I suppose he won't blow anything up this time.

Right?

Boom. 

"This is just a taste of my power. Behold, behold, and be terrified! Let terror assail you!"

And here is how a place so beautiful has already practically turned into Hell. 

The flames engulf the golden globe, a great loss for humanity, and the statue of Johefus, a great victory.

The old man is still the same as he was a year ago, back in the days of war.

Good to know. Even if his memory fails him when trying to recognise me, he still manages to blow things up.

"I will be your teacher of practical and theoretical magic. If you listen to me and obey me like good children, then you will reach the same level as me one day!"

And there's the maniacal laugh. He really remained the same.

"Of course I'm joking!!! You will never be like me, but you can try!"

His eyes shine with ill-concealed madness. I know him well enough to have some idea of what's coming.

Let’s write.

-=-

KIA

The lesson passes quickly when you already know most of what is being said.

Not to boast, but I think that out of all the classes, magic scares me the least. Back home they already had high opinions of my spellcasting.

And high would be an understatement, considering that I have been praised for my magic countless times.

I have been praised for many things, actually. Not to brag.

What I'm thinking about the most is the little girl standing next to me. 

Her honey-coloured hair perfectly hides her face and her gaze is completely directed towards the desk and the papers she’s writing on.

She is absolutely noting down everything, as one would expect from a commoner that’s thirsty for knowledge, completely unaware of all the eyes heading towards her.

Very cute. She’s repaying the favour to the noble who allowed her to enroll here.

But she still sticks out like a sore thumb.

The faces around me, except her, are all very familiar. This class, Class 1A, was probably put together by Johefus himself.

He would have every interest in doing so, as this place not only hosts the most famous nobles and royals, but also his son. 

And then there is this commoner, who is nobody's daughter but is attending at the behest of the king's brother?

Does Domingrad want to adopt her? In that case she must be very talented from the start.

I gaze at , while she does not deign to look at me. She is writing in her notebook, as one would expect from someone hearing this information for the first time.

Professor Zayen Valdai, an emeritus wizard of the Empire, will have plenty to make us aware of in order to be better wizards. But the first and necessary lessons, on the basis and theory of magic, are things everyone knows. Except you, apparently.

And indeed, the man with the bright grey eyes, which match his hair, is hardly listened to as he touches his moustache.

He walks from one side of the room to the other as he continues to explain in the same monotone voice, only to stop and have another fit of madness.

"Alright, guys. I want to see if you're listening to me now! Which one of you is going to tell me the last twenty words I said, in the exact order I said them?"

And suddenly everyone plunges into chaos.

It was to be expected that this old fox had a few tricks up his sleeve. It is no coincidence that they assigned him to this very class.

The horror in people's faces is palpable. In front of me, two sons of earls exchange looks of confusion.

To my left, however, I hear a gasp. I hardly burst out laughing. What an overreaction.

You shouldn't have this kind of reaction. It only makes him feel better.

It is no coincidence that now that sadistic magician is smiling like he did when he burnt half his desk an hour earlier.

In fact, he almost seems to enjoy watching them suffer.

I think for a moment about the past twenty words the professor has spoken. 

It does not seem a very complex exercise to me, he speaks slowly and articulates the terms he uses well.

In a few seconds I am ready to raise my hand.

And apparently I am the only person capable of doing so.

"Only two of you... I'm disappointed! I was expecting great things!"

He pronounces these words while smiling and touching his moustache in delight, aiming to further taunt the terrified students.

"So, only two of you raise your hands?"

That's right. Only I—what?

My eyes immediately go in search of the second person who was mentioned.

It doesn't take long for them to find her. She is just to my right.

For the second time in this class Aladora, that strange little girl of humble origins, looks at me and smiles.

I see before her eyes a perfectly accurate transcript of everything that has been said so far, with the exact words used.

Did she know that such a question would be asked? I can't believe it.

So it wasn't luck before. This person has the ability to know others and what they’re planning to do. She understands them just by looking at them.

''It's not bad either way. You others didn't expect it. Get used to absurd questions from me."

The professor doesn't seem discouraged. With that talent of his, it's normal he has the intuition to understand the absurdity of his sudden question.

"In any case, I don't want to know my last twenty words. Maybe I'll ask you next time. Today I don't want to know if you are bluffing…”

She pauses for a second.

"...Princess Kia, if I'm not mistaken, and Aladora."

Then he smiles for a second, as if he's been caught red-handed. And he doesn't wait another second to point out his fault.

"Oops! Maybe I actually remember some names... excuse me..."

And then, as if nothing had happened, he goes on to talk about all the different theories in history aimed at explaining how magic works.

What I can notice with the tail of my eye is the way everyone looks at the commoner girl.

By answering in such a way, I’d say she’s walking towards her death sentence.

If the fussy and ranking-minded nobles were not jealous or angry before, but just disgusted, being taunted by a great mage while this girl no one has seen has an answer to the question… such a thing has put them over the edge.

You don’t need to be a genius to realise they’re seething.

And that’s part of what I meant. They don’t care about me, as if it’s just natural that they’re meant to be lower, they only care about her and that she should be below them.

Is it pitiful and unfair? Of course.

But, in some way, I really wish I could be the one receiving those nasty looks.

It’d be way more fun.