Kassandra was sitting through a lecture on theoretical combat against the undead when the professor suddenly fell silent and shifted his gaze toward the staff lying beside him.
It had begun to glow.
He picked it up, listened to someone speaking through it, nodded a few times, then slowly swept his gaze across the stufons in the room before stopping on her.
"Stufon Kassandra, report to the admissions office. There's a new stufon waiting there who needs to be escorted to the swordsman wing. Compensation: plus fifty academy credits."
The professor's tone was calm, almost casual.
Kassandra looked at him, already preparing to refuse.
Then she heard о пятидесяти кредитах.
That softened her resistance considerably.
"Fine," she said. "He's in admissions, right? Do I get the credits after I escort him, or can I collect them there?"
Academy currency meant everything.
Professors had an annoying habit of making students do things that were either dangerous, painfully time-consuming, or both.
"He's in admissions," the professor confirmed. "You'll receive payment from one of the professors in the swordsman wing. They've already been informed. Once you're done, return here."
He watched as she stood and headed for the exit while several nearby stufons started whispering among themselves and throwing her knowing looks.
Some even winked.
Idiots.
Kassandra ignored them and left the classroom.
The lecture itself had been optional for her anyway.
For her race, fighting the undead was barely more complicated than dealing with unruly children.
Dark elves were both blessed and cursed by nature with affinity for dark magic, and many undead—along with spirits—were simply products of that same magic.
As she walked through the academy halls, she passed dozens of students heading to or from lectures.
Eventually, she reached the admissions office.
After knocking and hearing permission to enter, she stepped inside.
A young man sat waiting.
Black clothing.
White hair.
And in his eyes—
sadness.
Resignation.
Something tired.
Deep inside, Kassandra silently cursed the professor for choosing her.
She knew exactly how humans reacted to dark elves.
Light elves and dark elves differed not only in magical affinity, but in appearance and style.
Light elves favored modest, elegant clothing in pale tones.
Dark elves wore more revealing outfits that emphasized their physique.
A cultural choice that humans interpreted with all the subtlety of a falling brick.
And then stared accordingly.
"Kassandra, this is Stufon Trey. Please escort him to the swordsman wing, then return to your lecture."
The light elf's tone was cold.
The hostility between light and dark elves had existed for centuries.
Technically, those days were over.
Technically.
"Yes, I know. My professor already informed me."
Kassandra glanced at Trey.
"Come on, Stufon Trey. I'll take you to your wing."
She waited for him to stand.
Trey rose from his chair, picking up his travel bag in one hand and carrying the academy map and rulebook in the other.
As he reached the door, he turned toward the elf receptionist and bowed politely.
"Thank you for the information. Goodbye."
His voice was calm and measured.
Opening the door with one hand, he held it open for Kassandra to pass first.
Kassandra clicked her tongue softly.
Unexpected.
Without saying anything, she walked past him and headed toward the swordsman wing.
Trey followed beside her, quietly looking around.
At paintings.
At students.
At architecture.
At anything that wasn't her, apparently.
Students they passed stared openly.
A dark elf and a human walking together.
It was apparently a rare enough sight to qualify as a minor celestial event.
Kassandra could practically read the question in their eyes:
Did the red moon rise early this year?
She quickened her pace.
Annoyed.
After a moment, she glanced back.
Trey was still walking at the exact same calm speed, entirely unaffected by her increasingly aggressive pace.
That irritated her even more.
"Stufon Trey, can you walk faster? We're not on a sightseeing tour."
Her irritation slipped clearly into her voice.
Trey looked at her, sighed quietly, then nodded and increased his pace.
Still, the farther they walked, the more eyes turned toward them.
Trey eventually glanced down at himself, checking for anything strange about his appearance.
Finding nothing, he turned his attention to Kassandra.
Seeing her growing more tense by the second, he finally asked:
"Why is everyone staring at us?"
He looked around while speaking, which somehow only attracted even more attention.
"Because of you," Kassandra answered irritably. "A human and a dark elf walking together is like water and fire. And because of the way humans usually stare at dark elf women."
Trey raised an eyebrow.
He looked like he wanted to say something.
Then thought better of it.
Shrugged.
And chose to ignore the stares instead.
Kassandra, meanwhile, grew only more uncomfortable.
She silently reminded herself that he was probably overwhelmed.
New academy.
New people.
New surroundings.
It would pass.
Soon enough, he'd start staring at dark elves exactly the way every other human did.
Predictable.
She turned one final corner—
and nearly smiled in relief.
Ahead stood a door marked:
Swordsman Wing
A professor waited beside it.
As Kassandra approached, she noticed his eyebrows rise slightly in surprise.
She pretended not to notice.
Stopping in front of him, she bowed politely.
"Professor, I've delivered Stufon Trey from admissions. I need to return to my classroom now. Please transfer the promised fifty credits."
She kept her tone carefully neutral.
The professor nodded, drew out his staff, and touched it lightly to the medallion hanging around Kassandra's neck.
"Transfer plus fifty credits to Stufon Kassandra."
A faint light emerged from the staff and flowed into the token.
Kassandra checked the medallion and felt the transfer complete.
Good.
She looked once more at Trey and the professor.
"Goodbye, Professor. Farewell, Stufon Trey."
After bowing once more, she turned and walked away.
As she reached the corner, she heard Trey's voice behind her.
A quiet thank-you.
Unexpectedly polite.
Once Stufon Kassandra left, I found myself alone with the professor.
He studied me from head to toe.
Then nodded.
Opening the door, he gestured for me to enter first.
After I stepped inside, he followed and shut the door behind us.
This corridor looked entirely different from the rest of the academy.
Elsewhere, the walls had been white and decorated with paintings.
Here
bare black walls.
No decoration.
No warmth.
Only functionality.
A small number of stufons walked the halls.
Most of the classrooms we passed were empty.
That could only mean one thing.
There were far fewer swordsmen than mages.
Not surprising.
Eventually, we stopped in front of a room labeled: Testing Chamber