The commotion in front of the gates of the Royal Academy of Magic reached its peak as the noble carriages began to position themselves. Each vehicle, a work of art in its own right, disembarked its illustrious passengers—young nobles destined to shape the future of the Empire.
From the carriage adorned with the crest of House Eldrune emerged a young man of impeccable posture. Arvid Eldrune was the personification of precocious erudition. Dark blue hair, combed back with precision, revealed a high forehead and a piercing gaze. A pair of golden spectacles framed his eyes, giving him the air of a natural-born scholar. His expression was the definition of seriousness, an unshakable countenance that conveyed a sharp mind and superior intellect. He emanated an aura of intense concentration, as if constantly solving complex equations in his head.
Next, from the House Lyra carriage descended a young girl of delicate and fragile appearance. Celestina Lyra possessed an aura of sweetness and shyness that made her look even younger than her age. Short black hair framed an oval face, with bangs that almost hid her eyes. Her movements were soft and hesitant, and her gaze was frequently averted, as if she were uncomfortable with the attention. There was an innocence to her presence, a vulnerability that contrasted sharply with the pomp and circumstance of the occasion.
The House Thorne carriage revealed a young man with light brown, curly hair. Ernest Thorne radiated joy and relaxation. Hair slightly long and loose at neck height framed a smiling face and bright eyes. He possessed a friendly and accessible aura, as if always ready to make a new friend. His posture was relaxed and his gestures animated, conveying a positive and contagious energy.
Finally, from the last carriage emerged a figure that captured the attention of everyone present. Seraphina Vancroft was the very personification of elegance and sophistication. Long black hair rippled down her back, framing a face of fine features and a serene gaze. Strategically positioned bangs covered her right eye, adding a touch of mystery to her countenance. Her posture was impeccable, her movements graceful, and her expression unshakable. She exuded an aura of confidence and distinction that rivaled even Elyandra herself.
Together, Elyandra and the other young nobles formed a group that exuded the aura of the high nobility. Their combined presence was overwhelming, capable of intimidating even the most experienced courtiers. A reverent silence settled among the other aspiring students, who observed the group with a mixture of admiration and apprehension.
Elyandra, for her part, hid her nervousness behind a mask of composure. Inside, her mind seethed with conflicting thoughts and emotions.
"My God... I am surrounded by the highest grade of nobility!" she thought, her eyes scanning each noble with fascination and disbelief. "Arvid Eldrune... Celestina Lyra... Ernest Thorne... Seraphina Vancroft... It's them! The names that echo in the halls of power, the figures who shape the fate of the Empire!"
The proximity to those illustrious figures was almost surreal. Despite her own noble position, she felt like a spectator witnessing an event of historical importance.
"Seraphina Vancroft..." Elyandra's gaze fixed on the young noble, and a comical thought arose in her mind. "She is... impressive. The way she moves, the way she looks... It's as if she were born on a throne."
The comparison was visible. Both were high-class nobles. Seraphina possessed an aura of sophistication and a practically adult confidence that Elyandra could only emulate with the facial mask she had trained for so long.
"I need to pull myself together. I am a Valemortis, after all!" Elyandra straightened her posture, her face assuming an expression of calm and control. She wouldn't allow the presence of the other nobles to intimidate her. She was there to prove her worth, to forge her own path at the Royal Academy of Magic.
The great hall of the Royal Academy of Magic pulsed with a tense, expectant energy. The young nobles, wearing formal attire and serious expressions, occupied rows of polished wooden desks. The soft light entering through high windows illuminated concentrated faces, while the silence was broken only by the scratching of quills on parchment.
Elyandra sat at her designated desk, her gaze sweeping the hall. The pomp and circumstance of the occasion were undeniable, but she couldn't help but notice the subtlety of the hierarchies present. Nobles from more influential houses, like herself, occupied the front seats, while those from smaller or less wealthy houses settled further back.
"The class division here is almost palpable," Elyandra thought, her analytical mind processing every detail. "This academy is not for commoners. The cost to even register for these exams would be enough to ruin anyone without a noble title or a considerable fortune."
Her golden eyes examined the other candidates, recognizing the faces and crests she had seen upon arrival. Arvid Eldrune, with his rigid posture and scholar's glasses, seemed absorbed in deep thought. Celestina Lyra, with her fragile and timid demeanor, squeezed her hands nervously. Ernest Thorne, with his cheerful and relaxed aura, smiled at some acquaintances. And Seraphina Vancroft, with serene elegance, observed the hall with a piercing gaze, evaluating everyone as if they were pieces in a chess game.
An imposing professor, wearing academic robes embroidered with runes, walked to the center of the hall. His deep voice echoed through the room, silencing whispers and movements.
— Welcome to the Official Admission Assessment of the Royal Academy of Magic. The first phase, the General Theoretical Exam, will begin now.
The professor explained the rules and distributed the magical notebooks—enchanted artifacts that recorded the candidates' answers and prevented any form of cheating. Elyandra received hers, feeling the slight tingle of magic in her fingers as she touched it.
Opening the notebook, she was faced with a series of essay and objective questions. The questions covered a wide range of topics: Imperial History, Fundamentals of Magic, Internal Politics, and Religion. Each question was formulated to test not only the candidates' knowledge but also their ability to argue, their logical reasoning, and the clarity of their writing.
As she read the questions, Elyandra realized the exam was more than just an academic test. It was an immersion into the complexity of the Empire of the Divine Light, an exploration of its values, its beliefs, and its contradictions.
The Imperial History questions revealed the rise and fall of dynasties, the wars and alliances that shaped the kingdom, and the role of magic in every crucial event. The questions on the Fundamentals of Magic delved into the principles of mana manipulation, the different schools of magic, and the limits of arcane power.
The Internal Politics questions required an understanding of the intricate relations between the Noble Houses, the power struggles, and the diplomatic maneuvers that maintained the balance (or imbalance) of the Empire. And the questions on Religion explored the influence of the Church of the Divine Light, its dogmas, its rituals, and its impact on society.
Elyandra answered the questions with care and precision, her mind working rapidly to recall the teachings of her tutors and her own observations. She argued with eloquence, reasoned with logic, and wrote with clarity, demonstrating a profound understanding of the world she lived in.
However, one question in particular caught her attention. It was a tricky question about a controversial political event—a "trap" seemingly designed to test the candidates' loyalty and their ability to navigate turbulent waters.
Elyandra smiled slightly, a mischievous glint in her golden eyes. She recognized the snare, but she also saw an opportunity. An opportunity to show her intelligence, her insight, and her ability to play the game of politics with the same skill as any seasoned noble.
With a steady pen, she began to write her answer, words flowing with confidence and determination.
Time passed quickly, and the professor announced the end of the exam. The candidates handed in their magical notebooks, and the hall emptied gradually, leaving behind a silence laden with expectation.
Elyandra rose from her desk, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. She had given her best, and now she only had to wait for the results.
As she walked toward the exit, she exchanged glances with the other nobles. Arvid Eldrune maintained his serious expression, as if still pondering the questions. Celestina Lyra looked relieved but still a bit nervous. Ernest Thorne smiled openly, confident in his performance. And Seraphina Vancroft observed her with an indecipherable gaze, as if trying to decipher her thoughts.
Elyandra returned Seraphina's gaze with a polite smile, but inside, her mind was already preparing for the next phase of the exam. She knew the challenges were just beginning, and that the Royal Academy of Magic was a place where only the smartest, the most skilled, and the most ambitious would survive.
Elyandra left the examination hall with graceful steps, her noble and elegant posture attracting looks of admiration and respect. Years of refined training had shaped her movements, transforming her into a personification of high society.
As she walked through the Academy's corridors, her mind was still absorbed in pondering the answers she had given. She replayed every argument, every detail, searching for any gap or error she might have made.
Suddenly, a strong and agile body collided with hers, interrupting her thoughts. Elyandra stumbled slightly, her composure momentarily shaken.
— Oh! Forgive me, My Lady... — A deep and melodious male voice sounded above her.
Elyandra looked up and met a man approximately 28 years old, whose beauty rivaled that of a prince. Sculpted features, dark brown hair elegantly combed, blue eyes shining with sharp intelligence. Despite his aristocratic appearance, his muscular frame revealed undeniable physical strength. It was the very professor who had presented the exams, now with an expression of genuine concern on his face.
— I am the one who should apologize, Professor... — Elyandra regained her composure quickly, straightening her posture and offering a polite smile. — I was somewhat distracted.
— The pleasure is mine, My Lady... — The professor gave a brief bow, his voice laden with courtesy. — I am Professor Armand Velacroix.
— Elyandra. Elyandra Valemortis — she replied, introducing herself with all the formality and elegance of a high-class noble.
Her clear and melodious voice echoed through the corridor, attracting the attention of everyone present. Other nobles and candidates stopped to observe her, gazes full of curiosity and a touch of envy. Elyandra's presence, combined with her illustrious lineage, emanated an aura of power and distinction few could match.
Professor Armand recognized the Valemortis name with a glint of interest in his eyes.
— Valemortis... An honor to meet the heir of House Valemortis. Your beauty is as undeniable as your education, Lady Elyandra.
He took a step forward and, with a surprising gesture, reached out to fix a rogue lock of hair that had escaped Elyandra's hairstyle. His fingers brushed gently against her cheek—a touch that lasted only an instant but seemed to stretch for an eternity.
In Elyandra's mind, an alarm went off, accompanied by a wave of discomfort.
"This is weird... very weird." she thought, her golden eyes narrowing slightly. "I would never have thought this way when I was a man. Fixing a girl's hair, especially a nine-year-old child? It's... disturbing."
The scene hit her with a comical force. She imagined the reaction of her former self, the 32-year-old man, at the prospect of touching a child's hair. The thought was absurd, almost surreal.
"Maybe it's just the culture of this world," she reflected, trying to find a rational explanation. "Maybe gestures like this are considered normal here. But still... it's creepy."
She suppressed a shiver, keeping her expression calm and composed. She wouldn't allow the professor's behavior to destabilize her. She was Elyandra Valemortis, a high-class noble, and she would handle the situation with the same elegance and control she had always shown.
Elyandra offered Professor Armand a polite smile.
— It was a pleasure to meet you, Professor.
— Likewise, Lady Valemortis — he replied, a gallant smile on his lips as he moved away, carefully holding the bundle of exams.
Elyandra watched Professor Armand Velacroix walk away for a moment, her mind still processing the brief encounter.
"Perhaps..." she thought, slightly furrowing her brow. "Thirty-two years without any significant female interaction in my past life... maybe that makes me over-analyze simple gestures. Maybe to Professor Armand, it was just an act of courtesy."
She shook her head slightly, deciding not to dwell on the matter. There were more important things to worry about, such as the next phase of the exam and adapting to life at the Academy.
With firm steps, Elyandra followed what appeared to be a large dining hall. The hum of voices and the aroma of noble food grew stronger as she approached. Crossing the doors, she found an expansive and richly decorated hall where various young nobles were gathered, enjoying meals prepared by the Academy itself. The variety of robes and crests filled the room with a kaleidoscope of colors and symbols of power.
Elyandra entered the dining hall with impeccable posture, her golden eyes sweeping the environment with discreet curiosity. She headed to the counter, where several Academy staff, dressed in elegant uniforms, prepared a variety of dishes exhaling tempting aromas.
Even having grown up in the opulence of House Valemortis, Elyandra couldn't help but be surprised by the extravagance of the cuisine presented there. There were roasted meats with rare herbs, exotic fruits arranged in elaborate displays, breads of different types and textures, and sweets that looked like edible jewels. The nobility of the food and the impeccable presentation surpassed even the sumptuous banquets of her own house.
With graceful and calculated movements, Elyandra took a fine porcelain plate and carefully selected a few items that pleased her, always maintaining her composure and avoiding any sign of greed. Then, she headed to an empty table and sat down with her characteristic elegance.
Leaning slightly back in her chair, she kept her spine straight and her shoulders relaxed. She picked up the silver cutlery with dexterity and began cutting her food into small, uniform pieces, bringing each portion to her mouth with delicacy and chewing slowly. Her table etiquette was impeccable, a reflection of years of rigorous instruction.
Despite her apparent tranquility and the noble mask she kept intact, inside Elyandra was in a state of near panic. Feeling the gazes of everyone present fixed on her was overwhelming. Every movement of hers seemed to be analyzed, every forkful observed.
"My God... It's like I'm on a stage," she thought, her impassive face contrasting with the whirlwind of emotions inside. "Breathe, Elyandra, breathe. Act like it's the most natural thing in the world. Nine years of training for this exact moment. Don't freak out. Don't freak out."
She stayed focused on her meal, pretending to ignore the attention she drew, while secretly longing for the moment she could withdraw to a more private place.
The atmosphere of relative tranquility Elyandra tried to maintain at her table was soon dissipated. As if drawn by an invisible magnetic field, the other high-class nobles who had arrived with her began to approach.
Arvid Eldrune, with his formal posture and analytical gaze, was the first to approach. He stopped beside Elyandra's table, a slight nod in her direction.
— Lady Valemortis. May I join you?
Before Elyandra could respond, Celestina Lyra approached timidly, her eyes—even covered—showing hesitation.
— Excuse me... Lady Valemortis... May I sit as well?
Next, Ernest Thorne, with his contagious smile, approached the table.
— Lady Valemortis! Good to find you. May we join you?
Finally, Seraphina Vancroft, with innate elegance, completed the group.
— Lady Valemortis. It would be a pleasure to share your table.
In a matter of seconds, Elyandra's table, which she had chosen in the hope of a moment of peace and discretion, had been transformed into the epicenter of high-noble attention in the hall. The environment around her, once a silent refuge, now pulsed with the presence of those influential youths.
On the outside, Elyandra maintained her impeccable noble mask, offering polite smiles and nods to each person who joined her table. She exchanged formal greetings and started mild conversations about the exam and their first impressions of the Academy.
However, inside, the situation was quite different. The constant attention and the need to maintain an impeccable posture before those who were her equals (and in some cases, perhaps even her superiors in influence) kept her in a state of constant alert.
"Great," Elyandra thought, a touch of irony in her thoughts. "My little oasis of peace lasted exactly... how long? Now this table has an invisible sign saying 'Elite Meeting Point.' This is going to be... interesting."
She knew that being surrounded by those nobles could be an opportunity to form alliances and obtain valuable information. But it also represented constant scrutiny, where every word and every gesture would be analyzed and interpreted. Her tranquility had evaporated, replaced by an acute need for caution and strategy. Her reserved table had ironically become a makeshift stage for the game of nobility.
The atmosphere around Elyandra's table was charged with silent tension, broken only by the soft clinking of cutlery against porcelain. Elyandra savored her meal with unshakable composure, observing the group around her with peripheral vision, evaluating every movement and expression.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by the soft touch of a hand on hers. The unexpected contact made Elyandra freeze, her muscles tensing for a fraction of a second. Her noble smile remained plastered on her face while her eyes stayed fixed on her plate, without her turning to identify the source of the touch.
— Lady Valemortis... — Celestina's hesitant and sweet voice broke the silence. — If it is not rude to ask... why did you choose to enter the Royal Academy of Magic instead of following the paths of the Church?
The question hit Elyandra like a well-aimed arrow. She remembered the expectation hanging over her, her reputation as a possible Saint, a chosen one of the Divine Light. She noticed the curious gazes of the others at the table, with the exception of Seraphina, whose countenance remained impassive, oblivious to the conversation.
— The Royal Academy possesses... admirable customs — Elyandra replied, her voice maintaining a calm and controlled tone. — And there is much I still wish to study and understand.
Celestina furrowed her brow slightly, a confused expression. Being from House Lyra, the Voice of the Goddess, her paths had always been intrinsically linked to faith.
— I... don't quite understand — Celestina murmured. — Since I was born in House Lyra, I was always taught the ways of the Divine Light. I never imagined following another direction... different from the path of the Saint.
Elyandra brought a hand to her chin, pretending to ponder the other young woman's words.
— Ah... well, I believe I possess a considerable knowledge of the ways of the Divine Light. But... I confess the aspects of magic in this world awaken a great curiosity in me.
Celestina observed her with an intrigued gaze, her shyness momentarily overcome by surprise.
— It is the first time I have met someone... so different from me, even knowing that... perhaps we share the same fate.
Those words made Elyandra raise an eyebrow, her attention now fully focused on Celestina.
— We share the same fate? What exactly do you mean by that, Lady Lyra?
Slowly, Celestina turned her face toward Elyandra. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her eyes still carried a trace of shyness. But when Elyandra locked eyes with her, a shock ran through her body. Celestina Lyra's eyes were the same golden hue as her own. Celestina Lyra was also a Saint.