Virelya Aevarinne Draventha. Sixteen years old.
Right now, I'm the center of whispers, sideways glances, and not-so-subtle stares—and it's all because of the uniform I'm wearing. I get it. No one just walks into this school.
Velmorith Arcantheon—some call it the "Brain School."
Why? Because everyone inside is… well, brilliant. Beyond genius, actually. Word is, even the term intelligent feels like an insult here.
And me? I've been asking myself the same question since the letter arrived.
Why me? How?
I'm not a prodigy. I'm not a straight-A student. Heck, I nearly failed Algebra last year. Yet somehow, I got in.
No entrance exam. No interview. Just a sleek, silver-pressed letter that said:
"You've been accepted. No testing required."
Even my mom's jaw hit the floor when she read it. Honestly, whose wouldn't?
A girl from a sleepy village, invited to a school where only mental titans are welcome? It sounded like a joke the universe forgot to punchline.
Still, Mom was proud.
Even if I wasn't sure I deserved it.
Now, here I am—standing at the gates of the legendary Velmorith Arcantheon, surrounded by a sea of uniformed students, each of them exuding that quiet, intimidating brilliance.
My heart thudded, not from fear exactly, but from something stranger—like the gates themselves were humming with a presence. Watching. Waiting.
I tilted my head up. Above the iron arch, etched in gold, were the words:
VELMORTH ARCANTHEON
Below that, a banner waved in the breeze:
Welcome, Freshmen.
Excitement. Terror. Curiosity. It all coiled in my chest.
I was about to step forward—
when someone bumped into me from behind.
"Oh my gosh! Sorry!" she gasped, dragging a suitcase behind her just like mine.
"It's okay," I smiled, brushing myself off. "Are you new too?"
She nodded shyly. "Yeah. First day jitters."
"Same here," I admitted.
"I'm Lunavere," she said, holding out a hand.
"Virelya," I replied, shaking it. We smiled at each other, instantly bonded by nerves and shared confusion.
"So, why the rush?" I asked as we started walking side by side.
"I thought I was late!" she pouted.
"It's only six. Classes don't start till eight," I said, showing her my watch.
She checked hers and groaned. "Ugh, my sister set mine ahead again. So typical."
I laughed quietly. "Guess it worked. You're early."
We passed through the gates together, but as we did, we both instinctively stopped. We turned at the same time. The air felt... different. Thicker. Charged.
And then—
Clap.
A sharp sound echoed behind us.
We turned again to see a woman smiling at us, arms folded with a glint of approval in her eyes.
"Impressive," she said. "You felt it."
"Felt what?" I wanted to ask, but my lips stayed shut.
"Only sophomores and above usually sense it," she continued. "But you two? You're the first freshmen who've ever responded."
Lunavere and I exchanged confused glances.
"You'll understand after orientation," the woman added. "Come. I'll take you to your dorm."
As we walked, I couldn't help but study her—confident stride, clipped voice, that invisible aura of authority. Was she a senior student? A faculty member? Something else?
Whatever she was, one thing was clear:
She belonged here.
And me?
I still didn't know if I was a miracle… or a mistake.
The campus stretched around us like a hidden city—elegant towers, stone walkways, ivy-covered halls. From the outside, Velmorith looked impressive. But from inside?
It felt endless.
Finally, we stopped in front of a towering building. Five stories tall, windows gleaming like mirrors.
"This," the woman said, turning to face us, "is your new home."
"This building here is the canteen," the woman said, her heels clicking confidently against the marble floor. "The first floor is for food."
We stepped inside, and wow—it wasn't just big. It was massive. Like a food court from a futuristic city. It could've fit our entire village inside and still had room for dessert.
"The second floor is for freshmen, third for sophomores, fourth for juniors, and the top floor belongs to the seniors," she continued, her tone as crisp as her uniform. "Every year level has its own floor."
Lunavere and I just nodded, speechless.
"Let me see your IDs," she asked, holding out her hand expectantly.
We handed them over without hesitation. She glanced down, and in an instant, her eyes widened in something between shock and disbelief.
"Room A-001… and Class 1-A." She blinked, her tone softening slightly. "That's your dorm room. You'll be sharing it. And you're in the same class."
We exchanged surprised glances, then nodded again.
She led us to our dorm, and as soon as we'd dropped our luggage, we were ushered toward the auditorium for orientation. And when I say auditorium—I don't mean a regular one. This place looked like it could host the entire population of a small country. I wouldn't be surprised if it fit half a million people. Metaphorically, of course.
We found seats near the middle, hearts pounding, and moments later, the lights dimmed.
A man stepped onto the stage. Tall. Sharp features. Presence so strong you could almost hear it.
"Good morning, students."
One sentence—and silence swept the room like a tide.
"I am Kaelrion Vornalyse, Head Master of Velmorith Arcantheon."
Bingo. I knew it. Just one look, and you'd know this guy wasn't just some faculty member. He was the school.
"This isn't an ordinary school," he said. "You've probably heard that before. Let me be clear: the comparison ends there. While we share the same subjects—science, math, English—what lies within those subjects is a different story."
I felt my stomach turn. Something about his voice, his words—it sent a chill down my spine.
"Our science classes focus almost exclusively on chemistry. You will be handling compounds, catalysts, volatile elements—none of the standard biology or physics content will be prioritized here."
Okay. Chemistry. Got it. Panic rising.
"Mathematics?" he continued. "Expect more than algebra. Expect applied equations, calculus, and—above all—engineering-grade problem solving. We train creators here, not calculators."
I internally screamed.
"And English," he said, pacing slowly. "You don't need to be fluent. But you need to understand, this is the language of the world beyond these walls. Transactions, diplomacy, global trade—English will carry you."
He paused.
"And there is only one rule here."
The air in the room shifted. Everyone seemed to stop breathing at once.
"Be on top."
My jaw dropped. Be on top? Are we in a school or the Hunger Games?
Hello? I barely pass my exams! How am I supposed to be on top?
I turned to Lunavere, who looked just as worried.
"Um… Virelya?" she whispered. "What now? I'm not good at academics. Like… at all."
"What?" I blinked. "Wait—you too?"
She gave a tiny, embarrassed nod. "Honestly? I'm usually the lowest in class…"
My brain short-circuited. So it wasn't just me.
Before we could dwell on our mutual academic doom, Head Master Vornalyse continued.
"There are five classes at Velmorith," he announced. "Class D, composed of students who excelled in English, judged by exams and interviews. Class C—Mathematics prodigies. Class B—those with exceptional chemical intuition, even without a practical. Class A—top performers in every subject."
He paused again.
"And then there's Class E. Our newest section, built for those who shine in technology, programming, and computer systems. The future's foundation."
Okay… so we're nowhere near any of those.
"One more thing," he added, voice sterner now. "Leaving campus without permission is strictly forbidden. Everything you need exists within this academy. Tomorrow, you'll be given a full campus tour."
He nodded once.
"That will be all. Dismissed."
I swear I felt my soul exit my body.
"This is bad, Virelya," Lunavere muttered. "I think we need to talk to Head Master Vornalyse…"
I nodded, gulping hard. "Yeah… I think you're right."