The early morning light of the [Kel-R Country] border town was still a soft, golden haze when the first families began to arrive. It was a day of pomp and circumstance, far grander than the humble roads that led here. The air, usually thick with the scent of dust and fields, now carried a nervous energy, a palpable excitement that hummed through the crowd. This wasn't just another day; it was an event.
This was the entrance ceremony for Walton Academy. Not just a school but a gateway to power and influence, a place where a child's future could be decided in a single handshake or a glance. For generations, Walton had been the forge of the country's most powerful mages, the nursery for its next generation of leaders and heroes.
Students, a kaleidoscope of faces from every corner of the kingdom, spilled out of carriages and carts. Some wore fine silks, stiff with unearned confidence, their heads held high as if they already owned the place. They were the children of nobles, their futures already mapped out. Others clutched threadbare satchels, their eyes wide with awe, fear, and a burning desperation. They were the commoners, the ones who had to fight for every inch of ground, whose only chance at a better life was here, inside these walls. Each of them was here to gamble for a future, to bet everything on their own talent and luck.
Nearby, a man puffed out his chest, his voice loud enough to be heard by everyone. "My daughter was given a special recommendation a personal letter from the Grand Duke himself!" he boasted, a wide, self-satisfied grin on his face.
His friends chorused fake congratulations, their envy thinly hidden behind strained smiles and polite nods. They all knew what a special recommendation meant it meant a guaranteed place, a fast track to the top. Parents all around shared the same mixture of pride and fear, watching their children step into a new world, a world where the stakes were higher than they could ever imagine.
Inside the academy's vast campus, the air buzzed with chatter. Students weren't just talking—they were networking, sizing each other up, looking for potential allies and rivals. Names were exchanged, alliances were formed, and hierarchies were already taking root before the first lesson. The children of powerful families naturally gravitated toward each other, forming small, impenetrable circles, while the commoners watched from the sidelines, struggling to find a place for themselves.
"Hey, the ceremony's about to start!" someone called, and a crowd surged toward the main hall, a tidal wave of bodies all moving toward the same destination.
A massive banner stretched across the courtyard, its fabric rippling in the gentle breeze. Welcome to Walton Academy.
From his corner, End watched with cold detachment. He had thought this day had nothing to do with him. His plan was simple: get in, stay invisible, and get out with his diploma. He had no interest in networking, making friends, or forming alliances. He was here for one reason and one reason only to get the education he needed. He was wrong.
"End-ssi," a proctor's voice cut through the noise, making him wince. The man was holding a clipboard, a curious expression on his face. "You are an enrolled student, correct? Your name is on the list of students with special circumstances, but it doesn't say anything else. You are to report to the dormitory immediately." The proctor's words were a direct assault on End's meticulously crafted plan. His dream of invisibility was shattered before it even began.
Later, in his dorm, End muttered, "Damn it. I even got a roommate." He looked around the small, sterile room. It was bare except for two beds, two desks, and a single wardrobe. It was a stark reminder of his new reality, a reality he wanted no part of.
The door creaked open. A cheerful boy with bright, innocent eyes stepped inside, a wide smile on his face. "There are so many students this year! Most don't come to study they come to make connections. Some even dream of becoming one of the Chosen Eight Oracles." His voice was full of youthful enthusiasm, a stark contrast to End's cynicism.
The Oracles. A legend whispered across kingdoms, a bedtime story for children with grand ambitions. They were the most powerful mages of their generation, blessed by the divine, capable of changing history itself. To be chosen was the ultimate prize, a goal so high it seemed impossible.
"What do you think? Anyone here strong enough to become one?" the boy asked, dropping his bags onto the empty bed beside End's. He seemed to expect a deep, philosophical answer, but End said nothing.
"Oh, right! I'm Melin. Nice to mee whoa!" He tripped, his feet getting tangled in his own bags. His water bottle flew from his hand, the cap spinning loose, and a wave of water drenched End.
"Sorry! I'm so sorry!" Melin panicked, his face turning bright red with embarrassment.
End said nothing. He simply stood, soaked, and walked out of the dorm, the cold water trickling down his back. His patience was already at its limit.
On the crowded campus, End's patience was tested again. A rushing student slammed into him, almost knocking him to the ground.
"Hey, watch it!" the boy barked, his voice full of self-importance. He had slick brown hair and arrogant eyes one of the nobles. His uniform was spotless, his posture perfect, a clear sign of his privileged background.
End muttered a quiet apology, keeping his head down, trying to avoid any further conflict.
"What family are you from?" the boy pressed, his voice laced with suspicion. To him, anyone who wasn't from a noble family was a nobody.
"I don't have a family," End answered truthfully, his voice barely a whisper.
The boy sneered. His hand lashed out slap! The sound cracked across the courtyard, a sharp, humiliating sound that made the crowd fall silent. "Next time, keep your head down." He walked away, a satisfied smirk on his face, as if he had just taught a lesson. A girl tugged his sleeve, urging him away. The noble left with a glare, but the damage was done.
End stood frozen, hand on his stinging cheek. Anger surged. His blood boiled, glowing faintly red beneath his skin. The power he had tried so hard to hide, the power that had caused him so much pain, was threatening to erupt.
Not here. Not now. He forced the light to fade, swallowing the fury like poison. He couldn't afford to lose control. He had to stay invisible, he had to graduate, and he had to get out of this place.
I just have to endure. Graduate quietly. That's all.
From the podium, a voice roared, "Let the entrance ceremony begin!" The words were an ironic a reminder that his unwanted journey had just begun. He closed his eyes, exhaled slowly, and stepped back into the crowd, a single, solitary figure swallowed by the sea of students. To everyone else, this was a beginning. To him, it felt like a sentence.