SERICA
Illia and I took our seats stageside, at the backs of the other tacticienne and Deneel, facing the crowd of assembled first-year students.
The rest of our class, forty students of each of the remaining eleven écoles, sat on the stage's other side, spread across a quarter of its seating. A good number of upperclass students and faculty dotted the surrounding seats to watch the festivities. Aureli had yet to arrive. As the Arts Exploratoire Département Head, the honor of conducting this event fell to her.
Deneel stood out terribly amid the other sharp-dressed tacticienne, her wild orange side-pony bobbing in the light of the Corpusculaire as her head turned to and fro.
Illia gave a soft sigh, drumming her fingers against her knee, waiting for things to begin, "Late as always."
