The first week of classes began like a punch to the stomach.
I woke before sunrise on Monday, the room still dark. The other boys were already moving, dressing, lacing their boots. No one spoke to me. No one looked my way.
'I am alone', I thought. 'I am alone and no one cares.'
I dressed slowly. The dark tunic, the boots, the iron sword leaning against the wall. The corridor was empty when I left. The torches crackled. My reflection in the corridor armour was a stranger with purple hair.
---
SFMSI – Endomir
The classroom was large, with high windows letting in the pale morning light. The wooden benches were arranged in a semicircle. The students entered in groups, talking, laughing.
I sat in a corner. Alone.
Endomir entered when the bell rang. He was a thin man with grey hair, deep, tired eyes. He wore simple grey robes. He didn't have the austere air of the other masters – he seemed almost shy.
"Good morning," he said, his voice low. "Today we will talk about SFMSI. The physical, magical and social status of the individual."
A pause. He looked at the class.
"Everyone here has a status paper. Even the non‑chosen. It is a reflection of your soul engraved on magical parchment. Knowing how to interpret it is essential to understand your limits and your potential."
I looked at my empty pocket. The system paper was lost. At the bottom of the sea, with Andy's sword.
Endomir wrote on the slate board: *Strength, Stamina, Agility, Speed, Intellect, Mana, Charm.*
"The chosen have an extra line: the god who chose them. And a special attribute, depending on the divinity."
His eyes met mine. Then Ana's, sitting in the front row, alone. Endomir said nothing. He only nodded, almost imperceptibly.
'He knows who I am. He knows I lost the duel. But he doesn't judge me.'
At the end of class, when the students were getting up to leave, Endomir approached me.
"If you need help…" he said, his voice low. "…I am here."
"Thank you, professor."
He nodded and walked away. He didn't ask about the lost paper. He didn't ask about the duel. He just offered help.
It was more than anyone else had given me.
---
History and Culture – Lara Semorços
Lara entered the room with a radiant smile and a tray of homemade cakes.
"Good morning, my dears! Today we are going to talk about the War of Endomyar. And whoever gets the questions right wins a cake!"
The class cheered up. The cakes smelled of cinnamon and honey.
Lara was beautiful – dark brown hair, green eyes, skin slightly dark from Ban. She wore a light blue tunic, tight, which accentuated her figure. She moved with an energy that contrasted with Endomir's quietness.
The class was about the year 338 a.M. – the expulsion of the Aryster by the six master knights: Erréndias, Graylor, Eladir, Lunos, Remadís, Mercius.
Lara spoke with passion, gesturing, imitating battles. The students laughed, participated, ate cakes.
But I noticed: when she mentioned Ban – the islands, the famine, the rotten harvests – her eyes clouded. The smile faltered.
'She hides worry', I thought. 'Or maybe she's tired.'
After class, Lara offered a cake to Ana. Anorys's chosen ate in silence, without thanking, her gaze fixed on the window. Lara didn't seem offended.
Zirinos was sitting in one of the back rows, with Mira beside him. Lara approached him.
"Don't you want a cake?" she asked, with the same radiant smile.
"I refuse, professor. I don't like sweets."
"You're strange, boy." She didn't insist. Instead, she noticed Mira. "And this little girl? Is she your sister?"
"My ward. Her mother died."
"Oh… I'm sorry." Lara crouched down, to Mira's height. "What's your name?"
"Mira."
"Hello, Mira. Do you want a cake?"
Mira looked at Zirinos. He nodded.
"You can eat."
Mira ate the cake with enthusiasm. Lara touched her hair, then raised her eyes to Zirinos.
"You take good care of her."
"I try."
"Where are you from, Zirinos?"
"Far away."
"What far away? Aryster? Ban?"
"Further."
Lara frowned, but didn't ask more. She just looked at his hair – half gold, half blood – with an expression I couldn't decipher.
"You have beautiful hair," she said.
"Thank you."
"Is it natural?"
"It is."
"You may go." She stood up. "See you tomorrow, Zirinos."
He left with Mira by the hand. Lara stared at the door for a second, then smiled again at the class.
"See you tomorrow, my dears!"
---
Physical Education – Gregorius Grémul
The training yard smelled of wet earth and sweat.
Gregorius Grémul was short, pot‑bellied, bald. His voice was a roar that echoed off the walls.
"Today you will run to the hill and back! The last three repeat!"
The students dashed off. I ran. Or tried to.
Physical fitness was not my strong suit. My chest burned, my legs felt heavy. I crossed the finish line second‑to‑last.
Gregorius pointed at me, at a thin boy with glasses, and at a short‑haired girl.
"You three. Repeat."
We ran again. And again. The boy with glasses vomited. The girl started to cry.
I didn't stop.
When we finished, Gregorius called me aside.
"You're a slave, you're a chosen one, I don't care." His voice was rough, but not insulting. "Here you train like the others. If you can't take it, you go to the lower class."
"I will take it."
He looked at me. His small dark eyes showed no emotion.
"We'll see."
He walked away. He didn't shout anymore. He didn't hit me. He just pushed me.
'He wants us to be strong', I realised. 'By brute force, if necessary.'
---
Geography and Science – Mátir Mezunto
Mátir was a quiet, efficient man. He wore brown tunics, short grey hair.
He showed a map of Endomyar on the slate – the Derylini Peninsula to the southwest, the Graylor Islands to the north, Mercius County to the south, the Ban Islands to the northwest.
"Memorise the trade routes and the location of the portals. There will be a test."
He didn't interact. He didn't ask names. He just taught.
At the end of class, I left without knowing if he knew who I was. Probably not. Probably he didn't care.
---
Lunch
The dining hall was full.
I looked for Sara. She was sitting with Ariny and other students, laughing at something. Her sweet red hair shone.
She glanced at me, hesitated for a second, then turned back to her friends.
'Shame. Fear of associating with the loser.'
Ana was alone, as always. Anorys's mark didn't glow, but the scar on her chest was visible even over her tunic. She didn't look at me.
I ate bread and cheese at an empty table.
Zirinos was at another table, with Mira. The girl ate soup with enthusiasm. He watched the room with calm eyes, as if reading every person, every weakness.
Our eyes met.
He smiled.
I didn't smile back.
---
The 11 Arts of War – Mára Ferão
The room was a covered courtyard, with stone benches and weapons on the walls.
Mára Ferão entered with military steps. She was tall, muscular, with short grey hair. Her eyes were hard, her mouth a thin line.
"Today, a resistance test. You will feel pain. You will want to stop. You will continue."
The students murmured.
Mára raised her hand. Silence.
"The test is simple. Close your eyes. My divine power will touch you. You will feel your greatest fear, your greatest shame, your greatest pain. How long can you endure? That decides if you are worthy of being in this class."
I closed my eyes.
The pain came like a punch.
I saw the port burning. Krakeriar emerging from the water. Ana falling, her chest pierced by ice. My sword getting stuck – my sword, Andy's, Arthur Erréndias's – getting stuck in the ice while I could do nothing.
'Weak. Useless. Loser.'
I clenched my fists. Sweat ran down my forehead. My teeth ground together.
I don't know how long passed. Minutes? Hours?
I opened my eyes. I was on my knees on the ground. The class was looking at me.
Mára stood in the centre of the room, arms crossed. Her expression was contemptuous.
"Five minutes. A disgrace." Her hard eyes fixed on me. "You are a disgrace, slave. Chosen of Macano? You don't deserve the title."
The class laughed.
Zirinos was standing, motionless. Not sweating. Not panting. Just… calm.
"Twenty minutes," Mára said, looking at him. "The best in the class."
Zirinos inclined his head.
"Thank you, professor."
She almost smiled. Almost.
"The Decatrys are the only ones I respect here." Her gaze passed over me. "You are not a Decatry."
At the end of class, I called her aside.
"Professor…"
"What do you want, slave?"
"I want to train. I want to become strong."
She laughed. A dry laugh.
"Strong? You don't know what strength is. You've never gone hungry. You've never seen your family die. You've never fought for anything in your life."
"I was hungry," I replied. "I was a slave."
"A slave to what? Some baron who gave you bed and food?" She stepped closer. "Real slaves die in mines. They die in the fields. You are a toy. The joke chosen one."
"I'll prove you wrong."
"Prove it." Her eyes gleamed. "Or die trying."
She walked away. I stayed in the empty yard.
---
### Magic – Alice Marévil
Alice was the opposite of Mára. Short, plump, blue robes. Her smile was welcoming.
"Today, theory. The difference between mana and divine energy."
The non‑chosen students – Zirinos, Luna, Néris, others – practiced spells at the back of the room. The chosen – me, Ana, others – sat on the benches and listened.
"Mana is the energy of the world. It is everywhere. In plants, in stones, in the air. Anyone can use it… except the chosen."
"Why, professor?" asked a dark‑haired boy.
"Because divine energy and mana are incompatible. Like water and oil. Trying to use both is like trying to be in two places at once. Your body can't handle it."
"So we can't learn magic?"
"You can learn theory. You can learn to defend yourself against magic. You can learn to dodge. But you will never cast a spell."
I looked at Zirinos. He was practicing a fire spell with ease. The flame danced in his palm, blue and white.
'Top of the class. Of course.'
Alice approached me at the end of class.
"I know you can't use magic, Ethan. But you can learn to defend against it. If someone sets a mana trap, you will know how to avoid it."
"How?"
"You have to study. The properties of mana. The forms of spells. The weaknesses of each enchantment. It's not glamorous, but it can save your life."
"Thank you, professor."
"You don't need to thank me." Her smile was genuine. "Everyone deserves to learn."
---
In the room, already dark, I lay on the bed.
The other boys were asleep. Their snores filled the space.
I thought about the teachers. Endomir, who offered me help. Lara, who smiled but sometimes seemed tired. Gregorius, who pushed me fairly. Mátir, who ignored me. Mára, who despised me. Alice, who taught me.
I thought about Zirinos. The smile during the humiliation. The way Mára praised him. The fire spell in his palm.
'He's different', I thought. 'I don't know how, but he is.'
I thought about Ana. Anorys's mark. The way she didn't look at me a single time during class.
The first week was going to be long.
But I wasn't going to give up.