"-gone wrong. New information has been uncovered. Deploying attack squad ahead of time. Apologies. All hail-"
-Decrypted Unknown Message I, by ???
Yul Finiad was the second son of a merchant family who owned quite a few popular shops in Middle Alandriel. However, he was the black sheep of the family, having no skill in trade, all the talent going to his older brother and younger sister. The only hope he had was getting into the Guild, and maybe, only maybe, make his parents proud. It just so happened that he passed the test required to enter the Academy and enrolled himself without reservations, only telling his family a couple days ahead of time before heading off, in fear of them preventing him going. Their reaction? Dismissal. They simply didn't care. Lial was a bit sad about him going, his younger sister always favouring Yul over their harder-to-approach older brother Elfi, but for the most part she was unperturbed, already beginning to drift away from Yul as she heard more and more of her parents' complaints about him.
It didn't matter now though, this was Yul's only chance at life away from the suffocating clutches of his family's outdated ways after all. With his Enhancer Arts, he had half-fantasised at showing enough talent to be apprenticed to Avos Ashbeck himself, though he knew that was never going to happen; even if his skill in his Node was greater than others his age, he was nowhere near the talent of those destined to be Platinum and Gold ranked Guild members. That was exactly why he was reduced to a quivering mess in one of the reception seats after he dared to look into the eyes of a noble. Eyes, deeper than could be possible, conveying a simple, dangerous message: death. And once that noble had approached the receptionist, his called out class was only 1-B! Not even 1-A and to Yul it had felt like he could've killed him with a look!
"You alright?" A soft voice asked from above, forcing Yul to look up from where he was cradling his head in his arms, looking at the kind man checking on him. What he was met with wasn't what looked like a kind man though. Intimidating in all but expression, every part of Yul's being was telling him to run, the lightning-sharp gaze of the man in front of him bearing down upon him with the might of the Gods. An end of a scabbard poking out from the top of the man's shoulder told him everything he needed about him; he was trained, and the scar just barely poking out from his collar told Yul that he had already seen battle. It took everything he had in him to stutter a response.
"I-I sh-should be. Th-thank you kind sir... m-my name's Yul, and y-you?" He had to be respectful or else he knew he would be dead. If Yul had thought the other noble was powerful, then this man was in a different realm entirely, much more akin to that of a lecturer than a porcelain; assuming he was one anyways.
"David. Want me to go to the receptionist with you? Then we can get our classes announced together?" David asked, offering a hand to pull himself up with. Yul gingerly grabbed on, not focusing on the specific details of his offer, and was hoisted up by the man with ease, offering hasty thank yous and praises. Ignoring the looks he got from other porcelains the best he could, he felt confident with a lecturer by his side as he walked up to the desk. The drunk looking receptionist looked up for a moment, his eyes glazing over the two of them, widening slightly at David, before his quivering lips shouted out Yul's class, his target indicated with a nod.
"Cl-Class 3-A!"
Instant relief came at hearing his class, his wish at not ending up in the lower rungs being granted. With this he had an actual chance at greatness, finally able to show his family his worth. Not in gold however, but in blood. Turning to look at his saviour, he was about to thank the kind lecturer who had taken pity on him again before something even more shocking was announced.
"C-Class 1-! No! 3-A!"
Yul was confused at first, wondering who that announcement was directed to until he saw who the receptionist was looking at. The so-called lecturer beside him wasn't a lecturer at all. He was a student, in the same class as him. Someone who looked like that was deemed to be on the same level as Yul himself. Could it be a mistake? It... it has to be wrong, right? Wasn't he about to shout that he was in class 1 something, not 3-A?
"M-Make your... way t-to! Classroom E! Follow the s-s-signs... Go!"
Yul was still frozen in place, confused and terrified, when the supposed fellow porcelain tapped his shoulder and gave him a beaming smile, ignorant to his current plight.
"We should find our class then, right?"
* * *
The trip through the orderly yet somehow chaotic corridors of the Academy felt far too long for comfort for Yul, forced to wander the halls side by side with David until they finally found it. Near the far left side of the eastern section of the building, the classroom for 3-A was found, its medium-sized typical schoolroom layout already filled to the brim with other porcelains; so, when the pair arrived, no one really took notice of them. Most of the class were either commoners or merchant children like Yul himself, so they didn't bother looking for connections among new people, only friends. The few nobles present in the class also didn't care either, being too low in their hierarchy to care about acting 'befitting to their station' or finding their class to be lacking in what they're looking for, and were hence withdrawn from the rest of the class.
Eager to get away from David, hoping that he was going to try and talk to the rest of the class and form a friend group, Yul rushed over to the back corner of the class and took a seat, looking out over the rest of the city through a window. However, the monster had different plans. Completely ignoring the rest of the class, David walked over to Yul and took a seat next to him, grinning at him unashamedly. Yul tried his best to ignore David, looking through the window and inspecting the marks in the old glass to stave off his anxiety and boredom, much to the disappointment of the monster himself, his smile faltering and eventually fading. Still, the monster stayed in his seat and began fidgeting to pass the time, disguising his awkwardness the best he could. The two spent what felt like forever waiting for the teacher to come in those seats, their discomfort only worsening their anticipation.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Just as David mustered enough courage up to try and talk to Yul, the teacher walked through the door, silencing almost everyone, a large binder of notes tucked under their arm. Class 3-A's teacher was a diminutive looking man, being completely average in appearance, with the exception of his dishevelled blond hair running wild. While the rest of the class finally started to sit down, realising that their first lesson at the Academy was finally about to begin, the teacher looked over the class with tired eyes, seemingly losing the will to live when they had inspected everyone. Letting out of a great big and unusually loud sigh, they slammed their notes on the front desk and began their introductions.
"Alright everyone, I'll get this all over and done with quickly, for all our sakes. Sorry to disappoint but this first lesson is something you've all probably heard before and is repeated for every class every year without fail. Expect it to be very boring and try not to fall asleep. You can call me Mr. Jacobs and it's up to you whether you'll hate or tolerate me by the end of the Academy term. Though you may think you can take it easy in my class, believing that all the hard work will be for those class 1s, you would be mistaken. We are on the precipice of the upper echelons of the school and so it's my job to elevate you to those greater heights, so that when the first class evaluation comes around, the majority of you will hopefully be given the offer of going up an expected rank. If you don't think you can make it up to class 2, then at least try and not get demoted, please? Not only does it look bad on me, but it'll hurt your future Guild career even if the administrator cronies says your class at the Academy doesn't matter."
Slightly annoyed at the attitude of the teacher, Yul straightened up in his seat and scrutinised the small man a bit more. Not only was his cavalier speech a bit out of place from what Yul would expect from the Academy, but there was also something lurking underneath his surface impression of him. No matter how hard he tried to focus on Mr. Jacobs' appearance, he could only see it as average, eyes glazing over him. Yet, he clearly looked tired and out of place with regards to his- well, everything. It was as if something was making him not focus on the teacher, something that very well could be an Art.
As soon as Yul recognised the illusion as an Art, the teacher looked over in his direction and gave an almost imperceptible wink, his true appearance no longer obscured. Though Mr. Jacobs was indeed a dishevelled and small man with an average build, his face and exposed skin told a different story. With a defined jawline, deep raspy voice, and piercing green eyes, Yul would be tempted to call his teacher attractive, if it wasn't for a particularly pointed nose and prominent bags under his eyes at least. His hands were the only skin visible on his body, marred in countless scars and burns, the rest covered by either tight silk pants or a billowy black shirt and maroon jacket. Looking around, the merchant boy also noticed the vast majority of his fellow classmates in some sort of stupor, their eyes unfocused and, just like he was before, not really taking in their teacher properly. Only a few other porcelains were somewhat present, including the monster sitting next to him, looking bored out of his mind.
"Well then, I think it's been long enough," Mr. Jacobs smiled as he brought his hands together in an incredibly loud clap, visibly sending shockwaves in the air and outlined with a cool mist. Just as Yul suspected, it was an Art. The instant the clap was heard, the rest of the porcelains woke up, recoiling violently as if they had been slapped. Most of them looked around in confusion before their eyes rested squarely on their teacher, while others found the culprit immediately. However, almost all of their faces morphed into scowls, some even growing visibly enraged at being tricked like that. "Oh, don't look at me like that! It wasn't my fault that you all were too weak to break free of my Art!
"Not to worry all that much though, eventually snapping out of an illusion like that will be as easy as breathing for you! I'll introduce myself properly then for those thinking of getting back at me. The name's Ziron Jacobs, Gold Major. I have the well-known Illusion Arts, though specialised with infiltration and deception rather than illusionary constructions, just like what I did to you all just then. Today we're going to be learning the basics of Arts, alongside how and why I just did that to you all. The first part of the lesson as I said will be boring, but hopefully the latter half will be more interesting. After this lesson, we'll be going on lunch break before reconvening after an hour for some proper beginner soul mechanics, something you most definitely wouldn't have been taught before.
"Now you may all be wondering, 'why is a Gold Major of all people teaching a class 3?'" Mr. Jacobs mocked, putting on a weird voice and looking pointedly at a few of the more temperamental porcelains Yul spotted. "Well, ironically, this class is arguably more important than Class 2-B or even 2-A. This is because of one thing: this class represents the bridge between the Silver and Gold ranks. Even if you're taught in a lower class in the Academy, you are all just as likely to get into the Silver ranks based off of pure practice than anyone else. However, to get into the Gold ranks you need something truly different which you can only get through proper teaching or a lot of money. The difference between a Silver General and Gold Private isn't much, however the difference between a Silver Marshal and Gold Second Lieutenant is night and day. That difference is what I am going to be both unveiling to you and teaching how to overcome it. So, without further ado, I think it's time to get on with things, yes?"
Unwilling to defy the will of a Gold Major of all people, the angry porcelains forced themselves to calm down and settle back down into their seats from where they had risen from slightly. With a pleased nod and grin, the sleepiness in the teacher's expression slowly faded away as he started his lecture; a lecture that Yul didn't think was as boring as Mr. Jacobs claimed to be, at least to him.
As Daniel sat in his class next to his - hopefully - new friend, he couldn't help but regret agreeing to Lucan's assignment already. Though seeing Nynae again was an opportunity too good to pass up, the other half of The Rogue's assignment was something not to be trifled with. Setting up the identity of David Teron, vaguely related to Lanyon Pierce, was hard enough already, but making sure to stay covert under the watchful eyes of The Inquisitor's spies during his investigation would be a monumental task. Still, it was good to be back, though it brought up some less than desirable memories about a certain white-haired boy.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Daniel ignored the teachings of his unusually strong lecturer and refocused on the task at hand, retracing his, Gulliver's and Lucan's plan again. After all, in trying to steal documents listing the locations of the Curse Key fragments out from The Inquisitor's personal office, what could possibly go wrong?