The World Tree, Yggdrasil, once called all representations of beings to assemble. It was known as the first Great Mythical Assembly, led by a human apostle named Romeuf.
Previous assemblies had been rare occurrences, with many creatures passing away before a new one could take place. However, there was to be another assembly the next day, and the one summoning all beings this time was none other than the Original Saint, Saint Morgan.
"I heard it's for a court of justice," one dwarf said to another.
"This time it's going to be held at our elven kingdom's palace," an elf mentioned to another elf.
"Oh dear... so it's my turn to attend this time...?" a unicorn pondered aloud.
"Why can't I attend in your stead, father? You're ill!" a centaur asked his father.
"Hmmm... an assembly..." a dragon mumbled in his sleep.
"Finally. Another assembly!" a beastwoman exclaimed to her people.
"Grrr..." a werewolf growled, narrowing his eyes at the letter that arrived.
"Ouch, my... my old bones... I wonder how everyone is," Vlad smiled.
"That human boy..." a merfolk muttered as he gazed at the surface of the ocean.
***
Today~ the trio of unlikely companions - Burn, Yvain, and Morgan - squeezed into the confines of the carriage bound for the esteemed Saint Lucia Academy in the heart of Inkia Capital City.
As the wheels clattered smoothly over cobblestones, the occupants of the carriage found themselves in a situation as comfortable as a cat in a balloon factory. The static was unbearable, but it was because of excitement.
Yvain chattered away with the enthusiasm of a hyperactive squirrel. Meanwhile, Morgan, with a perpetual air of sinful beauty surrounding her, sat serenely as if she was privy to some grand cosmic legend that the world was too dense to comprehend.
And Burn… he was there, listening, watching, getting used to his surroundings.
As they neared the Saint Lucia Academy, the imposing spires of the prestigious institution loomed into view, casting a shadow over the cute motley crew within the carriage.
And so, with a final jolt, the carriage came to a stop, and Burn, Yvain, and Morgan disembarked.
“You are supposed to offer a speech as the number one best new student who passed the entrance exam, right? Have you prepared it well, Evan?” Morgan asked.
“Something like this is easy, Mama,” Yvain chuckled. Well, he had done countless speeches, orations, and declarations as a king since he was still very young, after all. He almost had nothing to worry about.
Morgan smiled, “Isn’t this the first time you speak in front of your fellow age group? They’re not your people, and not your subordinates. They all will be your fri—”
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“—slaves. All of them will be your tools for success. Manipulate them well, Evan,” Burn said.
“Yes, Papa, Mama,” Yvain laughed.
As they entered the academy premises, a sea of parents and children engulfed them, churning like a chaotic human blender set to mix.
The parents, overtly proud but subtly competitive, flaunted expensive valuables and designer outfits as if trying to outshine each other based on their offspring's academic achievements.
The children, on the other hand, sported a mix of excitement and dread, caught between the thrill of new beginnings.
The entrance ceremony unfolded like a theatrical performance by amateur actors who had rehearsed only once and hoped for the best.
As they were herded into groups of children and parents, they were all unceremoniously shoved into a grand hall simultaneously. Out of 337 test participants, a mere 68 children made the cut and were sorted into four classes.
Oh, the hierarchy of it all! There were the A, B, and C classes, where the students were ruthlessly divided based on their perceived potential.
And then, of course, we had the esteemed S Class reserved for the chosen few - those budding prodigies who had managed to awaken their Vision or Force, essentially the cream of the crop in potential.
How delightful, to witness the systematic sorting of futures as if they were cattle at market, all in the name of education and proficiency. It truly warmed the heart to see such care and consideration given to the delicate task of pigeonholing bright young minds.
In this grand spectacle of academic segregation, one couldn't help but marvel at the precision with which these children were labeled and categorized, like products on a supermarket shelf.
Because clearly, nothing screamed nurturing educational environment quite like being slotted into a predetermined slot based on a single test.
But fear not, dear participants, for this was surely the most effective way to unlock your true potential and mold you into the scholars of tomorrow. (Scoff…)
So, they sat tight and savored the sweet taste of being reduced to mere statistics in the grand experiment of education. Oh, the joys of standardized sorting!
As the esteemed Headmaster of the Saint Lucia Academy, Princess Bianca Lumine graced the stage with a regal air that exuded wisdom and warmth, her piercing gaze swept over the assembled students and parents.
Oh, well, at least there was one silent acknowledgment of each individual's potential.
"Ladies and gentlemen, young scholars of Saint Lucia Academy, welcome to our humble abode of knowledge and enlightenment," Princess Bianca began, her voice carrying a blend of authority and compassion.
"Today marks the beginning of your journey towards greatness, a path paved with challenges and triumphs."
With a playful twinkle in her eye, she added, "Remember, in the grand tapestry of academia, each of you is a unique thread that weaves into the fabric of our illustrious institution. Embrace your differences, for it is diversity that breeds innovation and excellence."
Her words were like a gentle caress, guiding her audience towards a brighter future.
"Together, let us embark on this adventure of learning, where curiosity reigns supreme and the pursuit of knowledge knows no bounds. May you all shine as brightly as the stars above, for in this academy, the sky is not the limit - it is only the beginning."
CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!
As Princess Bianca Lumine concluded her speech, a wave of awe and inspiration washed over the children and parents gathered in the hall.
The children's eyes sparkled with excitement, their faces alight with newfound determination. Parents exchanged proud smiles, their hearts swelling with hope for their children's future.
But there were also some parents, nodding vigorously, pretending to hang on her every word while mentally drafting their grocery lists. Some children squirmed in their seats, daydreaming about the delicious buffet promised after the ordeal was over.
Like Yvain…
The air was thick with the scent of ambition and freshly printed certificates, mingling to create a heady cocktail of success.
When Yvain finally stepped up to the podium, his royal demeanor clashed with the mundane backdrop of the academy auditorium.
They didn’t know why, but everyone fell silent.