Class Visit

Professor Ayla, with her stature emanating authority, steps forward, addressing the entire room. Her presence always demanded attention, and there was a hush that settled when she spoke.

"Today you will be meeting with some fellow students. They will be offering their support, they will be visiting for a week so take this opportunity to chat and learn from them."

I raise an eyebrow, trying to mask my surprise. They're not supposed to be here for a whole week. The norm was a day, maybe two at the most. Ayla having to oversee more students? That must be her personal version of hell.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Biana, head lolling to one side, snoring softly, a drool line running down her pillow. Classic Biana. Behind her, Lysandra is shooting daggers at the sleeping form, nostrils flaring with irritation. God, when will they bury the hatchet?

Before I can muse any further, the door opens to admit several figures. Their collective energy is immediately noticeable, even more so than our own batch. It's a palpable sort of energy; there's confidence, but there's also... arrogance. 

Professor Ayla's voice brings my attention back. "These are second-year students, in other words, they are your seniors. They are from class A-2." She levels them with her typically stern gaze, then motions for them to introduce themselves.

The first to step forward is, unsurprisingly, Lyria. Of course, it's the lavender beauty, I muse. The sight of her is just as I've always pictured in the recesses of my mind—long, flowing lavender hair with the occasional white flower weaved within. Her lilac eyes possess an intensity that is both unsettling and alluring.

"Hello, juniors. I'm Lyria Valance," she greets, her voice as soft as a lullaby yet commanding enough to demand attention. "It's a pleasure to meet you all." There's a gentle smile playing on her lips, making her seem both approachable and distant. Too bad I have no interest in talking to any of them; I'm not interested in this kingdom's politics after all. 

Following Lyria, "Rion" Wren steps forward, exuding a stark contrast to her poised elegance. With his chiseled features and that eye-catching streak of silver hair, he looks every bit the popular jock I've heard stories about. "Hey there," he greets with a wink, his golden eyes twinkling with mischief. "They call me Rion. And trust me, this week is going to be fun."

Before I can react, a bubbly voice interjects, "Rion, stop hogging the spotlight!" Vivienne, or "Vivi," practically bounces forward. The sunlight filtering in through the windows catches her hair just right, making her turquoise bob shimmer. Her eyes, sparkling and green, seem to be laughing already, like she's in on a joke the world has yet to hear. "Hellooo, lovely people! I'm Vivi! I hope we'll have an amazing time together!"

As Vivi retreats, Castor "Cas" Whitman confidently strides forward. The platinum blonde hair and the way his cobalt eyes, hidden partially behind those wire-rimmed glasses, survey the room, tells me everything. Tsk, the elusive maverick. "Cas Whitman. It's a pleasure," he remarks, his voice carrying an undertone of amusement, already predicting the reactions he'll receive throughout the week.

Lastly, the mysterious Calista Everglen steps up. I can't help but be momentarily entranced by her heterochromatic eyes, the blue and green depths so starkly different, yet they complete her. She doesn't say much, just a simple, "Calista," accompanied by a nod. The brevity somehow makes her introduction the most memorable. Hmmm, if I'm correct they either already awakened their attribute or are in the process of doing so. Since only half the class came I won't have to worry about engaging in any conversation, I'm sure they will be busy talking to each other. 

Professor Ayla, clearly impatient, chimes in, "Now that we've gotten the pleasantries out of the way, let's move on."

From the corner, Biana mumbles a sleepy "Whassgoingon?" while Lysandra rolls her eyes, no doubt dreading the drama that is bound to unfold.

Professor Ayla's gaze sweeps over the class with the intensity of a general addressing her troops. "Now, for the next week you can train with them, talk to them, learn with or from them, or even play with them," she states with unwavering seriousness.

Biana, in her usual display of inattentiveness, gets a rude awakening from Professor Ayla's pointing stick smacking the top of her head. She jolts upright, her eyes wide, momentarily disoriented. "Ah fuck! What the hell!" she exclaims, rubbing the assaulted spot.

Professor Ayla's gaze doesn't waver; her expression doesn't even twitch. Clearly, for her, disciplining Biana is just another day at the office.

Unfazed, Biana, in a bold (very very foolish) move, tries to retaliate. With a well-practiced swing, she aims her pillow at the professor. But Ayla smacks Biana's head again, this time harder, sending the monster of a girl sprawling to the floor.

"Dammit, it hurts like hell!" Biana groans from her place on the ground, clearly regretting her choices. She's like a cat that bit off more than it could chew. Too bad it's hilarious. Tsk tsk tsk, come on Biana you're better than that. 

Professor Ayla continues, as if there was no interruption, "You are obligated to talk to your seniors at least once. You are not obligated to be around them, learn from them, spar with them, or be around them. However, that goes both ways. If they don't want to be around you or help you in any way, that's that. Don't ask me or give me any complaint."

A snicker escapes my lips as I spot Biana still sprawled out, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. To my right, Lysandra's face is split in a wide, sadistic grin, clearly enjoying Biana's misery a tad too much. Hahaha, that's what you get. I think, suppressing my chuckle. Seriously, Biana, you needed that.

I let out a yawn, boredom edging its way into my senses as Professor Ayla shuffles to her desk, finally letting everyone breathe. Settling down, I think, Here it comes. I'm all too familiar with the patterns of social dynamics in such situations.

"Alright everyone," Lyria, the lavender beauty, starts, with a hint of challenge in her voice. "Let's head to the training grounds. I'm quite curious to see the potential in this room. Don't disappoint us."

Typical Lyria, I think, rubbing my eyes. Using polite words to issue a challenge, masking her competitive nature under the guise of encouragement. I wonder how many would recognize it for what it was?

My eyes drift to Aira, and sure enough, her gaze is fixed on Lyria. A silent, shared smile between them betrays more than they probably realize. Their dynamic, their hidden hierarchy, it's all too evident if one knows where to look.

Liam, on the other hand, makes a show of observing everyone but is so blatantly obvious in his intention to only speak to Cas. It's almost comical how hard he's trying to appear nonchalant.

I stifle a smirk, turning my attention to Isabella. She's doing a commendable job hiding the turbulent emotions beneath the surface. "Oh, Isabella," I muse silently. "Just how long until that fiery spirit of yours erupts?"

Rai, Arin, Kaida, and Flora are a mixed bag of excitement, apprehension, and intrigue. They're untainted by the politics of the room, their naiveté almost refreshing. Well... it's not that they're naive, it's simply that they don't care. Oliver... Hmmm, I actually don't know what he knows regarding politics at this point in time. 

Isadora is, well, Isadora. She has this uncanny ability to forget... let me rephrase that; she doesn't care enough to remember faces and names, which, in this particular situation, might be a blessing. Who wants to remember the twisted web of relationships in this room anyway?

Everyone begins to rise, eager to follow the seniors or simply to escape the charged atmosphere of the room. I push myself to my feet, and with an exaggerated sigh, sling Biana's form over my shoulder. Lazy ass. She could at least pretend to walk. 

★  ★

The sun is blazing overhead as we walk into the academy training ground. The familiar scents of dust and sweat fill the air, conjuring up memories of days spent grinding and honing our skills. Vivi walks in front of me, taking a deep breath as she enters the vast expanse.

"Wow, this place really takes me back," Vivi says, her eyes scanning the training ground. Her voice is tinged with a mix of excitement and nostalgia, her turquoise bob bouncing as she turns her head from one side to the other. "Makes me think of all the times I've been pummeled into the dirt."

Rion, trailing behind her with a cocky grin, can't resist the opportunity. "You mean the times I pummeled you into the dirt, right?" he teases, his golden eyes glinting with mischief.

Vivi shoots him a glare, though there's no real heat behind it. "I remember it differently, pretty boy," she retorts.

Lyria, ever the one to take control, steps forward gracefully. "Enough with the banter," she says, silencing the room with her authoritative tone. "We're here to assist and evaluate, not reminisce. As Professor Ayla already decided, we'll be splitting you into smaller groups. There are five of us and twelve of you, so we'll be handling you in groups of two or three." Her lilac eyes scan the room, making sure everyone's attention is on her. "Professor Ayla has already pre-selected the groups."

She then begins listing the groups, her voice never wavering. With every name she calls, the tension in the room rises incrementally, until...

"Biana, Lysandra, and... V," Lyria says, pausing briefly before announcing the last name. As expected, I asked her to make sure Lysandra is always in my group, and I promised to help her with Biana but... this... it won't be peaceful. I catch a flash of amusement in Lyria's eyes. Did she enjoy assigning this? She should know who Biana is so she's probably curious about the worst student in the Academy. 

Vivi, grinning like she's just won a jackpot, takes a step towards us. "Well, this is going to be... interesting," she says, her eyes sparkling with barely concealed delight. "I've always wanted to deal with a real challenge."

"You're going to regret that enthusiasm soon enough," I mutter under my breath, but Vivi simply winks at me.

The way Vivi struts forward, there's a damn sparkle in her every step. Ugh, it's like watching a candy commercial – all sweet, shiny, and dripping with fake enthusiasm.

As we near a quieter corner of the training ground, the realization dawns upon me. This... setting is perfect for a little drama, isn't it? A sly smile creeps onto my face as I glance over at Isabella. Her cool gaze is fixed on Vivi with an intensity that's almost palpable. Oh, sweet, sweet Isabella. Let's make this fun~ Hehehe, this is going to be fun~ 

"Wait... I know you! I thought I recognized you. You're one of Duchess Aurora's daughters, right?" I lay it on thick, giving her my best awed expression.

Vivi's laughter rings out, bright and chipper. "Hahaha, that's right. She's my mom." The grin on her face widens, almost as if she's in on a private joke. And, judging by the glint in her eyes, she probably is.

This is my golden opportunity, I can almost feel the atmosphere crackling with tension. "For the daughter of the duchess, you're pretty amazing~ You're not sly, rude, or disrespectful."

The barb is so subtly disguised, it's like wrapping a brick in velvet. From the corner of my eye, I see Isabella's hands clench into fists. Oh, the restraint she's showing is admirable. But it's way more fun to think about when she'll explode.

Vivi chooses to ignore it. "Okay okay, enough with the compliments~ Let me test you all~." 

"Alright, I'm not that strong, but I'll do my best." I shrug, feigning humility.