Ceremony

I entered the campus for the first time, my heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension. The exterior of Aetherfall Academy was unlike anything I had ever seen—a vast garden sprawling in every direction, with a towering fountain at its center, spraying crystal-clear water into the air. Sunlight refracted through the droplets, creating a mesmerizing spectrum of colors. The pathways, paved with smooth stone, wove through patches of exotic flora, some of which emitted a faint glow.

As I walked along, my gaze fell upon statues carved from pristine marble, their craftsmanship so exquisite they could have belonged in the finest museums back on Earth. Each statue depicted a figure of historical or mythical significance, their expressions lifelike, as if frozen in time. Students around me whispered in awe, taking in the sheer grandeur of the campus.

The air buzzed with the lively chatter of incoming students, accompanied by the occasional trill of birds flitting across the crowd. Just as I was beginning to absorb my surroundings, a powerful voice boomed across the courtyard, reverberating as if amplified by unseen speakers.

"Welcome to Aetherfall Academy! Congratulations on being admitted to this prestigious institution that fosters the greatest talents," the voice announced.

In an instant, a figure materialized out of thin air at the fountain's edge—a female Feykin, an ethereal blend between an elf and an elemental. Her presence was commanding yet graceful, her radiant sapphire eyes surveying the crowd with warmth and authority. Her silver hair flowed as if caught in an invisible breeze, and her translucent wings shimmered like water under the moonlight.

"Oh, students of the Aether, please proceed to the function hall for your opening ceremony and orientation," she announced, raising her arms toward the sky. "I am Lenara Yvain, your Student Head Caretaker." A warm smile graced her lips before she vanished just as abruptly as she had appeared.

Gasps of astonishment rippled through the crowd.

"Whoa, she's amazing!" one student exclaimed, eyes wide with wonder.

"A Feykin!" another shouted excitedly. "I've never seen one up close before!"

The air filled with murmurs of awe and admiration. Some students exchanged theories about her lineage, while others speculated on her magical capabilities. Meanwhile, I quietly made my way toward the function hall, dodging the more excitable students as I went. One of the academy's uniformed guards noticed me and gestured in the right direction, his expression impassive.

The function hall was beyond massive—easily the size of half a football stadium. Grand chandeliers hung from a domed ceiling adorned with celestial patterns, their glow casting a gentle light over the sea of students pouring in. Rows upon rows of cushioned seats stretched across the hall, each arranged to accommodate thousands. The sheer scale of it all left me momentarily stunned.

A guard approached me, a clipboard and pen in hand.

"This is your class evaluation assignment," he said, handing me a form. "Fill it out with your details: name, age, sex, race, and level."

I took the pen and hesitated for a moment before writing:

Name: Ezekiel Rhea

Age: 17

Sex: Male

Race: Human

Level: 28

I frowned slightly. The benchmark level for most students was 30, and I had just fallen short. Would this affect my placement? The guard's indifferent gaze suggested that it wasn't a major concern.

"What's your specialty?" he asked, pulling out another form.

"Specialty?" I echoed, tilting my head.

"Your expertise—magic, combat, arts, or any proficiency based on your Unique Ability or skills," he clarified. "We don't ask about your UA directly; it's against our protocol. Your class will be assigned based on the value you provide."

I considered my answer carefully. My Mimic Eye allowed me to analyze and decipher data with precision, but revealing its replication ability or my connection to Karna was out of the question.

"I can analyze and decipher data effectively, and I have some experience in close combat," I replied with a casual chuckle, trying not to sound too eager.

The guard exhaled through his nose and jotted down my response. Handing me a card, he said, "Here's your identification card."

I glanced at the card, and my stomach dropped.

Class: E

Class E? That was way too low. I had hoped my analytical skills would place me in at least Class C.

"May I ask why I was assigned to Class E?" I inquired, trying to keep my voice even.

"Your ability doesn't stand out much here," he replied bluntly. "We already have more efficient methods for analysis and data interpretation."

So that was it. My skill, which seemed extraordinary elsewhere, was nothing special here.

A commotion on the other side of the hall drew my attention.

"How am I only in Class C?! My fire magic is far superior to these gimmicks!" a student bellowed, his fists clenched in rage.

"Understand that your element is common here, and others have proven talents that surpass your fire magic," the guard responded calmly.

"Huh?!" The student's anger boiled over. "Are you saying I'm weaker than them?!" He began chanting, flames crackling in his palms as he prepared to hurl a fireball.

Before he could act, a commanding female voice cut through the tension.

"Learn to humble yourself before your superiors," she said, her tone filled with quiet authority.

A beam of light struck the fire-wielding student, sending him sprawling to the ground, paralyzed. The hall fell silent.

The speaker stepped forward. She was breathtaking—her golden-brown hair shimmered under the hall's glow, and her piercing, luminous eyes exuded wisdom and strength. Her aura was both angelic and intimidating.

"Inka Ventiar, level 36," she mused, reading his identification card. "Yet your behavior resembles that of a common delinquent." Her sharp gaze swept over the silent crowd. "Let this be a lesson to all of you."

Before anyone could react further, another presence made itself known. A figure appeared on the stage, his sheer authority commanding immediate silence.

"First, I congratulate you all on being admitted to Aetherfall Academy," he began, his deep voice carrying across the hall. "I am Sylas Regalia, the headmaster of this academy." He slammed his hands on the podium for emphasis.

"For 300 years, Aetherfall Academy has produced exceptional talents. We look forward to seeing you grow into symbols of power for the Gods and Goddesses of this world," he declared. "May the Gods and Goddesses bless you on your journey of greatness."

Thunderous applause erupted. I, however, remained silent, taking mental notes of the notable figures around me.

Later, I settled into my dorm, a modest yet comfortable space near the academy walls. As I unpacked, a small box caught my attention. It contained a magical lens with a note:

"This is for the concealment of your Mimic Eye. Always wear this and only remove it when absolutely necessary."

I slipped it on. A notification flashed in my vision:

[Eyes of Deceit Equipped]

[Your actual stats will be hidden by fake stats in accordance with your need.]

Among my belongings, a ring made from Erythrotenebrae's material stood out. I slid it onto my finger, curiosity piqued.

[Ring of the Great Guardians]

[The overseer of spirits shall protect you from death.]

I smiled. Mr. Ishtar had equipped me well for my journey.

As night fell, exhaustion should have settled in—but instead, a restless energy kept me awake. Lying in my dorm room, staring at the ceiling, I felt an inexplicable pull to step outside. The silence was heavy, pressing against me like an unseen weight, urging me to leave.

Unable to resist, I slipped out of the dormitory, letting the crisp night air wash over me. The academy's garden stretched out before me, bathed in soft moonlight. Neatly arranged flower beds lined the pathways, their petals glowing faintly under the night sky. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the faint scent of earth and blossoms.

I wandered aimlessly, allowing my thoughts to quiet as I reached the grand fountain at the garden's center. The water cascaded down in smooth, crystalline arcs, its steady rhythm blending with the distant hum of the night. I took a seat on the bench facing it, exhaling slowly.

Just as I was beginning to relax, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the stillness.

I turned my head and saw a figure standing near the pathway—a young woman with long, brownish-blonde hair, illuminated faintly by the glow of a nearby lantern. Her sharp luminous eyes locked onto mine, and the neutral expression she wore told me she wasn't here for a casual conversation.

She crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly. "You're out late."

I met her gaze, unfazed. "So are you."

She didn't react to the remark, instead stepping closer with a firm yet calm demeanor. "Name and identification."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is this an interrogation?"

"Just standard patrol protocol," she replied, extending a hand. "Students wandering outside the dorms at this hour need to be accounted for."

I sighed, reaching into my coat pocket and pulling out my academy-issued identification card. She took it, scanning it briefly before returning it to me.

"Ezekiel Rhea," she read aloud, then glanced back up at me. "Your reason for being outside?"

I leaned back slightly. "Couldn't sleep. Thought a walk might help."

Luna studied me for a moment, then gave a slight nod. "I see."

She didn't seem particularly suspicious—just someone following her duties. There was a certain air of discipline about her, as if patrolling at night was something she did often.

"What about you?" I asked. "You patrol the grounds alone at this hour?"

Luna pocketed a small notebook she had been holding. "I volunteered for night patrol."

"Must be dull," I remarked.

She glanced at the fountain before replying, "It has its moments."

The way she said it made me curious, but she didn't elaborate. Instead, she took a step back, as if concluding our brief exchange.

"You should return to your dorm soon," she said. "Curfew might not be strict, but wandering alone at night isn't advisable."

I smirked slightly. "That sounded like a warning."

"It's just a suggestion," she replied evenly, then turned on her heel.

I watched as she disappeared into the dimly lit paths, her presence fading into the night just as suddenly as she had appeared.

Glancing once more at the shimmering fountain, something told me this wouldn't be the last time I ran into Luna during one of her patrols.

As Luna's figure faded into the dimly lit pathways, I remained seated, watching the rippling fountain. The silence that followed felt heavier than before, almost as if the night itself had swallowed her presence.

I exhaled through my nose, running a hand through my hair. Cold and distant. That was the first impression Luna left on me. Her tone was firm, her words precise—like she had no interest in wasting breath on unnecessary conversation. Even her posture, straight-backed and disciplined, suggested she was someone who took her duties seriously.

There was no warmth in her voice, no curiosity beyond what was required for her patrol. Just a set of sharp amber eyes, scanning for trouble, assessing whether I was worth any more of her time.

She's the type that follows rules down to the last letter. No room for small talk, no unnecessary friendliness—just protocol and obligation.

People like her. The ones who carried responsibility like armor, who let duty shape their every interaction. They rarely cared for pleasantries, and they certainly didn't make an effort to be liked.

Still… something felt off.

It wasn't that she was outright hostile—if anything, she was merely doing her job. But there was something about the way she spoke, the way she scanned the surroundings even as she talked to me, as if she was always on edge.

Distrustful? Or just used to being cautious?

Either way, I got the feeling that Luna wasn't someone easily swayed by charm or conversation. If I was going to cross paths with her again, I'd have to be prepared for more of that same sharp, unreadable demeanor.

At least, that was what I thought.

Over the next few days, I found myself running into Luna more often than I expected. Whether it was during routine checks in the halls or brief encounters near the training grounds, she was always around, always keeping a watchful eye.

Yet, as I observed her, something about my initial impression started to shift.

She wasn't just strict—she was attentive. She noticed things others didn't. A student's unusual movement, a minor detail in a conversation, even a shift in atmosphere before anything happened. It wasn't just discipline; it was instinct.

Then, there were the moments she let her guard down—small, fleeting, but noticeable.

Like when she sighed in exhaustion after a long patrol, thinking no one was watching. Or when she subtly adjusted a first-year's uniform without a word, making sure they looked presentable before an important event.

Or the way her gaze softened—just a little—when she caught students laughing together, even if she didn't join in herself.

She wasn't cold.

She was just carrying more than most.

And maybe, just maybe, she wasn't as distant as I first thought.