Entrance Ceremony at The Garden

I found myself standing before an imposing, ornate gate. The sun cast warm rays across its weathered surface, highlighting the intricate designs etched into the wood. Each detail tells a story, from the graceful curls to the sharp spikes adorning the top of the structure. The faint creaking of the hinges filled the air, which buzzed with the secrets awaiting just beyond the gate.

"First time here? Are you a freshman, too? I'm Jack Bits," an energetic guy in a loosely fitted uniform called out as he approached from behind me.

"Nice to meet you, Jack. I'm North Visarti. Do you know where we need to go for the inauguration ceremony?"

"Oh, so you're the famous new genius in town! Well, lucky for you, I can help. Just follow me. The inauguration speech for the year's start is in the Garden Hall. Fun fact: it's named that because of its massive vertical garden. The walls are alive with plants, and the ceiling is adorned with sprawling, interconnected vines.

As we walk, let me point out what we're passing through now—the Point Hall. To your right is the north wing, housing the Sun Building, and to your left is the south wing, with the Star Building. Ahead lies the impressive Garden Hall; behind it, you'll find five lecture halls, and even further back are the arena and the infirmary."

Jack was bubbling with enthusiasm about the campus as if he were preaching its virtues. His excitement reminded me a bit of that red-haired character from one of my favourite fantasy novels. No doubt, the building before us was awe-inspiring—a towering structure with twenty stories draped in greenery and equipped with mechanical elevators on every side.

In front of the Garden Hall, a large crowd had gathered around a small wooden table, where two older students were handing out wooden placards to those who spoke with them. Once they received their placards, the students would make their way through the Garden Hall's large, closed wooden gate.

It didn't feel like a proper queue; people milled about tightly, shouting to catch the attention of the older kids at the table. Occasionally, a narrow path would open up, allowing someone to slip through, grab their placard, and continue.

As we got closer to the crowd, a large figure appeared, standing above the group of young people. His voice was loud, "I am Durum Kut, now let me pass!" The crowd quickly moved aside for him, like in old stories about heroes who earn respect. Taking advantage of this, I held Jack's hand and ran after Durum. It felt like he noticed me; he looked back and met my eyes. For a brief moment, I thought he might frown or shout at us, but instead, he just nodded. This small gesture gave me relief. With his approval, the kids who were about to shout at us became quiet, letting us pass without any trouble.

As we approached the rustic wooden table, Durum paused, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the surface. He reached out and gently placed his large hand on a shimmering crystal nestled beside several colorful placards. The moment his fingers made contact, the crystal burst to life, glowing with an enchanting brilliance that illuminated the dim surroundings. Simultaneously, a slender pen, sleek and elegant, began to maneuver itself with purpose, gracefully etching words onto one of the two pristine sheets of paper set before the older children, capturing their eager attention in an extraordinary display of magic.

One of the older kids checked the name and, after glancing at a massive open book in front of them, nodded and said, "Durum Kut, Earth, level 7 talent. Here is your placard: place 3. You can go." 

Durum took the wooden tablet with the number 3 on it and walked toward the door. After he left, Jack placed his hand on the crystal.

"Jack Bits, Wind, level 6 talent. Here is your placard: place 11," the older kid announced. After receiving his placard, Jack stood aside, waiting for me. 

I then placed my hand on the crystal. The older kid checked multiple times, looking at me as if he had seen a ghost. He handed me my placard, his hand trembling. 

"North Visarti, Water and Wind, level 8 talent. Here is your placard, sir: place 1. I wish you farewell," he said.

Confused, I turned to Jack and asked, "What was that all about?"

He shrugged and replied, "Well, you're not only first place in talent, but your surname also carries a bit of weight, you know?"

I realized that my grandpa might be a bit intimidating if this was the reaction I got every time someone learned my name. All I could do was hope it wouldn't lead to bigger problems. With that thought, I walked through the wooden gate.

When I walked in, I noticed the lively atmosphere right away. The large space had an elegant yet industrial look, mixing brass fixtures and iron structures with bright decorations of colorful potted plants in every corner. The ceiling had a mural of celestial designs that added a fun touch. Gaslight fixtures provided a soft glow, lighting up the eager audience below.

Shiny glass chandeliers with curved brass arms hung from above, casting a warm light on the deep burgundy velvet seats. Rows of students in neat uniforms filled the theater, their excited faces standing out against the lush greenery of the plants, adding to the sense of anticipation.

I focused on the stage, where a simple but striking setup awaited the headmaster's speech. The proscenium arch looked like a grand clock, its hands frozen in time, waiting for the moment when the headmaster would begin. The soft rustling of students and the gentle tapping of shoes on the polished floor created a buzzing energy in the air.

The walls displayed educational posters celebrating various achievements, showing how important The Garden is. The faint scent of fresh soil and blooming flowers made people feel calm.

The audience chatted quietly, with students exchanging whispers and glances. They dressed well for the occasion, but each added their unique touch with accessories that reflected their personalities.

I walked around, searching for my spot until I noticed a small row of five sofa chairs in the center of the theater. I approached them, nodded at Durum and the other kids sitting there, and took a seat in the center chair.

After almost 20 minutes of waiting, the lights in the theater suddenly went out, and three beams focused on the stage. From the center of this illumination emerged a small flame that steadily grew larger until it reached the size of an adult male. From within the flame, an old man walked out slowly. He wore a pair of small glasses perched on his nose, had a clean-shaven face, and most of his hair was white with hints of red at the sides. Instead of pupils, his eyes contained a small, fiery flame. He was dressed in a long trench coat that was red and black, adorned with various silvery cogs as buttons. In his hand, he held a small red wooden cane topped with the head of a wolf, its mouth open as if ready to howl.

"Welcome, welcome to all the new students at The Garden! I am Archmage Truss, the founder and headmaster of this beautiful academy, as well as one of the most charming and entertaining authors of the past two centuries. For all of you here today, I have only one word…""BURN", Now I will let my less charismatic and less lovable vice-headmistress Archmage Biastra explain how The Garden works. Now, farewell."

After Archame Truss spoke, he walked back into the flames from which he had come and vanished. In his place, a figure made entirely of dirt materialized, gradually taking on a human shape. After a few seconds, the figure began to crack, and a young woman emerged. She had long brown curly hair with blonde ends, a slightly tanned complexion, and pitch-black eyes. She was wearing a long trench coat that was a mix of brown, black, and bronze colors. The coat was open, revealing black pants and a light brown jacket with a large cog drawn in the center.

"After the encouraging words of our headmaster, I would like to outline the rules of The Garden. 

1. Magic cannot be used in open spaces or without authorization. Violation of this rule will result in expulsion.

2. You may challenge others only through a duel initiative. Dueling will begin two months after the school year starts.

3. You can bet only what belongs to you during a duel.

4. You are not allowed to pressure others into accepting a duel using your family connections. If caught, you will be expelled.

Tomorrow, there will be a class selection. Each of you has already been assigned to a class based on your awakening. The classifications are as follows:

- Class 5: Numbers 500 to 200

- Class 4: Numbers 199 to 100

- Class 3: Numbers 99 to 50

- Class 2: Numbers 49 to 20

- Class 1: Numbers 19 to 6

- Class 0: Numbers 5 to 1

Your class number corresponds to the number on today's placard. The benefits of each class will be explained during tomorrow's homeroom lecture. In essence, the lower your class number, the more resources and better teachers will be assigned to you. Access to some special training grounds, known as the Five Halls, will also be restricted based on your class.

There are two ways for you to advance to a lower class: 

1. Achieve the maximum score on the theory quizzes held every four months.

2. Challenge someone from a lower class to a duel. 

However, remember that if you lose a duel, you will be expelled. If you win, you will take their place, and they will take yours.

Now, I believe everything is clear. You will need to attend this institution for the next six years, so I hope you study well and do not break the rules."

After she finished her speech, she looked sternly at everyone, glancing from the far right to the far left of the theater until she was sure everyone understood. Then, she disintegrated into small grains of sand. After some time, all the lights in the theater returned to normal.

Wow, that was intense! From what I understood, I have two months to prepare before people can start to challenge me. I need to begin accumulating ether as soon as possible; otherwise, I risk losing my privileged position.