First Day of Class

Aurelius spent his entire first week at the academy learning the layout, memorizing the locations of classrooms, training halls, and other important buildings he would need to navigate.

At last, the nobles arrived, bringing a wave of murmurs and speculation. According to rumors, the Chancellor of the Court's daughter would be attending, along with the children of other influential court members. It was clear that this academy wasn't just a place of learning—it was a battleground for status and influence.

These next four years were bound to be political.

Classes began the next day, and while Aurelius wasn't exactly thrilled at the thought of sitting in a room full of stuck-up nobles, he didn't have much of a choice.

Aurelius moved through the academy grounds, his cane tapping rhythmically against the cobblestone. He was used to the stares by now—whether out of curiosity or disdain, he couldn't tell, nor did he care. His focus was on getting some fresh air before classes started. The noble students had finally arrived, filling the academy with an air of self-importance, but Aurelius had spent the past week learning his way around without them. He had no intention of involving himself in their politics.

Unfortunately, trouble had a way of finding him.

"You there—commoner with the metal plate!"

Aurelius stopped mid-step, tilting his head slightly at the sharp, authoritative voice. The tone alone told him everything. Noble. Likely important. He turned in her direction, silent.

The girl crossed her arms. "That thing on your face—why are you wearing it? It's against the academy's dress code, you know."

Aurelius exhaled through his nose. "It's not a fashion statement."

She stepped closer, and he could hear the fine rustle of expensive fabric. "Then why?"

He reached up, tapping the cool metal. "Covers burns," he said simply. "Alchemy accident. Years ago."

"Hm." There was no immediate response, just a pause filled with quiet assessment. Then, a thoughtful hum. "And your eyes?"

"Gone."

She let out a small, amused scoff. "You don't waste words, do you?"

"I don't see the point," Aurelius replied dryly.

The girl shifted slightly, her presence still lingering in front of him. "You're an odd one. A blind commoner who walks without assistance, wearing a mask that technically breaks school rules." She clicked her tongue. "And yet, no one's stopped you."

Aurelius shrugged. "Maybe they don't care."

"Oh, they care," she said, and he could hear the smirk in her voice. "They just don't know what to do with you yet."

Aurelius tilted his head. "And you?"

She let out a short laugh. "I'm just curious. You're different."

He sighed. "And you are?"

The girl huffed, as if annoyed he didn't already know. "Lady Selene Aldenhurst. Daughter of the Court Chancellor."

Aurelius nodded. "Figured."

Selene clicked her tongue again. "Hmph. You're not very respectful, are you?"

"I acknowledge rank," Aurelius replied evenly. "I just don't care about it."

She let out a soft chuckle. "How refreshing. We'll see if you keep that attitude."

Aurelius didn't respond. He had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time Selene Aldenhurst spoke to him.

Technically, what he did wasn't an issue—there were no laws requiring commoners to show respect to nobility. And while pulling rank at the academy was strictly forbidden, that didn't stop the nobles from doing it anyway.

As he walked away, he could hear the whispers of the other students: "Did you see how he spoke to her?" and "This is why commoners shouldn't be here." Aurelius paused, then turned toward the voices, lifting his mask as if wiping away sweat.

The nobles recoiled at the sight of his face—dark, burned skin with bright green lines that pulsed faintly through the scars, and his ghostly white eyes, which seemed to stare right through them. He quickly fixed his mask back in place, leaving the group in stunned silence.

His appearance, while a painful reminder of his past, had its advantages. People often kept their distance, unwilling to bother the blind man.

After that incident, the rest of the day went by like any other. Finally, it was the first day of class. Aurelius arrived earlier than every other student, finding a quiet spot to wait.

All the A-class students filed into the room, many shooting him strange looks—though Aurelius didn't notice. Soon after, the professor walked in.

The professor entered, his footsteps heavy but steady as he made his way to the front of the room. He was a large man with gray hair that was just beginning to thin at the temples, his lightly tanned skin giving him a weathered, imposing appearance. He cleared his throat and looked over the students with a stern, yet welcoming gaze.

"Good morning, everyone," he began, his voice deep and commanding. "I'm Professor Callum, your swordsmanship instructor. This class is where you'll learn not only how to wield a sword, but how to think like a true swordsman. Our curriculum is simple but effective—you'll only leave this classroom on special occasions, when your skills demand more than what I can provide here. Otherwise, the instructors will come to you."

A few students exchanged glances, clearly curious about what he meant, but Callum pressed on.

"Now, as it's the first day, we're going to do something a little more... exciting than usual." His eyes twinkled as he looked around at the class, clearly enjoying the element of surprise. "No tedious lectures or long discussions. We're going to start with a little practical demonstration of what you're here to learn."

With a broad grin, he added, "I hope you're all ready for it."

Professor Callum led the class out to the training yard, the sun high above and the scent of freshly cut grass in the air. He motioned for everyone to grab a sword from the racks that lined the edges of the yard. The students, both excited and apprehensive, followed his orders without hesitation, adjusting their grips as they readied themselves.

Once everyone had selected their weapon, Callum lined them up in pairs. Each student was positioned across from a designated opponent, the tension palpable in the air as the sound of steel gently scraped against leather.

Aurelius stood quietly at his spot, cane still in hand, patiently awaiting the next instruction. His thoughts remained calm, despite the fact that he could sense the various nervous and confident energies surrounding him. His previous encounters with nobles and their looks had made him somewhat accustomed to the discomfort, but today, it was different.

Before the professor could start, a voice interrupted.

"Instructor, are you sure you want me to fight this guy?" A tall, confident student, with short-cropped blonde hair and an air of arrogance, gestured toward Aurelius. "I ranked top ten among the swordsmen in the entrance exam. Surely you don't mean to make me fight him."

Professor Callum turned to face the student, his expression unreadable. The corner of his lips twitched up slightly as he crossed his arms.

"I was there for the Scholarship examination," Callum said, his voice steady, yet full of a certain amusement. "I put everyone against each other on purpose. This is how it goes. You'll see."

He glanced over at Aurelius, who stood still, his stance even, seemingly unfazed by the challenge.

"Just fight him," the professor instructed, a clear challenge in his tone.

The student bristled but held his ground, reluctantly stepping into position. He could feel the weight of Callum's words, and although he didn't show it, there was a quiet fear beginning to settle in his chest. The professor didn't make requests—he made orders, and they were to be followed without question.

Aurelius, meanwhile, had already begun to focus, his cane tapping lightly on the ground as he centered himself. The vibrations would guide him—he was ready for the fight ahead.

Aurelius dropped his cane to the ground, the thud echoing softly through the air. His feet shifted into a balanced stance, his body poised and ready. He gripped the training sword in his hands—light and agile, built for quick thrusts rather than heavy strikes. With a steady breath, he focused on the vibrations around him, the subtle pulse of energy that would guide his movements.

"I am Aurelius," he said evenly, his voice calm. "And you are?"

His opponent, a tall young man with a sneer, stepped into a wide stance, a confident smirk curling at the corners of his lips. "I have no need to tell my name to people destined to fail out of the academy."

Aurelius tilted his head slightly, the faintest of smiles touching his lips. "I'll let you believe that."

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, the hum of mana flowing through him, and with a quiet hum of concentration, a thin layer of green energy enveloped his body. The shimmering glow barely visible, but it pulsed with a subtle intensity that radiated from him.

"I'll let you have the first strike," Aurelius said, the words deliberate and calm as he squared off with his opponent.

The moment the instructor's command rang out, Aurelius's opponent lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air with speed and precision. The force of the strike was impressive, but Aurelius had been ready. He stepped back just slightly, feeling the vibrations of the sword's path as it closed in. With a swift, calculated movement, he raised his own blade and expertly parried the incoming strike. The clang of metal on metal reverberated through the training yard.

His opponent gritted his teeth and pressed the attack, his movements a flurry of aggressive strikes. Each one aimed for a different target, testing Aurelius's reaction time, but none of them landed. With each slash, Aurelius parried, sidestepping or turning his blade at the perfect angle to deflect the blows. The clattering sound of metal echoed with each successful block, the crowd of students murmuring as the duel continued.

Aurelius's focus was unwavering. He could sense the rhythm of his opponent's strikes through the vibrations in the air, every movement coming a fraction of a second before the sword would strike. His body flowed with a quiet grace, never wasting a motion. His opponent's attacks grew more desperate as the realization dawned that his strikes were futile.

Frustrated, the opponent swung with all his might, an overhead arc meant to break through Aurelius's defense. Aurelius watched the strike come, his body still, waiting. The moment before the sword reached him, Aurelius moved—his body reacting with fluid speed. He sidestepped and, with one lightning-fast movement, thrust his blade forward.

The tip of his sword met his opponent's chest in a precise strike, stopping just short of the target. The opponent froze, eyes wide in disbelief as Aurelius's blade hovered in place, the fight over.

Aurelius stepped back, his stance relaxed but still alert, his sword held loosely in one hand. "Now, I'll ask you one more time," he said, his voice calm. "What is your name?"

The young man blinked several times, still processing the speed and precision of the fight. Finally, with a huff of frustration, he spoke, his tone begrudging. "Kieran. Kieran Draydon."

Aurelius nodded slightly, his expression neutral. "Thank you, Kieran." He gave a small, respectful bow, not out of mockery, but as a quiet acknowledgment of the match.

Kieran's face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and pride, the sting of defeat tempered by the unexpected respect he felt for Aurelius's skill. "I... I'll be watching you," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else, before turning to leave the training yard, his steps heavy but thoughtful.

Aurelius watched him go, his face hidden behind the mask, before turning his attention back to the instructor, ready for whatever came next.