Prologue

In the early days of the month of Droughtrule around the year of of 1300 AR, or perhaps a bit later, in the southern corners of the Kingdom of Alvaria dominated by chalk-white cliffs and light brown beaches, in the seaside town near the Main’s End cape known as Penance, lies the highly reputable and prestigious Rosewood Penance Academy of the Arcane. A school several hundred years old and considered to be among the most exclusive, it caters almost entirely to only the cream of the crop nobles and mercantile families with a lot of coin to their name.

The start of Droughtrule signifies the end of the cold winter season and the start of a new year at Rosewood. Students - both new and returning - are flooding into the premises, all clad in their expensive uniforms that had to have been tailor-made by one of the exclusively-licensed expert tailors in either Penance or the capital Hearthbury. Although the area never dies down due to its temperate climate and idyllic coast, the season was just right for many deciduous trees and flowers to begin sprouting, thus giving the statement that "life has returned to the town" a somewhat different meaning.

Although the school was nominally within Penance urban limits, it was located a bit higher atop a hill colloquially known as Academy Hill, some twenty minutes away by horse. On the hill stands the academy’s vast complex that clearly wasn’t built with a budget in mind. Although some new arrivals have been living at the premises’ dorms for weeks, they would be seeing each other in full numbers for the first time. Gathered together in the lavish hall with a tall ceiling adorned with frescoes showing various scenes of local religious importance were all the new students. Some marvelled at the opulence of the Academy, others merrily chatted with each other, many were looking for new friends or simply meeting with old acquaintances. Few remained steady in their seats with red upholstery.

Among the relaxed ones was Augustin Vigil, the firstborn son and heir apparent heir to the reputable Duchy of Luminium, a noble house with a lot of merit and tradition to its name. Sitting at the far right edge of the left aisle, he simply sat still, not bothering himself with anything, apparently. Next to him was his lifelong friend Vincent Mead, another man born into nobility - although rather than being from a ducal family, he was born to a family of viscounts. His father was an advocate for several prominent nobles, including the esteemed Duke of Luminium.

“Aw, why the long face? Come on, it’s the first day. You don’t want everyone to think you’re a bore from the get-go, aye?” Vincent asked him as he nudged his shoulder with his elbow and sniggered.

Augustin sighed. “I’m simply not interested, is all. I’m already acquainted with most of the people here from past events and banquets. Meanwhile, most of them are strangers to each other here, so of course they have a lot to talk about with each other.”

“You’re acting like you know everything about them already, you know?” Vincent told him sarcastically.

“I know more than enough. I’ve seen their parents and it was enough for me to know that they were all instructed to curry my favour either way.”

“Wow, curb your ego there a bit, Little Prince,” Vincent reprimanded him, but didn’t deny his statement. “It is a pretty tricky situation, I’ll agree. But, hey, you never know. I’m sure a few of the people amongst them will want to be your friend with pure intentions. Besides, there’s no way to know if I’ll be around for you forever.”

Augustin furrowed his brow at that statement. “Relax, Vincent, I’m not planning to just isolate myself from everyone here. I just don’t want to come off as biassed towards anyone on the first day,” he responded calmly. As he said those words, the sound of music could be heard from the front of the chamber. Both of them faced forward and spotted a women’s choir of second and third years. In front was one of the professors, who began conducting after an initial vigorous applause from some of the spectators.

“Look, the show’s about to start,” Vincent whispered to Augustin as he put his index finger on his lip. Augustin only looked at him with a disappointing gaze.

The choir sang their first piece, celebrating something about the changing of seasons. It was a relaxed and relatively high tune with slow music accompanying it on a lute and a drum played by another pair of female students.

After the song stopped, an applause rang throughout the hall. Then came the usual shtick of a stock speech from the headmaster that just somewhat differentiates from past years’ in structure but nevertheless shows a bit of creativity. In all likelihood, he simply sat down in the park and began writing whatever came to his mind. A simple, yet efficient process.

It was followed by another song from the choir, this one a bit slower and with polyphony. The process then repeated itself a few times, including a speech from the Students’ Assembly President and some poetry recitals from some older students.

Then came the final phase of the annual inaugural celebration. The newly-arrived first year students would be sorted by their classes. Their homeroom teachers lined up onstage and began calling them in alphabetical order, starting from class A.

After the headmaster professor would call their name, they’d stand up, walk on–stage and shake both the professor’s and the headmaster’s hands. Slowly, he made his way down the alphabet.

“Vincent Mead!”

“Ah, that’s my que. Wish me luck,” he said before standing up. “Yeah, yeah, break a leg up there.”

Augustin was more bitter about the entire affair than he thought. Class A was made up of the thirty people that got the highest score on the entry examination. And every student that walked up onstage after their name was called was already in some way or another acquainted with him.

It’s truly hopeless, isn’t it, he thought to himself as they already reached the letter ‘R’. He was expecting that there'd be at least one or two people he hadn’t seen or heard of before, but that was steadily becoming less and less likely. He was hoping for a wildcard to appear among the class A members – perhaps a less prominent noble, a wealthy merchant’s child or perhaps even an incredibly talented individual attending on scholarship and a patron’s aid, but none of those seemed to have made it to the top with entrance exams.

“Nanami Underland!”

“Hm?” Augustin recoiled from surprise. “Haven’t heard of an Underland before. That’s quite a surname.” His spirits rose just a bit, since he heard a name that he hadn’t heard before and he looked up. In a flash, his curiosity grew. Questions such as ‘What’re they like?’ or ‘How did they get here?’ rang through his head.

Out of the crowd, a girl with short white hair with streaks of ink black walked up on stage confidently. But it wasn’t the same smug confidence that Vincent displayed. Rather, she seemed relaxed enough to not be daunted by the crowd of students with their eyes peeled onto her for the entire trek from their seat to their future classmates up onstage that makes the Long March look like a short walk to the local 7/11.

“Augustin Vigil!”

“That’s my sign,” he thought to himself as he did the same journey all the classmates before him did, from the chair up onstage. He could hear a few murmurs coming from both the people still seated and those already waiting on the platform. His good friend Vincent, meanwhile, was simply sporting a wide grin as he watched him climb the stairs at the side. Augustin first shook the headmasters’ and then his homeroom teachers’ – Ms. Professor Woodbead – before lining up next to Nanami, her shoulder almost touching his upper arm.

Augustin peeked a bit down to the right. “She’s rather short, huh?”

Augustin himself was by no means short – but by no means tall, either. Nevertheless, her head only reached up to his shoulders. Perhaps around Vincent, she’d be at his chin. Or, if she wore heels, to his eye level, even.

(Looking at it from a modern perspective, Augustin is 180 and Nanami around 155. For comparison, Vincent is no more than 175 and the average male height in Alvaria is somewhere around 176 or 177.)

Behind them was only one more classmate – someone whose surnames started with a W. Augustin was too focused on what was in front of him rather than focusing on the topic at hand.

Looking at her sideways, to Augustin, she seemed quite a bit different from everyone else in his class. Her eyes were rather small and stern, her nose bridge was rather high and her complexion somewhat paler than the rest’s, despite them coming out of a rather dark winter season. And even though all of them were wearing the standardised uniform, it seemed to suit her just a little differently than everyone else.

He had heard before that small and sharp eyes were a trademark amongst some of the people living next to the Azure Sea far to the south, hence being sometimes referred to as Squinters in Alvaria. However, Squinters aren’t human – they’re all members of a divergent race of demons that have coexisted with humans in the area for centuries. They say that their eyes are sharp like that because of the blinding snow that falls in the hills where they live. But rather than being short, they’re all prominently tall, with robust builds.

On the other hand, some of the humans in the eastern corners of the Azure Sea are known to be short, but they seldom leave their country and sport strange and hard-to-pronounce names and surnames. Moreover, they have traditionally dyed their hands with distinctive markings – a trait that was hereditary with their dragon-like ancestors.

“What is this?”, Augustin mused to himself with a hint of panic. “Why am I spending so much time thinking about some random woman’s origins? It’s such a waste of time! There’s really no reason to get worked up on the inside over such a trifling matter.”

Eventually, his internal storm of unusual thoughts was broken up by Ms. Professor Woodbead’s signalling to everyone to start walking to their classroom. The line - so carefully built over the minutes that seemed far longer than they were to everyone involved – crumbled in an instant, as friends flocked to each other and expressed their surge of feelings they experienced as they entered their new school life. Vincent likewise also regrouped with Augustin, who was – despite his inner protests – still somewhat deep in thought.

The exit from the stage was at its edge, through which they left the hall building and entered the park in the centre of the complex.

(Hello, writer’s note here. Just a note that I promise to supply a floor plan of the complex eventually. In case I forget, and it isn’t located at the end of the first chapter by the end of the next week, please just hit me up in DMs and I’ll sort it out. Thanks!)

Their homeroom classroom was located on the main building’s first floor, next to the western staircase. The entrance was at its back, with two aisles of four seats per row at each side, for a total of four rows. Yes, there was a surplus of seats, but it’s unlikely anyone would be complaining about that. All tables span the entire aisle, with a special slot for one’s inkwell to prevent accidental spills.

Augustin and Vincent sat down in the left aisle’s 3rd row, occupying the rightmost and the adjacent seat, with Augustin taking the one at the edge. As soon as they sat down, Vincent concernedly asked Augustin: “Hey, bud, what’s wrong? Ever since the inaugural celebration you’ve looked completely absentminded. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s good. Thank you for the concern,” he shrugged it off. “While we’re at it, what was with that disturbing smile you had on-stage?”

“Haha, just what are you talking about?” Vincent laughed it off. “I’m just happy to be here. And I’m sure you’ll be as well.” He then stretched his shoulders and looked around. “You see all the people here? They’re your classmates, whether you like it or not. Trust me, most of them are genuinely good people. I’m sure you’ll find some true friends here…but don’t go ahead leaving me behind, alright?”

Augustin looked around. Surrounding him was a vast array of his peers, all different from each other. True, there was bound to be some bad apples between them, but maybe - just maybe - he’d find someone else he could call a friend.

His gaze stopped at around two o'clock, where the person of highest interest sat - indeed, it was that one Underland girl with a weird name. She was sitting at the left edge of the right aisle’s second row and was already talking with her fellow classmates.

“I might as well ask Vincent about her. If there’s anyone who knows anything, it’s going to be him,” Augustin thought to himself.

Vincent - despite being born into a rather lower-ranking noble family - knew quite a few people that would normally make it past the Vigil family’s radar. In other words, notable lower ranking nobles, middle-class merchants, talented commoners, prominent local religious figures and so forth.

“Hey, Vincent. Do you know anything about that Underland lass in our class? That girl in the second row, I mean,” he asked him nonchalantly

“Hm? Oh, you mean Nanami? Nope, no idea, never heard of her before. Think she’s attending on scholarship? Why’re you asking?”

“No particular season. I simply haven’t heard of her surname before, so I thought I’d ask you. You know, in case you knew anything,” Augustin responded and looked away from her.

“Yeah, got no clue there, sorry mate. Might as well ask her yourself, aye?” he responded unconcernedly and laid his head back relaxedly. A few seconds later, something seemed to have clicked to him. “Hold up, no way! Has my little wallflower prince finally found a lid to his pot?! Hold on, I have to burn this memory in my mind.”

“You buffoon, shut your mouth!” Augustin yelled at him. “I’m just asking. Stop trying to find

“Ah, that’s a new response. But…if you say so?” he smiled smugly at him. “Remind me to ask you how it turned out in a year.”

"You needn't worry about that happening."

How that statement will age, only time will tell.

Afterword: You have my sincerest thanks for reading the prologue. I know the contest rules said that the suggested word count per chapter is 1000-1500 words, but I couldn't help myself here. After this, I'll try publishing chapters of appropriate length once per two days, with all the info about it being found on my Twitter page: @YaoYaoLtd. If you have any questions or complaints, just ask me there and I'll answer them to the best of my capabilities.