March of Burgeoning Life

"The Ministry of Railways wishes to thank all passengers for their patronage. This train is bound for Bareahard via Celdic."

The gentle chime of the train announcement sounded in the ears of its occupants, nudging one particular passenger awake.

"The next stop is Trista…Trista."

The svelte girl blinked the sleep out of her eyes, stifling a yawn. She shook her head slightly to clear the fog of slumber, her indigo ponytail swishing side to side.

"We will be stopped at Trista for one minute. When disembarking, please ensure no belongings are left behind."

Pale lilac eyes blinked open, flicking to the view outside the train window.

'Almost there', the young woman thought, sitting up straight and smoothing out her green plaid skirt, before folding her hands in her lap. 'Good thing I'm not a deep sleeper. One minute really isn't a lot of leeway. I might have ended up missing my stop.'

She glanced up at her belongings again to confirm they were still there, before turning her gaze back out the window, eyes widening as she took in the sight of trees in full bloom, a slight smile lighting up her gentle features with a hint of the enthusiasm of youth.

"Spring is certainly here. And in such a pretty way too!'

Hands still folded in her lap, she ran a thumb over the cuff of her red school jacket. 'Though it's probably still cool enough that this is still warranted. On that note…'

Her eyes flicked discreetly around the train car, passing over the well dressed adults and lingering on the other youths in the uniform of Thors Military Academy, almost all dressed in green. 'No one else has a red uniform, that I can see at least. I wonder what that means? Does that mean I'm in a new class? I thought Class I and II wore white and Class III, IV and V wore green?'

She most certainly did not shrug her shoulders, instead keeping her ladylike posture as she pondered her predicament again. 'This red seems to match the colors of the Imperial Family…,' she mused, before shaking her head. 'No use thinking about it for now. Surely the instructors will explain.'

That settled for the moment, she looked out the window again, watching as the train slowed, pulling into the station, the bright light of the morning dimming, still filtering into the building through various skylights, but otherwise blocked.

"Now arriving at Trista…Trista."

The young woman stood from her seat, reaching up and standing on her toes to retrieve her luggage, before promptly exiting the train, stepping onto the platform along with a small crowd of students.

Among the many green and handful of white uniforms, her red jacket stood out, as did the one worn by a serious looking young woman and an almost distractingly handsome young man with lavender hair, of all things. 'Oh good, it isn't some uniform error. Or I'm not alone there, at least.'

A few other students gave her curious looks as they all milled generally in the direction of the exit. She smiled politely at the ones who stared a bit too long. Some of her observers smiled back, while others hastily looked away.

'I can't possibly be intimidating, can I?' she wondered, before stepping a bit more hastily towards the exit.

As she stepped outside, she paused, her breath hitching as she blinked in the sudden sunlight, taking in a closer view of the blooming trees. 'The lino flowers are as pretty as they say! Oh, and the town looks nice too.'

It resembled her hometown of Ymir in atmosphere, despite its proximity to the capital of Heimdallr, but in the more classic Erebonian style as opposed to the eastern influence evident in Ymir.

'As beautiful as some of the buildings in the Sankt district were, they can't compare to nature's beau–!' "Oof!"

She was almost sent sprawling as someone crashed into her from behind, but she managed to keep her footing, albeit with some very much unladylike flailing. Definitely not a great start to her tenure here.

"Oh my, terribly sorry about that!" a cheerful voice called from behind her, and she turned to see a young man with messy blonde hair giving her an apologetic look. Notably, he also was wearing a red jacket.

"There's no need to apologize," she demurred. "It was my error for blocking the doorway."

"Well! Beauty and grace!" the young man smiled at her, bowing slightly in an informal way. "I can't believe I was distracted from the unique flower by the fading perennial ones!"

"Ah…that's very flattering. Thank you…?" She curtsied as properly as she could while holding a suitcase, trying her best to ignore the slight flush heating up her face.

"Oh! My bad!" the young man exclaimed, dipping into a more formal bow. "I'm Elisha Reinford, may I ask the name of the young lady I've accidentally accosted?"

The young lady in question brought one hand to her mouth to cover her laugh. "Hehe, I am Irene Schwarzer." Her brow furrowed in thought. Elisha looked a bit familiar… "Have we met before?"

"Ah! Young lady Schwarzer!" Elisha cheered, before cocking his head in thought. "I wouldn't have forgotten such a pretty face…perhaps you know me from my name?"

Irene felt her face warm up at the compliment, part of her flustered, even as the rest of her told her Elisha wasn't really trying to flirt. "You flatter me, mister Reinford. Perhaps you are correct. We haven't been formally introduced, at the very least."

"Well, consider that travesty rectified then!" the young man cheered.

"If our matching uniform colors mean what I think it does, we may be in the same class," Irene suggested. "So I suppose it makes things slightly easier now that we have already met."

"Yeah…I was wondering about that," Elisha mused, tapping his chin in thought. "You don't happen to know anything about the red jackets, do you? I almost thought my mother was trying to mess with me for a while."

"Unfortunately, no," Irene replied, shaking her head. "I was not informed of anything like this. In fact, I was a bit worried that there was a uniform error until I saw other people with the same color jacket."

"Hmm…not sure I'd rule that out quite yet," Elisha cautioned. "As wealthy as my family is–not that I mean to brag–we are not nobles, unlike your family, and as far as I know, Thors still segregates classes by…well, class."

"That was my impression as well," Irene concurred, looking down at her jacket. "Although…this almost looks like Arnor red. Not quite…"

"Are you suggesting we have some imperial favor or something?!" Elisha burst out, eyes wide.

"I don't know," Irene replied. "The Schwarzer family has been close to the imperial family for a long time, and your family is very influential, but…" she shook her head. "Speculating just on that is a bit risky."

"Yeah…" Elisha agreed, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "The Reinford name's got quite a lot of weight to it, but imperial attention?" He glanced down at his jacket. "Now I'm feeling a little self conscious about this."

"Oh! It was just a guess, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable!" Irene dipped her head apologetically.

"Nah, it's fine," Elisha waved her off. "Just weirds me out how far just my last name can take me sometimes."

"For someone who's technically a commoner, you probably have a decent idea of what it's like for nobility," Irene remarked.

"Maybe," Elisha shrugged, shifting his luggage to his other shoulder. He shot her a skeptical glance. "I'm a bit surprised you would say that aloud though, most nobles would be offended by that comparison."

"Well…" Irene demurred, brushing some loose hair back over her ear, "my family likes to live more humbly than most nobles." 'Not to mention my own unusual circumstances.'

"Hmm…" Elisha grunted thoughtfully, staring off into space. Irene shifted her feet uncertainly for a moment, before regaining control of herself.

"We should probably get going," she suggested, checking her watch. "The opening ceremony isn't too long from now."

"Huh?! Oh right." Elisha flinched, snapped out of whatever thoughts had preoccupied him. "Yes." He nodded. "We should go. Do you mind if I accompany you, Lady Schwarzer?"

"Hehe, there's no need for that kind of formality." Irene did her best to keep her smile from becoming awkward. "We're both students after all. But no, I would not mind if you accompanied me, Mister Reinford."

"Excellent, then let's be off!" Elisha declared, and the two of them began to make their way through the town, only slightly hurried.

"Wow, this place really is pretty enough for a postcard," Irene observed, taking in the village center and traditional looking buildings that wouldn't look too out of place in a rural hamlet. Combined with the blooming trees and the Thors tower in the distance, it was quite a sight.

"Yeah," Elisha agreed. "Don't see this much green stuff in Roer. A lot more metal."

Irene nodded. "Indeed, though Roer has its own charms."

"So do you," Elisha replied, almost automatically, before jolting up and waving a hand disarmingly. "Uh…sorry if that was too forwards."

"I will take that as a compliment, hehe," Irene replied, looking away so he wouldn't see the blush on her face. 'What is with this guy?'

The two of them walked through the park and down the path towards the Thors Military Academy proper in a bit of awkward silence. Up ahead was an archway with the school crest carved into it, under which several other people had gathered. Students and family, it looked like.

"Alan! It's good to see you again!" called a tall young man wearing a red jacket like a cape, hefting a large suitcase over his shoulder and waving amiably at a short, nondescript young man in a green uniform. An elderly man with an impressive mustache stood to the side, amusement clear on his face.

"Lawrence?! You remember me?" Alan (presumably), looked a bit taken aback.

"We met not too long ago, did we not, Klaus?"

"It has been some time, Master Lawrence, perhaps a year or so…yes, that seems about right."

'Oh, so the elderly man is his butler. Lawrence must be a noble.' Irene tilted her head in thought. She was sure she had never met Lawrence before, but something about him seemed familiar.

"Oh, so it was a fair bit ago," Lawrence admitted, scratching the side of his head before shrugging his shoulders. "No matter, it is still good to meet a devoted swordsman again."

'Ah! He must be Lawrence S. Arseid!' Irene's eyes widened as she watched the blue haired man with interest, focusing on the suitcase on his shoulder. 'I've seen some practitioners of the Arseid school, but not from an Arseid.'

"T-thank you, Lord Arseid," Alan stuttered, bowing at the hip. "I am honored that you'd call me that."

"Bah! No need for that!" Lawrence declared with a sweep of his free arm. "I am not the Lord of Legram, that is my father, and we are both to be students here, so no need to stand on ceremony. Not to mention that you would not be under my rule if I did hold my father's title anyway."

Alan let out a nervous laugh. "R-right. But I don't think the other nobles would appreciate that."

"You have a point," Lawrence acknowledged with a nod. "And I won't press if you prefer not to treat me informally. But I simply see no reason for our difference in class to matter on the practice field."

"I'll keep that in mind," Alan replied, looking more steady. "Thanks Arseid."

"It seems you are already making friends here, Master Lawrence," the old butler chuckled, bowing slightly. "I pray you find victory here in both your studies and with the sword."

"Thank you for your service, Klaus," Lawrence returned the bow gracefully, "and I am entrusting you with managing things while Father and I are away."

"It is only my duty," Klaus returned, "and I will perform it to my upmost."

"Farewell, then, Klaus." Lawrence bowed again, before turning and striding towards down the path to the academy, Alan trailing after him, looking rather nervous.

"Farewell, Master Lawrence," the old butler called fondly.

He watched the two young men depart for a moment, before he seemed to notice Irene and Elisha and turned to greet them. "Oh, my apologies, young lady, young sir, was I in your way?"

"Not at all!" Irene assured him. "I was simply taking in the scenery." 'Most certainly not eavesdropping! That would be rude.'

"Was that a sword in that suitcase?" Elisha blurted out incredulously. "That thing was huge!"

"The Arseid school mainly trains with greatswords," Irene supplied, "but you are right, that looked heavy." 'Wait, Klaus is taller than Elisha! But he looked so small next to Lawrence!'

"Young Master Lawrence is quite strong," Klaus explained, amusement evident in his voice, but his eyes were sharp, looking over the two youths before him with practiced polite curiosity. "If I may, you have the bearing of an aspiring sword maiden yourself, young lady."

"Ah! My apologies," Irene curtsied hurriedly. "I am Irene Schwarzer."

"Ohoh, the elder daughter of Lord Teo Schwarzer? A disciple of the Schwarzer style of Court Fencing, then?" The butler asked with clear curiosity. "Oh! Please forgive me, I am Klaus, butler to Viscount Viktor S. Arseid." He bowed apologetically.

"It is a pleasure to meet you." Irene smiled. "And while I have learned some techniques from Father, I primarily practice a form of The Eight Leaves, One Blade."

That seemed to light a spark in elderly man's eyes, and he gave Irene an appraising look. "A student of Master Yun Kai-Fa? Here of all places? And such an elegant young lady as well. This year's class of students seems to be quite an auspicious bunch."

'What is going on?!' Irene clamped her mouth shut, trying vainly to control the mad rush of embarrassment flooding through her. 'This many compliments in such a short time, from people who seemed honest–this was too much!'

"Uh…is Sword going to be a class?" Elisha asked sheepishly. "Cause that's a little out of my wheelhouse."

"There is a fencing club," Klaus answered. "And there are combat classes for those who wish to pursue a martial career, but I do not believe they are mandatory if you are seeking other forms of education." The old butler looked the blonde youth up and down. "Tell me, young man, I can see that you have some training. Which path do you follow?"

"I…uh…use a gun," Elisha replied awkwardly. "I shoot things."

The elderly man nodded. "That seems sensible, as it plays towards your strengths."

"What do you mean by that?" Elisha snapped, glaring at the butler.

"I meant no offense, young man," Klaus replied. "Simply that you have the hands of an artisan–engineer perhaps. While craftsmanship can certainly improve the quality of a sword, a gun is much more serviceable if you seek the ability to defend yourself, rather than pursuing martial excellence."

Elisha and Irene shared a glance, before staring at the shockingly perceptive butler.

"You are one scary old man," Elisha mumbled, fiddling with his luggage.

"Ha! High praise from a Reinford," Klaus barked a laugh, before glancing at his watch. "Even so, I'm afraid I have taken up quite a bit of your time. I wish you best of luck in your studies." He gave them both a formal bow. "Farewell, Lady Schwarzer, Mister Reinford."

Irene and Elisha returned his respects, and the old butler strode purposefully back towards the station.

"Is…uh…is that normal for nobility?" Elisha asked Irene cautiously.

"Having a butler?" Irene asked. "Pretty normal." 'We don't have one though.'

"Such a scary one?"

"That…not so much…I think…"

"...I guess nobles all have some quirks," Elisha muttered.

Irene nodded along absently. 'If I learned anything from St. Astraia, it's that nobles can be strange…and quite cruel.' "S-shall we go?" she suggested, checking the time on her watch again.

"...Yeah…" Elisha nodded in agreement.

The two of them continued on towards the academy, both put off balance by that encounter, and in short order, they arrived at the gate to the campus proper.

"Huh," Elisha grunted, looking up at the bell tower in the main building. "So this is Thors Military Academy."

"Mmhmm!" Irene nodded, making a noise of agreement, looking around the place she would be living and learning at for the foreseeable future. "Founded by Emperor Dreichels himself in year 985–"

"Must have been renovated then," Elisha observed, "buildings look too new."

"Well of course!" Irene shot back, slightly miffed at being interrupted. "The campus has been renovated to accommodate orbal technology, among other things."

"Is it really the same school then?" Elisha wondered, "if everything's changed?"

"Not exactly the same," Irene conceded, giving her companion a confused look. "But the same spirit remains–and it's not like things don't change every day, hehe."

"It's not as if structures themselves have spirit though," Elisha mused, as if Irene hadn't said anything. "Though I suppose there can be traditions and whatnot. But if something is done for tradition's sake, can that be said to be the same spirit as the original?"

'He seems to get lost in thought a lot, hehe.' Irene smiled awkwardly as the blond youth continued rambling. 'But it would be rude to just walk away…it would also be rude to interrupt.'

"But even then, guidelines exist for a reason, traditions didn't start from nowhere, so ignoring them is probably quite foolish too."

'Um…what do I do here?' Irene shifted uncertainly, perhaps a bit morbidly curious where Elisha's train of thought was leading him.

"But everything has a cost of some sort, it's obvious to engineers and technicians, why can't management see that–?"

BeBeep!

The sound of a car horn finally snapped Elisha out of his thoughts, and the two of them hurriedly moved out of the way as an expensive looking orbal limousine rolled to a stop at the school gate.

'I've definitely seen this car before. Is that…?'

"That's a fancy car," Elisha observed. "Looks custom made too. Very expensive."

The chauffeur stepped out of the front and walked back to open the rear passenger door. "Thank you for your patience, my lady. We've arrived at the academy."

"It was no issue," a cool, aristocratic voice replied, and a stunning young woman stepped out of the car, nodding briefly to her chauffeur, before looking over the academy with feigned indifference. "Thank you for spending the time to drive me here."

Oyster blue eyes, blond hair done neatly up in a crown braided bun, and looking the epitome of feminine noble grace, it was none other than Julia Albarea.

"Please, milady, let me take your luggage," the chauffeur requested in a resigned tone, as if he already knew what the response would be.

"Thank you, Arnauld, but that will not be necessary," Julia declined. "I would prefer not to stand out more than necessary."

"Kinda late for that, with that kind of ride," Elisha muttered, not nearly as quiet as he probably intended.

Arnauld threw an irritated glance over his shoulder, and Julia's gaze likewise turned in their direction–

"Lady Albarea!" Irene called, curtseying formally. "It's good to see you again."

Julia locked eyes with her, fixing her with a cold glare, before a slight smirk pulled the side of the blonde noblewoman's mouth up. "Well if it isn't little Miss Student Council President. Are you waiting to greet everyone at the gate again, Schwarzer?"

"You know this girl?" Elisha stage whispered–

"O-oh, no, nothing of the sort," Irene replied, ignoring the blonde man next to her. "I just happened to see you arrive." She smiled, closing her eyes momentarily. "And please, I'm no longer the student council president." 'Thank Aidios.'

"Those two were standing inconsiderately at the gate," Arnauld added, giving Irene a dirty look.

"This road isn't even designed to have cars drive on it, let alone fancy ones like this," Elisha pointed out. "Also, driving a fancy car all the way up here is gonna draw a lot of attention, you know–though it is a very nice car."

True to his word, there were quite a few other students observing the scene, some of them already whispering to each other about it.

Arnauld glared at the blonde man. "Mind your tongue! You are speaking with–"

"Arnauld, please," Julia cut him off. "I can introduce myself. And he has a point." The chauffeur did not look pleased at all, but acquiesced.

Julia turned to Elisha, a bored expression fixed on her face, and dipped in a perfect curtsey. "As you may have guessed, I am Julia Albarea. And who might you be?"

"Elisha Reinford, at your service." Elisha managed a stiff, but appropriate bow. "I am honored to meet such a flower of nobility as yourself."

Arnauld's glare only intensified, but Julia merely raised a curious eyebrow. "Well met, Mr. Reinford. How did you come to accompany Irene?"

"We bumped into each other at the station," Elisha shrugged, posture relaxing. "She seems a decent enough sort, didn't turn weird when I mentioned my name."

A flicker of amusement passed through Julia's eyes, and she dipped her chin slightly. "It is as you say. For a Schwarzer, forming relationships for political gain is an entirely foreign idea. Isn't that so, Irene?" Her oyster blue eyes turned to the young lady in question.

"H-huh?" Irene stuttered.

Arnauld clicked his tongue disapprovingly, but refrained from saying anything after Julia glared at him. The blonde noble sighed, shaking her head as she surveyed the number of people watching the exchange. "As pleasant as this conversation is, I do believe we are blocking the road, Arnauld."

"They are of no concern–"

"I will be fine, Arnauld," Julia interjected icily. "You may leave."

"...As you will, my lady." The chauffeur bowed, getting back into the car.

The young Albarea strode purposefully towards the Thors Academy Gate, halting under it to sweep her gaze across the campus, before turning to Irene, a small smile pulling at her mouth. "It seems we are schoolmates yet again, Irene." Her eyes flicked meaningfully over their red jackets. "Perhaps we are even in the same class."

"You know what the red jackets mean?" Elisha asked curiously.

"No," Julia replied, not bothering to look at the man. "Merely an inference." She turned to gaze up at the Academy bell tower. "Regardless, if the likes of you two are my classmates, then my stay here might just be tolerable."

She strode forwards, every inch a proper noble lady. "Come, we wasted enough time as it is."

"R-right!" Irene followed a half-step behind her friend.

"...Nobles are weird." Elisha was not far behind.

A short way past the gate, the trio was met by a portly young man in a technician's jacket and a small girl wearing the uniform of one of the commoner classes.

"Oh hello you three!" The small girl chirped. "That makes all of them I think."

"Yup," her companion agreed. "That makes you-"

"Julia Albarea," the blonde noblewomen cut in with an annoyed look. "And who are you?"

"Ah, sorry!" the small girl apologized. "I am Towa Herschel, the student council president."

Julia threw an amused look at Irene. "Well now, it seems there are two of you. This might get a bit out of hand."

"Wait," Elisha pointed at the portly youth's clothes, "can we wear that instead of these dumb uniforms?"

"H-huh? What do you mean?" Towa stammered, looking between Julia and Irene. "And George, didn't I tell you this would happen?"

"I didn't think anyone would want to wear something like this," George mumbled, recoiling slightly from Elisha's intense look.

"Hmm…you should watch yourself, President Towa," Julia remarked drily. "Irene might be coming for your position."

"Julia!" Irene exclaimed, stamping her foot. "Be nice!"

"If you insist," the blonde noblewomen sighed. "Do you have a purpose for accosting us? Or just the standard greeting?"

"R-right!" Towa exclaimed. "Welcome to Thors Military Academy!" She turned to Irene, then to Elisha. "And that means you are Irene Schwarzer and Elisha Reinford, right?"

Irene nodded. Elisha shrugged. "Seems about right."

"Are those your weapons you got there?" George asked, gesturing at their suitcases. "We'll need to take them off your hands for a moment." He flinched slightly as Elisha glared at him, clutching his luggage protectively while Julia gave him a scathing look. "It'll only be for a bit, you'll hardly miss 'em, I swear!"

"A-ah, I remember seeing something like that in the handbook," Irene chimed in, handing over her bag, hoping to diffuse the situation.

"Oh, was there?" Elisha asked sheepishly. "Didn't read all of it."

"Ah, I suppose it would make sense they would assign the student council president for that task," Julia conceded, handing over her luggage.

"Just don't jostle it too much," Elisha warned, dumping his bag on George. "Wouldn't want it to explode."

"G-got it, right," the portly youth mumbled nervously, staring down at the bag in his hand with concern.

"It won't be long until the entrance ceremony," Towa added, looking a bit overburdened by Irene's bag. "It's right over there, can't miss it."

"Much obliged," Julia nodded, striding past the two upperclassmen. Irene curtsied briefly before following.

"Bye!" Elisha waved, "try not to explode!"

"...Man, this class is scary."

"G-george!"

'I'm not that intimidating, am I?'

To Irene's surprise, it did not take the staff much effort to get the new students into their seats. 'I guess older students would have more discipline, unlike the St. Astraia students. This is also a Military Academy, even if it isn't solely one anymore.'

There were several of her old classmates present, such as Ferris Florad and Bridget Falkenheim, but the trio had arrived too late to chat. Julia walked to the front row as if she belonged there (which she did), seating herself next to the purple-haired daughter of Count Florald, a mask of indifference fixed on her face.

Bridget waved warmly to Irene, and patted the seat next to where she was sitting in the second row. Irene sat down next to the sandy-haired lady with a grateful smile.

"It isn't like you to cut it so close, Schwarzer," Bridget whispered as the Vice-principal stepped up to the podium. "What held you up? And what is the red uniform all about?"

Irene winced at the reminder of their near tardiness. "Let's talk later, the ceremony is about to start."

"As you wish, Miss Student Council President," Bridget huffed, but turned her attention to the front nonetheless.

A flash of guilt swept through Irene as she realized she had forgotten about Elisha, but a quick glance around showed her that he had taken a seat towards the back, and didn't seem all that upset about being left behind. 'I'm going to have to apologize for that later.'

She looked back towards the front, only to find Bridget giving her a curious look. Irene winced at being caught, an embarrassed flush creeping up her neck. Bridget giggled lightly, even as Irene glared at her.

Letting a huff of irritation at her friend's cheek, Irene turned her head towards the podium, where the Principal looked to be beginning his speech, pointedly not looking at Bridget.

Overall, it was not an unusual speech. It had the usual greetings and ceremonies, but Principal Vandyck's booming voice lent his words much more credence than the words themselves.

'His military background is quite evident. Appropriate for Thors Military Academy, I suppose.'

"...Now, if I may, I'd like to say a few words about this academy's illustrious history," the principal boomed. He went on to briefly describe the school's founder, Emperor Dreichels the Lionhearted, 73rd Emperor of Erebonia, who ended the War of the Lions, with the help of allies from the Nord Highlands and the knights of the Eisenritter.

Irene's gaze flicked over to the tall blue-haired young man seated a ways down her row. 'We even have one of the descendants of the Eisenritter in our year!'

"It was to be a place where young folk like yourself could learn the art of war," the principal explained. "But with the mechanization of the military, many of our graduates now pursue careers outside of the army."

'And yet, the army is the largest it's ever been in history,' Irene mused. 'And that isn't even accounting for the Noble Provincial Armies.'

"Our mission, however, remains the same," the principal continued. "To prepare you students to fulfill Emperor Dreichels' famous mandate." He leaned forward, a passionate gleam sparking in his eyes.

"Arise, O Youth, and become the foundation of the world!"

Most of the new students had heard the academy's famous motto before, but here and now, with it booming through the assembly hall, reverberating through acoustic engineering and the thunderous voice of a retired general, it suddenly carried greater weight, as if centuries of tradition laid expectations on their shoulders.

Irene couldn't help but sit up straighter, and she noticed in the corner of her eye that many other students also shifted in the same way.

"Much has changed since this school was founded," the retired general said, voice softer, more contemplative. "But the fact remains that the future is the domain of the young. Which begs the question…"

His gaze swept out across the assembled students, and while he couldn't possibly have singled out each one of them, it was enough to feel as if the weight of his scrutiny rested on all of them.

"What qualities must one possess, what actions must one take, what manner of person must one become, to take your place as part of that foundation?"

The principal stood straight again, a slight smile evident even under his bushy mustache. "I hope this credo serves as a guide and inspiration for you, both during your tenure here and beyond. Go forth, my students! The world awaits the great things you will one day accomplish."

'The foundation of the world…no pressure at all, hehe…'

"The general is quite good at oration," Bridget observed, glancing at Irene. "Do you think they teach lessons for that in the army?"

"I would not know," Irene replied. "I would assume so."

"They definitely teach shouting," a sardonic voice chimed in from Bridget's other side. "Otherwise their men wouldn't be able to hear them over the fire and noise of battle."

The speaker was a tall young lady, with blonde hair curled in ringlets and mischievous blue eyes. She was mostly dressed in the white uniform of a noble student, but she was wearing pants under her skirt.

"Pardon me, have we met?" Irene asked, not remembering her from St. Astraia.

"Well we have now," her new acquaintance snorted.

"This is Margarita Angelica Dresden," Bridget sniffed with a long-suffering tone. "And she's only here because Lawrence Arseid is attending."

"Among other things," Margarita acknowledged shamelessly with a flip of her hair.

"W-what?!" Irene squeaked, drawing a snort from Bridget and a full blown laugh from Margarita.

"Ehem!" The vice principal cleared his throat pointedly, glaring in Margarita's direction, to no effect. "And that brings us to the close of Thors' two hundred and fifteenth entrance ceremony."

"That's heiny Heinrich for you," Margarita snorted, drawing an incredulous look from Irene.

"Next," the admittedly creepy looking vice principal called, "please proceed to the class designated in your guidebook. There, you will go over the school rules as well as your classes' curriculum. That is all. Dismissed!"

"Well, then, shall we be off then, Falkenheim?" Margarita asked, stretching her arms and legs out like a cat.

"Right, to Class II," Bridget agreed, before turning to the indigo-haired lady next to her. "That's where you were assigned too, right Irene?"

"...No…" the girl in question replied hesitantly. "My guidebook didn't say anything about what class I was in."

"It isn't like Thors to make that kind of mistake," Bridget remarked.

"Could be the red uniform," Margarita suggested. "Looks snazzy, I kind of want one." She shrugged in an exaggerated and very much unladylike fashion. "Maybe you're in class VI."

"Maybe," Irene mumbled, glancing at the other students already filtering out of the auditorium. "You two should get going. It would not be a good start to be late on your first day."

"As you say, Miss Student Council President," Bridget sighed, smoothing out her skirt.

"I'm not–!"

"Suit yourself class mom," Margarita added, nodding to Irene before leaving as well.

'Class mom?!'

"Don't worry, you'll have Julia with you at least," Bridget offered, before hurrying out of the auditorium herself.

Irene glanced around nervously as Bridget exited the building. Julia gave her an idle look, Elisha…did he fall asleep?!

"Alll riiight! Students in red uniforms, can I get your attention please?!"

A fuchsia haired woman dressed in a blue long coat belted together under her bust, thigh-high boots and a yellow shirt strutted in their direction with a slightly manic grin on her face.

'S-so indecent! She can't be our instructor, can she?!'

"By now, you're probably all confused. 'Where's my class assignment?' you're probably thinking." The outrageous woman closed her eyes and smiled wider. "That's perfectly understandable–your situation is just a liiiitle more complicated than the other students'."

Her eyes opened and she shifted her weight to one foot, resting one hand on her hip. "But before I explain, I'd like for all of you to join me in a special orienteering exercise."

"Is that a real word?" Elisha wondered.

"Yes." the purple haired young man from earlier replied flaty, adjusting the glasses on his face.

"Worry not!" their instructor(?) exclaimed, looking far too cheerful, "everything will be made clear soon enough! Now, right this way please!" She turned and marched right out of the auditorium, not bothering to look back to see if anyone was following.

"I wonder…" purple hair and glasses pondered, before following the shameless woman.

"We're going to have to fight something, aren't we?" Lawrence Arseid muttered, before also exiting the building.

'Looks like we just have to follow.'

The red uniformed students trailed their probable instructor out into the main building's courtyard, then to the right, past several other buildings then along a dirt path that ran between several old looking trees.

At the end of the path was a weathered, ancient looking building, perhaps old enough to date back to the school's founding.

"Oh, wonderful," Julia griped. "All these new buildings, but no, we are relegated to the dirty, hidden one."

The girl with green hair Irene remembered seeing at the train station gave Julia a pointed look, before narrowing her eyes at the blonde noble. She didn't say anything, and Julia ignored her, but that looked like trouble.

"W-well, it looks like an old schoolhouse," Irene observed. "Maybe it's a cultural landmark?"

The purple haired boy let out a snort at that, but paid Irene no further heed. Their instructor(?) seemingly ignored them, humming to herself as she fiddled with the lock on the doors.

"Forgive my ignorance," a tall young woman with a darker complexion and deep brown hair pulled into a neat braid began, turning to face Irene, "but I was under the impression that Erebonians generally make a serious effort in preserving culturally significant landmarks. Was I mistaken?"

"N-no, you were right, which makes this more strange," Irene replied, giving the other girl a curious look. The taller girl's features were unusual for Erebonia, perhaps she was from–

"If I may, are you from the Nord Highlands?" Lawrence asked, giving the dark-skinned girl a speculative look.

"I am," she confirmed with a nod, "so please bear with me, many things here are foreign to me."

"Of course," Lawrence nodded graciously. "A school founded by Emperor Dreichels should always be open and welcoming to a descendant of his first allies."

The doors of the old schoolhouse clicked open, and the fuschia haired woman pushed them open with a hum, stepping inside with nary a look backwards.

"Trap."

Irene blinked, head swiveling towards the speaker, eyes landing on a short young man– 'how old was he?'–with short cropped silver hair. 'I didn't even notice he was there, how did I miss him?'

"Gah!" the green haired girl burst out. "Is she even going to explain what's going on?" She whirled towards the silver haired boy. "And you, what do you mean it's a trap?!"

"Clearly a trap," the silver haired boy muttered laconically, unimpressed by the green-haired girl's irritation.

"Is this some sort of test of courage?" Lawrence suggested, eyeing the building curiously.

"Hmph, looks like something of that sort," the purple haired young man agreed.

"Grrgh! I'm no coward!" A slight ginger-haired girl clenched her fists, squared her shoulders, and marched right up the stairs into the building.

"Hah!" Lawrence boomed with laughter. "With such an example how could we not follow?" He likewise strode into the old schoolhouse.

Spurred on, the rest of the students followed their peers in.

'This class sure seems an interesting bunch.'

The inside of the building looked no better, at first glance, but as Irene flicked her gaze around the interior, something niggled at her mind. The place just felt…off.

She scraped her shoe against the stone floor. Plenty of friction. No dust. On second glance, there were also no other typical sights in an abandoned building. No spiderwebs or debris.

"Just what is this place?'

Their instructor strutted up some stairs and out onto a half level which could serve as a stage of sorts, and the students automatically clustered closer to where she was standing.

'Huh, at St. Astraia that would have taken a lot more cajoling.'

"The name's Sara Valestein," the fuschia haired woman declared with a smirk. "I'm the instructor for Class VII, which means you get the pleasure of seeing me all year. Glad to finally meet you!" She closed her eyes and grinned, in a way that Irene wasn't certain was supposed to be cute or intimidating.

"...Class VII?" the green haired girl asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I thought there were only five classes?" the ginger girl asked.

"That has been the case since the renovations a couple of decades ago," the purple-haired youth confirmed, looking unruffled by the revelation. "Divided based on social class and home region. At least until now."

"Eyup! Right you are, mister top scorer on the entrance exam!" Instructor Sara cheered. "Students in each year are divided into five classes: two for the nobility and three for commoners. It's been like that for a long time, but this year we decided to shake things up a bit…so we added a sixth class."

She folded her arms across her chest, an all too pleased grin on her face. "Fittingly called: Class VII! And in Class VII we recognize no distinction between nobles and commoners."

"...And here I thought Thors could count," Elisha muttered.

"Nobles and commoners in the same class?" Lawrence mused. "Fascinating."

"Is this some kind of sick joke?!" the green-haired girl nearly screeched, glaring accusingly up at their instructor, "and how come this is the first I've heard of this?!"

'Wasn't she a commoner? That's a reaction a lot of nobles would have…'

"Well…uh…" their instructor mumbled intelligently, "which one were you again?"

"Masha Regnitz!" the green-haired girl spat, pushing her glasses up her nose just a bit aggressively. "And mixing commoners and nobles is an absurd idea! Am I going to be forced to spend two years shoulder to shoulder with those arrogant, stuck up hedonists?!"

'But those of us here aren't hedonists, are we?'

"I resent that accusation," Lawrence called, giving Masha an annoyed, but mostly confused look. "Arrogant, I could understand, but I take offense at being painted a hedonist."

Masha's eyes widened for a moment as she craned her neck up to look at the blue-haired youth, taking a small step back as she realized just how much taller he was. "W-why, you..!"

Julia let out an amused scoff, drawing the ire of the bespectacled girl.

"What are you laughing at?!"

"Oh, nothing of note," Julia replied airily, not deigning to turn towards the shorter girl. "The irony of your outburst is just too amusing."

"Is that so?" Masha sneered, directing her outrage at the less imposing target. "And whose palms did your daddy have grease for a pampered powdered lady to get into this prestigious academy." Her eyes narrowed angrily. "Or did daddy have to sell your virtue–"

"You go too far!" Lawrence boomed, his voice echoing through the room thunderously, causing the other students to flinch.

"Peace, Lawrence," Julia called, nodding in his direction. "I can defend myself."

"Of course," Lawrence bowed slightly, voice softer. "I would not deign to imply otherwise, milady."

The sudden noise and the deference the massive noble showed Julia seemed to rattle the rest of class, especially Masha, who turned her gaze back to Julia with the look of a person who realized they may have bitten off more than they could chew.

"A-and just who are you anyways?" she sniped at Julia, trying to recover some of her earlier confidence.

"Julia Albarea," the blonde noblewoman replied sweetly, even going as far as to dip into a perfect curtsey. "It is such a pleasure to meet you, the Imperial Governor's little girl."

Masha flinched again at the realization she had picked a fight with the daughter of one the highest ranking nobles in the whole nation.

"S-she's from one of the four great houses!" the ginger girl whispered.

"Ah, the daughter of Duke Helmut Albarea, lord of all of Kruezen," the purple haired young man commented. "That is about as noble as you can get, short of imperial."

"Oh right," Elisha muttered. "That Albarea."

'Wait, how did he not realize–?'

The young woman from Nord just looked confused, while the silver haired boy looked like he was nodding off on his feet.

"Do you expect me to be impressed?!" Masha snarled, unwilling to back down. "Your family lineage and your pet thug mean nothing to me!"

"Ha!" Julia laughed. "You would call Lawrence S. Arseid, the son of Viscount Viktor S. Arseid, the Radiant Blademaster, a thug?" She shook her head disdainfully. "You shame all commoners with your ignorance and lack of tact."

"Why you–!"

"That's enough!" Irene shouted, slamming her right foot slightly forwards and automatically reaching for weapons that weren't there. 'Oh…everyone is looking at me…'

"U-um…it's the first day of class," she mumbled, face heating up from all the sudden attention. "Do you really want to get into trouble before we even start classes…hehe?"

'Please stop staring at me!'

"Well at least one of you can keep a cool head," Instructor Sara observed with a short laugh, before fixing the Masha and Julia with a stern stare. "Now it seems that a few of you already have grievances, but now isn't the time to air them. I'll take complaints later, but first you have your fun little ice breaking orienteering exercise!" Her serious demeanor dissolved as she grinned dangerously.

"Just what is an o-orienteering thing?" the ginger girl asked, shifting side to side nervously. "And why are we in this creepy place anyways?"

"Assuming our instructor is using the word correctly, it would be some form of outdoor activity," the purple haired young man explained. "Typically a cross between navigation and treasure hunting."

'I really need to learn their names…wait!'

"Is that why we had to hand over our weapons at the gate?" Irene asked. 'Though what would we need them for?'

"Huh, nothing gets by you, does it?" Instructor Sara observed with amusement, stepping backwards in a way that was not suspicious at all. "Buut, I don't want to spoil all your fun, so let's get started, shall we?"

She pressed her hand against a pillar, and the floor beneath the students' feet shifted.

The flat surface they had been standing on suddenly became a steep ramp, drawing shouts of surprise as Class VII tumbled down and backwards.

Irene reacted fast enough to lunge for the new ledge, but she was a rege too short to grab on.

'Aw, crap. What a way to start school.'

She fell into the darkness.

AN. Well this idea has kind of taken off. Partly inspired by Ashen Chevaliere by Light1108 on Ao3 and the Jessica Schleiden SI by Randomguy. Despite this undertaking, I actually have not played through any of the Sen no Kiseki games fully, so please point out any lore discrepancies you might see (there is so much lore). Of course, Class VII is going to be different, and I plan on tweaking a couple of things, such as having St. Astraia being more of a middle school/feeder school into Thors, despite several characters notably making a choice between the two schools, or having the drinking age being more in line with Germany, since it seems the in game drinking age has more to do with it being a Japanese game.

If you want to chat about it outside this thread, I have a Discord, even if that's mostly been for my other fic so far (which I still have to finish).