A/N: I'm so happy about your thoughts (HRHCatherine, STAG98, and LadyHilariexxx)! Thank you for constantly leaving reviews! I truly appreciated that. Happy reading, and I hope you'll enjoy this update.
Two weeks later
Irene knelt down to Erza's height, adjusting the child's beanie with a gentle smile. The gates of the Royal Academy loomed behind them, a grand and imposing structure that seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky. Erza looked up at Irene, her small hands clutching the strap of her satchel tightly. Sensing the child's uneasiness, Irene placed her hands on Erza's shoulders, squeezing them gently, reassuring her that she was fine.
"Can't you just stay, Lady Irene?" Erza asked, tightening her grasp on the satchel.
Irene's heart ached at the child's question; she wanted to stay so badly if it were not for the bylaws of the academy. She was extremely troubled with the idea of leaving her at the mercy of the nobles' mischievous children. What if they hurt her? She shook her head, trying to ease her worries. She reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from Erza's face.
"Of course, I would want to stay, but that's not the case here, Erza," she said.
"Guardians are not allowed inside, but I'll always come back for you later. I'll pick you up after your classes." She added.
"Okay, I understand, Lady Irene. I'll be waiting for you then!" she beamed brightly enough to erase Irene's worries.
Irene stood up, her smile still in place as Erza walked to the gates. Before her figure entered the gates, she turned around one last time and ran to hug Irene. Irene blinked in surprise as she felt her arms around her waist. Erza loosened her grip and smiled as she waved at Irene before traipsing back to the gates. Irene waved back before watching her small figure blending into the crowd of students.
In the classroom hall
The Royal Academy's grand classroom hall was a sprawling, majestic space. Since the academy prided itself on fostering a competitive yet nurturing environment where anyone could excel, all students, despite of age, were merged into one classroom regardless of age or rank. Erza found herself amazed by the grandiose setup of the academy. With a hopeful smile, Erza chose a seat at the front of the class, eager to see more of the magical podium intended for their instructors. She settled in, her bag placed neatly by her side, and began to arrange her materials without knowing the unspoken rules of the class. The students were meticulously ranked based on their class standing. The room buzzed with silence as some students noticed the top-ranked students walking in her direction.
"Hey, newbie," the black-haired girl stated. "Who do you think you are, sitting in the front?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't know there was an assigned seating." Erza looked up, confused.
"Well, there is not only an assigned seating but a hierarchy," she chimed in, crossing her arms. "Only the top-ranked students get to sit here. You belong in the back." She ordered as she picked up her things and threw them to the floor.
"Your manners are appalling. Did no one teach you how to behave in a prestigious academy like this?" she frowned as her eyes filled with disdain.
Erza's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She opened her mouth to respond but struggled to find the right words. The attention of the nearby students only amplified her discomfort. I'm such a shame. Lady Irene must've been humiliated if she learned I was not even aware of these simple rules. She gritted her teeth as she felt a burning sensation in the corner of her eyes. She bowed and immediately picked up her things before running to the back row.
Simon arrived late to the classroom hall with his usual composed demeanor. As he scanned the room for an available seat, his eyes fell on Erza sitting at the back. He knew the rules well: seating was a matter of rank and standing, and any deviation would draw unnecessary attention. Despite his desire to have Erza sit beside him, he understood the importance of adhering to the academy's traditions. With a resigned sigh, he proceeded to his assigned seat near the front just as their instructor arrived.
The class fell into silence as the doors swung open. In walked an old woman of short stature, her flabby face etched with deep wrinkles. The students exchanged puzzled glances, their curiosity piqued. The podium, too high for her small frame, prompted an exaggerated roll of her eyes. With a wave of her hand, the old woman used her magic to transform herself into a vibrant woman in her forties. The transformation was swift, and soon, she stood before them, tall and commanding, with an air of authority.
"Good morning, class. I am Hilda, your new instructor."
The students straightened in their seats, their attention fully captured by Hilda's presence. She exuded a sense of authority, which Erza admired so much. She intently listened as Hilda explained details about herself.
"I have been teaching at the Royal Academy for many years," Hilda continued, her gaze sweeping across the room.
"I expect discipline from each of you. I will not tolerate any form of unruly behavior from any of you, no matter what your status is. You always bear that in mind," she said pausing, trying to emphasize her words.
Hilda stood at the front of the classroom, her eyes scanning the room with a mixture of authority and curiosity. "Since this is our first meeting," she began, her voice echoing through the grand hall, "I want each of you to introduce yourselves. Tell me your name, your background, and what you hope to achieve here at the Royal Academy."
The students shifted in their seats, exchanging glances. Hilda's gaze settled on the first row, and she nodded toward Simon, the most brilliant student in the academy. "Let's start with you, Your Highness, Prince Simon."
"My name is Simon Mikazuchi, the Crown Prince of the Kingdom. I am here to further my understanding of magic and to ensure that I am well-prepared to serve my people in the future."
"A noble goal, Prince Simon." Hilda nodded approvingly.
Erza was quite intimidated; even the order of the introduction was based on the hierarchy of the students. Her eyes then focused on the next student, who was presumably the second top student in the academy, it was the same black-haired girl that chastised her earlier. She rose with a haughty demeanor, her black hair cascading down her back like a dark waterfall. Her eyes flickered with confidence as she glanced around the room, making sure she had everyone's attention.
"My name is Minerva Orland," she began, looking for a particular person at the back row before continuing.
"I come from a long line of powerful magicians. My father is the head instructor of the magic class here at the Royal Academy." Minerva continued her gaze briefly, locking onto Erza with a hint of a smirk.
"I aim to follow in my father's footsteps and exceed even his accomplishments. My goal is to become the most powerful magician in this academy and to uphold my family's legacy." Minerva said before Hilda shook her head in disbelief.
Erza, sitting at the back, shuddered involuntarily at the mention of Minerva's father. She remembered the condescending tone Minerva had used with her earlier and couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. What do I do? I had offended the magic instructor's daughter. What will Lady Irene say? Her thoughts reeling with anxiety as she thought that Irene might get disappointed with her because of her actions.
After a while, it was Erza's turn. She stood, her hands slightly trembling but her voice steady.
"My name is Erza. I come from a small village, and I am here to learn everything I can about magic."
"Just Erza?" the child in front asked, making her flustered.
There was a moment of silence, and then a ripple of murmurs spread through the room. In a kingdom where family and status are taken pride in, the thought of having a child with no last name shocks the children. Hilda's expression turned sour at the behavior of her students. Erza's trembling hands turned white as she felt a nauseating feeling about the cold gazes she was receiving.
"Enough! How can the academy allow such unruly behavior? Silence!" She hissed as the murmurs died down.
Later that afternoon
As the class ended, Simon Erza gathered her belongings and bolted from the classroom, her heart pounding in her chest. She hated there. The suffocating feeling of being around the students. She needed the comfort of Irene's presence, the reassuring comfort her presence brought her that everything would be alright. Will Lady Irene still treat me the same? I'm such a failure. She tells herself as she bit her lip as she darted outside of the room.
Simon, delayed by a brief conversation with a fellow student, looked around the now-empty classroom. He had hoped to catch up with Erza, but she was already gone. He sighed, knowing she must have headed for the gates.
"Isn't she particularly brilliant for her age?" Simon asked himself, remembering their discussions earlier.
Moments ago
"Is war ever reasonable if it brings peace, or does it merely create more chaos?" Hilda asked as she wrote the words war and peace on the board.
The room fell silent as the students pondered the complex question. Simon raised his hand; he was the first to speak.
"War is not a means to bring peace," he said firmly. "It creates chaos, suffering, and destruction. Peace achieved through violence is fragile and temporary, and it often leads to more conflict." He paused, trying to explain his side.
"War not only costs the lives of innocent civilians; it creates further conflicts that could have been avoided. In many cases, wars are waged not for noble reasons but for power, greed, and pride. The suffering it brings to innocent people is unjustifiable."
Hilda nodded, acknowledging his perspective; as expected he was brilliant and diplomatic like most teachers commented. However, Hilda looked around the room, inviting other opinions. She was expecting someone in front to raise their hands, but it seemed that all of them concurred with his words until someone from the back raised her hand. The room turned their attention to her, curious about what she would say as Hilda called her name.
"I think war can bring peace," Erza began, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. "If the previous lords of the kingdom had not waged war against the oppressive rule of foreign invaders, we wouldn't have the peace and freedom we enjoy today."
"I understand what His Highness Prince Simon is saying about the cost of war and the importance of seeking peace, but I think it's important to remember that seeing war only in its bad light limits our understanding of the sacrifices made for the freedoms we enjoy today." She paused once more, glancing around the room to gauge her classmates' reactions.
"We are fortunate to live in a time of peace, but that peace came at a great cost. Our ancestors fought to free us from oppression and to ensure that we could live in a society where we have rights and freedoms. It's because of their courage and sacrifice that we can sit here today, discussing these issues openly."
"Thus, when all peaceful options are exhausted, war can be the only way to overthrow tyranny and restore justice. It's not that war is inherently good, but it can be necessary to achieve a lasting peace." She concluded before returning to her seat.
Hilda's eyes sparkled with interest as she listened to Erza's argument. "An interesting perspective, Erza," she said.
"How old are you again?" she asked.
Present
Outside, Erza ran through the academy corridors and out into the courtyard, her small feet pounding against the cobblestone path. The chill of the winter air bit at her cheeks, but she barely noticed as she pushed through the gates and into the open area beyond. She came to a halt, panting and looking around desperately. For a minute, she stood there, her breath forming small clouds in the cold air. She scanned the area, waiting for a glimpse of Irene, but failed. Erza's heart sank a little more with every passing minute. She wrapped her arms around herself, both to keep warm and to steady her racing heart. She said she'd pick me up. She thought to herself, trying to calm down. Erza looks up upon feeling a shadow hovering over her. Irene's tall, graceful form emerged, her cloak billowing in the wind. Relief washed over Erza; she rose and hugged Irene.
"Lady Irene!"
Irene's eyes softened as she felt her embrace. She patted her head and smiled, picking up the child in her arms. She unties her scarf to warm the child. Why is she so clingy? Irene asked herself, unsure if she's loving it or not.
"Am I late?" she asked as Erza wrapped her arms around her neck.
"No, just in time." She replied as she shared her scarf with her.
One week later
The announcement of reshuffling the class standings based on student performance spread quickly through the Royal Academy. Erza, who had started at the back of the classroom, found herself moved to the second row. Although she still wasn't in the coveted front row due to the lack of a magic class—a crucial subject for top student standings—her progress had not gone unnoticed. The news created quite a stir among the students, especially Minerva.
Minerva, already feeling threatened by Erza's presence, was now extremely agitated. She couldn't fathom how this backbencher had suddenly sparked the interest and admiration of the teachers. It didn't help that rumors had started circulating about Erza being the illegitimate daughter of the sage of the Scarlet Moon, Irene. These whispers only fueled Minerva's resentment and the curiosity of the other students.
After class, as the other students made their way home, Minerva saw her opportunity to confront Erza. She caught up with Erza just outside the academy building, where the ground was blanketed in fresh snow. Without warning, Minerva pushed Erza, causing her to fall into the cold, wet snow.
"Listen, you little love child," Minerva sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.
"A product of two persons' lust has no place in this academy. You put that in that tiny head of yours," Minerva sneered as she whispered to her ear.
Erza remained silent, trying to compose herself as she picked herself and her stuff on the snow. She doesn't want any trouble. She hated her treatment, but she chose to ignore it. Her father was influential, so she didn't want to bother Irene as it may result in conflict; however, Minerva's next statement made her snap.
"And that opportunist mother of yours," Minerva continued, her eyes gleaming with malice. "How dare she use her position to enroll you in this prestigious academy. Do you really think you'll bear that Scarlet last name because you're doing well? She will never acknowledge you. YOU USELESS BITCH! Your mother, the Scarlet Sage, is a slut-" Minerva's eyes widened as she felt a sudden sting on her cheeks.
"Don't you dare badmouth Lady Irene in front of me!" she yelled, making everyone turn their head.
Her face is as red as her face. Seeing Minerva stunned, Erza grabbed the opportunity to bolt outside the gates. She quickened her pace, not wanting Minerva to catch up. She paused, trying to catch her breath. She doesn't want trouble, but she can't control herself. How dare she badmouth Lady Irene? Hearing a familiar voice from afar calling her name, Erza looked around, searching for Irene. She broke into a run upon seeing her, and Irene decided to meet the child halfway. Erza threw herself into Irene's arms, clinging to her tightly. Irene wrapped her arms around Erza, providing the comfort she desperately needed.
"Did you tripped while running her? What happened to your dress?" Irene asked as she carried her in her arms.
"I'm fine, Lady Irene. Look, I got a perfect score from Teacher Hilda's class." She beamed as she showed her the papers in her bag.
"I see, aren't my scarlet that smart? How can you be so lovely?" Irene said, proud of her achievement.
"I had been promoted to the second row, Lady Irene."
"That's wonderful!" Irene smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from Erza's face.
Irene sat beside Erza, gently combing her hair as she lulled her to sleep. The rhythmic strokes of the comb through Erza's red locks seemed to calm the child's racing thoughts. Erza gazed up at Irene, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"We'll be having our magic class, Lady Irene. I'm so excited for tomorrow," Erza whispered.
"You don't need to try so hard to learn magic, Erza," Irene said with a hint of concern in her eyes.
"I'll do my best, Lady Irene. If I can do well in the magic class, I can even be one of the top students." Erza shook her head slightly, her resolve unwavering.
Should I tell her that she has no vessel for it? Irene sighed, her heart aching with the thought of her getting disheartened over the news of her empty core. Irene felt a lump form in her throat; she cleared her throat, unable to fathom the sight of her bright and optimistic ambiance turning sullen. Instead, she tried to reassure the child.
"If it hurts you to learn magic, you don't need to force yourself," Irene said; she paused before continuing. "I don't want you to push yourself too hard, Erza. I'm already proud of you; you should know that."
Erza nodded before leaning close to Irene's body, feeling more of her warmth than before. You tell me that because you don't want to pressure me. I'll do my best to make you proud of me, Lady Irene. I'll prove to them that I'm not a useless child. Erza said to herself, strengthening her resolve.
The next day
Erza's first magic class began as soon as she stepped through a shimmering magical portal that transported them into a secluded area in the woods. The air was crisp, and the trees around them seemed to hum with magical energy. Erza shivered slightly, both from the chill and the nervousness. However, her excitement quickly turned to anxiety as she noticed Minerva standing next to a tall, well-built man with white hair. His stern expression and commanding presence contrasted sharply with their previous instructor's demeanor. This was Jiemma, Minerva's father and their magic instructor for the next three days straight.
He wasted no time and instructed them on their first assignment after introducing himself. "Form a basic magic circle and channel your aura into it," he instructed, his eyes scanning the students with a critical gaze.
"Show me your prowess, and I'll grade you accordingly." He added as he sat and watched them prepare everything.
Erza's heart pounded in her chest as she tried to recall everything she had read the night before. Her classmates, already well-versed in magic, began forming their circles with ease. Bright, glowing symbols appeared on the ground as they channeled their auras seamlessly. In contrast, Erza struggled. She traced the lines of her magic circle carefully, but nothing happened. The symbols remained dull, refusing to hold their form. She tried again and again, but the results were the same.
What's going on? Erza asked herself, seeing everyone almost done with their assignment within minutes. She had read the books thoroughly last night, so what's stopping her from forming a magic circle? She looked around and saw Minerva's bright purple magic circle. How can't I do it? She asked herself, feeling a cold sweat forming on her forehead.
"Concentrate!" Jiemma barked, his impatience evident. "You're not putting in enough effort. Focus your energy!" he yelled at her, despite seeing her core.
Erza's face flushed with frustration. Her classmates cast disdainful glances her way, but none offered help, as it could result in extreme demerits from Jiemma. She felt useless for once at the sight of her repeated failures.
Erza lays in bed pretending to sleep, waiting until Irene had checked on her and returned to her quarters. Once she was sure Irene wouldn't come back, she quietly slipped out of bed and retrieved a magic book she had received from Simon. He is willing to help her but can't since it is strictly forbidden.
"If Simon was able to use magic because of this, maybe I can too," Erza cheered herself, not wanting to look pathetic again.
The book was old and worn, its pages filled with intricate diagrams and complex explanations of aura manipulation and magic circles. Erza's eyes skimmed over the unfamiliar symbols and dense text. She read each passage carefully, studying the instructions and visualizing the steps in her mind. The hours ticked by as Erza practiced in the dim light of her bedside lamp. She traced the patterns of the magic circles with her finger, then attempted to replicate them on the floor. Her first few attempts were the same: an utter failure. She adjusted her technique, focused her mind, and tried again but faced with the same issue. She facepalmed as her frustrations gnawed her heart.
"Trying hard, aren't you?" Minerva sneered. "Doesn't matter. You'll never be as good as the rest of us."
"Maybe she's right," she told herself as she closed the book.
On the third day of magic class
Irene walked Erza to the academy gates as usual. Despite her weariness from the previous night's practice, Erza was determined to continue trying to learn magic. She clung to Irene's hand. I can't fail this time. It's our last day in the magic class before meeting them again next week, I haven't been able to get any credit for any assignment. I don't want to disappoint Lady Irene again, she thought to herself.
"Is something bothering you?" Irene asked as she paused upon reaching the gates.
"No, Lady Irene! I'm doing fine in my magic class." She lied, fidgeting her trembling fingers.
Irene hugged her tightly, feeling a pang of guilt for not being able to tell her about her condition. She doesn't want to give the child with false hopes, but seeing her futile attempts breaks her heart.
"Remember to not push yourself too hard, okay? You're already doing well."
"Yes, Lady Irene." Erza returned the hug, feeling reassured.
The magic class resumed with the same intensity as before. Jiemma's strict demeanor hadn't softened, and Erza felt the pressure mounting as she tried to keep up with her classmates. She was still behind, struggling to produce any magic circles. As the hours passed by and the day had ended, Erza felt utterly defeated. She wanted to run away, to hide from the humiliation and frustration.
After the class ended, Erza was shocked to learn about an unspoken rule among the students. The student with the lowest score in the class was always summoned to the magic instructor's office. Her heart sank as she received her scores, all marked with zeros.
With dread settling in, she made her way to Jiemma's office. The other students averted their eyes, knowing what was about to happen. When she entered, Jiemma was waiting, his stern expression unyielding.
"Kneel," he commanded, his voice devoid of warmth.
Erza obeyed, her knees hitting the cold, hard floor. She felt her heart pounding in her chest as she stared up at Jiemma, who seemed to tower over her like a menacing giant.
"I heard you had a misunderstanding with my daughter," Jiemma began, pacing slowly.
"No, master, she-"
"Poor manners. Did the sage not tell you to talk back when the elders are talking?" He held up a whip, its dark surface shimmering with an eerie glow.
Erza's eyes widened in fear. Surely, it was no ordinary whip. It was a magic whip; Jiemma brandished the whip, hitting her back. She could feel the burning sensation as if her skin was torn apart, but she couldn't see any trace of such abuse. She yelped in pain, biting her lip as it inflicted pain twice as much as a normal whip.
"The students here understand that those who fail to learn and perform are punished for their poor performance."
Erza braced herself once more, clenching her fists and squeezing her eyes shut as she heard him raise the whip again. The second strike landed on her legs, and she bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. The pain was excruciating, searing through her body.
"This is to remind you," Jiemma said coldly, "that excellence is expected. Mediocrity will not be tolerated."
The whip came down again and again. Each strike sent waves of agony through her small frame. Tears streamed down her face, but she refused to let out a single sound as he threatened to make it even more painful.
"Do not report this incident to the Scarlet Moon. Instead, you will improve, or this will become a regular occurrence. Do you understand?" He asked after hitting her many times.
Erza nodded weakly, her body trembling from the pain. "Yes, master," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Good. Now, leave."
Erza struggled to stand, her legs wobbling beneath her. She stumbled to her knees but later forced herself again and managed to walk out of the office. She limped forward; not even the soles of her feet were spared. She made her way to the academy gates, her vision blurred by tears.
When she reached the gates, she saw Heine waiting for her. Heine's eyes widened in concern as she saw Erza's pale face and trembling form. Erza smiled, thanking the heavens it was not Irene, or else she was dead.
"Erza, what happened?" Heine asked, seeing her pale visage.
"I... I'm exhausted, Heine. Where's Lady Irene? I wanna go home." She said as she felt Heine picked her up in her arms.
Irene stood quietly at the back of the group, watching as they mourned the loss of Duchess Heartfilia's unborn daughter. The news was so sudden that she had no chance of informing Erza about her absence in fetching her from school. The blonde-haired lady cried inconsolably as they buried the child in the holy temple. Irene's heart ached at the sight as the sight reflected into her a reflection of that recurring nightmare that she had. If she's bawling because she lost her child, then what did I lose mine? She thought to herself, remembering the dreadful sorrow flooding to her body upon such thought. Later, as they sat together in the carriage, Irene turned to Anna.
"Why would your sister cry for a child she never even had the chance to hold in her arms?" she asked softly.
"What do you mean?" Anna asked, looking in the window.
"I couldn't understand her grieving over a child she couldn't even have. I would never allow myself to be seen in such a vulnerable state." Irene said, still bewildered by these emotions.
"What would you feel if you ever lost Erza suddenly?" Anna asked, trying to let her understand the pain of losing a child.
"Why would I lose her?" Irene raised her voice, unable to fathom such a thought.
Her thoughts flashed back to the time she had tried to abandon Erza. She remembered the guilt and regret that had gnawed at her heart.
"I mean, what? How does that relate to that?"
"I'm asking because you seem to be close. If ever a similar state happens, it's similar to that feeling."
When the house was quiet, and everyone had retired to their rooms, Erza gathered all her magic books and spread them out on the floor of her room. She tried to study, to absorb the knowledge and techniques. She attempted to draw a magic circle, but the lines glowed faintly before fizzling out. She grunted, her body ached from the day's punishment. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled with the spells. She couldn't use magic, and the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt utterly helpless and incapable, her confidence shattered. The thought of disappointing Irene, who had done so much for her, was unbearable.
Driven by desperation, Erza's trembling hands uncorked the magic potion she had stolen from Juliet's potion room. She took a hesitant sip as the liquid burned, and it went down through her throat. She hoped this would be the solution, the key to unlocking her magical potential. Returning her attention to the wooden sword again, she picked it up and manifested her aura.
But nothing happened. "NO!" she cried in disbelief.
Her body felt no different, and the wooden sword remained unchanged. Erza's frustration boiled over, and she threw the sword to the ground, collapsing in a heap of tears and despair.
Irene was on her way to her quarters when she heard the clatter of the wooden sword hitting the floor; Irene's heart seized with fear as she rushed to Erza's room. She rushed to Erza's room, finding the child collapsed on the floor. Erza's body shook with sobs, and tears streamed down her face as she looked up at Irene with a pained expression.
"Lady Irene, please forgive me," Erza cried, her voice choked with despair. "I can't wield any magic."
Irene's heart broke at the sight. She dropped to her knees, pulling Erza into her arms. As she held the trembling child, she noticed strange marks on Erza's skin, her face flushed with fever. Irene's concern deepened when she touched Erza's forehead and felt the heat radiating from her.
"Erza, what happened?" Irene asked.
She scanned the room, and her eyes fell on a vial in the corner. Anger surged within her. What had the academy done to drive Erza to such a state of desperation? Before she could voice her thoughts, Erza froze, feeling the blood speckling her lips. Panic gripped Irene as she saw Erza's nosebleed.
"Urgh, L-lady Irene. It hurts..." she cried as she began clutching her chest.
The strange faint marks appeared one by one. Irene gently used her magic to detect any possible ailments in Erza. Her eyes widen, sensing traces of other magic lingering on Erza's body aside from the potion itself.
"I-I'm sorry. Please don't scold Juliet; I stole the p-potion because I thought I'd be able to use magic. I just wanted to be strong, like you. I-I didn't want to disappoint you." She cried as she tightened her grasp on Irene's clothes as the pain washed over her body. Irene was too stunned to speak; no words escaped her lips as the child pleaded before her. She fainted in her arms, making Irene tremble in anger.
"What would you feel if you ever lost Erza suddenly?"
"How dare they?!" she asked, her voice breaking with a hint of indignation.
A/N: It may take a while before I update the next chapter. But please do leave some reviews, it does motivate me to write. Thank you, and see you soon.