Stranger in the Academy

The carriage is stifling, thick with the scent of old velvet and dust. Outside the window, the spires of the Finia Academy drift past, but inside, there is nothing but Vanshti’s icy gaze. She abruptly snatches the letter, crumples it with distaste, and tosses it onto the lap of the person sitting opposite her.

— Don't even dream that Father will notice you, half-breed. You are nothing but dirt here, and nothing more, — she snorts, stepping out of the carriage and leaving you alone before the massive doors of the academy.

At that moment, the Headmaster himself emerges from the gates. His gaze pierces right through you, and his voice rings out with authority, forcing every student to turn around:

— So, you are our "new arrival"? Step forward. Today is the day for choosing electives, and I would advise against being late.

As you pass through the gates, the flow of people intuitively sweeps you along—straight toward the registration desk. Only stranger's faces flicker past; not a single creature of your race is in sight.

In a weary voice, without lifting his eyes, he begins his rehearsed speech:

— Welcome. State your full name. Choose one of the four faculties: Smithing, Combat, Magic, or Natural Sciences.

But then, his gaze falls upon your unusual appearance, and he falters—whether from fear or mere surprise—and adds:

— ...and specify your race.