A note from Coffeepen3
I thought I should take a break, but couldn't hold myself back from writing.
Been feeling a little better today.
***********************
PREVIOUSLY-
"Only those in the 'Order of Lunatics' have it."
"F*ck! We can't handle five, now four more ca in!"
"As if Duskrane wasn't enough himself!"
"What can we expect from the kin of that psychopath!"
While the first years were filled with curiosity, caution and frustration rose among the senior students. So clutched their heads, so cursed their luck and so started devising plans.
*-*-*-*-*-
The students were now familiarized with their 'systems.'
Headmaster Thalorin stood tall at the center of the raised podium, his athyst robes catching threads of morning light as he gazed over the sea of young faces before him. Despite the weight of the mont, there was a faint, knowing smirk tugging at his lips.
"The main event starts now," he murmured, almost to himself.
Then, in a clearer voice that echoed through the high-vaulted assembly hall, he declared, "We will now begin with the class selection."
A hush fell over the room, broken only by the occasional anxious whisper between classmates.
RUMBLE.
The wooden floor of the stage groaned and shifted. From its centre, a brilliant fountain of white marble surged upward, as if breathing to life after centuries of slumber. Silver veins ran along its surface, glowing faintly, pulsing with ancient magic. The basin shimred with pristine water, and the soft sound of trickling filled the silence.
It was beautiful—otherworldly. But for those who knew, it was far more than a decorative relic.
The Class Fountain.
A relic as old as the Academy itself. Though its origins were lost to ti, the Fountain had long been a cornerstone of the Academy's tradition. Every student granted a standard academy-forged system would approach it on this day—the mont they received their first class.
Those blessed by divine favour or chosen by external patrons had their classes preordained by their systems. But for the majority, the Fountain offered a different kind of destiny.
Students craned their necks.
"Is that the real thing?" one girl whispered behind Leon.
"You think they'd fake the Class Fountain?" hissed her friend.
Leon didn't speak. He just stared—wide-eyed—as the light shimred off the flowing water. It was beautiful, yes, but it carried weight. The kind that made your spine straighten without being told.
"Step forward when your na is called," Thalorin said. "The fountain will do the rest."
Soone near the front raised a shaky hand. "Um—sir, what do we do exactly?"
Thalorin smiled, but didn't answer right away. He tapped the side of the fountain with his cane. "You reach in. It offers a coin. You take it."
"That's it?"
"More or less. Then... well, you'll see."
The first na was called. A boy nad Mikal. He walked stiffly to the fountain, every eye on him. Slowly, he knelt and reached into the water.
A heartbeat passed.
Then the coin surfaced—round, gleaming, hovering just above his fingers. Gasps rose as golden threads of light spiralled upward, wrapping around him like smoke caught in sunlight.
The coin burst into a swirl of radiant sparks—and in the air beside Mikal, a translucent window blinked into view.
[Class Assigned: Beginner Alchemist]
He stared at it like it might vanish.
"Back in line," Thalorin said casually, already calling the next na.
Leon swallowed hard.
"Do you think we need to go there?" Raphael tapped his shoulder.
Sigmund looked at his 'System Window' intently,
-------[ ⟪ PRIMORDIAL SYSTEM ⟫]--------
─────────────── ◆ ───────────────
[Na]: Sigmund Ferros
[Race]: Human
[Class]: ▒▒▒▒▒▒
[Health]: 100%
[Mana]: 480 / 480
[Strength]: 28
[Agility]: 19
[Endurance]: 20
[Intelligence]: 26
─────────────── ◆ ───────────────
[System Modules Unlocked]
– ▣ [TITLES]
– ▣ [SKILL TREE]
– ▣ [INBOX]
– ▣ [QUEST]
─────────────── ◆ ───────────────
Duration Remaining: 2 Years
⚠ Note: This system is not recognized by Imperial Standard Protocols. Classification: EXOGENOUS
-------[ ⟪⨉⟫]--------
His gaze lingered on a single sentence.
'[Class]: ▒▒▒▒▒▒'
He tried to smudge the mark with his thumb but the interface remained unchanged.
Theo nudged him, pointing to the sa.
"Should we ask Vayren?"
Sig's eyes lit up,
"Good idea Theo," he looked around for Vincent but he was nowhere in sight,
"Has he left us hanging again?"
Raphael remained quiet, his eyes shifted between the students at the fountain and his system window.
"Sir?"
He raised his hand,
Thalorin rubbed his temples,
"Speak."
Raphael glanced at his screen once more,
'Hope this works,' he thought to himself.
"May I use the 'Class Fountain', Sir?" his polite behaviour stroked a smile on Thalorin's wrinkled face.
"Yes, you may." He spoke calmy
Raphael gulped, fingers twitching against each other. Reluctantly, he strode towards the fountain.
As Raphael stepped forward, a hush fell over the crowd. Then, whispers began,
"What's the point?"
"That heretic thinks he can change his fate?"
"A waste of ti."
Ignoring the murmurs, Raphael plunged his hand into the cold water. A bronze coin rested between his fingers, but before he could pull it out-
FLASH!
A blinding purple light erupted from the fountain, forcing the onlookers to shield their eyes. When the glow faded, Raphael's system window flickered to life.
[SYSTEM UPDATED!]
[UPDATES APPLIED!]
[CLASS CHANGED!]
[▒▒▒▒▒▒ ⨠ DICAL STUDENT]
Raphael stared. Breath caught in his throat.
'This was it?'
His mouth exploded with taste of iron as he sank his teeth into his lower lip, drawing just enough pain to stay grounded.
'Not a warrior, not a mage. Not a legendary figure of history. A doctor?'
Laughter rippled through the crowd. Soone scoffed,
"Might as well be a servant."
A girl hissed,
"To think Tigranclaw's heir is a quack!"
"This is what you get for being a heretic!" another one whispered.
His fingers tightened around the translucent screen. He had braced for disappointnt, but this... this felt like a cruel joke.
Raphael looked towards his friends; the look eyes changed from misery to determination.
'Self-pity won't change my reality. But effort will.'
Raphael took a deep breath, showing his emotions aside.
'If this is the hand I have been dealt... then I will find a way to play it.'
Head high, he descended the stairs- not defeated but determined.
Seeing Raphael, Leon placed a hand on his shoulder.
"It's okay."
Raphael forced a weak smile,
"Hm."
Theo clasped his hand,
"Don't worry, young master. You will beco the best doctor on the continent!" he said, voice full of encouragent.
"... At the very least, you will earn a living." Sig added, trying to sound reassuring.
"Haha, thanks guys."
Leon stepped onto the stage next, looking down at the fountain. He plunged his hand into the water, fingers brushing against the cold tal. The mont he pulled out a coin, his window flickered.
[SYSTEM UPDATED!]
[UPDATES APPLIED]
[CLASS CHANGED!]
[▒▒▒▒▒▒ ⨠ APPRENTICE BLACKSMITH]
Leon's breath hitched. His knuckles whitened around the coin.
'A craftsman? Not a knight—just a smith!'
SPLASH!
The coin hit the water with a sharp splash as he hurled it back into the fountain.
"Let choose again!" he snapped, eyes locking onto the headmaster.
He reached toward the fountain again—but just before his fingers could brush the surface—
GRAB.
A firm hand clamped around his wrist.
Leon looked up to see Garran, Head of Knight Training, staring down at him with half-lidded eyes.
"Rules are rules, lad," Garran said, voice slow and gravel-edged. "Accept your fate. Your journey's only just begun."
Leon yanked his hand back, jaw tight. With a frustrated click of his tongue, he turned and strode away, boots echoing on the polished floor.
Behind him, the hall buzzed to life—low murmurs spreading like wildfire through the student crowd.
Whispers turned to snickers.
"From noble steel to hamr and nails..." soone muttered.
"A Leonhart with soot on his face—imagine that," another chuckled.
"He'll be fixing door hinges before the year's done."
Laughter bubbled in pockets of the crowd—quiet, but sharp enough to sting.
Leon stopped in his tracks.
He turned slowly; his expression unreadable—until the corner of his mouth twitched. Not a smile. Sothing colder.
Without a word, he reached into his coat and pulled out a worn, brown-leathered pocket diary. The kind that had seen ink, fire, and maybe blood.
He flipped it open to a blank page, pen already in hand.
"Say it again," he said, voice calm, cutting. "Out loud, this ti."
The hall hushed.
"Give your nas," he added, ink touching parchnt. "Since you're all so confident, I'd like to keep track of who I'll be fixing by year's end."
Silence.
He snapped the diary shut, turned, and walked off without looking back.
This ti, no one whispered.
Theo was next. He hesitated, stealing a glance at Raphael before dipping his hand in the water. His coin resurfaced and his window flickered to life.
[SYSTEM UPDATED!]
[UPDATES APPLIED]
[CLASS CHANGED!]
[▒▒▒▒▒▒ ⨠ NOVICE CULINARIAN]
The system window flickered into life, and the murmurs began almost imdiately.
"Hah, a Novice Culinarian?" ca a mocking voice from the crowd.
"He's going to cook?" another voice sneered, barely holding back laughter.
Theo's face flushed bright red. His fingers tightened around the coin, and he quickly shoved it back into his pocket as if to hide the evidence. His eyes lowered to the floor, avoiding the stares of his classmates. He could already feel the heat of their ridicule burning into his skin.
But instead of lashing out, he remained still, biting his lower lip in frustration. His hands shook slightly as he turned away, his shoulders hunched in on themselves, trying to make himself as small as possible.
"I-I'll... prove them wrong..." he whispered to himself under his breath, the words barely audible, but the determination behind them was just enough to keep him from fully breaking.
Theo took a slow step back, his eyes still downcast. He refused to et anyone's gaze.
"Theo," Raphael patted his shoulder—no response. "Theobald!"
Theo looked up, his lip quivering as words struggled to escape his throat. "I am sorry, young master... I... I am of no use to you."
Without warning, Raphael pulled him into a hug. "What are you saying, you fool?" he chuckled, giving Leon and Sig a nod. They joined in, surrounding him with warmth.
"Aren't you our group's cook?" Raphael asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Yeah! You can make us delicious als!" Leon added enthusiastically.
Sig, who had been quiet up until now, stared at Theo for a long mont. He then gave a small, almost unreadable smile. "At least we won't go hungry," he mumbled.
Theo's lips trembled as a laugh escaped him, barely more than a whisper at first. "Hah," then a full laugh, "Haha! Thank you all for encouraging ," he wiped his teary eyes. "I promise to make sure you never sleep hungry!"
Raphael and Leon's expressions turned more playful as they glanced at Sig. "Well, now, Sig, we only have one ray of hope," Leon said with a snicker, winking at Sig.
Sig gave them a flat look. "What are you expecting? I might've caught your terrible luck," he grumbled.
Raphael laughed. "Yes, yes, but hope is a really—"
"Cruel bitc—" Sig interrupted, his tone dry and unamused.
"Language!" Theo quickly clasped his hand over Sig's mouth before he could finish.
Sigmund simply nodded, still a little lost in thought. He glanced over at the fountain, his usual indie mood settling back in. It was clear that he wasn't one for sentintality, but perhaps there was a hint of curiosity about how his own fate would unfold next.
The crowd had settled down again, and the next student stepped up. The tension in the air was palpable, the whispers quieted, and all eyes turned to Sig.
"Sigmund Ferros," Headmaster Thalorin called, his voice cutting through the lingering murmurs.
Sig stood there for a mont, his arms crossed, his usual air of indifference in place. His gaze shifted to the fountain—this ti, his expression unreadable. He approached the podium slowly, as if the whole ceremony were a mild inconvenience.
Without any hesitation, he dipped his hand into the water, the cool surface sending a slight shiver up his arm. The coin rose almost imdiately, catching the light as it danced in the water, drawing everyone's gaze.
[SYSTEM UPDATED!]
[UPDATES APPLIED]
[CLASS CHANGED!]
[▒▒▒▒▒▒ ⨠ THREADBOUND NOVICE]
The mont the class na appeared, the system window flickered briefly and then settled. Sig's lips twitched into a barely-there smirk. His class was anything but what anyone expected—least of all him.
The crowd went silent, and then ca the scattered murmurs. The whispers began again, but there was no mocking this ti, only curiosity.
"Threadbound?" soone whispered.
"Like... a weaver?" another voice wondered.
Sig glanced over his shoulder at his friends, who were all giving him varying looks of surprise. Raphael raised an eyebrow, as if he didn't quite know whether to be impressed or confused. Leon, on the other hand, chuckled.
"Well, looks like we're all going to be fed and have so sweet-looking clothes," Leon said with a wink.
Sig just rolled his eyes, brushing off their teasing. "Threadbound," he muttered to himself, as if testing the na. He had no idea what it really ant, but he wasn't about to let the class define him. Not yet.
"That's not bad," Sig said, his voice quieter now but still carrying the sa rebellious edge. "Guess we'll see how far this thread can stretch."
Leon chuckled, clapping Sig on the back. "Now that's the spirit. You can weave us out of any situation!"
Theo let out a soft laugh, wiping away the last of his tears. He still looked down at the fountain, a little uncertain, but the weight of his embarrassnt was starting to fade, replaced with sothing softer.
"Looks like we're all stuck with our fates for now," Raphael said, his voice lighter than before. "But hey, we've got each other. We'll make it work."
Sig nodded, though he wasn't sure what "making it work" would look like just yet. All he knew was that this was just the beginning.
The headmaster cleared his throat. "Now that everyone's class has been assigned, I expect great things from all of you. This is where your journey begins, and your paths may lead you to places you never imagined."
Sig's eyes flickered over to the fountain one last ti. He wasn't sure what the future held, but he had no intention of being defined by a simple title. Not when there were threads yet to be pulled.
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