"... Wake up...!"

He thought that there might have been other words involved, as his uncovered head saw a flurry of movement in a hazy figure's lips, but he thought better of it.

"... Just a dream..."

He closed his eyes again.

"Wake up...! We'll be...-"

More words.

He pondered the strange force on his body. There was a tight grip on his arm, too.

And then he cried out.

His head hit the floor.

Unlike at home where his 'bed' was a pile of cloth and furs, consisting of no real mattress at all, this one was raised off the ground. It meant that the fall hurt.

Beds were just as primitive here. And dangerous.

However, dazed, he stared out dead-panned towards the half-victorious, half-impatient smile facing him.

"We'll be late," she said, grabbing at the snow-white fur.

He used all of his strength to shield the fur as if it were the Shroud of Turin. Such that no apostate would take claim over it, defiling it, he would defend it to his end.

And he did.

However, that forced his attention alert, and he struggled with pain in his head.

"... What... are you doing... so early...?"

"You have half an hour before class! Hurry up!"

"... So?"

"Did you want to be punished by Mr. Shields during training?"

"... Ugh, fine..."

Mathias sighed and sat up, still protectively clinging over a wide assortment of bed essentials in his hands. It seems like he was awoken more effectively than he thought.

"Seven out of ten," he rated his defence. "I need to be more proactive with the fur..."

There was a snort from across the room. Lisanna was already dressed, braided her hair, and was just sitting on the ruined desk's chair expectantly. The textbook was flipped over all the way to the center.

Mathias scratched his stomach mindlessly.

"... Huh... clothes... so much work..."

"Put something on already!"

"... Don't wanna."

"Are you a child?"

Technically not, but also technically not that far from it. If he said he was a late-bloomer, would that give him an excuse? Thoughts like that proved ineffective with his more considerate parents so he did not voice them here.

Still lazing about, he opted for the next best thing than doing nothing in the mornings - doing next-to-nothing. For some reason, there was a pail of water on top of Lisanna's desk. He stole some, purified it, and washed his face briskly, purified it once more, and let it coil around his arms.

"I'll never get used to that," Lisanna grumbled, shaking her head. "If you're ready, let's go then."

"... Why don't you just go ahead?"

"You'd sleep in and I'll get in trouble for your deviancy."

"'Deviancy?'" He quoted curiously, throwing on the uniform shirt tiredly.

Lisanna did not turn around, allowing herself a clear conscious and unshaken face, but did so when the sound of ruffling cotton stopped.

"Yes. If you don't hurry-"

"Hey! Mathias!"

Thomas called out to him in the halls. Walking forward, the door opened mechanically as a dead-eyed boy viewed a spirited one.

"Hey! You promised to deal with our room, didn't you!?"

"... Really?" He yawned.

Thomas grumbled, clicked his tongue, before pushing himself inside and running up to Mathias. "See? Look at this place! Now we still have time-"

"No, we don't have time," snorted Lisanna as she moved forward and crossed her arms. "And why are you coming into my room?"

"Uh, err... because it's his, too!" Thomas said, turning the other side and using the sleepy boy as a shield.

"Be that as it may, I do not want to be late nor be penalized because I am sharing a room with him.

Mathias yawned and rubbed the non-existent debris from his eyes. He already washed his face, after all. Except the gaze sharpened as he jolted forward. "No! That's mine!"

Lisanna, who was walking to her bed, looked curiously before seeing the discarded mass of fur, cloth, and pillow so close. "Calm down! I'll get my own!"

... This time he was finally awake.

After putting on their shoes, the four, with a silent Jebb walking in front, made their way to the Academy. It seemed that the others had already eaten so there was little stopping them from just going forward.

However, there was an awkward silence as Lisanna, strangely, opted to stay with Mathias who, unbeknownst to him, was being talked to by Thomas in hoarse whispers, as if scared of the one who walked behind the group.

"... I mean, hell! Just that room alone is messing up my ability to recover! Even Jebb, who had the good side - but half the strength - was fine this morning even though we did basically the same training!"

"..."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It's weird, isn't it? Whatever was in that room is toxic, I tell you, toxic! That's why at lunch, please - please! - come and deal with it! If I wasn't so sore, I would've ran outta there ten times. I only left four times last night!"

"..."

"Just imagine if this'll rub off on me and then I'll be known as the guy who smells like a blown-up alchemy lab?! The horror!"

"..."

It was a peaceful, tranquil walk towards the Academy. He acted without thinking and raised the hood from his cloak to block out the sun this morning too. However, as he was less aware of his surroundings, he did not pay attention to any one's potential reactions.

He just tried to stifle as many yawns as he could so he would seem like he was paying attention. He wasn't. But appearances were important.

Somehow or another, his body was guided to Scylla classroom. His semi-pert shoulders collapsed the moment he hit the desk.

Again, however, the dreaded morning light invaded his interlocked arms.

"... My legs are still shaking... Oh God, that was terrible... I'm not pissing off that teacher again." A girl said.

"I know. I wasn't even punished, but I'm exhausted! I worked too hard when I beat everyone! I should have just taken it easy!" Ayla said.

"Hey," Erik said tiredly, "it isn't over yet. We're going to have a show-down today! I made the arena matches so I can't be losing to you, now can I?"

"Ho...?! Is that so?! I'll take your challenge!" Ayla said cheerfully, inciting a laugh from the people nearby.

Erik, too, laughed and it was clear that it was an excuse to talk to the girls, but since he was handsome and clearly athletic, they allowed the attempt. Ayla seemed to be comfortable enough talking to him as if they knew each other before. Or they were just hyper-social. It couldn't be certain.

'... Morning people don't sleep enough,' he affirmed in his head. 'If they're sore from just that, headaches aside, it's... *yawn*.'

The tell-tale opening of a door, a uniform glance, and sudden silence marked Mr. Shields' entrance.

"We'll begin shortly," he said from the podium as Mathias looked up slightly from crossed arms. "I have roughly ascertained your basic abilities, but we'll be continuing the basic training for a month or so so as to ensure you have a solid foundation. From there on, we'll go into more specialized functions, with weekly foundational exercises."

There was a collective groan.

"Enough. It is imperative you possess enough ability for self-defence. Graduating any single student without the ability would tarnish our reputation. We'll also be reviewing the more foundational aspects of the textbook as it does not seem many have a solid grasp of it while keeping to the curriculum as much as is possible. As such, though this first week may appear easy to some, the subsequent lessons will grow significantly more challenging as time progresses."

Another groan. This was headed by the students who seemed to be struggling in theory.

"But first," he said irritably, silencing the whispers of complaints. "We'll be welcoming some of the third-year students who'll be acting as assistants to your class. Mr. Frae, Miss Quinal."

"Hello!" The boy was the first to speak as he entered into the room. He had tan skin, an aura of nobility around him, and his tied-back, glossy black hair seemed to stand out amongst the crowd. Though he seemed well-trained, his lithe figure suggested a different specialty than combat. "My name is Robert Frae and we'll be acting as evaluators, assistants, and mentors to all Scylla first-years during the combat exercises and training, alongside Miss Jenna."

The girl stepped forward, brushing her hair to the side as she elegantly curtsied. "I am Elise Quinal. I, too, will be assisting. If you have any issues, please feel free to talk to me. We'll also be coordinating matches between similarly skilled students between classes so do not feel affronted if we ask you to leave to join another group. Provided we cannot find an adequate matching in your own class, that is; though, from the reports, it seems that there are enough pairings to have a normal match-up."

'Elise, huh? Seems she's busy,' Mathias thought, just barely keeping his gaze above the wood.

He wasn't the only one who acted in such ways.

Robert continued, "there will also be some one-on-one training sessions available, at our discretion. If you think you're falling behind, even academically, we're available for a small hourly fee to help you. You're free to focus on Miss Jenna's lessons, but please don't forget that we're resources made available to help you get the most out of your time here."

'... It seems like the Academy is giving out a lot of jobs to students... maybe because of the tuition costs?'

Mr. Shields stepped forward. "And that is all. You'll get to know them more after tomorrow. Until then, we have a lot of material to go through."

"It's been a pleasure," Robert said.

"I look forward to working with you," Elise added, both taking the cue to leave.

The classroom chatter intensified for a moment, "... Isn't he cute?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind a tutor like that. Do you think he comes from a good family?"

"I don't know, but-"

'... That face... ugh,' it was distinctly masculine, even without the long-hair, making Mathias somewhat insecure.

"Isn't she the receptionist? She's hot! I wonder how much it would cost to get one-on-one with her," a boy whispered with a lewd smile only to receive:

"... She's way, way out of your league. And she's the top girl in combat - I wouldn't push it."

"Hmm, even so, if it's just a meeting-"

However, with a soundless glare, the classroom whispers ended. "Moving on. Miss Jessal, Miss Thatcher, do you remember the significance of categorization?"

"Uh, yeah..?"

"Then, please enlighten us."

He immediately latched onto a target who was disrupting his class with her muted chatter.

The basic lesson continued. Mathias thought it to be terribly dull so even he dozed off a few times. Thankfully, he was not called on for this particular lesson. And he did crane his head every now and again to see the surroundings. There was a strange inability to sleep deeply in that classroom.

Maybe if he had a fur.

Many were studiously taking notes, even if they seemed disinterested in the material; others struggled to keep up as they tried to copy Mr. Shield's entire speech, that which he wrote on the blackboard, or even what he quoted from the textbook.

It was sufficiently interesting to keep his attention for a few moments of personal summary and example, but the remainder was dull and monotonous.

Since the class effectively started much earlier, with no need to assemble into the auditorium like yesterday, they were allowed a break after two hours. While calling it a break, it lasted all of fifteen minutes.

And many were still hurriedly writing down notes from the last segments of his lecture.

Lisanna turned to him.

"Hey, did you even write anything down - at all?" Glancing at his unused stationery.

"..."

She shook his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open again.

"... What?"

"What was the point of even coming here?!" She whispered.

"... I was asking myself that all morning," he said with a yawn.

Lisanna tapped his desk irritably, and said, "you realize you're still wearing your hood, don't you?"

"Huh?" He panicked. He hurriedly took it off, loathing his own carelessness in ruining his impression and chancing 'punishment' from Mr. Shields. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I did. You ignored me!"

"... Really?"

"Yeah, I told you before once you put it on in broad daylight and then again once we went inside the school. You ignored me both times."

"... Oh. It's my fault then."

"Whose else would it be?!"

"... Don't know. Yours?"

"Don't even."

Mathias shrugged and stretched his back and arms vigorously.

Others were distracted with their own conversations so he did not really feel a need to hide his actions. However, he did see Erik and Ayla's approach after finishing their talk.

"Hey!" Ayla said energetically, sizing up Lisanna before grinning. "Me and Erik were talking, we should start class rankings in our sparing matches! Since neither of you two lost - like Erik," she said, sticking her tongue out. "Then it'll be fun, right? We start taking a portion of the bets and use it as a pot for the winner!"

"... Do what you'd like." Lisanna said disinterestedly.

"Ah, so cold!" Snickered Ayla. "I'll take that as a yes. It'll be a precondition to betting, so it'll be a nice incentive for someone to try to dethrone the great me, Ayla!"

Mathias yawned and she recoiled, seeming wounded.

"Hey! I'll have you know, I'm stronger than I look!"

"... Yeah, it's true," he said easily.

"Then respect my wonderful, amazing - super wonderfully amazing! - ideas!"

"... Too sleepy..."

"Ugh, water mages are no fun in the morning," she said, glancing at the two other bodies that struggled to rouse any interest or action in the morning class.

They, too, had their heads down. Granted, not all were like that. Many were conditioned to work adequately in the morning so they did not struggle as much, but those two - in their class - were a rarity at this point in their lives. There were other water mages in their class besides the three that were functioning rather well.

"Anyways," Erik interjected with a grin, "we're talking about using a portion for the winner, and another portion of all for the class so that we can build up funds!"

"And what purpose does that serve?" Lisanna asked pointedly, sighing at the dispersed interest of her seat-mate behind her.

Ayla stepped forward, shushing Erik. "We'll use take ten percent of the pot, rounded down, five for the winner and five for the class, and then once we have enough, we'll use it to have fun! Just imagine, renting out an entire house after a celebration - or whatever! And then we can get food, drinks, snacks, and all sorts of fun stuff!"

Erik nodded with a small grin, "all the guys agreed with me already!"

"Ugh, right. It was his idea, but still! Are you in? We already have Eldrich's and James' permission - and the other four, but they don't count as much - so as long as we have the original six, then it'll be fine! Our tournament, our rules!"

"... Which is conditional on there being betting in the first place, right?"

Erik and Ayla exchanged a glance and burst into laughter. "If the teachers don't care, it'll happen!"

"Yeah, no betting on yourself though! It defeats the purpose of the winner's pot."

"Well, I don't care. I don't plan on betting and I seriously doubt he does either."

Erik nodded knowingly, shifting his attention down towards Lisanna's chest a little too long while appearing lost in thought. Lisanna's face contorted dangerously, but he righted himself immediately - as if coming to the conclusion of a thought and not recognizing her shift in attitude. "It's true. He won't care. Let's go tell everyone!"

Erik and Ayla ran off to their respective groups and gathered them in the middle.

Though Lisanna felt curious about the sudden unification of the class, she stopped herself from joining in. She felt half-compelled to join because her name was brought up in the current ranking system, but rejected the idea once she saw Jasmine and Kira enter into the group.

"... If only that one wasn't there," she murmured darkly, sensing herself becoming more isolated by another once more. "... At least he doesn't care about it, does he?"

Mathias, all the while, was dreaming about Erin, his older sister, stealing his lynx-fur to use as a robe to steal the hearts of men and women alike, leaving him to lament his loss to his material possessions and prestige more emphatically than he ever had before.

For some reason, a girl with a near-identical face as his own seemed all the more potent in that pursuit than he could ever dream of. Such as it was, it was a nightmare; a reminder of the mortal struggles he would face when he awoke.