It shouldn't have been a surprise that this was a service the hospital provided. After all, many from the Guild, Academy, or the Army could be sent here in various conditions, in various states of dress. It just never crossed her mind. Vella was lucky she was recovered with her coin pouch, and could pay for a set of practical, functioning clothes to be delivered.

Most of Vella's clothes, her belongings, were in her buried luggage, she felt that fact keenly. But it would be impossible to attempt a retrieval and arrive at the Institution on time. The sun had moved quite a ways west and she only had a few hours left before they close their gates.

From what the nurse and the receptionist at the foyer told her, this hospital was situated in the middle of the Martial Arts Academy, the Institution of Magic, the Guild, and the Imperial Castle. The four formed somewhat of a square. Which meant at least she didn't need to go far to reach her destination.

With a lock on the tall, towering structure with a circular wall around it, she picked a straight a path as possible towards her goal. She trod on an adequately uniform stone path passing by stretches of immaculately managed grass and a few steep-roofed buildings. Shops occupied the lower floors so the upper floors must be for residency of their owners.

Aromas of food had her stomach throw a tantrum, reminding her she hadn't had anything substantial to eat the entire day. Swivelling her head to track the scent, Vella found her destination was through a street of vendors and merchants. Those that attracted her attention had one or two empty stools and tables, as if inviting her to fill in the final spots.

She really should get to the Institution first, then worry about food later. But the food was right there, and she had the coin. A quick meal and she could be off. There was certainly enough daylight left and she was thankful for the higher number of hours this world had in a day.

She'd gone through so much, even almost dying again. She deserved a treat.

It was probably by the will of the gods that she was able to march through the street. The enticing scent lingered at the edges of her sense of smell even as she reached the end. The path met another in a 'T' shape, and beyond that, the gates of the Institution.

She was about to cross the road when a fierce galloping sped past her, almost slamming into her as it turned the corner to the street she came from.

“Move!” the rider shouted, way after he had already passed her. Fat load of help that would do.

Vella noticed an elaborate crest on the rider's cape as it billowed behind him, marking his importance as part of the 'one percent' of the city.

As much as she despised the well-to-dos and anyone with natural talent, she knew that it came from a very bitter place of jealousy. Not that she would ever admit that. There were quite a lot of stereotypes and preconceived slights for her to fall back on should anyone questioned why she hated them. For one, they do not care at all about anyone but themselves, as evidently shown by the rider.

She huffed and continued her way. She was so close. If she could start learning magic, she would be able to set herself up for success in this life. Soon she'd approach the 'one percent' and their arms would be open, but first, she needed to approach the very much closed gates of the Institution.

“Halt,” a guard intoned, boredom evident in his tone and seeping into his body language. All the gleam in his armour couldn't hide his slacked posture, “The Institution of Magic is unavailable to the general populace, please state your business.”

The guard had a curious habit of speaking directly in front of him, his eyes never wavered from staring straight ahead. Vella had to wonder if he had seen her at all, if he was even talking to her and not to someone else behind her.

His partner guard piped up from the adjacent side of the gate, “That means that this place is off limits, closed. You have to have a good reason to be allowed in.”

This guard found it fitting to actually look at her as she spoke, but the look was one of worry and stared intensely at her. Vella realised it was probably because of the scar that ran from her forehead, past her eye, and down her cheek. She didn't think much of it when Emblonx first mentioned it, but if there was something Vella disliked about her scar, it would be the attention it brought to her.

Hungry, and peeved by the male guard's attitude, Vella had to hold tightly to her emotional reigns. She reminded herself of her physical age and reasoned that the female guard probably thought the vocabulary and expressions used were too advanced for a seven year old.

“I am a new student of the Institution. Allow me through,” Vella demanded.

“Name?” the bored guard droned, nonplussed.

“Vella Sharp,” came the reply.

The guard who actually seem to be doing her duty gave her a disbelieving look, to which Vella found quite condescending.

“Are you sure you're not in trouble? Perhaps someone is forcing you into this?” asked the female guard.

“Look, I'm not some snot-nosed kid pulling a prank here. I'm genuinely-”

“Consult the list,” the bored guard intoned, eyes still stubbornly fixed dead ahead.

“But-” the other guard started.

“Consult the list,” the bored guard repeated in the same monotonous fashion, if perhaps a little louder.

After a hesitant, but brief search on a small piece of parchment, the other guard confirmed Vella's position in the roster. For all his stale professionalism, Vella actually appreciated the fact that the bored guard still acted according to the book whether if she was an elderly master mage, or a seven year old girl who no parent in their right mind would let wondering around alone.

The bored guard announced for her to be let through, and the gate opened, the two guards stepping aside.

It wasn't quite her habit to be polite, but she did mutter a 'thank you' to the guards. More accurately, to the bored guard than the doubter.

She reached the tower in the centre, noting that it wasn't quite circular and more hexagonal shape. Inside was a man busy reading a scroll but quite easily identified as the appointed receptionist.

She cleared her throat.

The man jerked and looked up, having not even heard her arrival. It was hard to discern his features as he had a cowl over his head. Vella noticed the Institution's symbol, a simple hexagon with a crystal in the middle. It's was positioned on the sides of the hood.

The man drew back the hood, revealing a pale youngish face.

“Oh for fu- Who let you in here?” the receptionist demanded. He got up from his seat and a sparkle caught Vella's eye. On his neck hung a simple leather strap pendant. The centre piece was a crystal piece similar to the Institution's crest, about the size of a pinkie. It was strangely similar to glass but hot, white-blue flame burning inside.

“The guard who saw fit to let a future student in,” Vella snarked. She had already wasted enough time at the gates, she was definitely not in the mood for another round of authentication again.

The man scoffed, and to that Vella responded with, “I'm Vella Sharp, check your records for my payment or whatever. Just hurry up.”

She didn't want to deal with another proving, or broach the pointless topic of her scars, but she wanted in the Institution. The only thing pushing her forward was that this was likely the last insufferable interaction with self-important adults, then she will get what she wanted.

“Vella?” the man surprisingly seemed to recognise her name. After mimicking the actions of the disbelieving guard at the gates he looked up, “Well, pardon me for being a little sceptical. Your letter had came off a little more mature than your appearance would suggest. Said letter also mentioned something... peculiar about your magic.”

Reading the question from where the man trailed off, Vella unceremoniously summoned her Yunare in her hands, even commanding it to jump off, run a circle around her and the man in a figure of eight before jumping back into her arms.

“Ah, a Bloodline Quirk. Yes, quite fascinating. Your violet eyes might be the indicator, but you'll find that we of the Institution value solid proof. But I digress. My apologies for the initial mistrust. We can't just allow anyone in you know? Now, if you'll follow me.”

Vella was surprised he changed his tune so quickly. Perhaps it was her advance payment that earned her a favour with the Institution? Or did they favour those who were 'special'?

Vella hated monetary favouritism, but the one thing she hated more was natural talent. She wasn't quite sure what to think of her own inborn 'talent', only that she'd prove herself here by only using magic like everyone else and not her summons.

The man lead Vella down a corridor that seemed to run parallel to the tower's perimeter. Door leading to rooms would pass them on both sides, leaving the passage windowless, only kept alight with orbs on wall mounts that gave off a soft warm glow.

She followed the man up a flight of stairs and through an identical corridor to the one below before arriving at their destination.

“Your room, Miss Sharp,” the man gestured, opening the door to a simple but cosy lodging, “Inside, you'll find a cowl with the Institution's crest imprinted on it. Please ensure you have it on while within the premises so as to better identify you.”

“What about outside the Institution?” Vella inquried. That crest alone could give her enough status to avoid more pointless provings. She'd wear the apparels of the one percenters, if only until she was old enough to not be questioned by people everywhere she went. It would also help hide her features, especially her scar.

“You may wear them outside the premises, but do wear them with pride,” the man smiled, “You are given a spot in the most prestigious school. We not only teach Magic, but are the forefront of academic excellence!”

The man paused for a moment to clear his throat, “Novice lectures begin tomorrow and continue every second day. Lectures will begin at midday in the North Lecture Hall two floors above. Other than that, you can do with your free time what you will. We strongly recommend visiting our written resources in the library on the next floor up. We wish you a fruitful semester and steady success in your studies. Welcome to the Institution of Magic.”

With that, the man left without further fanfare nor a proper farewell nor even a proper introduction of his name. Not that Vella cared. She was finally here and would be able to learn actual magic!

Sure, the general disposition to magic was less than ideal, it was what almost got her killed. The Institution being so new also meant that the documentation on magic was also a recent thing. It didn't compare to the age old destructive applications of Chi. But if there was one thing Vella knew about magic and fantasies, it was that it had the greatest potential. A new field of study meant countless methods and effects to be invented and discovered, did it not?

An echoing complaint cut her thoughts short. It was time to feed the over-starved beast inside of her. She acquired the cowl neatly presented on the bed. Although it was quite a bit oversized, she put it on anyway.

She thought back to the food stalls she had vehemently ignored on her way here. Lost in thought, imagining the food she would dine on, her environment seemingly warped.

One minute she was daydreaming about food in her room, the next Vella suddenly found herself already seated at a table. A serving girl came over and asked, “What will it be little m-?”

“Anything,” Vella's stomach spoke for her.

Amusement and surprise was clear on the serving girl's face before she burst out laughing. With enough breath to speak again, she said, “I can't serve just 'anything'. My ma will have my head if I presented you a pebble to gnaw on!”

Taking back control of her higher functions, Vella amended her request, “Then, do you have some soup or stew? Some bread?”

“We have vegetable soup, bread, a variety of cheeses, and smoked Samled,” the girl said, her chest puffing up and posture a little straighter, “I personally recommend the Samled, it's a family recipe.”

Samled? If Vella remember correctly from the descriptions Lilyan's parents had reminisced, Samleds were a kind of seafood. Very similar to a fish, but with a protective outer spine and a dress-like tail. But Zlantic wasn't near the sea.

“I suppose your family are from Talzc then?” Vella inquired, to which the serving girl nodded.

“My, aren't you a knowledgeable little girl? Are you perhaps from one of the Five Great Noble Families?”

“'M not a noble,” Vella shook her head absent-mindedly.

As tempting as it was to try out seafood from another world, Vella knew the costly expenses of imported goods. It seemed people of the city enjoyed a rather elevated standard of living if imported seafood could be dished out from a road-side stall.

“I'll have the vegetable soup,” Vella decided, forgoing the bread. If the standard of living was higher, then most other food items would be more expensive than what she was used to back home.

“Coming right up. That will be fourteen coppers.”

Vella momentarily froze as she reached for her pouch. A bowl of soup would have only costed eight copper where she was from, ten at most if the cook was desperate. The city really lived on a whole different level.

In descending order of value, she had a silver, a few iron pieces and a whole bunch of coppers, so it wasn't as if she couldn't pay the price. It was the continued upkeep of living expenses she had to worry about. Somehow she forgot to factor the increased prices into her calculations when she planned her enrolment and trip here.

Hesitantly, Vella paid the girl and was served a hot bowl of steaming soup soon after. She'll have to find some sort of work and hopefully there would be less need to prove herself to the locals. She didn't want to go through all the crap she had today just to go to where she had registered her name and had even paid in advance to get into. Her crested cowl better provide her with some form of recognisable status.

Hopefully with an entire institution here at the heart of the city, people's attitude with magic would be a lot less hostile than that of the farmer who left her for dead.

Or maybe she should actually consider Emblonx's offer? At least it seemed that the Guild didn't mind who they hire. She would give it further consideration when she had learnt some offensive and defensive magic.

Stomach satisfied and warmed up from her meal, she made her way back to the tower. Remembering what the Institution's receptionist said, she decided to do a bit of light reading at the library before bed. Although the sun had nearly set, there was probably enough of those glowing orbs in the tower for light.

A nondescript wooden door stood before her as she arrived on the supposed floor of the library. As she moved to open it, the door swung open and almost caved her nose in, knocking her back onto her bottom.

“Oh my! I'm so sorry!”

Gentle hands helped her up and even dusted her off. Then they went up to her face to check for bruises. Through the veil of fingers, Vella could see a pair of light hazel eyes searching her worryingly.

After an uncomfortable moment breaching Vella's personal space, the girl who bumped into her left her face alone and straightened up.

“I'm really sorry,” she apologised again brushing her dark brown locks from her face, “Are you lost? Do you need help...? Wait, you're a student here as well?”

“What gave that away?” Vella said while nursing her nose.

“Your eyes, silly! And also your cowl, same as mine!” the girl vibrated excitedly while presenting the aforementioned cloth.

Unused to such energy and lack of hostility, Vella took a moment before settled on a, “Right.”

“I can't believe there's someone younger than Sun attending this year! Oh wait, how old are you? You certainly look no older than seven, eight at the very most! Sun's eight and I thought that was a ridiculous age to be let in! You two must have some serious talent! Oh! I'm Thalva by the way! Nine in a month's time. And who are you? And how did you get that sc-”

Vella held up a hand to stall any more bombardment of verbal diarrhoea, “I'm Vella, seven years old, and please, I'd like to get some reading done before the night is over.”

Vella side stepped Thalva and continued on her way into the library. Thalva didn't seem the least bit perturbed, and followed her in talking all the while.

Vella turned around, a vein almost popping on her head, “Thalva, please, I'd like to do some reading, which means I'll need you to be quiet as to not disturb me. Understand?”

Thalva flinched, and her expression turned to one of hurt, but just momentarily before brightening up again with a chuckle, “Oh, um right. I'm sorry. Again. I guess I am rather excitable and I don't have anyone else to talk to. Um. Good night, I suppose.”

Thalva turned around and opened the door, this time with a lot more caution, almost afraid of how to act in front of Vella.

“Wait,” Vella called out with a sigh. Thalva turned around with a raised eyebrow, a smile not quite touching her eyes.

“Y-yes?”

“If... If you like, we could talk tomorrow. After class,” Vella said, feeling as if she owed Thalva at least a token effort to connect with her, “I'm sorry, I just had a long and incredibly stressful day. I wanted some peace and quiet, so... I didn't mean to snap at you.”

Thalva's smile finally reached her eyes and she went for a hug, which Vella begrudgingly accepted without too much resistance.

“Thanks, Vella. You're a good kid,” Thalva praised, patting Vella on the head.

“Okay, that's where I draw the line,” Vella swatted Thalva's hand away to which Thalva laughed.

They said their farewells and Vella was left in peace.

She had the librarian recommend her some beginner material which took a few minutes to find, and sat down to read. She was lucky Lilyan's parents were educated and well off enough to teach her her letters. Coming from a world where literacy was the minimal standard, she thought it prudent to learn the local literature as well.

She had no problems starting on her first book, much to the librarian's delight. She did, however, had problems staying awake.