Two women clad in fur and leather, one in her twenties and the other in her teens, step through the academy gate and into a massive schoolyard. Amongst the hundreds of youths gathered for this day, their most unique appearance attracts quite a few looks of curiosity, fear, and even disgust.

“So that’s the so-called magic school.” Of all the human construction Nadia had seen in her life it was the second largest (the first was the city wall, and the second was the palace. All in all, she hadn’t seen much) not that she was impressed, quite the contrary; walls this thin were no protection against Warriors, much less monsters.

“Know your place, stinking beast!” Screamed someone not far from her. Pale skinned, the sixteen or so girl had her cheeks crimson with outrage, “Stinking beast, how dare you obstruct this countess’ path…”

Claiming one’s parent title was a great outrage. Doing it in a place where titles and privileges were abolished by king’s order was downright stupidity.

The young noble’s target was as Nadia had expected her very own mistress. Insults and scorn were lost on the thick-skinned barbarian woman whose only take on the situation was that the Hopeless were real. The scornful, weak, untalented idiot wasn’t worth her time.

Before the spiritualism revolution, the academy used to be a place where the sons and daughters without much prospect could freely mingle and learn a useful trade. Probably because it was almost free, nobles continued with the tradition to send their most incompetent offspring to the school; The Hopeless.

Despite the spiritualist importance in most aspects of society, there was still a strong bias toward Warriors as the true elites. To them, spiritualism was a lesser profession for Normals and Failures.

The student formed into ranks according to numbers drawn on the ground. According to her inscription paper, the two hinterlanders were the fifty-seven and fifty-eight.

As the (self-appointed) attendant and bodyguard she was, Nadia stepped up to assuage the situation, something she was ill-equipped for as a Warrior and barbarian. “Miss, um... I’m sorry to hear my... Lady? Um... Displeased you in any way. Please allow me to... um... make amend?”

No one expected the haphazardly polite words stringed together to help, but the moronic youth somehow took even more offense from them. Soon, the improvised mediator found herself the target of a myriad of poorly thought animal themed insults.

Bloodlust, aggression, killing intent are a few amongst the many words people used to call the Aura of violence Warriors naturally exudes, but by whatever its name, its effect was almost always the same.

The noble paled. To her credit, she managed to mumble something before resolutely looking away. “As long as you remember your place!”

Amusingly enough, Nadia’s rage hadn’t even been aimed at her, but at some other obnoxious, self-righteous people she just happened to remind her of; the elders (old farts) who’d exiled her mistress. Although... Can it still be called it exile when the one exiled eager to leave?

Nadia at the very least, thought so. The overturning of centuries of tradition and whatnots didn’t matter to her. Anyway, customs weren’t something worth starving over, and Varisa was the one who brought enough livestock to feed everyone and more.

Varisa beckoned her with a smile. “Hurry up, they’re about to start.”

“Yes, my lady!” Squeaked the young Warrior.

She got scolded for her trouble. “Stop with that! I’m no one’s lady. Call me by proper name.”

A warm feeling washed all over Nadia as she looked the smaller, younger woman in the eyes. “Yes, Varisa.”

Once cold and unfeeling, the current Varisa appeared no different from any other young woman. On the other hand, the council of elder were the same old-fashioned, change reviling idiots they’d always been. The rest of the tribe wasn’t much better and only ever stopped complaining when their mouths were full.

A nudge woke Nadia from her daydream. “Would you please listen?”

“Sorry…” She didn’t care about magic, but considering she volunteered the least she could do was listen.

“…all sorts of jobs.” Explained a bearded aged man standing on a podium in a spiritualism enhanced voice. “Don’t listen to those Warrior and their outdated bullshit.” He roared. “We are the kingdom’s lifeblood! Light on the street? Us! Clean water? Us! Paper, agriculture, forestry, workshops... Still us!”

A murmur of disapproval spread throughout most the crowd. The kingdom needed water and earth spiritualist above all things, industry privileged fire, entertainment light and dark. It didn’t matter to the crowd though, as far as they were concerned only two specialties had real prospect for greatness: the healers and enchanters.

“… there is no small job.” Announced the principal as if in denial. “Your tuition may feel like an absurd amount to pay back, but the country needs you. Work hard and it’ll provide!”

“Tuition? Pay back?” Nadia was unfamiliar with the first word, but the second was self-explanatory..

“We aren’t beholden to anyone, I paid ours upfront.” Since currency was still a new concept to her friend, she didn’t go into details.

“Good to know.” A lot of the speech had gone over her head, but she’d learned a few thing about magic... Well, spiritualism as they seemed into on calling it.

Men and women move in front of each file to call a range of numbers. “Fifty-one to eighty-four, you're with us.” Announced one such pair. The man was impressively tall man, his feature sharp with an unkempt grey beard. The woman was pretty, muscular and quite obviously a Warrior.

As they gathered in front of the duo, Nadia’ felt relieved to see that none of their group exuded that same air of contempt that girl earlier had for them. On another hand, a puny sickly boy looked at them like they’d killed his family. She confronted him, “Do you have something to say?! Come out with it, what’s your problem?”

“Shush, you two! Keep your sexism and racial prejudice for when I’m not around.” Shouted the man. “I’m Burke, a special guidance counselor and if you know what’s best for you then you’ll stay away from my office. Now, as I was saying, why don’t you do everyone a favor and shut the heck up.”

The woman chuckled and Varisa whispered, loud enough so the boy could hear. “Division and prejudice, don’t you feel at home already, dear Nadia?”

The boy scowled with a complex range of emotion before looking away vexedly. Maybe the boy’s issue wasn’t with their origin, but in consideration to his fragile appearance they felt it might be better to avoid him altogether.

“A-3, your classroom for this year and also the name for your class. You can access directly left from the main entryway like we just did or the from dormitories’ passageways. Speaking of which...” He beckoned the male student to follow with a half assed handwave. “Boys, with me, girls with her, let see us to your rooms.”

“Girls,” announced their guide formally, “follow me, please.” As soon as they were out of the sight though, she let out a tired sight. “I'm Tina, Warrior working security at your dorm. As for mister asshat; he isn’t half as bad as he makes himself sounds.” But then she concluded with a sarcastic smile, “Which admittedly is already quite terrible. I get him though, if we didn’t put this much pressure on our students, we’d lose half our students to infighting and pregnancies.”

Her smile felt even more genuine as she explained. “As far as I’m concerned, and as long as you’re careful then feel free to fuck whomever you want. Just abstain to kill each other over a boy, or girl. Make sure you don’t get yourself stuck with a passenger, because screamers aren’t welcome in my dorm, whatever their shape and form.”

The crude language caused some students to gasp in outrage, others to chuckle away as for the others. “If my tone or rules, make you want to quit... Go ahead, that’s less work for me.”

“What does she mean by screamers?” Asked one girl.

“It has to be babies, rights?” Proposed another.

“But, she said, of all shapes and forms.” The actual answer would escape them for a long time.

“Let's review the room assignment starting with this year worst offender: the filthy rich duo of Nadia and Varisa. Didn’t you two splurge yourselves silly? Look at that; two large bedrooms, a communal room, a kitchen and a personal bathroom!” She assumed a pleading look as she begged. “Won’t you switch with me? Pretty please! I won’t tell a soul.”

Up until few years ago, Varisa only knew of currency through her mother’s book, now she was, as Tina so familiarly put it, filthy rich. Although she had ways to make some herself, she loved making money and almost considered it a game.

To her classmates’ obvious display of jealousy, she answered. “Anyone can make this kind of pocket change if they apply only themselves a little.” It was distasteful, but in her book, it was better than being looked down upon.

Their room was one of four; two on the male side and two on the female side divided between the noble and commoner level. Usually, they’d host one child with their caretakers or guardians. No need to say that they’d never been rented by a no name, much less an hinterlander.

“Your keys, don’t lose them or it’ll cost you… Not that you’d care about a few more bucks, would you?” She clapped her hands bellowing “Let us continue with our tour.”

As they moved, the group grew increasingly skeptical of Tina. As a hired peacekeeper, what drove her to highlight the inequalities in such an obnoxious fashion?

The answer was at their last stop. It was a small room, one level below. It was barely larger than the smallest of their own room but crammed with four triple bunk beds and an equal number of triple lockers. A dormitory in the truest sense as there was barely enough space to stand, much less study.

Tina excused herself unconvincingly. “Sorry, my bad. I got stupidly excited and opened you a room meant for mere mortals.”

Whatever bitterness they’d had over closet size and the like suddenly dissipated and they revised their judgement over their guide who’d masterfully heightened their resentment before washing it away in one fell swoop.

Tina was an irregular existence in the academy, she was crude, overly improper and far too devoted to her basest instincts... but that’s also what made her so good at dealing with similarly hormone driven individual, like adolescent.

The next stop was the refectory, and it was an even bigger testament to the class divide with its three separate spaces. The noble floor, the common floor and finally, the restaurant.

The first was barred to commoner, the second was open to all, but eschewed by nobles... As for the last one, its access was even more limited by the virtue of its insanely high price.

“Meals are free. On schooldays, you’re required to eat breakfast and lunch.” Tina winked, “It’s freaking scrumptious, although the portion are a bit on the small side!” This last part was spoken as a Warrior though. “For supper, you can eat out, as long as you make it back before the last bell.”

“What about the last area.” Asked someone.

“Oh yeah, forgot you’re all rich. It’s a restaurant for people like you. Ask the staff later if you’re interested.” Although not much of an explanation, this was truly the extent of her knowledge.

Sitting next to the eatery was the student only shop. It ran on the simple but hard truth that convenience is often worth the expense.

“Last but not least, the weekend! From Freesdays on to Sunday, you’re free to leave school ground and sleeps out. The rules are the same as on any other days though, if you aren’t back by last bell, prepare to be locked.” She smiled cruelly. “If you aren’t back on time on Sunday, expect some trouble.” As with everything, there were exceptions, but this wasn’t Tina’s place to expose them.

“Will we be free after orientation?” Asked Varisa. She’d made appointments with the assumption it’d be the case.

The Warrior responded in a falsely exasperated tone. “I’m sure that you’re asking the question knowing the answer. Just make sure to be back on time!” She pointed at the last building and declared derisively “Oh right. That thing’s the library.; It’s full the nerdy stuff you like so much.”

The girl waited for further explanation, but she was visibly done with the subject. “Let us go back to your classroom, I’m sure your teacher is anxious to make your acquaintance… or not. Lead the way girls, because I’m not.”

In A-3, A stood for first floor and three for the third classroom from the left, and so, they quickly found their way back. By the door stood, waiting for them was another tall man with unkempt beard. At least with this one, you could tell the difference from the tan.

“Line up. I want you to come one at a time, pick one slip of paper and sit at the corresponding table.” He showed one, and it had two numbers on it, one for the rank, and one for the row. “We will keep this line up until I get to know you better.” His voice was strangely ageless but whether it was to appear older or younger, they couldn’t tell.

Rather than voices, Nadia had beards on her mind, every time she saw a new one, she felt like jerking on it. Maybe because rim born always made sure time to keep them shorts due to the dangers involved.

As though reading her mind, Varisa explained. “They don’t fight... Ever. It’s so peaceful that most people haven’t seen anything fiercer than a rat in their whole lives.”

Knowing central was safe was on thing, understand it was another. In the hinterland, safe meant you had the resources to fend threats while here, it meant secure from all threats. Well, external threats at least, public order though, was a whole different can of worms.

“Rats? Even babies can kill rats.” Though an exaggeration, young children and early teens watched over what rare livestock the tribe possessed as they fought each-others, killed vermin or small monsters.

“They have a lot of weak Normals, but they also have hundreds for each of our own. Even if one in thousand equal our best, we’ll still lose both in number and quality. If you wonder, why I know what you think because I’ve made the same assumption myself before. But why are you looking at their bear...”

“Next.” Called the teacher sharply.

Varisa quickly fished out her number then proceeded to sit at the designated emplacement soon to be joined by her self-designated attended thanks to a speedy sleight of hand.

Only to get scolded “You shouldn’t have done that.” But just as the young woman face turned red in embarrassment, her lady changed her tune. “No, it’s probably for the best seeing how you aren’t that good with the local language yet.”

Reading and writing while useful weren’t considered important skill by their tribe. If most tribesmen could at least read their own watered down Ravealian dialect, it was a poor introduction to the complexity of its modern counterpart.

“Silence!” Exhorted the professor and when the last murmur faded away, he finally addressed them. “I Auer, with a U. A.U.E.R. I’ll be your main teacher for this term, maybe longer if you manage to move up to next year.” He circled the class, looking at every student, as if to determine their worth. “Who here know the basic components to a spell? Raise your hands.”

Four arms shot up, one of which belonged to the frail boy, the who’d given the hinterlander pair the stink eye. The boy’s previous lack of self-assurance was nowhere to be seen, which is why the teacher preferred him the less assured target. “You,” he said to another boy who had his arm nonchalantly raised halfway. “Wallner, was it? Tell us what you know.”

The young man dropped his arm with a sigh. He was the type who’d always get into trouble no matter what they did, probably thanks to his sleepy look. “First is spell, second visualization and lastly, compensation. That’s about it.” The laconic answer matched the bored tone perfectly.

“Great job on being knowledgeable than the average citizen, and in case you’re wondering I’m not being sarcastic; after years of poppycock even a halfway decent answer sound like music to my ears.” Next he pointed at a girl. “You, the annoyingly overly enthusiastic and visibly homeschooled girl. You’re a Ravaeas, as in the factory owner, right?”

“Yes sir, he is my father. First is Vocalization, second is visualization, third is transmission, fourth and usually last, is Compensation, but in some case such as long-lasting spells, a control step can be added.”

“A perfect answer. May I ask the name of your tutor?”

“Gerald, sir.”

“Gerald, Gerald…” murmured the teacher. “Egger?”

“No, my teacher didn’t have a name, sir.” Last names only popped into existence a few generations ago as the population exploded. Currently, outside the capital it was only found amongst merchants and other professionals who sought recognition.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Can you tell me of his specialties?”

“Greater fire and lesser earth magic.”

“Then he really wasn’t one of mine.” If it weren’t for the glint in his, his smile would have gone unnoticed hidden as it was by the beard. “A perfect answer! Vocalization is the wording of the spell. Do note that I say wording, voicing the sound is not enough; unless you understand the words, the spirits won’t answer.”

“Visualization is exactly what it says. A good image help with the spell, it can also convey things which cannot easily be put in words. Do not EVER become too reliant on visualization; it’s a shortcut to suicide!” Years after years and no matter how much he emphasized the danger, there’d always be an idiot who’d try anyway.

“If the spell is sound, the spirit will retrieve the image and perform the request all in exchange for a compensation.” The teacher eyes glinted as he joked. “Spirits, much like people, require remuneration for their work and still much like people, it appears they do not like working.”

“I’m quite sure, that no matter my sermons, some of you will still find out first-hand what I’m about to warn you against.; spirits hate nothing more than a botched spell! Best case scenario you knock yourself unconscious, worst case...”

“Unconscious?” gasped someone.

“Really? That part already got you worried?” Mused the teacher. “Wait until I illustrate the worst-case scenario with an example from four years ago for the true kicker... It is a true story by the way, you can ask the staff about it.” Purposedly, tangent after tangent Auer made the suspense grow unbearable “As I was saying, four years ago, one particular idiot got into the habit of relying on visualization for about everything... What was their name, I can’t quite remember...”

“And?” Cut Lucius, a brown-haired boy face with a handsome face whose pleasant looks matched by an equally pleasant personality.

“They cast a fire spell using only two words, Create fire. They died consumed by an inextinguishable fire when all they were trying to do was light their pipe. You know they must have really angered the spirit because such a spell shouldn’t have worked to begin with.”

“Wha... What do you mean by inextinguishable?” Wondered Sylvester Wallner.

“Just as it says, no one was able to put if out.” He suddenly changed subject. “Control is a clause you can add to a spell change as to change its course or simply put an end to it. Just as with visualization, reason must prevail unless you wish to see your spell run amok. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Agreed the class wholeheartedly.

His warning delivered; the teacher went on to distribute a long list of books covering a wide array of subject along with a notice. “The school’s library opens this afternoon. You’ll find copies of every book there but not enough for everyone. You’ll be interested to know there’s a service to make copies, albeit for a fee. They used to rent them you see, but not anymore. Please, be sure to thank your senior for their thieving contribution.”

“He sounds quite salty about it.” told Varisa to her neighbors. “Do you think he knew the thieves personally?”

“No inquiring on your teachers’ past. You’re dismissed! Be sure to visit the library in groups, there are only so many exemplars you can borrow.”