A man walked onto the stage.
Headmaster Theoran Vale.
I recognized him immediately.
Eighty-one years old.
Grey hair.
Cane.
Calm expression.
The kind of man who looked like he had already heard every excuse students could possibly invent and had stopped finding them creative decades ago.
More importantly...
He was responsible for the five-class system.
Which made him personally responsible for the silver V beneath my crest.
My opinion remained undecided.
The Headmaster stopped behind the podium.
A formation carried his voice through the hall.
"Welcome to Zenith Academy."
Applause followed.
I contributed enough to remain socially acceptable.
Barely.
The Headmaster waited until the room settled.
"Yesterday, each of you learned which class you will belong to during your years at Zenith."
Here it came.
"Some of you were pleased."
A few students smiled.
"Some were disappointed."
Several shifted.
