We left the dorm wing with the usual stream of students, the corridors already thick with footsteps and overlapping voices. The commoner rooms sat on a lower residential terrace, officially part of the Academy, but just far enough from the upper courts to make the message clear without anyone having to say it.
Even so, the route to the academic halls was absurd: wide, spotless, and ward-bright.
The corridor split into a covered bridge of crystal lattice and rune-braced struts, hanging over Valoria's lower districts like a transparent walkway through the sky. Through the floor I could see the city laid out beneath us, with tight streets traced with silver wardlines, transit barges drifting along invisible lanes, and rooftops still shining with morning mist.
Aetherion Academy didn't merely sit above Valoria.
It reigned over it.
Ryn walked beside me with one hand in his coat pocket and one hand carrying the last piece of bread like it was a personal protest.
"This bridge is stupid."
"It's structurally efficient."
"It's made of glass."
"Crystal."
"Ok. Fancy glass."
"It's not glass, Ryn."
He bit into the bread. "If I cast Ventus magic on it and it cracks, it's glass."
"You are not making a crack on this bridge."
"I could."
"You'll get expelled for that."
"Yeah? Then I'll crack it with purpose."
'Pause.'
I let out a short laugh despite myself.
That earned me a suspicious glance.
"Why are you smiling?"
"Hm? Ah, it's nothing— I just found it funny how it's only the first day, and you're already talking about vandalising the school."
"And? What's your point?"
"And my point is, we've gone from Basin mud everywhere to high-flying technological bridges that we want to break. It's just funny."
Ryn chewed for a moment, then swallowed.
"I don't really get what you're talking about, but sure."
We continued in silence for a few steps, letting the stream of students sweep us toward the east lecture hall wing.
The way students wore their uniforms set us all apart in strange ways. Some students looked like they were still getting used to trying on their uniforms. Other students, mostly nobles, already wore them as if they had been tailored to them from birth.
Then there were people like us.
Not pretending.
But not quite comfortable either.
Just... here.
And for now, that's enough.
Ryn broke the silence between us first.
"So."
"So," I repeated.
He glanced at me sideways. "You saw the rankings, right?"
"Yes, I did."
The rankings were revealed yesterday, right after the medical discharge notices, once the final practical results were processed. The first-year provisional board had been displayed on the lower floors of the Academy's main amphitheatre, letting the entire cohort stare at, gossip over, and immediately take it too seriously.
'I say "provisional", but in truth, Ryn had mentioned to me that the ranks won't change drastically until the final year exams or if there is any extraordinary achievement by a student, and the last time that happened... was 3 years ago.'
Aetherion had made its priorities clear from the beginning.
Knowledge mattered.
But ranking mattered in a way that everything else had to orbit around it.
It was a year-long ladder.
For four years.
A public scoreboard and a permanent invitation to compare yourself to everyone around you.
Efficient, but cruel, yet somehow motivating at the same time.
'Very fantasy academy-like.'
Ryn kicked lightly at a loose glimmer of dust on the bridge floor.
"I still think the board is insulting."
"Because you ranked lower than expected?"
"Because YOU ranked above me," he said immediately.
I looked at him with a mocking disbelief.
He pointed accusingly. "I definitely failed that theory exam; it's the only explanation."
I raised a brow. "Stop. I'm sure you did fine."
"No, Kael. I did not do 'fine'." He gave me a dramatic look of betrayal. "You ranked Circuit B"
"Yes, and?"
"I got ranked in Circuit C."
"So?"
"That means I must have bombed the theory exam so hard they actually thought I was illiterate."
"I don't think you would've been admitted if that was true."
Ryn made a face. "I knew I shouldn't have guessed on the leyline law section."
"You guessed?"
"Yeah... but with confidence."
"You're an idiot."
He jabbed a finger at me. "See? This is what I mean. You walk into a school you've never seen before, take a theory exam on an entire civilisation's magic systems, nearly die fighting a noble heir, disappear for two days, then wake up and somehow still outrank me."
I considered that.
"Well. When you say it out loud," I said, "I guess I really am impressive."
Ryn stopped walking and stared at me in dumbfounded disbelief.
Then he laughed once, disbelieving and loud enough that two passing students glanced over.
"You're insufferable, you know that, right?"
"Actually, I am ranked above you," I corrected mildly. "Which makes me objectively better."
Ryn nearly choked on air.
"Oh, you're going to use that to piss me off while we're here at the Academy, aren't you?"
"Possibly."
He resumed walking with the deeply offended energy of someone preparing a long-term revenge strategy.
"Then I guess I'm going to have to surpass you out of revenge."
"Please do, that would still mean I was the cause of your growth."
"... RIGHT. That's it. We're fighting right here and right now, and I'm going to throw you off this bridge."
I couldn't help but burst into laughter after seeing Ryn so easily infuriated.
"Haha, but if we do that, then you'd miss the first class."
"I'd make time."
The bridge opened into a broad terrace lined with columns and suspended gardens. Students split off toward different wings now, some carrying books, some carrying instruments, some looking half-awake and deeply miserable.
The ranking board had already begun to shape the way people looked at one another. I could feel it. The glances. The calculations. The quiet question under every interaction:
'Where are you compared to me?'
It wasn't hard to understand the reason for its design.
The Academy doesn't just educate.
It characterised.
And once it did characterise you, students would do most of the Academy's work for them.
Competition would drive the study.
Humiliation would drive improvement.
Pride would do the rest.
Ryn shoved the last of the bread into his mouth and spoke around it.
"It's a stupid system."
"It is," I agreed.
He swallowed. "You say that, but I can tell that you like it."
"I understand it."
"That basically means you like it."
I didn't deny it.
Because on some level, he was right.
A visible hierarchy is certainly brutal, but it's also clear, and clear systems could be exploited, measured, and even climbed.
The theory exam put me in the upper-middle range among all first-year students.
Ryn is in the lower-middle.
Not ideal.
But not a disaster.
Room to move.
Room to grow.
And more importantly... room to surprise some people. In high places.
Ryn glanced at me again, this time more seriously.
"You're not bothered?"
"By what?"
"Being put in Circuit B. I was sure that you were aiming for Circuit A."
I thought about Cyril for a moment.
About the provisional board.
About the Academy faculty staring at the results and filing names away into their own categories.
Then I answered honestly.
"No."
Ryn frowned. "Why not?"
"Because it's temporary."
That got his attention.
He looked at me for a moment, then a grin slowly pulled at the corner of his mouth.
"There he is."
"Who?"
"Smug Kael."
"I'm not smug."
"You just said your rank was temporary, like the board was a personal inconvenience to you."
"It is."
He exclaimed loudly and suddenly. "Oh yeah! Now we're talking! I'm actually going to enjoy watching you become a problem for these nobles."
"Let's get past the first lecture before we focus on anything else, ok?" I replied half in amusement, half composed.
'I say that, but I'm also kind of excited.'
We crossed into the east academic wing, where the architecture shifted from decorative grandeur to something more formal and measured. High vaulted ceilings. Curved hallways lined with etched plaques. Classroom doors made of dark wood reinforced with rune-threaded crystal.
A few noble students stood off to one side near a pillar, speaking in low voices. They glanced our way briefly, eyes flicking to our academy crests, then looking away when they realised we weren't anyone they considered important.
That was fine.
For now.
Ryn adjusted the strap of his backpack.
"What do you think the top of the ranking board looks like?"
"The cluster of heirs?"
"Yeah."
I thought back to the crystal board.
The names had been arranged in tiers of placement, though still subject to change as classes, duels, and practical assessments accumulated through the year.
"The top positions are mostly what you'd expect," I said. "Heirs. Noble elites. A few strong commoners scattered beneath."
Ryn made a low noise. "So basically the same situation we've always been in, but in a nicer place."
"Correct."
"Well, if the Academy is going to be a reflection of the world but with better lighting, then we should just be the shadows that cover it," Ryn muttered. It was faint, but I could hear what he was saying.
I didn't respond.
We passed under an arch where the hallway split three ways. Students peeled off toward their assigned courses, some muttering about instructors, some comparing schedules, some already complaining about workload despite the year having barely begun.
Ryn glanced around, then at me.
"Tell me again why this place needs so many hallways."
"Because scholars designed it."
"I didn't need an answer for that, Kael."
"Oh, really? You're usually unsure about these things, so I couldn't tell." I said teasingly.
Ryn opened his mouth to retort, then paused.
His brow furrowed.
He looked down at the folded schedule slip in his hand, then back at me.
"…What is our first class again?"
I checked my own schedule, though I already knew.
"Fundamentals of Aether."
Ryn stared at me for a long beat.
Then he slouched like a man witnessing a nation's collapse.
"Ah, shitting hell."