As elves, we owe nothing to anyone in this human society. We have no obligation to measure up to the nobility, nor to prove what we are capable of, moreover, we are beings loved by nature and magic as a whole.
However, this is completely different for the students we are watching. After the incredibly tedious classes on Magic Theory, all students were led outside for the Conjuration Practice session. Even with texts upon texts teaching countless situations regarding what should or should not be done to create a magical phenomenon, it is still necessary for students to practice identifying specific arcane structures or even using spells in emergency situations.
Not everyone goes through this procedure, furthermore, students from a higher social standing have less immediate pressure due to tutors and also the money their family provides over the years, thus providing better training.
In summary, nobles don't need to struggle as much as commoners. It's kind of sad, a shame that this is the reality here.
The place we are in is the main courtyard, which contains a wide court surrounded by bleachers. Since elves are only here to observe, we sit watching the humans play with magic. It's like watching a child learning to crawl or using a stick, the difference being that this stick has been reinforced to +10 and can destroy rocks with one blow.
I don't have much desire to pay close attention to what everyone here is doing, and unfortunately, only Elandor is brave enough to stay near me, which I am internally grateful for. I can imagine Aubrey being a hellishly annoying antisocial person, it's a stroke of luck that there is at least one person brave enough to be near Miss Lillaccuria.
"Oh, that boy is definitely going to explode himself doing that..."
I hear my elf colleague's comment and immediately try to look at what he is referring to. It's the protagonist again, using a series of gestures to create a fireball, but judging by the delay and Elandor's phrase, I bet he is accumulating so much mana that he runs the risk of detonating a bomb in the middle of the court.
I don't move from my spot, I just keep watching carefully. Two seconds later, the protagonist finishes the sequence of gestures and launches the fireball, which dances spirally through the air and dissolves into yellow sparks, impressing the other colleagues. Show-off.
Human men have this irritating habit of puffing out their chests when they manage some little shiny thing.
The fireball was still dissolving in the air when I smelled a sweet and expensive perfume approaching us.
The impeccably dressed figure stopped near my elbow, and only then did I heard the melodious, forced voice, carrying the typical upturned nose of a Duke's daughter.
"Greetings, Miss Lillaccuria." She tilted her head, giving a bright smile. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
Elandor nearly coughed from holding back his laughter. I arch an eyebrow.
"You never interrupt anything important" I replied, without getting up from the bleachers. "What do you want now?"
This is the Duke's daughter, Lady Mirelle d'Astervane, the most spoiled of Magistra Oath's protégés. She continues to hold that satisfied little smile, as if she were accustomed to everyone adjusting to her presence. A typical ojou-sama, even her eyelashes seemed trained to blink with arrogance.
"Oh, I just wanted to greet you, Miss Aubrey." She turned her eyes back to me. "It's so rare to see an elf around here who isn't posing to look enchanted with everything."
"I don't like it here" I admitted, crossing my arms. "Most of the classes are a monumental waste of time, and this practical part only serves to remind me how careless humans are with mana."
Mirelle blinked, surprised for an instant, before fluttering a fan to cover part of her face.
"Finally, someone who speaks the truth. I detest this institute... full of people who think they are talented because they can make a spark spin in the air."
Elandor was really holding back his laughter hard, and this time I couldn't identify if it was because of a spirit playing tricks or if he enjoyed the young lady's sharp remark. Mirelle sat down next to me without asking permission, adjusting her skirt with a gesture too elegant for this miserable place.
For a few moments, we watched the students running around with wands, tripping over invisible arcane structures, and exploding small tufts of grass. Without surprising me, she let slip a comment like someone dropping poison into water just to see what happens:
"By the way, about that boy who just launched the fire spiral... you know, don't you?"
"Know what?"
She clasped her hands in her lap, satisfied, since a high-quality topic was on the tip of her tongue to draw more people to her side.
"They say he is likely the bastard son of some great noble highly talented in magic."
"Who said that?"
Mirelle giggled, causing the two human girls at the base of the bleachers to look up.
"Oh, darling... everyone. He got top marks on the exams, caught the attention of half the professors, and no one 'normal' does that without a little push from blue blood. Isn't it obvious?"
I look back at the protagonist, who was now receiving pats on the back from his colleagues, proud of his own pyrotechnics. Mirelle, wanting to add more fuel to the fire, delivered more information with that malicious tone of gossip:
"Of course, being a bastard, they can't officially admit anything, so they just let the poor dear shine among the commoners and pretend it's all the result of 'effort'."
She raised a fan and opened it dramatically in front of her face, fanning herself with a air of having loved spreading information about someone, further sinking his reputation. I personally don't care, but I much prefer Mirelle to like me than to invent lies about me.
Elandor gave me a light nudge on the shoulder, whispering:
"Did she really just come to spread that?"
I sighed, bored.
"She always just comes to spread something. It's a duke's daughter's favorite pastime."
Mirelle turned to me, apparently, this airhead didn't realize we had been talking about her a moment ago.
"So, Aubrey? What's your opinion on our little explosive prodigy?"
"That he will still detonate something big enough to close half the courtyard, and that you have too much free time for low-level gossip. Avoid wasting your attention on such futile things."
She let out another of those rehearsed giggles, as pleasant as the venom of a black mamba.
"Oh, I love it. You really never change, Miss Aubrey."
And there Mirelle stayed, with her pompous manner, feeling like the owner of the world and caring little about my suggestion... Why do you have to stay exactly where I didn't ask you to be?