Glyph Academy's bells had long since chimed. The griffins commonly perched on the edge of rooftops had gone hunting in the clouds. The crowds of students and staff members had disappeared from the school grounds. Realistically speaking, classes should have already commenced by now. But much like the morning prior, their homeroom teacher was nowhere to be seen.

As Elaine entered the room alongside Fearne, she was met with a sight of unmotivated and slightly annoyed sorcerers slumped in their seats. She didn't even have to peek a stare at the professor's desk to know that he was absent. You hate tardiness, do you? Elaine thought in frustration, plopping herself at her seat. Then why is it you're the last person to arrive at your own class...?

"Elaine," said Mason next to her, and Elaine herself flinched in surprise at the sound of his heavy yet gentle voice. "I didn't get a chance to speak with you after Spellcasting yesterday. I wanted to compliment you on your magic."

"Oh?" Elaine said.

"Yes, it was...bright," he said, rather awkwardly. "That wasn't a basic-leveled spell, was it? How did you manage to learn it?"

Elaine hesitated. "I...err..."

How was she meant to address this? She hadn't an idea of how she pulled off the spell either. It just sort of happened...but she didn't think Mason would be satisfied with such a vague explanation.

"Every second I could spare," Elaine started, "I'd dedicate my time to learning spells with my brother. I was outright awful when I first started. Fire Magic wasn't for me; I'd always tense up at the thought of getting burned. Water Magic was tricky also, too many variables to keep track of. For some reason though, Light Magic just came easy to me. Even my older brother who had started practicing Light Magic spells years in advance, mind you, said that he was jealous of how fast I'd gotten the hang of it."

Elaine chuckled at the memory; Ellend was red faced and whining whilst she was glowing as brilliantly as the distant stars in the night sky. "I assumed he was putting on a front to make me feel better, but..."

"I don't remember seeing you at the Entrance Exam," Mason said suddenly.

"Oh, that's because I didn't take it."

"Ah, makes sense," Mason nodded. "Even still, when we were preparing to begin, I remember the overseer of the exam mentioning that all the participants present were on equal-footing. That is to say, none of our abilities outshined or came short of a fellow participant. It gave me a peace of mind."

Elaine sensed it, the sunken acrimony trapped in his words. "But..."

"But," he continued, "when it was that the exam commenced, only then did I realize just how outclassed I was. They were using spells I'd never even seen before. I wondered, did someone like me realistically stand a chance here? By some act of divine intervention I passed, although I wasn't excited as I otherwise would have been."

Elaine let Mason say what was obviously on his chest. This was the most the two had spoken since they had first met yesterday. The more she interacted with him, the more it warded away the trace amounts of reluctance Elaine still harbored towards him.

"There's a feeling I always get from people who are stronger than me," Mason said. "People I won't ever be able to compete with. Yesterday, I got that same feeling from you."

Elaine's eyes stretched open. "What kind of feeling, if I may ask?"

Mason lowered his head at the desk. "A great feeling...of despair."

She hadn't put much thought into the matter, but when a sorcerer became too powerful, people would obviously crowd around them to adore and shout and point and praise. But they also had a tendency to stay clear of that sorcerer's path, not due to respect or an unspoken loyalty. It was fear, an emotion as cold as the wintry winds hailing from the peaks of the Argos Mountains in the north.

Hypothetically if she were to continue getting stronger with her magic, would others start perceiving her in the very same vein? Would Fearne or Custas end up being intimidated or even afraid by her? No, the notion was completely ridiculous. Magic doesn't make the sorcerer, their ideals do. Aunt Delilah had taught her that during one of her rare visits.

That question, it spiraled back into her. What kind of sorcerer do I want to be? It had taken on a new meaning now, a new significance. She could try as much as she'd like to distinguish herself, to use her magic for the betterment of Incantian society. Ultimately though, none of it would matter if the country had already forged a general consensus about her. That strange girl raised in a countryside home from a no-name house with her...unusual Light Magic.

Elaine shivered at that imagined yet possible future, and she reckoned Mason must have picked up on her plummeting nerves. "Don't mind me, Harwood," he said, trying to fake a smile. "I'm used to being surrounded by loads of powerful sorcerers where I'm from. And when I witness a spell or kind of magic my eyes fail to comprehend, well, it puts me on edge. The "fear of the unknown" and all of that."

"Yeah, I get it," Elaine exhaled. "By the way, I was so focused on passing Professor Knight's insane exercise that I hadn't even gotten the chance to see the type of magic you specialize in."

Mason shrugged. "Nothing too fancy. Just a couple of basic protection spells, the kind you'd see your neighbor cast on themself to avoid getting drenched by rain."

Elaine's frown was tiny, if but only a tad noticeable. She didn't buy it; he was just being too modest. "Can you show me?" Elaine asked, leaning closer to him, scuttling to the edge of her chair. "I've got to see how it works."

Mason gawked at her in total disbelief. "R...Right now?"

Elaine clasped her hands together. "Pretty please?!"

Fortuitously for him, their homeroom teacher had chosen that precise moment to swing open the door. The room fell silent as Allan Marsh the Abyssal Sorcerer stalked inside, a pale skeleton with a frown that said, "Please, don't bother me. I'm tired right now." The crow mounted on his shoulder cocked one of its blank eyes at them, absorbing the class with its unreadable stare.

Professor Marsh carried a stack of documents in his hands, as well as some envelopes. Delicately placing them onto his desk, the man began scanning one sheet of paper, in particular. Whatever he was reading on there, it plainly made his mood sour. That is to say, it made him look even less enthusiastic than he already was.

Covering a dehydrated scowl with his palm, Professor Marsh said, "Good morning, class. I've heard some...things from your professors regarding your performance during your first day of lessons."

Custas shot a hand in the air, snickering. "What kind of things, professor?"

"Things," Professor Marsh repeated, refusing to elaborate further. "Now then, without letting the sun slip by, I suppose we should get right into this morning's main topic. It's customary for every class to have a representative, of sorts. A class president, if you will. And so before you leavd homeroom I would have expected you to select amongst yourselves one person who'd be willing to assume the position."

A class president, huh? Elaine thought, amused. I guess at the end of the day, this place really is just a school.

Professor Marsh pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. "Personally, I don't believe there is such a need for this. It all just seems like one pointless waste of my time, but far be it for me to stand in the way of our headmaster's vision. So, let's have it. Who will it be?"

Elaine didn't expect anyone to volunteer right away. Class president. She wasn't knowledgeable of what exactly the job would entail but it sounded like a huge responsibility. And they were already saddled with other duties and appointments from their regular lessons alone. Who would burden themselves with an additional duty, and willingly, no less.

Someone at the front of the class shot their hand into the air. Elaine leaned forward in her seat and squinted, only to uncover that the person who had done so was Simon.

"Sir," he said loudly. "I believe that I possess the appropriate qualifications of serving as class president. With me as this class' spearhead, I can confidently say that I will—"

"Oh, no! Not so fast, Four Eyes!" Jack shouted, standing up in his seat. "With you as our class president, this place would turn dull. You'd probably have us spend our mornings reviewing a chapter of a textbook or reciting the academy pledge over and over again. Talk about lifeless!"

Simon cut his eye at him. "It's called being diligent, Durge," Simon muttered. "A trait that we as students should naturally possess. I'll have you know that I have experience in these sorts of tasks. I think out of everyone present here that I would be the most suitable choice."

"You'd be wrong," Jack grunted. "Now, if we're talking class presidents and crap like that, then I'm your mage! Enforcing the law and keeping the peace is the duty of a State Sorcerer! This job was practically made for a guy like me! Pick me, and I'll have this place running as smoothly as a fine-tuned arcanetech contraption in no time flat."

Simon rolled his eyes. "You as our class president? Don't make me laugh. You'd see to this homeroom's desolation before the day's end. Why, I imagine you'd more than likely force us to conduct practice duels and other such nonsense."

"Practice duels?!" Jack exclaimed, his eyes igniting with excitement. "Now, there's the first good idea you've had all morning! In fact, when I'm class president, that'll be the first rule I'll make!"

"Oh, hallocks! I was being sarcastic! Imbecile."

"Hey, what about me?" Rayla pouted. "I'd like a chance to be class president, too. I like to think that I have some pretty solid organizational skills. I used to help out at my grandmother's store every day when I was little. Oh, I wanna do it! Pick me!"

"No, I should be president," Edgar interrupted from the row behind where Elaine was sitting. "Don't got a reason. I just think it should be me."

"Screw that. Let me do it!"

"Over here!"

"I want to try too!"

In a matter of seconds, the entire class had been engulfed in a tidal wave of howling delirium. Elaine could have never foreseen this. Was it because most of them were nobles that they felt the need to lead others? Was that it? Or were they motivated purely on the prospect of being representative of the homeroom itself? Elaine hadn't an answer.

At the very least, she couldn't deny that the exhilaration the bunch exuded was contagious. She even spotted Kliff trying his hand at the position. Although she could barely make out what he was saying, based exclusively on his determined expression, he appeared to have faith in his words.

With mostly everyone competing, it encouraged Elaine to want to try as well. Nervously, she started to raise her hand, all the while searching for reasons why she'd make a solid choice. It wasn't much but she'd been tasked with watching over the potions shop by herself or looking after Liam and Ellend while her folks were out of town. If responsibility was a key component for what made a proficient class president, then surely she'd do a somewhat decent job at it.

The crow unfolded its feathery, black wings and shrieked its pair of tiny lungs. That got everyone's attention, and the class was swallowed by an oppressive silence once more. Professor Marsh's glare sizzled with irritation; the man looked like he was attempting to sunder them all with his nasty scowl alone.

"As I said, a pointless waste of time," Professor Marsh muttered. "For the sake of my sanity, we'll be conducting this conundrum my way."

With a snap of Professor Marsh's fingers, the crow perched on his shoulder shot into the air. It glided around on a phantom current, the creature shedding its feathers wherever it flew. And one of these feathers—swaying back and forth as it danced out of the air—landed directly on Elaine's desk. She gasped as it started to release a faint glow of darkish light, expanding from its original slender design into a rectangular sheet of thin paper.

Next to her, the feather that had dropped on Mason's desk had also undergone the strange transformation. By the time the crow had returned to its master—landing primly on Professor Marsh's left shoulder—every student had a gray-tinted sheet of their own.

Elaine already knew that the animal's intelligence vastly eclipsed others of its species, but she could have never guessed it to be enchanted as well. No, it'd been placed under a certain kind of charm. But Elaine found herself looking elsewhere as the bird cocked its head at her, projecting its unnervingly blank expression.

"There, write the name of who you'd like to be the class president," Professor Marsh dryly instructed. "The student with the highest number of votes will henceforth be appointed to the position. Sound fair?"

"If I may, sir," said Simon. "This seems like a highly ineffective method of going about this issue."

"He's right," Rayla agreed. "I mean, couldn't we all just choose ourselves?"

Professor Marsh shrugged. "It's possible."

"And yet you'd still have us do this?"

"Beats listening to you brats bicker with one another all morning long," Professor Marsh sighed. "But you know, for someone among you to procure more than a single vote, well, I'd say that would speak volumes about them as a character, wouldn't you?"

Simon readjusted his glasses. Elaine had expected him to argue further with their homeroom teacher; he didn't. Perhaps he realized doing so would be futile as it already seemed like Professor Marsh wasn't open for a debate or compromise. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. In fact, Elaine highly suspected that he really didn't care who the class president was. If his frown accounted for anything, it was to emphasize just how uninvested he was.

Sighing, Elaine picked up her pen and jotted its tip onto the sheet. Like Rayla had mentioned, Elaine considered writing her own name, but what would she realistically accomplish by doing so? She didn't imagine anyone else voting for her, and as she pondered the subject more, Elaine found herself doubting if she would even make a good president to begin with.

Yes, there were far more fitting choices for the position. She could see Simon himself doing a servicable job. He had a good head on his shoulders, seemed fairly knowledgeable, and would be strict enough to enforce a sense of unity within the class. But what about Kliff? Would he make a good leader?

Elaine glanced up from the paper, spending a peek at the blonde-haired boy at the front of class. Who had he decided upon, she wondered. Admittedly, discounting Fearne and, to an extent, Custas, she really didn't know a lot about her other classmates. In fairness, whatever choice she'd make might, at the end of the semester, prove to be one of the worst misjudgments she could have ever possibly rationalized.

I guess I'll go with Simon, Elaine thought.

However, once ink met paper, a new contender manifested in her mind. Before she had a moment to reconsider, she had already finished hastily scribbling down the name. The page disintegrated a second later, reduced to shards of black dust. It was probably a condition of the charm as Elaine noticed a few of her deskmates' papers crumble as well.

Standing by his desk, Professor Marsh inhaled deeply through his nostrils, his eyes squeezed shut. "Very interesting," he said. "Alright then, I guess it's decided. From this day forth, your class president shall be Adeline Griffith."

The girl with auburn-colored hair exclaimed in her seat. "Me?!"

Marsh nodded. "It would seem so. Congratulations."

"No, that can't be. There must be some kind of mistake," Adeline stammered, anxiety shattering the tone of her voice.

"Not likely," Professor Marsh answered her. "You're the only person in the class with two votes. Interestingly enough, neither of them were from you yourself."

So does that mean Adeline voted for someone other than herself? Elaine thought.

She spotted Adeline attempting to still bewilderment in her seat, consistently gulping down long, drawn out breaths. But her anxiety had a gumptious determination. The girl bit her lower lip, fiddled with the pen in her hand, solidified her ambivalent gaze onto the desk.

Now Elaine definitely hadn't anticipated such a reaction. From her perspective, Adeline had always come across as powerful, valiant, acute. She was the surgin' Glacial Girl, for Aeris' sake!

"I...I want this to be unanimous," Adeline said, her voice flaking. "That is to say, I won't accept the position, not until I'm assured that there aren't objections from any of my classmates. This choice is as much mine as it is theirs."

"Fair enough," Professor Marsh shrugged.

Elaine smiled at the respectable comment, and she would then raise a hand into the air. "I think you should do it."

Adeline whirled around to meet Elaine's stare. There she was, a noble, a well-respected sorcerer, the daughter of the current general of the Incantian Military, gawking in amazement—or rather that was an expression of solace—like a child who had just been praised by their instructor. Yes, Elaine had indeed misjudged her. This wasn't a legend or hardened spellcaster.

No matter the stories or words of praise or the mountain of accomplishments she'd amassed in just her short life, for at the end of the day, like Elaine herself, Adeline was only just a kid. Elaine was comforted by this, it let her know that even someone as amazing as Adeline could have their spirits, their courage challenged by Glyph Academy.

"If I recall, you are Elaine, aren't you?" asked Adeline. "Why? Why would you place your faith in me of all people?"

"Surely it can't be that surprising, can it?" Elaine said. "During our Spellcasting lesson, while everyone was panicking and trying to figure out what they should do, it was you that took control of the situation. You somehow turned chaos into order, and we were all better off because of it. If nothing else, I think you'd make for a great leader."

Adeline gasped. "A leader, you say? Me?"

"Yup," Elaine affirmed. "You care more for the class as a collective rather than just yourself. An admirable trait for a leader, I'd say. It's the reason I voted for you, anyway."

Adeline fair cheeks inflamed from her blushing. It was clear as day that the girl wanted to say something—her lips were quivering, failing to capture within them a single word—but she was too astounded to reply.

Simon folded his arms, smiling as he nodded his head. "I concur with Elaine. I see no issue with Adeline being our president. Should she accept the role, I'll gladly follow her lead."

"Hell yeah! The Glacial Girl herself is gonna be our class rep?!" howled Jack. "Now I can get behind that. Sign me up!"

"A fitting role for a member of House Griffith. At least, in my opinion," added Mason.

Elaine smiled, and it looked like everyone in class was all in agreement.

"Very well, then." Exhaling, Adeline rose out of her seat, placing a hand over her breast. "While I'm uncertain as to what kind of expectations you've entrusted me with," she said, "I will nevertheless try my hardest to see them fulfilled. As your class president."

There it was, her confidence was back. Her resolute tone void of hesitance or doubt. A look as solid and determined as ice. That was the unbreakable sorcerer prodigy Elaine was familiar with. Now that the decision had been made, Adeline's previous fit of shivering nervousness had vaporized, leaving in its place a fierce portrait of unfiltered confidence. Adeline would be a great class president, which Elaine was certain of.

"Yes, well, now that that's been taken care of, we can proceed with what I actually wanted to discuss with you." Professor Marsh held up his hand, and materializing out of purplish flames that billowed within his fingers was a small, gold-colored medal shaped like a star. "This is a Radiant Star."

Elaine gulped as she observed it intently, the medal hovering idly above his hand.

"These stars are awarded to any student who has succeeded in accomplishing a commendable action or great deed. And I don't just mean getting good grades or requesting extra-credit assignments. These stars are only distributed to those who are Honorable, students who go out of their way to perform principled and respectable acts. Sorcerers that embody Glyph Academy's fundamental ideals.

"Now pay attention, this is the important part. There are three kinds of Radiant Stars. The first and lowest are bronze; four of them equate to a silver Radiant Star, which is the second highest. Lastly, there are gold Radiant Stars, like the one I'm holding here. Three Silvers will award you a Gold, and if you accomplish that, well, you'll be bestowed a special gift from Headmaster Valerian himself."

"A gift, huh? Now you've got my attention, teach," Custas sneered, leaning forward in his desk. "And just what kind of reward are we talking about here? Tokens? I bet it's tokens."

"If you want to find out," Professor Marsh said, "then I suggest trying your hand at acquiring one yourself."

Custas puckered a pout. "Why do I even bother asking...?"

"While obtaining Radiant Stars shouldn't take priority over your rudimentary studies, truly exceptional students will find the time to do so anyway. This is why, on the eve of this semester's conclusion, I expect each of you to have obtained a Star. Those who don't will receive a... special punishment of my choosing."

"What?!" screamed Rayla.

"Oh, come on!" Jack grunted. "You just said they were extremely difficult to get!"

"I did," Professor Marsh nodded, the Radiant Star floating in his hand disintegrating into golden ash. "But if you lot cannot even handle this challenge, then what hope do you have at becoming Professional Sorcerers? Much less graduating from Glyph."

True to his nature, Professor Marsh was a tough mage to please. And on top of all the work they'd eventually be assigned from their other classes, they now had a new issue to agonize over.

One problem after another, Elaine thought, frowning.