We made our way through the bustling halls of the academy, Elaeya chatting animatedly as we walked, her voice cutting through the sea of other recruits like a bright, cheerful light. My mind was still tangled in the mess of the last few minutes, trying to piece together what exactly had just happened with Lyris and her crew. But at least now I had some clarity—thanks to Elaeya.
By the time we reached the Fae Diplomacy classroom, I was only half-listening to Elaeya's commentary about various instructors, my mind finally settling into a more focused place. We passed through the grand doors of the Diplomatic Chambers, and I immediately felt the difference. The room was large—vast, even—with rows of dark wood desks arranged in a semi-circle, each one polished to perfection. The floor gleamed with the same elegant yet austere feel as the rest of the academy. The faint smell of ancient books and parchment hung in the air, adding to the atmosphere of reverence that permeated the room.
Elaeya and I slipped into seats near the back, and I glanced around, seeing the other recruits trickling in. A few of them gave us quick glances before turning away, but no one dared to approach. I spotted a couple of familiar faces from earlier—Lyris and her group among them—but I kept my eyes straight ahead, not about to let them get under my skin again.
"You're good," Elaeya muttered beside me, noticing the way I stiffened at the sight of Lyris. "They'll get bored soon enough. Not worth your energy."
I just nodded, trying not to let my mind wander back to the chaos of the courtyard. It was enough that I was here, in a class that was supposed to help me get my bearings. If I could get through today without doing something ridiculously embarrassing, I'd consider it a win.
The instructor entered just as the last of the recruits filed in. He was tall, with straight blonde hair that caught the light like moonlight, his features sharp and regal. Ambassador Iren—Lyris's father, if Elaeya's gossip was to be believed. His presence immediately silenced the room as he stood at the front, his sharp gaze sweeping over us all.
"Welcome," he began in a low, commanding voice. "Fae Diplomacy is not a class about theory alone. It is about practice—about understanding the delicate balance that holds the realms together. Today, we begin with the basics. Know this: everything you say and do in the Courts will matter. What you think is trivial will be dissected. You may sit in silence, but you will still be observed."
I swallowed, forcing myself to pay attention. Maybe this class will help me understand this confusing people.
Elaeya, sitting beside me, whispered under her breath, "Don't worry. He's a hardass, but he doesn't bite unless you're a complete idiot."
I couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped. "Great. I'll try to avoid that."
Ambassador Iren moved to the board, and the class began in earnest, a whirlwind of foreign terms, traditions, and the nuances of Fae politics. I tried my best to keep up, taking notes and all, but it was all too much. I couldn't even understand most of the terms used. My head was a mess of confusion, and my stomach still churned uncomfortably at the thought of them.
That's when Ambassador Iren's voice broke through my thoughts again.
"Now," he said, his tone sharpening slightly, "since you're all new recruits here, I'd like to get to know you better. Please, stand and introduce yourselves. Name, and which Court you belong to."
A lump formed in my throat. Great. I'd hoped to slip into this class unnoticed, keep my head down, but of course, that was never going to happen.
Elaeya nudged me playfully as the first recruit stood, a tall, dark-haired Fae with piercing blue eyes who introduced himself confidently as "Varek,of the Winter Court." His voice rang out through the room, and the others responded with polite nods and murmurs.
One by one, the recruits gave their names and their Courts—Spring, Summer, and Autumn were represented, each introduction more polished than the last.
Finally, my turn came. My stomach twisted into knots as I stood up, suddenly acutely aware of the eyes on me. I cleared my throat and forced myself to stand tall, though every muscle in my body screamed at me to shrink back and disappear. The silence that fell over the class felt deafening, and for a moment, I didn't even know what to say.
"I'm Jay," I managed, my voice wavering slightly. I had no Court to claim, no allegiance to any realm or faction. All I had was my name, and that felt somehow insufficient. The murmurs began almost immediately, soft but laced with the kind of curiosity that made my skin crawl.
"Jay?" someone muttered, and I heard a faint laugh, likely from Lyris's group.
"She's probably not even worth the trouble," another voice added snidely.
I could feel the eyes boring into me. The awkwardness was palpable.
"I don't… I don't know which Court I belong to yet," I said, the words feeling like a weight I couldn't shake off. I tried to stand taller, but the embarrassment still crawled up my neck, coloring my skin.
The room was still for a moment, then a few scattered snickers and whispers echoed around me. The atmosphere was thick with judgment, and I wanted to sink into the floor and never come back.
"Not even a Court?" someone said, half-laughing. "That's... tragic."
I glanced at Elaeya, but she wasn't laughing. She just gave me a reassuring smile, her eyes flicking to the others with an unspoken message: Don't mind them.
Ambassador Iren, who had been watching us closely, tilted his head slightly. "Interesting," he said, his tone neutral. "A new recruit with no affiliation. That is unheard of. You are half Fae, no?"
"So, I've been told."
"Hmm. You may have your seat."
I nodded quickly, sinking back into my seat, wishing the ground would just swallow me whole. I was that recruit now. The one without a Court. I could feel my face burning, my thoughts spiraling.
"Well then," Ambassador Iren continued, the awkward tension lingering in the air, "let's move on, shall we?"
As he turned to write on the board, I let out a slow, shaky breath. Maybe it wasn't a huge deal. Maybe it didn't even matter in the long run.
But in that moment, it felt like the entire class was watching, judging, and deciding what kind of person I was based on something that I had no control over.
The class ended and we all filed out, heading towards our next one.
"What class do you have now?"
"Uh ..." I checked my schedule. "Fae History. Room 10."
"Oh wow. Your schedule is pretty much the same as mine. Come on. Let's go."
We walked side by side, the corridors feeling a bit more familiar now that I had someone to follow. Elaeya was talking again, but I couldn't focus. My mind kept wandering back to the ridiculousness of the earlier class. I couldn't help but feel self-conscious about the whole "no court" thing. Sure, it didn't mean much to me yet, but it felt like it made me stand out for all the wrong reasons.
Elaeya's voice pulled me out of my head. "So, Fae History. Should be fun. It's mostly about the different courts and their histories, some of the more famous Fae battles, and the occasional scandal. Trust me, the gossip is what makes it interesting."
I raised an eyebrow. "Gossip, huh? Sounds like something you seem to know a lot about."
Elaeya grinned, her lavender eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, definitely. You'd be surprised how much drama there is in the Fae world. For instance, did you know that Ember almost started a war with the Summer Court last year over a bet?"
I stared at her in disbelief. "A war? Over a bet?"
"Yep," Elaeya said, nodding. "Ember and the Summer Court's Queen's niece made a wager about who could create the most beautiful garden, and it got out of hand. Her garden was, and I quote, 'a sad excuse for a thicket,' and Ember just couldn't let that go."
I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity. "Well, that definitely sounds like the Ember I've come to know."
Elaeya chuckled. "Anyway, just wait until you get to the part where they teach you about the whole Summer-Winter rivalry. That shit's like a soap opera."
As we turned the corner, I could see Room 10 up ahead. Elaeya led the way, and we entered the classroom just as the bell rang. The room was large, with rows of seats arranged in a horseshoe shape, and a large chalkboard covered in notes on the Fae Courts.
Elaeya found us seats near the back, and I sat down, letting out a breath of relief. At least, for now, I wasn't the center of attention. A few other recruits trickled in, and the room filled with the soft murmur of Fae discussing the previous class.
Well, this day couldn't get any worse.
I was busy trying to ignore the awkwardness of my situation when the door to the classroom swung open with a bang. A tall, imposing figure stepped in, his dark hair falling just past his shoulders. His eyes swept over the room with a cold, calculating gaze before he spoke.
"Settle down," he commanded, his voice deep and resonant. "I'm Professor Caelis, and I'll be your instructor for Fae History. If you want to pass this class, you'd better keep up. This is your first warning."
I couldn't help but notice how his eyes briefly lingered on me, narrowing slightly, before he moved to the front of the room. It was enough to make my stomach drop, but I tried not to show it.
"Alright," he continued, "First things first, stand up, introduce yourselves, and tell me your name and what court you belong to."
My jaw dropped. Fucking seriously? Again?! Are you fucking kidding me?
Elaeya squeezed my arm gently, whispering, "You got this. Just tell him the truth."
As one by one, students stood and introduced themselves, I felt my anxiety building. When it was my turn, I stood up, trying to ignore the eyes on me.
"Name?" Professor Caelis prompted, his gaze sharp as he watched me.
"Uh, Jay," I muttered, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.
"And your court?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I... don't know," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
The class erupted into soft murmurs and laughter, and I could feel my face burning. A few whispered remarks floated my way, but I tried to ignore them.
Professor Caelis gave me a measured look, his expression unreadable. "Well, you'll figure it out sooner or later. Sit down."
I quickly dropped back into my seat, wishing I could sink into the floor and disappear. Elaeya gave me an encouraging smile, though, and I appreciated the gesture, even if it didn't fully ease the sting of being the odd one out.
Professor Caelis continued with the introductions, and I tried to focus on the material, but the nagging feeling of being watched never really went away.
The lecture began in earnest and Professor Caelis's voice carried across the lecture hall, clear and deliberate, as he began sketching a drawing on the board.
"Let's start with the basics, shall we?" he said, the chalk scraping against the board as he drew a large, swirling circle. " As I'm sure most of you know, the Fae realm didn't simply appear. It was created, birthed from the very essence of life itself."
I leaned forward with rapt attention.
"In the beginning," he started, "there was Danu, the goddess of life and creation. From her cauldron, the Cauldron of Souls, she forged the first Fae—a male and a female. These two were unlike anything the world had ever seen, and to this day, nothing like them has existed again."
He paused, turning to face the class, his sharp gaze sweeping over us.
"They were perfect beings of immense power, capable of wielding all the magic—air, fire, water, healing, and shape shifting, earth, ice and mind manipulation—in harmony. They embodied strength, grace, and balance, and they were tasked with shaping the Fae realm into a paradise. For a time, they succeeded. Their magic flowed freely, bringing life, beauty, and order to a once-chaotic world."
He drew two figures on the board, their hands outstretched, each wielding symbols representing the elements.
"But, as with all things, change was inevitable. When the First Fae procreated, their children were born with only fragments of their parents' power. No single child could wield all the magic as their parents did. Some were stronger in fire, others in water, air, or earth. These affinities became defining traits, passed down through generations. And as their descendants multiplied, these affinities grew more distinct, giving rise to factions of Fae aligned with one element over the others."
He gestured to the class as he spoke, emphasizing the growing divide. "These factions were the beginnings of what we now call the Four Courts: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. But back then, they weren't Courts. They were simply families, struggling to define their place in the realm."
His tone grew heavier as he continued. "At first, this division caused little conflict. The factions coexisted, working together to build and thrive. But as time went on, greed and pride crept in. Each faction began to believe their designated power was the strongest, the most valuable. And that belief, as it so often does, turned to ambition. Factions became armies, and armies went to war. What followed was a conflict that would last for a hundred years, leaving the Fae realm in ruins."
Professor Caelis stepped back, allowing the weight of his words to settle. "The Hundred-Year War is one of the darkest periods in our history. Entire families were wiped out. Lands were scorched, rivers dried up, and the skies darkened with the smoke of battle. It was a war fueled by arrogance and hatred, and it nearly destroyed us all."
A heavy silence fell over the room as he turned back to the chalkboard, drawing a simple symbol—a circle with lines connecting four points.
"The war would have continued indefinitely, if not for one group. A small faction of Fae, tired of the senseless destruction, chose to rise above their divisions. These Fae, from all four factions, came together in secret. They called themselves the Guardians of the Realm. Their goal was simple: to end the war and restore balance to the Fae realm."
His voice softened, almost reverent, as he continued. "The Guardians were not soldiers. They were scholars, healers, and visionaries. But they possessed something far greater than weapons: unity. Their efforts caught the attention of Danu herself, who blessed them with her divine powers and gifted them with weapons and powerful familiars, making them stronger than any faction could hope to match. With her blessing, they brokered peace, forging an accord between the factions and bringing the war to an end."
He underlined the circle on the board. "This accord became the foundation of what we now call the Elite Academy. What began as a small group of Guardians evolved into an institution dedicated to maintaining peace and balance in the realm. Several minor wars has occured since then, but the Elites have always been there to stop it before it went too far. The only thing standing between our realm and utter destruction caused by our own pride and greed is this Academy. Every student who walks through these halls is a part of that legacy. You are not just here to train. You are here to uphold the principles that saved our kind from destruction all those centuries ago."
The room was silent, the weight of the history pressing on all of us. Elaeya leaned toward me, whispering, "I don't know about you, but I've got goosebumps."
I nodded, swallowing hard. For the first time since stepping into the academy, I felt the full weight of what it meant to be here. This wasn't just a school. It was a place where history was made—and where, if I wasn't careful, I could easily get crushed under its expectations.