"Odd," the roommate commented, "An odd name, Flamier."
"Well," Davo started, "I'm from the West. Most of our names aren't to your liking."
"Aren't the Freirs from the West? You westerners have a bad reputation."
"The Freirs, as far as I know, were from different regions. I just don't want those Northeast warriors to guess what most think: Freirs are solely from the West. It's not true; I read about it." Of course I’m lying, Davo thought, but these students here ahould at least before tame towards the West. Even Southeasterners think badly of the Freirs, only because they were not allies. Though, not enemies, either.
"Okay, roommate. I guess that makes sense. After all, there were many of the Freirs. I wonder if any of them are alive today, Flamier?"
"Can you call me by my given name?"
"In the Southeast, we call everyone by their surname, unless if they're a good friend. I'm going to be calling you Flamier, your surname."
"Well..." At least he doesn't know my real surname, Davo thought. "I suppose I'll be heading to class now. The first period starts in twenty minutes, right?"
"That's correct, you should get going. I'll be going along myself, too. See you later."
"Yeah, Hro."
"My surname."
"Oohirashima." Damn mouthful, Davo thought. He wouldn't dare say it aloud, though.
"There we go. Don't get lost in this place, fifth. It's a big academy."
"Right." Davo felt annoyed that Hro was directing him like a guide would a child. Although, Five Triangles was indeed a large academy. Still, it didn't justify the fact that thirds through the system to citizens could think and speak lowly of fourths and fifths. Even Nigon thought fifths and fourths low. But at least Davo wasn't a sixth; sixths weren't even on the charts. The sixths would be beaten physically, too. Especially by the Magon-hating Nigon in the slums. Why any Magon would take a stroll around the slums is beyond Davo.
Davo made his way through the academy to the second floor and to his designated class, Class 5-12. There are twenty classes for fifth degrees, eighteen for fourths, twelve for thirds, eight for seconds, and three for firsts. Each class had about thirty or forty students. The Five Triangle Arts Academy of Magon Lecture is composed of four building complexes, for fifths through seconds, and two underground complexes, for sixths and firsts. Firsts were protected by a either a Sieclon (a mostly-Magon tribe from the South) slave-guard or an appointed Nigon guard, considering that they could take care of magic themselves. In this world, physical and magical defenses spare little effort against its opposite. Precise physical attacks can easily destroy an adept orb shield, while a simple fire spell can burn even the strongest soldier.
The class was organized in a small three-step amphitheatre formation. Ten seats near the front, up one step to ten in the middle, and up one step to ten in the back. There were six rows and five columns. Everyone took random seats and tried to find familiar faces. More often than not, people were clueless as to who their peers were. Some of those that had no friends in the classroom started speaking to someone next to them, enjoying fruitful conversations. There was one student, though, that everyone seemed to stay away from. Well, four, actually. That was Davo himself and three other Westerners. Westerners are thought to be deceitful, and known by their signature bluish hair. There's also a stereotype of them being inbred, because all Westerners only have red orb magic; the color and type of one's magic is determined by their genes.
Since everyone seemed to ignore him, Davo took a seat in the second back row in the three-quarters-square of Western-inhabited desks. He took the corner closest to the front center of the room. The three other Westerners were seldom speaking to each other, but it was apparent that they knew they would have to get to know each other; no one else would. A girl with green eyes spoke up, trying a conversation with her countrymen.
"I'm feeling like this class isn't filled with serious lads and lasses," she guessed.
"These bigots are going to be expelled," an apparent blind boy stated, his blindfold with an eye drawn on covering his eyes, "They're laughing, making jokes. Not one class in this academy is known to be fun."
"Most are exciting, though, I’ve heard, thought difficult," Davo commented.
"That they are," the last member of the group, a boy with a scar upon his nose, agreed, "The classes here are harsh and difficult endeavors, but it's a good experience."
"I'd say, friend," the blind boy started, "That we're going to be tops in this class, and move up a degree or two. The only reason why we're in fifth is because we're from the West, so we're exceeding at healing, not attacking. And nobody likes the Freir rumors, either."
"Freir rumors?" Davo asked, "Are there more accusations considering those ancient rebels?" It was difficult for him to insult his family, although a small insult, but he showed no sign of it.
"They say that the last of the Freirs are taking refuge in the West, specifically Vinrea." Davo made no outward reaction to the mention of his home.
"So, Freirs are rumored to be in Vinrea, the capital of the old warstate?"
“That’s right, the last battle site in the Freir War is where people think the Freirs are staying. Vnirea and its giant walls are still revolting, even after losing their war. The poor people there must be drowning in crime.”
"It’s common for rebels to aid each other,” the girl sighed, “But enough of that, friends, this boy is new. Let's introduce ourselves. My name is Amaliva of Rezni."
Davo thought of one of the many towns and villages he had visited on his way to the Centre Land. "Davo Flamier, from Ashvensa."
"Ek Dururan, from Aes," the scar boy introduced.
"Malro of Rezni," the blind boy greeted, "You're from the candle village, Davo?"
"Indeed."
"Brought any with you?" Ek asked.
"You’re only allowed to bring clothes and supplies into the academy, so no."
"What an odd name, Flamier, even for us Westerners," Amaliva said.
"I'm from a village of ash; I believe it suits me."
"That it does."
"And you, Amaliva and Malro, you only have one name?"
"We're half-breed slaves. We became free when our master died and his son set us free. He took us to Eslientum, but then he said something about joining bears..."
"The Greu Hill's Bears?"
"I think that was it."
"Hah, I encountered their highwaymen. I didn't have anything on me, though. So what kind of name is 'Ek'? I haven't heard it before."
"I'm from the Mavr House, in Aes."
"Hm, I’ve heard of the house before. Is your father's name Dururan?"
"No, he's a Mavr. He divorced my mother, who is a Dururan. A lowborn."
"Ah, I'm sorry."
"No, no, it makes me happy to know she's away from the man. He doesn't deserve his title as a merchant."
The four stopped speaking when they noticed a man walked into the classroom. He had a first degree badge, as well a staff badge. He had a kind yet serious look about him. Davo and his countrymen knew this wouldn't be the worst time spent there.1029Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLhbyQB5UNr
