The walk to the Main Castle is a blend of nervous anticipation and quiet awe. The sheer size of the structure looms over you as Rune leads the way, his tail swaying lazily behind him, always going back toward you for a nuzzle, before shifting around again to try to grab a butterfly or approaching another student curiously. Fibble, perched comfortably on your shoulder, mutters a series of complaints about the early hour, though his usual sarcasm seems muted by curiosity.
The classroom for Lorecraft is situated on
the third floor, and by the time you arrive, students are already
filing in. The air buzzes with quiet chatter, but as soon as you step
through the door, you feel the subtle shift in the atmosphere.
Conversations die down as gazes flicker toward Rune, wary and unkind.
Rune gives you a quick grin, as though trying to brush off the tension. You watch as the other students shuffle away, leaving a wide berth around him as though he carries a contagious curse. The only available seats are in the middle of the room, and you sit beside Rune, ignoring the whispers that ripple through the class.
The door at the front of the room swings
open, and a tall, elegant figure enters. Professor Liora Scheh
commands attention without a word, his presence magnetic. He exudes
charm in the effortless way of someone who has always known the
weight of his words. His honey-toned voice cuts through the lingering
murmurs as he surveys the room with an inviting smile.
“Good morning, everyone,” he begins, his
voice like a melody. “Welcome to Lorecraft. I am Professor Liora
Scheh, and it is my great pleasure to guide you through the histories
of our world’s most legendary figures.”
His introduction is neither boastful nor
rigid—it’s natural, flowing like water over smooth stones. He
begins pacing slowly, his hands gesturing with an understated grace.
“This class will not merely be about memorizing dates and names. We
will delve into the motivations, the choices, and the legacies that
shaped our world. After all, history is not a list of facts; it is
the stories we tell and the lessons we carry forward.”
Several students lean forward in their
seats, their expressions dreamy, captivated by his every word. You
can’t help but notice Tsuki Laito, a slender boy with an air of
quiet contemplation, seated a few rows ahead. His eyes shimmer with
interest as though already caught in the web of Liora’s
storytelling.
The professor halts, turning his gaze toward
Tsuki. “Tsuki Laito, is it?” he asks, his smile warm. “Tell me,
what do you know of Cinderella the Great?”
Tsuki straightens, his demeanor calm and
thoughtful. “Cinderella was a queen of Austreim,” he begins
softly. “But before that, she was a servant in her own home,
treated cruelly by her stepfamily. Her kindness and perseverance
eventually led her to a royal ball, where she met the prince who
would become her husband. With the help of an enchanted godmother,
she rose from the ashes—quite literally—and became one of the
most beloved monarchs in Austreim’s history.”
Liora’s eyes light up with enthusiasm.
“Exactly! A perfect summary. Cinderella’s story is not merely one
of transformation but of resilience. She embodies the idea that even
in the face of adversity, one’s character and kindness can change
the course of destiny.”
The class murmurs in agreement, and Liora
takes the opportunity to elaborate. “This year, we will explore the
lives of figures like Cinderella and many others. We will dissect
their choices, their triumphs, and yes, even their mistakes. For
history is not perfect, nor are the people within it. But through
understanding, we find inspiration.”
His words weave a spell over the room,
drawing everyone in, even those who seemed disinterested moments ago.
He speaks briefly about the syllabus, mentioning projects,
reenactments, and debates that will make the class as immersive as
possible. His passion is contagious, and you find yourself leaning
forward, hanging onto every word.
By the time the bell rings, you’re almost
disappointed that the lesson has come to an end. Liora dismisses the
class with a cheerful reminder to bring an open mind and a curious
heart to every session.
As you and Rune gather your things, Fibble
clicks his beak in approval. “Well, at least one teacher here knows
how to hold an audience,” he mutters, though his usual sarcasm is
tempered with genuine admiration.
Rune nudges you with his elbow, his grin
returning. “Not bad for a first class, huh? I think I’m actually
looking forward to this.”
As the two of you file out with the rest of
the students, you can’t help but feel the same. Lorecraft, it
seems, is going to be anything but dull.
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