Nestled high up within a bed of clouds was an island, its underbelly glowing with the vibrance of numerous arcane runes and inscriptions. Most visible during the peak of daylight, a mountain peak jutting from the sky–the largest natural formation of draumadite on the Waylurne Continent. It was upon this majestic hovering rock that Luveris Academy laid its foundation. 

In the city grounded just below, this marvelous sight would fill the people with a deep sense of admiration and awe. At the same time, there was a different group of people there that held an equal amount of wonder at but a mere piece of bronze, small enough to fit within the palm of one’s hand. 

Around the city’s slums, scrounging for scraps, dirt-born children look up at the floating academy with a momentary glance and squint, as anyone would at the sun, before bringing their gazes back to their feet planted on the ground. For them, it was better to work hard to fill their stomachs rather than to keep aspiring to fly without wings—needless longing would only burn them out.

Roa Fariche once felt the same, as he himself tasted nothing but dirt growing up. Only, what changed for the young boy was that he had the fortune of coming across an odd looking coin... 

“Ha! This looks expensive! Lucky day! Lucky day! Thanks, old man!” 

Upon discovering that the odd looking coin was supposedly a token for enrollment, he took his time and deliberated, “Should I sell this? Or should I try my hand at the academy? Hm… Magic huh?”

With a twang, he flipped the coin into the air and landed on a decision. A simple act of a coin toss. This was what had set the course for the life of the unwitting kid from the slums.

***

A hundred miles of air in between, below the floating Luveris Academy was Lyria, the capital city of the Kingdom of Luveris. The days following the secondary assessment, Roa descended from the sky and took to the paved streets, planting his feet back on solid ground.

There was a downtime to the academy’s enrollment process. The applicants had to spend some time within the capital before returning to the academy. To make the most of this short break, Roa decided to use the chance to roam around and get used to his juvenile physique.

Around this time, other applicants also littered the surroundings. It was easy to separate them from the normal folk, as they were required to wear a white shirt and gray tie at all times. Only when they were full-fledged students were they given colored ties..

Stall owners and shopkeepers were eager to open up their businesses to the gray ties as this break in the enrollment period was an opportune moment to earn some Mir—the currency commonly used throughout the Waylurne Continent.

At a certain rustic restaurant, the boisterous conversations of numerous youths made for a lively evening atmosphere. Most knew nothing of their companions, where each other had come from, nor of their backgrounds. The only thing most of them had in common was a white shirt and gray tie.

A gathering place like this was ideal for these youths to make friends and acquaintances before entering the academy, and a suitable place for young noblemen to flaunt their parents’ wealth.

At one table, a shifty young man who sat beside the only gray tie adorned with a lavish coat, boastfully spoke aloud, “My fellow students, listen to me! Eat your fill! No need to be shy! Know that my young master Novis Philitte will foot the bill!” 

Pleasant cheers passed about. The bulk of those who entered the academy with legitimate means weren’t short on cash, but a gesture of goodwill was always welcomed. A show of generosity like this easily earned good favor for when they finally went inside the academy.

That said, there would still be those very few that found it hard to survive the high living costs of the capital. Along with attending the academy, they would have to find means of paying for their daily living expenses. 

Young nobles who throw mir around so casually like this, instead of gaining favor with the ones born with dirt in their mouths, drew their ire. It was always these sorts of young nobles that one such plebeian enjoyed ripping off.

That plebeian–no, a certain young man shouted, “Heh! Many thanks, distinguished young noble!” 

The students around the table were startled as a large stack of wooden plates landed on their table—each plate appearing to have been licked clean, enough to be mistaken as newly washed.

“Huh? The audacity! Who left this stack of plates here!?” The students were just about to finish eating, but while the shifty young man spoke of his master paying, the plates had suddenly appeared out of thin air. They were aware that something was amiss.

“Don’t mind it everyone. I’ve seen a few cheeky rats taking advantage of a situation. There will always be people like that.” The young noble, Novis Philitte, patted the shoulders of his livid companions, while he himself held back his frown.

He paid the issue no more attention and headed for the counter to settle the bill, but furrowed his brow in annoyance as he was suddenly asked to pay for quite an exorbitant amount.

“What’s this? We only had a small dinner, why am I paying for a banquet?” he asked the owner manning the counter.

“—Whole-fry Jacks, Oven-roasted Sheal, Braised Ssalmot, Osks’ Brain Stew…” the owner cited a long list of dishes before stating a disheartening price, “—all amounting to 14,110 mir.”

‘Aren’t these all exotic dishes? Who in the right mind would order those if someone else was paying!?’ Novis cursed silently in his head. The assortment listed were food he himself would only get to eat during special occasions. Although he wasn’t lacking financially, he found it incredibly irksome to have been taken advantage of. 

He continued, “Are you sure that was our order? Neither me nor my companions have ordered these!”

“A-apologies! Let us check again, sir.”  

For the more specialized dishes, each plate had a different mark underneath to indicate the order. The owner signaled for a waiter to check the dishes at their table. When the waiter returned, the orders were recited but none of them were changed.

“Those plates weren’t even ours! Does this establishment not account for such a simple con!?” No longer calm, the young noble protested in a loud voice, which drew the attention of everyone in the room.

“Sir!” The owner’s expression changed with the young noble’s outburst, ”The gentleman who added to your bill said that you’d pay for it, and indeed, your companion announced that you would. You didn’t even complain when I saw he added his plates and sat amongst your company and continued to eat.”

“H-He what!? Is he still here!? Outrageous!” The young noble snapped his head towards their table and spotted a single deserted chair on the corner. ‘Who dares!? Who dares take this noble for a fool!?

The young noble, Novis Philitte, clenched his fists in anger. The person was gone!

“S-Sir. Your bill?” The owner of the restaurant rubbed his hands nervously, the bill was no small amount. If the noble were to insist, she would have to pay it out of her own pocket.

“Bah! If I said I would pay for it, then I will!” Novis replied, unable to hide his irritation.

He clicked his tongue and reached for his pocket, deciding that his displeasure was best saved for the culprit. However, when he grabbed for his mir pouch, his subsiding anger erupted once more.

Novis took out his hand from his pocket, covered in a gooey substance, and trembling with rage. The owner immediately recognized what was dripping down from his palm.

“Osks’ Brain Stew…” she muttered, wondering how eccentric the young noble was to ruin his lavish coat by pocketing their dish.

Meanwhile, a ways away from the vicinity of the restaurant, a small, adorned bag that had exactly the same features as the noble’s mir pouch clinked heavily as it was tossed into the air and fell back into Roa Fariche’s hand. —A full belly; enough expenses to last two months if used sparingly; Roa was humming a tune to his good mood.