The air was crisp with morning dew and thick with apprehension.
Elyas, Cenric and Alexander walked down Whitiker Road heading toward the main campus alongside a throng of many other first-year students.
The cobblestone road he had trudged last night turned out to be the main street that connected all the Academy buildings - Whitiker Road - named after Matheson Whitiker, one of the noble Progenitors who led the early expeditions in the Celestial Realm.
He was also the founder of House Whitiker, which harboured the most vassal houses in the Union and the Terranian Empire, with their only close competitors being House Octavious, House Yorukami, and House Al-Amawi.
Elyas was still getting used to the extravagant robe he was wearing; it had a commanding and elegant design after all.
It was also made from a really comfortable material, which Cenric had explained was a synthetic blend of Wool and rare Celestial Realm fabrics.
It looked similar to Dr. Melissa's, except that it had a Crimson ribbon rather than a purple one, which indicated his stance as a student, with the number of ribbons dictating which year the student was in.
The Rosendale emblem still declared itself solemnly on his back, and it fluttered majestically all the same.
All in all, Elyas felt like he was the real deal and couldn't stop smiling about it... Well, except for the fact that his shirt still looked stupid beneath all this poshness, but otherwise, he was pleased.
"What are you smiling about?" Cenric asked.
"Do you think these robes would make people clear a path for me out of respect if I walked down a regular street?"
Cenric turned to him and frowned.
"Please don't do that. It is against the rules to wear them outside of the Academy, I hope you know that."
"No, I know, I know."
Cenric sighed in relief.
"Good. Good. So you've finally read the Prospectus?"
Elyas frowned and shook his head.
"Oh no. Not yet... And not anytime soon, really, that thing is chunky."
Cenric rubbed his forehead, while Alexander smothered a chuckle and said in his usual soft and charming tone:
"Goodness, Elyas, you're too much of a breeze for it all."
And as Elyas was about to ask what he meant, a small group of cute girls walking abreast of them started giggling to themselves while sneaking glances at Elyas, disrupting their conversation once again.
They were the third group to notice.
Unfortunately, the bandage covering half of Elyas's face in repulsive pink wasn't hard to miss, so it made him an easy find.
Elyas looked down with a miserable expression because it was getting to him now, and his self-consciousness was gnawing at him horribly.
'...oh man...'
Alexander, too, seemed annoyed at this recurrence, but as usual, the three tried their best to ignore them and continued in another bout of uncomfortable silence.
"Guys," Elyas whispered, "Do you think it'd be better if I took this off?"
Alexander turned to him with a disapproving frown.
"You dare let them provoke you so, and you wish to face the Celestial Realm, my friend?"
"Keep your chin up, Elyas," Cenric added, when he himself was looking all about him concernedly. "The more you show weakness, the more you empower them."
"Sure," Elyas huffed.
They continued down the road until they noticed that it slowly widened and the trees around them thinned once again.
"Here we are," Cenric muttered. "Rosendale at its finest," he exhaled in awe.
There were no more turns and curves, so Elyas glimpsed a grand brick wall ahead with watch towers rising so high that they dwarfed everything around.
Facing them at the end of the road were two great gates opened to reveal a vast square, stretching until the colonnade at the far end of it, of which the main building was erected.
Elyas saw it now.
He saw the true majesty of the place, and it gained a gasp out of him.
With every step they took, the Academy revealed more of itself.
Its countless towers and spires competed for the clouds, each undermining the other until one single point peaked the highest with what Elyas assumed was the Rosendale emblem overseeing all.
And although he knew the true size of the arching windows, from where he stood, they looked so small, like scales that arrayed the numerous Gothic walls, which also seemed never to settle on where to face.
He saw parapets. He saw Turrets. He saw Battlements that connected the intricate human citadel as if it were a city in and of itself.
And what astonished him the most was how they managed to make it all seem so stunningly beautiful. The facades were like a work of art that narrated battles and wars and glorified its heroes.
They were approaching the wall now, and Elyas once again almost fell on his buttocks from their nauseating size.
He saw the Rosendale Guardians for the first time atop the walls, but he couldn't make them out very well from how high up they were.
However, if what he heard from Cenric was correct, then they all wore the same black metallic masks of an unsettlingly impassive human face with the Rosendale emblem instead of the eyes, and a helm from which a long crimson plum drooped down along their backs.
The throng around them was all muttering his thoughts of awe and apprehension, with even the group of girls beside them discussing and admiring the place.
Because who the hell wouldn't?
"Now that's a mighty place, is not, brothers?" Alexander said, staring proudly above.
"Ah, huh," Elyas nodded absentmindedly.
They passed the gates and entered the marble floors of the square.
"Yorukami Square," Cenric mumbled under his breath. "It truly is as vast as they say."
Lining the centre of the square, great marble statues were erected, commemorating the Progenitors in the grandest of poses.
They were all mournful and sad. Some looked above with hints of sorrow in their eyes and their arms outstretched as if pleading with the heavens, whereas others looked down defeatedly, with their hands raised in resignation.
The reason for their sadness was unknown, but everyone assumed the same; it was hard to remember that there was nothing good about all this mess. Because, despite the power, wealth, and glory attained, the Coherent society was still a tragic thing.
Earth had always been content as it was, and though nations had persisted in their never-ending squabbles for resources and power, they never had to face an extinction-level calamity as such.
And humanity itself wasn't remarkable in any way; they only thought they were because they had always been the only ones around.
But now, faced with the adversaries of all the other realms similarly fighting desperately for their own survival, the possibility of perishing loomed ever more pressingly over every Coherent who knew the truth.
The truth that they were not alone.
That they were simply one of many.
So now, with those thoughts suddenly swirling in his head, Elyas found himself mirroring the statues, despondent at their uncertain future.
Between each statue stood a purple-ribboned elder: the professors. They had their arms crossed and their expressions frozen in utmost attention.
'So serious. Everyone is so serious.'
The students initially loitered about the square, unsure of where to go, but then, the professors stepped forward and cried out orders, commanding their orderly assembly.
Elyas, Cenric and Alexander all thought to seek the far edges of the square so as to avoid as much attention as possible.
They scurried to the professor at the very far left, which took them a few minutes, but they eventually got there with time to spare.
She was a middle-aged woman with early crow's feet creasing her face that always seemed to rest with a scowl.
Her hair was cut short to her shoulders, and her voice had a naturally commanding tone laced into it.
"What luck," Elyas sighed.
"Cheer up, friend. The serious ones are always the safest," Alexander said, patting him on the back.
Cenric readjusted his glasses, surveyed his surroundings nervously once more, and stood with them in the yet-to-form line.
The whole square was an assortment of sounds.
Many of the students were still engaging in admiring talks and gossiping, while the frustrated professors tried to subdue them.
There was a bell coming from somewhere, but it was smothered by everything else.
Elyas even glimpsed some students staring reverently at the statues that loomed over them and everything around, with the majority gathering around the statue of Matheson Whitiker, Bloodhorn, and Kindleheart.
Elyas couldn't see them from here, but hoped to check them out later when the hubbub calmed down.
However, he did notice one unsettling thing: the heads of Bloodhorn and Kindleheart were decapitated, clean off the shoulders.