Glynwood Academy Grounds
Sunday, the 21st of the Third Pyric Moon, RY 3418
Dreary summer rains dominated the skies of the Realm's northwestern coast, foreshadowing the end of summer and the encroaching chill of fall, yet above the caldera that housed the Glynwood Institute for Thaumaturgical Studies, the afternoon sun shone as brightly as ever. Such inauspicious weather simply wouldn't do to usher in the new academic year, and it was promptly corrected before the first drop of water fell from the sky. Between the parted clouds, great whirls of Ouranic mana descended before coming to rest in glittering magelights that danced just above the surface of the lake, illuminating the path for the incoming class as they rode the ferry to the campus proper. The nearest town and static teleportation point outside the campus, a quaint little village of humble magi called Pebblebrook, had thankfully enjoyed the protection of Glynwood's sphere of influence against the rain, and it was from here that the young spellcasters of Glynwood's freshman class departed by cart earlier that morning on their ceremonial trek to the Great Gate.
Despite the weariness of travel hanging over the students' heads, exclamations of awe and excitement filled the air as the ferry drew near to the island at last, and all were ushered off the boat and into single-file lines before three makeshift kiosks, each manned with a chipper mage and an enchanted tome to admit the new arrivals and assign them their cohorts. Beyond, a waiting crowd of human staff and golems alike sprung into action as they began the process of transporting student luggage to their new dormitories.
Across the courtyard, upperclassmen spared only a curious glance or two toward the gathering as they trickled in from an enchanted archway to the wide double doors of the feasting hall, mixed in with flashes of sympathy or haughty condescension at the new arrivals that had to walk like commoners. Once past the entryway, the freshman class was led not toward the hall with their more senior peers, but instead into a smaller audience room, decorated finely enough to match any Pontaion nobleman's ballroom. Motes of flame traced lazy circles through the air above, lighting what the magnificent stained glass windows could not. A string quartet's gentle tune carried across the room above the chatter of students and staff alike, originating from a set of rune-etched instruments that levitated in place as they played of their own accord. Tables of refreshments lined the walls, leading to a grand stage at the far end of the room, where several magi stood in idle boredom before commencement of the opening address. Dedicated followers of obscure academia or Glynwood personnel might recognize a few, but only the most isolated could possibly miss the man standing center stage. Second Battlemage Renault Auristel had graced the assembly with his presence, distracted though he might've been in a quiet conversation with a quaintly amused looking blonde woman some might recognize as Vice-Chancellor Victoria Charbeneau.
This fact did not go unnoticed; between the assemblies of Cohorts Seven and Eight, a spirited discussion raged between two chatty students.
"D'you hear that rumor about Professor Charbeneau and Auristel?" The boy from Cohort Eight asked in a conspiratorial stage-whisper, "I didn't believe it, but look at that."
"I dunno," the other student, Blake, answered skeptically before he whirled around to tactlessly accost a nearby young mage with cerulean hair and oversized glasses, "Hey, Theo, are Charbeneau and Auristel fucking?"
The bespectacled mage seemed to wither at the question. "Please don't ask me about his sex life, he's like an older brother to me."
"So yes."
"That is not what I said," Theo bristled in response, but Blake had already turned back to his theorizing.
"Oh, let the boys gossip," a nearby girl chimed in, "It's not true, anyway. Riiiight?"
Unfortunately for her, Theo offered only a weary glare in lieu of a response. Dionysia shrugged innocently and turned her attention back to the stage, where a lanky man with a spring in his step made his way across at last. A sudden silence fell across the room - the music stopped, and the conversation died down to muted whispers almost immediately. Not on the part of the student body, however; anyone still talking would find their voice greatly muffled, even if they were to scream as loud as they could.
"Sorry to interrupt, but I think everyone's arrived, and I'd hate to keep you any longer than I have to," the recent arrival to the stage chirped exuberantly, his voice carrying across the room despite - or perhaps because of - the enchantment acting upon the student body. "I am Chancellor Albrecht Nortwin, and I would like to be among the first to formally welcome you to the Glynwood Institute for Thaumaturgical Studies! For the first in many years, we once again have the honor of hosting students from every corner of our great nation and, as ever, I see before me a sea of potential. I'm sure you've all heard of some changes to our curriculum this year, but make no mistake; our commitment to the education of the Realm's finest minds remains as firm as ever. And, on that note, I'd like to take a moment to thank Second Battlemage Renault Auristel for his generous acceptance to teach at our fine institution."
The rest of the staff members politely clapped as Auristel bowed for the crowd, which provoked swooning looks and thinly-veiled glares from the incoming class in equal measure. This fact didn't seem to go unnoticed by Chancellor Nortwin, whose face slipped into a pensive frown for but a moment before it sprung back to its prior enthusiasm.
"In these tumultuous times, I believe it's more important than ever that we remember the ideals of our founder, Theodoric Glynwood, who urged us to put aside our differences and petty politicking and stand together as magi, that we may build a brighter future for the Republic through education," Nortwin continued, a bit more solemnly than before, "So, when you look upon your classmates and those in your cohorts, I urge you to dwell not upon the conflicts of our past, but on the future that you wish to create instead. Thank you." Once again, the staff politely clapped, along with the majority of the assembled students. It was plain to see from a couple of the faces in the crowd that not everyone found the sentiment of the speech particularly inspiring, and more than a few grumbles of 'necromancer' and 'traitor' could be heard floating around underneath the cacophony of clapping hands.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to come up with another speech for your upperclassmen," the chancellor followed up tactlessly, "Vice-Chancellor Charbeneau, if you would?"
The woman in question merely sighed as Nortwin departed at a hurried pace. Her lips moved as though she had mumbled something, and Auristel barely caught himself from letting out an amused snort as Charbeneau made her way to the front of the stage.
"Thank you, Chancellor. It certainly is hard to follow a speech like that. Students, make sure to see your cohort overseers before you leave for information about your dormitories." As Victoria spoke, several professors descended from the stage, one for each of the assembled cohorts. A bored-looking man with wavy black hair took his place before Cohort Seven, passing a critical glance over the students under his charge before his attention drifted back to Charbeneau.
"Members of the staff will also be standing by to help acquaint you with the campus and answer any questions you may have. You'll find your student handbooks and class schedules already delivered to your rooms. Classes start first thing tomorrow morning, but until then, please feel free to mingle and enjoy yourselves for the rest of the day. Once again, on behalf of all of us here at Glynwood, I'd like to congratulate you all on your acceptance and welcome you to our academy. Thank you."
Upon their dismissal, the crowd dispersed; some eager to be the first to greet their new cohort leaders, others more concerned with the tantalizing spread of food that they'd been so rudely denied upon entry. Whatever magically induced silence had taken hold of the hall before was gone, and the air was once again abuzz with chatter and music.