Misunderstanding
In the end, that night, having failed to find a solution no matter how long I wracked my brain, I simply showed up to the Academy as usual. Every line of thought I chased only burned time, nothing more.
But today, something about the Academy's atmosphere was off. It had never been a quiet place, exactly, but it had never been this rowdy either — least of all in the morning, when everyone's energy was at its lowest ebb. And yet the students' mouths showed no sign of stopping. If anything, the chatter was only picking up speed.
"Did you hear? The Church..."
"Rumor has it the Empire sent a special task force..."
"Guess they got sore about the priests being monopolized..."
The stories passing from mouth to mouth were, almost all of them, about the Church's assault. Fortunately, not a whisper of me moved among them — the Church seemed to be guarding my secret well, and I breathed easier for it. The Saintess was absent too, so the funeral was likely still underway back at the Church. Nothing about the Church itself particularly weighed on my mind, though. What drew my interest was an entirely different story.
"Oh, come to think of it... I think I heard the elf princess is coming to the Academy...?"
"That arrogant race?"
"Something about deepening their exchange with the Empire, they say..."
A race dwelling in the Great Forest. Immensely arrogant, with pointed ears and breathtaking beauty regardless of gender.
Having lived within the forest from birth, they hold a profound attachment to nature. One need only watch them enshrine trees, calling them sacred, to understand their devotion to the natural world.
Their eyes are exceptionally keen — a trait of their race — making them master archers, and their magical prowess is every bit as superb. Their spirit magic, above all, remains a subject of study for mages everywhere.
To a mage who burns mana on every spell cast, a spirit that rains down magic the moment it is summoned is an experimental subject well worth the research. What's more, spirits refuse to so much as glance at any creature lacking a deep bond with nature — they will not even show themselves. That elves live alongside them, behold their forms, and hold conversations with them is precisely what makes the race so remarkable.
Even setting all of that aside, merely glimpsing an elf was a rarity in itself. They were so devoted to nature that they spurned the products of civilization as though they had raised a stone monument vowing never to engage with the outside world. Naturally, their ventures beyond the forest were exceedingly rare — but this time was different. Elves were no fools. They had realized that rejecting civilization meant stagnating forever, and at last they resolved to open exchange with the Empire: their knowledge and magic offered freely, and in return, the wisdom of civilization flowing back to them.
So these days you might spot an elf on the street once in a great while — but it was never, ever common. Even now their people remained split between factions for and against accepting civilization; that is how deeply they shunned it. All the more so, then, that a chance to see an elf of exalted rank — a princess, no less — could be counted on one hand. And so the Academy had filled, in an instant, to the brim with talk of elves and nothing else.
"I heard the rumors too, but... was that today?"
"Yes. If we could bring her into our group..."
Some schemed to fold the elf princess into their circle, forge a connection by any means necessary, and skim the profits.
"An elf, hm... I wonder — is her beauty fine enough to offer her a place as my concubine?"
"If only I could acquire an elf man who would listen to me and me alone..."
Others amused themselves with fantasies that no beauty, however sublime, could ever fulfill.
"There has to be a way to get my hands on one of their bows..."
"If only I could learn their spirit magic..."
And then there were the studious sorts, desperate to learn whatever strengths belonged to the elves alone. Naturally, I belonged to none of these camps. Entangling myself with someone of royal elven blood and getting dragged into yet another mess? I would pass. I had no room in my head for such things at the moment anyway.
At last the door swung open, and in came Professor Bruce, our newly appointed instructor — with a presence as fresh as spring greenery trailing behind him.
Every student's attention converged on her, and she received it as though long accustomed to such stares. Hair that gleamed like polished jade and skin like white porcelain; pointed ears that proclaimed her anything but human. Long lashes swept out beneath cool, level eyes, and her green irises — kin to her hair — glittered like an orb no treasure in the world could replace. The bow strapped across her back gave off an unmistakable aura of power, and though her Academy uniform was identical to ours, on her it dazzled all the same.
While the male students had their gazes stolen away and the female students answered with glares of envy, Professor Bruce yawned behind his massive hand and rapped the desk with the other. The desk began to boom beneath his blunt fingers, and for the briefest moment, every eye turned to him.
"Quiet. All of you, quiet for now."
"........"
His thick, low voice rolled through the classroom, and not one student was fool enough to open their mouth. Small wonder — Professor Bruce was a powerhouse who had walked out of a high-rank Gate alive. Some condemned him as a coward who had simply survived alone, but anyone with sense understood how difficult it was to come out of a high-rank Gate at all. Why he had taken up teaching was unknown, though the prevailing guess involved some contact with the Chairwoman. In other words, even if he was no Archmage, he was a man who would be received with deference wherever he went. When a man like that told a room to be quiet, no fool alive would dream of disobeying.
Only then, with the classroom finally settled, did the presence that had waited so quietly speak.
"A pleasure. Sylvia Restonil — that is my name."
Truly an arrogant — and remarkably brief — introduction. It was so short that Bruce actually asked whether she had nothing more to add; she shook her head as if to say she didn't.
"Well, seeing as the rumors have mostly spread on their own, I'll say it plainly: from today on, she is the elf princess who will be living and studying here in this class."
"Gasp..!"
"Sh...she really is a princess."
Leaving the stunned students behind, Bruce told her to sit wherever she pleased, and Sylvia gave a small nod. The instant that simple introduction ended, a tide of students surged toward her.
"Um, excuse me — do you use something special for your skin...?"
"Such a stunning face..."
Some drew near simply bewitched by her beauty.
"Lady Sylvia? Might you consider acting together with us...?"
"Lady Sylvia, you simply must pay a visit to our family estate sometime..."
"Do have tea with us..."
But most of them were angling to pull her into their circles and squeeze out whatever advantage they could. Of course, my gaze drifted to her as well — not out of any interest in her, but because of the things floating around her.
...What are those things?
[Teehee!]
[Teeheehee─]
Drifting about her were a small, adorable girl in blue, and a boy mottled in green and earthen brown. It was a mystical enough scene on its own — but stranger still was that not one person around her paid the pair any attention. Even though they were more than worthy of a second look.
As I went on staring at the two figures floating in the air, I felt a gaze settle on me from somewhere. I followed it — and found a pair of green eyes looking straight back at me. Wide, rounded eyes, at that.
"...."
...What is this?
For whatever reason, the elf was boring her stare straight through me — surrounded by that entire crowd, no less. I did my best to ignore it, rose from my seat, and left. Her gaze stayed pinned on me until I stepped out the back door, and that oppressive stare never let go through the rest of the day's classes.
Only when my final class ended did her gaze at last lift away, and I thought I could finally breathe.
"Professor, I'm afraid I don't know where my assigned dormitory is."
That is, until she opened her mouth.
"Is that so. Someone ought to show you..."
"I would like to choose my own guide."
"Hm? Got someone you've taken a fancy to?"
Bruce meant it half in jest, but Sylvia nodded with complete seriousness. A few students let out whistles; other boys swelled with confidence and suddenly couldn't stop running their hands through their hair. The girls watched with eyes brimming with curiosity, and even those who'd been glaring at her in jealousy cocked their ears, faintly interested despite themselves.
Beneath the weight of every gaze in the room, she began to walk, one step at a time — and with each step, hope and heartbreak rippled through the crowd. The boy who'd been certain he would be chosen stopped fussing with his hair; the one who had never dared hope found himself hoping all over again as she drew near.
On and on her footsteps carried her, never stopping — until at last they...
stopped in front of me.
"You will guide me, if you would."
...Fuck.
Naturally, the backlash was vicious. Practically every male student in the room was on his feet.
"That guy is the Academy's infamous lecher!!"
"I...I was nearly toyed with by that man myself..!"
"Lady Sylvia, not a scoundrel like him — allow me the honor of serving you..."
Countless male students rose up against her choice, and female students I had never once seen before materialized out of thin air, claiming I had sexually harassed them. For a man desperately hunting an excuse to refuse her, it was a godsend of an opening. She would not budge.
"I want this man to guide me."
"Ghh...khh, damn it!!"
"Tch. It's always the face, isn't it..."
And so I found myself walking the women's dormitory corridor, alone with Princess Sylvia. The female students around us seared me with their stares — but what was I supposed to do about that? I had no intention of lingering here, either. I quickened my pace, planning to show her the way and hurry straight back to my own dorm — until someone seized my wrist from behind.
"Wait. I have something to ask."
"...?"
"Are you, perhaps..."
I couldn't tell where she was going with it, but she stalled a long moment, confirmed that no one was nearby, and only then opened her mouth.
"Are you, by any chance, a half-elf?"
"....?"