In an atypical lecture hall, with rows upon rows of seating arrangements in the shape of a semicircle around the main stage.
Numerous enthusiastic and relatively disinterested students intently listened to the only source of sound in the entire place. The hall itself, as expected from a lecture hall, had a pitched floor with the more front row seats being of a lower elevation than the ones at the back so that all students may clearly see the lecturer.
The lecturer himself was a handsome man in his 30s, with bright green eyes and slicked back light blonde hair. He wore a navy scholar coat, white gloves, black boots and pants. He walked about, jotting something on the board behind him with chalk. A relatively old and more traditional way of detail.
But then again, that wasn't the only thing old and regal about the place.
Chairs and tables made of dark furnished wood, ground covered in a damp red carpet, multiple chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and an overall 'Victorian' style to boot. The students there didn't disappoint either, while varying in age, most of them stood out in their own rights, wearing regal dresses and suits.. Of course, there were those that wore modern clothing too, but they seemed to be rather isolated.
The professor in question, seemed to be speaking about things the common man would consider naught but fiction and unrealistic claims, "In most cases, a medium for evocation....."
One thing did however, stand out like a sore thumb even in this serene, in a certain corner of the hall. On a seat relatively to the middle, in a completely inconspicuous position, a young man that looked to be about 20, sat with an annoying smile on his face, his head resting in one hand as he lightly tapped against the table with the other.
The young man himself was anything but inconspicuous, light black hair parted from the middle and yellow eyes... or eye, one was covered by a dark eyepatch. Relatively tall, with a broad stature and a healthily coloured skin, he dressed in a Victorian style grey suit and a cane lay against his seat, possibly his own.
While regal and noble in everything, the truth of the matter was that the eyepatch wasn't there just as an accessory, it was there because he didn't have an eye underneath.
Born with one eye and a partially defunct leg, Roman Trambelio was pretty much the shame of the Trambelio Family. Born to the head of the Trambelio Family, McDonnel Trambelio Elrod, much was expected of the man only, he was born a cripple, walking with the help of a cane. He had excellent magic circuits, inherited from his father but his talent in magecraft itself was mediocre at best, taking relatively longer to learn even the basics of the craft.
Of course he was the shame of the noble and old magus line, the Trambelio were the leaders of one of three major factions in the Clocktower, the headquarters of the Mage's Association. The governing body of all magus, magecraft and magic related matters in the world.
For the one and only son of the clan head to be a cripple and not even the slightest bit talented in magecraft had earned him the disdain and ire of many magi. They were after all, an elitist, aristocratic and traditionally old people for the most part.
Well... not that all that quite bothered Roman. Sure he was treated like shit but at least he wasn't just discarded. He knew full well that was a possibility, as a reincarnator, he did hold some advantages... mainly related to knowledge but well, his current treatment may as well have been what magus considered 'discarding' someone... Couldn't really be sure..
And as for being shit at magecraft... Even Roman didn't get the why of that, performing the necessary preparations and rituals only resulted in meagre results..... He was a bit ashamed of it but he had memorised most of the theoretical part when he still did care about proving himself to his family.... The Heir of the family would probably be one of his many sisters, not someone like him.
Regardless, Roman huffed.
He'd been here for a good long while now and it had taken a toll on his mentality after he accepted his new reality, he didn't really care anymore.
The teenager was, however, brought out of his idle musings... Yes, he considered this class completely useless and only attended as a formality.. We digress, he was brought out of his musings by someone tapping his shoulder.
Looking over with a small hum, "Oh.. sup." He slightly waved his hand, the one eye closing as a smile formed on his face.
"Roman, you really should pay attention. Lord Kayneth will notice." Black hair that reached his neck, a thin stature, relatively short, that was Waver Velvet. One of the few things Roman did remember from when he watched this world as fiction.... What? People forget stuff over time and he wasn't quite gifted when it came to memory.
Anyway, he was a nice kid from a relatively new family and didn't really look down on him much... Well, relatively speaking of course. Everyone looks down on a cripple.
Roman felt cheated at the start thinking about his strange circumstances but soon learned it was a good trade. Something he'd never forget had taken his leg and eye, an endless swirl that threatened to disperse his very being if he stared too long.... But, stare he did and it took some part of his soul as the price.
In a world like fate, where the body moulded according to the soul inhabiting it. That made him a permanent cripple, healing wouldn't work for his very soul was eaten away. Nor would changing bodies. God knew his father had tried, hiring the best of the best to heal him.... Only for it to end in complete and utter failure.
Again however, he was getting carried away in his musings.
"Man don't be such a wuss."
"...Easy for you to say." Waver muttered under his breath, his companion was a weird one. Did he not understand that his laxness was a luxury only someone with his lineage could afford?
The two's conversation however, was interrupted as soon as it had started by snicker emanating from right behind.
"Look it's the cripple." Some rando whose name Roman couldn't be bothered to remember mocked him openly.
"Yes, the same cripple you stare at every single day. Say something new you generic fuck." Roman Trambelio had a rather sharp tongue.
Waver sighed, this would just spiral down now.
"What did you do last night? Fall down the stairs I presume." Once more, stifled giggles and laughs could be heard.
"Strange, I thought you'd have heard your mother with the way she was screaming."
It is said again, that Roman Trambelio had a very sharp tongue... The shit eating grin on his face didn't help either.
Before the student could retaliate however,
"Mr. Roman, please don't cause another commotion." The voice of the professor, Lord Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, cut the conversation short. His voice was haughty and confident, carrying a mocking tone... He had the right to it though, being the youngest ever to reach the rank of Brand as a Magus... With ranks going from, Grand>Brand>Pride>Fes>Cause>Count and lastly Frame... Coincidentally, Frame was also the rank the disappointment of the Trambelio had... Each rank being based on individual capability as a magus.
The hall went silent once more, under the powerful voice of Kayneth, none dared to even speak..... But, the Lord's smile turned crooked ever so slightly as Waver huffed. Sometimes the teen pitied Roman with how everyone liked to take a jab at him every chance they got... Perhaps that was why he was sticking around him.
"Right right, no need to get all hot and bothered." Roman waved one hand in dismissal, sighing with a 'helpless' smile etched on his face.
Lord Kayneth 'sighed' at his words, ".... I suppose such roughness is to be expected of one neglected by his parents."
Another round of stifled laughter followed with Kayneth revelling in the moment with closed eyes.
Waver slightly shivered seeing the shit eating grin now forming on his friend's face, he really needed to learn when to back down.
"Oh you'd know all about that now wouldn't you?"
His being slightly crippled wasn't the only thing that made others disdain him.... but then again, Roman too refused to try hard to gain their approval as a 'challenged person' anymore.
The professor's face turned red in a mixture of anger and embarrassment, the low laughter didn't help in calming the man and he hit the board, a loud bang putting a stop to all other sounds followed.
Taking a hold of his pitch black cane, Roman stood up with a slight grunt and using it to support himself, walked towards one of the doors with a slight limp in his step.