The halls were quieter than I remembered.
Was it due to me ditching the wheelchair that it was quiet, or maybe it was always this way.
Clicking my school rang softly through the empty halls. Each step of mine is like a drop of water on a still lake.
The warm sun filled the halls guiding me to my place of arrival. The large arched windows of stained glass displayed picturesque portraits of gods along the neutral walls.
My steps were slow… deliberate. Not because I was fearful of my classmates' reactions.
It didn't seem real. The way my weighted footsteps placed themselves on the open floor. The quiet clack of the material being pressed against the hard floor.
Familiar, yet... wrong.
I stood alone in this hall. I carried myself with my own feet.
A grace given by something far from my reach but I would never complain about the second chance I was given.
Saint academy lived up to its name when it came to academics. They separated us like livestock, filtering us by desirable traits they wanted. The schedule was split amongst five classes based on your skills. They lived in strict classes. Those who were graded as S class talents were given the best treatment. They were given the best instructors lessons, books, and another luxury one could want for academy life.
However, anyone else was just left with the scraps.
Now that leads to my point. I am bottom of the barrel, the C tier.
They were just slotted into whatever classes fit them. They were less of a class and more the stragglers that showed no outstanding abilities and were for the most part stuck taking core classes and if one was lucky they could be slotted into a class with those of the higher classes.
My classes were as follows.
Morning History – Required for all students, covering the legacy of Pathbearers, divine wars, and noble conquests. Taught by Professor Halden.
Alchemy Theory – Intermediate lab studies under Valerie, which was my favorite class.
Martial Application – Reserved for combat-track nobles. While at one point was, once excluded, is now eligible due "miraculous" recovery..
Rest / Recovery Block – A quiet hour, mostly used by wounded or lesser-ranked students.
Lunch
I followed the twisting corridors, finally making it to a slightly populated hallway that my first class was in.
As I approached I felt as if the door was looming over me, large and slightly menacing.
Through the frosted pane I could make out silhouettes, they were dispersed through the classroom, sparsely as class didn't start for another five-ish minutes.
The chatter was quiet barely over a whisper, closer to a feverish buzzing then a hearable conversation.
I'm sure they weren't going to be expecting this..
I took the handle in my hand and opened the door .
The room fell quiet the moment I stepped inside.
The once buzzing conversation had turned into a disturbing silence. Not even the sound of a pen could be heard scribbling last second notes.
I am sure the faces of my classmates would have been at least slightly humorous, but I didn't feel like entertaining their curiosity..
I simply kept my head down and walked.
Quietly, the sound of my footsteps following me.
Moving toward the far-left corner desk I could hear inklings of whispers breaking out among the class.
I took my rightful place at my desk. The same desk is reserved for me out of pity, or disgust. It had been my rightful home, reserved for the "talentless cripple" as one of my classmates had so eloquently put last semester.
My back flush against the chair, I moved the history book from my burdened arm and placed it on top of the desk.
Then I turned my face upward toward the growing noise in the classroom..
Many of the people were directly staring at me like I was some circus act.
I saw a girl in the back whisper something to her friend, and she dropped her pen supposedly in shock.
One boy ahead of me was slack-jawed looking as if he was trying to catch a fly in his mouth.
One student, a member of one of the few noble houses that were in this class, decided to be direct with his bewilderment, "You were crippled," he said, not trying to be discreet in the slightest. "What the hell happened?"
I didn't feel the need to respond.
In fact there would never be an answer that would be satisfactory for everyone so why bother?
Thankfully the noble turned back facing the door as footsteps rang from the hallway.
Slowly they got louder before pausing, it wasn't a long pause as it was interrupted when the classroom door creaked open again only seconds later.