Three knocks interrupted Vel's work on a spell modification. He closed the interface with a thought.
"Coming," he called.
A caretaker stood at his door holding a brown paper package. "Your Academy uniform, sir."
"Thank you." Vel took the surprisingly light package and unwrapped it at his desk.
Inside lay his Academy uniform: a navy blue jacket with white trim, matching trousers, and a short mantle designed to drape over the shoulders. The formal white shirt came with a collar and bowtie that extended downward in the Academy's distinctive style.
Vel held up the uniform, admiring it for a moment before trying it on. The fit was perfect—they'd taken his measurements after that session with Instructor Lyvenna. As he adjusted the mantle across his shoulders, his fingers brushed against something that made him pause.
A patch had been sewn onto the right shoulder—an emblem depicting a swirling cloud in silver thread against a darker background. The stylized design was unmistakable in its meaning, marking him clearly as an unstable attunement student.
Vel ran his fingers over the embroidery. He stepped back, examining his appearance. The reflection that stared back at him looked the part of an Academy student, yet that single emblem carried weight, setting him apart.
"They think they understand what this cloud means," he murmured, touching the patch again. "Instability. Divided potential. Magic that will never reach its fullest expression."
But if his theory about Chaos attunement was correct, the Academy had misunderstood everything. This wasn't a mark of weakness but of potential they couldn't yet comprehend.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Young Master?" Hileya's voice came through the door. "I've brought your tea."
"Come in," he called, still facing the mirror.
Hileya entered with a small tray, which she nearly dropped when she saw him in the uniform.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening. "Your Academy uniform arrived."
"Just now," Vel confirmed, turning to face her properly.
She set down the tray and approached, her eyes taking in every detail of the uniform with that quiet observance that seemed to miss nothing. A light blush spread across her cheeks.
"You look presentable, like a true gentleman," she said softly, tilting her head slightly. "May I?"
She gestured toward his collar, which had twisted slightly when he put on the uniform.
"Of course," Vel replied, not entirely sure what she intended.
Hileya stepped closer, her fingers reaching for his collar. With practiced movements, she straightened the fabric and adjusted how it sat against his neck. Her hands moved to his shoulders next, tugging the short mantle into perfect alignment.
"The Academy expects precise presentation," she explained, smoothing down the front of his jacket. "Servants at noble houses are taught how proper attire should be worn."
Her face was only inches from his now as she concentrated on her task. Vel felt heat rising to his cheeks. The light scent of soap and lavender reached him—clean and pleasant. The proximity of a young woman fixing his clothes created an unexpected intimacy he hadn't anticipated. Something about the scene felt strangely domestic—like what he imagined married couples might experience.
"Your tie needs adjustment," Hileya said, her fingers working at his neck.
"This emblem..." she said, her fingers pausing at the cloud patch on his shoulder. "This marks your classification?"
"Yes," Vel managed, his voice slightly tight. "Unstable attunement."
Hileya stepped back to examine her work. "Lady Halen mentioned Academy classifications, but I didn't realize they would be so... visible."
"The Academy wants everyone to know who belongs where," Vel said, removing the jacket.
"Will it cause trouble for you?" Hileya asked, her voice soft with concern.
"Perhaps. But sometimes being underestimated is an advantage."
A knowing smile spread across her face. "I understand that feeling well. As a servant, especially a half-elf one, people rarely think twice about my presence. They speak freely around me, share secrets they wouldn't dare voice in front of equals."
Vel watched her graceful movements as she collected the tea things. He remembered how naturally she'd taken to Celia's dagger techniques—steady hands, precise movements, unexpectedly light footwork.
An image formed in his mind again: Hileya slipping through shadows, hearing whispers meant to remain secret, her dagger concealed beneath those modest servant clothes. If she continued training, built on her natural aptitude...
"You know," Vel said thoughtfully, "you have remarkable potential as more than just a maid."
Hileya paused, her hand hovering over the teapot. "What do you mean?"
"The way you moved during training yesterday. Your balance, your precision—" Vel gestured with his hands, trying to capture what he'd observed. "In game terms—I mean, in theoretical terms—you'd make an excellent infiltrator."
Her eyes widened slightly. "An infiltrator?"
"Someone who can blend in anywhere, gather information without being noticed," Vel clarified quickly. "Who can defend herself if necessary, but whose greatest strength is that no one sees her as a threat."
A curious expression crossed Hileya's face—something between surprise and satisfaction.
"Is that how you see me?" she asked, her voice neither offended nor pleased, simply curious.
Vel considered his words carefully. "I see someone with potential that others have overlooked. Someone who could be more than what others expect, if she wanted to be."
Hileya's expression shifted, her eyes widening before her gaze dropped to the floor. For a moment, she remained silent, her hands gripping the edge of the serving tray.
"I'll do my best to meet your expectation," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. The formal tone had returned, but there was something different in it now—a quiet determination that hadn't been there before.
Vel watched her, suddenly concerned that his casual observation had placed an unintended burden on her. "Hileya, I didn't mean to—"
"No," she interrupted, looking up at him with newfound resolve in her eyes. "No one has ever seen potential in me before. I've always been just... a servant girl. Half-elf. Someone to be tolerated but never truly seen."
She straightened her posture slightly, squaring her shoulders in a way that reminded Vel of how she'd stood during their training session—alert, balanced, ready.
"At Lady Halen's manor," she continued, "I was assigned the simplest tasks because no one believed I could handle more responsibility. They watched me carefully, expecting mistakes."
Her fingers unconsciously drifted to where her concealed dagger rested against her thigh.
"But you've treated me differently from the beginning. You've offered me choices, taught me to defend myself, spoken to me as a person rather than a possession."
Vel noticed a slight shimmer in her eyes, but her voice remained steady.
"If you believe I have potential for more... then I want to discover what that might be."
The sincerity in her voice made Vel pause. He hadn't intended his casual observation to mean so much, yet clearly it had sparked something in her—a desire to expand beyond the limitations others had placed on her.
"I know what it's like to be underestimated," Vel said gently. "To have others decide what you're capable of before you've had the chance to discover it yourself."
He thought of his own situation—once someone who understood this world's underlying mechanics, now labeled as magically deficient.
But perhaps that label would prove useful. If wearing this cloud patch gave him access to Instructor Lyvenna and the other unstable students, it might be exactly where he needed to be to uncover the truth.
The uniform hadn't merely arrived—it had confirmed his path forward. And perhaps, in his own way, he had done the same for Hileya.
A rapid knocking interrupted their conversation, followed by Celia's energetic voice from the hallway.
"Vel! You in there?"
Vel and Hileya exchanged a quick glance. The half-elf gathered her tray with practiced efficiency, smoothly transitioning back into her formal role.
Vel opened the door as Hileya retreated to a respectful distance behind him.
Celia burst into the room, practically bouncing with excitement. She wore the female Academy uniform—a navy blue jacket with white trim that curved at the waist, paired with a knee-length pleated skirt and the formal extended bowtie. What immediately caught Vel's attention was the unique mantle draped over only her left shoulder, leaving her right arm completely free. A polished rapier hung at her waist.
"Wow, it looks perfect on you," Vel said, genuine admiration in his voice. "Like a true duelist."
Celia beamed. She performed a practiced spin, the mantle flowing gracefully before settling back into place.
"You think so?" She drew her rapier in one fluid motion, the blade gleamed the morning light. "They call it the duelist variant."
She executed a quick series of thrusts, her movements precise and controlled. The asymmetrical design clearly allowed for greater mobility—particularly for her dominant arm.
"I couldn't believe they had specialized versions! The Academy really does think of everything." She sheathed her weapon with practiced ease. "But yours looks good too, even with that... interesting patch."
Her eyes fixed on the emblem marking Vel as an unstable attunement student. There was a hint of concern in her expression, but she masked it quickly behind another smile.
Vel straightened his jacket, meeting her gaze directly. "Different patches for different classifications."
Celia stepped closer, reaching out to touch the cloud emblem with her fingertips. "It's one thing to separate us into different classes, but to mark us like this... It's not fair. They're judging you before they've even given you a chance."
Her fierce loyalty made him smile, but he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's alright, Celia. Remember what Instructor Lyvenna said—I could have transferred to the standard classes if I wanted to."
"Then why didn't you?" Celia's eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"Because I think there's something more to these 'unstable attunements' than the Academy realizes," he said carefully. "And I won't discover what that is by joining the standard classes."
Celia studied him for a moment, her head tilted slightly. "You have a theory, don't you?"
Vel grinned. She knew him too well. "Perhaps."
"And you're not going to tell me what it is," she concluded with a dramatic sigh.
"Not until I'm more certain," Vel admitted.
"I hate that we'll be in different classes," Celia finally said, her voice quieter than usual. "After everything we've been through together, it feels wrong to be split up now."
"We'll still see each other," Vel reassured her. "Different classes doesn't mean we can't spend time together outside of lessons."
Behind them, Hileya quietly busied herself with straightening the already-immaculate bedspread, giving them the illusion of privacy while remaining at her post.
"I know, but..." Celia's hand moved unconsciously to her own shoulder emblem. "I'm worried about how others will treat you."
Her eyes flashed with protective fire as she added, "If anyone says a word against you because of that patch, they'll have me to deal with."
Vel laughed. "I don't doubt it for a second. Poor Lysithea Fairwind already learned that lesson."
Celia winced slightly at the reminder of her confrontation with the noble girl. "That was different. She insulted the orphanage."
Vel watched as she straightened, squaring her shoulders beneath her asymmetrical mantle. The uniform transformation was remarkable—gone was the uncertain orphan girl, replaced by someone who looked like she belonged in the Academy's hallowed halls.
Celia smiled, her hand resting on the rapier's hilt with natural confidence. The weapon seemed to belong there, an extension of her rather than a mere accessory.
"Tomorrow, then," she said, almost to herself. "Everything really begins."
The gravity of those words settled over Vel. Indeed, tomorrow would mark the true beginning of their Academy journey—a path that would lead them through knowledge, challenge, and quite possibly danger. But standing there with Celia, both dressed in their new uniforms despite their different emblems, Vel felt ready to face whatever came next.
"Tomorrow," he echoed in agreement.