CHAPTER 54: CHAPTER 54: THE FACULTY’S DILEMMA

The faculty review chamber occupied the highest floor of Astralux Academy’s administrative tower, its arched windows offering a commanding view of the seven sanctums below. Evening shadows stretched across the ornate conference room, where polished mahogany panels reflected the flickering light of enchanted sconces.

The air thrummed with barely contained tension as nearly two dozen professors examined the assessment results spread before them like evidence of some academic catastrophe.

Professor Magnus Thornwick, a bear of a man whose scarred hands spoke of decades spent training warrior-scholars, slammed his fist against the table with enough force to rattle the crystal water goblets. "These physical assessment results must be in error," he declared, his voice carrying the authority of someone accustomed to having his pronouncements accepted without question. "No first-year applicant destroys an S-rank training dummy. Certainly not some... Dra’kesh."

The way he pronounced the final word made it sound like a curse, each syllable dripping with the kind of disdain reserved for things found crawling beneath overturned stones.

Across the table, Professor Seraphina Valdris maintained her composure with the practiced ease of someone who had spent years navigating the treacherous waters of academic politics. Her silver hair was pulled back in an elaborate coiffure that spoke of noble breeding, while her robes bore the subtle embroidery that marked her as a member of one of the kingdom’s more influential magical bloodlines.

"The magical assessment scores show similar... anomalies," she said, her tone carefully modulated to suggest concern rather than outright disbelief. "A Dra’kesh placing ninth overall in magical aptitude? Above students from the most distinguished magical families in the realm?" She gestured delicately toward the assessment scrolls. "Surely there must be some explanation for these irregularities."

Near the head of the table, Professor Edmund Ashcroft sat in contemplative silence, his weathered fingers steepled as he studied the file before him with the intensity of a scholar examining a particularly intriguing ancient text. Unlike his colleagues, Ashcroft’s attention seemed focused not on the student’s racial classification but on the impossible nature of his achievements.

As the Sanctum of Forbidden Knowledge’s most senior researcher, Ashcroft had spent decades investigating phenomena that defied conventional understanding. The assessment results weren’t just anomalous, they suggested capabilities that shouldn’t exist in any first-year student, regardless of their bloodline.

"Ladies and gentlemen," called Senior Staff Member Cassius from his position at the chamber’s head, his voice cutting through the mounting murmur of concerned voices. "Let us review the rankings systematically before drawing conclusions."

He gestured toward a crystalline display that materialized above the table, showing the assessment results in luminous script that seemed to burn the information into the air itself.

Physical Assessment Rankings:1st Place: Yomi Masaru(Assessment equipment destroyed - scoring beyond measurement)2nd Place: Aldric Pemberton(Duke Pemberton’s son - Previous academy trial record holder)3rd Place: Marcus Ravencrest(Count Ravencrest’s heir)

Magical Assessment Rankings:1st Place: Evangeline Morwyn(Baroness Celeste Morwyn’s daughter)2nd Place: Sebastian Thorne(Marquess Thorne’s son)9th Place: Yomi Masaru(Target and scoring crystal destroyed)

The silence that followed was profound, broken only by the soft whisper of evening wind against the chamber’s tall windows. Every professor present understood the implications. A student with no noble lineage, no distinguished bloodline, no family connections whatsoever, had not only gained admission but had achieved results that challenged their fundamental understanding of what was possible.

Cassius cleared his throat, his discomfort evident as he gestured toward Helena Voss’s recommendation letter, its official seal glowing with residual magical authentication. "The Assistant Head’s endorsement is... quite emphatic. She describes the candidate as ’possessing exceptional potential that transcends conventional assessment parameters.’"

Professor Lydia Ashwood, whose family had endowed three of the academy’s research chairs, leaned forward with the kind of expression usually reserved for discovering something unpleasant on the bottom of one’s shoe. "A Dra’kesh? In our academy?" Her voice carried the outrage of someone witnessing the fundamental order of the world being overturned. "This is unprecedented! Absolutely unprecedented!"

The murmur of agreement that rippled through the assembled faculty carried undertones of genuine revulsion, as though they were discussing the admission of some particularly virulent disease rather than a prospective student.

"The board will not stand for this contamination of our noble institution," Professor Ashwood continued, her voice rising with indignation. "What message does this send to the distinguished families who have entrusted their children to our care? That we consider their heirs equal to... to chattel that learned a few tricks?"

Professor Thornwick nodded vigorously, his scarred face flushing with righteous anger. "Look at his registration details," he declared, jabbing a thick finger toward the enrollment documents. "No noble blood, no distinguished lineage, no family holdings of note. He’s little more than an animal that someone taught to mimic human behavior."

Professor Valdris’s contribution was delivered with the subtle poison that marked her as one of the academy’s most skilled political operators. "The very idea of a Dra’kesh among our elite students is... deeply troubling," she said, her tone suggesting that she was grappling with concepts too distasteful for direct expression. "Consider the implications for our reputation. For centuries, Astralux Academy has been synonymous with excellence, with the finest bloodlines, with the preservation of proper social order."

Near the back of the chamber, Instructor Lyra Nightwhisper maintained her characteristic silence, though her dark eyes tracked the conversation with the analytical focus of someone who made her living by reading opponents’ weaknesses. Unlike her colleagues, her expression showed neither disgust nor outrage, but rather a kind of professional curiosity that suggested she found the entire controversy more interesting than appalling.

As one of the academy’s premier combat specialists, Lyra had witnessed countless demonstrations of martial prowess. Students from the finest families, warriors with legendary bloodlines, nobles trained from birth in the arts of war, none of them had ever achieved what this unknown Dra’kesh had accomplished in a single afternoon.

Senior Professor Marlowe, whose family had held positions within the academy’s administration for over two centuries, rose to his feet with the dignity of someone whose authority had never been seriously challenged. "Helena Voss’s recommendation carries considerable weight," he acknowledged, his tone suggesting that he found this fact deeply unfortunate. "However, we must consider the broader implications. This... creature... will destroy our reputation."

The word ’creature’ hung in the air like a physical presence, transforming the chamber’s atmosphere from one of academic concern to something approaching a tribunal.

"The other noble families will withdraw their children," Professor Ashwood added, her voice taking on the urgency of someone witnessing an approaching catastrophe. "Generations of tradition, centuries of careful cultivation of our relationships with the kingdom’s most influential houses, all of it endangered by this single, misguided act of... of whatever this is supposed to represent."

Professor Thornwick’s voice boomed across the chamber with the kind of authority that had once commanded armies. "We cannot allow this," he declared. "The standards that have made Astralux Academy the most prestigious institution in the realm must be maintained. Excellence is not simply about raw capability, it’s about breeding, about the moral and intellectual qualities that can only be cultivated through generations of proper lineage."

The murmur of agreement that followed carried the weight of institutional certainty, the kind of collective conviction that had shaped policy for centuries. These were not merely professors expressing personal opinions, they were the guardians of a tradition that predated the current kingdom, custodians of an educational philosophy that viewed bloodline as the primary indicator of human worth.

Professor Valdris leaned forward, her silver eyes glinting with the kind of calculation that had made her one of the academy’s most feared political players. "Magnus raises an excellent point," she said, her voice carrying the smooth authority of someone who knew exactly how to frame arguments for maximum impact. "Excellence in combat or magic means nothing without the moral foundation that comes from proper breeding. Who knows what kind of... instincts... this creature might possess?"

The implication hung unspoken but clear, that racial heritage carried with it not just social standing but fundamental questions of character, reliability, and trustworthiness.

It was then that Professor Valdris Ashcroft rose slowly from his chair, his movement so deliberate that conversation gradually died as every eye in the chamber turned toward him. Unlike his colleagues, Ashcroft had remained silent throughout the discussion, his attention focused on the assessment results with the kind of intensity that suggested he was seeing patterns that others had missed.

A/N:

Sorry guys, I’m back!