Amber was speechless for a minute, her eyes wide with confusion. I could tell that she didn't understand the full scope of what I was saying, couldn't understand exactly what I was.

"What do you mean... save Illatius? What war?" The redhead finally pulled the words out of herself.

"According to my precognitive friend," I pointed at Dawn on my dress. "Illatius will fall. Our generation will be the last."

Dawn waved a hand and bowed to Amber who simply stared at the dress.

"Dark times are coming," Dawn affirmed, her hair shimmering like silver starlight flowing through eternal night. "The fate of every person in Illatius and the Basq Empire rests on the shoulders of its future leaders like yourself, Baroness Snippy."

"Really?" Amber asked after another deep pause.

"A magitek uprising against the highborns is inevitable," I nodded. "My job is to subvert the revolution by using its slogans and tactics to pull everyone who supports it to work for me instead of whatever bullshit cause the Equality cultists offer."

"You're a lowborn," Amber said. "How can I possibly trust you not to take power for your own gain?"

"Were you not paying attention to the various names I mentioned earlier? This lowborn girl is just one of my bodies," I pointed at my chest. "I have others. Do you want Nemendias herself to confirm my identity and truth? Because she will."

"Eh?" Amber blinked rapidly.

"The ward of Nemendias has absolute truth hexagrams used to interview students," I said. "It cannot be fooled by even the strongest archmage."

"It's fine... I... I'm going to breakfast now," Amber muttered.

She didn't look like she was fully convinced, but at the very least she was no longer extremely hostile towards me.

Progress!

. . .

I opened the door to my first magic class. As soon as I stepped in, I felt the attention of numerous pupils. The entire lecture hall was filled with students, all of whom were dressed in fanciful, crisp uniforms and I was the last person to enter.

At the front of the room, seated at a wooden desk, was a man whose face held nothing but hatred and contempt for me.

I recognized him right away. It was Wickersmidt Phil Wert, the Arithmancy professor. The man's narrow, green eyes glared down at me as he began to list off rules for us to abide by.

I glanced around the classroom, spotting my fake and real enemies - Princess Emerald, Prince Ignius and their leader Akadia - all sitting together at one of the desks near the back. There was an almost malicious glint in their eyes as they eyed me up and down before snickering amongst themselves and making snidely remarks which I didn't hear.

"Novitiate Misem," Instructor Wert turned his pale, baling face toward me as I sat down with Voltara next to me.

"Yes, Instructor Wert?" I batted my eyelashes at him.

"Why are you out of uniform?" He hissed out. "What is this dress you're wearing?"

I grinned, knowing full well why he had asked me that question.

"Instructor Wert, you know as well as I do that Dean Octavia tried to expel me from Nemendias yesterday so that her co-conspirator Baroness Georgia could execute me," I replied calmly. "I'm wearing this fine dress to alleviate the stress of my near-expulsion and to promote the fashion line my patron Archmage Ishenko is presenting at Gala 66."

"What? You little..." The balding man sputtered.

"Go ahead, professor. Deduct all the points you want for me not being in uniform. See if I care. You can't expel me - I'm under the protection of the Ward of Nemendias from direct threat of death."

"Put some pants on, you freaking barbarian!" Emerald yelled from her desk, her vibrant eyes staring at my uncovered legs covered in blue-tinted bruises beneath my Dawn dress.

Akadia couldn't help but snort, and Instructor Wert scowled even deeper.

"Minus one hundred points from Novitiate Misem for not being in uniform!" Instructor Wert growled.

The number over my head changed to [-220]

"By the authority granted to me by the Ward of Nemendias," I yawned as if I was waving away an annoying fly. "I challenge the unfair subtraction of points assigned to my person by Instructor Wert. As per new rule added this morning to the student dress protocol by the Keeper of Keys, bearers of the two-ray Celestial Crest or greater are now permitted to wear whatever they desire to class."

The number over my head flashed back to [-110].

Wert's eyes grew wide at my words.

"Any further subtraction of points from me by Instructor Wert is to go through the Keeper of Keys of Nemendias per newly implemented policy 114-12 of unfair subtraction of points," I finished and stuck my tongue out at the teacher.

The students erupted in giggles and whispers, and Akadia scoffed mockingly.

"What in the bloody Astral, she can't do that... can she?" Emerald said.

"How dare you challenge my authority, Novitiate!" Instructor Wert snarled, slamming his fist on the desk. "You think you can get away with it? What is that maid doing sitting next to you! I will not tolerate this insolence!"

"Are you speaking about my knight-maid Voltara?" I raised an eyebrow. "She's my security detail since some people recently expressed their desire to end my life and I'm feeling rather unsafe and concerned."

"Maids are not permitted in class! You despicable, vile mongrel!" The professor erupted in rage. His eyes blazed with fiery hatred and his teeth clenched so hard his jaw rattled. "I swear upon Emperor Bolsh himself, I will find a way to expel you from Nemendias if it's the last thing I do! You are scum that does not belong here! I don't know how you cheated on your interview but you will not remain here long, you filthy, lowborn trash..."

"All you're doing is displaying your incompetence and open malice to a student who had done nothing wrong, Professor Wert," I said, twirling the armacus on my right hand.

Wert bellowed, standing up from his chair, red-faced and his blubbery cheeks trembling. "You think I care what you have to say, you little cur?!" His voice boomed in the silent room, a thunderous proclamation of his incensed state.

"Tut tut tut, professor. I'm voice-casting this conversation to Illatius Daily and other two major newspapers. "Go ahead, make my day. Scream, act like a petulant child just like you did at my acceptance interview. See how long you last here."

I shot the fat Arithmancy professor a dashing smile.

Professor Wert's face was rapidly turning an alarming shade of purple. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He seemed to be searching for words, yet all he could do was glare down at me with a look of pure hatred and contempt. His hands were gripping the desk so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, and he looked as if he wanted to lunge at me but was being held back by some invisible force.

The atmosphere in the classroom suddenly shifted as everyone watched Professor Wert struggle to find words. His eyes were wild and frantic, darting around the room before finally settling on me again. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as he tried desperately to form words, but still nothing came out. It was almost as if the professor had been rendered completely speechless by my daring challenge to his authority and all he could do now was stand there mutely while trying in vain to come up with something - anything - to destroy me.

"You..." he hissed out.

"Why don't we all hear what you told me at the interview?" I lifted up my second armacus. "Who would like to hear it?"

"Appa Bolariss, Imperial Tribune!" the voice of scrivener Appa resounded from my armacus. "I would love to hear it."

"Very well," I replied and tapped the armacus on my left hand.

“This is an outrage! Never in our history has an applicant been a criminal! ...You filthy miscreant! I demand this nuisance be removed at once! Never has this room been so befouled by a lowborn criminal roach…" Wert's voice screamed from the armacus. "A lowborn criminal cannot possibly...!”

The shocked silence that enveloped the room after his words were almost deafening, and it seemed as if time had suddenly stopped. Wert's face was a picture of shock and confusion, and all of the teens in the classroom stared at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend what we had just heard. It felt like an eternity before Instructor Wert finally spoke up again.

"I didn't say that, that wasn't me..." he muttered under his breath, trying to backpedal from his earlier comments. But it was too late - everyone in the room now knew the truth about how Professor Wert really viewed me, and it was clear that no amount of denial or excuses would make up for it.

"Checkmate," I smirked, putting my legs up on the table in front of me. "Go ahead, Professor. Yell at me again. Call me some more nasty names. Deduct more points from me. I dare you. Let all of Illatius hear you."

"But... I didn't... I..." Wert choked out, his face pale and almost blue as he failed to take a single breath.

"I'm not here to simply learn magic, Professor," I said. "I'm here to test the competence of the professors of Nemendias. So far, as evidenced in my interview and entrance ceremony I have found it lacking."

"You can't just... you..." the Instructor made noises from his corner.

"I'm the Voice of the Revolution," I said. "And I will do whatever is necessary to clean up the incompetence and malice infesting Nemendias and Illatius at large. Go on professor - admit your conspiracy against me to the Constabulary of Illatius! You're an accomplice of Baroness Georgia and you wish to kick me out of Nemendias because you want to see me dead!"

"Humbell Pinch, Illatius daily," the voice of Humbell resounded from my armacus. "Do you deny your involvement in the conspiracy to assassinate Miss Misem? Magitek bombs were discovered in the house of Miss Misem's parents this morning by the noble Constabulary of Diamondias!"

"I'm not participating in any conspiracy, I swear!" Wert shook his blubbery cheeks, his face covered in sweat. "I would never! I don't... I am not a criminal!"

"Then prove it," I wiggled my eyebrows. "Explain to the people of Illatius why you have been attacking me and using your power as an Instructor to prevent me from studying here and learning Magic. Tell everyone why you wanted to expel me so that I could return to my house and get blown up to smithereens!"

Wert stumbled back, his face now beyond frightened and desperate for a way out as he realized that I had him completely cornered. He might have been a complete Royalist and he might have despised lowborns but clearly he wasn't a criminal, wasn't a murderer.

He looked around the room helplessly, almost pleading with everyone present for an answer or sign of mercy, but sadly there was none from the shocked students. Finally after another minute of fretting he slumped onto his desk in complete defeat.

Folding his hands before him, he turned his green eyes up to mine, "I apologize for my harsh words," he uttered, rubbing his face. "I... I was simply... I didn't understand the full scope of the situation."

“Iggitus Wompik, Highstreet Journal!” The third scrivener under my wings bellowed out of my armacus with such force that it echoed through the room. "Instructor Wert! Your behavior is simply unforgivable! Even if you had nothing to do with the horrific conspiracy to endanger the life of Miss Misem, her parents and any innocent children or Illatius citizens who may have been near the blast radius... you are still quite frankly a very awful man and I for one won't rest until I interview recent Nemendias graduates to see what they think about you as a teacher!"

The room was still utterly silent and Wert was now completely pale, his eyes wide with fear. He could only gape at me, the words stuck in his throat as he desperately tried to come up with an explanation.

But there were none to be found and all he could do was plead silently, hoping that I would spare him the public humiliation of being exposed as a horrible teacher and possible bomb-plot conspirator in the newspapers.

I pointed two of my fingers at the professor like a gun, letting him know with absolute certainty that his future was destined for termination. The angry man had dug his own grave and hammered nails into his coffin with his passionate hatred of me. His out-of-control rage had effectively chained him to his own fate of dismissal and review by the authorities.