In Icarra, the capital of Carnis, pride wasn't just a virtue- it was the measure of success. A lesson Medora had learned from the moment she could walk. Even as a child, she was taught to keep her chin high, and enter every room as though the world awaited her arrival.

    The polished bell above her door rang precisely at 7 o'clock in the morning, pulling Medora from her sleep. She moved instinctively, making her bed with practiced precision- pulling the sheets taut, tucking them under the mattress, and fluffing her pillows until they were perfectly aligned against the headboard. Once satisfied, she stood back, inspecting her work, then nodded in approval.

She opened her bedroom door to signal her maid that she was awake and ready for the day. The woman could now begin her daily cleaning routine, as was customary in their household.

    On one occasion, years ago, Medora had opened the door without first making her bed, which earned her a near-instant reprimand from her mother. She had insisted that her bedroom door be kept closed unless everything was spotless. Medora had never understood why they employed the woman if they never gave her anything to do. But the reason was clear: disorder was simply unacceptable, and the idea of anyone seeing their home in anything but perfect order was disgraceful.

    After surveying her extensive closet- carefully curated to prepare her for any occasion or weather condition- Medora finally decided on a black top and black leather skirt, paired with dark red boots and a matching peacoat. To elevate the ensemble, she selected dark pantyhose, silver jewelry, and a black, white, and red plaid scarf to drape elegantly around her neck.

    Once the outfit was laid out for the maid to press, Medora positioned herself in front of her vanity. She swept her hair into a loose bun, her fingers moving with ease, before applying her makeup with the same methodical care. A hint of blush warmed her cheeks, mascara framed her doe eyes, and a subtle touch of gloss accentuated her small, rounded lips. Satisfied with the results, she dressed carefully, smoothing the fabric to avoid creases, and thanked the maid with a soft nod before heading downstairs for breakfast.

    The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted her as she descended one side of the two grand staircases, and she let out a quiet sigh of anticipation- breakfast was her favorite meal of the day. The sound of bacon sizzling on the griddle brought the faintest hint of a smile onto her lips as she sat at the breakfast table by the bay window of her home.

Across the table, her mother sat poised, flipping through her agenda while the butler set their plates in front of them: a yogurt parfait, a few strips of bacon, jellied toast, and coffee with water on the side.

    "Got a bit lazy with your hair today, didn't we?" Her mother remarked, her tone quiet but cutting, one brow arching as she delicately cut into her toast.

    Medora looked up from her coffee, clearing her throat as she swallowed.

    "It's just a bit windy today, and... well, I figured I would fix it up once I got to school," she said, the lie slipping out effortlessly. "You know, after the wind messes it up some more."

In truth, she preferred the looser bun- it didn't leave her scalp aching by the end of the school day.

    Her mother's sharp gaze lingered, making Medora shift uncomfortably in her seat. After a moment, she returned to her meal, and Medora exhaled quietly in relief.

    Her father must have already left for work. If he were here, he would've complimented her, telling her mother how lovely Medora looked. That he'd "never seen a more beautiful little dove." He'd then follow it up with his usual reminder that he'd "seen a lot of doves in his time overseas," a comment that never failed to make her mother roll her eyes.

    Medora drained the last sip of her water to wash down her meal, nodding gratefully as the butler removed her plate. Excusing herself from the table, she slid her school tote over her shoulder and waited for the doorman to escort her out.

    "Finish the week strong, dear." Her mother called. Medora nodded reassuringly before heading outside.

    The chilly breeze bit at her skin, drawing a sharp breath as she descended the stone walkway to the iron gate. The doorman accompanied her, his white-gloved hand pulling the gate open to let her onto the bustling street.

    Carnis Arcanum, the prestigious university nestled in the heart of Icarra, was only a five-minute walk from her home. If the weather permitted, she preferred to walk for a bit of fresh air and exercise. On days like this, she passed through the neighborhood's tree-lined streets, taking in the sound of chirping birds and soaking up the admiring glances of passersby.

Charyssans from the greed sector were common along this route. They strolled through Icarra with their dogs or children, their eyes drinking in the sights as if proximity alone could grant them a life like Medora's. She could often single out their ogling gazes before they even spoke.

    "Oh, Miss Vaile," one woman cooed as she passed, her sticky eyes lingering too long on Medora's knee-high boots. Her athleticwear was a bit too tight, her smile a bit too eager- a Charyssan, no doubt. "Stunning as always, those boots are lovely."

    Medora returned a softer smile, her chin lifting ever so slightly. "Thank you. Have a good day."

    One of her favorite parts of this walk was tallying the compliments she received. It wasn't vanity; it was confirmation. Proof that she embodied the life they envied.

    "Oh stop staring, Ella!" A mother hissed at her daughter, pulling her close as they passed Medora. "You can't expect to fit in if you're gawking like that."

The woman dared to glance at Medora, her voice softening. "So sorry, dear."

Medora didn't reply, but a faint smile still played on her lips as she continued her stroll toward Carnis Arcanum.

The black street lights lining the path bore flags of the university's emblem, swaying slightly in the crisp morning breeze. Medora quickened her pace as they came into view, signaling her arrival at the Arcanum. Through the thin mist of the fountain ahead, her eyes searched the grand staircase for a familiar face.

There, alone on the steps, a thin girl with tightly coiled yellow-blonde hair hunched over a notepad. Saija Fletcher. She was no doubt working on another one of her infamous excerpts, likely destined for the Imperial, the daily news report delivered to every household in Carnis.

"If you keep hunching like that, your neck's going to get stuck." Medora called out, her lips curling into a teasing grin.

Saija's bright blue eyes darted up, startled, before softening into a shy smile. "Listen to this." She began quickly, standing and stepping closer in an almost conspiratorial manner. Her voice dropped as her gaze swept cautiously around the courtyard. "Kane Hallow lost his first league fight last night. Left the arena immediately after the match- and of course, after destroying half the place on his way out- and no one's seen him since. Word is, the loss could cost him his spot in the tournament. Not to mention, his scholarship's on thin ice after that outburst."

Medora tilted her head, letting Saija's words wash over her. Typical Saija- always with the latest gossip before the sun had fully risen. She had a knack for it, really, an almost unsettling talent for digging up secrets and scandals no one else could. Medora often wondered how someone could live like that: so quiet, so mousy, perpetually in the shadows, only to exploit the lives of others for her own little rush. It all sounded exhausting. She couldn't imagine needing to do so much work to feel good about herself.

Still, there was no denying that Saija was good at what she did. The Charyssan journalist-in-training had transformed her bright ambitions into a scholarship at the Arcanum, landing herself a temporary life here in Icarra. Though she would rarely say it out loud, Medora sometimes marveled at how easily Saija's sharp mind had carried her to the top of her class back in Charyssa.

"Quite the page-turner," Medora replied with a knowing smirk, letting Saija's enthusiasm play itself out.

Sometimes, though, when there was no scandal to be found, Saija would turn to Medora as her muse, writing glowing features about her family's accomplishments or the latest extravagant event they'd attended. Those pieces always made it into the Imperial, of course. With a father who was a Commander in the Legion of Shadows and a mother serving as a Warden of the Seven, Medora was destined to be the crown jewel of her class. All eyes were on her, always. Especially Saija's.

Whether Saija watched her so closely in anticipation of her inevitable downfall, or simply found her endlessly fascinating, Medora had long stopped caring. Either way, she always gave the girl plenty to write about.

As Saija fell into step beside her, Medora slipped the scarf from her neck, folding it neatly before tucking it into her tote. Making their way through the main hall, the sharp clicks of Medora's boots drew a few curious glances from clustered students. The intentional rhythm of her stride seemed to set an unspoken pace for Saija's softer, more hesitant steps.

"You'd think those scrap-snatchers from Savoren would finish their plates before leaving the cafeteria," Medora muttered, eyeing a group of students from the Gluttony sector indulging in a handful of pastries.

One girl caught Medora's scornful stare, freezing mid-bite. Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment as she hurried to wipe the powdered sugar pressed onto her lips. Medora's eyes lingered a moment longer. It was a shame, really- the girl was naturally pretty, with bronze skin, almond-shaped eyes, and sleek black hair much like Medora's own.

"I've got the title for my next article," Saija jeered, gesturing as if framing a headline. "Icarra's Jewel Judges Everyone."

Medora cast her a playful glance, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement, but she made no response. The two walked on, their steps finally lining up with established camaraderie.

The obsidian pathways of Carnis Arcanum bustled with students from all seven sectors. It was the only place in all of Carnis where such a diverse group could gather- conversing, laughing, and occasionally arguing- without suspicion or scorn. That was what made the university so extraordinary. Admission was limited to the top ten students from each sector, a strict standard that reinforced its prestige.

After all, the school's slogan wasn't just for show: "A Beacon of Unity, A Legacy of the Elite."

The students recited the phrase every morning, right after the imperial anthem, standing in reverent silence before taking their seats.

Professor Lennox, a slender, lanky man with incessantly hunched shoulders, strode from his desk at the front of the room to the chalkboard. The screech of chalk against the surface made Medora grimace momentarily as she unfolded her notepad, preparing to copy down his words. She glanced up, her brow furrowing slightly as she read the questions scrawled across the board:

What is unity? How is it achieved?

The professor set the chalk down and wiped his hands on a well-worn rag hanging from his belt loop. He turned to face the classroom, his dull eyes scanning the tiered rows of the students in the lecture hall.

"I'm sure you're all aware of the quickly approaching Septentrion," he began, his voice carrying a distinct crispness that commanded attention. "Can anyone tell me the origins of this holiday, and why we as an empire choose to celebrate it?"

The room fell silent, save for the faint rustle of notebooks and the last few straggling scribbles of pens on paper.

Medora straightened in her seat, her mind instinctively sifting through the familiar details of the holiday. The Septentrion was an annual, week-long celebration that celebrated the formation of the seven sectors of Carnis. What was initially intended to be a curse- a punishment inflicted upon the empire centuries ago- had been transformed into what many now believe to be their greatest blessing.

Each sector viewed their sin as a divine gift, a unique contribution to the empire's survival and prosperity. Throughout the week, special events are held in each sector to honor their ruling sin: beauty competitions in Charyssa, elaborate feasts in Savoren, and extravagant balls and networking banquets in Icarra, where individual achievements are celebrated with splendor.

At the end of the week, a Unity Ceremony is held at Carnis Arcanum and led by the Warden of the Seven. The ceremony highlights the harmony of the sins and the sectors, a public display of eternal balance within the empire.

For the students, however, the ceremony held an even greater significance. Each year, groups of third-year students submitted final projects explaining the importance of unity and collaboration. The group with the best project was awarded a chance to present their work at the beginning of the ceremony- a privilege that carried tremendous honor.

Medora's pen tapped lightly against her notepad as her thoughts lingered on the opportunity. To present at the Unity Ceremony was one of the highest achievements at Carnis Arcanum, a mark of excellence that inevitably paved the way for future leadership roles.

Professor Lennox peered out at his students, his eyes glinting with amusement, the wrinkles at their corners deepening as he surveyed the silent room. "Ah, I take your silence as a sign of eagerness to hear the details of your assignment- and, of course, your hastiness to discover your groups."

He clasped his hands behind his back, pacing in front of the chalkboard. "For this year's Unity Ceremony, your task is to draft a speech that answers the questions I've written on the board." He gestured toward the board without averting his gaze from the class, his voice steady and projecting. "Your groups have been carefully selected to represent the diversity of Carnis."

Medora's pen froze in her hand as the professor swiped a piece of paper from his desk and began calling out names. She sat at the edge of her seat, eagerness rising in her chest. She would surely be grouped with the best.

"...Fletcher, Vaile, Hallow..."

She let out a breath she hadn't realized was holding. Kane Hallow? The hot-head Saija mentioned earlier? Medora felt her stomach twist.

Twisting in her seat, she craned her neck toward the back corner of the room. A tall boy with a crooked nose and bruised jaw slouched low in his seat, his sharp glare sweeping over the room. Their eyes met briefly, and Medora snapped her head back around, her cheeks burning.

"Blaike, Griffin, Locke, and Lenoir," the professor continued, finishing the list.

Medora sent Saija a warning glare at the sound of her stifled giggle. Nadia Griffin? The girl from this morning. To say it would likely be Saija and herself carrying the load of this project would be an understatement.

• • •

Back home, Medora sat at the polished mahogany dining table, the soft clink of silverware and crystal glassware echoing faintly throughout the dining hall. She recounted her day at a measured pace, carefully avoiding her mother's disapproving gaze. Instead, she focused on her father's keen expression of interest.

"And did you introduce yourself to your group before you stormed out of the room?" Her mother asked, her tone as sharp as the edge of the knife she used to slice through the roast on her plate.

Medora flared. Stormed out? "We divided the workload over lunch, and discussed possible key points of the project." She replied, keeping her voice composed.

Her mother raised an eyebrow and glanced at her father before taking a sip from her wine glass. "First impressions are everything, Medora. I hope you presented yourself well."

"Yes, Mother," she replied smoothly, though she believed she hardly needed to prove herself to such an odd assortment of group members.

Her father cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, a proud smile playing on his warm features. "I'm sure she and her group will do wonderfully. Our little dove always finds a way to shine."

Medora allowed herself a small smile, though her shoulders still sagged slightly under the weight of her mother's words.

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A/N: Hello! Welcome to the first chapter of 7FF! I hope you enjoyed it. What are your thoughts on Medora? :)