School of Creation ; SetoSolace

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Seto sighed, avoiding eye contact as he strolled down the Grand Hall. His head was held down as he felt eyes gazing at him in bewilderment; in wonder. In his sweaty palms, he grasped an envelope laced with black threading, as well as having a red sealing stamp with a Black Lotus design.

Dignity.

Judgement.

Wisdom.

Power — The four pillars that a Sorcerer must comprehend and use to an advantage.

Cruelty — Something that we were all born with.

Seto understood these "things," comprehensively to say the least. They were just words, simple phrases that Seto rarely took skin deep. Yet, everyday these words were put to an advantage to the person who decided to use them. Seto understood this as well.

Yet, here he was, strolling down a familiar hallway and down a path of dignity with judgmental eyes staring down upon him. Among his people he was considered a "hero," or possibly someone who was willing to risk their life for the sake of other people's fortune. Of course, it was the opposite of that, for as Seto's Father, otherwise known as "Headmaster," bestowed this mission upon him. In all honesty, it was more as to force.

As he stopped at the end of the hall, breathing slowly, Seto swiftly opened the two bulky, oak brown doors. Stepping into the room, he was greeted by his Father, as well as his other family members that had conveniently came to wish him the best of luck. Occasions like these were rare amongst Sorcerers, due to the fact that there is an uncanny amount of emotion to be shown. Seto didn't like this "emotion" ordeal one bit.

But, he managed to toss out a couple of words the best the could as he strolled past the sea of peoples' welcoming, smiling faces. Seto clenched his fist until his knuckles turned a paler white than his own flawless skin. His teeth grit sharply as he finally made his way through the crowd and up behind the curtain. His glossy, chocolate brown eyes peered over to see a crowd of Sorcerers awaiting his own speech, as well as his Father's, the Headmaster that most widely recognized.

Seto cursed under his breath at the thought of the Headmaster.

His sickening smile with his perfect, glossy teeth that were as bright as the sun. His hair that was an ashy oak color and his fringe that occasionally swept over his eyes. His pale green eyes that swirled with the color of hazel, and his perfect pale skin that complemented his eye color. His sharp jawline, and his perfect, well built figure. The Sorcerer Cloak he always wore; black and golden, that fell perfectly to the floor, almost like in a fantasy-like motion. That was the Headmaster, the Father that Seto had always knew and despised.

They weren't similar in appearance at all, with Seto having a brunet colored hair that he had inherited from his Mother, and a fringe that had grown too long, which resulted with it sweeping over his left eye. He had skin that was a snow white color, pale to say the least. His eyes were the natural color of a soft chocolate brown, which caused him to look like an outsider to most Sorcerers. His teeth were perfectly white, but he had to get braces when he was younger to keep them properly straight. And finally, despite his short stature of 5'4 ½, he wore a long, purple and black colored cloak that covered his face most of the time, which did not look elegant. The sleeves were outlined with a golden color, but slightly baggy. He also had a black and golden cape to match his Father's colors, which he hated.

Yet here he was, standing behind a lush, dark red curtain, waiting for his Father to finish his speech and welcome him onto the stage. The thought of public speaking shook him, especially since this was his first impression in front of his own people. No one has seen the supposed "Legendary Prince," and no one knew his true identity. To reveal that he was a short, frail looking male that probably shopped at Hot Topic was embarrassing enough. The fact that he could stutter on his words, or slur, makes it even worse.