First day of the second semester for Galahad came faster than he had anticipated. It took the duelist great effort to drag himself out of bed, his energy still feeling sapped, no better than last night. Whatever had come over him if it didn't get better soon he would need to consider seeing a healer, and a good one, too. But his stubbornness to remain independent kept him from doing so; he hoped his potions and limited healing magic would help soon. Galahad did his best to stand up straight in the mirror, casting over himself a cleansing spell. Today's scent was crushed almonds, using the shells from some he had eaten the day before. It might do enough to hide the miasma coming off of him, he hoped desperately. The skin on his shoulder and chest was still grayed and almost dead looking. His clothes went on next: brown slacks, a t-shirt depicting a cartoonish goblin with a bomb in his hands, a gift from the Raxpedallias, a thick jacket with a scarf, and lastly a warm hooded and sleeveless forest green cloak. A cough escaped his lips as he took himself towards his table, gathering up all his materials for the day and shoving them in a bag before slinging it over his good shoulder. With some effort he managed it and headed out and for the door. Hopefully he wouldn't be late on the first day.
	The first class was Manus' transmutation 102. He had passed the test and came out with a C plus, which all things considered wasn't too bad for having saved Fairgarland. Still, he hoped to do better this term. After finding his way through the enchanted halls he brushed past his fellow students on the way down the stairs to the main room, giving a nod to anyone who greeted him. He felt much too tired to speak. When he made it outside the cold weather hit him like needles against his face, the frigid weather in Fairgarland no doubt made worse by his malady. He cursed his luck and coughed into his scarf, making the trek to his first class. The walk was draining and greeting people slowed him further, but with time he eventually made it to Manus' classroom, just after everyone had taken their seats.
	"You alright, Galahad?" Asked one of his classmates. He didn't know which one it was, but he nodded anyway, finding his seat before plopping down his books and practically falling into his chair. 
	"Bad cold… that's rough." Said someone else.
	"Maybe he should go see Percy."
	"Alright everyone, it is time to start the new semester," Manus announced, "Welcome to my class, Transmutation one zero two. I am glad to see many of you passed the last class to be here," She smiled gently, "I know last semester was… dreadful, but we all made it through, so let us continue our lives by taking the next step toward mastery of transmutation."
	Though a little stilted, the fey-witch had done her best to inspire her students, each of them politely clapping for her. Galahad did his best to clap before opening his book. Manus turned to her blackboard and wrote her title across it, "For those few who have not been in one of my classes, I am known as The Multifold Manus, you may call me Manus, Miss Manus, whatever suits you. As this is transmutation one zero two, it will be a continuation of your last class, meaning we will be going through similar studies and exercises albeit more difficult than before. I am fully confident that you will easily be able to master the basics of transmutation and that it will become second nature to you. Now, allow me to demonstrate one of our first exercises we will be conducting in the coming week."
Manus took out a large, clear jug and cast a spell to fill it with water. Many of the students were able to do this now, but she held out a finger before anyone could protest.
	"Turning a gas to liquid is simple, as is turning liquid to solid, however in our next exercise we will be practicing mastery over this skill with precision. Observe," She said, waving one of her hands over the jug. She then reached into the water and grasped at the center of it before pulling something out. Right before them the fey had formed a ball of ice at the center of the water and withdrew it, showing it to the entire class.
	"Exercises like this will help in the coming years for more precise transmuting purposes. It will help to save you mana when you need to make small adjustments and will also allow you more accurate measurements when casting to begin with," Explained Manus. She turned the ball of ice into vapor and whisked it away before looking at her students once again, "It has been saved for this class because it is difficult to learn so soon, however it is a skill we will be using throughout this course, so I expect you to practice whenever possible. We will go over exactly how to achieve this today so that we might begin practicing in earnest. Now everyone, here are your containers," With the wave of every hand, Manus cast a spell throughout the classroom and before each student a see-through container was formed, all roughly a gallon.
	"Please fill your containers with water," She instructed. Every student was quick to do so, and though Galahad struggled to produce the mana, he somehow managed.
	"Now, reach in with your dominant hand and listen carefully to my instructions. You must use your mind's eye for this exercise, only then can you succeed. As you look upon your hand, visualize within your mind the ball of ice you will be grasping. Close your eyes if it helps. Keep that image of the ball in your mind, concentrate your mana around that ball."
	Many students struggled with the idea, some of them idly stirring their hand within the water with their eyes closed, ice slowly forming around their fingers, while others began turning the whole container to ice, overcompensating.
	"Reach into your mind and grasp the ball of ice with your mana. Use your hands,"  Manus encouraged. Galahad felt his mana sputtering to a halt, his hand merely forming pockets of ice that drifted to the top of the container. Even now he was too tired to express his frustration. If he had the energy he might have managed, but as it stood he was wasting his efforts. He silently kicked himself for being sick, slouching down in his chair with a sour expression. It was nearly a repeat of last semester, only this time he knew what the problem was and couldn't fix it.
	A chuckle made Galahad glance to his right, “Is the teacher’s pet having a hard time?” A sneer came from a yellow scaled lizard man with Fritz’Eleo’s red armband. To rub it in, he seemed to perfectly cast the spell and pulled a sphere of ice from the water. He grinned, showing his sharp, white teeth. Just as white as his teeth was the snowball that smashed into the back of his head. Whipping around, he bared his teeth at a room of transmutationists either flipping him the bird or making faces at him, “Who threw that!?”
	Even the non Karak-Albrac students shrugged or shook their heads, “Leave Galahad alone,” Angerdese hissed. 
	A few other students jeered at the lizard. With the Butcher gone, is the house feuding back on? Galahad wondered. A cold wind blew through the classroom and the lights flickered, “Class,” Miss Manus’s voice boomed, “Leave the house politics out of my classroom. Focus on your studies. Again, each of you, make a sphere.”
 
	Galahad was slow to trudge to his second class. Alchemy 102, once again the students were excited to see their colorful teacher Professor Sh’Lak. Her class was in the same room as last semester. She stood at the front of the room with her clipboard in hand and just like last term was directing students to their tables. The elf took one look at the duelist, saw how terrible he looked, and without skipping a beat she began instructing him, “Table six again, Galahad.”
	With a silent nod, he made his way to the table and sat down, “Was wonderin’ when you’d show up, Lox,” Blud smiled as he started bringing out his textbook, “Good morning’,” Galahad nodded silently, coughing as he attempted to return the greeting. Blud patted his friend's back as gently as a goblin could, "Not feeling any better, huh? I can take you to the infirmary if you want," He offered. The duelist shook his head and tapped his finger on the table twice, indicating to the goblin that he was staying put.
	“Well, alright. My holiday break was nice, by the way, thanks for askin'! Despite my mom’s constant teasing, I hung out with San some more and we got to cookin' with that book I bought her. We’re gonna check out the ones you got her soon. Yesterday we went to that new orcish place downtown and we both had way too much to eat,” He explained excitedly, “We also got in some dueling practice. Ya spend all your time with Manus?”
	Galahad shook his head and for once he wished he knew illusion magic just so he could communicate. He also wished the telepathy he sometimes used wasn’t so taxing on his bad arm. Before the goblin could pester him more, Professor Sh'Lak tossed a small potion to the ground and it erupted in a loud BANG before dissolving into nothing, leaving the floor much cleaner than before.
	“Seems like that got everyone's attention. Alright!” The elven professor shouted the second the bell rang, “You know who I am. But as a refresher after all the excitement and your near month long holiday where my precious teaching surely fled your heads as they were stuffed with turkey, and Christmas cheer,” She grumbled to herself as she adjusted her metal visor, “I am professor Sh’Lak. Welcome to my second alchemy course. Last term we worked on consumed potions, this term will be topically applied salves. And poisons. And definitely no explosives. That's for another class. It should be fun!” She threw her arms in the air to try and rile up her students only for her metal visor to almost fall on her face, seemingly being stopped just below her browline, “Looks like those stoppers are coming in handy already,” She sighed with relief as she put it up and tightened the screws, “Anyways. Open your book to page forty-seven. If you have questions, let me know, but I think you can all make a simple healing salve without my guidance at this point. We may have a use for them later in the week.”

	To Galahad's surprise, the alchemy class had gone on without any explosions or injury to students or Professor Sh'Lak. Blud had done well making his healing salve alongside the duelist, as did most students who had gotten over the initial shock of the half-crazed elven alchemist. Thankfully Galahad did not need any mana to perform well in this class, though he did catch an eye or two for coughing several times. Even the professor paused during one of her instructions to allow him to gather himself before she continued, which was at least somewhat surprising.
	Now it was time for Evocation 115. It took Galahad a moment to work up the courage to step into the evocation building. He already knew tensions were high between his house and Fritz’Eleo, but he was just another student that wanted to learn. He fixed his cloak and wandered inside. The evocation studies building was warm and the halls were covered with portraits and a few busts on pillars. The sofas and benches of the other buildings were nowhere to be seen, making students loiter around and lean against the walls. The sounds of conversations seemed to end just as Galahad entered the building. Eyes turned to him, most with the red armband of house Fritz’Eleo even glared.
	Galahad lifted his scarf over his face, leaving only his fiery eyes visible. With as much haste as he could muster he stepped into his first class and found a seat in the front. The rest of the students filed in shortly after, some whispering to one another as they sat in the back of the room. The only students near Galahad had armbands for the Seekers House or Maxamillion. None of them paid him any mind, but he could feel the glares of the Fritz’Eleo students like daggers in his back. He did his best to push it from his mind, he didn't have the time or the energy for these ridiculous games. He just hoped for the professor to arrive soon. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait much longer. A tall, lanky half-elven woman with thick glasses resting on the bridge of her nose took to the front of the room. She pulled her crimson hair back and blinked her ruby eyes at her class, “Forgive me for being late,” She brushed ash off of her plum colored robes, “There was a fire in my previous class. I am Ferrow Mjald, ninth-year of Fritz’Eleo. Welcome to Applied Evocation. No you are not in the wrong class, this class is also known as Evocation one fifteen. Though it is a beginner course, I expect you to know how to cast evocation already. Now then–” She looked at the front row, “You in the front. Face coverings and hood down. I do not tolerate either in my classroom,” She heard a sigh before the hood and scarf came down. She knew that face, those flame-colored eyes especially, “Ah,” Her lips turned into a frown, “You. Might I ask why I have you in my class with such an obvious condition?”
	Galahad took a labored breath, “To better help others learn in my dueling–” He grunted as he felt a sudden jolt strike his back. Numerous students behind him snickered, while several others hissed at one another.
	“Hmph,” Ferrow turned away from him and grabbed her tome, “You may keep your scarf over your mouth, we do not want others getting sick. Let us turn to our textbook and begin.”
	Galahad grabbed his own book from his bag only for it to be ripped from his hands with a spell and into the hands of one of the evocationists in the back. Several of them snickered as the person who did it smugly held the book up at their victim. Galahad bit his tongue, struggling to keep it in, “You lack the required materials for this class?” The half-elven teacher sneered as she looked up from her book. One of the abjurationists clicked his tongue and turned toward the back of the class, spotting the book sitting on the evocationist's desk. Whipping a wand out of his sleeve he quickly snatched back the duelist's book and handed it to him.
	"It seems to me that someone simply 'borrowed' it, Miss Mjald." He said, "How kind of Mister Loxley."
Ferrow Mjald nodded her head, "Very well. Now, page eleven is where we will begin."
	As Miss Mjald began to dictate the contents of the texts, another student shot off a little, near harmless firebolt from the back of the room at the Karak-Albrak wizard. It struck him at his shoulder, causing him to wince. It may not have had much to it, but the way he was now, just about anything stung. Another came at him, this time he moved and it struck Ferrow Mjald's desk. She looked up from the book and halted her tutelage with a scowl, "Who threw that?" She demanded. Several heads turned toward the back, focusing in on one particularly short griffonite man. He shrunk down in his chair as Ferrow Mjald glowered at him, "Nilboc. You may leave," She said. She pointed a finger at him, curling it to lift him from his chair and promptly pulling him toward the front of the class. Using her offhand she opened the door and pushed him out, quickly gathering his things in a similar fashion before throwing them at him.
	"I tolerate no tomfoolery. There are no 'strikes' here, if you did not come here to learn then you will be expelled from my class. Am I understood?" There were nods all around, "Good. Now, where was I? Ah, yes…" 
	Even with the threat, Galahad felt a heat coming from behind him and he knew that would not be the end of it. Someone was now foolishly cross with him and they were going to make their move.
	"Casting strength depends on many factors, how deep your mana wells are, the amount you pour into a spell, how concentrated that spell is as well as even your physicality. Strength of mind and of body are the two key factors to more complex and powerful spellcasting. One may focus on one aspect or another, but only a fool discounts the other as useless or a waste of time."
	Galahad felt the heat growing behind him. Just what kind of spell was this idiot about to cast? He prepared himself, mustering his strength for the coming attack. They probably thought he was an easy target now that he was weak, he mused. Just as Ferrow Mjald was about to turn the page did the student let loose a fireball. With a screech, the chair Galahad sat on flew back as the wizard stood. He whipped around in an instant, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, before swatting the fireball with his bare hand, reflecting it back at the attacker. It struck him painfully in the chest, knocking him flat on his back and the wind from their lungs. 
	The entire room went silent but for the student writhing on the ground. The smell of burnt robes and singed skin filled the room. Galahad’s hand steamed as he glared at his attacker. Three of his friends stood up from their seats, ready to attack the duelist while several of the seekers and abjurationists came to Galahad's defense. It was a standoff. Not even Ferrow Mjald was prepared to get between the students preparing to turn the classroom into a warzone. The evocationists had their spells prepared, but they hesitated. The duelist had drawn first blood, but now his eyes burned with a silent rage and despite his illness he looked prepared to kill.
	The evocationists backed down slowly, each of them going to their friend to escort him to the infirmary. Only after they left did Galahad relent, his shoulders slumping down as he sighed. Everyone else went back to their seats, "Maybe now we can actually learn something," One of the students grumbled.
	"Quite impressive, Mister Loxley." Ferrow Mjald said flatly, "A shame he was hurt, but he asked for it when he let loose a fireball in my classroom."
	"I didn't mean to," Galahad murmured. He had felt a compulsion, an urge to draw blood from the student that had attacked him. He could have simply dispersed the spell and threatened him into submission, but he was compelled to bring harm to the student. He had been angry before, he had even wanted to fight before, but never like this. This was different, this was murderous.
	"You may take your seat, Mister Loxley." Ferrow instructed. The duelist looked up at her before he shook his head, grabbed his bags and made for the door.
	"I'm sorry," He rasped, "I can't. I'm sorry for disrupting your class."
	The other students watched him slowly trudge out and put his hood back up. He tried to decide what to do next, maybe drafting an apology letter would be for the best. He knew he would drop the class for sure, he wasn’t welcome there after all. But what to pick up instead? He dismissed the thoughts, he would have time to decide. After a nap, of course.

	Even though he was weary and almost without mana, Galahad stomped through the snow to an abjuration class, the last of his day. He had already downed several mana potions today and they seemed to have no effect at all, or if they did they were the only thing keeping him from collapsing. He stepped into the abjuration class building and scanned the few students who had classes at this time. They nodded or greeted Galahad in a friendly fashion, a nice change after his brush with the evocationists. It had been a last minute addition to his class roster, so a bit of doubt was in his mind as he climbed to the top floor, the high level abjuration classes. 304 was the room number, Galahad stepped in to see just a few students, all abjuration masters. At the front of the room where he came in, Sean was chatting with an older dwarvish man. The president waved Galahad over without looking away from the dwarf, “This is the man himself, Headmaster Spellbreaker. This is Mister Loxley.”
	The dwarf was obviously sizing up Galahad. His beard and long hair were both white, braided into intricate knots, and decorated with platinum jewelry. His navy blue clothes were well fitting and sported several decorative seals of metals and waxes, all in various shapes and sizes, “This beardling? Remind me, were you a participant in the duels?” The duelist nodded and pulled his scarf down, “You know how I feel about students using my tutelage on each other, Sean.”
	“Kal,” Sean pleaded, “Mister Loxley is not a hot-headed fool. He aided me against that Butcher. Without him I believe Harold and I would have been lost as well.”
	Kal began to idly cast a spell as he checked a ledger of students, “Hmm. A first year… How can a first year student keep up in my class?”
	Galahad, with the snap of his fingers, countered the headmaster’s spell and fizzled it out immediately. Luckily his abjuration magic took little to no effort despite his lack of mana, “I was taught as an apprentice,” His voice wheezed, “By a skilled abjurationist. On that, I am a first year in title only.”
	Headmaster Spellbreaker peered at him, “Hmph.”
	“He has my full recommendation, sir. He even knows a bit about realms already, he banished Harold to a maze in the duels,” Sean continued to implore, “I believe he will surprise you,” He looked to Galahad, finally noticing how unkempt he was, “Are you feeling ill? You look worse than Harold. He has been in a miserable state after our battle in the fey realm.”
Harold was sick, too? Was there something else going on in that fey realm? But Sean looked perfectly healthy and Rald looked no worse for wear during Christmas. Blud made no mention of her being ill either, “I’m weak, it feels like mana sickness,” He finally groaned.
	"Harold said the same thing," Sean exhaled sharply, "Is there anything I can do for you?"
	“I’ve been chugging mana potions and huffing herbs and salt all day. I’m getting better, I’m sure. Here,” Galahad handed over two letters of recommendation. One from Zucarius and the other from Xavos to the professor
	Kal could not ignore these, “Well, if you’re sick, you’re in luck,” The headmaster harrumphed, “Today we will be discussing magical theorems and not casting spells. Sit down, and you had better impress me, Loxley.”
	Galahad nodded in thanks and found a seat. There were not many students, only six others who were all abjurationists. Sean smiled at him and gave a nod before leaving the room. The bell rang soon after, signaling class to start, “Good morning and welcome to Abjuration four twelve: Pocket Realms and Banishing,” The headmaster began. The short dwarf’s eyes scanned the room, “I see many familiar faces. For our one new student, I am the headmaster of abjuration, Kal Spellbreaker. I have been with Fairgarland since the old world. A student then, and a professor for nearly ninety years now. Let us get right into it. Please refer to your tome of knowledge, the second book specifically. Page one hundred and seventy two. You will see a page listing formulae related to realms.” 
Galahad saw what he was talking about. Mana amounts, components, hand gestures, types of mana, powers of casting, words to chant, and every other potential part of casting a spell was laid before him. He understood it, of course, but it was still overwhelming, like too many choices at the potion shop.
	“Unlike the potentially fast and loose magic of standard abjuration, how is realm based abjuration different, Mister Loxley?” The dwarf was already testing him.
	“It–” He had a quick coughing fit, holding up a hand to beg for the headmaster to give him a moment, “It draws power from– From the earth and the realms around it. Its repurposed druid magic,” He had another bout of coughing.
	“Snark, please continue Mister Loxley’s answer,” The dwarf ordered.
	The gray, furry hobgoblin woman nodded, “It has a rigid way to cast it. Like the druids he mentioned, we have to reach out to specific places of power and magic to cast these spells.”
	“When Harold was supposedly banished to a maze, where did the caster reach out to? Paul?”
	“The minor realm of Knossos?” The man replied, “It was created years ago for use with the maze spell.”
	“And creating our own realms is where we will focus our studies for now,” Headmaster Spellbreaker nodded with satisfaction, “Good work, you’ve all done your homework!” He chuckled, “All of you, we will be practicing our magical theorem on this topic by writing out the spellcraft for creating a minor, temporary realm. If you have questions, shout for me, you know I can’t see your raised hands very well anymore.”

	There was not much daylight left as Galahad weakly walked to his dorm. He had a lot to do tomorrow. He almost hated that he only had a single day between his two days of classes. There was also the regret of putting all four classes on one day. At least he got Thursday through Sunday off to relax and do what homework he needed. Tuesdays were always full of him buckling down on homework, on top of Miss Manus’s tutoring. The tutoring, Galahad thought. He didn’t know if he had the time or strength for it. It would be best to skip it to not waste her time, he decided. He would manage without at this point. At least until he felt better. 
	Stepping from the cold and into the warmth of his dorm tower, Galahad’s shoulders slouched with relief. The biting cold was gone and he would soon be resting. That was all he wanted. There were only a few students in the common area. A few shared drinks and chattered about their classes and others worked in groups on their homework for Wednesday. Still a few just celebrated being on campus with dear friends again, “Galahad!” A voice called. 
	“Every time,” He muttered to himself.
	He was drawn over to a table with Suzie and Fredrik sitting side by side along with Mishta and an older halfling woman, “How was the first day?” The gold wizard asked. Galahad nodded and gave a thumbs up.
	“Have you been out all day-time?” Mishta asked, “How many classes?” The duelist held up four fingers.
	“Lordy,” The halfling made a worried face.
	“Loading up on extra classes already?” Suzie smirked, “You’re gonna burn out quick. Hey, come grab some dinner with us and a few others, I’m sure you’re famished after such a long day.”
	Galahad shook his head, “Not hungry.”
	“Bull!” The halfling slapped a hand on the table, startling the man, “You didn’t even eat breakfast, much less lunch! I can tell!”
	Fredrik chuckled behind his handsome mask, “We’ll bring something back for him. I understand you are ill, friend, but you still need to eat. Go rest, I will bring something by your room when I get back.”
	The group started to scoot their chairs out and pack their bags to go to the mess hall, “Thanks,” Galahad nodded, “Tell Manus I’m canceling tomorrow, if you–” He started to have another coughing fit, prompting the others to give him a wide berth. He sighed as they filed out and made his way to his room. Knowing now that he needed to wait for someone to deliver food to him, Galahad went to his desk. He got to work on his transmutation homework, leaving the abjuration and potion making for tomorrow. He spent what little mana he had left trying to form the ice sphere in the glass. Several tries resulted in closer and closer success, but he was being held back now and to unending frustration. Soon, Randy the rat scurried around the floor, tugging a rope toy behind him. He stood on his hind legs and batted at Galahad’s pants with pleading eyes. The man sighed and played tug of war with the rat for a time. Even such a light exertion completely drained him. Thankfully Randy was merciful today and only wanted a few moments of his time, having won the tug-of-war. Galahad moved from his stiff wooden chair and collapsed onto the plush couch, almost instantly falling asleep.

. . . . .

	“To get this ball rolling,” Miss Manus’s textbook floated before her as she moved her hand to draw an illusionary diagram in the air, “Take a look at this. In the world of magic, we acknowledge at least four basic realms beyond our own. This Earth is considered the center,” A blue and green globe appeared in the center with lines in all four cardinal directions leading to four question marks, “Who knows the four others that are considered to be directly attached to our realm?”
	Hands went up in her highschool level class. Modern Theoretical and Applied Magicks was one of Miss Manus’s favorites to teach. She snapped her crystalline fingers and a light shined down on a boy in the middle, “Uh, the Fey Lands.”
	“A correct, albeit easy answer,” Manus teased. A dusk or dawn covered landscape appeared to the left of the Earth, “A chaotic, yet peaceful land full of pranks and four countries, one for each season. I hail from the frozen kingdom of Alderia, if you were wondering. Another?” 
	She snapped her fingers again and a beast woman had a light appear on herself, “The Onyx Sands.”
	“Ah, an awful place by many accounts. Devoid of food and water, the super heated black sands are considered quite evil because of the harsh sunlight and magical monsters that lie beneath the sands that make for a very hostile environment.”
	“Who decided that?” A devil with blue skin in the back asked.
T	he black sands appeared beneath the Earth on Manus’s illusionary chart, “Druids. A lot of their power comes from reaching out to the other realms and they always described the Onyx Sands as evil for many reasons. Two more, who has the answers? You.”
“High Tyirath.”
	“Excellent. A goodly mountain, bathed in the darkness of night and illuminated by the bright stars. The giants make their home there and some say it was built by the gods before they moved to their own realms,” A dark mountain appeared above the earth, “And lastly?” She looked at her students.
	“Golgon Chasm.”
	“You all studied as I asked,” Miss Manus had a little smile on her face, “It is the land of the undead. A fog and dark shadow are cast over it and the dead shamble about. Were they cursed? Placed there? No one is sure, but the land abides by the laws of death. According to the druids at least,” A grave was placed to the right of the Earth, “These are the main four realms closest to our own. We also have the four elemental realms. Air, rock, fire, water, they are beneath or behind the Earth in the layout of the realms. Opposite that, above we have heavens and hells, the more esoteric of lands. We will not concern ourselves with them today. For now, please read chapter four. We will be covering High Tyirath tomorrow. You are dismissed.”
	Chatter erupted from the teens as they filed out of the classroom. Miss Manus hummed to herself as she packed up her materials. Stepping slowly from the room, the fey-witch found herself in a lonely hallway without her usual underclassman waiting for her. Galahad was nowhere to be seen. Miss Manus’s skin turned from a sky blue to a deeper aqua as a frown crossed her face. 
Where was the duelist? He had never missed a lesson without informing her, had something happened? Was he still sick or… was he still upset with her that he would give up even on their tutoring? No, that couldn't be it, she decided, I will just have to wait here, perhaps he is simply running late.
	She stood against the wall to her classroom for a time, seconds turning to minutes, turning to ten. He really wasn't coming. The fey-witch sighed and looked at the clock, it was lunch time. Perhaps she would visit the cafeteria to ease her mind with some halfling cooking. If Galahad was avoiding her… well there was no use dwelling on it, it would only make her feel worse.

	The walk to the cafeteria was lively for a change; the people outside enjoying themselves in all sorts of ways. Students were practicing spells together, some were taking in the winter scenery of the Fairgarland trees donning their snowy coats. Some were on their way to other classes they had for the day. The walkways had magic runes on them to keep them from freezing over with ice, whilst also keeping the pedestrian wizards warm outside, still everyone had layered their clothing appropriately. Manus enjoyed seeing the people of Fairgarland dressed in warm cloaks and uniforms, in a way it reminded her of home. The men and women's rosy red cheeks, their ears hidden under their fur hats and earmuffs, some of them she couldn't even see their faces under the heavy cloaks and scarfs they had wrapped themselves in. It amused her a little when she saw a halfling that had to be helped into the cafeteria because he had so densely layered his clothing that he was practically stuck walking with his arms straight out. The poor man waddled in through both doors as two wizards held either one for him, yet he smiled and thanked them all the same. How on earth was he going to eat his food? Was he even going to be able to get out of that cocoon of coats? Maybe someone would be kind enough to help him out of them, she wagered. She went inside the cafeteria as well, unintentionally following the halfling and others until they entered. He went one way while Manus went another, going straight for the food she craved. A shepherd's pie would do her good to put her mind at ease.
	Soon, she had a plate with said pie and a chef’s salad. The fey woman looked for a seat, deciding to eat by herself, but due to how many students had returned and begun attending, finding a quiet seat would be difficult. Her eyes were drawn to a pair of familiar dwarves. She sighed and quietly took a seat with the two. Holmit and Angerdese were eating and tinkering with small metal objects. The dwarvish woman had a bronze music box in her hands and was fiddling with it quietly. Holmit on the other hand was bending a pin into place for the hinge on a locket that seemed to contain a faded black and white photo. The two had a pizza with mushrooms, olives, ham, and peppers between them with only a few slices taken and eaten by the two.
	Without either of the dwarves noticing her, Miss Manus cleared her throat, “Good afternoon, friends.”
	Holmit hastily put the locket away and nodded at his president, “Aye. A good afternoon.”
	“How has your first few days been, Manus?” Angerdese asked with a smile. Idly, she began to wind and play the music box. It was In The Hall of the Mountain King an old song from the 1800s. The music box, obviously enchanted, was able to play more than the usual calm dings of a simple music box. Soon an entire orchestra was joining in, albeit very quietly.
	“What a wonderful little music box, Angerdese,” Manus complimented, “My first days have been fine, classes and preparations for teaching are all going well. I taught about realms today,” She paused as the dwarves remembered to eat their pizza, “Have you seen, well… have you seen Galahad at all today?”
	“The beardling?” Holmit scratched his temple. 
	“I saw him last night before going to dinner,” The lady dwarf moved her faux beard out of the way to not drip pizza sauce on it, “Have you tried to call him or anything? He is in four classes.”
	“Aye, but he did drop the evocation class, he got into a scuffle with them,” Holmit reminded her, “Taught them a better lesson than their teachers! Don’t mess with the master!” He laughed at his own joke.
	Miss Manus frowned, “I am aware of that. Word spread quickly of that incident. That boy is always getting in trouble,” His words echoed in her mind: It's inevitable. She still didn’t quite understand what he had meant, but it was becoming clearer to her now. 
	“You mean humans are always getting into trouble,” Holmit said between bites of pizza. He was rolling the slices up and then biting them like italian burritos, “Surely you know of the great war that our kindred stopped. And all the bloody wars they had before that. Warlords, tyrants, thieves, demon worship, druidism, and even bards. Humans are always getting into and doing things they shouldn’t. You won’t see dwarves or the other races of men becoming… most of those things. Elves would though.”
	“Elves…” Angerdese shuddered as she echoed the words, “So evil and self indulgent. Humans aren't as bad as elves, at least.”
	“Aye, cheers to that, lassie!” The two dwarves downed some grog and chuckled.
	Miss Manus decided to not divulge the fact that she was roughly one eighth elven. She nodded, “I fear one of us is doing something foolish. But I would understand if he is mad at me now.”
	“Who cares if he is? Their emotions are as short as their lives,” Holmit rolled up another slice, “He will burn himself out or cool down.”
	“Yeah, he was only ever very angry for a short time, right?” Angerdese added, “When he had those outbursts, I mean.”
	"But if it was something I did it would be my responsibility to reconcile with him, would it not? Think about your people's customs, if I were to slight you in some way would it not fall on me to seek forgiveness?"
	This gave the two dwarves some thought as they chewed their food. "But what have you done that was wrong?" Asked Angerdese, "Are you sure he's not just sick?"
	"Aye, and even if he were cross with you for some unknowable reason, surely he's the one at fault for gettin' angry to begin with! When have you ever done wrong by anyone, Manus?" Holmit argued.
	“I–” Miss Manus bit her tongue, staying silent on how she felt that she nearly got him killed, “Just tell me, how does your culture apologize?”
	“Differs from clan to clan,” Angerdese adjusted her hair.
	Holmit nodded, “Aye. Offer him your sister in marriage and a cask of good liquor. A family heirloom. Or maybe a good amount of treasure.”
	“Either that or let him sock you one on the chin, I’ve known dwarves like that,” The dwarvish woman chuckled until she saw how white in the face Manus had become at the thought, “I-I doubt that he’d do something like that, though.”
	“I certainly hope not…” Manus muttered.
	“You could just talk to him, right? Like, you two have a pretty good relationship, don’t ya?” Angerdese suggested.
	Miss Manus looked down at her mostly finished food, “Perhaps that is the best option. I will just have to track him down after working up the courage. For now, I must prepare for my next class. Thank you for your time, friends.”
	The fey woman took her dishes to one of the bins and left the food hall. Her mind was wandering as she walked atop the snow scattered about campus. She was quick to go back to her dorm room and to the comfort of her cozy slippers until she had to go to her teaching class. Tea and a book were what she found comfort in for a time, even then she found her mind wandering as if voices were creeping in and whispering all of her doubts to her. She drowned it out with the flick of her wrist, putting a record on the player in the corner of the room and putting on some easy listening classical music. She buried her face and emotions in her reading.

Chapter 21