"I gotta hand it to ya, Lox, ya know yer alchemy," Blud said as the two filed out of the lab with the rest of the class. Galahad held in his hand two small containers for either of them, one being their first lesson: a healing salve. Since the class had done so well Professor Sh'Lak had decided to get them started on the next salve, Iron Skin balm. The duelist held them both close to examine them.
	"Well… they're no potions, but I suppose that's the appeal, you don't have to drink them,” It was Friday, just a bit before lunch and the two had finally finished the last of their homework, allowing them time to relax for the rest of the day and potentially the weekend. The two were bundled up in coats and scarves, Blud’s cowboy hat replaced with a warm fur-knit cap to protect his bald head from the chill winds of the day.
	"Good for nausea, headaches and the common cold," His goblin friend snarked with a grin, "I agree with ya, though, some of those potions taste worse than that halfling radish stew they serve in the cafeteria."
	"What, don't like vegetables?" Galahad teased, "How are you supposed to keep your vibrant green skin if you don't eat your veggies?" He had a coughing fit, but quickly recovered after bumping his chest with his fist.
	"Oh, that won't be a problem, Blud ate lots of boogers when he was little." Said Rald, who was waiting for the two outside.
	Blud's face turned red as he scowled at his sister who snickered at him. Galahad stifled his own laugh, "But he's still little," He snorted.
	"Exactly," Rald cackled, nudging their taller friend to prompt another laugh.
	"I'll wipe my nose on your scarf if you don't cut it out." Blud threatened, the green of his face now nearly gone in place of the red.
	"Alright, alright. How are you, Rald?" Asked the duelist, changing topics to defuse Blud's temper. Rald smiled and fell in step with the two as they walked across the campus.
	"I'm good. Sean and I just had a lovely chat over coffee. Just goin' over little details on our upcoming date!" The goblin girl was giddy at the thought while her brother snorted and rolled his eyes. 
	"She's completely head over heels for the guy, hasn't shut up about him since their last date." He grumbled to Galahad.
	"He must treat her right." The duelist inferred.
	"Oh boy," Blud grunted, stopping as the three reached the courtyard at the center of the ten houses. He climbed up onto the raised ground of the great oak and began his complaining anew, "He takes her to all these fancy places, with fancy dining and fancy entertainment. 'Oh, Sean, you're such a gentleman! Oh, Sean, you're so considerate! You’re walking too fast Sean!' I'm sick of hearing about it, sick to death, Lox!"
	"You might say he fancies her," a fourth voice joined in on their conversation. The three spun around to see Rita standing with each of her illusionist underclassmen appearing in a puff of smoke, snowballs in hand and impish smirks on their faces. They had surrounded the three at the great oak. Galahad let out a sigh before the imp grinned wildly and pointed at him. Galahd let his thick coat fall to the ground with heft, throwing up some powdery snow.
	“Get ‘em, boys!” She shouted, and the snowballs were hurled, each pelting one of the three friends. Rald ducked behind Galahad while Blud rushed to grab up snow of his own to throw, lobbing it at the nearest illusionist and landing a blow to his wool-wrapped head. Even Rald made a ball of snow and tossed it at one with a giggle, breaking it on their gut harmlessly. Galahad felt the snow break against his arm, the cold powder spraying over his sleeve onto his shoulder while three others nailed him squarely in the chest. He shivered, and retaliated, waving his hand forward at their ‘attackers.’
	WOOSH! FWOOM!
	A rush of wind and snow blasted forward at his command like a miniature blizzard, coating the illusionists in a thin layer of ice. They continued to throw their snowballs back and forth at one another, Galahad waving his hands again for another spray of icy fog, but Rita let out a yelp when the frosted wind ran over her. Her teeth clattered and her wings became stiff as she labored to keep herself in the air.
	“Alright, good j-j-job, everyone! R-Retreat!” She hollered, running away as fast as her frigid wings could carry her. Blud tossed his last snowball at them, watching it splat onto the ground behind the illusionists as they retreated laughing all the way. When they were gone, the three relaxed.
	“Looks like we won,” Blud gave a toothy smile, “They couldn’t handle the three of us!”
	“That was pretty fun,” Rald added, saving a snowball behind her back. “Maybe we should do that more often!” She quickly threw it at her brother when he looked away, the goblin turning to glare at her.
	“I dunno, maybe when I’m feeling better,” Galahad groaned, taking a seat at one of the nearby benches, “Yeesh that was cold.”
	The two goblins quickly joined their friend and sat down after Rald returned his coat to him, the three of them casting a heating spell of flame together to warm themselves up. The shared flame pulsed with a gentle warmth that thawed the cold they had been made to suffer.
	"Some prank Rita pulled, huh? Good thing she didn't let loose with the spells," Rald mused.
	"Sneakin' up on us couldn't have been easy." Blud nodded, "Having that many people cloaked invisibly is tough to coordinate."
	"I think she held back," Galahad said with a cough.
	"Cuz yer still sick?" Blud guessed, "Didn't think she was so thoughtful."
	Galahad nodded, "She's really not so bad as people make her out to be."
	"She's not one for bodily harm, but she doesn't respect people's property," Rald argued, "Not that she's done anything to me but I could see why people are upset with her at times."
	"Which is why I'm glad she's been targeting me," Galahad admitted, "It was my idea after all. I'm just glad it worked. I haven't heard anyone mention her breaking things or getting pranked-- well-- in any significant way anyway."
	"She's kept her word, sure, for now," Blud grumbled, “But I won’t hold my breath,” The three relaxed on the bench for a moment, watching as students went about their day, the courtyard bustling as students were ready for their weekend. Still, Galahad thought there were more students than usual, was something going on today? He shrugged and figured if it was important the two goblins would have told him. Still he decided to ask something to prompt them.
	"So what do you guys wanna do today? We could go get something to eat." Galahad suggested. Rald beamed at the thought, "Oh we could go get Sean, he should be in his dorm, maybe we can all go to lunch together!"
	"See? Obsessed," Blud shrugged. Galahad shook his head and chuckled with a cough. Clearly nothing spectacular was scheduled today, "Sure. It would be nice to have Sean tag along."
	The three quickly stood and went on their way toward House Maxamillion, passing a few students on the way around. Galahad watched as Rald practically skipped up the steps and knocked on the door, and soon enough it was answered by an abjurationist with a bored expression.
	"Oh, Rald. What a surprise." His monotone voice made it obvious to the two that it was not in fact a surprise. She must have come by daily, Galahad figured, and probably more than once.
	"I'm here to see Sean. I know my way," the lady goblin smiled. 
	"HEY, WARLOCK!" The name stung on everyone’s ears, an insult to someone's very character. Though who it was directed at was not clear, many of the students in the courtyard stopped what they were doing to find the source of this venomous vitriol. Even Rald stopped at the door to turn back and look, both Galahad and Blud staring up at a familiar evocationist standing before them. Galahad recognized him and the short griffonite beside him immediately. They were from that evocationist class Galahad had withdrawn from. The two were flanked on either side by half a dozen mages from Fritz’Eleo, each of them with their wands, staves and tomes drawn up looking for a fight. The contemptuous title had been directed at Galahad, that was made obvious by the one who had said it, his eyes glaring directly at the duelist. Most of the students retreated, not wanting to get involved while some ran off to get security. Galahad looked more confused than upset, though Blud was angry enough for both of them.
	"What the hell did you just call him, you filthy moss collector?!" He shrieked, reaching for his North Star spellslinger. Galahad grabbed the goblin’s wrist gently, yet firm enough to stop him.
	"Who are you calling Warlock, friend?" He called down to the leader, "Don't tell me you're still upset over our little scuffle in the classroom."
	"You got poor Nilboc expelled from that class," The ringleader accused him with a scowl.
	"No, I'm pretty sure he did that himself," Galahad recalled, "I was just there to learn."
	"You're such a liar! We know you cheated in the duel against Prince Harold, too," Nilboc piped up, before the taller of the two pat his shoulder, "I'm sure he did, Nilboc. I bet he had something to do with the Butcher, too, being a Warlock and all."
	Galahad suppressed a cough and looked to Rald who saw the intensity in his eyes and understood, quickly darting inside. The duelist and his goblin friend backed away from the abjurationists’ dorm and out into the open. His gaze fell on Blud who was now just as confused as he was, "Is this guy an idiot?” The goblin asked no one in particular. Galahad slowly released his friend’s wrist, the Goblin’s hand resting on his spellslinger.
	“Guess I didn’t realize I cooked your brain when I reflected that spell back on you. You’re completely delusional,” Galahad turned to answer, his hand inching towards the wand he kept in his sleeve. The leader glowered, his eyes searing into the duelist. Suddenly, as if on cue, the belltower began to ring, once, twice, and all the way until the twelfth bell tolled, acting as a countdown for the standoff.
	All at once, the eight evocationists let loose their spells, Galahad drew out his wand and cast a ward on both him and Blud, blocking the flames and thunder that came for them, while Blud drew out his spellslinger and fired it, striking Nilboc on the shoulder and throwing him back onto the ground with the raw magic energy.

. . . . .

	“This is my upcoming curriculum for the next few weeks,” Manus said, handing over a thin stack of papers to Headmaster Jasper Crixx. 
The construct glanced over the pages and smiled, “I see you’ve broken up some of the tests into smaller portions.”
	“I have discovered that it is easier for my younger students to retain more information in smaller intervals. Giving them smaller tests more often helps them remember what they’ve learned for the midterm and final tests.”
	“I’m just happy you’ve found something that works for your manner of teaching, Manus,” Headmaster Crixx beamed, “But does that not give you a bigger workload having to grade tests so often?”
	“I grade them right after the tests are taken, they are short and require only a few moments of time taken out of my class. I believe the anticipation is good for the students, a little anxiety over their grades is a nice change of pace,” The fey-witch explained.
	“Is that a hint of mischief I feel?” Asked Jasper, still smiling. 
Manus covered her mouth with one of her hands, “What ever could you mean?”
	“You’ve certainly changed over the last year, your glow has gotten brighter,” The headmaster said, “Perhaps something has happened?”
	“A lot has happened,” Manus replied before standing up, “I must be off, now, I have other duties to attend to for today,” After exchanging goodbyes the fey-witch exited the headmaster’s office, she spotted someone standing out in the hallway waiting for her. At first she thought it might have been Galahad, but she quickly realized that he was sporting a rather regal looking uniform for House Fritz’Eleo.
	“Harold,” She greeted curtly.
	“Miss Manus,” He replied, “Do you have a moment?”
	“I do not,” Manus answered before turning away.
“Wait, wait! I’m not here to court, I wanted to apologize,” He blurted out, following her to the stairs. Manus turned to look up into his eyes, wondering if this was some sort of trick. Harold stopped short and stared back, waiting until she was satisfied. 
	“Then say what you came to say,” She sighed, finding his plea genuine. 
	Harold cleared his throat and pulled on his collar, “I’m uh… Well, I’m not really sure how, but I wanted to ask your forgiveness for how I have been acting in the past. I realize what a selfish fool I’ve been recently and… I wanted you to know I am trying my best to forget my feelings for you. I know now that it has caused you trouble to no end and I do not wish to be a burden to you, so I am most sorry.”
	The fey woman stared at the prince, who stood awkwardly in the hall waiting for her response, “Well,” She nodded, “I do appreciate you apologizing. I will accept this on the condition that you are truthful with me on this."
	"O-of course. I would not lie to you." He replied. She raised a brow, but smiled nonetheless.
"Walk with me, Harold,” The two continued down the hallway and down the stairs, “I imagine something must have come up?”
	"Nothing in particular. More like things were put into perspective after what happened with the Butcher. I've come to understand my faults as of late and appreciate yours and Loxley's relationship. He is the better man," He admitted somberly.
	Manus gave him a sideways glance. "Relationship? We are strictly teacher and student," She replied with a cold demeanor.
	Harold put his hands up defensively, "Fine, fine, I did not come to argue. Regardless, I have decided not to interfere and instead I wish to extend my hand in friendship between our houses. I will have need of Karak-Albrac's diligent hands if I am to achieve my latest goal."
	"And that would be?" She asked him to continue. 
Harold cleared his throat again, "W-well, please do not laugh, but instead of squabbling over what little time we have between ourselves for lab privileges , I have devised a plan to make labs for each House. With the help of the abjurationists and your transmutationists we can end these foolish games over petty politics, at least as far as the accessibility for the student body's education is concerned."
	Manus sighed, "I will not laugh, Harold, but I will say that as much as I wish to see that happen I do not think it will come to pass."
	"And why shouldn't it? No one in the presidential body will argue against it," The prince asserted. Manus had to admit his passion when directed elsewhere was refreshing, but perhaps a little misguided. Still, she knew he had the drive to do it.
"How will any of us afford it?" She asked with a frown, curious to hear the conviction in his plan, "I like the idea but it simply is not feasible."
	"I'll dare to make it reality, or at least try. If you are worried about finances I am figuring that out, but when I do, would you help me?” The two left the northern building soon before the noon bell rang.
	“I do not see why we do not all help. Perhaps we will find a way to–” Miss Manus stopped as she gazed wide-eyed at the cluster of students that had formed. A loud BANG rang across campus as spells flew back and forth. A fight had broken out right in front of House Maxamillion, with students scattering in all directions, away and to the fight. Harold stopped short, his jaw dropping at the sight. It had been some time since there was an out and out spell brawl at Fairgarland. He looked to Manus who gasped when she saw who was at the center of it all.
	"Galahad!" She yelped, readying to rush out to him. Harold grabbed her by the hand and pulled her back, "No! Stay here! It's too dangerous!" He ordered her, drawing up his staff and rushing into the fray.
	Spells flew in every direction, some bounding into students, leaving them stunned while others fizzled out on the cobblestones. A branch from the great tree at the center had been set aflame and several evocationist and transmutationists fought the flames with any water they could conjure. Sean came bounding out of his tower with Rald close behind him, casting Arthur Maxamillion's breathtaker on several students who had joined in on the fight while the other abjurationists bound the rest with their wards. Blud had spent his bullets and was now pulverizing one of the smaller students in a fit of rage until someone pulled him off. Harold spotted Galahad locking spells with one of his underclassmen. He had strength enough to protect himself but he was faltering and fast. The prince let loose a jolt of lightning, enough to stun his target. He nailed the evocationist in the side, toppling him over and giving the duelist much needed space to breathe.
	"WHAT ARE YOU FOOLS DOING?!" Harold Babarry roared, projecting his voice while grabbing the evocationist by his collar and lifting his stiff body up to meet him, "Fighting in the courtyard? Have you all lost your wits?! You could be expelled!" He boomed, scattering more students fearful of his warning. When the student in his clutches clammed up, still twitching from the shocking spell he tossed him into the grass and turned away from him.
	"Loxley, what's going on here?" He asked the duelist, "Are you hurt?"
	"I'm fine!" Galahad snapped defensively.
	"You're bleeding." Harold pointed out, "We need to get you to the infirmary."
	"Leave me be, Harold, this was probably your doing anyway."
	"I'm sorry you feel that way, but I assure you I had nothing to do with this," Harold denied, "And you're turning pale as a ghost. Come along." He held out his hand to Galahad, but the duelist refused to take it, his guard still up. Harold groaned and looked to Manus who despite his warnings had made her way over to them anyway. He shook his head, "There's no time for stubbornness, would you go if Miss Manus took you?"
Galahad thought for a moment, still wary of the prince. Blood dripped down the side of his face, staining his hair and pale skin. He nodded slowly, taking small steps toward the fey-witch. As he drew near, a spell was thrown between the two. When Harold looked, it was the student he had stunned moments ago. He had recovered quicker than he had anticipated, but his aim was off and he had fired a firebolt at Manus instead of Loxley. Harold turned, his face going white. Galahad had seen it too and was reacting as quickly as he could. The prince could only watch in horror as Galahad pushed the fey-witch out of the way and took the bolt in the gut, falling to his knees and then onto his face with a thud where he remained motionless. Harold turned and whipped a blast of mana at Galahad's attacker, batting his head once. He was out cold. 
	Everyone’s veins turned to ice as Miss Manus shrieked in horror, the white snow had turned red around Galahad. She felt dizzy as she knelt next to him. The next few minutes were a blur to her as people barked orders to one another and everyone was cleared out by the arrival of security. The only thing she remembered was Harold, Sean, his two goblin friends and a few other students lifting him up to take him to the infirmary. She followed after them, but she didn't remember what was said to her, she couldn’t remember the last time she drew in breath. It all happened so fast, and as if time had stopped and started again she found herself in the infirmary hoping that the healers could help Galahad. That he would be alright.

. . . . .

	When Miss Manus’s mind cleared, she found herself still in the infirmary, sitting on an uncomfortable chair.
	“He got lucky,” Percy sighed before getting distracted, “Focus a bit harder over here, Rald."
	“Sorry,” The goblin woman whimpered.
	“That bolt he took lacked a lot of power,” The halfling healer continued to the few listeners in the room, “Mister Loxley here, without any mana in his system, had very little innate resistance to magic. Had the bolt been stronger, it could have easily gone through his skin, organs, ribs, so on and so forth and out the other side. It's still a somewhat deep wound, but Rald’s quick plugging of his tissue lessened the bleeding tremendously,” He waved his hands over the duelist’s stomach, a dark glow emanating from his palm, “You did good stopping the internal bleeding, Miss Raxpedialia. Finish up that new flesh and he should be good.”
	Miss Manus sat in the corner as Sean held a gentle, comforting hand on her shoulder. Blud sat on the floor and held his legs to his chest. Two healing students, a beastman of the rabbit variety and half-elf, took notes on Percy’s words, new volunteers to work in the infirmary. The group was in a small two bed infirmary room. The curtain that divided the room was pulled back. Rald had pulled her coat off and the sleeves on her now bloodied red turtleneck. The goblin’s hands were glowing a sickly green. As her mana rapidly drained, a splotch of gray, dull skin appeared on where Galahad’s had been singed off. She panted as the casting ceased, “There. Done.”
	Percy nodded, “Good. Your training is paying off, Rald,” He waved some magic over the wound again, “That’s as good as it can get. Administer some mana to him and let the boy be. That’s all we can do for now.”
	With a nod, Rald picked up an iv bag full of a light blue, sparkling, and viscous liquid. She hung it from a rod and attached the drip line to Galahad’s arm with a small specially made and enchanted golden needle. The concentrated, synthetic mana started to seep into him through the magical bit. Blud made a face, “Ugh, I hate those things. The fake mana, the painful needle,” He shivered softly.
	“It's better than the sickness that comes from being without mana,” Sean offered quietly, “Is there nothing to be done about… this?” Sean used his staff to gesture at the black marks on Galahad’s torso. The wounds he had sustained from the butcher, lacerations to his chest, and a large pierce wound on his shoulder had both turned black and almost oozed the same black gunk that had been near the Butcher’s portal. 
	“Well,” Percy wiped sweat from his forehead and pinched his nose, “I’ve never seen this before. It's obviously some kind of magical illness or disease. No one else who wound up in that freak’s realm came out with wounds like this.”
	“Harold had a few but not nearly this bad,” Sean explained, “I do not think this… dark magic got on him.”
	“Lemme guess, the prince went to some of the best healers around?” Percy sighed, “I’ll request a hearing with one of those upper crust doctors to seek a cure. I’m sure they graduated from here anyway. Maybe I’ll call a priest too,” The halfling made the sign of the cross on his body, “I’m tired of demons, undead, and especially fairies– I mean, the bad kind, Miss Manus.”
	The fey-witch simply nodded along, her mind obviously somewhere else. Percy gripped a rosary he wore for but a moment, “Any who. I will stop crowding the boy. Take all the time you need, but please let him rest.”
	The halfling shoved his hands into the pockets of his white lab coat and hobbled from the room with his two students in tow. As soon as her mentor was gone, Rald felt like she was going to faint, gripping onto Sean to stabilize herself, “I’m so hungry,” She whined.
	“That’s all you can think about?” Blud wrung his hat in his hands, “Food?”
	“I just healed him for thirty, no, forty minutes, Blud!” 
	“Cease this!” Sean hissed at the goblins, making both of them flinch and sheepishly look up at him, “Stop acting like children. We are all worried, but he will recover. We'll get you some food so you can regain your strength, Rald.”
	“Sorry…” Rald leaned against his leg.
	“Yeah…” Blud rubbed his green face and scratched his bald head. "I'll go get some food for all of us. I need some air, anyway. Manus, uh, call for me if you need me. Or if he does.”
"Take a few of my abjurationists. I don't want you getting into trouble," Sean ordered. The goblin nodded and made for the door, looking back at his friend on the bloodied bed before he left. As he exited the infirmary he saw Harold and a couple abjurationists standing outside waiting patiently for any news.
	“Your president wants ya ta follow me, ‘keep me outta trouble,’ or whatever.” The goblin called to Sean’s underclassmen. They nodded and fell in line with him wordlessly.
	"Is Loxley alright?" The question came out in a rush, but Harold couldn't help himself. 
	Blud looked at him and nodded. "I think he'll be alright. Surprised you care."
	"I'm… sorry. Is there anything I can do for him?" The prince asked.
	"Yeah. Just let him rest," The goblin said before retreating towards the cafeteria.
	As he heard the other goblin start to whine inside the infirmary, Harold turned himself invisible with a tap on his ring finger. Sean sighed, “Yes, yes, alright we can get you a steak. And a nap. Of course we can dryclean your new turtleneck,” Sean cooed as he carried her in his arms and outside. She was being carried like a cat as he crossed his arms. Her arms stuck straight out and her legs dangled as she nestled into the abjurationist’s arms. Whatever Sean saw in her, Harold hoped it wasn’t some kind of pet. Actually, in a weird way that was probably exactly what it was. Someone to care for. The prince chuckled under his breath, slipping into the infirmary before the door closed.
	Miss Manus was left alone in the small room. The door was cracked, and the dim lights overhead buzzed softly. She took her hat and cloak off and set them on the second bed with its clean white sheets. Her hands all wrung their pair. Six hands, years of magic training, and I still feel powerless now, She thought, “Such a fool,” She whispered to her sleeping duelist. Her fingers brushed against the rubbery black gunk on him, “And for my sake, no less.”
	Gears inside the witch’s mind turned. Galahad’s mana was still very low, that much was obvious as she gently touched him. The mana entered his arm, but seemed to seep away with the black marks on his chest. Manus moved the gold needle to his other side. Now the mana flowed. She looked to the door as it creaked softly before looking him over again. Life seemed to return to his pale skin slowly. The dark magic needed to go, “What to do…?” The witch could only wonder.
	As she poked and prodded more, she tried to attain any kind of magical information from her examination. Galahad suddenly gasped and curled up in the bed. His hand gripped his shoulder with a pained look on his face. He panted heavily before falling back into the bed, sweat quickly began to pour down his face, “It hurts. Horribly,” He wheezed before going into another coughing fit. 
	Three of Manus’s hands gripped his digits on his bad arm, “Galahad…” Tears welled up in her eyes, “Why must you hurt yourself for me? You need not do that.”
	“And let you get hurt? Not happening,” He smirked before coughing again.
	"Percival made it sound like it was not very strong, it likely would not have penetrated my skin," She replied, "I would not have been as hurt as you."
	"I couldn't take that chance," he answered stubbornly, "You're much too pretty to waste away on a bed like this. Sometimes–" A sudden bout of dizziness made Galahad stop speaking suddenly.
	"You really are a fool," She giggled, wiping her eyes, "Truth be told I was worried you were beginning to dislike my company. I thought you had begun to hate me for what I did for the Ghillie Dhu…"
	"I may have disagreed with you, but I don't hate you, Miss Manus. I was worried for everyone's safety. For your safety," Galahad sighed bitterly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you that impression, it's just these wounds… I've been so tired and sick lately that I haven't had the energy to do anything… I thought maybe it had gotten a little better, but…" The duelist looked down as best he could at the blackened gunk in his cuts and scrapes, "It seems to have festered."
	"Then let us be rid of it," The fey-witch said, gently pushing his head back down on his pillow before spreading her six arms across his chest, "You may wish to close your eyes," She warned before she began to hum and speak again in that ancient fey tongue the night she cured the Ghillie Dhu. Her hands glowed with a marvelous blue light like stars being cast across the room. Galahad closed his eyes. They were so bright and he felt a cold chill come over him. He grunted, pain shooting through his body as the icy magicks ensnared him. The pain gave way to a pleasantness that he had not felt in weeks, his body still, yet relaxed even as his blood ran cold. It was an unnatural cold, one that was gentle, it did not sting anymore, it did not numb him or threaten to freeze him to his bones, he could feel it in the mana within his body. It was like a cool breeze on a hot summer day, a refreshing dip in the brook after a day of work in the blistering sun. He could feel the black ooze pulled from his body, it fought unnaturally against her but still she drew it out, the dark magicks dissipating into the ether within Manus' many hands. Though he was still recovering from his wound he felt reinvigorated, a strength he hadn't felt since his fight with the Butcher. Mana returned to him in full and his body felt light as a feather. When Manus stopped her magic, Galahad sat up immediately.
	"It's gone!" He laughed, "You… you healed me!"
	"I had to try. I was worried it would not work before… but seeing you in such a state I could not help but try," Manus said with a smile, "I am glad that it worked."
	"You know… I'm not quite back to a hundred percent, maybe a kiss would help?" Galahad teased his teacher.
	"Perhaps if you do well in your studies you will receive another," She dared to goad him on.
	"You promise?" He asked.
	"Are you asking me to?" She replied.
	"That depends, do you want to be bound by a silly promise?" Galahad asked, knowing the answer already. Manus knew this, and yet she allowed a smile to cross her lips.
	"I gave you the one before, I cannot lie about that. Yes, Galahad, I will promise you another kiss for good grades."
	"So is that like, a B?" Now Galahad was being mischievous, and she knew it.
	"An A, Galahad," She added quickly, "I will settle for no less. And an A minus does not count."
	"On the note of teaching," Galahad sat up on the edge of his bed, testing his legs. When he was satisfied he stood up and stretched his body, wincing from his back but otherwise standing strong.
	"I want to teach you something," He announced. 
	Manus eyed him curiously, standing up beside him, "What would you have me learn, Galahad?"
	"I want to teach you abjuration."
	"You do?" The fey seemed more confused than anything, "Why on earth would you want to do that? I have never really tried abjuration before…"
	"All the better. I want to teach it to you so that this doesn't happen again," He jabbed a thumb back at his backside, "If you know abjuration and can protect yourself you won't have a fool like me jumping in the way to rescue you all the time. Not to mention there are several other applications for it, pocket dimensions for one."
	"Yes I am well aware, it is just– this is all so sudden." 
	"I know. It struck me when I was… Well… Struck that you didn't know abjuration. I intend to change that."
	"I have not even accepted the idea, yet, Galahad," Manus protested. 
	"Yet," He echoed the word, "Wouldn't you like to know how I do it?" He enticed her with his knowledge, which the fey was receptive to, her interest piqued.
	"I admit the thought had crossed my mind. But what if I am bad at it?"
	"I'm bad at transmutation, so what? Did you stop tutoring me?"
	"Well, no, of course not."
	"The only way to get better is to practice, right? And look at you with your six arms, you already have an advantage. I can already see it now, The Multifold Manus and her impenetrable sixfold ward."
	"Alright, you have made your point, Galahad, your logic is sound if not soaked in flattery…"
	"Anything to get you to say yes," The duelist smirked, "I gotta pass along my knowledge to somebody."
	"You make it sound as if you might die soon," Manus sighed.
	"If I keep taking hits like this I just might. But if I teach you how to ward like me you might say you have my back," His grin widened. The fey buried her face in five of her hands, one of them grabbing up her hat to whip him with it, "I was right, you really are a fool. Healing you with fey magic was a mistake, it has made you rife with whimsy and nonsense."
	"That would certainly explain the lightness I'm feeling," The duelist concurred, "So we can start learning abjuration now or after our next tutoring session."
	"I think you should get some more rest, you're not fully recovered, yet," Manus cautioned. 
	Galahah sighed and nodded, sitting back down on the bed. "Alright. But I can still teach you the basics. Come on, Manus, I have all this energy and nowhere to spend it."
	"Oh, very well. How do I make a ward?"
	"Alright, that’s simple. A ward is an outward projection of your mana, like a shield. Think of every time you've ever flicked a light on with magic by simply gesturing at it, a ward isn't that much different. It's concentrating that mana around you instead of in a straight line to your objective, like this," He said before waving his hand and distorting the space between them. The ward hummed lightly before Galahad, its body near imperceptible but for the distortions it made at the edges.
	"It takes a little concentration at first but when you get the hang of it, it's as simple as putting up your hand," He smiled. Manus looked at his hands, noticing the blue mana salts from years of use. 
	"You have had some time to practice. Will it take me so long to master this?"
	"What, wards? Oh no, they're pretty easy. The harder ones are the ones I used in the duel against Harold. They're less about how much mana you put in, versus learning the specific mana signature of your opponents and timing it just right to deflect the spell. Which is exactly what those are called: deflecting wards," Galahad explained. "We won't worry about those for a while."
	"You certainly are knowledgeable about this."
	"I should hope so. I've spent most of my short life learning abjuration," Galahad admitted, "Why don't you give it a try. Go ahead, it's safe to practice indoors," He encouraged her. The fey sighed and transmuted one of her arms into that of crystals, but Galahad shook his head, "No, without the catalyst. Warding is something you should learn with your real hands, so you can do it at a moment’s notice," He said, "That way you can never be caught off guard."
Manus pursed her lips, but she nodded and undid her transmutation, "Wise words."
	"My father's words," He replied. "Every abjurationist will tell you the same thing."
	She held out her arm and let out her mana, firing off a small burst of energy toward Galahad. He felt the air move around him, cool against his skin. He smiled, "Try to focus it from the center of your hand and out. Imagine a shield,” The fey-witch did as instructed, pushing her mana out from her palm going up toward her fingers and down toward the floor. It came out small, misshapen and full of holes. Manus frowned where Galahad smiled, "You did it!" He cheered quietly.
"It looks more like swiss cheese," Manus complained.
	"That's because you're trying to conserve your mana and you're letting it out in small doses. This isn't like transmutation, Manus, this is a ward. It doesn't need an equation of perfectly measured portions, it needs your raw mana. Give it another shot and don't hold back."
	"I have… never done that before," she confessed.
	"Yes you have. Just when you healed me, treat it just like that.”
	“Like this?”
	“Yes, yes, just like that! We–” Galahad stumbled once he tried to get out of bed, falling into his new student.
	“Galahad!” She cried, catching him and pushing him back onto the bed. 
	He laughed and laughed before coughing once more, the whimsy and lightness leaving him, “Ooooh…” He groaned.
	“Once again, you are a fool,” Miss Manus admonished him, “You need to rest, Galahad.”
	Galahad shook his head, “I can do so in my room, now let me–”
	“Absolutely not!” The fey raised her voice.
	“Oh, come on! I need to feed Randy!”
	“Suzie can do that. Rest.”
	“But…”
	Manus held a finger to his lips, silencing him, “Hush. Rest. We will take you back to the dorm once Percy has cleared you.”

	Harold smiled to himself, watching the two from the cracked door. Manus' many failed attempts at creating a ward was charming, and the way her eyes sparkled when she formed one – albeit wavering, was awe inspiring. Their bonding was infectious, yet he dared not interrupt them. Even though he had resolved to let her go, it hurt a little to see her happy with someone else. Still, it was nice to know that she was in fact happy and that they were both in each other's care. He decided now he would take his leave, speaking with Loxley would have to wait for another day.

Chapter 23