Eight o’clock. The arena had a few dim lights shining down onto the court. The floor had been set up for a game of tennis and the floor was made of a hard clay. It wasn’t this way due to Harold, after all the sports club had only just left, but he thought it might put Galahad at ease for their meeting. He even purchased and wore plainclothes for just the occasion, though he felt woefully underdressed without his usual wizard's suit and robes. Harold wondered if that was why he was nervous at least in part. It really came as no surprise. Thinking back on the way he had been acting, surely it would have been strange or suspicious that he would ask Loxley to meet him here specifically. He could have met him anywhere, but in his own defense he did not want their conversation to be interrupted by the underclassmen of his own house, fools that they had been as of late. Still, the uneasiness was affecting him with an anxious energy and he began to pace the court. When the door to the arena opened his heart began to race. Was it Loxley? No, just someone who had forgotten something of theirs after leaving the sports club for the night. Harold checked his watch. Only a few minutes had passed, he was simply being paranoid. Loxley will show, he told himself, he's a better man than you gave him credit for.
	Sure enough, the door swung open once more and Harold's watchful eyes found what they were looking for. Loxley came in, his cloak loosely wrapped around him. To Harold he looked ready for some kind of ambush. That stung a little, but he tried not to show it, it was his own fault after all. He decided to take it gracefully and smiled, at least he showed up at all, “Loxley!” He called to him with a wave, “I am glad you could come!”
	“What's this about?” He asked curtly as he approached, still wary of what Harold might do, “If you called me out here to fight you could have been upfront about it.”
	Harold put up his hands defensively, “I do not wish to fight you! I simply wanted to talk,” He replied, mustering up as friendly a tone as he could. Galahad looked him over for a moment and quickly noticed how he had been dressed. This seemed to confuse him for only an instant before he turned his attention back on Harold.
	“What is it that you want?” He asked, relenting. 
	Harold's smile widened. He had considered what he would say to Loxley for some time now, and now it was time to finally say it, “Well, you see, I wanted to thank you for your bravery in rescuing the students. I never got the chance to say so, but I feel you saved my life several times through that incident as well,” He began, studying Galahad's face for a brief moment before continuing, “With that being said, I want to apologize for the way I have treated you in the past. It was unbecoming of me to act in such a manner and reflected poorly on House Fritz’Eleo, and the Babarry name.”
Galahad stared in disbelief, “Where's all this coming from?”
	“As I said, I believe you saved my life, Loxley. I misjudged you, and for that I am deeply sorry. I would like for us to start over.”
	Galahad scoffed and shook his head, “I don't know what to say. I never expected you to say anything like this.”
	“I understand, I imagine it would be quite the shift from our usual exchanges,” Harold grimaced, “I have no excuse for that.”
	Galahad was silent for a time, looking the prince over. Harold practically held his breath waiting for an answer. After a time it finally came.
	“If you want to start over, you're going to have to apologize to my friends, too, otherwise this means nothing to me,” Galahad finally answered. “The things you have done to me I can forgive, they are water under the bridge, but what you have said to my friends will stain any good will we have between each other.”
“Then… I will apologize to them immediately!” Harold replied hastily, a panic in his heart beginning to form. Which friends, what had he said? Where could he find them?
	“They're goblins,” Galahad added, gauging the prince's reaction. Harold stopped himself from balking at the thought. He remembered, they were with Loxley all the time, how could he forget? He took a deep breath and nodded, exhaling sharply.
	“I will accept this all on one condition, Harold.” Galahad continued, stopping the prince's thoughts in their tracks, “I will only know you're genuinely sorry if you bow to them when you apologize.”
What? Was a simple apology not enough? Was what he had said and done to his friends so truly awful that it required him to lower himself to demi-humans in such a way? This had thrown the prince for a loop, and his head began to spin with conflicting reactions. Why should he apologize in such a way? But… he truly wanted to prove how genuine he was about this whole thing! He had to do it! But… what about his family? What would they think? Surely they would find out about this eventually. The prince bowing to a couple of goblins, it would shame the Babarry name. But…
	Before the prince could finish his thoughts the doors to the arena opened again, and in came one of Loxley's goblin friends and the only sectare at the academy. 
	“Oh, hey Lox!” The goblin called to Galahad, who looked at Harold and gestured for him to give it a try. Harold's face turned red, his embarrassment plain to see. “I am sorry, Loxley… it's too much for me right now… please give me some time.” He muttered before stepping away. Loxley put a hand on his shoulder, gently but firmly pulling him back. When he looked, his eyes gave the prince the impression that after facing the Butcher together he wasn't going to let him run away.
“Hey Blud, I see you found Reccoa,” Galahad replied with a smile.
	“Was never lost,” Reccoa laughed, “ Just busy studying.”
Galahad looked to Blud who shrugged with a dumb smile on his face. The duelist shook his head and thought it best to drop it, “You guys here to duel?”
	“Yessums! We have rematch! You judge?” The sectare sorceress asked, while Blud ran off to change the arena for dueling.
	“Why not? Harold here can help me, too!” The duelist said with a grin. Harold began to sweat, pulling at his collar, “Yes, I suppose I could do that.”
	“Harold?” Echoed Blud, looking back at the duelist and the plainclothes man beside him. He had to double take before he realized it really was the prince, “What the hell is he doin’ here?”
	“Long story. We're working things out so be nice,” Galahad answered, giving the prince a hefty slap on the shoulder. Harold shrugged him off and forced a smile, watching the court change to a flat, sand-dusted dueling ring, “Yes, I wanted to… smooth things over between us.”
	“Well, good luck with that,” Blud replied, his tone oozing with sarcasm. Reccoa took one side of the arena, remaining blissfully out of the conversation. Her mind was completely focused on the sparring match the two were about to have.
	Galahad looked to Harold who was looking down at the floor, his jaw clenched tightly as he was willing himself up to an apology. Now might be the best time, Harold told himself, there was only the three of them, the news wouldn't spread too fast… or would it? They all had their own sphere of friends, who's to say it wouldn't reach the ear of someone like Carly? Prince Harold Babarry, forced to bow down before a goblin by the duelist who had defeated him. His family would surely find out then. Would he even be able to go home? Was Loxley doing this to shame him? Was this all a trick to drag his name through the mud? Had he misjudged the duelist again?
	“Listen, Harold. I appreciate all of this, but don't force yourself,” Galahad broke through his thoughts, “This won't mean anything to either of us if you don't want to do it. We don't have to be friends, but we don't have to be enemies, either,” Said the duelist, “And besides, it's not like I set a time limit.”
	Harold took a deep breath and nodded again, “Thank you, Loxley.”

	“I can duel you without this,” Blud offered, holding his North Star revolver up. Reccoa shook her head, “Keep it, make it challenge!” She smiled, putting a hand over it.
	“You won’t get mad if I win again, will you?” The goblin smiled weakly, gently placing the North Star in its holster. Reccoa shook her head, “I not get mad. You not get mad either,” She quickly skipped over to her side of the ring. Blud gave her a nod and took his position opposite of her.
	“Alright you two, I don't want a repeat of last time,” Galahad called to them, “This is just for fun, no need to get too serious. Harold will be watching, too, and he’ll give you some pointers where you need ‘em.”
	“Whatever you say, Lox,” Blud called, practicing a quickdraw or two before he stood at the ready. Reccoa looked calm, her fighting stance reflecting her state of mind. Galahad looked expectantly at Harold who cleared his throat, “You may begin,” He announced.
	At once Blud pulled his North Star and let off several shots of magically charged rounds, each of them aimed for Reccoa. The sectare swiped her arm and in an instant a wave of fire ripped through the goblin’s shots and consumed them in flaming mana. It roared out and went straight for the goblin, Blud quickly dodging to the side in a panic. He fired off more shots, but Reccoa was faster, her flames blocking his attack while simultaneously putting pressure on him to continue dodging. Galahad's eyes were following everything, his intense gaze darting between the two combatants. Harold couldn't help but stare at the sectare throughout the match. She was a sorceress, her ability to control flames would not be that outlandish, but there was something strange going on. As a sorceress he expected her to have some control over her emotions, but not a lack of them. Was she good at hiding her emotions during a fight? He had not seen any sorcerer do that before, but it wasn't unheard of. Maybe she had learned how to do so in the past few weeks to better mask her motives while fighting?As he considered this, his thoughts were interrupted by Galahad calling a winner to the first round, with Blud having been forced out of the ring.
	“Good moves back there, Reccoa,” He cheered, “Blud, you gotta get better at your footwork, and not rely on that gun so much, or she'll just overwhelm you again.”
	The goblin grumbled and adjusted the cowboy hat he had been wearing so often. After a moment he reset on his side of the ring and grinned, ready for another bout, “I was just goin’ easy on ‘er!” He chuckled. 
Reccoa frowned, “No easy! Real fight or no fight!” She demanded.
	“You were holding back, too!” Blud retorted, “Even I noticed that!”
	Harold considered that for a moment, so she was holding back? He looked to Galahad who seemed to agree with the goblin, “There's no need to go all out, you'll just hurt each other.”
	“Well I want her to give me her best shot!” Blud argued, “I can take it!”
	Reccoa's frown deepened, “Then you give me best, too! Only fair!”
	Harold held up a hand to Galahad before he could protest, “It will be alright. You know healing magicks, and you're no slouch with abjuration, if something looks dangerous we can both step in.”
	The duelist thought for a moment, then nodded, “Alright.”
	“I will take the side of your goblin friend and you take the side of the beetle woman. Agreed?” Before Galahad could answer, Harold had already marched over to Blud's side of the ring, taking his place behind the goblin while Galahad hesitated before making his way behind the sectare.
	“Alright, you can begin!” Harold called. He watched Blud fire several shots off again, but this time he zigged and zagged, dodging around the ring as fast as he could. In his other hand, the goblin cooked up a lightning bolt that he fired wide, curving it back around Reccoa's defenses. Harold nodded, impressed with the maneuver, but would it work on his opponent? She had lit a wall of flame up and easily deflected the shots, but the lightning bolt glanced her side, Galahad stepping out of the way for it to strike the wall behind them and absorb into it. He looked to Harold, who shook his head. It wasn't enough to do too much damage to Reccoa, and the sectare woman's face betrayed no harm. Instead she returned the attack by holding up her arm, her hand to her shoulder straight, a flaming lance engulfing it. She reared back, ready to stab it forward at the goblin who braced himself.
	Harold began to panic, what was this fool doing?! He ran forward and threw him aside, holding up a ward as best as he could. He could see the same look in Galahad's eyes as he threw up a barrier of his own, stopping the woman from thrusting it forward.
	“What the hell do you two think you're doing?!” The duelist roared, forcing the sorceress’ spell to fizzle and fail, “This is a duel not an execution!”
	“What are you guys getting so damn wound up over?” Blud yelled, stomping his feet, “You're just getting in the way! Let us finish our duel!”
	“You little idiot,” Harold found himself yelling at the goblin, “Do you have any idea what kind of spell that is?! It would have killed you! And you! What in God's name do you think you're doing bringing that spell out in here? Are you two not friends? You would have burned him up so badly nothing would have brought him back!”
Reccoa relented, dropping to her knees, “But… no holding back.”
	“This isn't some big duel! This is just a sparring session and you guys are treating it like some kind of deathmatch!” Galahad scolded them, “What's gotten into you?”
	“Alright already! Give it a rest!” Blud hollered, “We'll bring it down a few notches, right, San?”
	“I think it best we call it a night,” Harold suggested, “I refuse to mediate a duel when you are both so reckless. You should think about your actions tonight and improve, until you learn some self-control, I don't think either of you should be dueling.”
	“I hate to say it but I agree,” Galahad said, “You two can still attend my dueling club but you won't be fighting each other any time soon.”
	Blud looked deflated, as did Reccoa, the two looking to one another for a time before shaking their heads.
	“You guys're overreacting, whatever. Let's go, San, we can do some cooking at my place,” The goblin said, walking over to the sectare to offer his hand. She smiled, taking it and walking with him out of the arena, leaving the the prince and the duelist standing beside themselves.
	“What kind of person is that sorceress?” Asked Harold, still completely astounded. 
Galahad shook his head, “I don't really know, now. She was kind, but rather frustrated with her magic. I have to wonder what kind of practice she’s been doing.”
	“Her masking her emotions was quite impressive. Could she do that before?”
Galahad shook his head but shrugged after a moment longer, “I don’t know. I hope she didn’t try to pick that up from me. If she's going to hide her emotions like I hide my face then she must be serious.”
	“Do you think she might start hiding her face, too?”
	“She was intent on fighting me before I made the club. I have to wonder if she looks up to me in a way,” Galahad visibly cringed, “That’s the last thing I want.”
Harold shook his head, “You are an admirable mage. You will have students who want to be like you if you continue to learn here, and especially if you continue teaching people how to duel,” He explained, “Nevertheless, you have a duty to set an example as Sean, Manus, and I do. It is half the reason I came here to make good with you in the first place. It may not seem like it, given our… rough beginnings, but I really do care a great deal about Fairgarland. I hope you would keep the academy's spirit in mind as you continue your education here, especially for those two. They need good examples and we both know I have not exactly been one as of late,” The prince chuckled, his self-deprecation taking the duelist by surprise.
	Now Galahad’s shoulders slumped, “Right. In that case, just keep in mind what we discussed. I think it would better serve as a great example to the others to see you humble yourself for the sake of Fairgarland's underclassmen,” Before Harold could reply, Galahad quickly glanced at his watch, “Ah! I’m going to be late. See you later, Harold.”
	“I– Of course,” The prince wasn’t used to having people run out on him. Usually it was he that had an important meeting to get to. But he let Galahad go as he hurried out of the arena and towards the library. He shrugged and laughed at the new predicament, “Ah, I had the chance to apologize to his friend, didn’t I?” He rubbed his face, “I am losing my touch.”

. . . . .

	“Using my Hyper Mega Cannon, I’ll make an attack on the enemy!” Declared one player as they rolled a few dice, “I’m four up, right?”
	“I’m outside of your range,” Shanessa explained apologetically, “So only a one up.”
	“Doesn’t Galahad’s Unit Four increase tech range?” The game runner inquired, “So you should be.”
	“Ah! I forgot he was here!” Another laughed.
	The duelist’s face was turned down. The others waved it off as him being tired, but Galahad didn’t usually bite his nails, Shanessa noted. She looked at her game group as they celebrated a successful encounter, “Can we take five?” She asked, “The pizza is getting cold.”
	“Is there any left?” Someone chuckled as they munched on chips.
	“Well, let’s go find out, Galahad,” She took him by the arm, making him get up from his chair with surprising strength. The demi-human then dragged him over to one of the further away tables of the library where the remnants of their late night pizza sat. The man looked at her wide-eyed, a bit startled by her sudden grabbing and pulling. The snake woman put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in, “Is something the matter? You can always talk to me, dear.”
	The man sighed and most of his body slouched, “A lot of stress recently.”
	“With finals?”
	“Well, yes,” He admitted, “But more with my friends. Blud and Reccoa nearly killed one another tonight,” He said through clenched teeth. 
	Shanessa gasped, “Those two did? Blud had been feeling bad about that duel they had, that sectare girl had been staying away from him for some time after that. Whatever happened this time?”
	“I thought they were finally making up. They seemed in good spirits, when Harold and I had to stop them in the middle of a duel they had. They were going completely overboard and she nearly killed him! And Blud was just going to stand there and take it, like he has a deathwish or something! The worst part is neither of them even realize what was wrong!” Galahad grumbled.
	“Thank goodness you were both there to stop them…” Said Shanessa, calming the duelist down. 
	Galahad sighed and nodded. “I’ll have to keep a close eye on them now. This is on top of everything else. Manus is coming with us off campus after finals and she is trying not to show how nervous and worried she is. It’s beginning to rub off on me. Harold is trying to make amends, but I can’t help but feel like he’s trying to entrap me. I’m being stretched thin, but I can’t give up on anything I’m doing,” He rapidly prattled off all of his worries as the woman’s snake tail gently thumped the floor, “I’m sorry, you don’t need to hear me whine.”
“Hush, you,” She giggled, putting her other hand firmly on his shoulder, “Look,” While his head was pointing towards the floor, Galahad still looked up with his eyes, meeting the slightly shorter woman’s gaze, “I know you got off to a rocky start with Harold, but he used to be a very kind boy. He definitely has something to prove, but I believe he can change. I’ve known him for a very long time, and heard he has calmed down in many aspects. There is also his noble goal of expanding the labs in every house with extra-dimensional space. It is quite the undertaking, and only time will tell if he will stick to it, but I beg you to give him a chance.”
With a nod, Galahad exhaled deeply through his nose, “I’ll try to.”
	“Maybe you should invite him to your club? That might help him reach out to you and some others?” She suggested, gently rubbing his shoulder, “It might even cool some of the flames between your houses.”
Galahad considered this for a moment, “Perhaps.”
Shanessa nodded. That was good enough for her. 
	“I have to know, though, what is his issue with demi-humans?” Galahad asked, “There are so many here and even in Fritz’Eleo.”
	The snake woman smiled, “Believe it or not, he and I were nearly a thing years ago.”
	“Truly?” The duelist perked up.
	“Oh yes, I believe he sent a picture of us home and spoke of making friends. His family is very old school. I’m sure you know of the anti demi-human sentiment the old world had and that most families kept,” The snake-woman explained. She sighed and turned to be shoulder-to-shoulder with the duelist, crossing her arms as she leaned against the table, “It was worse for him, being a son of one of the most prestigious old world royal families still around today, every little thing he did was always scrutinized by his family and their friends. I’m sure it’s still that way even after all these years. They forbade us from even being acquaintances. Of course it hurt at the time, I could tell he wasn’t happy with it either and yet he did as he was told. I took no offense to it, but that boy lives to please his family.”
	“I see…” The duelist replied. He had not expected that, but as he thought more on it, it came as no real surprise.
	“He would be much happier and better off if he just shrugged them off and became his own man, let me tell you,” Shanessa wagged her finger in the underclassman’s face, “Anywho, don’t let Harold get to you. As for Manus, I don’t think you will get her to stop worrying, but don’t let that affect you either. Once you get off campus together she’ll get used to it. You two will have a great time after finals.”
	“I pray so,” He sighed.
	“And if you coming here to play a silly game with us is too taxing, then you can quietly slip away,” she reminded him, “This is a place to have fun and relax. If you’re not having either, you should stop. Do you still want to play?” Shanessa asked.
	“I do, I do! You need my Mark Four and if my character leaves, no one is going to be able to pilot the starship,” He jested. 
The snake woman let him go with a nod, “Excellent. Come, they’re starting to gawk at us. My ploy is obvious now,” She chuckled. 

. . . . .

	Miss Manus stared at Randy rat as he scurried around the carpeted floor. He would pick up a toy and hop over to the witch. With the wave of her hand, she would toss the toy for him to chase and then return with. It put a little smile on her face, seeing the rat hop, scurry, and wiggle its tail and body at her, it was almost dog-like in its playfulness, “Are we ready?” Galahad asked as he placed a box at the edge of his table and presented his staff to the witch.
“As ready as I can be,” She replied.
	The two were in Galahad’s room. Not the best location for magic practice, but it was a calm and quiet room to work in. The TV had been put on a channel that displayed a pretty and colorful fish tank, bottles of water were at the ready, and Galahad had a few empty cans near him. Randy moved aside as Galahad silently commanded him, “You’ve been able to block basic mana bolts and a couple stronger spells,” The man explained as he picked up a can, “Next we move on to physical objects.”
	Miss Manus gripped the staff with four hands, and stood as if trying to hide behind it, “Y-you’re going to throw cans at me?”
	“They’re empty.”
“I see…”
	“Oh come on, I’ll heal any bruises you get. They won’t hurt.”
	Miss Manus relented with an apprehensive grimace and a sigh, “Alright.”
	“This will be just like your other training, but the magic you use will need to be tweaked. It's almost the same spell, just increase the thickness and decrease the power. Can you do that?”
	“Of course.”
	Galahad turned the can in his hands, “You don’t look very sure.”
	“I have a lot on my mind, Galahad.”
	He nodded slowly, “I understand that. But you know you need to focus on this kind of magic. You can’t just idly apply magical formulae like with transmutation. If you start using the shield too early, it will begin to dissipate and lose its effectiveness. Understand?”
	Miss Manus had her turn nodding now, “I understand. I am ready.”
	Galahad hesitated. Miss Manus still looked distracted. He knew why, but did a light underhand with the can. 
	WHUMP!
	With a noise, the can phased through the portal and harmlessly bounced off of Miss Manus’s chest. The two looked down at the can then back at one another before chuckling about it, “Sorry, sorry,” The fey-woman played with her hair idly.
	“You’re distracted,” The man reiterated.
	“Am not,” She stubbornly replied before taking up her casting pose. Legs wide, staff at the ready, one hand next to the shaft of it. He tossed another one. This time, with focus, Miss Manus created a crackling and thick shield. The can was zapped and was sent right back at Galahad who easily caught it, “How was that?” Miss Manus panted.
	He nodded, “That was a little too much power. Reflective shields are beyond you at the moment, but I appreciate you trying. You’ve been reading, huh?”
	“Yes.”
	Galahad couldn’t help but smile, “I’ve never taught anyone like this, but I appreciate you taking this seriously. Thank you.”
	“You have been a–” Manus coughed and caught her breath. She had exerted herself a little too much, “--wonderful teacher.”
	“Let’s take a–” Galahad paused as his phone buzzed, “I gotta take this,” He smiled sheepishly and stepped into the bathroom for a bit of privacy.
	Miss Manus put his staff down by leaning it against his table. She sighed and took a step backwards to lean against the table herself. Her ears twitched as she heard a noise behind her. The staff had rolled and knocked over the small box, sending folded papers to the floor, “Oh dear,” She mumbled to herself. First she uprighted the box and began to put them back in, “I pray he does not need these organized,” Her thumb flipped one open by accident. Her curious fey eyes couldn’t tear away from the words within. It was Galahad’s handwriting, that much was obvious. Strangely, the paper was dated for a date rather early in the year. Mother and Father, it began. Glancing over it, she quickly determined it was a letter related to schooling. It mentioned his classes, teachers– herself included, and a few other students he had met and how excited he was. She ran her finger over the paper, feeling the ink and pen pressure on the page. It wasn’t a copy, that much was obvious? Why was it never shipped? She folded it back up and began to put them back. 
As she finished, Galahad returned, “Did something spill?” He asked.
Miss Manus nervously nodded, “Y-yes. I knocked your box over. Did you need them organized?”
	“Nah, I just need to put it away,” He quickly took the box and slid it under his bed, “Do you want to be done? You’re probably worked up over finals.”
	The fey-witch took her hat off, “I am unsure what is eating at me, Galahad.”
	“Then take a seat and relax. There is no worrying nor stress allowed here,” He put on a smile and began preparing a kettle of water, “I don’t have many tea flavors, but I picked up some of that brand you seem to like. They’re in that cabinet, take your pick.”
	“Just for me?” The fey woman was a little more at ease now as she gladly found a few bags of tea for herself. 
	Galahad nodded and scrounged around his little room for more, “Here, I’ve got some cookies too. Since you’ve been working hard, I thought I might get some stuff to help you relax.”
	“Wonderful, thank you,” Manus smirked at the peanut butter cookies. Not the best to have with a cup of tea, but she would not complain about free cookies. The letter was still at the back of her mind, but she was quick to hand wave it away as some kind of eccentricity, like all wizards seemed to have. She watched her underclassman hum to himself as he clumsily prepared a few cups of hot water from his kettle. He was an odd one, afterall. There was nothing to worry about, she decided, “Can I try again?”
	“One more time?”
	“While the tea is diffused, yes,” Miss Manus took up the staff and stood at the ready, “How is your family?”
	Galahad stood up straight suddenly and looked at her over his shoulder. He slowly slipped his cloak off and turned back to the water he was preparing, “Good, I think. They don’t tell me the goings on at home without being prodded,” He shrugged and threw his cloak aside, “It’s not like we have any problems, they’re just busy with my sisters, with work, with their hobbies and research. That kind of thing.”
	“What do they do for work?”
	There was a short pause, “Dad’s a sanctioned wizard. Mom does odds and ends as a contractor. Very similar work, but she insists it's different, less professional, and all. She’s a ‘free spirit.’ My sisters are going to do just about the same, I think.”
	“But what about you? What do you want to do?” 
	Galahad shrugged, “I don’t know. What do masters usually do?”
	Miss Manus found herself balking at him, “You really do not know? Some teach, some get into researching in an official capacity, military calls for some, but there are infinite things you could do to sell your knowledge and services. Do none of those call to you? You are doing an excellent job teaching dueling, perhaps you will stay here?” She was quick to blurt that out, despite it just being wishful thinking on her part.
	Galahad brought the tea kettle over and poured two cups of steaming hot water. His face was difficult to read as he thought about it, “I don’t know if I’m cut out for that. Maybe as a private tutor, but a class? Like a formal one with grades? That just sounds like a lot…”
	“Well,” Miss Manus dunked a bag of tea into her cup, “Perhaps you need to find a subject that you are passionate about? Dueling, combat magicks, what if you were Fairgarland’s first dark magic instructor since the old world?”
	“Dark magic? Like, black magic?”
	“A little. Demonology, protection against extra-realm beings, astral-projecting. A bit of dream magic, mayhaps,” She excitedly explained, “There are many more. It's magic that is considered dangerous, but worthwhile to know how to deal with it or protect yourself.”
	Galahad looked a little pale, “You really think I should be trusted with things like that?” His voice was weak as he stared at the floor.
	“I do, Galahad. I have no reason not to trust you.”
	The man put on a small smile as he picked out some tea for himself. He opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. Moments passed before he nodded, “Thank you.”

. . . . .

	Galahad stared at his work. The written portion of the transmutation final was easy enough, it was a simple memorization and inference portion with a short essay. He wrote out mana usage details, difficult materials to turn liquid into, and how going from honey to syrup then to another sticky liquid was surprisingly difficult. He was now onto the example portion of the test to show his abilities. He watched a group of students do their spell casting portion of the final first. It was primarily focused transmutation. Change the water to oil, then turn a portion of the oil into water again, then form a solid sphere out of the mixed substance. This would demonstrate the level of control one would have within this school of magic. When it was his turn, Galahad was slow, but very thorough and careful. Still, Manus was happy with his work and gave him a B. He sighed, but was happy to pass, although he was a little sad he would not be getting that kiss, even if it had been just a joke. 

	Blud was eager to lead the alchemy final. The two shared a written exam that went by quickly before moving on to making a specific potion. They were given two cards at random and had to make a concoction that used both. Blud grinned when he saw it, he had just been given express permission to create an explosive. Onyx Sand from the realm of the same name and the sap of a magic tree. Mixed with some flamewart and mana salt, it easily made a dangerous, sticky fire bomb. Unfortunately for him, he was not able to show off his design to the professor who simply tasted it and nodded, passing the both of them. She then confiscated it and scolded the two of them for making something so dangerous in her class, but there was a hint of pride in her eyes.

	Galahad’s abjuration final was easy enough. While he was familiar with shields, the realm related magicks were not something he had been taught in private. But like the rest of the abjuration experts, he took to it very easily. The pocket realm the class was to create was generally small. One overachiever did create one you could enter and lounge in, but Galahad had created a pocket realm attached to himself. To show his work to Kal Spellbreaker, Galahad reached to his side, his left hand to his lower right, and began to pull out various items. Potions and salves from his previous final, books, a wand, and yesterday's sandwich that he quickly scarfed down. A few others were impressed that a first year could do such work, as many of them made bottomless bags with their magicks. Still, Galahad only got an eighty-nine on his project. Few students got A’s in Professor Spellbreaker’s class and the young man was glad to just pass. Next term would be what he was really after, magic to transport between the realms. After the Butcher encounter, he was eager to learn this magic. He was quick to push the thoughts of schooling from his mind and to focus on his trip in just a few short days. He needed to pack and help Miss Manus do the same. He had already let his club know they would miss the next two meetings and to relax for Spring Break.