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Don yawned in response. He stepped through the table – shimmering as he quite literally walked straight through it, ignoring the marble as it cut through his torso – and appeared on the other side, sitting down next to Sean.

He was easily three heads taller than Sean. Don gave Damien and Sylph a lazy grin, then stuck a finger into his nose to dig for something.

“This is Don,” Sean said, unperturbed by the other boy’s behavior. “He’s crass, but he’s a damn good fighter. He also happens to be one of my teammates.”

“Is fighting important at Blackmist?” Sylph asked.

“Incredibly so,” Sean said. “Blackmist has produced some of the best combat mages in history. I’d say over half of our curriculum is field training. I love it.”

Damien pursed his lips. Rune drawing was about the farthest you could get from combat, and Sean didn’t make it sound like the college cared much for the former.

“The training is a lot of fun,” Don rumbled, wiping his hand off on his sleeve. Damien suppressed a gag.

“In fact,” Sean said, “you’ll likely be taking part in some placement matches very soon. The school needs to figure out where everyone stands so that students can pick teams properly.”

“Teams?” Damien said. “For what? The quests that Dean Whisp mentioned?”

“Correct. Teams are made up of two to three people. You want to work with someone that has talents that complement yours for the best results,” Sean said. The rune beside him lit up with a dull green glow. He grinned and tapped it. A white dish with a large piece of lasagna on it hummed into existance directly in front of him. The food looked good, but it wasn’t particularly impressive either.

A second later, the runes beside Damien and Sylph lit up as well. They both imitated Sean. A plate of pasta in red sauce shimmered into being before Damien. It had been sprinkled with a fine white cheese.

“Thanks for the meal!” Damien told Sean, picking up a fork.

“No problem,” the blonde boy replied, grinning. “Once you start going on quests, you’ll find that getting money is no trouble at all. We’re not allowed to leave the college, and most of the stores here don’t even accept coin. They all want credits, which you get from school assignments.”

Sylph’s brows furrowed for a sliver of a second before her normal, uninterested expression returned.

Damien stuck his fork into the pasta and took a bite. It was surprisingly good, with small chunks of salty meat and a rich tomato sauce. The cheese provided a nice kick that rounded the whole dish out. It couldn’t compete with his mother’s cooking, but Damien decided he could certainly get used to this.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Sean said, noticing Damien’s pleased expression. “You’re going to want to be cooking yourself more than eating out. They only use normal ingredients in the mess hall, and their free food is so incredibly bad that I wouldn’t even feed it to Don.”

Don grunted. His rune turned green and he tapped it, summoning a plate piled high with fried eggs. The large student grabbed a fistful and shoved them into his mouth, chewing twice before swallowing.

“It’s not my favorite,” Don said with a nod. “Lacks nutrition.”

The table grew quiet as they all dug into their food. Damien found himself sneaking glances at everyone as they ate.

“It seems strange that this boy is so kind,” Henry mentally said. “He carries himself like that noble boy in the room next to you.”

Damien blinked. He didn’t stop eating, but he snuck an extra glance at Sean between bites. He hadn’t exactly seen Nolan eat before, but each of Sean’s movements was precise and practiced. If Nolan had been the one in front of him, Damien wouldn’t have blinked.

It just means he’s probably wealthy. Even if he’s a noble, it doesn’t mean he’s also a dick.

“Bah. You need to start practicing your magic. If you knew some, we could rip open that boy’s mind and take a little peek. I can practically feel you bubbling with excitement like a full caldron of disgusting human emotions. Why haven’t you started yet?”

I’m not learning anything that evil. And I haven’t started because I don’t know how to.

“Then ask me, you idiot. I’ve forgotten more about magic than your entire little school has ever known,” Henry said. Damien could imagine the creature stalking circles around his mind with his arms crossed.

Then you should have said something. Unlike you, I can’t read minds.

The spark of longing within Damien flared up. A small grin would have crept across Henry’s face had he been present in the physical world. He’d been getting worried for a moment, but there was nothing to fear. The boy’s desire to learn magic hadn’t weakened in the slightest. Henry grew silent, allowing Damien and the others to finish their meal in peace.

“Well, I’ve got a theory class I need to get to,” Sean said, setting his fork down gently beside his plate. “It’s been a pleasure making your acquaintance. I don’t know if we’ll meet again soon, as your first year is… a bit of a whirlwind, let’s say. However, make sure to try your best! If you do well, we might run into eachother at the end of the year tournament.”

Sean rose from the table and bid them farewell before striding away and heading out of the mess hall.

“We should probably get going as well,” Damien said, licking a bit of pasta sauce off his lips and rising to his feet.

“You’re telling me like I care,” Don said, but he gave Damien a small wink.

Sylph stood as well. She inclined her head slightly to Don. Then the two of them headed out the doors, avoiding the small crowds of students, and set off towards the base of the mountain.

Comments

Bunny Waffles

Henry really needs to scale back a bit. He JUST got into magic school. Can't exactly be expecting his "Best Friend" to be chill trying to mind break people for knowledge, let alone anywhere close to being able to pull that off. You gotta work your way up to getting your companion to do horrible, nasty things to people. Corruption is an art, not a brute force solution!

Actus

Cut him some slack. He’s lived through millennia, but he’s never tried to corrupt the mind of a 17 year old before. They’re surprisingly opinionated. - the Narrator.