Jenna’s head thumped forward onto her textbook with a quiet thud. She twisted her face to the side and blew a frustrated breath through her lips. “I hate studying.” Her feet kicked under the table, knocking Cliff’s ankles with her toes.

He propped his elbow beside his own textbook, tucking his chin in his palm. “Then don’t study.” He’d been idly going over some of the reading material for Professor Jericho’s class, but he’d already prepared much more for this set of exams than the first round, because of his isolation in his room. The study date had been her idea, a crude replacement for a dinner date in Westholden proper because of team B’s probation.

With a little moan and a shake in her chair, she pulled herself upright, shooting him a glare. “You know I can’t do that. Unlike some people, I didn’t get a convenient isolation to brush up on all the exam materials. If I don’t want to fail, I have to study.”

Cliff smirked. “Convenient, is it? Would you like to switch places then?” He hummed as if considering. “You know, Roose did say it was only a small chance we’d get the boot. Not so bad at all, when you think about it.”

She winced. “Okay, maybe convenient isn’t the right word – sorry about that.”

Waving a hand in front of him, Cliff shook his head. “Don’t you worry, pretty thing – I was just teasing you a bit.”

“Pretty, is it?” she said with a small smile. He winked, and she let out a little peal of laughter. “But, really, you can’t seem to catch a break – though this time, at least, we can actually talk about it.” Her tone had sharpened at the end, and Cliff shrugged apologetically. He hadn’t told her about his offer to transfer until the problem had been solved, and when he finally did talk to her about it, she’d nearly slapped him across the face – if only because she felt bad that she couldn’t be there for him.

“That was different – the threat of transferring, it was because I was proper awful at using my PMT. It wasn’t exactly something I wanted to talk about.” She’d have offered him sympathy, he knew, but that kind of support would have only served to frustrate him. “Here, though-” He made a vague noise. “Honestly, even if I got kicked out, I wouldn’t regret what we did.” He thought Loria and Nym probably had the same opinion as him. In fact, if the three of them did get expelled, Thalos might be the worst off – they would probably slap him into one of the other teams, but Cliff imagined he’d feel damned guilty about the whole affair.

“What would you do?” she asked.

“If I got kicked out?” He hummed for a moment as he thought. “Well – I’d probably go home for a stretch before I found an engineering job in one of the cities – Crestfall or Minton, probably.” Before coming to the academy, he’d been offered an engineering position in Minton’s government – he wondered if it would still be open.

Jenna’s eyebrows went up slightly. “Oh? Not satisfied with being a farmer anymore?”

“My poppa told me when I left that you can take the boy from the farm, but you can’t take the farm from the boy,” Cliff said with a wistful smile, “Trying to separate Cliff Everheart from the farm is like-” His eyes flicked down to his textbooks, and he smirked. “Well, it’s like trying to explain the rise of the Courier Alliance without taking into account the tyranny and excesses of the Church of Gaeon.” Jenna made a noise of protest at his ham-fisted attempt at dragging in a bit of studying to their conversation, but Cliff continued. “I’ll always be a farmer, but after my time here, I think I’ve decided it’s time for me to leave the farm and take on something more suited to my skills.” Engineering, no doubt, though what kind, he couldn’t say.

“I’m getting lonely just thinking about it,” Jenna muttered with a frown. She shook her head. “There’s no point talking like this, though – I mean – you said you don’t think you’ll be expelled, right?”

“Right,” Cliff said, smiling. Ever the pessimist, Loria was insistent on reminding them that the possibility remained whenever they spoke as a team. He and Nym were a bit more optimistic, and Thalos, as ever, kept his cards close to his chest. A couple of times, Cliff had tried to probe Roose for information, but the Templar was remaining admirably, frustratingly silent.

Jenna stretched in a way that showed off her slim frame, and Cliff admired her from across the table. She caught him looking and smirked, eyes widening as she remembered something. “Oh! You know how my parents are visiting for the harvest festival?” Cliff nodded, a suspicion of where this was going snaking into his head. “Well, ah-” she continued, suddenly flustered, “my dad, he’s – well, I mentioned you in a letter or two back home, and they want to meet you.”

“Naturally,” Cliff said, smiling – honestly, he’d assumed he’d meet just about everyone’s parents who would be coming to visit. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but you could learn a lot about someone by getting to know where they came from – or who, in this case.

She forced an awkward cough. “Yes, well – he’s a little bit old fashioned, you understand? In his eyes, the only reason to entertain a romantic relationship is to eventually get married.” Her eyes scanned the outline of his face, but she was studiously avoiding eye contact.

Cliff clicked his tongue. “If you’re asking me to marry you, Jenna, I’d reckon it’s a little early for that. I mean, what would my momma think about such a whirlwind romance?” Honestly, she’d probably be thankful that someone was willing to put of with Cliff – but he wasn’t about to say that.

She let out a little shocked squeak, but noticed his smirk quick enough and made another, affronted noise. “I was going to ask you to entertain the idea of a more serious relationship, at least in front of them – I don’t think a casual relationship would even register with my dad.” She paused to frown. “If you’re so keen to joke, though, maybe I’d be better off ending things here.”

He knew she wasn’t serious, but nevertheless he reached out across the table, clasping one of her hands in both of his and putting on his best puppy-dog eyes. “Begging your pardon, my dear – if you want me to play the old-fashioned boyfriend, well, I’ll do it – but only because I like you so much.”

Jenna tugged her hand free from his. “Okay, you don’t have to ham it up that much – you can be normal, okay? I just wanted to warn you in case my dad starts asking you questions about your intentions and other things I know neither of us have taken the time to think about.” There was the barest hint of a blush on her cheeks, though, and Cliff basked in it. “Now that that’s out of the way, we can get back to studying.” She ran a hand through her hair, eyebrows coming down as she dragged a finger along the textbook page, finding her spot again. He watched her for a moment before looking down at his own book. He was pretty sure he would be fine for the exams, but there were worse ways to spend his time than sitting across the table from her.

***

The ratchet slid in a practiced, quick arc, tightening the bolt connecting the two metal bars of the frame. Cliff jerked the tool back and forth until it was secure then let out a contented sigh, rolling out from under the big, skeletal frame and sitting up, working some blood-flow back into his exhausted hands. “I’m done over here, Brother Paolo,” he called across the room.

The cassock-clad magepriest was in front of an engineering station, assembling one of the magetool portions of the machine, half a dozen partially-assembled components around him. He’d made some progress on the prototype while Cliff was gone with the Hands-on and his house arrest, but it had all been sporadic and disorganized. This wasn’t quite how Cliff liked to do things – despite the intuitive nature of his gift, he was actually pretty meticulous in how he organized his work. In simple terms, if the project was a jigsaw puzzle, Paolo was the type to scramble for a single connection and then build out from there, whereas Cliff liked to find the entire border before filling in the inside. Watching him work for a moment, Cliff waited for a response, but when none came, he grabbed a sturdy part of the giant magetool’s frame, tugging himself to his feet and walking towards his advisor. “Brother Paolo?”

The magepriest twitched, looking over his shoulder towards Cliff, a frown on his face. “What? Oh, you finished? Good – help me with this.” There were heavy bags under his eyes, and his hair was all kinds of messy – from the look of him, Cliff thought it had probably been a few days since he;d last showered. “That’s the last of the frame, right?”

“Yes, sir.” Cliff came up beside him, looking over what he was working on – it was part of the magic pulse emitter, the key to the big innovation in their research. Basically, the magetool they were working on had the goal of isolating an area and reducing the magic pressure inside. The reducing part was very basic – essentially you absorb all the magic in the area. It was so simple, they’d already made small absorbers in his Intro to Magetool Engineering class. The isolation part, though – that was highly theoretical and the meat and bones of what they were doing. In rough terms, they were rigging a magetool to emit rapid pulses of magic to a specified radius, somehow blocking the ambient magic from piercing the ‘wall’ they were building with these pulses. He wasn’t rock solid on all the theory behind it, but he had enough of a grasph to understand the design, and that was good enough for him – especially when he had exams coming up.

Paolo stepped back from the desk, gesturing in front of him. “Can you take over for me? Some of this stuff is pretty finicky, and – ah, my hands have started to shake.”

Cliff nodded, glancing at his advisor with a concerned expression as he picked up the partially-built component, rotating it in his hands to get a feel for its geometry. “When was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?” Setting it down, Cliff plucked a screwdriver in one hand and got to work fastening the neatly stacked pieces together.

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After watching him work for a moment, Paolo shrugged. “A full night’s sleep? Let’s see – I got the – that is, maybe two days after you left for your Courier college practical training?”

Cliff’s hand stopped moving as he did the mental math – that meant it had been about a week, far too long to be productive without any rest. He paid the magepriest a pitying look. “I’ll handle this – take a break, if only for a few a minutes.”

Paolo’s eyes seemed to glaze for a second, then suddenly his hands came up and he scraped his palms downward across his face. “A break? I can’t – no, I don’t have time for a break.” He pressed his hands into his eyes for a moment before they pulled away. “I’ll start wiring the first parts of the absorber onto the frame.

“I really think you should rest,” Cliff protested, “I mean – you haven’t even told me why, suddenly, we’re in such a rush.” All he knew was that when he showed up to the workshop after his house arrest ended, Paolo had been in a state of near panic, wanting to compress months of building time into a few days.

His advisor frowned at him as he moved across the room, checking the magetool’s blueprint and grabbing a few things off of one of the workshop’s desks, arranging them on the floor around the frame. “I’m sorry, Cliff, but I can’t tell you – just know it’s important, all right?”

Sighing in resignation, Cliff turned back to his own work. “All right, but when you inevitably collapse and end up bedridden, I’m going to need you to explain to Iona that I tried to get you to take it easy.” His engineering club senior was worried about Paolo – he hadn’t shown up to the club in more than a week, and they still had the harvest festival coming up, so he was sorely missed.

Paolo started to say something, but before he got a word out, there was the sharp sound of knuckles on wood, and both Cliff and his advisor turned to see a man watching them from the door of the workshop. He was tall, almost as tall as Cliff, with glasses on his round face, thin brown hair cut neatly short, and a small smile that crinkled his eyes. He was dressed in a magepriest’s vestments, but his cassock was, interestingly, trimmed in baby blue. That wasn’t a color Cliff was familiar with. He wanted to immediately press the man or Paolo for its meaning, but something about the unfamiliar magepriest’s presence seemed to stifle his urge to speak.

His eyes scanned across the room, settling on Cliff’s advisor. “Brother Paolo?”

Paolo just about yelped, jumping to his feet and brushing dust off the hem of his cassock. “Yes, that’s me.” He still sounded tired, but there was a new emotion there – a frantic nervousness.

“Wonderful,” the strange magepriest continued, “that means I’m in the right place.” His head spun across the room, and Cliff felt suddenly nailed in place, his spine going stiff as the bespectacled man studied him. “Who might this be? An apprentice Courier, if my guess isn’t wrong.”

Cliff was about to introduce himself when Paolo cut in. “He’s – my research assistant.” He turned towards Cliff, and the two shared a short, severe look that Cliff read to mean ‘no funny business around the unsettling guy’. “You’re done for the day, Cliff – you can head back.” Immediately, Cliff wanted to protest – he had no idea who this guy was but it was pretty clear that he would have some interesting things to say, but then, Paolo was still giving him that no-nonsense look, so he just nodded, wishing the pair a good evening, setting down his interrupted work and hustling out of the workshop. For a moment he considered hanging around and trying to eavesdrop, but then the glasses man’s smile popped into his brain, and he thought better of it. He didn’t need his Gift to tell him that getting on that man’s bad side was not a good idea

***

“Cheers!” Eight cups came together, clacking together over the table as all the members of teams A and B leaned in. Cliff took a hearty swig of his beer – normally, the dorm didn’t serve any, but Percy had brought a keg of the stuff from Westholden proper. They’d all chipped in, and even then, it still hurt Cliff’s wallet – the scholarship only provided so much spending money, after all – but it was well worth it, considering the celebration.

He stuck out an arm, wrapping it around Thalos’s shoulder, and brought his cup into his roommate’s for their own private toast. “How’s it feel to be out of the infirmary?”

“Home sweet home,” Thalos said dryly, taking a little sip from his beer. They’d gotten permission from Dr. Harkin for him to have a few drinks, though, much to Cliff’s disappointment, the good doctor had warned Thalos strictly from drinking to excess.

“I’m so glad to see you’re okay,” Penny said from across the table, “When I got hurt, I only had to spend one night in there, and even that was miserable – I can’t imagine how bored I would have gotten with an extended stay.”

“It was a complete joy,” Thalos said, and Penny’s eyes widened.

Cliff shook his head. “He’s being sarcastic, Penny – I can tell.” He released Thalos, leaning forward to explain. “It takes a keen ear but – when he’s being serious his tone is accidentally neutral – that’s just how it is, you know?” He glanced at Thalos. “When he’s being sarcastic, it’s intentionally neutral, you understand? A little flatter, a little colder.”

Deb made an exasperated noise. “Cliff, that makes no sense – how do you expect us to tell the difference between accidentally and intentionally neutral – that’s like asking us to tell when you’re being smug on purpose, or just when it’s just your nature coming through.” Penny giggled, and Loria put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Cliff opened his mouth to protest, but shut it after a moment. It was almost exactly the same thing, when he thought about it. Still, he couldn’t let her jab go unpunished.

“What did you do to kill the time?” Percy asked, stopping the argument before it started. He was being a little more ambitious with his beer consumption – he’d already gone back for a refill, and Cliff was thinking about joining him shortly.

Thalos shrugged. “Honestly, not much – you guys visited pretty often, which I’m grateful for, and when you weren’t there-” He paused with a frown. “Well, I studied a little, and started out the window, but I was pretty tired.”

“Almost dying will do that to you, I figure,” Jenna said, swirling her mug in front of her.

Thalos nodded. He frowned, looking over his shoulder. “Any clue when dinner will be done? Ralph’s cooking was something I really missed.” Cliff pressed a breath through his teeth, holding back a giggle, and looked across the table at Nym, sharing a mischievous glance. The prank had been her idea, and Cliff was jealous he hadn’t thought of it first.

As if beckoned by Thalos’s question, a moment later Ralph burst out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of food in front of him. “Welcome back, Thalos – we missed you!” the rotund man called, walking over and setting the tray in front of Thalos, “Cliff told me it was your favorite, so I had to cook it up for you, but I have to say, I’m surprised. Not many people love chicken livers and spinach.”

Thalos stared down at the plates in front of him, the same dinner he’d been forced to eat in the infirmary – to Ralph’s credit, he’d done his best to make it look appetizing, and he had mostly succeeded. After a moment, he turned towards Cliff, expression deadly serious. “Cliff, I’m going to kill you.”

From across the table, Deb gasped. “You know what Cliff, maybe I can tell the difference. This time, he’s dead serious!”

***

Cliff washed the gritty taste of chicken livers from his mouth, polishing off another mug of beer. Of course, he wasn’t actually going to make Thalos eat the food he loathed so deeply, but it was there, so someone had to. The table had collectively decided that it was Cliff’s burden to bear, a punishment for the prank – he was about to point out that it was Nym’s idea, but she had given him such a pleading look that he’d decided to take one for the team. Besides, it really wasn’t that bad – he didn’t particularly like the texture of liver, but Ralph was an ace in the kitchen, so it was good enough for him.

At some point, the chairs had shifted around – he found himself between Jenna and Loria, and now Thalos was flanked by Percy and Deb, both of whom had drunk so much that they were starting to forget that Thalos wasn’t supposed to overindulge. Thankfully, Cliff’s roommate had a good poker face and enough of a backbone to shoot them down each time they offered to refill his cup. They didn’t seem to take it too personally, though, leaning in front of him to continue some argument from the Hands-on.

“Thalos!” Penny cried suddenly, standing up from her seat, leaning over the table towards him and puffing out her cheeks. She’d been mostly quiet for the dinner, sipping contentedly at the beer, but now that she’d had a few, she’d started to occasionally have these loud outbursts. “Are you going to be okay for exams? There’s only two days until they start, and – I know you you said you were studying, but – do you need our help to prepare?”

Nym stood up, dragging her roommate back to her seat with an amused expression. “We helped him study, Penny – he should be fine.” She looked over at Thalos. “You’ll be fine, right?”

“Should be,” Thalos said with a level expression, “failing half the exams is fine, right?”

Penny tried to jerk up from her seat again, but Nym held her in place firmly. “Sarcasm, Penny, sarcasm.”

Cliff chuckled, and a finger poked itself into his cheek. He turned to see Loria, staring at him with narrow eyes. There was a light flush to her face, and he glanced at her cup – it was empty. Again. She’d been unexpectantly insistent in her beer consumption, and when he’d made a comment about his surprise, she’d seemed to take it as a challenge. Now, she’d probably had nearly as many beers as him and Percy, and both of them were a good bit bigger than her. “Cliff,” she said, “you’re not going to fail any exams this time, are you? I don’t want you to.” Her words had the slightest slur to them, and there was a little pout to her tone.

Jenna leaned towards him. “This is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” she whispered.

He shushed her with a swat to the thigh and smiled at Loria. “I’ll be fine. I only failed my PMT class because of my Gift, right? This time, though, I don’t have to worry about that – honestly, I’m probably going to do pretty well, if I do say so myself.”

“Good,” she said, slapping her fingers on the table with a loud smack. She stared at him for a moment, frowning slightly before speaking again. “I’m scared of you meeting my father.”

Cliff blinked, wondering if that was an insult or not. “I’ll – uh – try not to embarrass you?” he offered

Her head seemed to wobble on her neck as she shook it. “It’s not that,” she said, “I just – I think you’ll hate him.” Cliff blinked. “Just like you hated me, right? He’s – he’s a good man, but…” She trailed off, turning to look around the table. “You guys are my team, right? And I don’t want – I don’t know-” She cut off with a hiccup, and she leaned forward. “I’m dizzy.” She muttered into the table.

“Okay,” Jenna said, standing up and squeezing Cliff’s shoulder. She walked around him, leaning down to whisper something in Loria’s ear. The other girl moaned a quiet protest, and Jenna turned to Cliff. “I think it’s time for bed.” Her glare sharpened towards him. “Do not tease her about this in the morning – she’ll probably be feeling bad enough as it is.”

Cliff laughed, shaking his head. “Honestly? I’m not even sure what I would tease her for. This is the most earnest I’ve ever seen her.” That last drunken ramble had been the closest thing to a sign of affection he’d ever gotten from Loria, and he wasn’t about to mock her back into her shell. He was a little worried about that comment that she’d made about her father, though. Jenna grabbed Loria under the arm, and she shakily stood up. “Oh, Loria,” Cliff called after his team’s commander. She turned back to him, concerned expression on his face. “I never hated you,” he said with a smile. He waved a hand. “Good night.”