Cliff’s brows furrowed as he made his way towards Paolo’s workshop, counting all the people he had to apologize to. There was Jenna, of course, and her parents, for brushing them off to work. He owed a good one to Loria for how he’d acted at her poppa’s dinner – sure, the guy seemed like an ass, but that didn’t mean Cliff had to act like one too. Nym, definitely, for missing her presentation about the Nightwyrm – it felt especially bad considering he was pretty sure she’d drop by to see his demonstration. It’d probably also be proper to apologize to Iona, for saddling her with the preparation for the engineering club’s presentation.

He breathed a sigh, dragging a thumb along his freshly-shaven chin. Truth be told, it might just be easier to count up his friends who he didn’t owe an apology.

Still it would all be worth it when the demonstration went off with out a hitch. If it went off without a hitch. He shook his head, banishing the thought – negativity wouldn’t help, even if all their work so far had only led to results that were inconclusive. There was a little bubble of nerves in his chest, and every stray thought seemed to only make it bigger. For the most part, everything seemed to be functioning well enough. But the clock circuit – crank it that fast and everything just turns inconsistent. Still, their most recent tests suggested success, even if they were too afraid of blowing out the filament to run the machine for more than a minute or two at a time.

It was an oddly liberating experience, not knowing the outcome of their tests in advance. He’d realized it in the middle of one of his arguments with Paolo – a big reason he’d become so invested in the depressurizer’s success is that it seemed out of his Gift’s depth. This wasn’t like his issues with his PMT, where he understood the problem, just not how to fix it. This was a blind spot for his Gift. It almost frightened him, the thought of his limitations, but at the same time, it was exciting.

When he stepped into the workshop, Brother Paolo didn’t even look up from his work. “How was class?” he called from where he was hunched over the depressurizer, tweaking one of the big magetool’s countless settings.

“On my momma’s life, I couldn’t tell you two words the professors said,” Cliff replied, taking a seat at one of the workbenches, “got a few grades back, though – I got a perfect score on the engineering exam, of course. Nearly did the same on my PMT basics exam.” Lieutenant Ulster had docked a few points from his written portion, but Roose had given him full marks. His custom inferno node worked, and apparently the templar didn’t know enough about engineering to take away any points. “What are you up to?”

“Lowering the pulse radius to try and coax out some more stability from the clock circuit,” Paolo said over the crank of a ratchet.

Cliff frowned. “Still trying to hit the sweet spot, huh?” They’d spent most of the last two days fiddling with numbers to maximize efficiency and stability – it was a whole lot of guesswork and trial and error, because all their calculations only resulted in some suggestions and nudges in the right direction.

Paolo turned to face him, dropping the ratchet into a nearby toolbox. “It was either that or sit around and twiddle my thumbs until it’s time for the demonstration.” Aside from the difficult they were having at honing in on the perfect numbers, Cliff and Paolo had managed to earn themselves a little bit of wiggle room before the actual presentation, and there really wasn’t much for them to do until the event itself. Paolo plopped down on a stool, brushing dust off his pant legs. “And if I did that, I might just die of anticipation. So it’s tweaking and tweaking until people start showing up.” The magepriest was looking quite a bit better to Cliff’s eye, though it could just be because he’d combed his hair and shaved on account of the presentation. He was still a little frantic, but now that Dr. Harkin had given him something to knock himself out every night, he didn’t look quite as desperately exhausted.

Cliff nodded. “I take it you already figured out what you’re going to say, then? Drafted up a script?”

Paolo gave him a blank look. “A script?”

Blinking, Cliff frowned. “You’re going to have to say something, right? Or will we just flip the thing on and hope they understand?”

The magepriest’s mouth opened for a moment before closing with a click. “A script,” he said again, “you think I should just give a rundown of the theory before introducing the depressurizer?”

Shrugging a shoulder, Cliff glanced over at the big machine – it was intimidating, sure, and impressive at a look, but the actual function wasn’t quite obvious. In fact, it wouldn’t seem like it was doing anything at all, if not for the display Cliff had jerry-rigged. “I’m think I’m probably the wrong person to ask,” he said, looking back at Paolo, “you’ve been a part of research presentations before, right?”

His research advisor nodded slowly. “I have, yeah – but never as the person in charge.” His lips pulled to the side. “This research was commissioned with my ordination – before that, I was always at the beck and call of one of the senior magepriests.”

“Like I am to you,” Cliff said.

Paolo snorted. “Except without the benefit of a Gift to lend me unearned expertise, it was a lot less arguing and a lot more shutting up and doing as I was told.”

Cliff clicked his tongue. “You didn’t pick me for my shyness or tact.”

“Right,” Paolo replied, “certainly not your tact.”

Raising an eyebrow, Cliff smirked. “That said, you best start drafting up a script. If you don’t, I’ll take over, and knowing my lack of tact and who’s attending…” He trailed off with an insinuating smile.

The magepriest’s eyes widened. “I’d be defrocked after about ten seconds.” He shook his head, moving towards a work bench and fishing a pen out of his pocket.

Cliff watched him with an amused expression. After a moment he stood up. “You get to work on the script, I’ll make sure the display is working.” Paolo grunted in reply, and Cliff moved to spot-check whatever he could before the presentation. He wasn’t the type to get overly anxious before things like the this, but that bubble of nerves in his chest wasn’t going anywhere, so he might as well double check everything he could.

***

An irritating bit of sweat beaded itself between Cliff’s eyebrows, but, with his arms full of folding chairs, there wasn’t much he could do. It was his third trip from the storage shed, and after this one they’d have enough chairs for their best guess at the number of attendees. He wasn’t sure if their estimated twenty was optimistic or pessimistic, but if more people came, they’d have to deal with standing – Cliff’s arms were tired, and they were running out of time before it actually started.

They’d realized it after Cliff got the magical pressure display up and running, that there were exactly three stools scattered throughout the workshop – not nearly enough for an audience. Unfortunately, Paolo had been halfway through writing his script, so that left the manual labor to Cliff.

He dropped the chairs in a heap by the entrance of the workshop, thumbing away that bead of sweat that had dribbled down to his nose. “What’s the time like?” Cliff called as he started to arrange the chairs. He wasn’t being exactly organized about it, rather laying them in a chaotic semi-circle generally pointed towards the depressurizer and the display beside it.

“Schedule says for attendees to show up fifteen minutes before the presentations, so ten minutes from now,” Paolo replied, looking up from his notes to frown at the haphazard arrangement of chairs. Theirs wasn’t the only research being presented that day. The academy wasn’t exactly a research institution, but a good number of the professors had some project they were working towards, whether it be commissioned by the church like Paolo’s, or something else. Dr. Harkin had his own presentation to give, Cliff knew, though by Percy’s account it was going to be a pretty dull affair, more of a progress report to his sponsors, the military, than anything else. The magepriest turned to Cliff with a thoughtful frown. “Do you want to greet the attendees as they come in? There won’t be much for you to do during the demonstration, so you might as well say something to them.”

Cliff clicked his tongue. “Reduced to an usher, is it?”

Paolo chuckled. “Don’t think of it like that – the first face they see will be yours. It’s your chance to make an impression. Everything goes well, you’re far more likely to be remembered if you say something to them than if you just stand off to the side.”

“Fair point,” Cliff said. It wasn’t exactly that he expected much credit for the research, but he’d worked his butt off, so if Paolo was offering him a chance to put himself out there, he wasn’t going to turn it down. “Don’t worry, I’ll grease them up for you – I’ll be sure to lay on the charm real thick so they’re primed and ready for your speech.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Not too thick,” Paolo replied with a frown, “we’re showcasing research, remember, not trying to sell them something.”

***

Iona was the first to arrive, a few minutes before guests were technically allowed inside. She crossed her arms, looking Cliff up and down. “Well,” she said, “at the very least, you look like you’re doing better. How’s Paolo?”

“That’s Brother Paolo,” Cliff corrected with a grin. Her eyes narrowed, and his grin widened. “He’s doing better too,” Cliff finally said, deliberately avoiding mentioning his little visit to the infirmary a few days before, “I figure he’ll probably drop like a rock as soon as this is all over and sleep for the next three days.”

“I’ll give him a day and a half,” Iona said, “I want him to come to the engineering club’s showcase. Or had you forgotten that it’s in two days?” She crossed her arms.

“’Course not,” Cliff said. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was safe to say that the engineering club was tucked somewhere off in his peripherals. For the moment, the depressurizer was occupying most of his attention. “You can go ahead inside and grab a seat – no one else is here yet, so you’ve got your pick of the litter.” She nodded and stepped into the workshop. Before she was even a few steps inside, Cliff heard her start yelling at Paolo.

The next to arrive were a handful of magepriests – a few he recognized from around campus, but just as many he suspected to be visitors for the festival. He scanned the group, wondering if the Hierophant was among them, but no one particularly stood out to him – if the Hierophant was there, she was doing a good job of blending in.

“They’ve got you on door duty, huh?” Thalos said as he walked up with Nym and Loria.

Cliff smirked. “A job so big they can only trust me with it.” He glanced behind them, but it seemed like they were alone. “Neither of your parents decided to come by, huh?” he said, looking between Loria and Nym.

Nym shook her head. “Not sure about Loria’s dad, but mine wanted to drop by a different research presentation – one of his old coworkers, I think.” She scrunched up her nose. “Between you and me, I think he might be taking a bit of petty revenge because you didn’t show up to my Nightwyrm thing.” She shrugged.

With a wince, Cliff let out a little half-hearted chuckle. “I was going to wait till things were done here, but I suppose I ought to apologize for that.” He scratched at his head. “I really should have made the time to drop by – especially because you’re so kindly coming through here.”

Nym snorted, waving a hand in front of her. “Don’t even worry about it – enough people showed up to satisfy my ego, and if you had come, I’m half afraid you would have thought up some esoteric question about Nightwyrm biology or behavior to stump me.” She smiled. “If you’re really torn about about missing it, I have the whole thing memorized – I could give you the rundown easily enough.”

“I might just take you up on that,” Cliff said with a nod. He looked over to Loria, frowning. She’d been glaring daggers at him since their arrival, and he wasn’t sure why. It might have felt a little nostalgic for an earlier part of the semester if it wasn’t so concerning. He leaned towards Thalos. “Any idea why our commander is giving me the death glare?” he whispered, loud enough that she’d be able to hear, “think she’s still mad about the dinner with her poppa?”

Thalos raised an eyebrow, glancing at Loria. “I don’t know,” he said, “ask her.”

“It’s not that,” Loria said before he could point the question her way, “Or, well – that’s part of it, but I assumed we’d talk about that later. It’s just-” She clamped her jaw shut, and beside her, Nym grinned.

“After you stormed out of the classroom to rush here, Roose posted the rest of our grades,” Nym said, “you barely beat her out for the highest average among the first year apprentice Couriers.”

Cliff sucked a breath through his teeth. Half a dozen quips flooded his brain, but he stopped himself before saying any of them. He’d already been a bit of an ass so far this week, but Loria had still come out to his demonstration. It would be pretty rude for him to rub it in her face after that. “Well, I suppose I didn’t fail my PMT course this time, so it’s expected I’d do a bit better. Glad to see Team B is holding ourselves well, though – top two spots, and everything.” No, he’d save his gloating for after he apologized.

“That’s it?” Thalos said dryly, “I was expecting a round of victorious laughter, at the very least.”

Cliff clicked his tongue. “Yeah, yeah – I’m a comical villain, I get it.” He pointed over his shoulder. “Get inside and grab a seat before I start cackling.”

The next several attendees passed through without anything more than a nod of greeting when he welcomed them, but when a trio of magepriests approached the workshop, Cliff made a noise of understanding. “So the rumors are true,” he said, “you really are Vince’s aunt.” All three paused to look at him. He glanced around, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “You must be the Hierophant, then.”

One of the trio, a woman with sky-blue hair and a neutral, probing expression, stepped towards him. “How did you know? Did Brother Paolo inform you of her holiness’s looks?” There was a harsh undertone to the question, Like Paolo really shouldn’t have done that. A security issue, Cliff figured.

He shook his head. “Nothing of the sort – you must be a Sentinel, then?” All three of the priests were wearing green-trimmed robes like normal clergy, but it was easy enough to guess by their demeanor who was who. “I managed to guess, by Brother Paolo’s nervousness over the last week or so, that some big shot would be coming to our presentation. Add that with rumors of, ah, her holiness’s attendance, and I was primed to spot you out. So when three magepriests step up, one looking serene, flanked by two stern-faced protectors – well, it doesn’t take a genius to make the guess.” He paused, raising a finger to tap at his cheek. “Honestly, though – it’s the cheeks. Vince has the same baby-fat clinging to his face.” He paused, eyes widening. “Ah, please pardon the rudeness, if you don’t mind.” His momma would just about have a heart attack if she learned that he might have offended the Hierophant.

The blue-haired woman glared at him for a moment before the Hierophant reached out a hand, grabbing her by the shoulder. “It’s alright, Lyn – he’s just being curious.” She stepped forward, smiling. Honestly, when Cliff had heard the Hierophant was attending, he’d expected some old lady, Vince’s aunt or no. Instead, the woman before him was probably no older than forty, with piercing green eyes and scarlet hair – a few shades darker than Vince’s – done up in a simple bun. As Cliff had said, her cheeks held a bit more fat than you’d expect from her thin frame. Where the feature made Vince’s face look pudgy, though, it added a friendly fullness to hers that matched her kind expression. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she reminded him more of one of the parish priests outside Minton than the woman who stood atop the Marifond clerical hierarchy. “Would you mind telling me your name, or else I’ll just have to remember you as an observant doorman.”

“Cliff, ma’am,” he said, nodding his head, “Cliff Everhart. First year apprentice Courier at the Academy.”

“Well, Cliff, I take it you’re a friend of my nephew’s?” the Hierophant asked.

Shrugging a shoulder, Cliff slowly nodded. “I’d like to think we are. Truth be told, I haven’t spoken to him as much as I’d like, but every time I have, he’s been nothing but kind.”

Her smile widened slightly. “That does sound like Vincent, yes.” She paused. “And would you mind telling me why you’re serving as a doorman for Brother Paolo’s research demonstration?”

“I’m his assistant,” Cliff said simply, scratching his head, “He’s getting everything squared away inside, so he assigned me with welcoming the guests.”

“I wasn’t aware Brother Paolo had taken on an apprentice Courier as a research assistant,” she said softly, “and a first year, no less.” She shook her head before continuing. “Well, Cliff, it’s a pleasure to meet you, but I have to ask that you keep this meeting between us. My presence here is something of a secret, you see, and my company, here, would be remiss if word were to spread.”

Cliff nodded. “Of course, ma’am,” he said, glancing at the two Sentinels at her shoulders, both of whom were glaring at him, “and apologies for letting my curiosity get the better of me.” He turned to gesture into the workshop. “Go right inside and grab any seat you want.”

The Hierophant gave him a final smile as she stepped inside with her two guardians. When she was gone, Cliff breathed a heavy sigh. He’d started talking without really thinking about it. Maybe because of her friendly face, or because she was wearing normal robes, or maybe even because he was sleep-deprived, but he hadn’t really realized he was being extremely casual with the Hierophant until the end there. Either way, he’d have a story to tell his momma the next time he visited home.

The demonstration was just about to start when Jenna rushed over to the workshop, her parents following closely behind her. Cliff breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted them. As the minutes went on, he’d started to worry that she wouldn’t come by. “You made it,” he said, taking her in a quick, casual hug that he broke off when he noticed her father’s glare.

“Yeah, sorry we’re almost late,” Jenna said breathlessly, “I’ve never been out to this part of campus, and I got turned around a couple of times on the way.” Her head tilted to the side. “Before I forget – Penny and Deb told me to wish you good luck. They’re going to Percy’s presentation with Dr. Harkin.” Cliff nodded – he’d have felt bad if everyone came to his. Jenna smiled awkwardly, glancing between Cliff and the man and woman next to her. “Ah, Cliff – this is my mom and dad.”

Cliff put on his most winning smile, turning towards the pair. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Cliff, but you’ve probably already guessed that. I’m sorry we haven’t gotten a chance to talk so far.”

“Yes, I was starting to think you didn’t exist,” Jenna’s father said, peering at Cliff over his glasses.

Beside him, Jenna’s mother reached out, swatting his shoulder. “Oh, stop it, Brent,” she said before extending a hand towards Cliff, “It’s wonderful to meet you, Cliff – Jenna’s told us so much about you. I’m Pearl.” He took her hand to shake and was impressed by the strength of her grip – it wasn’t really surprising, though, considering what Jenna had to say about her mother’s dueling career. Pearl’s eyes flicked to the side, and the corner of her mouth went up as she leaned in for a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t mind my husband. I think he just wants to intimidate Jenna’s boyfriend, especially because he heard you’re some kind of genius engineer. I think he’s as excited as me that our brute of a daughter managed to find someone willing to date her.” Cliff looked over at Brent, and the way the man was avoiding eye contact, he figured Pearl was right.

Cliff laughed, scratching at his head. “I’m not sure about Genius, ma’am – your husband probably has a million things he could teach me about engineering.”

“No need to be humble,” Pearl said, “we saw your grade – a perfect score is impressive, even if it’s only the introductory course.” She glanced towards Jenna. “Much better than my daughter.”

“Mom, please,” Jenna said tiredly, “you know you don’t have to insult me to my boyfriend’s face.”

“Just being honest, dear,” Pearl said.

There was a noise from behind him, And Cliff turned to see Iona sticking her head out of the workshop. “Paolo says it’s time to start, Cliff.”

“Right,” Cliff said, turning back to Jenna and her parents, “Well, much as I’d like to chat, we better head inside. Thalos and the rest of my team are in there, if you’d like to join them.” Jenna nodded, leading her parents inside, and Cliff was close behind them. He took a deep breath as he shut the workshop’s doors. It was finally time.