“It's been too long! Too long! Come in, my door is always open to you. Come in!” the lizardfolk wizard cried. “You look rather bony, have you been eating properly, Alex?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re just imagining that, professor,” Alex said.

“You think so?” Val’Rok turned away from the young wizard, who quickly checked his frame.

‘You haven’t lost any muscle mass have you?’ Alex wondered, checking his frame. He flexed. ‘Have you?’

Alex stopped flexing as soon as Val’Rok turned to face him.

The lizardfolk hadn’t sat down at his desk, and seemed to be looking at Alex…expectantly?

What was he—

—oh!

“Well, I don’t think I’ve lost any weight, but you certainly have!” Alex said, noting the mana manipulation professor’s sleeker form. “I take it your diet’s going well?”

“Oh, yes!” the lizard wizard flexed, showing off his lean body. “I started an exercise program as well! I dare say that I'll add at least another fifteen years to my lifespan! Even though everyone expects that I'm going to die in some mana manipulation accident!”

He gave an unnerving, high-pitched laugh. “Anyway, I'm enjoying my new look! What about you? What about you? Sit down! Sit down! I want to hear how your experiment went!” The lizardman bared his spiky teeth. “Vernia refused to tell me if you managed to build your artificial mana pool or not! But you're not dead, and her look of disgust gave me hope, it made me think you were probably successfuuuuuul?” He hissed, questioningly, then grinned excitedly.

Alex touched his abdomen. “I’m happy to tell you that the operation went perfectly, doc!”

“Yes!” the lizardfolk pumped his fists. “That's wonderful to hear! Oh, joy of joy, I knew that putting my effort into you was the best thing I could've done! You are a natural at mana manipulation, oh ho ho!”

The archwizard blushed. “Thanks…honestly, I'm so good at it because that was really the only subject I could put all my focus into when it came to wizardry. In some ways…I'm almost glad I was branded with the Mark of the Fool. If I hadn't been, I don't know if I would've focused anywhere near as much on mana manipulation which means, I wouldn't have gotten anywhere near as much knowledge from you, and that would've been a shame.”

“It would have been, wouldn’t it?” Val’Rok said. “I think your name is going to go down as one of the great historical figures when it comes to the wonderful discipline of mana manipulation. I myself am quite good, but you!” He shook a clawed finger at Alex. “You're something else! The most terrifying force in all of academia, is a prodigy who knows how to work hard! And that’s what you are, my young friend! Oho ho ho! I am so proud of you! Here! Here! I’ve been saving this as a treat—a cheat on my diet—but I’m willing to share!”

The lizardman rushed to a cabinet, took out a metal bowl and slammed it on his desk hard enough to shake it. “Candied insects! Crickets, beetles, scorpions! A feast! Come on, don't be shy! Dig in!”

Alex froze, trying to fight down horror. He was uncomfortably reminded of the beetle-like monsters he'd seen in the vision of Thameland being culled. He fought down a wave of nausea.

“I think…I think I’m alright, professor,” Alex said.

Val’Rok rolled his eyes. “So many people get so self-conscious about eating insects when they're the most valuable, easily obtained, and healthy source of protein in the world! You're all so silly!”

“Well, just the idea of eating cockroaches—”

“Cockroaches?” Val’Rok’s jaw dropped. “What do you think I am, some kind of barbarian? I don't go around saying that you eat vultures, now do I?”

“Well, no but—”

“And you eat crabs don't you? Lobsters too? Maybe the occasional shrimp and crawfish, catfish? A clam here and there? Oysters for energy? Mussels for muscles? How are they so different?” Val’Rok frowned.

“Well, uh, I’m not actually sure,” Alex paused. “I don't know if they are that different.”

“Suddenly, Val’Rok grinned. “I don't tell you often enough that you're much too serious.”

The lizard wizard opened one of his desk drawers, taking out a bowl of hard candy. “You think you're the first student I've pulled this little prank on?”

He laughed seemingly endlessly as Alex glared at him before taking a piece of candy. “Thanks, professor, thanks a lot,” he said with heavy sarcasm.

“You need to take a joke better!” the professor gave another high-pitched laugh. “Forgive this old man for having his fun. I likely won't be seeing you too many more times, you know?”

“Hm?” Alex looked up at him sharply. “What do you mean?”

Professor Val’Rok’s reptilian eyes fixed on Alex for a moment, then looked out of the window. “Can I admit something to you? This might not be fully appropriate between professor and student, but…it’s something that can be shared between wizardly peers.”

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“Yeah,” Alex said. “After all you've done for me, professor, you can tell me anything. Seriously, you're one of my favourite teachers here. I wouldn't have gotten anywhere near as far in life without you: your different mana manipulation techniques armed me with what I needed to advance in alchemy, in spellcraft now, and for the fight against the Ravener. I’m serious, you can tell me anything.”

Val’Rok’s shoulders sagged. “I dearly wish you hadn't said that, Alex. You're making this harder.”

“What do you mean?” the young archwizard asked, becoming nervous.

“I want to admit to you that I hate this time of year. I hate the spring, I hate the end of semester. I despise it.” Val’Rok said, looking more serious than Alex had ever known him to. “With every fibre of my being.”

“Why?” Alex asked.

“Because it's the time when students graduate,” Val’Rok said. “I love working with young people, Alex, especially young people who take a true interest in mana manipulation. There aren’t really a lot of young folk who decide to specialise in it. Not at all. It means that I tend to get very close to the few students that excel and show a focused interest, like you have. And then…every year, I have to say goodbye. Every year I see people that I’ve taught for four years leave forever.”

The lizardfolk bared his teeth in a scowl, watching students walking along campus…many were going through the gates. “The world is a very large place. Very, very large. There are many paths to travel in life, and they can go in any direction. Never touching each other, and if they do, it's often only temporary. Then they drift apart again.”

“They really do, don’t they?” Alex thought about some of the people he’d met in the past. Teachers in Alric. Some of his peers at the church school. Classmates at the University he’d exchanged pleasantries with and never became close to. He’d likely never see most of them again. “And when they drift apart, most of the time, they never come back together again.”

“And that's exactly why I hate this time of year,” Val’Rok said. “It's a reminder that most of our connections are formed, only to be broken: as temporary as a magic circuit. That is life.” He smiled at Alex. “I look at you, and I realise that this will probably be one of the last times we’ll ever meet like this.”

Alex baulked. “Oh, come on, Professor. I'm going to be working with Professor Mangal after graduation, and I’ll still live in the city. We'll see each other again.”

“We will,” the professor said. “But like most of my students, it won't be the same. We might meet occasionally in the street, or have the odd reunion on campus…but you're not the type to coop yourself up in a university forever.”

Alex froze. He gave thought to his future again. “You don't think so, eh?”

“Of course not!” Val’Rok laughed. “If you were, there wouldn't be any adventures across the planes, or quests to destroy great evils, or journeys through foreign Empires. You'd be right here, in the library, in the laboratory. That's where you’d spend most of your time.”

“I had a lot of my adventures because I had to have them,” Alex pointed out.

“Did you?” Val’Rok turned to him. “You didn't, you know. You could have led a quiet life right here, crafting golems or other alchemical devices. You could have ignored what was going on in your homeland, and focused on academia. Folk who don’t want to leave the laboratory, don't leave the laboratory. Often students who become professors are ones who can't stop themselves from experimenting on their own time. Their work is everything to them. You're not like that, though. You enjoy your adventures, don't you?”

Alex thought about that. “I’ve got to admit that I have enjoyed some of the risks involved in adventuring. The thrill of discovery, of destroying tyrants and monsters. I don't know if I love it enough to make it my whole life, but I do like it a lot.”

“And that's why our paths will part,” Val’Rok said. “I enjoy my time in the lab, playing with mana manipulation techniques. I don't think you're going to become a professor here, which means that the time of our paths running side-by-side is coming—if not to an end—then, at least to a very late middle. I'm proud of you, as I am of all my students, but I still can't help but feel a little sad every time I wave them off to walk their own paths.”

He gave Alex a wry smile. “That's why I had to pull that little prank on you for old times sake. Just a little something to spice up one of our last conversations…maybe our last one with me as your teacher and you as my student.”

Alex had never really given any thought to how his professors might feel at the end of each school year. Every year taking in new students, watching them grow and then—at the end of it all—seeing them graduate to make their own way in this big world. Hundreds of students enter, and a great number never make it to graduation. The few who did, would likely form personal relationships with their professors. They'd be colleagues, mentees, and friends.

And every year, those professors would watch most of the fourth years walk through the gates of the university, likely to never see them again. It struck him as a bit sad, like most of the melancholies in life.

Things change.

Bonds formed.

Bonds were severed.

And if that didn’t happen, life wouldn’t be…life. Uldar couldn’t let go of wanting his kingdom to be bound to him—and wouldn’t allow that bond to change when he got sick—which led him down a path of murder that was impossible to grasp.

Then he thought of something else.

When he needed to concentrate, he had to acknowledge his thoughts, then let them go. He wondered if it was the same for many events and relationships in life: one needed to acknowledge them and let them go.

He couldn’t be a student at Generasi forever, he had to move on and forge his own path in life, whatever that might be. Selina wouldn’t be his dependent little sister forever, at some point in the future, she’d step out on her own…and he’d have to make sure he didn’t interfere with her life and let her have the same freedom to do what was best for her as he’d had to.

Everything eventually came to an end, just as the Ravener’s cycles must. Even Uldar’s reasons for them had ended. His Ravener had to be brought to an end as well.

It must have been emotional for some of his professors, though.

Alex felt a lot of empathy as he talked with Professor Val’Rok. “All I can say is that I'm going to take a big part of you with me wherever I go, professor. Even if I live to be ten thousand, your teachings are going to always be with me. And I'll always appreciate them, and you.”

The lizardfolk smiled. “I’ll treasure that, Alex. It warms this old man's heart. And understand, I love watching my students graduate. I just hate seeing them leave! What a contradiction that is, isn't it?”

“I get it,” Alex said. “Sometimes we want to see something finished…but don’t want it to end at the same time.”

“So true,” Val’Rok nodded. “But still, end it must. You can’t be a student here forever, and I've taught you most of what I know that could help you. And so, you have to move on.”

“Well, Professor…” Alex said. “Let's hold that thought for a moment. I have a problem, and I was wondering if you might be able to help me with it. I think it's something mana manipulation could help with.”

Professor Val’Rok beamed. “Well, then—for maybe the very last time in your undergraduate years—tell me what your problem is. Let's see if we can figure it out.”