I took advantage of the brief silence to give the profs' table a once-over, figuring I ought to start memorizing the mugs I'd be seeing on the regular. When my eyes hit the last guy at the table, though, I felt like I'd been sucker-punched. That dude was a dead ringer for—hang on. My heart skidded to a halt and a cold sweat started breaking out on my forehead.

"Brandna! Daphne!" I shouted.

"Cool, he said our combined name." Bran chuckled, but when he stared at me, his smile disappeared.

Edna and Daphne observed me with deep concern in their eyes as if they were doctors trying to hear symptoms from a patient.

"Rollie, did you see a walking armored knight or something? Your face is all pale. Just so you know, knights aren't anything to be afraid of in Loxton. They're all friendly, and they appear sometimes. We use them as spirit mascots. Not sure if you have them at—"

"N-N-No. No kn-knight." I whipped my head from side to side. "That professor, at the end of the table," I pointed. "Who is he? What's his name? Where's he from?"

"Relax, Rollie, no need to have a panic attack. Those are all well-revered professors. What's the matter?" Bran asked.

"Just tell me his name!"

"Keep your voice down," Daphne said, "all the students are looking at you."

"Please," I lowered my voice, I don't think Daphne cared that people stared at us, but I think she was just looking out for me. "I'll feel better when I know who that is. I'm sorry for yelling, but I need to know." I buried my head in my arms and flattened my mohawk down with both hands.

"That's the new professor. His name is Remington Hawthorne. In fact, I heard he was from Amerzia, actually. A former professor at Attleton. You know him?" Daphne asked.

I started trembling as I lifted my head up. "Will one of you take me to the dorm we stay in or take me someplace else entirely? Please? I don't feel very comfortable right now." I tried to focus on the exercises I learned in therapy then but couldn't meditate. Seeing Professor Hawthorne again was something I was not prepared for in the slightest.

"Yeah, I can take you," Daphne said.

"Let us come with you," Bran said.

"No, I'd feel bad depriving you of dessert," I said.

"Nonsense, we're coming with you. That's what friends are for," Edna said as the three of them stood up with me, and I covered my head with my cloak as naturally as I could, but I just looked like a vampire trying to conceal their face in the daylight.

Daphne led the way through beautiful vast corridors of black and white marble. We went up a few sets of wide stairs until we reached a lobby with a front desk and, next to it, a wall of orange metallic mailboxes. To the left and right side, a staircase wrapped around to the upper level. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling glowing with orange, light blue, and yellow light, relaxing the space. It reminded me of the lobby back in Attleton, but this one was narrower and had a higher ceiling. There were also couches and lounging chairs off to the side with a few tables.

"This is the main entrance area for the Fyron dormitory, we just walk up the steps. We could take the other staircase since they lead to the same place, but we go left, and if you're leaving, you typically go right." Daphne went to the left of the front desk, and we went up the steps and headed towards a large arched door, cream-colored wood with a bright orange trim around it. A fire insignia of an orange flame was at the center of the door.

"The entry's a breeze," Daphne said, sending a few fire sparks from her hand to the flame-marked door. With a smooth parting down the center, it opened up to an even larger room. Furniture like couches, chairs, tables, even dividers filled the space. The room was circular, staircases sprouting off into different halls like tree branches. High arched windows gave the moonlight a direct invite, spilling its glow onto the scene below. The chandeliers mirrored those in the lobby, casting their warm light.

It was ghost town, but Daphne guided us to a tucked-away corner with a comfy couch that could double as a bed for a pair of tall folk. Nestled beside a cozy fireplace, it was the perfect hideaway. Everywhere you looked, tables, desks, and shelves hosted an array of fascinating orange plants and succulents. Underfoot, the steady thump of aged oak followed us as we made our way to the fireplace.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Ah, it's so wonderful to be back," Daphne whispered. Daphne pointed next to the fireplace to a knight in a full plate of armor with orange paint and flame designs from head to toe, sitting on an oversized wooden chair. "I forgot to introduce you to Phoenix! This is our mascot knight that I mentioned earlier."

"Ah, how neat. What's his whole story?"

"We don't really know the full story," Edna said. "Just always been part of the tradition here. Every mage dormitory has its own knight-designed mascot. The graduating students get to paint Phoenix if they want every year, but they've been touching it up if needed for the past few years. But they're welcome to overhaul the whole design if they really want. It's fun! On game days before Dragonstryke, our knight boxes the other team's knight on a stage in front of the stadium. It's always a hoot!"

Having something to take my mind off for a moment was nice. I observed the orange-painted knight. "Sounds like a good time."

Edna and Bran sat beside me on the couch, and Daphne slid a chair close to us.

"Well, you look much better. Your face doesn't look so pale anymore," Daphne said.

"Yeah, what happened back there?" Bran asked, pressing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Bran! Give him a moment to breathe and think for a second!" Edna lightly slapped her brother's knee.

"It's okay, it's okay. I just needed to be away from the dining room. I wouldn't feel comfortable explaining this at the table, and seeing Professor Hawthorne's face again made me lose my appetite."

"So you know him?" Edna asked.

My head nodded so slightly that it was a nonverbal form of a whisper. "I do. I wish I didn't. He used to teach at Attleton but was forced to resign. So allow me to tell you my experience with him and what happened…

"Me and Hawthorne? Not exactly best buds," I began. "We clashed like hell back at Attleton. He taught History. Hardest thing you could sign up for, and you had no choice in it either. Hawthorne played the strict card. I can't tell if he's chilled out now, but he was all military school a year ago. His lectures? Like trying to follow a Dragonstryke playbook written in Latin. Always tossing out words that needed a dictionary handy. And let's not forget the wild tangents he'd drift off on, yet he'd holler at us to keep jotting notes. His exams too were like a drill out of the textbook, but part of it had to do with his class blabber. Not gonna lie, the man had brains, knew his stuff. But when it came to handling us students, let's say he could do with a crash course.

"But our feud started 'cause of this bully named Houston. Guy and I were oil and water. Houston got his kicks tormenting kids half his size, and I wasn't about to stand around and watch. So what if you were a puny mage? No one should have to take that crap. And since no one else was gonna shut Houston up, I took him on. Now, every time Houston and I would go at it, Hawthorne'd be screaming at me, like I was the one who started the brawl.

"I don't think Hawthorne liked Houston, but Hawthorne definitely didn't like me. He basically told me so himself. I was lucky to have teachers and the head counselor who knew me better and defended me from him if I ever got stopped in the hallway by him, but I see that he's here now, and I'm a little freaked out.

"You see, I didn't want to get into all of this, but the three of you have been so kind and welcoming. I feel like I can share this secret with you if you don't know it already. I'm not sure if news ever traveled about this. I don't think it did.

"It was a dumb situation. I forgot to wear my cloak to class, but it had been a long weekend, and on weekends, we were allowed to wear whatever we wanted, so I didn't have my cloak ready to go Monday morning like I usually did. So I'm walking to class, and no one really notices until Professor Hawthorne spots me in the hallway. Then suddenly, I owe him a detention. I didn't even have him for class. He was just a glorified hall monitor, and rather than telling me to go to my room and put on my cloak, he made me serve detention."

I took a deep breath. Reliving the moment Once again made my knees bounce up and down, and my whole body felt shaky. My voice grew weak, and I sniffled. "So there I was, in his classroom serving a detention after school one day."

"Rollie, you really don't have to tell us if you don't want to. We all appreciate you being as open as you have been, but we don't want to upset you too much on your first night here," Daphne said.

"No, it's okay. I want to let you know what happened. People should be aware of what happened, at least you three. But I don't want any of this to spread. This has to be kept between all of us."

"Let's promise on it," Edna said. Edna put her hand forward, so did Bran and Daphne. Their hands hovered together in a circle, and tiny flames emitted from their fingertips. It created a slightly larger flame, but no heat or anything came from it.

"Go on, Rollie put your hand in. It's a mage's promise," Bran said.

I joined them and added a few tiny flames to the circle. But my flame was red while theirs was orange. It created a nice darker shade of orange.

"Haven't you done one of these before, Rollie?" Daphne asked.

"No, I haven't."

"We all pull back our hands at the same time. Three... Two... One..."

As we did, the flame floating in the circle's center hovered there momentarily. It was beautiful to look at, but it seemed like they had done it so many times that they weren't greatly impressed by it. The flame divided into four parts and floated towards each of us until it connected to my heart. I didn't feel anything different, but it was a neat looking visual.

"If anyone breaks this promise, the flame will be released from your heart and either shrink or disappear. You have our word, Rollie. We won't tell anyone what you're about to tell us," Edna explained.

"Oh, cool. Well... Here goes," I uttered. Nervous to relive the painful memory again.