My first match was officially over and done. But I was still in a miserable mood moping back to the station.

"Rollie! Rollie!" I heard a familiar voice yell at me as I got on one of the crowded train carts.

I really didn't want to respond. It sounded like Tim, and even though he'd probably compliment me, I had no interest in talking to him.

Turning around, I was completely wrong. It was Farrah, beaming.

I stopped, and my heart fluttered as my frown was replaced with a bright smile. "You saw the game?" I asked stupidly. Of course, she did.

"Did I see the game?" she mocked. Her smile grew wider. "I was as close to the field as you could get! I had to show up early, but I had to see it for myself, one of the youngest players to ever take the field. Bravo, my friend, bravo."

"Thanks. It could have gone better, but what can you do."

Farrah's jaw dropped. "You're too humble. You were amazing for someone who played for the first time ever. I mean, you successfully stole a trophy. That's one of the hardest and most stressful things you can do in the game, from what I understand."

"Yeah, you're right. I felt like I got out too early, but I don't mean to keep on dwelling about it. Sorry."

"No need to apologize. I get the same way sometimes. If I don't get the perfect grade and only get a point off, I complain, but many other people would love to get the same type of grade that I get."

"I appreciate your understanding. So tell me all about your weekend so far."

Farrah discussed what she did last night and this morning. It wasn't like she did anything too crazy. She went to the rec hall on Friday night and spent all morning getting ready for the game and getting the best seat possible.

"Perhaps we can hang out tomorrow if you're not busy?" I asked her.

"Sure, If I'm free. I have tentative plans, but I'll let you know if anything changes."

I was in good spirits all the way to the dorm. Everyone, there was already celebrating in the lounge. Confetti magically circled around the room without the help of anything. I assumed it was an arcane magic trick. People were drinking out of champagne flutes. I wondered for a moment if it was alcohol, but when I went to the main desk to see all the glasses, I realized they were serving sparkling spiced plum juice. I had never heard of it, but I grabbed a beverage, took a drink, and chugged the rest. It was delightful. It reminded me of apple juice, except carbonated, sweeter, and cinnamony.

The guy working at the front desk had his face light up as I stood there drinking the sparkling spiced plum liquid. "Dude, you played an amazing game today! What did you say your name was? Rollie? Man, I was really impressed. In fact, we all were. You were nothing short of sensational."

For a moment, I thought about focusing on the negative and explaining to him I could have played even better, but I paused and thought it over. "Thank you for the kind words. It means a lot." I smiled, and it was genuine.

On Sunday afternoon, I went to the library to see Patrick. All the other mentors met with their mentees in the same spot as last time. I went to the same table and saw Richmond talking with Patrick.

"That's right, I forget that Patrick is your mentor! That's so wild," Richmond said to me.

"Yeah, I was talking with Richmond last time before you approached the table," Patrick said.

"Hey man, what happened on the bench on Saturday? I looked over and saw that you were in a struggle of some sort, but I was in the middle of the game, so I wasn't able to pay too close of attention to what was going on," Richmond said.

"Oh, uh, I don't know. It's a long story." I waved dismissively. "I'm with my mentor now, so I don't want to think about it too much."

"I understand. We'll talk about it later. You let me know if you need anything, especially if this guy gives you any trouble." Richmond smirked as he patted Patrick's shoulder. He left our table.

"So, how's your week going?" Patrick asked me as we sat down at our table. He was genuinely curious and had a totally different demeanor from the last time I spoke to him. He was pleasant, which was foreign to me.

"My week is going all right, I suppose. Studies seem to be going well, but I'm not shooting any fire from my fingertips yet. It would also be nice to get more familiar with arcane magic, but I'll take that class next semester."

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"You made a fabulous debut on the Dragonstryke team yesterday. I've never seen anything like it."

"Wow, coming from you, that means a lot. I was impressed with how you were flying around last weekend."

"I ought to charge Richmond a finders fee," Patrick smirked.

I gazed off to the side. I had a hard time keeping eye contact with Patrick. "There's still a lot I could improve on. People keep telling me I had a good showing, but it was cut too short."

"Yeah, I'm curious. What happened on the bench? I know you wouldn't tell Richmond anything, but I'm your mentor. You can confide in me."

The thought of telling Patrick anything too personal didn't seem natural. It felt forced. Part of me wanted to explain that I couldn't get Farrah off my mind, and I wanted to hang out with her, but my gut feeling told me not to. Telling Patrick about the sabotaged play and how I almost got into a fight didn't seem right either. "Some things got intense. Not everyone likes me on the team, I suppose." I shrugged.

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Who would have guessed," he said sarcastically.

I punched the table, it wasn't hard enough to be heard throughout the busy room in the library, but a few people looked around to see where the noise came from.

Patrick scowled. "You know something? I was about to give you a lot of credit. I felt like I had you figured out all wrong, but no, you are indeed the immature hot head that takes things too seriously. I mean, I take things seriously, but I don't try and clobber anyone who tries to get under my skin."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I don't want to discuss anything regarding what happened on the field yesterday. Just like how you didn't want to talk about it last week. You get it now?"

Patrick exhaled. "Sure."

We sat there for a moment. It felt like both of us were in detention at the same table with the ability to talk.

"Well, anything else going on you want to talk about?" Patrick asked.

I thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, actually. I have something here in my cloak. Everyone I've talked to has no idea who may have sent it or where this place might be." I pulled out the letter and handed it to him from D.S.

Patrick's eyes widened the moment he saw it. He read it over and scanned the entire document. He scrunched his brow. "Where did you find this?" His tone was as serious as a detective's.

"Sorry, I must not have made that clear. This was in my mailbox."

"So this was given to you?"

"I guess so. The front desk worker told me I had mail, I looked inside my mail cubby, and this was in there, along with a letter from my grandpa."

"What's your grandfather's name?"

"Logan Magpie.

"Those initials wouldn't match."

"I know, that's why I'm wondering who sent me that letter."

Patrick rubbed his chin. "You haven't met anyone outside of Attleton and whoever is affiliated with Attleton, right?"

"No. I have no clue who could have sent this. It's pretty good handwriting, though." I chuckled, but Patrick didn't seem to find the humor in it.

"Can I take this with me?" Patrick asked.

"Why? You made it sound like you don't know anything about it."

"But maybe I could find someone who would."

"Oh well, in that case, just tell me who to take it to, and I'll handle it. After all, the letter was addressed to me."

Patrick took a deep breath. "Fine, I was just trying to help you." Patrick slid the envelope across the table back to me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw head counselor Jonathan talking to the librarian at the center of the circular counter. Putting the letter back into my cloak, I remembered that he might be a good person to talk to about the letter.

Patrick and I wrapped up our session after that. There was nothing else that needed to be said. There was nothing else I wanted to talk to him about. I went back to the Fyron Dormitory and studied until dinner time.

I took my time eating and talking with Boris and Chris. People were clearing out of the dining hall, but I still sat there chatting. They went to the Dragonstryke match and had nothing but kind things to say to me. I told them all about how I believed Arthur sabotaged me using his friend Miller in the middle of the match. Both of them thought I was crazy for saying that, but they came to my side when I told them the whole story.

After dinner, I went upstairs through the spiral staircase. I went to the hallway where Jonathan had his office. No one was around the hallway. Approaching his office, I was about to knock, but I heard a voice from the other side. I held my ear closer to the door.

"I don't understand why he'd want to meet with him." The voice sounded like Patrick's.

"And you're sure about what you saw? Was it indeed from Daniel? No mistake about it?" That was Jonathan's voice.

"Yes, yes, it was."

"Huh. That's interesting."

"What do you mean that's interesting? Don't you have any other information?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't. Perhaps Daniel knows something we don't. We thought it would be good for you to be his mentor. How has that been going, by the way? Could you see him being one of us?"

"Are you serious? I don't know how I feel about that at all. I would be very against it. He's too hot-headed, and he's not a good team player. We'd be asking for issues if he joined us for anything. Besides, it's not like he and I get along very well. I thought Daniel wanted me to only recruit friends of mine. You know, people I trust and want to work with."

"Yes, yes, I understand. All right, continue meeting with him, and we'll see how things progress or regress."

I took a few steps from the door, trying to figure out what they were talking about and if they were talking about me. I had a strange gut feeling. Going back near the end of the hall, I pretended I had just entered. Patrick came out of Jonathan's office, stared at me, and clenched his jaw.

"Rollie, what are you doing up here?" Patrick asked as we approached each other and stopped in the middle of the hallway.

"I just wanted to talk to head counselor Jonathan about something."

"What about? You can share it with me. After all, I'm your mentor."

Patrick kept playing the mentor card, and it was getting annoying. "Nah, that's okay. I just want to talk with head counselor Jonathan."

"Very well then. He's all yours," Patrick said, and he went down the spiral staircase.

Jonathan's door was wide open, and I walked in.