Michael's legs feel like they're on fire. He's limply running alongside Scy, and Scy is falling behind gradually. Somehow Michael's mageless body is numbly running along with the average mage students in the herd.

Dust is kicked up behind the crowd of running students, and the cackles of a deranged woman echo throughout the circular arena. Michael expected Professor Bagu to be the most unsettling Professor of them all, but Professor Frost exceeded his expectations.

"KEEP THOSE LEGS MOVING, MAGGOTS!" Professor Frost shouts using a voice amplifying spell.

The sweat dripping off each student's body reflects the sun high above as they frantically try to keep pace with the herd. Tired gazes devoid of spirit look ahead as they run in wide circles in a vain attempt to evade their professor.

"She's crazy... Downright crazy!"

Michael glances to his left to see Scy stumbling, and without the energy to help him Michael can only watch as Scy falls to the dirt. Professor Frost will take him now, and soon enough Scy's screams will be added to the chorus of faint screams belonging to other slow students.

There's a pause before Scy's shrieking pierces Michael's ears. He grits his teeth slightly while pumping his leaden legs further, a painful sensation aching throughout his whole body as he sees David's exhausted body stumble and fall to the dirt a few meters ahead.

"YOU'VE GOT TEN MINUTES! GO GO GO!" Professor Frost booms from behind them.

Michael isn't able to derive any satisfaction from watching David get trampled, as the screams are a haunting reminder of what awaits those who dawdle in the death march. The dust is obscuring everything now, but at the start the whole class bore witness to the magical punishments Professor Frost used.

"What's the point of this? Isn't this a school for mages?"

The next few minutes are the epitome of suffering for Michael. His mind is numb to the pain coursing through his muscles, and the sound of his Professor's thundering footsteps push his leaden legs forward.

Eventually Michael's body gives out, and he tumbles to the dirt. Other students march up and over him without stopping, and he can hear Professor Frost's footfalls getting ever closer as his chest rises and falls rapidly.

"Fuck this stupid school!"

Michael's eyes shut as the dust threatens to blind him. He doesn't see Professor Frost's magic shoot huge spikes of ice into his body, but he can feel the splitting pain of being impaled by magical ice.

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Shockingly, the feeling cools to a comfortable coldness that gradually gets colder. This goes on as the fatigue and wounds on Michael's body heal while the ice reaches its coldest point.

~

The tickling sensation of something on Michael's upper lip causes him to swat his hands in front of his face. He's rewarded with a light smacking noise, and the feeling of hitting someone's cheek.

"Ouch. I think he woke up." Jamie says.

Michael's eyes snap open and he sees Jamie squatting over him, while Scy smirks in amusement off to the side. They both seem on the verge of laughter, and Michael can't figure out why.

"Wait, what happened? Is everyone fine?" Michael ask in confusion.

Scy looks at Michael's perplexed expression and has to stifle a chuckle before he responds. Jamie is a little less obvious about his amusement, but it's still noticeable.

"Professor Frost's ice magic is a healing magic, so once the ice melted we were just a little cold." Jamie answers.

Michael feels a little cheated by such a turn of events, but the loud toll of the bell reminds him that they've got other classes to attend. Scy gives Michael a hand while Jamie checks a school map for their next class.

"Our last class of the day is tomes." Jamie says flatly.

Scy keeps smirking at Michael even after having helped him up, and it makes Michael a little uneasy.

"Why do I feel like I'm the butt of a joke right now?"

Michael sighs whilst walking alongside Scy. Jamie leads the way to their last class of the day, and a few students Michael doesn't recognize smirk at him as if amused by something. Michael's frustration is nearly at the tipping point when they enter the tomes classroom.

Michael's sour mood gradually fades as he sees the professor stand up from a desk and move to the podium. Several other students stare a bit too long at the professor as she sidles up to the podium. To put it respectfully, she is a rather shapely woman.

"Welcome to tomes class." The professor says.

Her voice is like honey, and if it weren't for the age gap Michael might mistake his attraction for a crush. Scy seems to be having similar thoughts, however Jamie is unfazed.

"You can call me Professor Thaulmer." She says sweetly.

Michael is staring a little too long at Professor Thaulmer's lips when he realizes she's walking toward him. All eyes gravitate to the two of them, and Michael's heart leaps into his throat at the bizarre sequence of events.

"U-Uh..." Michael stammers quietly.

There's a moment where Michael thinks he's hallucinating, as Professor Thaulmer leans forward as if coming in for a kiss. That doesn't happen, though.

"You've got something on your upper lip, Michael." She says quietly.

There's a confused pause from Michael before he feels Professor Thaulmer's thumb slip across his upper lip without warning. The sensation isn't as one would expect, as her thumb felt like a dishrag damp with water.

"T-Thank you?" Michael stutters weakly.

There's a variety of snickers around the classroom, and Michael catches Jamie rolling his eyes at the exchange. Professor Thaulmer walks over to a book case near Michael and begins the lesson nonchalantly.

"What just happened?" Michael whispers to Scy.

"She wiped off the moustache Jamie drew on you when you were asleep." Scy replies quietly.

Michael's head whips around to stare at Jamie who shrugs while taking notes of Professor Thaulmer's lesson. Michael quickly opens his own notebook upon remembering they're in class, and takes his own notes.