Once back at the academy, Albanos immediately made a beeline for his office. He intended to go up and clean himself a bit after that messy business and then track down Billicks and Elwhite for a long discussion on the nature of the current political environment.

He walked more or less by memory, the world around him unimportant. He was preoccupied instead with wondering where this whole string of incidents was leading and where the messengers he’d actually sent out were. More importantly, where were the people they’d been sent to speak to? It began to feel like his need was more urgent than originally thought.

As he crossed the courtyard toward the main building, he noticed, even through the haze of distraction, a figure trying so hard not to be recognized that he couldn’t help but become the center of Albanos’s attention. Even though its back had turned toward him, Albanos was confident from the clothing and the timid walk that it was Willam. The boy had done an immediate about-face when he’d seen the old assassin coming and was now trying to hurry back to the dorm building as fast as he could without breaking into a full-out sprint. Albanos was eager to have a distraction of any kind for a few moments and had no qualms about running to catch up. After all, he wasn’t trying to evade anyone or keep from drawing attention to himself. Those days were over, and he might as well enjoy that fact. He quickly outpaced the boy.

“Hello there, Willam, how are…dear gods son, what happened to you?”

Were it not for the inarguable fact that the mess before him was occupying the front of someone’s head, an up-close observer might have had trouble categorizing what Albanos was looking at as a face. Willam’s left eye was swollen nearly shut and already quite purple. A good-sized gash ran across his right cheek, a little blood still seeping through the triage-quality stitches of the school’s infirmary. Dried blood covered his chin from where his lower lip was split, and there was a nasty, blackening lump on his forehead.

“I…uh…I had an accident in class…”

“Willam, I know your schedule. The last class you were in was mine. And I’d have at least had the decency to apologize for…this,” he scolded, gesturing vaguely at his plethora of wounds.

“Oh…right…” Willam glanced around frantically, his one good eye searching for some graceful way out of his predicament. It found no one to latch onto and no convenient holes to curl up in, and the earth seemed to have no interest in cracking open and swallowing him at that precise moment.

“Sir, if it’s all the same, I’d rather not say what happened.”

“Well, it’s not. One of my students who is not on a contract has been beaten senseless, so much so that he’s gotten it into his head that he can withhold information from me. That immediately makes it my business, both as principal and teacher. Who did this to you?”

“Sir, please, I don’t want to get you involved.”

“What, you’re worried about my well-being? I think I can take care of myself; I’ve certainly been through--“

“I know you can, I’m worried about us! I mean…I mean me! I’m worried about me. If you get involved, it will make things worse.” Albanos had caught the slip, and his eyes narrowed while things became more evident.

“Us? As in, you and someone else? A couple, perhaps? This has to do with that Bruno fellow you and Elayna are always sneaking around behind, doesn’t it? The only person I’ve seen you act more afraid of than me, come to think of it. What’d he do, catch wind that you and Elayna had been studying together? Thinking of one another? Sharing oxygen?”

Willam stood in sullen silence, his eyes – or eye, as the case may be – fixed on his boots.

“Willam, what do you have to lose by telling me? What is it you’re afraid that I’ll do?”

“You’ll meddle! You enjoy meddling! Elayna says it’s all over your history. You’ve meddled with nearly everything important that’s happened in recent years. She made me promise not to tell you what’s happening, Mr. K’hras. She doesn’t want you meddling. Please don’t make me break a promise to her.”

Willam sounded so pathetic that Albanos couldn’t help but try to find an out for him because he was right. He was going to meddle; it was in his nature, but there was no need to get this kid in trouble with his girl over it.

“You know, Willam…you didn’t tell me anything. I just saw you and figured out that Bruno was the one that’d mussed you up, which in itself is enough to make me go talk to him…and if I just happen to find out certain other aspects of what’s going on during our little chat, that’s all on him, right?”

It wasn’t much, but to a drowning man, even particularly buoyant seaweed shouts of hope. Willam shuffled his feet, keeping his head tilted to avoid the principal’s gaze, but muttered something suspiciously like, “I mean, when you put it like that…”

“I knew you’d see it my way. Now here…” Albanos rummaged around in one of his pockets and came out with a small jar covered in odd runes traced into the clay. He stared thoughtfully at it for a moment, then seemed to reach a decision, handing it over to Willam.

“A very nice druid gave this to me once and still supplies me with a refill whenever I see him. It’s a healing salve; only they can make it. It stings like a bastard, but the cuts and swelling will have both already gone down a good bit before class tonight if you go straight to your room and put a little on each right this instant. By tomorrow you won’t even look like you’ve been in a minor tussle, much less like you’ve been run over by a carriage. Just…be sure you have something to bite down on first.”

Willam took it cautiously and then…smiled. Albanos was almost certain it was the first time he’d ever looked anything but petrified in his presence. He patted the young man on the shoulder, then quickly apologized when he winced and whimpered at the contact with some unseen injury. “Right, now that I’ve ruined our little moment there, I need to go talk with our friend. A talk which you know absolutely nothing about, of course.”

Albanos was watching the young man limp-jog off toward the dorms when he heard Elwhite’s voice calling. She had come out of the main building and was now crossing the courtyard. It seemed he couldn’t even wander outdoors without becoming busier than anticipated.

“Where have you been all day? You haven’t even touched today’s forms. I believe your desk is about to collapse beneath them. Billicks has been using your example to lecture any student he can corner about the importance of responsibility and punctuality. I think they’re on the verge of mutiny. Then again, that would probably be difficult to tell given their usual attitudes.”

Albanos closed his eyes so she wouldn’t see them roll, but she poked him in the chest anyway. “I’ve dated enough to know that trick, mister. I’m just giving you some idea of what to expect when you walk in there.”

“Fine, fine, but do me a favor. Go get Billicks, and the two of you wait in my office. I’ll be along shortly. And do you know where I can find a student named Bruno?”

Elwhite crinkled her nose in obvious disgust.

“Why would you want to do a thing like that?”

“I have some…matters to discuss with him.”

She caught from the pause and the look in his eye that it was best she not pursue things any further, in case plausible deniability would come in handy later.

“He and his moronic friends spend the evenings out back playing ball and being generally sexist and obnoxious, so I’m not going to keep you from doing whatever it is you’re going out there to do. I will tell you that he’s one of the legacy brats though, so if this visit of yours is going to have consequences of the more permanent kind, I’d be sure that his parents’ contribution was in the treasury first.”

Albanos thanked Elwhite and stalked off towards the fields behind the academy.

About twelve young men were running around, wearing highly non-regulation bright shirts and khaki-colored leggings. They were kicking around the inflated bladder of some poor large animal and yelling the kinds of things at each other that would make hardened military men feel like going to the temple afterward. Several bottles bearing the stamp of the Staggering Shadow rolled aimlessly about in the dirt, driven by the evening breeze, indicating that to these people, it was never too early to start the party. Most had signet rings on their hands, indicating that mommy or daddy had graduated from here, which to this point in their education meant they were all paid up and in good standing regardless of whether they did things like listen, study, or attend class. Mostly, it meant they didn’t want to be at school but didn’t want to be cut off from their trust funds, either.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Occasionally, small groups of students would wander by, studious types coming in from the archery and throwing weapon ranges farther out. If they were male, they were yelled at for being geeks – though in inevitably more florid and purple language – for studying and practicing outside school hours. Sometimes, the bladder ball would be flung at someone’s head, followed by peals of hideous, braying laughter from the rest.

If they were female, the dialogue became even more obscene and focused on the anatomy of the passerby with all the precision the jocks lacked in the arts they should be practicing.

Albanos watched all this from the shadows cast by the academy's walls, slowly but surely building his case against them. After all, he was principal now, and one student’s vendetta wouldn’t be enough to justify any kind of action. This sort of behavior, though? Public drunkenness before school hours? This was the sort of thing you built letters to parents around, which is more valuable than gold to a school administrator when dealing with students like these.

Another group of rather squirrelly-looking male students in full archery gear was wandering past, trying to use as many of their stealth lessons as they could, but done no favors by the cruel sun. It was obvious from their prey animal movements that they were painfully aware there was only one course of action predators like these could take. Sure enough, as soon as they were spotted, the cat-calling began. One of the larger boys, who happened to be holding the ball at that moment, reared back to hurl it, along with some choice obscenities, at the nearest archer. Albanos had seen more than enough.

When the boy’s arm came forward with the full force of his might behind it, all he managed to do was fling a somewhat deformed piece of rubbery skin a few feet before it plopped onto the ground, the last of the air leaving the ball on impact replete with embarrassing deflation noises. On either side, barely visible among the folds, were an entry and exit wound, easily identifiable to even the worst students as the sort of thing a crossbow bolt left behind when passing through a solid body.

Twelve sets of eyes swiveled up, following the path the bolt would have taken, given the positioning of the holes. Walking towards them with more than a bit of swagger was a man with a lit cigarette in his mouth and a funny-looking crossbow in one hand. Recognition was slow in coming, though, because most of them hadn’t bothered attending the introduction assembly or even being on campus that much, with the Shadow keeping longer hours this year.

On the other hand, the archery students, pulling from both the intuitive danger sense that the perpetually picked-on often developed and their own carefully maintained mental files about the academy faculty, dropped their gear and ran.

The large boy who had been aiming to peg one of the fleeing archers with the ball before its untimely demise, stepped up to meet the stranger.

“Whadda you want, you punk-arsGRAAGH!”

Albanos’s empty hand shot out faster than any of them knew a limb could move and struck the bully hard on the side of the throat. One of his legs then swept the choking boy’s feet out from under him, sending him to the ground, still clutching his neck and struggling to breathe. Albanos never took his eyes off the rest of the group, acting like this sort of thing happened daily. For a while there, it truly had.

“Now…” he began, after a few moments of dramatic pause where the only noises were the gurglings from the prone figure rolling around on the dirt. “I will put your buddy’s windpipe back into place if you tell me which one of you is Bruno.”

No one spoke, because you didn’t rat out your buddies, but everyone did shift by a half-step in specific directions until one person was left standing quite on their own. It was the one who’d been most vocal towards the females, a young man in expensive-looking clothing with the air of low-ranking nobility that Albanos was sure someone with no standards could find handsome.

“Excellent. You types have never exactly been known for your loyalty.” One of Albanos’s boots came around and hit the incapacitated student on the opposite side of the neck. There was a sickening pop, and he immediately began gasping desperately, coughing and bringing in dust by the mouthful, but too happy to be reunited with his lungs to care.

“My name is Albanos K’hras. Principal K’hras to you while we’re at it. And I’m in charge of you ‘students,’ even if I use the term loosely. As such, Bruno, you’re coming with me. We’re going to take a little walk.”

“You can’t make me do shit. We’ve got you outnumbered. Whaddya say we jump your ass and beat you senseless instead?”

Albanos kept his eyes locked on Bruno, but swung his crossbow up so that the point of the loaded bolt came to rest on the forehead of the student nearest to him. “You there. What’s your name, boy?”

“Mrrh!” they managed.

“Very well Mrrh. Do you feel particularly inclined to ‘jump my ass’ right now?”

The young man briefly shook his head, stopping as he felt the bolt dig into his skin.

“N-no, sir. The only thing I feel like doing right now is returning to my dorm and studying, sir, and then calling it an early night.”

“Good man. Anyone else?” he asked, waving his crossbow around menacingly, causing everyone to step further away from Bruno. “Well then, I think you’ve vastly over-estimated the forces at your disposal. Us. Walk. Now. The rest of you, get out of here, and if any of you ever show up in my office on a disciplinary charge, you get to go for a walk, too.”

With whatever buzz they’d had going now long replaced by the sobering effects of a loaded weapon pointed at them, everyone but Bruno scattered off towards the Academy and village, many silently vowing to see what classes they were supposed to attend this semester. Bruno remained stock-still, trying his best to glower at Albanos, who wasn’t buying it.

Using the point of his crossbow, Albanos shepherded Bruno away from the well-traveled paths between the ranges and the school, off into the hills to the east. They stopped in a small valley that wasn’t far from the campus, but Bruno couldn’t help but notice that it was well out of sight of anyone, thanks to the hills blocking them from the outside world. He was obnoxious and malicious but certainly not so dense that he couldn’t recognize when a bad situation was getting worse. A harsh shove sent him stumbling to his knees. Albanos’s boot finished pushing him face-down into the grass.

“You can’t treat students like this!” he wailed as Albanos, one knee on the small of his back, began to bind his hands together.

“No, I can’t. That’s why I’ve expelled you. I wrote the letter while I was watching you all. It’s quite official sounding.”

“What did I get expelled for?!”

“Haven’t gotten quite that far yet. Left a blank space for that bit. I’ll think of something though. I can be very creative, given proper motivation. You haven’t exactly given me slim pickings to choose from either, with your recent exploits, now have you?”

Bruno stopped struggling beneath him then, and Albanos saw the color drain from his face, or what he could see of it for all the grass he had it shoved into. This struck him as odd. Since when did a bully feel this much remorse for beating up a socially inept kid like Willam? Wasn’t that their job?

“I ain’t done nothin’,” he replied after a few seconds, remaining very still and very pale. That clinched it. The only people who’d never done nothin’ were the people who’d recently done a whole lot of something they shouldn’t have. Albanos decided this was worth pursuing a bit.

“Oh, I don’t know Bruno. Do you think I’d personally abduct at crossbow point a student who’d done absolutely nothing wrong?" Sure he would, he pretty much just had, but that didn't need to be common knowledge just yet. "No, I’m a very busy man. You’re just a bit of a special case.” Now the kid was shaking.

“My dad is very influential, and he will have your job and your head for this! Oh god, please let me up, I ain’t done nothing…”

“Do you really think your daddy can protect you from what you’ve gotten yourself into?” Albanos didn’t know why he said this, since he still had no clue what he’d stumbled across here, but figured why not. It just sounded good. Bruno immediately began sobbing.

“Oh gods, oh gods, he told me no one would find out! He told me if I just shut up and followed orders, no one could find out, least of all you! Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods…” The boy kept repeating this refrain, broken up only by the occasional racking sob.

Now he had Albanos’s full attention.