Finally I'm out of that sea of, of, of people. I never want to see another people in my life.I looked up from the floor I was angrily glaring at and immediately saw Griffin. Void. A people.

I knew I was being irrational, but dealing with the crowd of what was supposed to be adults while trying to leave that horrendously packed room had put me in a foul mood. When I saw that his hair was still glittery pink, and the scowl on his face, my day got marginally better. Nice to see someone as cranky as I am.

I smirked at him, glancing pointedly at his hair as I walked past, but he caught my arm. "Remove your illusion, Butterfly Girl."

"Remove your hand, Wolf Boy."

That startled a laugh out of him, and Griffin let go of my arm. "I don't think Wolf Boy is as unique a nickname as you think it is."

"Neither is Butterfly Girl," I shot back.

"Fair enough. I'm not kidding about the Illusion though. Take it off."

"I'm curious, Wolf Boy. Do you know what my name is?"

He stared at me, unflinching. "Terrin Nightwalker, would you do me the honor of removing your illusion?"

Chuckling, I said, "Sorry Griffin, can't do. Have fun in class." I waved goodbye over my shoulder as I walked to my next class. Well. That was refreshing.

I snickered to myself about my little encounter with a certain unwillingly glittery-pink-haired hybrid in the hallway all the way to my next class, which happened to be outside. Hope this teacher is better than The Puffer. Then again, I hope they aren't.

In the field between the school and the inner wall, three teachers stood apart from The Puffer's group of victims. Huh. I didn't notice another class out here when I was with The Puffer. I was a little busy being tortured with exercise to pay attention to my surroundings, though.

I noticed the teacher on the right was Corlahn, so I smiled at her, and she gave me a small wave. The teacher on the left was Solbern, so of course I blatantly ignored her. But the teacher in the middle, he was new.

As if reading my mind, the teacher in the middle stepped forward. "Hey guys. So this class is for specific training. You guys have already had Specialization, which will help you get the technical skills you need, and your hour for just plain exercise. This class in particular, though, is here for you to learn the physical activities necessary for your specialization.

"We've split you guys up into three groups based on level of intensity. Today will basically be a free class, you guys can go do whatever you want after we've split you all up. Tomorrow your Specialization teachers will give us a list of stuff you'll need to go through, so get ready for tomorrow. And before I forget, I'm Mr. Pryor."

The teachers went about calling out specializations, and the students from each specialization went to their respective teachers. It turns out, Corlahn is even more interesting than she makes herself out to be, because she was the teacher for those who needed the highest level of intensity, including those who are specializing in soldiering, being a war leader, assassination, and more.

Solbern, as expected, was teaching those who needed the lowest level of intensity. My assigned teacher was Pryor, the teacher from the middle, who was going to oversee those of us whose specializations needed only a middlingly intense supplementary program thing. Why don't Right Hands get more physical training? Can't a girl learn how to murder someone in peace?

Pryor led us all up to the top of the inner wall, and I finally got to see what was in the tower rooms. The first thing I saw was weaponry everywhere. And I mean everywhere. I could see stands and notches that were probably meant to hold the artillery, but apparently the guards had decided to be lazy and leave their equipment all over the floor and the benches.

The human took one look at the mess, stomped over to one of the archways leading out to the top of the walls, and shouted, "Zakius! You and Geon get your asses here now!" Two guards with mussed hair in rumpled clothing shuffled into the tower room. Oooo busted. They're gonna get it.

Pryor stared at them with disdain. "What were you two doing just now?"

The guardsmen looked at each other sheepishly. "Arguing."

When Pryor raised an eyebrow, the one in the less rumpled uniform continued with a smarmy grin, "We were arguing very closely."

Pryor shook his head. "How many times do I have to tell you two? You can argue on your own time. You should especially not be arguing when I told you to clean this mess up three hours ago. You guys know I have a group of young adults to attempt to impress so I can gain their respect. How am I supposed to do that when all the pointy sharp things that will impress them are scattered around the room?"

I took pity on the couple. "I can help them clean up Mr. Pryor."

He nodded at me. "Thanks, um, girl. Oh, and you guys don't have to use honorifics with me. Just Barlum or Pryor is fine. I don't know why Nyletak insists on having the teachers use Mr.'s and Ms.'s and all that. You all are probably only about fifteen years younger than me." He sighed. "But you don't want to hear my ramblings. Just go talk to Kearra, er, Ms. Corlahn after class to catch up."

Pryor led the rest of the class out one of the archways, presumably to a different tower room. As soon as the last student left the tower room, I sagged against a wall, exhausted. I love socializing as much as the next unseelie-werewolf hybrid, but this much after a year of being ignored in the Light King's castle is a bit overboard.

Zakius and Geon ignored me for the most part, flirting as they put spears and bows away. I rested for a minute before picking myself up off the floor. The day is almost done. We're almost through. Then I can dream about exploding mushrooms again.

I started with the arrows, organizing them by type, quality, and color. Hey, it isn't my mess to clean. I offered to help, that's it. I considered adding another form of criteria, but couldn't think one up. By the time all the arrows were sorted and put away, the two lovebirds had finished with the rest of their weapons and left. Whatever.

Trudging down the stairs, I started plotting the quickest route to my room, only to be faced with the worst possible thing when I finally got to the ground. A person.

Well, to be more specific, Corlahn. I still wasn't sure how I felt about having gained her approval, nor was I sure what would happen because of it. Pryor did tell me I had to talk to her to find out what happened in class today. Kyarii's pearls. He must've gone and told Corlahn to wait for me. How am I supposed to head straight to Xothrien's realm now?

The history teacher laughed when she saw the look on my face. "Don't worry, we can walk and talk. You must be tired after your first day."

I mustered up enough energy to be polite. "I could say the same to you, Ms. Corlahn."

"I know I'm ready to lay down and not move for a month. First days are always the hardest." We lapsed into silence for a moment, before Corlahn seemed to remember herself. "Right. So for this class Mr. Pryor will be going over the physical skills that are supplementary to your specialization. He teaches the moderately intense version, so you should be learning more about self defense as well as how to defend another person than offense. However, in some cases. offense is the best defense, so you'll be learning some offensive maneuvers as well. Variations will depend on your specialization.

"One of the most frequently asked questions is the difference between your specialization and this class. Basically, your specialization hour will be spent on learning techniques and some supervised practice. This class will be a place for you to learn supplementary physical activities, enough to be able to at the very least defend yourself, and can be used as practice time." The history teacher sighed for a long moment. "And that was the spiel. Hope you liked it."

We walked in semi-awkward silence, and I stewed over the idea that was forming in my head. "Some offensive maneuvers" isn't enough. As we got to the main doors, I pulled Corlahn to a halt.

"Would you like to make a deal?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

I took a deep breath. "As long as I meet your standards in history, would you be willing to also teach me what you're teaching the aspiring assassins after hours?"

Corlahn studied my features, and I held still, hoping she would find whatever she was searching for. Eventually, she must have found it, because she nodded and said, "On one condition. Not only must you meet my standards grade-wise, you must also participate in class at least once a day." I nodded my assent, and we shook on it. "I look forward to hearing your thoughts in class tomorrow."

That's it. That's all the socializing for today. I'm done. I practically sleep-walked through the halls, but my path to sleepdom was obstructed by one insurmountable obstacle. Stairs.

I made it up three steps before I gave up, turned around, and shuffled off in search of a good napping spot. The first room I stuck my head into was perfect. I love the library.

I settled down on a couch, made myself a facsimile of a blanket with throw pillows, and peacefully entered Xothrien's Realm.

The next thing I knew, my face was making direct contact with the cool wooden floor, something was digging into my side, and my legs were being pinned down by something. "Huethor's bow," I mumbled as I tried to free myself from whatever was trapping me.

A quick glance around told me I was on the floor, the couch I had been sleeping on had decided to leave an imprint in the flesh of my waist, my makeshift blanket of throw pillows had betrayed me, and Griffin was snickering at me from a table.

"You Folnier-forsaken pixie hybrid. Unpin me right now."

Griffin managed to hold in his snickering long enough to say, "Sorry Rin, can't do. Have fun in your nap," before bursting into full blown laughter.

Stupid miniaturized couch. Stupid oversized pillows. Stupid pixie powers. I'm going to make that damn hybrid pray for Gafrial's mercy. I wriggled out from under the throw pillows and was about to attempt to throw the miniature couch at his head before I stopped myself.

There was a book in the Light King's library that had described some aspects of the powers of pixies. According to the book, although pixies could change the size of essentially anything, the weight would always remain the same. It hadn't been that hard to escape the throw pillows.

As a quick test, I tried to nudge the couch with my foot, but it wouldn't budge. Griffin was looking at me curiously in between his fits of laughter, and I could see that he was trying to figure out my next move.

I crouched down, trying to make it look like I was reaching for the couch so I could throw it at the irksome hybrid's face, and he smirked. I may be tired, but vengeance comes first. As suddenly as my sleepy mind could manage, I whipped out my hand, turned, and threw one of the enlarged throw pillows directly at his face.

When it made contact, I whooped and ran out of the library, my little victory energizing me enough to make it up the stairs to my room where I promptly fell asleep.

If I had been a bit less giddy and a bit more aware of my surroundings, however, I would have noticed the curious and slightly suspicious look Griffin had tossed me as I escaped the library.