Elaine anxiously tapped her thumbs together as she sat quietly beside Minerva, all the girl's focus dedicated to the miniature cauldron they left to simmer over the oven infused into the table before them. 

Bubbles popped like hundreds of ichorous balloons, all the while puffs of gas emanated out of the cauldron's lips in streams, Elaine being forced to bat them away with a hand whenever she ventured to glance at the multicolored solution swirling around inside.

There was a thick, if not itchy, scent in the air, not dissimilar to a fiery spice that would prick the inside of one's nose. After having spent countless hours helping her parents prepare potions in their store, Elaine had more than gotten accustomed to it. The same could not be said for everyone in the classroom, though. 

Even with it being the midpoint of their semester, she still spotted numerous other students turning their heads or cupping their mouth and nose with a hand or audibly gagging with a pinched expression. But, much like her, the hobgoblins weren't at all affected by it—at most, they'd croak curiously or make an odd sniffing sound that Elaine suspected was their version of a sneeze—which only furthered her hypothesis that Professor Lurgs had domesticated them to some extent. 

Her hobgoblin sat patiently in front of her, almost as if waiting to be served the potion they were preparing. Elaine could only hope that the end product would suffice the abnormal amphibian.

"Drahgar seeds," Minerva said absently, extending an open hand towards her.

"Drahgar?" Elaine repeated doubtfully. "Seeds like those would—"

"Compromise the effects of the gingersnap lilies. Yes, I'm keenly aware," Minerva said as if merely having to elaborate on her thoughts was an annoyance in and of itself. "But the counteractivity between those two will further discourage burning the incent nuts, which will limit the amount of excess concoction and keep contamination to a minimum." Her judgemental glare pierced Elaine in the eyes. "Light and shadows, do I really have to explain such rudimentary procedures? I thought you came from a family of potion-makers?"

"I do," Elaine said harshly, frowning.

"Then stop being useless and hand me the seeds already. You might be determined to fail this exam, but Aeris forbid, I won't let you drag me down with you." 

Elaine would have loved to retaliate with an insult...but they were fighting the clock. Preparing the base solution for the potion had cost them well over forty minutes. They couldn't afford to waste any time; every moment was precious. Exhaling dryly, Elaine swung a handful of seeds into Minerva's palm. 

"Was that really so difficult?" Minerva inquired in a mockstern tone. "Now, be a dear and go to the pantry again. It wouldn't hurt to stabilize its base with some more drahgar seeds."

"I thought we were supposed to be partners?" Elaine grumbled. "You've been treating me like I'm some servant girl since we began."

"Oh? Have I? Forgive me, but when you're raised in one of the most respected and well-renowned Noble Houses in the country like I was, you tend to forget common decorum." That should have been an apology, but to her ears, it was very obvious that Minerva was bragging, flicking her gray-colored hair as she smiled contently to herself. "Anyways, it's not like you care much for my opinion of you in the first place, so what is it to you how I choose to get the project done?"

"For starters, it's our project. As in, you and I are meant to be working together. Weren't you listening to Professor Lurgs? It doesn't matter how good the potion is if we keep bickering the whole time!"

Minerva raised a brow at her. "Are we bickering?"

"That's not...well, no, no, I don't—"

"No? Then why are we even having this discussion? It serves no purpose entertaining such trivial affairs when we should instead be prioritizing our objective. That would be the most logical course of action, wouldn't you agree?" Her manner of speech was calm, if not a little aggressive, but the way she peered into her with that concentrated stare made Elaine's voice shatter. Something about this girl always got the better of her. It was infuriating! "What's more, they say that a hobgoblin's glow is greatly dependent on how they're feeling. They're highly emotional animals."

Elaine glanced to where Minerva motioned her hand, only then noticing their hobgoblin shifting uncomfortably in its spot. Its eyes looked to be watering, and the bulging sac it carried underneath its throat quivered as if it were cold. Hobgoblins could allegedly sense the emotions of other lifeforms around them, both positive and negative.

"Should we insist on conceiving an argument between us, we run the risk of spouting an entirely new problem. And we wouldn't want that, would we?" Minerva asked rhetorically. "It is my objective to get the highest mark amongst this group, and in order to do that, we must first produce a hobgoblin that can cast a glow that is brighter than all the others. So I must infer, what is the hold-up? We need those seeds. Unless, of course, you have a better alternative, Harwood."

Sucking in air through her lips, Elaine shot out of her chair—startling the pointy-eared Edgar next to her—and headed for the pantry, not before spending a frustrated peak back at the girl seated smugly at the table. 

What Elaine most focused on was the pair of star-shaped emblems clipped to her shoulder cape—Radiant Stars. One was bronze; the other was silver. Elaine could hardly believe that Fearne had managed to acquire a single Star, and here Minerva was with two of the surging things. It was just one more feat the arrogant noble could lop over her. Just brilliant!

Gritting her teeth, closing her fists, Elaine sped for the pantry entrance, which came in the form of a wooden door built into the wall on the right side of the classroom. Oddly enough, the room it led to was larger than the classroom itself, stretching to be approximately twice its side. The pantry was composed of five rows of shelves, each fostering a plethora of natural ingredients and simple, premade elixirs typically kept in either a vial or a glass bottle.

Elaine was taken aback when she first set her sights on it. Her family had a pantry of their own, but it was really more of a shed than anything, and it wasn't nearly as diversified as this one. She could very well see herself getting overwhelmed by the sheer volume of ingredients there were to choose from. 

There were minerals mined from underneath the Argos Mountains—the very same mountain range where Mason's family had stationed their mining business—and enchanted powder that could only be found in faraway countries like Rymevar or Urista kept inside tightly closed vials no bigger than her hands.

Elaine was blindly admiring a rack of silvery solutions on a shelf in the second aisle when movement up ahead caught her attention. She wasn't the only one here, and soon, she became aware of the numerous other students zipping in a frenzy to gather what they needed to complete their potions. They were all making the same potion, however, so it seemed everybody was going about it in a different way, as no two students ever hurried back to the classroom cradling the same components in their arms.

That's right, this was an exam; she needed to be quick. Scooping up a handful of drahgar seeds—darkish-colored things that looked more like pebbles than seeds, and they stretched no further than the length of her forefinger—out of a wooden crate near the rear of the third aisle. There was barely any left. 

Elaine then rushed back into the classroom, and when she did, she noted the progress her classmates had made. Like her own, most of their concoctions were kept at a piping temperature where steam clusters spiraled past the furled lips of the cauldron containing them.

At the front of the classroom, Professor Lurgs stood, watching over all the students as they worked. She carried a notepad in her hands, and whenever she focused on a student, she swiftly scribbled something down on it. Elaine grew cold when Lurgs glanced in her direction and nearly stumbled a step as she tried to recompose herself.

Steadily making her way back to her own desk, she saw that Minerva had turned the dial of the miniature stove down to a cooler degree as there weren't many bubbles inflating and popping inside of the cauldron. Not only that, she had begun stirring a wooden spoon inside of it, not too quickly as to make a mess but just at the right pace to ensure that all the ingredients were melding correctly.

And where the girl had once cringed in disgust at the hobgoblin, she now patted the creature gently on the head, an unfeigned smile curved under her cheeks. Elaine didn't even think Minerva was capable of making that expression. 

Then again, she'd proved herself knowledgable, at least to a certain degree, about hobgoblins and their behavior. Could she have just been putting on a front to improve the amphibian's mood? If she was, her plan was undoubtedly working as the goblin purred joyfully with closed eyes as Minerva stroked a hand down the nape of its bulbous neck.

Though as Elaine neared their table, and Minerva noticed her arrival, that once pleasant smile vanished, and she quickly pulled her hand away from the hobgoblin in favor of checking a notepad she'd taken out of her satchel earlier. "Kept me waiting long enough, Harwood," she spat venemously. Elaine didn't feed into her grimace; instead, she took her seat and placed the bundle of drahgar seeds softly in front of her. "Finally," Minerva sighed. "It will require an estimated total of thirty minutes for the roots to absorb the rest of the potion fully. Once that's done, we'll need to take at least three samples before proceeding to the—"

"Actually, I've been thinking," Elaine started, cutting Minerva off midsentence, "that maybe we've been going about this all wrong."

Minerva seemed to take offense by that, as the leer she cut was as sharp as a basalisk's fang. "Wrong? What do you mean, wrong?" she asked, barely containing the annoyance in her voice. "We've followed the instructions to a T and recreated the potion perfectly. Now, all that we need to do is add the drahgar seeds to the mixture. What? You think because you're some genius potion-maker from the boonies that I might not be as educated as you are in the craft?"

"Not in the least," Elaine said, keeping her focused stare on the cauldron. "As a matter of fact, this has to be one of the most pristine potion bases I've ever seen. I can certainly tell you have a background in potion-making. Why, if my mother saw this, she'd be willing to hire you as her apprentice without a pause for thought."

Minerva straightened in her seat. Was that a blush staining the sides of her face? "Then, what, pray tell, is plaguing you so?"

"I fear that we might be playing right into Professor Lurg's trap."

"H...Her trap?"

"Yes," Elaine nodded confidently. "She might appear to be friendly on the outside, but one thing I've learned from attending her classes is that she's far craftier than you would otherwise suspect." Elaine stopped talking as Minerva took a subtle peek at the front of the classroom, right where Professor Lurgs was side-eyeing the table nearest to her—it looked to Elaine that she was specifically targeting Mason and his partner. "I also noticed that when I went into the pantry, most of the other students were searching for the same ingredients as I was. It's probably because they're of the same mindset as us," Elaine explained. "They know that drahgar seeds are likely to catalyze a stronger reaction from the hobgoblin."

"Because it aids in purifying the contents of any potion," Minerva countered. "'A messenger falcon would sooner use its wings to soar than its talons to climb.' I'm positive even you've heard that saying before, Harwood, wherever it is you come from. If it isn't broken, it's pointless to attempt to fix it."

"Oh, please. If we believed there wasn't a need for improvement, then Professional Sorcerers might not even exist today," Elaine snickered, and that only made Minerva even more perplexed. "What if I told you there's a better ingredient other than the drahgar seeds? One, I reckon, nobody else would even think to get?"

By the manner in which Minerva furrowed her brows and tightened her lips, Elaine half anticipated that she might protest in favor of their current strategy. Much to her surprise, the gray-haired girl leaned closer to her. "I like to think I've all but considered every possible alternative," she said tentatively. "However, perhaps you've got something twisting in that ignoble brain of yours. Ten seconds, I'm willing to listen to your imbecility."

*

* *

With some effort, Elaine pushed open the ceiling door and reluctantly ventured a look outside. The flurry of cold wind howled over the angular path, threatening to kidnap a haphazard mage, flinging them off the sides where they would ultimately meet their demise hundreds of feet below. Elaine was determined not to be one of those fools, although she would have to be a little bit of a fool herself to be doing this at all.

With a hand raised above her in order to keep the square-shaped roof door from slamming closed atop her skull, Elaine squinted her eyes a sum of thirty meters ahead of her, where a thick, cup-shaped structure made of sticks, lichen, and whatever else one of the beasts could amass remained rooted in its spot, not so much as giving an inch to the heavy gusts of wind spiraling in cycles—a nest.

Elaine felt herself shiver, not from the wind, but from the possibility of being ripped into ribbons by talons as sharp as any sword and having her bones be used as the foundation of another nest. 

A creak of a ladder step giving underneath someone's weight alerted her of Minerva forcefully shoving her way next to her. Unlike herself, Minerva looked more annoyed than anything, glaring as she too focused on what they'd come to retrieve, or rather, what they hoped would be resting in that nest.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Minerva said irritably. "Are suicidal customs such as these a common occurrence in the countryside, or are you an oddity even there?"

"You had a chance to stop me earlier," Elaine countered flatly. "It was a long walk from the classroom, but we kept on going, didn't we? Don't start complaining now."

"I've read about them, but I've never seen it used in practice. And you're positive that this will—"

"It will work." Elaine wasn't sure if she was trying to convince Minerva it would or herself, but she assured that the tone of her voice was a strong one. At least, it sounded that way to her. "If it doesn't, we'll use the drahgar seeds like you originally suggested. No harm done."

That seemed to satisfy the girl. Elaine had expected more opposition, but gripping the edge of the square opening tightly with her fingers, Minerva's mouth was sealed so firmly that it made the grimace flatten on the girl's face. Closing her eyes, Minerva exhaled through her nose, then, sideglancing at her, she tilted her head in a motion toward the nest. "This was your plan, Harwood," she said coldly. "Well? Finish it."

"Wh...What?!" Elaine gasped. "You're not coming with me?"

"Why should that astonish you?" Minerva said apathetically. "I have too much to live for to enter the Eternal Gardens with some foolish commoner with a death wish. I'm staying here where it's safe."

Elaine frowned. "So, you're a coward, are you?"

"Call it cowardice; should that bring you solace," Minerva grunted. "I prefer to think of myself as inferential. Should we go out there, the chances of us coming back with all our limbs attached will be highly unlikely. If the winds don't finish us off, they certainly will, especially since it's their territory upon which we are encroaching. I never had any intent of putting myself in that kind of danger to begin with. Seeing as how you designed this insane plan yourself, should it not also be fair that you fulfill it?"

"We're supposed to be a team!" Elaine retaliated loudly.

"Yes, we are. And nothing has changed." Minerva gave her an expression with level of impertinence only a noble could deliver. "I make the potion; you gather the ingredients. That has been our dichotomy this entire time, has it not?" She extended a hand outside of the hatch. "Your ingredients await. I welcome you to beseech me a coward, Harwood, but if you can't even follow through with your own strategy, then by what grounds do you—"

Elaine didn't hear the rest of Minerva's nonsense as she had already lunged herself out from underneath the hatch door. However, she needed to steady herself almost in an instant. The narrow path spanning in front of her wasn't enough to worry about; the winds that caused her hair to billow nearly rammed her off in the first second.

From what she could tell, they were on the roof of the seventh floor. She was so high up that if she were to lean over the edge and stare down—which she wasn't planning on doing—she didn't think she'd see where stony cliff met grassy plane. 

There were only a few tips of spires and towers that stretched above her, their blue-colored flags flapping wildly in the breeze. Colossal, amorphous shapes of clouds that had covered the son rolled over the roof as splotches of darkness.

She had imagined having spotted a few of them watching her from ledges or perched where a flag pole was jabbed into the roof, but, for the time being, there was no sign of them, which Elaine was more than grateful for. If everything went smoothly, she wouldn't need to resort to the emergency plan she had strung together at the last minute.

Pacing herself, Elaine neared her target. She was only an arm's length away from it now, and a lump lodged itself in her throat as the swinging motion of an expanding wing erected out of the nest, accompanied by what sounded like a yawn. 

Steeling herself, Elaine inched closer to the nest—which rose to her waist—and saw what was inside. At that moment, she felt her eyes widen, and the sides of her face explode in pinkish heat.

What lay before her was one of the cutest creatures she'd ever seen. The quadrupedal animal reminded her of a cat—though it was in actuality the size of a large dog—with brownish fur that bordered on gold, a sharp head that poked out in a beaked snout, and a long tail that ended in feathers shaped in a diamond. But what most distinguished the infant animal was its set of wings extending out of its spine and curled over the rest of its body, used as a kind of blanket to keep it warm from the breeze, no doubt.

Elaine didn't think the grin that made her face cramp could grow any longer. So cute!! However, she couldn't be distracted, and the disturbing reality was that this animal, even in its juvenile stages, could still prove itself as a threat if it in any way felt provoked. Glyph Academy had chosen a griffin as their academy emblem for a reason. 

Not only were they noble and respectable animals, but they were effective and powerful predators who didn't take kindly to anyone intruding upon their homes. No matter how much she wanted to reach in and pat the sleepy animal on the head, no matter how much she wanted to sit there for hours to examine it, she needed to get what she came for and leave as fast as she could.

Swallowing, Elaine swiftly grazed her eyes all around the enclosed nest until she discerned something gold flickering through the intertwining sticks and tree branches. Every now and again, griffins would cough up pieces of food and material that their stomachs couldn't digest properly, and that usually came in the form of what many referred to as griffin tears. 

They were rare, and it certainly was a large gamble if she'd come across one or not. Still, Elaine had a feeling that, since griffins tended to breed and raise their young in the fall, they'd have a reason to provide the smaller griffins with a large majority of food, which, in turn, would heighten the odds of the juveniles producing a griffin tear.

Then again, that was just her theory, but she certainly was relieved that it was correct. Elaine entered the nest, the crunch of thickets breaking with her every step drowned out by the gusts of wind. Nevertheless, Elaine was still careful not to make any noise; the last thing she needed was to awaken the tiny animal that had just released another yawn and turned on its side toward her. Such a cutie! Elaine thought, smiling giddily at it. But she regathered her focus again with a shake of her head.

Crouching to her knees, she buried her fingers into the nest's base, pulling out a golden-colored scale as wide as her hand and as thick as her arm. This had to have come from one of the adults. It was surprisingly heavy as she carried it, but it was as smooth as a shaved diamond, capturing her enthralled expression on its glistening surface. 

A griffin tear of this caliber would surely do wonders for their potion. Perhaps Minerva's goal of having their hobgoblin be the brightest amongst the class was well and truly a feasible possibility now.

A snort distracted Elaine out of her beguiled stupor, and as she lifted her head from the tear, she came face to beak with the furred animal standing only a few inches from her, cringing from the hot, pungent scent that jetted into her as the infant breathed. Its wide, pale yellow eyes locked directly onto her seemed to imply that it was more curious about her than scared. Even still, Elaine was reluctant to make any sudden moves to startle it.

"Oh...hello, little guy," Elaine grinned awkwardly. "Don't mind me...I was just leaving..."