The maid flinched back at the very sight of Lance's magic and clutched at her dress. "I'm sorry," she squealed, her eyes squeezed shut. "I'm sorry. Please don't hurt him when it's my fault."

"Olpi, open your eyes," Lance huffed. The maid sheepishly opened her eyes to see that the magic circle was gone. "That wasn't the spell you thought it was. You might be a servant but punishing you with magic is not acceptable in this academy. This is especially true since all our servants, Demis, have magic. Speak, why did words of thanks facilitate violence."

"H-he…" the servant took a step back. "Nothing." The orb lit up.

"The truth, Olpi. You might be trying to help him but it will only make things worse, for both of you. Only the truth can clarify the situation. This academy's rules will always bring justice to the right people."

Olpi let go of her dress and her face turned to a blank slate, a skill that all Demis had learned over the course of their employment: "He used Elvish, sir. It caught me by surprise was all, but Travis seemed to take offense to that. Since it's not my place as a Demi to interfere with student matters, I could only bow my head and wait to speak."

A soft crack rang out and pieces of Lance's broken quill fell on the desk. "That's enough. You may go." Olpi curtsied before leaving. Lance read over the report, wanting to burn it but knowing it wasn't worth the effort, nor was he even that angry. Instead, it was as if the energy was sapped from him. His verdict was made, rules were rules. "Well Cerlius, quite frankly you're screwed."

Cerlius shifted in his seat: "I acted well within my rights to enact self-defense. He attacked me."

Lance shook his head: "For speaking Elvish, Cerlius. That language is not accepted here. No demi human language is. That's why Travis attacked you. Not only do you need to learn the rules of the academy but also how to act like a student. There is a reason that demi humans are only able to become servants here: the kingdom does not accept them as equal to us humans. Do not associate yourself with them. I cannot get you out of your punishment. All I can do now is minimize the damage."

Cerlius blinked: "Elvish is clearly known to me, buried in my memories." He stood up and slammed both hands on the desk "Why is that my fault? If it is against the rules to speak Elvish, then the language should have been purged from my memories, like everything else was."

"It doesn't work like that." Lance countered. "I told you that all spells carry some sort of randomness. What I didn't tell you is that the more complicated the spell, the more randomness it carries. I apologize for how bad of a card you drew but I can't change the ruling given how much you escalated the matter. For the Goddess's sake you blinded Travis, a fellow student, and broke his back. Granted he did slap you with your own fish but what you did was overkill."

Cerlius grabbed the orb. "I hurt Travis because he hurt me. I'll do it again and I'll still believe that I'm in the right." The orb didn't light up. "How are rules going to fix that?"

Lance tried to snatch the orb away but Cerlius simply flicked his wrist, moving it to the other hand. "Why should they? Rules are there to formalize the process of learning, to protect us all. You've been here less than a day. How could you know what's right and wrong?"

Cerlius pointed to his face, still slick with fish oil: "What's right is that I don't suffer from the idiocrasy of people like Travis, something your precious rules clearly didn't defend against. I spoke words of thanks for being given a fish and now what? What's going to happen to me?"

"You'll be shoved in the Dimmer for a day where you can only sit and think, disconnected from magic. Maybe then you'll get your head straight. If it wasn't for our healers Travis would be bedridden and possibly never be able to perform magic again. That's what you did to him. Do you feel any remorse? Do you understand the gravity of what your actions have caused? You didn't even know about our healers, did you?"

"He should be dead." Cerlius countered. He wasn't angry, nor was he vengeful, only talking as if stating a fact.

Lance grabbed his own black hair and tugged hard. "You don't believe that, you're just being an overdramatic, childish, hypocritic-"

Cerlius held out the orb, which wasn't glowing in the slightest. "He deserves to die. It's for the good of the academy."

"Y-you." Lance froze, his hand outstretched. Cerlius handed the orb over. "What did you do to this?" He looked it up and down, refusing to believe that the orb was working. "My name is Trenton," Lance intentionally lied and the orb lit up. He was struck dumb, his jaw agape at the light. "No, that can't right. It has to be broken. I refuse to believe a human being can naturally be that malicious."

"It is working," Cerlius said, hammering in a sharp nail through Lance's denial. A desk separated them, but to Lance, it felt as if Cerlius was standing inches away, bloodlust leaking out of this anomaly's every pore. "Travis isn't suited for magic, I am. He deserves every bit of what I did to him and more."

Lance resisted the urge to strangle this student: "Listen to yourself. This isn't you."

"Oh like I would know what is and isn't me!" Cerlius huffed. "I don't know my own last name. I know that I have one. I know that I had family but I forgot. I have no idea what I last ate, where I last slept, or what I called my home. When I find out, and I will find out, I'll let you know. In the meantime, while I'm stuck in the Dimmer, what's going to happen to him?" Cerlius said, slamming the orb on the papers with a thud. "While I'm stuck in the Dimmer, what sort of punishment will Travis suffer?"

"Nothing." Lance said. "Because he was in the right." Cerlius glanced at the orb, which was still dull.