The scratching of a quill filled the air, inky lines crossing out the formulas already written on the page. Rowan frowned. According to the textbook, this should be the correct way to solve the magical equation in front of him, but the results were not right.

“You need to use Gladwand’s Fourth Theorem there,” Kanna’s voice drifted over. “It’s a double-layered rune, but the second layer is independent of the first. Solving them both at once is impossible.”

With a nod, Rowan scratched out two more lines of work, opening his textbook to Gladwand’s Theorems as Kanna returned to her own book, a steamy looking paperback with a smoldering, long-haired elf staring out from the cover.

The two continued in this manner for a while, Rowan working on comprehending the magical theorems laid out in front of him as his mentor occasionally chipped in with advice on where he was going wrong.

Finishing the last equation on the page, Rowan stretched broadly, the tendons in his arms cracking as he rid them of the kinks from an hour of studying. There was another page to go, but for a brief while, Rowan just enjoyed the moment; he could get to the second page in a minute.

A droplet of ink disrupted his basking, falling from the quill that was still grasped in his right hand and splattering against his cheek. With a sigh, Rowan used his sleeve to wipe it off, leaving a smear of black ink across his cheek and the cuff of his shirt.

“You’ve got more bruises,” Kanna said.

Rowan glanced over, his mentor was still hunched over her book, but her eyes were raised, staring at him from across the desk. Rowan shrugged. “Combat training has been intense recently.”

Kanna rolled her eyes. “Come on, Rowan, I’m not stupid. We both know that you’re not getting punched in the face every combat lesson. The students from Lykia are still harassing you, aren’t they?”

Rowan shrugged again. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. They’ll lose interest soon enough.”

“And if they don’t?”

“They will.” Rowan reassured her. “I’m not that interesting. They’re only going after me because Verking’s too strong to harass. It’s just first and second-years doing it, so I’m not really in any danger.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do something about it?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I can fight my own battles,” Rowan replied. “Besides, I don’t want to owe you any more favours than I already do.”

This appeared to satisfy Kanna, who nodded. “Wise choice. It will be tough for you to gain respect among your peers if you run to the teachers whenever trouble rears its head. Among nobles, reputation is crucial, and a reputation as a punching bag is far preferable to one as a snitch.”

Lifting his head, Rowan was about to nod in response when Kanna stuck out her hand, one finger raised warningly. “But! That’s only so long as the troubles you’re facing remain minor. Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you really do need help, Rowan. There’s no point to our relationship if you don’t rely on me when you’re in need.”

Looking down at his lap, Rowan felt his face grow hot. He was not used to such offers, made without accompanying demands or threats.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he muttered, his words so soft even he was unsure if he had really said them.

Whether or not she had heard him, Kanna appeared happy with his response, and she leaned back, stretching languidly in the sunbeams from her office window. For a moment, her appearance overlapped with that of a cat, enjoying the sun as it took a brief break from napping. A cat that could vaporize him and this entire room in an instant that was.

With a small yawn, Kanna finished her stretch, returning to her normal seated position with a content look. For a second, it appeared she had forgotten what they were talking about, but all of a sudden the light returned to her eyes, and the moment was gone.

“Well,” Kanna said, her eyes catching Rowan’s. “You should be getting a small reprieve soon.”

Rowan tilted his head in confusion, unsure of what she meant.

“Winter break!” Kanna clarified, clapping her hands together happily. “No classes, half the school goes home, and tons of good food in the cafeteria. Even if the ones bullying you remain here at Faebrook, without classes to go to, you’ll be able to avoid them.” Kanna paused. “I assume you’ll be staying here at the academy?”

“I will,” Rowan confirmed. “Not like there’s anywhere for me to go anyways.”

Kanna’s face fell slightly at this. “Any plans?”

“Not really,” Rowan replied. “Studying is the main thing I need to do. Exams are only a month after, and I really need to do better than I did on the midterms.”

“Well, you’ve definitely improved a lot in my class,” Kanna said, her gaze dropping to the books and papers spread out on the desk in front of him. “And with the amount of effort you’re putting in, I’m sure you’ll do better in the other ones as well. I mean, it’s not as if your grades can really go down.”

Rowan made a face. “Gee, thanks.”

Kanna laughed at this, her laugh light and airy like the tinkling of bells. “It’s true. Your midterm results were basically the lowest they could be without outright failing any courses. The only ones who scored lower than you actually did fail.”

“I remember,” Rowan replied tightly.

“Your magic grades are good though. Professor Typhandrios tells me you’re one of his favourite pupils, even if you’re not quite at the top of the class yet. And you are at the top of my class.”

“No I’m not. Morgana and Enkhchuluun got the highest grades in the midterm,” Rowan said, his eye twitching slightly as he mentioned the two names.

Neither of the two top students seemed to like him, and it irked him. Morgana at least seemed to dislike nearly everyone equally, which meant that as far as he could tell he had not been singled out as someone she especially disliked.

Enkhchuluun, on the other hand, seemed fairly affable with most students, or at least he did not share the same outright disdain for his fellow students that Morgana did. That meant that his cold attitude towards Rowan was entirely because of something he had done, and the only possible reason that either he or Dugan could think of was his score on the Test of Potential.

Was Enkhchuluun, a prince-like figure from the Nuxiong Dynasty, really so petty that he would hate a person for outscoring him in a single test? As it turned out, the answer seemed to be yes.

As if reading Rowan’s mind, Kanna spoke. “Talent attracts competition,” she said. “For those used to being at the top, being surpassed is their greatest fear.”

“You speak like you’ve experienced it,” Rowan surmised.

“I have,” Kanna replied, the corners of her lips curling upwards. “I was the top student of my year when I attended Faebrook fifteen or so odd years ago. Luckily for me, there were no upstart street urchins with enormous mana pools to cause me trouble, so I graduated without anyone to threaten my place at the top.”

“How fortunate for you,” Rowan said dryly.

“I certainly thought so.” Stirring her tea, Kanna took a sip, letting out a small exhale of pleasure as she enjoyed the warm liquid. Putting the teacup down, she stared at Rowan for a moment. “From what I can tell, Morgana at least doesn’t hate you specifically, and I don’t think Enkhchuluun does either.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“They don’t,” Kanna insisted. “They’re just afraid.”

“Afraid?” Rowan scoffed. “Of what? Me? The guy whose grades are thirty points lower than theirs?”

“Yes,” Kanna replied. “Or rather, what you represent.”

“What I represent?”

“Indeed.”

Rowan let out a frustrated growl. “What do you mean, what I represent. How do I make a pair of talented rich kid assholes afraid of me?”

“Language,” Kanna admonished sharply.

Rowan ducked his head, chastised. “Sorry, master.”

Kanna tilted her chin, accepting his apology. “I don’t expect you to understand their perspective, but I’ll do my best to explain.” Pausing, she cradled her teacup within her hands, her gaze going disant for a moment before snapping back to Rowan. “You’ve never experienced life at the top, but I know you’ve experienced life at the bottom.”

Rowan nodded.

“Living at the bottom means the only way one can go is up; any change is an improvement. However, the inverse is also true. Once you have reached the peak, the only way to go is down. Any change will be a negative, and this means that those who have reached the top are always scared of those they can see approaching from below. Any new competitor is a new threat to their position.”

“But why?” Rowan asked. “Even if I score a hundred on the next exam, if they still scored ninety-nine, why can’t they just be happy with that? Their score is no worse just because mine is better.”

Kanna smiled softly. “Being the best comes with a fair bit of ego. People flock to the best, be it food, items, or other people. No one willingly forgoes the best in favour of second place, and those at the top know this. Each and every person here at Faebrook has excelled their entire lives. Be it studies, wealth, or martial skill, they’ve all experienced what it’s like to be at the top back in their hometowns.”

“I haven’t,” Rowan protested.

“You’re an anomaly,” Kanna informed him. “Anyways, you take all those top performers and throw them into one place, and all of a sudden they learn that even among elites there are tiers. Among those tiers, Morgana and Enkhchuluun stand out as the best of the best, the cream of this year’s crop of students. They are the two whose drive to succeed and natural abilities have combined to place them at the top, and neither would ever surrender that position willingly. To them, you are the challenger that threatens their place in the hierarchy. It would almost be weirder to me if they weren’t wary of you.”

“I suppose that at least neither of them are tripping me in the halls,” Rowan muttered, touching his bruised cheek.

“A cause for celebration, to be sure,” Kanna agreed. “Now then, if you want to topple those two, you’d better complete those questions. Because they’re due tomorrow, and I’m not giving you points for incomplete work.”

With a nod, Rowan returned to the work in front of him, the rhythmic scratching of the quill filling the air once more.

An hour later, Rowan placed the quill down and yawned. It had taken him the better part of the day, but he was finally finished with his Magical Theory assignment. Satisfied that all was in order, he rolled it up, intending to stick it in his bag, but his master had other plans.

“I’ll take that,” Kanna said, reaching over and plucking the rolled up sheets of paper from his grasp. “You’ll get it back after winter break.”

“I’ve gotta wonder,” Rowan began, the hands from which his assignment had just been whisked still frozen in place, “isn’t this a conflict of interest? I mean, you’re my professor, but you’re helping me with the assignments you yourself handed out.”

“Probably,” Kanna acknowledged. Leaning forward, she flashed him a grin. “But why worry about a good thing? Practically every student here has had access to private tutors, the best schools money can buy, and years of training. Me helping you with your classes is just helping to even the playing field a bit.”

“I’m not complaining,” Rowan assured her, raising his hands in surrender. “Just wondering is all.”

“Well, unless Headmistress Kess decides to start enforcing rules that don’t exist, I think we’re fine,” Kanna replied. “And given that she herself did the same for me when I studied here, I don’t think we’re in much danger of that happening any time soon.”

Tossing his things in his bag, Rowan nodded. “Good to know. I’ll be taking my leave now, master.”

“Mmmmh,” Kanna responded. “By the way, I meant to ask earlier, are you free this weekend? I’ve got a party who would like to hire you on for a dungeon run.”

Rowan hesitated. He had not gone into any dungeons since his disastrous run with the Jackal Claws, and he was not sure he wanted to just yet. Although others probably assumed that it was, it was not as if he was now scared of entering dungeons after seeing someone else die. Death was a common visitor to the slums and alleys of Taureen, as he himself had almost been representative of, and it was something he had come to terms with before ever stepping foot inside his first dungeon with the Frost Blades.

No, the real reason he had not entered a new dungeon in the past few weeks was because he still had not sorted out how he felt about the role he had played within. Though he had not revisited the dream with the carriage and flames, Lekaar had been a common visitor within many of the dreams he had had since. Onder had also made a few appearances, though far less than the mouseman.

Onder’s death Rowan could easily rationalize, the man had been an asshole, even if he had not deserved to die for it, and his death had been a surprise. With the way the Fenraith had concealed itself, no warning could have saved Onder’s life, and this fact brought solace to Rowan.

Lekaar’s death on the other hand was something he placed squarely at his own feet. Though it was Klou’s order that had sent Lekaar to his death, it had been his inaction that had been the final nail in the mouseman’s coffin.

Realistically, Rowan understood that it was not his fault that Lekaar had died. Against a direwolf, his limited combat prowess would have been woefully inadequate to assist the archaeologist, and it was likely that he would have ended up dead beside him. But the guilt weighed on him, and he did not want to enter another dungeon until he had resolved the feelings that plagued him.

“Rowan?” Kanna prompted.

Looking at her, Rowan suppressed a groan. Kanna had asked him the same question the week before, but had accepted his unwillingness to enter a dungeon so soon after the events that had transpired. From the look in her eyes, Rowan could tell that this time, it seemed she was a little more determined to convince him to go.

“Do I have to?” Rowan asked plaintively. “I’d rather just focus on my studies for a bit; exams are coming up after all.”

“You don’t have to,” Kanna responded, and Rowan’s face lit up. “But you should.”

Rowan’s face fell. “Why?”

“The sooner you get back on the horse, the better. From experience, I can tell you that while it’s good to take time off and reflect, it’s bad to let emotions fester,” Kanna told him. “The guilt you feel is natural, but you cannot allow it to consume you. Climbers are rare, and meeting such a powerful one that also synergized with the natural boss of the dungeon and thus forced you to fight both at once was a freak accident. The sooner you realize that what transpired was not your fault, the better off you’ll be.”

“But it was my fault,” Rowan whispered, his voice going hoarse all of a sudden. “I could have saved them.”

Kanna shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “What happened in that dungeon was neither your fault, nor their lives your responsibility. The dungeon keeper should have ensured that no paths had opened up to allow a climber access. Its presence represents a failing on his part, not yours. And the leader of the party should have taken measures to ensure the safety of his team. As the porter, you did your job to the best of your abilities. That was what was required of you, and that was your responsibility. Nothing else. Their deaths do not fall at your feet, Rowan.”

“You can’t know that,” Rowan replied, clenching his hands into fists. Although he had told his master the gist of what had taken place down below, he had avoided going into detail about his role in the deaths of the two beastmen. No one, not even Kanna, knew exactly what he had done that had led to the death of Lekaar, and he intended to keep it that way.

“Rowan, look at me,” Kanna intoned.

Lifting his head, Rowan’s eyes met hers. Rather than anger, or pity, what he saw was within her eyes was empathy. Somehow, she knew what he was going though, and rather than condemn him for it, she understood.

“I’ve lost party members in the past, good friends even, and it’s never easy. But what I learned from those losses is that the one thing you cannot do is stop progressing. To abandon what you’re working for now is to insult everything they’ve left behind. Just like you, they had hopes, dreams, and ambitions—all of which are now gone. Death is the end of their personal story, but it is not the end of our telling of it. As their companion, it is your duty to ensure that you do not dishonour their memory by abandoning your own dreams, no matter how hard the road may seem without them.”

Rowan nodded, his throat too constricted to talk. He feared that he may cry if he was to say anything else, and so he said nothing, standing mutely in front of his master.

“I’ve got some errands to run,” Kanna said kindly, standing up behind her desk. “Stay here for a while, and leave when you feel ready. Okay?”

Rowan nodded. Grabbing a book from her desk, Kanna walked past him, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving him a gentle squeeze before moving by.

“Rowan?” Kanna’s voice rang out from behind.

Turning his head slightly, Rowan glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

“Think about joining the party I mentioned, okay? You’ve got a couple days before they’re set to leave, so no rush, but think about it.”

Lowering his chin imperceptibly, Rowan acknowledged her words. Behind him, the door opened and then closed, Kanna’s soft footsteps soon fading from the corridor beyond. Even though he hadn’t spoken, his hands still went to his face, wiping away a few tears that spilled down. For a minute, he just stood there, before turning and following her out.

The halls were chilly, and Rowan rubbed his arms to get the blood flowing as he walked. What he had assumed to be the chill of winter a few weeks prior had in actuality been the end of a rather gentle autumn, and the true winter was now closing in, its icy jaws encasing the academy in rime and frost.

For a southerner, it was hell, and Rowan was thankful for the heated halls and classrooms of the school. Unfortunately, Kanna’s office was located in a far recess of the academy, and as such the powers that be had apparently decided against investing in the same magics that heated the other parts of the school, something that Kanna herself had decried more than once as the cold set in.

As he walked, Rowan’s mind flashed back to Kanna’s parting words. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. For him, there could be no breaks. His starting point was too far behind the other students at Faebrook, and his natural talents were nowhere near prodigious enough to make up for it. In order for him to succeed, he needed to be working harder than anyone else, and that meant seizing every advantage that came his way. He had already taken two weeks off from dungeoning, he could not afford to take any more.

His mind made up, Rowan rubbed his arms once more. It really was too damn cold.