"The healer won't treat us," the student said.

"Why?" Lance asked. The frail boy barely stood straight. There were still small cinders burning in his gray hair. Luckily the burns stopped within an inch from his brown eyes or he would have been blinded. "Are you banned from the medical wing? Every student is entitled to receive treatment if it is requested. It's in the first section of the rulebook for the goddess's sake."

The student shook his head and pulled a spool of bandages out of his spatial ring. "I can still move around. The healer will send me back without using any holy magic."

"Allow me," Lance said with a hand outstretched. "I've been feeling more useless than Ploly standing around here." The boy handed the bandages over and Lance began wrapping the side of his face. "What was your name again?"

"Pince," Pince said. "I'm not surprised you don't know my name. I never really talk in class, except maybe to Ronlo or occasionally some others."

Lance nodded: "Maybe you should ask more questions. You'll stand out."

Pince let out a nervous chuckle: "Right. I'll just do that."

Lance tightened the first layer, and Pince winced. "Why do you sound so hesitant?"

Pince lowered his head. "I don't know how to describe it other than I don't want to take Cerlius's place. He just keeps asking so many questions. He can't wrap his simple mind around such a complicated subject like magic."

"What?" Lance nearly threw Pince off the Reach. The boy actually sounded sincere, like he was telling an embarrassing truth. "Where did you hear that?"

"Everyone knows it." Pince shrugged, still not looking his instructor in the eyes. "He can only think with his fists, like when he dealt with Travis. He even showed up in smelly, torn clothes the first day of class. Isn't that why you made him your apprentice, because he needs special help?"

'What? That's it? That's what got him isolated from the rest of the class?' Lance frowned and tied off the last portion of the bandages. "It seems like the class has grinded to a halt since he was sent to the medical wing, don't you agree?"

Pince rubbed his chin. "I guess so." He felt along the border of bandages and singed hair: "You're really good at this, even better than the Demis." He suddenly grabbed Lance and ducked right as a jet of boiling water flew over their heads and into the sea of clouds below.

"You useless idiot!" Jersin screamed at the source of the failed magic circle. Lance could read Jersin like a book. His pent up rage had lost its outlet. He was too busy with his own students to harass the Demis like usual. He practically foamed at the mouth while he waved his rusty cane around.

Each class had grouped around their instructors, who held ready to intervene at any moment. 'If that stream had hit someone...' Lance thought. 'they'd need more than bandages.' He turned back to Pince: "How can you be so certain the healer will refuse to treat you with magic? Is she even accepting students anymore?"

The boy pointed to his leg which, now that Lance took a closer look, was covered in scabs and blisters. First; maybe even second degree burns. "I know from experience that she isn't accepting anything other than severe injuries. All my friends get the same response: as long as we can practice magic, we can't stop training.

We couldn't argue because the people she saves her magic for…" The exposed side of his face paled. "If it wasn't for holy magic, I'm sure those poor souls would have died. Compared to them, I'm fine." He tugged at his charred robe. "Relatively."

Lance looked Pince up and down. He couldn't offer any comfort, nor could he think of a proper apology. Students flew through the Reach like shooting stars in a night sky. Lance caught them and sent them straight back to work. 'The students are already getting slaughtered,' he thought. 'How could it get any worse than this?' He let out a long sigh: "Go. I can't think of a reason to stop you."

"Thank you." Pince took his leave and slowly, an unstable magic circle took shape in front of him.

Lance bit his lip and tasted blood. He was a mere observer of the chaos unfolding like the rest of the infuriated instructors. Lectures were not allowed, since the Reach was a place for practical experience. If that rule wasn't in place… Or he could just break the rules, just once. It wasn't too late. He could do it. The other instructors broke the rules and got off scot free. Why couldn't he?

A burst of pain rose up from his left arm. His three-fingered hand had curled into a fist. "Huh," he mumbled to himself. "I didn't know I could still do that."

The creak of a shifting staircase caught Lance's attention. One by one, rectangular segments formed in a diagonal line towards the third floor. He cocked his head to the side. The first-years had only just begun their session. No one should be coming up. Since no one was severely injured yet, no one should be descending either.

"It can't be," several nearby instructors gasped.

The first to ascend was a Demi, who bowed and joined the other servants.

He was followed by someone else, someone who's domineering presence sent a chill up Lance's spine. If most students felt like diamonds in the rough then the one ascending was like that of a honed, precise blade. Cerlius stepped foot in the Reach for the first time in a week. He looked up from the book in his hands and walked over to his instructor.

Lance didn't know much about Cerlius's past, only that he was a veteran by the name of Doevm. 'Are all the knights as resilient as he is? He looks normal!' Even with those thoughts flying through his head, Lance knew the situation was far from normal. Just sensing Cerlius's mana, Lance could tell he had experienced a frightening growth.

"How?" Lance asked, equal parts confused and overjoyed. "The healer said that it would take a month for you to recover. No matter how strong you are, that is too fast. And your mana..." Lance guessed that even the students could sense it, since they couldn't stop staring.

"I've always been different," Cerlius said with a shrug. He closed his book and tucked it under his arm. "This is just the only time my differences have helped me. Still..." He took a deep breath. "Trenton showed me that I'll also need people to help me if I want to progress."