Time slowed as the box went, toppling over with such grace that it might as well have leap from the desk on its own. 

It was like watching a shipwreck; Nemo couldn’t look away. He could only fumble to reach it, but his fingers always seemed to be a hair too high to grasp it. In his efforts, he blocked Tilo from a clear view of the current events.

‘What’ and ‘is’ were the only words that managed to escape Tilo’s mouth as the box hit the floor, shattering in ways impossible for wood. It seemed to let out a raspy wail as it broke, the dying cry of a delicate object. 

Nemo’s hands immediately went to his head. “I knew this would happen,” he could only mutter. But, in spite of his immediate problems, he was calm, bending down to collect the pieces as best as he could. Things broken could be fixed, though maybe not exactly as they were before. With a family as big as his, he had learned that quickly.

Tilo, on the other hand - perhaps out of a moment of sheer guilt - had collapsed, making for the second time they had been unconscious in Nemo’s presence.

The door creaked open, a student with dark freckles peering into the room. “Excuse me, is Professor Krylin-”

Nemo looked up, caught red handed. Though he had no intention of hiding his accident, he had been deprived of his choice to do so. The best course of action would be to take advantage of the newcomer’s bafflement.

“She’s in a meeting with another student right now. Could you fetch her, please?” 

The student nodded emphatically, rushing off without a second thought. Nemo could only have trust that they knew where Krylin could be.

Nemo looked back at the mess, eyes glossing over every shattered piece. One caught his attention and he lifted it, turning it over. Perfectly untouched was the carved image. He set it in his lap, looking back towards the other pieces and then over to the unconscious Tilo. Hopefully this wasn’t a sign of things to come. 

“What am I supposed to do now?”

… 

The door to the office hurled open, the thud cascading around the hall outside. It seemed not a single student nor professor attending the academy would be unaware of the chaos that was currently unfolding in Krylin’s office. By this time, the shards had all been collected and Tilo’s consciousness had been regained. 

Without pause, the professor marched to her desk, sitting down unceremoniously behind it.

“Who broke it?” She peered down at them from above her spectacles. Perhaps because of their silence, she added one more phrase as an afterthought. “I’m not angry, it would just be better for the both of you if I knew.”

Tilo spoked up first. “I broke the box. I’m sorry. To make up for it, I can pay for the repairs and have it re-enchanted.” The words themselves were convincing, but the monotonous tone he spoke in was anything but.

“What? But I-” Tilo nudged Nemo, prompting him to stop and control his emotions. Nemo, a possessor of poor improv acting skills, was unable to do anything that could sell Tilo’s poor lie. He made at least twenty faces in the span of one second, trying to settle on one that fit Tilo’s nonverbal request. If anything, he was an even greater detriment. They were undeniably two peas in a pod.

“What exactly happened?”

Nemo stepped in, relaying the entire story. In accordance with Tilo’s direction, he altered the roles that had been played. Though his acting was depraved, his lying skills were irrevocably believable. He spun a story so captivating he almost convinced himself that it had happened.

Professor Krylin removed her glasses, rubbing at her eyes. “Okay. Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. Tilo, you’re going to hand me the compass.”

“The compass?” 

“Yes, the compass. I’m going to enchant it as our previous deal established I would. You delivered unharmed. That deserves some merit. However, because you broke the item I wanted in exchange when it got here, you’ll have to pay for it.”

Tilo set the compass on the desk before Krylin. She pulled it towards her, sliding it into a pocket on her cloak. As he slid it towards her, he spoke.

“I said I would pay for it-”

“Yes, but that’s not the issue. The issue is that you broke something and the consequences as they are aren't enough to stop you from ensuring it doesn’t happen again. I know you Tilo. And I know as well as you that money is no object. A lesson is a better punishment.”

Tilo and Nemo exchanged glances.

“What are you suggesting?” Tilo responded.

“You teach my class for a week.”

“Excuse me? Isn’t that- that’s not- why?”

Krylin returned her glasses to her face. “I’m supposed to work on a project this week and I need someone to teach the kids.”

Tilo’s mouth was agape. “In exchange for breaking a priceless artifact? Isn’t this a bit, I don’t know… absurd?”

“You and I both know I’ve been asking you to try your hand at teaching for a while, but every time you ruthlessly reject me. This was going to be the last time I asked, and, luckily, this is a perfect opportunity to force you to do this.”

“I rejected you because I thought it would be detrimental to the kids. I don’t think there’s a single person on staff who would allow me to teach,” Tilo retorted.

“Of course not. But I have the authority to make them agree.” She sighed. “As for the kids, I don’t think it will be particularly detrimental. You’ll only teach one class worth of some of my best students. You won’t be doing anything in my normal lecture hall.”

“... you really did plan for me to teach, didn’t you.”

“Think of it as one final lesson from me, though the gods know that it won’t really be the last. Besides, there’s something to be said about the way you work that I think the kids need. They’ve grown into heads on sticks and I think they need to think a bit more for themselves.”

Nemo gave an awkward wave. “How do I factor into this? Should I just… go?”

“Every professor needs a teaching assistant, I should think. Don’t think you’re going to get out of this so easily.” 

She narrowed her eyes, burrowing them into Nemo’s. He shrank. Both boys got the feeling that she had seen through their “clever” ruse.

“I’d be wary in believing that I’m a fool who can’t see their own hand before their face.”

Nemo raised both hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare consider that.”

Professor Krylin made eye contact with Tilo. Her entire countenance had changed; throughout this short exchange it had been one of mild disappointment with hints of anger. Now, her angular features were chiseled into an expression of compassion. 

“I have more faith in you, Tilo, than you think I do. One broken artifact, no matter who broke it, isn’t enough for me to lose that faith in you.”

Her final sentence stuck with Nemo, a sense of foreboding like a small throb building in his heart. 

Worst of all, he couldn’t imagine why it would make him feel that way.