“I underestimated how long she could have been planning this. That scheming, dastardly, son of a-,” Tilo had groaned the first preparation day. Being back at Stonehall seemed to have drummed up an old, long forgotten grudge.

Indeed, there wasn’t anything that told him that Professor Krylin had done anything less than plan this entire punishment, even if it wasn’t originally intended to be a punishment. He was beginning to suspect that even the box being knocked over was her plan, too, though that was just the grudge speaking. While Professor Krylin couldn’t account for everything - i.e. Nemo- she had gone through great lengths to ensure that he would be able to instruct in her place without any fear of havoc erupting. 

She provided Tilo with textbooks full of what she had been planning on teaching for the week, gave both Tilo and Nemo a room to stay, as well as forced a uniform (of sorts) upon the both of them. Tilo received one of the professor's cloaks, while Nemo was only told to ‘dress neatly and warmly.’ Krylin had glared at Tilo so icily when she addressed his attire that from that moment onward, both Tilo and Nemo became increasingly aware of how cold it was in the mountains. 

It was no surprise to Tilo that she chose the one lesson that he actually remembered. The only issue Tilo had with it all was how lacking the lesson plans actually were. He’d received a list for every day with bulleted concepts he was supposed to explain. That was it. He immediately went to Krylin, who simply explained that she wanted to give him enough freedom to teach in a manner he felt was most suited to the class. He had scowled, but there was nothing he could do. Even if he had grown older, she was once his teacher, and he still had respect for her.

They had two days to ‘prepare,’ as Krylin had put it. And so it was that both Tilo and Nemo spent those two days learning and relearning the course section, ‘Combative Artifacts and Their Historical Usage.’

When the day finally arrived for class to begin, the pair were beyond burnt out and had had little time for friendly conversation. Both silently eyed each other down outside the classroom door, debating on whether or not they should enter.  

At last, the silence was broken. “Opening the doors on three. One-”
“Three!” Tilo pushed the door open.

All eyes fell on him, a tidal wave of quiet washing over them. Not a single student was speaking. For all the movement they made, they might have been statues rather than teenagers.

The classroom itself was simple; a podium for the teacher, sat square in the center of a small raised platform, and three layered areas with seating, each row higher than the last. Tilo could only note that it was not unlike a mini lecture hall.

Tilo cleared his throat. 

“I am Tilo. Not Professor Tilo, nor Mr. Tilo, nor sir. Just Tilo will do. As you may or may not be aware, Professor Krylin is out for, ah, various reasons. I will be teaching you in her stead for a week. She said that you were all made aware of the course of study we will be going through. Can I get a nod if that’s right?”

One of the students in the first row obliged, nodding.

He gestured to Nemo, who was now by his side and standing straighter than a plank. “This is Nemo, he will be acting as an assistant of sorts. Assistant, is that what we’re going with? That’s what Professor Krylin said, but I don’t know-” Nemo gave a nod. “Assistant it is,” Tilo continued

Silence.

“Can I get a quick introduction from every student?”

The class size was extraordinarily small. A mere six students filled the classroom and with the lack of noise that pervaded the class, the room felt more expansive than it was. Tilo was a little put off by the size, knowing that when he attended the academy, Professor Krylin’s classes were known to be very popular. 

If he was going to make this more bearable, a little bit of familiarization would help. He had turned to Nemo for advice with handling the students when he’d first received the attendance list during the first day of preparation. Nemo, having seven siblings, had quickly prepared a list of ten things Tilo needed to do to manage anyone younger than he. Number one was ‘humanization: put a name to a face.’ When he had first received it, Tilo had scoffed at the list before feeling instant regret. Nemo had spent a lot of his free time working on it.

Tilo’s current plan was to scan around the classroom, asking every student to provide their name, as well as a question they wanted answered this week. (Number two - fascination: get them interested in something.)

“I’ll begin. I’m Tilo, and I would like to know how this school has changed since I attended here. Front row, furthermost left.”

“Hello, I’m Silos Lastaschia. I’m mostly curious about the relation between artifacts and other magic wielding mediums.”

Tilo pointed to the next seat in the row. “I’m Neal Helbin Petorsi.” Nemo recognized him as the student who had asked for Krylin. “I’d like to understand why combat magic has evolved so little over the course of the last few centuries.”

Then came the third seat in the row. “I’m Mila Romchal. I guess I’d like to know a bit more about agricultural based artifacts, but I don’t have any specific questions.”

“My name is Chisi Mongyu. Most of my questions regard what’s being covered by this week’s course, so I’m hoping they’ll be answered by the end of this week.”

“Amwren Combra Dotrial. I go by Wren. I’m curious about the use of magic in transportation by the people of the past. Was there anything like the skyships we have today?”

Then, finally, the last student’s turn.

“Rayden Islas Adomentra. My question is whether or not you are qualified to teach us. Because as far as I know, you are nobody of worth.”

Nemo tapped on Tilo’s shoulder. “Can we talk for a minute.”

The substitute professor turned to the class, then back to his assistant.

“Yes. Is something wrong?” He spoke in hushed tones.

Nemo leaned in closer, turned away from the class so they wouldn’t couldn’t pick up his voice. “I know this is a terrible time to bring this up, but I was lying when I said I wasn’t pickpocketed.”

 “Well, it’s a bit late for that.”

Nemo glared.

“I only mention it because I recognize the kid who stole something from me.”

“Rayden?”

Nemo pulled his face away. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t know until just now, but I had my suspicions. The only reason I didn’t bring it up is because you said you weren’t pickpocketed.”

“You knew and didn’t do anything about it?”

“I thought you wouldn’t want me to. You were evasive.”

“That’s because I thought it would trouble you.” Nemo’s voice grew louder and he threw his hand over his mouth.

He uncovered his mouth. “When we get a free moment, we can talk. Now’s not a good time for this.”

“Alright. It’s decided. I’m going to finish class and do something about this pickpocket. Is it enchanted or had a spell cast on it? Whatever was stolen?”

“Just with a waterproofing enchantment.” 

“That’s good enough for confirmation.”

“What does that mean?” 

Tilo’s voice returned to it’s usual resounding level. “Rayden, I think I can provide an answer to that question of yours right now.” He strode across the room on his platform, making his way over so that he could stand face to face with the young boy.

“Now, before I start, is there anything you’re willing to share about yourself? A hobby that you find particularly compelling, perhaps? Or maybe the contents of the wallet currently burning a hole in your pocket?”

A chill ran up Nemo’s back. 

Something about Tilo’s tone had changed. 

No. Not just his tone.

The red headed boy’s face remained stone cold.

Tilo raised an eyebrow. 

“No? Okay, then I’ll begin.”