The Wand of Illusions was a game changer. With an object capable of faking most magic to at least B+ level quality, there was no more late-night scheming or desperate improvisation on how to fake having magic; finally I could fully immerse myself in my studies.

I spent countless hours in the library, pouring over every book I could find, each page a new adventure into the depths of magical knowledge beyond the Owen Thorn books and movies. It was better than all the fanfiction in the world—because it was all literally cannon! I flipped through volumes bound in leather and cloth, asked question after question in class, and showed up to every professors’ office hours, absorbing every scrap of information I could. 

Each Friday, weekly leaderboards were posted displaying the marks of all students. Lucian always topped the charts in Alchemy. Owen, with his insane level of natural talent, was unsurprisingly number one in Telekinetics. But when it came to non-magic related studies, I soared to the top. Magical History, Magical Economics, and my personal favorite—Magical Animal Studies—has my name proudly displayed at the head of the leaderboards.

Magical Animal Studies was the class I currently found myself in, the morning light streaming through the arched windows, casting a soft glow over the polished mahogany desks. The scent of parchment filled the air as I scribbled furiously, my fingers stained with ink.

The satyr instructor, Professor Tibbs, was quite a sight. The scars across her nose and arms were the very definition of ‘environmental storytelling’ when it came to her past encounters with magical beasts, her eyepatch adding a rugged air to her otherwise jolly demeanor. Despite the fact that it was 8:00 AM, she was so bright-eyed and alert I wondered if she’d just downed five cups of coffee before class. 

“Now, before we get any further into today’s lessons, I want to announce your coming practical exam.” Her hooves clacked against the stone floor as she bounced between our desks. “This will be worth ten percent of your final grade.”

A collective groan echoed through the classroom. Except from me, of course, who only scooted closer with my notebook at the ready to take notes. 

“Come now, quit complaining,” Professor Tibble chirped over the whining and muttering that overtook the room. “It’s only early October and this isn’t due until the end of November. Your assignment will be to create a project based on the anatomy and biology of mermaids. I’ll be handing out a grading key at the end of class.”

Most of the class continued to groan. Except for Lucian, who (suspiciously) suddenly seemed to share my enthusiasm. He perked up in his chair, eyes shining with an intensity that made me arch a brow.

“I’m guessing you already have an idea for what you want to do?” I asked. 

“This is the perfect opportunity to finally test out a hypothesis I’ve been conceptualizing for a while now…” Lucian said, his words making me even more suspicious. “The only snag is that the item I would need for it is extremely hard to come by—”

He was cut off as Professor Tibbs cleared her throat. “Now,” she said, “let us begin today's lesson.” She made her way down the row of desks, plopping small cages between every other student. “Inside these cages are nimnims, transported all the way from the deepest jungles of Southern Mageteria.”

“Nimnims!” I said. “That sounds cute.”

Lucian and I leaned in, trying to get a better look at whatever was inside the cage. When we actually saw what was contained within, Lucian’s face paled and he immediately jerked back. I had the opposite reaction, a grin spreading from ear to ear. 

The nimnim looked like a giant spider, its body covered in soft, light brown fur. Its eight legs were dusted with the same downy fuzz, making it appear as fluffy as a stuffed animal. But the most striking feature was its head—it looked like a teddy bear, with large, round black eyes that blinked up at us with innocent curiosity. 

“Aww,” I cooed, unable to resist the urge to get closer.

I opened the cage and reached inside, my fingers brushing against the nimnim’s fur. It was even fluffier than it looked, the softness sinking into my skin like wool. Carefully, I lifted it out, cradling it in my hands.

“Totally adorable, right?” I said, my grin widening as I turned to hold it toward Lucian. 

Lucian scrambled back until he nearly toppled out of his seat. “Return that thing to its cage and wipe that goofy smile off your face. You look completely idiotic.”

“Why are you acting so freaked out?” I snickered. “Are you scared of spiders?”

“No,” Lucian snapped. “Of course not!”

“Then hold it.” I lifted the nimnim a little higher, letting its furry legs dangle in the air between us. “I dare you.”

“Absolutely not,” Lucian retorted.

I stroked the nimnim’s soft fur, and it responded with a low, content purr. Lucian’s eyes flicked nervously between the creature and me, his expression tightening.

“C’mon,” I said as the nimnim nuzzled its teddy bear-like face into my hand. “If you’re really not scared, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Lucian swallowed hard. “Okay,” he muttered, “fine.”

Luican reluctantly reached out to take it. The nimnim’s big black eyes bore into him as I handed it over. The moment Lucian’s fingers brushed the creature, the nimnim let out a shrill, chittering sound and jumped. 

That’s when Lucian’s grip faltered and the nimnim tumbled from his hands.

The moment it hit the ground, the nimnim released a burst of pink goo directly into our faces. The ink was warm, sticky, and smelled faintly of raspberries. We both shrieked as the substance dripped down our noses.

In an instant, the classroom erupted into chaos. The nimnim scurried across the floor, dodging feet and causing more students to scream and leap onto their desks. 

It scuttled up a girl named Susan Nubs’ leg, who flailed her arms, sending her books flying. The nimnim retaliated with another spray of pink ink, covering Susan and the two girls behind her from head to toe. Their hair and faces were splattered with the gooey substance, the trio looking like they’d just been dunked in a vat of melted candy as they let out a chorus of blood-curdling wails. 

“OH MY GOD!” Susan screeched, her voice reaching an octave I didn’t know was humanly possible. “IS IT POISONOUS?! ARE WE ALL GOING TO DIE?”

This brought an even greater surge of screams and panic. The pandemonium in the classroom reached a fever pitch as the nimnim scampered from desk to desk, leaving a path of pink drenched students in its wake. 

Always the dashing hero, Owen sprung forward, snatching the empty cage from our desk. Holding it firmly with both hands, he swerved and twisted through the flailing students, racing after the creature like some sort of nimnim tamer. I made a mental note to ask the professor after class if that was a thing or not. 

Susan and her friends, still plastered in pink ink, were sobbing hysterically, their voices rising as Owen raced past. “We’re gonna die! We’re gonna die!”

Owen’s pursuit was relentless, charging straight at the nimnim with the cage wide open. He reached out, about to scoop the creature into it. That’s when Lucian stuck out his leg. Owen tripped over it, crashing face-first into the floor as the nimnim scurried away. 

“Why the hell did you do that?” I hissed. 

Lucian shrugged. “I'd rather die than let him win.”

I buried my face in my hands. “Your priorities are truly astounding.” 

However, Lucian’s petty victory was rather short lived when the nimnim raced back toward us. We screeched again. In a flurry of panic, we scrambled onto the desk, our feet knocking over inkpots and scattering papers into the air as we clutched each other. 

Amidst the pandemonium, Madame Tibble let out a heavy sigh. She grabbed the cage from Owen's grasp and expertly dropped a sugar cube between the bars. The nimnim’s tiny nose twitched at the scent. Then it spun around and scurried inside. Its mouth opened wide, happily chomping down on the sugary treat as Tibble locked the cage shut.

The professor placed the cage on her desk with a thud that silenced the entire room.

The classroom looked like a warzone. Loose papers fluttered to the floor, everyone was smeared with goo, splotches of pink were splattered across the walls. The sticky substance clung to skin and clothing alike, strands of it dangling from desks and dripping slowly to the ground.

Professor Tibbs gave Lucian and me a glare so cold it felt like it could freeze fire itself. “Well, it seems Mister Price and Mister Darkona have taught us all two important lessons today. The first being to never, under any circumstances, open the cage of a wild animal in a classroom setting.”

Lucian and I exchanged a glance, grimacing as we awkwardly pulled apart and scrambled down from the desk.

“The second lesson,” Professor Tibbs continued, her voice stern as she made her way to Susan, “is the nimnim’s defensive technique when it feels threatened.”

She leaned forward, peeling off a chunk of ink from Susan’s hair, the pink substance already starting to harden into a gum-like consistency between her fingers. 

“When the nimnim gets scared,” Professor Tibbs explained, holding up the clump, “it sprays its attacker. As you can now see, as time passes, the ink quickly turns into a dense, tacky substance and becomes extremely sticky. So sticky, in fact, that in about eight hours, it will be strong enough to hold just about anything together.”

Susan gasped. “Oh no!”

“Don’t worry, Miss Nubs. You will not be receiving a permanent nimnim facelift. There is a spell to loosen it.” Professor Tibble removed her wand and cast a small circle over Susan’s head. “Lo͞osən.”

Almost immediately, the gooey pink subrance returned to its ink-like consistency, dripping down Susan’s face. Professor Tibble cast this same spell over me, Lucian, and the others.

“Now,” Professor Tibbs said, “you all better clean up before it begins to harden again.”

I nudged Lucian with my elbow. “That’s what she said.”

“Now is not the time,” Lucian muttered.