Despite how tired he was, Zmerr could not fall asleep. Every time he closed his eyes, images of the green flames dancing in the night air would flit across his eyelids. He's quickly open them to make sure it was only his imagination and that the room was not on fire. Something like that is something not easily forgotten. 

He wondered how the fire was put out. He'd never seen Cadmus perform any sort of magic. He rarely saw the dragon. He always had something else to do to make sure things ran smoothly. 

After about an hour of lying in bed without a wink of sleep, Zmerr took a seat at his desk. The dark wood of the table was hidden by papers of various sizes each featuring a drawing or a series of written plans. Zmerr was trying to come up with an invention that would allow him to use magic. Or at least something CLOSE to magic. Ever since he had seen it for the first time, he had wished he was capable of using it. It was an art. Just like any art, it took a combination years of practice, precision beyond natural abilities, and raw talent. All of which Zmerr lacked.

He picked up a large piece of paper with a contraption that the user would wear on his hand. Sort of like a glove, except it had wires that ran from the fingertips to a tank the user wore on his back. In the tank was some sort of fuel to power the "glove." Unfortunately, Zmerr just couldn't get the element compound just right. Every time he tested the machine, it would backfire and fry itself. He had to start from scratch each time.

Zmerr chuckled to himself as he remembered the time that Sylph had come to pay a friendly visit between classes. He was testing the third version of the machine. He could have sworn he had the compound perfect. He realized that he was off when the thing exploded and covered his face in a thick layer of black soot. That was one of the few times he could remember hearing Sylph laugh. He hadn't thought it funny at the time, but now he could understand why she laughed. He decided the failure was worth it.

Another time, he was trying the fifth model near his stable. When it backfired, it made a loud crack like a gun. He'd terrified Soralon, the pony, and she ran. She'd somehow managed to jump the fence. It took Zmerr nearly all day to get her back. It took a week or so before she'd let him near her.

Zmerr stood up and hung the poster on the drawing board. He began to wonder if it was even possible to create synthetic magic. Everything made sense and lined up perfectly, and yet, every time, the machine would backfire. 

He kept pondering this until he realized it was morning already. His stomach growled. He was STARVING. He took one last look at the poster before grabbing his wallet and heading out the door. He made his way to the main cafeteria. Even though he wasn't a student, he still liked to eat with them. He liked to pretend he was a student.

He ordered his usual breakfast. The woman who served the food had to leave the kitchen to give him his food because he was too short to reach the counter. She gave it to him with a warm smile and a good morning greeting. Zmerr returned the courtesy with a slight bow of the head.

He went to his usual spot and climbed up into his usual seat. As he could pick up his fork, he began devouring the food.