Questions, answers and observations arose in Aoife’s mind in regard to the fleeing second-years.

It started as a simple curiosity at the back of the investigator’s mind. Mental inquiries and musing nagged at her, pulling themselves into a rush until they shot to the front of her mind much in the same fashion as the boys rapidly closing in on her. Aoife stopped walking and took a closer look at the approaching students.

The boys were fleeing fast; that much was obvious. The second years were looking back, they appeared to be afraid of [i]something[/i], and they were heading toward the direction of the Hall of Healers. Hauling themselves through the hall as fast as their legs could take them, their legs were probably burning from the sudden exertions. Something that could terrify a bunch of typically brazen teens— that roused some alarms.

[i]Well, at least as long as the reasons for their flight weren’t being completely exaggerated[/i].

By the point where she had decided it may be a great idea to attempt to stop the boys and ask them what was going on, they were past the distance where stopping them with magic would incur a bit too much force from the abrupt loss of momentum, and trying to stop them by shouting would have little result. Aoife let out a deep breath as she made a mental note to ask the boys about this later, and began to make her way down the hall once more, even cracking a smile at their yelps as they ran. Maybe she’d get a hint of what got the boys running up ahead.

Aoife made it all of six steps forward before she heard the sound of flesh colliding behind her followed by a sudden [i]and highly unnatural[/i] gust of wind.

The gale’s intensity was greatly reduced by the point it had reached Aoife, managing only to rustle her hair and cloak and push her hood forward some; even the metal bits of her clothing barely moved in response. It was, however, quite loud. Not to mention the concern that came from the sounds of multiple bodies smacking the brick panelling at the sides of the hall corridor. For the second time, the red-haired Magestrava stopped her stroll, this time making an about-face.

She turned in time to be greeted by the sight of one Danny Finks holding out a cup of dark liquid in offering, “Morning Aoife, need a cup of coffee?”

[i]You just find it a hassle to carry two cups, don’t you?[/i] Aoife’s lips creeped upward unnoticeably in response. She took the cup of coffee gracefully, outwardly displaying a gentle smile to contrast Danny’s nonchalance, “Danny Finks, good morning. Coffee is always a welcome stimulant, so thanks for this.“

A cloud moved overhead beyond the roof of the hallway, obscuring the morning sun and starving the hallway of much of its natural lighting. Aoife took a sip of her bitter beverage and took a glance behind the scarf-clad boy to bear witness to what looked like several second-years lying around, and one person walking—more like shambling—away from it all.

"Do you by any chance know why our dear second years seem as if they just saw Oggie when he's ticked off?" Danny cocked his head to the side.

“I was in the process of investigating just that,” even under the current dim state of lighting, the curious gaze from Aoife’s green eyes could be seen clearly as she looked far down the hall, “Somehow, I doubt it has anything to do with Mr. Arazm, though. It takes far too much to irritate that teacher.”

Aoife cupped her chin with her free hand and continued to look past Danny.

“Speaking of which... Pardon me,” she took another sip of the coffee, savoring its bitter glory. The passing cloud absconded its hold over the sun and brightness was brought to the hallway once again. Aoife gave her conversational partner a nod and stepped aside, making her way to the scene of the magical gale with haste. She was deceptively fast in her approach, reaching the boys and the culprit of their current situation before the robed man could get some scant steps away.

Any onlookers didn’t appear as if they would be doing anything, as they only whispered to one another. It appeared bystander syndrome was in full effect.

For Aoife though, investigator mode was on. The boys were already recovering from their wingless flight into the hallway walls. A pair that had already stood up was in the process of helping the others orient themselves. Aoife sorted out her priorities; technically, what had just happened counted as the offensive use of magic, something that was all too obvious in its illegality outside of sanctioned duels.

In short, whatever made the boys run would be put on the backburner in light of the [i]crime[/i] that she just witnessed. After all, that was the type of investigator she was trying to be.

“[b][i]Hold on[/i][/b].”

Aoife was stern in tone, calling for the shambling student to stop. Despite her intent, she was not a guard, so she had the same restrictions on combative magic as any other student. Though it would in the first place be best to resolve this without any action at all, so Aoife shifted forward, flanked her target and stood in front of him. Careful to maintain a short enough distance that they wouldn’t bump into each other, she backstepped in coordination with him.

“Adam?” she tilted her head inquisitively, now recognizing her fellow senior and calling out his name, “Hey, what happened back here?”

It appeared that he was in some pain and distress, Aoife stalked forward to be in a closer proximity to the raven-haired student. She took in the details of his appearance, keenly sorting through the information that she observed within the span of a second. Dried blood from his nose non-indicative of any outward physical harm. Bloodshot eyes and a downturned gaze hinting at light sensitivity. Severe migraine? Shambling walk, loose arm movement that didn’t balance his gait properly, and the appearance of muscle fatigue. Topping it off, there were burns. The lack of labored breaths or defensive wounds indicated that he hadn’t been in a fight.

[i]Spell backlash?[/i]

In the world of Magestrava, and especially to Aoife, there was little that could be feared more than the backlash from a spell. The investigator's priorities changed once again. The crime that left no one injured can be damned, Adam was injured.

“[b][i]Adam. Stop.[/i][/b]” Aoife narrowed her eyes and spoke in a commanding tone, ceasing her backwards movement and hoping Adam would hear her and reciprocate, “You’re heading in the right direction, but let me help you to the Hall of Healers. It’s not a good idea to be going alone when suffering from a spell backlash.”