“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Amy, the teaching assistant for “Magic 102: Introduction to Elemental Theory”, stood in the doorway of Klaus’s faculty quarters as he tripped about the room, stuffing various belongings into a travelling bag. 

“Yes. Have you seen my spectacles?”

“In the sock pile.”

“Of course.” Klaus picked them up, wiped at the lenses, and put them on. He blinked owlishly at Amy. “Why are you still here?” 

Amy sighed. “I just- well, I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for you to travel alone.” 

“Why not?”

“Oh, come on, Professor Banning.” 

In many ways, Amy was Klaus’s caretaker as well as teaching assistant. She extinguished his wardrobe when he set it on fire, led him patiently back to his quarters when he got lost sleepwalking, and gently coaxed him down from rooftops whenever he got the urge to walk the railing. 

(The faculty at Ironwood had drawn straws for that task. Amy lost.)

Klaus was not ungrateful. He was well aware of Amy’s utility and personal sacrifice. This, however, was not a conversation he wanted to be having.

“Don’t you have papers to grade?” 

Amy heaved a sigh. “Professor Banning, nobody wrote their final papers. You failed them all mid-semester.”

This was news to Klaus. “Did I”

“You said none of them had a healthy respect for, uh, chaos theory.”

Klaus stiffened. “No, they did not. Good riddance. Kids these days, Amy, I swear. Where’s my butt plug?”

“Your [i]what?[/i] No- you know what, never mind. Professor, I really don’t think-”

“That concerns me, Amy. You’re a degree candidate. That requires thought.” 

“You’re not even allowed in the capitol!” Amy spread her hands in exasperation. 

Klaus lifted a finger. “I’m not allowed on university grounds. The city itself is fine. I checked the laws.” 

“See, the fact that you’ve done something- something so egregiously awful that the country’s best university won’t let you step foot on campus-”

“No, Amy, I will not tell you what happened at Highmont. Stop asking.” Klaus 

“I wasn’t-” Amy was visibly struggling for words. “Sir, you’ve been perfectly happy in your lab the last few years. I just don’t understand why you think you have to go.”

Klaus paused. Amy watched him expectantly; eyes wide, questioning, innocent. 

She hadn’t seen what he’d seen. She hadn’t heard the echoing roar; she hadn’t seen the flames and carnage, the horrifying vision of things to come. 

He’d thought it was happening again. He’d thought it was just like five years ago at Highmont, when they found him shrieking in his lab. 

But no- the King had seen it, and others had seen it, which meant that Klaus was not going mad.

Or maybe they were all going mad. 

“No,” he told Amy, “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

~

“Please stop poking me.” The gatekeeper was visibly annoyed. 

“I’m not poking you.” Klaus poked the gatekeeper. “[i]Wow.[/i] What an art. You can see my past? You can see [i]everything[/i]?”

“Professor Banning, you are holding up the line.”

Klaus glanced perfunctorily at those waiting behind him. “How much detail? Does it intesify when I touch you?” he demanded. 

“Sir-”

“Why haven’t I met you? Were you at the university? I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve- you have to let me study you, this is incredible-”

“[i]Sir, either get in the castle or get out of line.[/i]”

Klaus tripped hastily through the gate. 

His self-directed tour of the grounds was sadly cut short by the aggressively polite wait staff, who directed him to a large dining hall. He strode in just as Elden and Riya introduced themselves to each other, and slid into the chair next to Riya. 

“Klaus,” he added by way of introduction, “although I’m sure I’ll be repeating that throughout the evening. We should just assign ourselves numbers. I do that to my students. Makes everyone’s lives easier.” 

He surveyed the table with glee. “Sprouts!” he said, pleased. “Helps you pass stool. The King’s a wise, wise man.”