The groans of around one hundred children echoed through the room, mingling with many a distressed, “What?” The voices of Kia and her friends rose with the others. Yet, a grin still threatened to pull at the young elf’s lips. She only hoped no one would come forward, what with the punishment already declared. After all, she had noticed a few others not originally in on the plan joining in the fun. To turn Kia and her friends in now meant placing blame on nearly a quarter of the other magic users.
	“Well, you heard them!” A male dwarf, splatters of food in his uncharacteristically thin beard, shouted. His gruff voice carried above the protests. “Get to your training lessons, then report back here the moment you’re done with massage therapy!”
	Thayva looked to her husband when he addressed her.
	“That was perfect, hon.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned slightly into him. She watched as the other staff began to usher the orphans out of the dining hall. She huffed at Serapis’ question. “I [i]hope[/i] not. But he [i]is[/i] your son.” She grinned, then sighed. “The three of us will have to have a bit of a chat this evening.” Her eyes locked on their son as she picked him out of the crowd as only a mother can. “Find out if he, at the very least, saw anything important.”