[@Spirit][hr]Alexander had sunken deep into a pleasant dream. Though he still twisted and turned in his bed. Even this early in the morning. The reasons were obvious. Copious amounts of mead, ale, and wine. Another remnant of his earlier life. After every battle, soldiers would feast like there was no tomorrow. Because, for some, there hadn't been. When you faced death and survived, life gains a certain sweetness. Or so the soldiers said. How could Alexander know? He never really fought in a battle. But he and his brothers were drawn into it none the less.

So yesterday, with some of the older students who accepted him, Alexander laughed and drank and roared. He even wrestled, though he mostly lost. Still, everyone seemed to have had a jolly good time. Except that now, in the morning, Alexander wouldn't remember anything of it. Luckily his paper messenger was a bit more patient. It just kept pecking periodically. Even though there was no sign of him waking up, the bird patiently kept pecking. Until slowly he felt it and his eyes fluttered open. Immediately the headache took a hold. [color=7ea7d8]"Oh... hell."[/color] he muttered as he tried to sit upright. Though drunk Alexander seemed prepared. There was tankard filled with water next to the bed. With one eye half open and the other crusted shut, he looked at the bird. [color=7ea7d8]"Could you like... give me a second?"[/color] The bird seemed to grant his request and Alexander downed the tankard. It helped a little, but not enough. [color=7ea7d8]"Okay, what do you have for me?"[/color] The bird unfolded elegantly and Alexander picked up the paper.

His eyes scanned the paper and after passing the first teacher, his heart felt relieved for a second. A healing teacher would probably obligate him to learn to heal as well. It was an incredible tool to have in your army. But Alexanders handicap certainly made that impossible. Furthermore, a healing teacher would probably pick up on it rather quickly. And Alexander didn't want to get sent away for being an abomination. Of course, he didn't know if they actually did that. But it was better to be safe than sorry. His eyes went further. Then Master Taihlier came up. But no, he wasn't amongst going to study under the master of the destructive arts. At least not immediatly. But another name caught his attention. Kyvir. He would have to congratulate him. Further down was Grand Enchanter Rovi. Enchanter!? How did he miss it!? He would have to speak with Mr. Rovi as fast as he could. But his name wasn't there. So he would have to wait. So would he study under the last teacher?

Rune weaver? Mistress of the Moon? Professor of magical applications? Runes Master? Half the titles told him nothing. Yesterday he couldn't find anything about Rune Weaving. What did magical applications encompass? Mistress of the Moon, what did that even mean? Of course, Runes Master was obvious. Alas, his name was there. And then he read the final note. Suddenly realizing he had already been dozing for an hour, he quickly rolled out of his bed and got dressed. He nearly stormed out of his room but stood still in the doorway. His notes! Three minutes later he rushed out with his notebook under his arm. Within it, the early ideas he had and the desires.

In the hall of the teachers, he quickly found the right door and knocked on it three times. Then he took a small step back. Just to look polite. Which was the least he could do considering his messy hair and somewhat dirty robes.