Malcador awoke slowly, and then all at once. There was something off, something he could not quite grasp. He jerked out of bed, his heart skipping a beat as he realized the placement of the sun, which was almost as disturbing as there being a sun at all. He should have awoken at first light! He swiftly ran to the window, not caring he was as naked as the day he was born. He whipped the curtains open, and a quick glance at the glaring sun told him it was nearly 9 AM. 

There was a scream, and laughter, and Malcador looked down to see a small group of sorceresses pointing up at his naked form. He closed the curtain immediately. 

The astromancer was back in his own quarters. After his tryst with Emmaline the previous night, she had kicked him out so Albrecht wouldn't come down in the early morning and see the two of them wrapped around one another like wrestling snakes. She had given him a lingering kiss with her sheets wrapped around her when he made it to the door, promising more soon, and he went home in the dark with naught but his trousers and boots on, the rest of his clothing and effects clustered in his arms. He was so exhausted he stripped his pants off again and fell onto his bed, damning the consequences of the day. Thinking about sharing a bed with Emmaline had made it all worth it. 

But now he had twenty minutes to make it to the Chaple of Sigmar before the next service began. 

Usually he was meticulous about his appearance, but he took no time in brushing his hair or adjusting his clothing. He donned his most basic acolyte attire and ran out of the tower before Master Belmond could inquire upon yesterday's activities with any penetrating questions. Members of the Celestial Order were expected to be loyal and unquestioning to their masters, even beyond other students of other schools. Any false move and at best he could be sent to clean the gutters in the perilously high alcoves of their cyclopean tower. At worst, students have been expelled for any considering to disobey a question by their specific master. 

Malcador made it to the bottom of the stairs of their apartments, one of the many slimmer buildings of living connected to the main tower of Astromancy. Even in the wan sun, the Astroglobe at the top of the tower was the largest in the entirety of the world, and it glinted brightly. 

"Oh Malcador!" A girlish voice called from the apartments next door. The debonair acolyte turned. His studious air was gone, replaced by apprehension. He recognized the voice. Posing out of the window three floors up like a mermaid out of water, Jessibel the Azure looked down at him with a smirk. She was a bit older than an acolyte should be, much like Emmaline, but her hair was dark and it was likely by choice. The woman did not wish to return the estates she would be bidden to once she graduated. 

"I haven't the time!" Malcador called up to her. 

She only laughed. "There was a point a year ago you would given anything to speak to me. Could you have a new item of interest? Is that why you came back last night half naked?" 

"I came back because I was out drinking." He said as he turned away, knowing the story was a weak one. He couldn't let Jessibel find out about Emmaline, or the entirety of the colleges would know it by the end of the day. 

"That better be a lie, or we'll have more than words for you." Another voice remarked. Malcador was struck white like a ghost when Gunter, Heinrich, and Grigor stepped out of the crowd. The three young acolytes looked pissed in a way only a young man who had not gotten laid could be. 

"Compatriots, I have to go!" Malcador remarked, holding his hands up. "If I don't make this errand I'll be strung up by the balls!" 

"That's a start." Grigor remarked dryly. 

"Where in the wastes were you, Zauberhaft?" Gunter asked acidly, eye twitching from an illicet substance, likely opium from Cathay. "We waited for two hours, and then did our best to scavenge during the night. They were expecting us as a group! We weren't even allowed in the Gong and Tackle!" 

It was an exquisite venue you had to make reservations for. Anything amiss and they would grant it to someone more trustworthy. The girls in there were supposed to be beyond beautiful. Malcador doubted they were as tasty as Emmaline's bosom or rump, but he could imagine it was disappointing to his mates. Plus, and they would never admit this, Malcador was the smooth one. He could get women to join all of them, and without him, they were three intelligent but less than charming individuals. 

"Look, it's only the second day of the week. I'll be able to make it up to you, but as of now I have to go!" 

Malcador began to run, and he heard their cries follow him across the courtyard as Jessibel cackled.