Alan sighed as the wind made the pages of his tome flutter, the dead look on his face only slightly scrunching in anger before flipping back to his previous page. He was sitting atop the institute roof just above the headmistress’ office, “this is why I don’t like having to watch for the new ones....” he muttered flipping the weather-beaten page he was reading. He slid his fingers along the page for a long moment, though half lidded his eyes darted scanning over the entirely of the page. It was lined with red runes, various muscle names and much more. But he wasn’t able to get much further, as seven carriages formed out of thin air down the road; they had just entered the barrier.
“S’about time they showed up.” He hissed quietly then reached back from his rooftop perch slamming a stone-grey fist down on the flat, silver centre piece that separated the forest colored shingles, a minor crack forming where his fist landed. “They’re here air-head. Hurry up.”

Meanwhile inside Guennean sat at her desk, shuffling through a small stack of papers books cluttering most of it. They were all magic based in some way and she had probably read then a million times over. But she had to go over them one last time if she was going to teach any of it successfully. Or so she thought.
Then came the loud crashing sound from above and she was only really able to make out the “air head” comment. “Remind me to turn him into a newt later for that.” She grumped at a small blue bird that couldn’t be entirely put under any specific breed sitting atop a wooden perch on the far end of her desk. “Sweetie, go get Miss Deepstead and have her meet me out front of the school?” he cooed, petting the bird on the head that replied with a quiet tweet then fluttered off down the halls to search for her, soon landing on the doorknob of the classroom, pecking at the wood as if it were trying to knock.

Outside the school Alan then slid down the shingles of the roof, quietly landing on the ground quite a good distance below, his right shin fracturing with a loud snapping sound as he made contact with the grass. “Well that wasn’t entirely pleasant...” he said, fiddling with his now broken shin bone, simply cracking it back into place as a small spurt of smoke rose from where it had broken and with that he was able to push himself to his feet.
He was about to be on his was as Guennean came forth from a swirling violet portal that seemed to appear out of nothing on the side of the building “where are you going?” she inquired.
He waved a hand dismissively at her “Goin’ to the Gym while I still have it to myself for a while.” And with that the pitch black carriages halted before the school, each had a skeletal driver who was dressed in a Tux and short top-hat. Each one slid out of their seats behind their pair of white horses making their way to open the door and let the students out of their red, velvet confines.