"Welcome to your first Yesteryear class," Professor Marden said from the small plateau at the front of the lecture room, a clockwork watch hung on a necklace around his neck, matching the bronze glasses perfectly. Has to be a Time user. There were twenty of them kids, filling all the tall wooden stools around the large round tables. It was a mile away from the marble tables of the Magic Hall, which was just as large, if not larger, than the entrance hall. Sitting out sucked.

  "While it is true that Heroes need to have a strong grasp on magic, knowing who and what came before is just as important. Being able to kill Villains is useless if you can't prevent past events from happening again," He continued, walking in circles on the plateau, slowly stopping before the twenty-foot tall map of the Kingdom. "You have no purpose on the frontlines if you don't know how to tell one type of attack from the other, or what magic type an enemy is using." The great sword hung on the wall glimmered in the light of the white orbs.

  "When are we going to get to the interesting part?" Whispered Art, kicking his legs about.

  "You mean combat?" Night muttered back. "That's tomorrow. But I'm get my ass beaten there. At least this is pretty eas-"

  Someone stamped their foot down. "You boys at the back, are you paying attention?" The Professor shrewd his eyes in their direction, twirling his strange stick in his fingers.

  "Yes, sir." Night coughed.

  Professor Marden turned back around. "Well, let's get to the basics. Who of you here has heard of the Light-Elementalist War?"

  About five hands went up, Night's included.

  "...Not a lot of you, I see." He took his time, glancing at every student who didn't raise their hand. "Who knows how the war started?"

  One hand. Shit.

  "Void- Night, would you like to have a go?" Professor Marden tilted his head.

  Night shot a look around before coughing again. These kids are dumber than I thought. "Yes, the Kingdom of Light's economy was struggling at the time, and they felt that they had a claim on land which was occupied by the Elementalist Coalition. After the latter party disagreed, the Kingdom marched a army-"

  "Incorrect." Professor Marden looked to a different part of the class. "Anyone else?"

  Someone else rose their hand. Chalice.

  She glared at Night the entire time she was speaking. "The Elementalist Coalition attacked a Kingdom Outpost near the outskirts of land, with no apparent reason. The Kingdom retaliated and war broke out." She smirked at him.

  Professor Marden nodded his head. "Very good, Chalice." He turned back to the map. "Seeing that most of you don't know..."

  "What...?" Night hissed. "What the actual heck? That is not right!"

  "...But-" Art glanced around, before hissing back. "The teacher literally said it was!"

  "No apparent reason my ass." Night shook his head. "All the books I've read say the same thing. The Kingdom attacked first."

  "How many books have you... Read?" Art paused as their teacher's gaze skirted over them. "I think-"

  "More than enough." Night replied.

  "...And it was only an alliance made with the Time users to the East that enabled us to force the Elementalists to capitulate." Professor Marden went to the board and pulled her hands apart, summoning more orbs of light to illuminate the map. "But that's irrelevant. That question was just to get a grasp of your current understanding." His gaze swept around the room, before resting on Night, before it shifted again. "Let's look at something more important." He swished his stick in the air, as if he was drawing a picture.

  A few murmurs swept through the class as the map's ink seemed to swim, before resting in a new configuration.

  Art's eyes lighted up a little. "So he's a Ink user?"

  "No, there's a Ink-type manipulator at the bottom of the map." Night pointed to the bottom. "See?"

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  Night knew living things weren't the only beings that could be imbued with magic. A few years ago, artificers figured out how to channel different magic types in specialised devices.

  "Moving on." Their teacher waved his hand, and a few of the lights moved away. "Our first topic shall be on the History of-"

  Knock, knock, knock. The noise reverberated through the room.

  "The History of the Kingdom." Professor Marden pretended he didn't hear anything. "Indeed, the Kingdom-"

  Knock, knock, knock. A few chuckles swept through the students.

  "The Kingdom has been around for many a millenia, and it's history-"

  Knock, knock, knock. "Sir," John raised his hand, "I think someone's at the door."

  "John F Johnson, can you stop banging the table?" Professor Marden's face was edging on red. "You think I am not aware of your shenanigans?"

  The chuckles turned into a wave of laughter, only stopped when Professor Marden raised his hand. "Let's get back on topic. I don't wish to hand out warning in your first lesson."

  The class silenced itself, and their teacher turned back around. "So." He cleared his throat, watching everyone pull their pens out. "Let's discuss the Kingdom's history. Although the exact date the Kingdom was founded is unknown, our scholars, using a wide variety of sources, have determined that it was formed over five-thousand years ago. Indeed, the Kingdom's history is-"

  "Sir, my pen exploded!"

  Professor Marden turned to see John's desk covered in ink, John himself holding his notebook like a plate to make sure the excess didn't roll off and splatter the floor. Everyone was grinning widely, Night and Art included.

  "John," Their teacher demanded, "How on Earth did your pen explode?"

  "I don't know, sir!" John was grinning wickedly. "But-"

  Professor Marden furrowed his brow as he glared into John's soul. "Do you need tissue to clean it up?"

  John plonked his book down flat on the table, allowing the ink to flow off the edges of the table and mess the wooden floor. "No, sir," John rummaged through his bag, "I got some water, sir!"

  "...Fine then," Professor Marden turned back to the board. "So, where was I..."

  Pulling out a water bottle, John tried to carefully pour a little bit of the water onto the messed up area. But soon after he did so, he realised he needed something.

  "The Kingdom's history is, I will admit, long and tedious, but it is a topic you must study nonetheless. To put it bluntly-"

  "Sir?" John asked quietly, interrupting the monologue.

  Professor Marden was flame-red at that point. "Yes, John?"

  "Can I use your roll of tissues?" John asked carefully. The ink-water mixture was beginning to get out of hand and seep into the wooden floor.

  "Yes, John." Professor Marden almost spat. Shaking his head, he turned back to the board, before deciding it too dangerous to look away, and faced the class. "To put it bluntly, the Kingdom's origins are something to be proud of. Our sources indicate that the Kingdom first emerged as a stronghold taken by our then-tribes people, held by an evil group whose name is lost to history. Eventually, a town developed..." Professor Marden batted an eye to the side. "All of it?!"

  John had to hold the large roll of tissues in two hands. "I don't know how much I'll need, sir!"

  Professor Marden stopped for a few tense moments before turning back to the board. "Eventually, a town developed-"

  "So that's an okay, sir?"

  "Yes!"

  "Cheers." John waddled back to his table and, unwinding a comical amount of tissue from the roll, began to clean up.

  Professor Marden sighed. "Eventually... Where was I?"

  Night sat up, one hand raised, the other covering his mouth. "Something about a town, sir."

  "Oh yes. Anyway, a town slowly developed around the outskirts of this stronghold. Buildings were developed, primarily consisting of simple wooden structures, which, while functional, lacked any remarkable architectural features. They were nothing like the buildings of ours today, obviously. At this time, the main items of trade were grains and textiles-"

  The familiar voice rang out once more. "Sir, I'm bleeding!"

  Professor Marden whirled around to see blood splattered on the desk, mixing with the ink and water into a muddy-black-red colour on the table. "John, how the hell are you bleeding?" He was red before, but now he was purple. At this rate he's going to faint.

  "Sir, I think it's bloody hell," Commented Night, adding fuel to the flames. The class burst laughing like a shotgun.

  "CLASS!" Professor Marden stamped the floor, dirty looks shooting this way and that. "John, is that a papercut?"

  The criminal glanced up. "No sir, it's just a nosebleed. But I think- Ah! Papercut!" The laughter resumed.

  Professor Marden wasn't impressed. "Do you need a minute outside?" He pulled his hands away from each other, and the door magically opened itself.

  John stood up. "No sir," He said through strangled laughter, "I'm fine." He pushed the wet tissues to the side and grabbed a few more.

  Professor Marden arched a brow at John, before turning back to the board. "I think the best way to approach this course would be to ask you more questions. So, who knows-"

  "Hey! Chat!" John kicked himself off the chair. "GIVE ME MY BOTTLE BACK!" The boy beside him, who Night remembered as the one who had been tagging along before the demi-plane debacle, held the iron flask to the side. John retaliated by picking up one of the water-ink-blood soaked tissues and threw it at the boy.

  "THAT IS ENOUGH!" Professor Marden bellowed, extinguising the laughter rocking the classroom. "John, go sit over there," He said, pointing with his stick to the corner.

  "But-"

  "Go!" The stick seemed to get sharper, but it was probably Night's imagination.

  Dejectly, John slinked to the other corner of the class, along with his soaked notebook, wet tissues, and, after some grabbing, his water bottle. The smile was reduced to a small corner of his face.

  "Good." Professor Marden turned around, hopefully for the last time. "Now, who knows when the first Light Master came to power? This is a base question, so I expect-"

  Knock, knock, knock.

  His little stick snapped.