The stranger was a rugged fellow, tall and muscular with short, reddish-blond hair, light green eyes, and well-keptstubble. He wore nice clothing: a blue button-up with tan linen slacks pressed to perfec- tion, accessorized with a whitegold Rolex. A highly polished stick, much like Monson's, dropped to his side as he stared with a dimwitted expression.

  "Wait a minute, you aren't Casey! Sorry about that—I thought you were someone else."

  Monson couldn't help it. He laughed. The boy looked slightly embarrassed and on the verge of apologizing again.Monson spoke before he could.

  "I would hate to see what you do to people you actually know," Monson said, gesturing to the stick in the boy's hand."What would have happened if I hadn't blocked it?"

  "I think it's probably better that we don't think about it," the boy said.

  The boy's eyes, which appeared slightly cloudy, went a little wide, like he was coming out of some sort of trance.Monson knew that he was looking at his messed-up face and just now noticing with whom he was talking.

  "You look like you got in a ?ght with a meat grinder and lost." Monson laughed again. That was unexpected.

  "At least I have an excuse," Monson shot back, "which is more than I can say for you."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Monson's answer was lost to a loud voice that echoed behind the larger boy.

  "EN GARDE!"

  "What in the—" Monson moved in a jerky and abrupt fashion. He hadn't sensed this one; he was caught totally off-guard. Monson reacted quickly, ducking and rolling to his side out of harm's way. He looked up in time to see a secondboy quickly traverse the distance between them.

  Luckily for Monson, the new boy had apparently found his target: the larger redheaded boy. Wood cracked as the boysthrew their weight into their respective attacks. A ?urry of movement coupled with laughter resounded as the onslaughtcommenced.

  The ?rst boy, the redhead, was fending off some rapid blows from the much smaller newcomer. What this new boylacked in size he made up for in pure speed and spirit. Moving from pose to pose with rapid succession, his style, whichseemed to change from time to time, was wild but powerful and extraordinarily effective. The larger boy fought valiantlybut was slowly overpowered. Monson found the contest before him exciting, which caused him to look down at the stickin his hand.

  Have I done this before?

  A whistle from the direction of the ?ght interrupted his reverie. The large boy, still fending off attacks, whistled andthen gestured toward Monson's right hand. Monson knew immediately what he was asking for and took aim, ?icking hisstick toward the scuf?e.

  Exhibiting some ?ne agility, the redhead caught the stick. New life entered him as he renewed his offense and took hisattacker by surprise. With a great deal of ?nesse, he started to counterattack with a double-handed fencing style, spinningand slicing through the air like a human food processor.

  Notwithstanding, Monson could tell the conclusion was pretty much inevitable; the smaller attacker was just too fastfor his larger opponent. The duel concluded in a dramatic disarmament by the newcomer. With a few parries and thrusts,Monson saw the redhead's sticks ?y far overhead and hit the ground with a loud clang.

  "Got you, Arthur," the new boy said, landing the tip of the stick on the former's throat. "That's one for me. It appearsyou're in for a bad year."

  "Don't get cocky, Casey!" Arthur shot back angrily. "First day of school and you were lucky. You caught me off-guard."

  The new boy laughed. Turning around, he looked toward Monson.

  Dressed in expensive denim and a polo shirt, he was handsome, but for some reason, the style didn't suit him.

  His features were normal enough, with dirty blond hair, a soft jawline, and smooth eyebrows. Yes, he was quite normalexcept for the eyes: They seemed a bit large for his face, almost like his mom had mated with a bat. Monson could tell thatthe boy came from money, just like the cute blonde girl, but the effect of the expensive clothes was lost in the sweaty ?gurestanding before him. Another unexpected detail: The boy's hands were rough and callused, worn and heavy with use.Monson was impressed. This boy knew a hard day's work. Monson watched as he lobbed his mock sword from hand tohand. It looked very much at home.

  "Who's the new guy?" asked the boy called Casey, gesturing toward Monson. He stared at Monson, narrowing his eyes."And what happened to his face?"

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Monson breathed deeply. It was about time to make his exit.

  "No idea," Arthur said, also looking at Monson. "I actually attacked him thinking it was you."

  "You attacked him thinking it was me? HA! How thick are you?" "Shut up, Casey."

  "Better watch it, Arthur," Casey said, swinging the stick back in an arc and ?ourishing it outrageously. "I don't want tohave to give you another thrashing."

  "Oh, is that what it was?" asked Arthur, who sounded like he was starting to get angry. "How about I pull out thesurburito and crush that fat melon of yours right now?"

  "Bring it on!" Casey said, also sounding riled up. "I'll stomp the fool out of you."

  "Guys, calm down," Monson said rashly, moving to stand between them. "We still have orientation to attend, and let'sface it, it's way too early in the morning for a thrashing."

  Surprise etched in their sweaty faces, the two boys looked at each other and burst into laughter. Monson smiled atthem, not quite sure

  what to do. He opened his mouth to say something, but realized that he couldn't think of anything, and shut it again. Theyall stood for a brief span more, Monson feeling awkward.

  Getting his ?ll, Monson turned away, embarrassed. He walked away, preparing to grab his stuff and go hide in a hole,but before he could move more than a few feet, a hand found his shoulder and whipped him back around.

  "Where do you think you’re going?" Casey said, inspecting Monson with a beady eye.

  "Well . . . I was just " Monson replied sheepishly. The two boys

  just smiled as they stood in silence.

  "This is the part where you tell us your name," Casey whispered, extending the hand he had used to grab Monson. Hedidn't sound angry, quite the opposite in fact. Monson replayed the events quickly in his head. He was starting to feel kindof stupid.

  "Monson," he said, shaking the outstretched hand, "Monson Grey.

  And you are?"

  "Cassius Kay, but you can call me Casey. Everyone does." Casey gestured to the larger boy, who wasn't paying attentionto the exchange of pleasantries but rather gazing at a group of girls several cars down. He had a comical look on his faceas he eyed one of the girls longingly.

  "The brute ogling the ladies is Arthur Paine. He—" But Casey was cut short when Arthur spun on his heel andbellowed angrily.

  "How many times do I have to ask you not to call me Arthur?"

  "I told you there's no way I'm calling you that ridiculous name," Casey said calmly. "I can't say it without laughing!That's how dumb a name it is!"

  "It's based on Lucius Artorius Castus," Arthur said, a smug look on his face, "as in King Arthur. How could that ever bea dumb name?"

  Casey moaned, covering his eyes with his hand. "How many times are we going to have to have this discussion?Artorius Castus doesn't exist, just as King Arthur doesn't exist. They weren't the same person because neither of them were real people. Besides, why would you change it to Artorius? Even if he were real, it's still astupid name."

  "And I've already told you, Cassius," Artorius said, trying to make Casey's name sound like an insult, "if Artoriuswasn't real, then where did they get the Round Table, huh?"

  He said it with total conviction.

  "Did you really just ask me that?" Casey retorted.

  "I hate to interrupt," Monson said before they got back into the swing of their argument, "but why Artorius? What'swrong with Arthur? I think it's a nice name. Why change it?"

  Artorius sighed so deeply and with such melancholy that Monson had to wonder if he was serious. Artorius continuedto look regretful, then said, "Do you know how many times I’ve been called Weasley in my lifetime?"

  Monson looked at Casey, a smile on his face, his lips parted. Casey, however, preempted him.

  "If you mention that book, I swear I'm going to punch you." "Wouldn't dream of it, though have you consideredchanging your

  name to Dudley? I think it suits you." "Oh, you are so going to get it!"

  Monson laughed, but Casey wasn't done yet.

  "Ok, back to my original question. What happened to your face?" "Casey!" Artorius stammered, "You can't say thingslike that!" "What are you talking about?" Monson interjected. "You asked if I

  got in a ?ght with a meat grinder! How is that any better?"

  Artorius looked confused. "Is that bad? I thought it was rather manly."

  Casey sneered. "Only you would think that was manly."

  Casey looked back to Monson, obviously wanting him to answer.

  Monson smiled. He liked these two already. "Don't be jealous of my dashing good looks." "Don'tworry about that."

  Monson, the retort on the tip of his tongue, was cut short by a call

  he recognized as Molly's. He totally forgot; they had somewhere to be. Gathering himself, he turned back toward the boysand said, "We'd better get moving. We don't want them to start without us."

  "Hold on," Casey said, starting to move away. "I'll get my crap and meet you guys at the central passage. You'd bettergo too, Arthur. I expect your mommy is waiting for you."

  "Bite me," Arthur growled, hurrying away. Casey laughed and cantered out of sight. Monson collected his belongings,including the mock weapon that lay forgotten on the ground. Once situated, he started to move purposefully towardMolly, who was standing not far away, beckoning Monson toward her.

  "Are you ready?" she asked as he neared her. She was eyeing him expectantly. He nodded but didn't say anything.Molly grabbed one of his bags and started toward the far corner of the parking lot. They walked briskly, chatting amicably.Monson wasn't really that inter- ested; he was still thinking about the two boys he had just met. Eventu- ally, they fell inbehind a large group of parents and students who were talking quietly about something. There was a hint of conspiracy intheir voices.

  "He's here? What do you mean, he's here?” a tall blonde woman was asking a man who appeared to be her husband."Isn't he supposed to be locked up somewhere? I heard he's a criminal."

  "Those are all rumors. Actually, from what I heard, they don't really know where he's been. Just that he disappearedsuddenly and now is back. They weren't even sure he was going to redeem the position," the man said, leaning into hiswife. "To think the new Horum Vir is someone like that when the Diamond is still attending. Preposterous."

  Diamond? As in the stone? Monson thought as a feeling of déjà vu assaulted him. He thought back to their entrance intothe guest parking lot and the computerized voice. His curiosity sparked, Monson turned to Molly and whispered, "What'sa Horum Vir? It sounds familiar."