Fireborn

12 ¦ Study Buddies

After my early morning trip to the Tree of Life, my spiritual wound had faded to a dull, aching bruise like muscle soreness after strenuous exercise. I had a nice soak in the bath and donned my Healer robes and my sanctity coat, ready for a day of intense studying.

Once my spiritual energy had returned, so did my fortitude.

Enough moping. Bragda's right. I have work to do.

After organizing my parchment notes into piles, I took a deep breath and read over the syllabi for all of my classes. I added up all the pages I had to read in order to catch up on three weeks' worth of work.

Over six hundred pages in two days. No fun this weekend, I guess.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of girls laughing outside my window. Opening the curtains, I watched as a Barbarian lifted a girl one-handed into the air to the roars and cheers of his Fighter friends.

"Put me down!" the blonde Royal shrieked.

She twirled her arms and legs like a wayward windmill, pretending to be upset, but she had a broad grin on her face. The Barbarian acquiesced and set her back down on terra firma.

The Royal pressed her palms against his muscular chest. "Oh, you're so strong."

Ugh, gross.

"Damn straight, babe," he said. "Anyone attacks you, and they'll be dust under my shoe."

She batted her eyelashes. "Oh, Robert, that rhymes."

I rolled my eyes. Well, aren't you clever?

"Come on," another Barbarian said. "Let's grab some grub before the home team plays."

One of his Fighter friends fist-pumped the air. "We're going to smash them!"

How do Barbarians even count as a class?

The group of friends ran off until they left me brooding in silence. I didn't know if I was jealous or repulsed by their behavior.

Probably a bit of both.

I drew the curtains shut a bit more forcefully than necessary and marched over to my desk. With a heavy sigh, I unscrewed my inkwell and ran my fingers over the peacock feather of my quill. Ironing out a fresh piece of parchment with my hand, I dated my notes and opened a giant tome with an ominous thud.

Risan Physiology and Physiognomy.

"Hurrah! Why did I decide to become a Healer again?"

Knock, knock.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered under my breath.

Knock, knock.

"Who is it?"

No answer.

Knock, knock.

"Oh, stars above!"

I wrenched the door open, and there stood Peter, slouching against the door frame in his original form. He didn't look the same in his black cotton tee and leather armor.

The leather jacket was missing.

"What are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you, too, sunshine." He peeked through the narrow opening. "Alone? May I come in?"

I crossed my arms. "No, you may not."

Peter narrowed his eyes and stared at me in icy silence.

"Look, I have a ton of work to do," I continued, "and I have no time for idle chit-chat or staring contests. So, if you'll please excuse me..."