>>5813533You were startled to find Logan Pearce among the Tower Guardians at the gate, with their tall, proud, blue hats adorned with shield medallions upon their buckles. Granted, your friend wore no such adornment—not even a crimson band such as your own.
“Extra credits,” he explained sheepishly. “I’m doing this between classes as part of a fast-track program. Combat magic, defensive spells, scrying… That sort of thing. There’s high turnover among the Guardians, and I had to make up for the missed lessons and lower marks somehow.”
You smiled, and congratulated him. You tried not to make the words sound hollow or false, in light of your own continued absence. YOU might not have been able to bring yourself to return, but being a Tower Guardian had been Pearce’s career goal for years, and you were happy he’d found a path there.
“But hey,” he interrupted your thoughts. “You’re back! That mean me and the lads—and Testa—are going to be seeing you this weekend?”
“Maybe,” you said. “I’m actually not here for re-enrollment, though”
“…Then why are you?” he asked, not angry but worriedly, lowering his voice and casting a quick glance to the Guardians.
The Tower Guardians had fallen back to give the two of you the privacy to chat and catch up, quickly recognizing you as a legitimate attendee of the mages’ academy here—you WERE the only half-elf of your age thus enrolled, after all.
“I’m here to speak to Theresa Henzler,” you said.
Pearce’s body language went rigid, and he attempted a stern tone—though he could never maintain such with you for any length of time.
“Tips,” he said, “don’t do anything stupid. “She doesn’t know what WE know yet… And she doesn’t have to. We’d agreed not to, you know… Take this to the Paladins or anything, right?”
“I know,” you said, “but -I- still know.”
“well if we’re not going to DO anything about it, then what does it MATTER?” he asked. “Come on, just drop it. Please. You’re going to get yourself hurt.”
There was a pleading look in you friend’s eyes, and without thinking you rested a hand on his shoulder, which made him flinch and flush slightly.
“It’s not about that,” you promised him. “She has answers I need… Answers about Hershy.”
You nodded to the little old chimera perched upon your shoulder, who Pearce regarded for a moment and then sighed.
“Is that goblin putting you up to this, then?” he asked, protectively. “I can give her a talking to, if you want.”
You shook your head and laughed, and thanked him.
“It’s not that,” you said. “I just need to know.”
“You always ‘need to know’,” he grumbled.
Still, to your gratitude, your friend went and spoke with the Guardians on your behalf. They, in turn, sent a chimera of their own—a little crow-shaped thing with the eyes and wings of a dragonfly, which hovered and darted about—up to deliver the message.
