**
The week passed quickly as the two adventurers settled in. Fake and Andin met with most of the faculty as they trickled in from the far reaches of Pelagos. The students followed suit and came in droves through the weekend. The fall session would start the coming Wednesday.
Andin met with the research staff; they agreed to begin work in earnest a week after things got settled in in their classrooms. Fake frequented the archives more and more, he took to smuggling the books out to the beach where he found it more pleasurable to read.
Wednesday morning a stream of young faces entered Andin’s classroom. Andin introduced himself and wrote his name on the blackboard, Andin son of Bellos, of Beldur. “Please address me as professor or prince,” Andin reached for the roster.
He began reading names. The class rattled off a steady staccato of presents and heres. Andin reached the middle of the list and paused. “Nina Prestle?” he asked with a strange look, as if he didn’t believe the name he was reading. There was no response. One of the boys raised his hand. “Yes, go ahead,” said Andin.
“Professor, Nina is from the same island as I am, she and her family were murdered this summer,” said the boy.
Andin hid his shock at the news, “What happened?”
“A strange man came to the island one night, he killed all three of them, the town guard heard the screams and found him just standing there as if he were waiting for them to take him away,” answered the student. “Nothing like that had ever happened on our island before, Mr. Prestle was a really nice man; they say the man who killed them was thrown into the void.”
Andin looked upset and confused. The class was perfectly silent, their minds full of exaggerated stories of Beldurians exploding. The prince made a tight fist, “What was the father’s name?” “Marth Prestle sir.”
Andin wanted to shake the boy for every scrap of information he knew, show some damned restraint, he ordered himself. The frightful tension of the classroom broke his inner turmoil. He finished reading the roster. All were present save Nina Prestle.
Andin’s focus drifted as he autonomously wrote the magical disciplines on the board. Nina Prestle, daughter of Marth Prestle. Marth Prestle. A man in a dream. A man Andin was supposed to kill. The successor to Nobleman Eilef. Who killed him and why? Andin regained his focus. He was in control again.
“So who here is planning on taking on a second discipline?” asked Andin. Most of the class raised their hands. Andin followed up with “Who knows which one?” Only a few hands remained. “After you have completed this course you will be better equipped to make that choice.” Andin concluded, “Though that choice will never be an easy one to make.”
A student’s hand rose. Andin looked at her and she spoke, “Professor what are your disciplines?” “Who knows the element of Beldur?”
Another student answered, “Fire sir.”
“Correct,” said Andin and his right hand caught fire.
“And the formal name of the Plane of Earth?”
A tall skinny boy answered, “Kato.”
“Quite right,” replied Andin as his left hand turned to a fist of stone. “My job is to teach you about the magics you didn’t grow up with; the strengths and limitations of each, a few simple demonstrative spells, and how they could synergize with your principle.”
“Is there anyone in the room whose principle is not water magic?” No one answered. Andin kept the first day’s lesson short and dismissed the class early. He sipped coffee at his desk staring at the roster. The impact of the Prestle family’s death still rattled him. He swirled his cup until the coffee clung only to its inner walls.
He thumbed the dull crystal around his neck. He wished he could talk to his father. A week until the portal research started seemed like a lifetime now. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen, he thought. He needed to tell Fake.
“Excuse me, are you the professor for Advanced Fire?” asked a voice.
Andin let go of his crystal and sat up. “Yes I am, I thought the upperclassmen didn’t begin until Monday,” answered Andin surprised at the interruption.
“Oh I know, I took fire as my second discipline a long time ago, I’m in your class,” said the girl.
“Class won’t start until Monday, I’ll see you then,” said Andin hoping she would leave.
“Well it’s just – is there any way I can get my textbook now so I can start studying?”
Andin waved her in, “In the back on the top shelf.”
She moved in the flowing, mesmerizing way characteristic of Pelagic natives. Her presence calmed the prince’s troubled mind. She left the classroom quickly, “See you on Monday professor.” Thinking of the girl made Andin think of home. He let out a long sigh.