"Fine. Good morning my dear students. Professor Manohar is really happy to see you again." Manohar accordingly modified his greeting.

"Don't talk in third person like a madman and show some respect toward the academy and your students!"

Linjos had hoped that by forcing the unruly Professor to take an active role in the Healer class, it would teach him a lesson about responsibility. His plan, however, had backfired right from the start.

"Why are you so angry? I had just got my hands on nagas' claws, you know how hard they are to come by. Also, yes, I may have lost track of time, but I did find a cure for Prixyne. Doesn't it amount to something?" Manohar rebuked with an indignant tone.

The class gasped in amazement. Prixyne was a congenital degenerative disease, even worse than the one Tista had suffered from during her youth. It would affect the nervous system, making it collapse over time.

It required constant treatments just to slow down the illness's progression and relieve the symptoms. For decades it had been considered a death sentence and now it had a permanent cure.

"Of course it does. It's the only reason why you are here instead of being chained to your desk!"

"Let's cut to the chase." Manohar ignored him, resuming his speech.

"You already have learned most of what you need to graduate as full-fledged fourth year healers. What you still lack is experience on the field. During the third trimester, there will be no more lessons.

The academy will send you wherever there is a dire need for a competent healer, and despite you don't even closely qualify, you'll have to do."

"Manohar!" Linjos roared.

"I mean, you will be split into groups and sent to different locations, like true professionals. You will contribute to the welfare of the Kingdom on the academy's behalf.

Your grades will be influenced by your performance. It will also affect the prestige and the name of the academy. Your success will be my success, your failure will be Linjos' failure. Everyone knows I never fail."

Linjos facepalmed, his killing intent became more palpable by the second.

"Since for some reason that I'm unable to understand our Headmaster is angry at me…"

"Because you went missing for almost three months!"

"…I'm forced to babysit the most incompetent group."

"Last warning!" Linjos' hands were dangerously close to Manohar's throat.

"I mean, I will supervise the work of those whose skills are still a diamond in the rough. All the other groups will not have a supervisor. Keep in mind that this opportunity is a great honour for all of you.

You have the chance to let your name be renowned even before graduation, to meet important figures of the Kingdom and help those in need.

At the same time, you'll probably kill someone due to your incompetence, giving my dear friend Marth an excellent excuse to kick you out of the academy and reduce my insane amount of paperwork."

"I'd never do such a thing!" Marth Warped in the class too.

"Also, it's completely different from the speech I wrote you. You had to encourage them to soldier up in the face of failure, telling them it's normal for a healer to lose a patient or make a wrong diagnosis!"

Before he could start an argument, Professor Marth took the lead.

"Remember, never listen to anything he says outside of the medical field. From today onwards, even if just for a few hours each day, you'll have the same role and responsibilities of an academy sanctioned healer.

"The reason you'll be split into groups is to be each other's lifeline. Never be afraid to ask for help or to admit your mistakes. If you manage to graduate this year and the next one, countless lives will be in your hands.

"It's a heavy responsibility that not everyone is capable to shoulder. A strong spirit, wits, and talent are the minimum requirements to become a good healer.

Go and make us proud."

Marth's assistants handed to each group the list of patients they had to attend to before the end of the lesson. Each name was associated with a hospital, along with the instructions of how to reach it from the city's closest branch of the Mage Association.

Lith's group belonged to the top percentile, so their list contained only sensitive names. Most patients weren't hospitalized, but required home visits. Professor Marth personally went to speak with them.

"I recommend you to always move together. I have the utmost trust in each one of you, but these people are powerful." He tapped on the list.

"It's better to not disappoint or offend them. Quylla, you are still too meek when dealing with patients, so I'll appoint you as team leader." Quylla turned pale, instinctively hiding behind Friya.

"You will take care of dealing with the families and make sure your colleagues receive the respect they deserve. Without a confident attitude, people will always walk all over you.

"Lith, your bedside manners are terrible. Your duty will be to take care of the patients' psychological welfare, explaining to them what's the cause of their affliction and reassuring them when necessary.

Friya will be the main healer and Yurial the diagnostician. You two have no weak point, aside from the lack of experience. If anything happens, contact the academy immediately and we will do the rest."

He patted them on the back before going to speak to another group. Yurial took a quick glance at the list, frowning with a worried expression.

"This is much worse than I thought. Most of these people are as stuck up as annoying. They consider my household unfit of its title because we contribute to the Kingdom from 'only' three generations.

I'm sorry Quylla, but either you put out your best Lith's impression or they'll use us like doormats. Let's get moving, we have a lot to do and so little time."

***

Lukart Household, Archmage Lukart's private quarters.

"What do you want this time, Lukart?"

"I need your help. This time you'd better pay attention. Velan Deirus is this close to finding proof of my connections with Hatorne and the Kandria's incident."

"Why should I care?" The voice on the other side of the communication amulet was annoyed, like a teacher dealing with a spoiled child.

"Because if I go down, I'll drag you with me. After the plague's outbreak, all my plans are ruined. I have no reason to proceed against the White Griffon anymore, aside from your constant blackmailing me.

Your plans have no chance of success without my help, and if they catch me red handed I'll make sure we'll share the same cell."

"Don't you dare to threaten me, Lukart. I just need one word to get you killed."

"Do it and you'll suffer the same fate. I'm not stupid. I already made sure that if anything happens to me, recordings of all our conversations will be delivered to at least fifty royal constables. Not even you can stop all of them."

From the other side came a crushing sound, like something big and heavy being destroyed.

"What do you want?"

"The same thing I asked you the last time. Kill Deirus's son, I don't care how."

"How do I know I can trust your word?" The voice oozed disgust.

"You can't, but know this. I'm preparing to leave the Kingdom since the outbreak, my only problem is that with Deirus breathing down my neck it's taking too much time. I can't move too many assets or funds at once, or he will notice.

If you do this last favour for me, I'll get out of your hair forever and leave you everything you need to reach your goal."

"You are a lucky man, Lukart." The voice seemed to calm down.

"Yurial Deirus has just left the academy. I know where he will be for the next hours."

"If he is outside the academy, I can take care of him myself. Just give me his coordinates."

"Your gift for failure has long stopped amusing me, Lukart. You can't be trusted with picking your own nose. I'll send my own men. You focus on packing your stuff. You are likely to screw that up too, but at least there shouldn't be casualties."

***

The group's home visits went smoothly. They were still students after all, Marth would never burden them with a task above their skills. The challenge wasn't curing diseases, rather to learn how to find the way in an unknown environment and to deal with the patients.

Their first destination was Vinea, a beautiful city built around a small lagoon. The uptown district was crescent shaped, so that every mansion would be overlooking the sea.

Water separated the city blocks, forming canals that could be crossed either by boat or using one of the many stone bridges. The group had almost reached the address, yet Quylla was walking behind the others, fiddling with her hair and rehearsing all the introduction lines she could think of over and over.

- "If she doesn't snap out of it, we'll never finish our round in time. Sorry, little sis, but it's for your own good."– Friya hated herself for what she was about to do, but she couldn't stand her best friend always being so passive.

"You know Lith, this city is quite a sight to behold." She waved her hand, encompassing the clear blue sky and the lagoon's crystal clear water.

"Only if you like humidity and scavenging birds raining death from above." He grumpily replied while dodging the bird po*p that paved most of the way.

- "If it wasn't for the lack of gondolas, this city would remind me of Venice." Lith thought. "Not to mention that on Earth pigeon's droppings aren't as big as an omelet."–

The birds plaguing the lagoon closely resembled seagulls, but their size was akin to a pelican.

"It's a pity that Phloria can't enjoy this view." Friya ignored his remark, keeping her eyes on Quylla's reaction.

"Even for me, it's the first time seeing the sea. I find Vinea truly romantic. Why don't you take her here during the weekend? I'm sure she would love it."

"I'll think about it." He said.

- "Maybe too romantic. Not to mention that I don't have time for this cr*p." He actually thought. "If I manage to learn Blink before the weekend, to keep my training schedule and if I don't make any more breakthroughs with the boxes, then I'll consider the possibility."

"You are impossible!" Solus was outraged. "Just this morning you were whining about the lack of romance between you two and now you already consider her a second, no a fourth best option?

You are supposed to make time for her, not to just use her to fill the blank spaces!"–

After hearing them talk, Quylla's eyes steeled with rage. She marched double time, taking the list from Yurial's hand to check the address before banging the knocker with enough strength to make the door tremble.

A butler in a black and white livery, that reminded Lith of a smoking, abruptly opened the door with an annoyed expression.

"Yes?" He didn't even care to hide his disgust at the sight of the group, dilating his nostrils and curling his upper lip like someone had delivered garbage.

"Good morning, good sir." Quylla's voice sounded sweet like an unripe lemon.

"We are the White Griffon's healers. Lead us to our patient, please."

"The front door is only for the guests. Go around back to the service entrance." The butler attempted to close the door, but Quylla stopped him

"Your name." She hissed.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I want your name, so that when I report to Headmaster Linjos why we couldn't treat your master, he can explain why and who deserves credit for house Korya losing its privileges with the academy. I'm sure your master will reward you well."

Her eyes were reduced to slits brimming with mana. The butler turned pale as a ghost. Angering a mage was already bad enough, but if his actions damaged the household, he would consider himself lucky by being just skinned alive.

"I'm very sorry, Lady Mage." He stuttered. "Please, have mercy of this old fool. You and your mighty colleagues are the most welcome." He opened the door, half kneeling in front of her as soon as she entered.

"Lead the way." Quylla snarled.

That day, more than one butler who dared to disrespect them, become unable to even meet her gaze or speak to Quylla without bowing first.

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