Raith pressed against the wall and held his breath, closely following the guard. He turned around the corner; Raith, quiet as a shadow, sneaked into the corridor, vanishing in the darkness.

Dark elven school of priests was old, and its dungeons were even older. Inside there were located stocks, a small treasury, and in special corner – prison cells for punished students. The place where Raith walked in; he knew it like the back of his hand. He also remembered that cells were not guarded. One would thinkg that temple's wealth should have been protected properly.

As of now all cells were empty, except one. Raith stopped in front of it and picked the lock skillfully. Inside the it he found out a body without signs of life lying on the floor.

"Katras?" Raith whispered.

"I can't believe," reached out with weak but cheerful voice. Lying dark elf moved, his eyes were bright in the darkness. "Our oh-so-reasonable Raith came to visit a poor prisoner and graced this dirty cell with his presence. Sorry, I won't able to bow…"

"Shut up," Raith put down his bundle on the floor and squatted next to Katras. "Are you trying to attract half the school here?"

"Don't worry, nobody's coming until tomorrow morning. Priests left me to myself. Suppose I am repenting here, praying for forgiveness and trying to quiet my empty stomach. I was punished, remember?"

Students received the punishments more often than praises – depriving of food, humiliating tasks, inprisonment. And the worst one – whipping in front of the entire school; which Katras got for his another prank, and the teacher had spared no lash. Raith shook his head, looking at back of his friend. For him this punishment would be eternal disgrace, but Katras took such things much easier.

"Do you care about your honor?"

"Honor? I probably don't have any, I haven't checked," Katras said blithely. "A few lashes wouldn't hurt it either way. Which can't be said for my whole back."

"Stay still," Raith took a balm out from the bundle. "I'm not too good at healing, so hang on."

"I would do anything for you." Katras closed his eyes again. He took the treatment staunchly, just rarely hissed and swore through his teeth. When Raith finished, Katras even managed to sit.

"What are you trying to do?" Raith asked angrily. "You'll end up dying from these beatings. Or you will get expelled, and then killed by your father. He had a lot of troubles sending you to this school..."

"There is a third option, my gloomy friend," Katras said. "I'll leave this lovely place and run away."

"Where? And for what?"

"It's a big world, I'll find my place. As for another question… Tell me, Raith the Bleak, what are you doing it for? Why you do you study prayings and incantations, wash the floors in the temple, listen to stern-faced priests? Not saying that you really take all that nonsense, which teachers pour in our heads, at face value. In that case you wouldn't have come to me.

Raith started thinking. Katras was not often serious, so that answer might be truly important for him.

"I want to get power," Raith said with absolute certainty.

"Oh, such ambition."

"You don't understand. I want to get enough power to be myself."

"Now I see. But, you know, Raith – for this any power isn't needed. And, that being the case, it'll never be enough…"

"Stop talking," Raith pushed the bundle to Katras. "You should eat."

"You're going to help me, otherwise teachers will suspect that I repented not enough yet. Where did you get this food?"

" In the kitchen, where else," Raith took a piece of dried mushroom, only to be polite.

"I'm a terrible influence on you," Katras shook his head, pretending to be sorry. "Wonder if Nor will bless food stolen from his servants, if other servant stole it…"

"Most likely he will punish another servant, too talkative one, for blasphemy. Can you watch your tongue, just for a change?"

"I can. But that's boring."