If Rean was completely honest with himself, he would admit that sharing a room with two pretty girls was hardly a bad thing. The only fly in the ointment was that one of them hated his guts. After Instructor Sara had brushed off Alisa's complaints about being all put into a single room, the archer had turned her anger onto Rean instead.

"If either of you two ever comes anywhere near our beds…" she had let the threat hang in midair, glaring daggers at him.

He sighed inwardly. Despite everything, she apparently still hadn't forgiven him.

Although Instructor Sara had told them that they could complete as many or as few of the optional requests as they wanted to, the four of them had unanimously voted to complete as many as possible. None of them fancied having to fight monsters on a full stomach, so they set aside the two hours after lunch for the requests that could be fulfilled within town, leaving the combat-related requests for the morning and late afternoon.

The students ate their lunch hurriedly, intending to work on the next request as soon as possible. Meanwhile, Instructor Sara was happily drinking her fourth pint of beer.

"How is her liver still functional?" Alisa wondered aloud. Her seat afforded her a view of the entire room, and the hawklike vision which made her an excellent archer unfortunately meant that she could see every time their instructor drank another gulp.

Sitting across her, Eliot took a quick glance behind him. "Maybe Tear arts also heal damage to the liver."

Laura studiously avoided looking in that direction. "Regardless, it seems rather unbecoming of an instructor to be imbibing while her charges are working."

"It's looking more and more like bracer work," Rean shrugged. "Nobody really checks up on bracers, right? They're just trusted to get the job done."

Laura nodded. "Indeed, that is how it is in Legram. If the lack of a supervisor was due to trust in our abilities, I would be honored."

Alisa made a face as she voiced the unspoken remainder of Laura's sentence. "But that's probably not the reason why she isn't checking up on us."

"Hey Margot, another pint!" Their instructor noisily plunked the wooden mug back on the counter. The innkeeper cast a look at their table and hesitated for a few seconds, then took the mug to the back room for a refill. Rean surmised that Margot was trying to figure out whether to be proud about selling five pints of beer to a single customer – and at lunchtime, no less – or disappointed that it was to an instructor who was supposed to be supervising her students.

Dinner was a much more relaxed affair. They had finished every single request for the day. Instructor Sara had left earlier in the afternoon, saying (to no one's surprise) that Group B was having some problems. Manager Otto had dropped by the inn after dinner and given each of them a slice of Celdic's famous apple pie, saying it would be irresponsible of him to let them stay without getting a taste of the local delicacy.

Afterwards, they retired to their room to write their daily reports. The prescribed format called for a significant amount of detail, and it took them the better part of an hour to finish.

"If I had known writing the reports would take up this much time, I probably wouldn't have been so eager to complete every request." Alisa grumbled.

Elliot stretched one last time as he prepared to lie down on his bed. "Then again, perhaps it was for the best. The apple pie was divine." That drew laughs out of the others, even Alisa.

As the other three pulled up their blankets around them, Rean doused the lamp and turned in.

Sometime during the night, he felt the chill of the midnight air. He tried to pull the blanket up towards his neck, but it seemed much heavier than he remembered.

His eyelids grudgingly opened. The only light came from an orbal streetlamp outside their window, and that light barely diffused into their room. He turned to check what his blanket had gotten stuck on, willing his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Then he realized his eyes needed no adjustment to recognize the blonde hair of the person sprawled out next to him.

He then further realized that said blonde should not, under any circumstances, have been in the same bed as him.

The universe must be conspiring to kill me, Rean thought. Bracing himself, he shook Alisa's arm.

Her eyes opened sleepily, then widened rapidly as she realized who was right next to her.

Before she could say a word, Rean slapped a hand over her mouth and hissed "You're in my bed!"

The expression on Alisa's face went from outrage, to shock, to disbelief, then to resignation as she looked around the room, her mind belatedly confirming the situation. Her shoulders slumped, and as Rean pulled his hand back from her mouth, she whispered, "I haven't sleepwalked since I was nine. Of all the times it had to happen again…"

A few seconds passed in silence. "Thanks for waking me up quietly and not making a scene." She said contritely, staring at the floor.

"It's a good thing Elliot and Laura didn't wake up." Rean replied quietly. "No harm done, Alisa." Part of him yearned to place an arm around her shoulder, but he settled for patting her on the head.

Alisa winced internally at the gesture that was usually used on children, but decided this was hardly the time to complain. She turned and gave him a brief smile, then returned to her bed.

It was the first time she had directed a smile at him. He decided he liked it very much.