The tired young Imperial looked over his new attire. He had woken up to find them on the end of his bed. He still was in mild disbelief, having been given a job. And not by anyone, but a professor. And as a personal assistant as the professor now put it. He looked himself over in the mirror of his new quarters. The Imperial flexed and turned his torso back and forth, looking over the brown robes given by the professor. They were a bit dirty, but it wasn't like he was a student. And it was his punishment. Besides, he was used to dirty clothing. This felt perhaps too comfortable for the boy, so he could not decide whether or not he could get used to his new way of living. Even if it was temporary.

His quarters had a rather large bed compared to his size. A single arch window was in wall against the bed, although it was rather high up on the stone wall. A small table sat against a different wall, across from the bed and near the door. Next to the table was his chest of drawers, and a cupboard. The floor was made of carpet, so it felt soft under his feet. The main room just outside also had carpet.

The professor could be heard outside, tapping his cane against the floor. One thing the professor obviously did not have much of was patience. That was another thing he could try to get used to. Maybe even push the limits of, test the waters. And if they were rough, well he'd know to never push them too far again or he'd only end up putting both feet into the grave.

Thadimus really liked his new brown robe. They had black linings and a black belt around his waist with buckled hide shoes. Besides, he had to like it anyway. Not like he could run. If he did, well all that would happen was that he would be caught again. Zeb wouldn't be helping him. If Zeb did, there would be no living thing in this college, and Thad couldn't risk that happening. Getting everyone killed was not on his agenda, but something else instead.

"Thadimus, are you ready yet?" The boy sighed. They had to get going soon, and the professor was not helping. "Unless you do not wish to eat and starve." His stomach rumbled at hearing about food.

He went to the door and opened the door out of his quarters. There he found the old man, back hunched over as he read over some manuscripts on one of his many tables.

The professor's quarters, linked to the 'assistant' quarters as the old man called it was much larger. Easily twice the size of Thad's room, possibly three times the size even. A rather small bed which came as a surprise against the back wall, right in the middle. Several tables all around and two chest of drawers and a cupboard. A chest at the end of the bed sat there with a silver lock over the keyhole, as added precaution no doubt. There were about four paintings, two on an opposite wall to the other two. In them they depicted works of alchemy, familiars and a mage duelling some other being. In fact, to Thaddeus one of them looked rather familiar. Something about their eyes struck him. Which was strange, as he never saw a picture like it before or either being in it. But he shrugged it off. It was of no importance to him what kind of art the professor liked, although it interested Thadimus a bit.

He took a couple more steps into the room, his hand sweeping over the bed. Dusty along the top. He wondered why such a tidy seeming professor would leave a chest dusty. It made him think what could be inside. His hand itched to find out...

"Thadimus! Are you listening, boy?!" Thad turned his attention to the old man and found him holding a pile of books. Thadimus turned all attention on the man. "I need you to carry these books for me to my next class." Thad was hesitant, after looking at the fifteen books in his hands. After much hesitation, trying to weigh them in his mind, he took them. And they weighed a lot less than he thought, which surprised him.

"Come along! We mustn't waste time." Thadimus hurried after the old man, who was still full of surprises. The speed he walked, even with the slight limp he had was almost as fast as a fit man speed walking.

As soon as they exited into the hall, some students here and there could be seen moving about throughout the hall, as well as a couple of guards. Thadimus noticed one sneer at him, and also heard whispers every time he came close to one of the students. Thad couldn't help it if his gaze trailed here and there.

"Ignore them." The Imperial looked at the elderly Breton. His face was stern, but did give an occasional wave and a smile when someone passed by. "Pay no attention to them, and you won't have to worry about them paying attention to you. You are no student, so you are not to mingle here" he whispered as he waved to a passing Argonian student. "Understand?" Thadimus nodded, and remained silent and looking ahead.

A few more halls, and they arrived soon arrived at the room of the Professor's next class. The Professor opened the door and let Thadimus inside first. It was empty. Four rows of wooden desks, five each. All with a wooden chair. At the front of the classroom was a flat wall with no real pattern, yet several diagrams. There was a desk in between the desks and the wall, a large enough gap on both sides. And on it was equipment for alchemy. Bottles and vials, a mortar and pestle and a small furnace.

"Set one down on each desk. There will be enough." Thadimus nodded to the Breton who was looking through papers on the front desk and setting down somethings that looked like herbs and other things into bowls he had brought. Thadimus slipped one book each down, peering over every now and then. He spied butterfly wings, some flowers, but missed the other things. One thing he did see was a small block on the desk with an inscribed engraving: Reynor Labain. So that was his name, then. Thad made sure to remember that.

Once Thadimus was done, the professor was still laying out ingredients. Thadimus stood there, waiting. Until the professor waved him outside without looking up.

"Wait outside the door. And don't go anywhere else!" The young Imperial made no argument against Reynor. Besides, he hated standing around. So once he got outside, he decided pacing back and forth.

Some time passed before the Breton professor came out, holding his staff. And then started moving off, and Thadimus followed along.

"So, where are we headed now?"

"The Main Hall. Everyone will be there." Thadimus stopped in his tracks. Everyone, he thought to himself. He remained standing there for a moment, but then started moving forward when the Breton too stopped. "Do not dawdle." The professor snapped. Thadimus walked slowly, all the while noticing there was no one along the way. The staff tapped against the ground along the whole way. Tap, tap, tap. That was all Thad could hear. They came into what seemed like a hall, only the left wall was open with some pillars holding the roof up. A large garden was below, and across a large building.

He tried to ignore the tapping, trying to focus on the beauty of the garden. But noise overcame sight. Pausing, he glanced across to the larger building in the middle of the entire college. A couple of windows up about halfway was where some voices came from.

"That is the main hall" the Breton said from beside him. "Everyone eats there. Teachers, students. Sometimes some guards and other staff around." Some cluttered footsteps ahead drew both their attention to a small crowd of students. "That must be students from equestrian classes. They always come late, having to groom their horses" the professor murmured. Thad looked over at them. Almost all but a few had very messy hair like they had been riding through a storm. One of them mystified him in wearing a dress that did not look at all appropriate for horse riding. Thadimus went to follow into the hall, only to have a hand clasped on his shoulder.

"Walk behind me. Some of the guards, they will know who you are and if they see you without me, your welcome will not be so...comforting." Thadimus remained still, watching the students leave into the hall. Still resting a strong hand on Thad's shoulder he led him down the hall to the main hall. The boy would rather a welcome entrance over anything, even if that meant being lead like a young child by a parent through the markets. And the Professor really had a strong grip.

They walked across an open bridge, the group ahead having already entered the hall. And good riddance to that, Thad thought to himself. He would rather stay hidden from a group of students. And as he was thinking that, halfway through that thought, his mind went blank and he froze. The hall was full of people! He could feel himself shaking. He had been in crowds, but those crowds were used to seeing some like him. His hair hadn't been tidied as well as Reynor could have hoped, and Thadimus hadn't been taking his time putting on his shirt. Put that with what had happened the night before, and one could easily see why he would be so uncomfortable.

"Remain behind me, and you will not be lost in any crowd. And what a terrible thing that would be" The old man said. Thadimus could have sworn he heard some humor in the old man's tone, and found himself alone as the Professor started to move forward. He walked along behind, trying to ignore the many stares. Some did, some didn't.

What surprised him the most was the variety of races. He'd only seen such variety in marketplaces, and the waterfront. It astounded him. The amount of voices wasn't new, as he was rather new to that.

"Keep moving" Reynor snapped.

"Sorry." Thadimus was not usually one to say sorry. But he was put in an uncomfortable position. It became less comfortable when the smell of food waved across his nose. He took a sniff. Roast chicken, baked potatoes, pork. Reynor led him over to a large row of tables set with food. There he saw the things he smelt, and more. Sweet rolls, leek soup and a very tough looking meat that looked like it came from something fat.

"Take a plate." Thadimus looked at the professor in surprise, with a suspicious glance. Did he just get given permission to take what he wanted? Out of all this food? It was almost overwhelming. So much food had never been given to him. He had to either work with it, or have the normal daily share in his house. Immediately, he went right in, his hands moving so fast they were a blur in his eyes. He never caught Reynor's own look of surprise as the boy dug in. Nor the continued look at the rather large stack of food on his plate. "I trust you can get back to your room alone?" The man couldn't help but have a small hint of amusement on his face at the amount of food.

The Imperial boy nodded, taking his plate quickly out of the hall, knowing many eyes rested on him. He did not look back to the elderly Breton. Once out of the hall, he took more caution in case of any wandering, vengeful guards.

As he went along, he stopped here and there to admire portraits and busts of important people, no doubt. Along the way through the outer ring he looked out the windows, at the view. Here and there a passing guard would give him a look. Thadimus wasn't sure if it was his attire, or if the professor had spread the word on the Imperial's status, but he was kind of glad not to be tackled down on sight.

He soon made it to the room, setting his food on the desk and then began eating as he looked over a book he 'found' and brought with him.

A knock at the door fell onto blocked ears. Markus heard nothing through the thick leather cap over his the top and around his head, and only focused on the blade in his hands. It was a blunt blade, couldn't do too much of damage and would not be very effective for stabbing. It was a necessary precaution when training. His dorm room was spacious enough to keep a dummy in here.

His room had a small window at the back of the room. He was lucky enough to get a room with a window. In each dorm, there were four rows of rooms through the area. One along the outer edge, one along the inner and two between. The two between had no windows. Markus' was built along the outer, so he had a great view of the Imperial City.

On the left of the window was his smooth oak bed with a single white pillow and white sheets. All rooms had the same kind of bed. The teachers, he was not sure about their beds, although he guessed they had something better. But it was just a guess. At the end of his bed was a chest, and at the other side of the room was a wardrobe and his desk next to that. In the middle of the room, he had a dummy in the sunlight. His practice target for his sword. It had wooden armor and a wooden shield, underneath that were some sacks sown together filled with straw inside. He had made it himself to aid him in training with blunt swords.

Markus made a left swing, both hands on the hilt. A thud echoed around the room as the blunt blade hit the hard leather armor over the straw dummy. He drew back and hit again, this time bringing the sword down over the head. Again and again he struck till whoever waited on the other side of the door could wait no longer.

The door knocking continued for two more times before the person on the other side had enough, and opened it. Only to be met by a training swordsman turning without seeing the visitor. The blunt blade almost hit the visitor if they had not ducked at the last second.

"Woah! Watch your aim please!" Markus drew his blade back and to his side, then lifted his mask up to see his friend standing before him. "You are really crazy with that sword."

"I'm crazy? Who's the one who almost walked into a blade without knocking?" he replied smugly. He set the blade down in it's case, then closed and locked it. "And by the way, it wouldn't have hurt that much. I am steady with a blade...And it's blunt."

"I did knock. And blunt can still hurt, you know. Just like a...like a..."

"I know they ca-You know what, nevermind. What are you doing here anyway? You know I train at this time, I follow a routine" Markus asked quickly, wanting to change the subject from Bezir's weird analogies. The Redgaurd had strolled right in, almost hitting his blade. He wanted to know why. No one disturbed him during training time. It was a time to be serious, and concentrated. And Bezir broke that concentration.

"Well?" Bezir took his eyes off the blade to Markus to return a reply. It was quite funny in the Imperial's mind, since the Redguard was quite close to danger. So close that if it were a woman, it would be love at first sight for the Redguard.

"Just to talk. Can't a friend talk?" Markus looked over Bezir quizzically.

"This is about that break-in, isn't it?"

"Aren't you curious about it? I heard that they're still here." Markus raised a brow at that. Last he had heard, the intruder had been captured. So why would they still be here? Markus had a feeling this chat would not be over quick and went to sit on his bed. Bezir went over to the straw dummy, looking over the cuts into the armor while weighing the helmet in his hands.

"Really? Not that much." The Imperial caught the helmet when the seemingly bored Redguard tossed it over. He then set it down beside him, his eyes going back to his friend. "Anyway, why would they still be here?" They should have been on their way to the Imperial City prison by now.

Bezir shrugged, toying with one of the hands of the straw manikin. "Can you stop playing with that?" Markus snapped. He was serious with his friends at time, and with people he did not know he was always serious. He had told the others before that it was a way to cover up how he was uncomfortable, and it was effective.

The Redguard's hands dropped slowly to his sides. "It's falling apart as it is. I need to get a new one." Bezir looked over the dummy again, then shrugged at it and went to sit on the bed.

There was a moment of silence between the two. Not very common, since Bezir was very talkative. It didn't last for very long, however.

"I heard a rumor." Markus rolled his eyes. Rumor. He knew what was about to come up. Another wild adventurous idea. "Someone was roaming around the catacombs. And they spied a silver longsword, oddly placed, and-"

"Stop. Stop right there. No, no more adventures in catacombs." Bezir looked dumbfounded. Before he could speak, Markus cut him off, his tone much more serious. "No more skeletons, or any other undead."

"But-"

"Remember last time? At that old crypt in Skyrim when we took a trip there? We split from the others, and we almost died, Bezir."

"Come on, Mark-"

"No...No...No" Markus repeated everytime he saw Bezir open his mouth to speak. "I almost got my arm cut off last time! Those draugr were unpredictable, and numerous. Plus they had ice magic...and, well, dead people."

Bezir let out a long, disappointed sigh. Markus glared at him, then he let out a defeated sigh of his own. "Fine." Bezir's face immediately lit up, but Markus wasn't finished. "But, we prepare more. Better weapons. And we'll have to go in by the..the sewers." He shivered at that. The sewers were about just as bad, if not worse on smell. It made him feel rather squeamish, thinking of all the creatures that lived down there, such as Skeevers and other unsavory creatures. Silence continued until some footsteps could be heard outside, many footsteps. A stream of people were moving, and chatter could be heard. They both stood up from the bed and headed to the door, which Markus opened. "Well, I have chemistry."

"Sword practice." Bezir went out first, joining the crowd. Markus followed suit, closing the door behind him then moved in the stream of students to his class.

Bezir continued to think about the next adventure to come. In one hand he had a single book, the other hand he had a feather-quill pen. Made from a hackwing's feather, a creature of the Black Marsh.

He moved along with the crowd to the southern part of the college, where the alchemy classes were. Some of the students in the crowd diverted into room after room. Once his classroom door came up, he turned into it with some other students. He went in last, trying to hide behind the others. The teacher was not always that fond of him.

Bezir swore that he could feel her glace following him as he went over to his seat. On it was a sheet of paper with instructions written on it and several bowls of ingredients. Along with that was the tools necessary; mortar and pestle, a glass flask over a small metal furnace with a platform on top, two more flasks connected to the first by thin glass tunnels then end in a small bowl in the table, a metal spoon, and a pair of large tongs. That was all he took notice of before seating himself, his chair scraping against the hard wood floor as he pulled it out slowly. Some eyes of already seated students shifted onto him.

The redguard was seated at the end of his row, which was a great spot for him. He always liked to get out of class quickly. The room was angled toward the front, each row on a different level.

At the front sat a female Altmer teacher. Set before her desk were the same amount of wooden bowls.

"Class. Good afternoon." About half the class responded in the same fashion. Bezir just tapped his fingers on the desk. "Before you are ingredients for a potion some of you have no doubt made already. A potion that will aid in protection, fortify any armor you wear." The teacher gestured to the bowls before her. "Before all of you are the ingredients. On the sheet of paper is the recipe. I shall work along with you." Most of the class nodded, then got to work.

Bezir looked over the thin sheet of paper. A candle at the top of the desk lit it enough to be read. His finger followed down the list, rather slowly;

Two Ice Wraith Teeth

Two Sabre Cat Teeth

Three Slaughterfish Scales

Four Thistle Branches

Two White Caps

Melt Ice Wraith Teeth in first flask

Ground Sabre Cat Teeth with Slaughterfish Scales in mortar and pestle. Add to flask

Ground Thistle Brnaches and White Caps. Add to flask

Simmer mix in first flask

Bezir began with as specified, melting the Ice Wraith Teeth in the flask. It gradually melted, and as it did he placed the Sabre Cat Teeth into the mortar and pestle, and started to ground it up into a fine powder. He had studied alchemy as a child, so he knew exactly how fine it should be. He grounded the fish scales with it, the scales glimmering among the bone white powdered teeth. Then he put the powder into the flask, and next proceeded to ground the plant ingredients together and do the same.

Once that was done he let it simmer. By then, most of the class was at the same stage. The student next to him had some trouble grounding up the scales. They were quite tough to against the pestle. Bezir did not help though, and instead just waited till the potion became ready.

It took minutes for it to happen. Eventually it was complete, somewhere near the boiling stage. Bubbles rose to the top of the glass flask.

"When can we use this?" a voice popped up. The Redguard looked up to see another student, closer to the front with their hand raised. He saw it was a young Nordish woman with some face-paint.

"Whenever you wish to" the teacher said, then got back to reading a book in her hands. The Nord woman nodded.

Now that Bezir thought on it, he knew that she was quite a fighter from some sword fighting classes he had seen Markus in. Although they never talked or introduced each other. So he just shrugged it off and looked back to his unplugged the end of the flasks, and the potion flowed into the center bowl. With a little mixing with a metal spoon, he started to fill it into a potion bottle. He made a silent yes with a fist pump in the air.

"Bezir?" He looked up with a blank face, still with his fist pump in the air. The teacher had her eyes on him, almost as if they were studying him. Of course, he didn't realize that he must have looked rather silly with a closed fist raised in the air. He looked up to the front of the classroom, catching some eyes on him.

"Yes?"

"Are you done?" He nodded, and she shrugged. "Then you may leave." A wide smile spread across his mouth. He started to stand up from his chair, ready to leave. "But first, for your work till next class I wish for you to make a different potion, like that but a stronger variant. Understood?"

Bezir kept walking, just nodding along as if he was listening. But he wasn't really listening. He just wanted to get out of the class as soon as possible. He had adventure on the brain.

He headed to a class over, and waited there on a bench against a wall. After some waiting, his fingers started tapping on his knee.

Time went by rather slowly, slower than Bezir wished. Come on, what's taking you so-

"Hey!" The Redguard's attention turned to the origin of the voice, finding an approaching guard. "Out of class early again, are we?"

"As usual" Bezir replied, turning his head away to the direction of the classroom, a grin on his face. He was always proud of getting out of class early, as he found them rather boring sometimes...Well, not sometimes but rather every class unless it had something to do with historical artifacts. Those interested him. A fondness that passed down from his father to him.

The guard gave a quick gesture of good favor and continued on along his duty of patrolling the college's halls. Bezir resumed his waiting. He had forgotten to tell J'Nir of his plan, the very same one he shared with Markus. Although, knowing J'Nir as he did the Khajiit would no doubt agree to joining in. It had been the same in the past since they were children, and it would be the same from now. In some ways they were like brothers. They had grown in the same household for some of their childhood, before it happened, the one thing that tore apart Bezir's family...

Bezir was snapped out of his thoughts when students began filing out of the classroom to his left, yet he remained seated, watching them go while occasionally waving and saying a quick greeting.

Some were familiar faces, some other young students he had met time to time, or just seen from a distance. Sometimes Bezir was social, sometimes he wasn't.

A much more familiar face came by and kept going before stopping and turning slowly, as if not expecting him to be there.

"Bezir? What are you doing here? Did you-"

"Yes, I finished class early. Now quick, I want to tell you something. But not here. It's hush-hush" he said. J'Nir went to ask, only to have a finger pressed against his mouth, then making a silenced motion across his mouth when Bezir shushed him. "Hush-Hush." He started moving off, a stunned J'Nir coming back to the now and following quickly.

Hello readers. So, I haven't written anything in a while (as you may have guessed). So, I wanted to get this chapter out as quickly as I could. I haven't been able to, mostly due to working and...well, just not really feeling up to writing. So, here it is. Another chapter.

So, hope you all enjoy the chapter.