It had been a long day, and Francois had trouble concentrating. Now he knew that he almost certainly had to stand up to Louis' bullies, too quite a heavy task. He had said goodbye to his friend Madheera and was now just sitting around the hall leading up the auditorium. From here he had a view out onto the schoolyard, where Louis would eventually appear; then he would know he had to descend the great staircase and hurry to the paths through the arboretum that led to the library.
He had to make sure he got Louis out of harms way before Madheera left for the Rain's Hand fair - their usual meet-up place was the chapel right across from the school's premises. He wouldn't be going across the bridge, as he often would when he would visit the Imperial Legion garrison and learn some survivalist skills that the soldiers would share during their past-time, that led up to the merchants quarter, which is why Madheera wouldn't get his sweetroll this time.
The bullies were a Nord who recently arrived from Skyrim, who came here with his mother who worked for the mayor in the city hall, and this particular bully had been raised up with the uncompromising dedication to maintaining the assertive masculinity that was the rule among Skyrim's middle class these days; and an Imperial-Breton boy who simply followed the Nord everywhere he went, and who quite sheepishly went along with the trends of Breton culture such as it was at the time, meaning a subtle careerism looking for advancement within classy society, centered on the fashion of the Imperial high society, which mostly expressed itself as a thrill-seeking in vapid parties with convoluted conversations on the comings and goings of the affected, theatrical world of the Cyrodilic aristocracy.
Francois was always dressed in black, a consequence partly of being from a relatively well-off background: his parents, from Wayrest, send him here because of the great reputation of the local teachers, but also because they wanted him to experience the small-town life, hoping to teach him to appreciate the importance of an uncomplicated existence. He was a calm young man, who managed to maintain a dignified and composed exterior, but also betrayed a worthy interior mentality, that expressed itself in an unbookish learnedness and smart perception of unusual or special things that happened around him, or that were somehow salient in the ordinary or extra-ordinary world of politics, culture and common toil. Yet despite his ordered personality and ego, he was an outsider, in many ways, because he didn't really participate in the debauchery of the rest of his generation; and he did wonder: Am I crazy? Do people think I am crazy? And he reflected, when the thought crossed his mind, that it was certainly not bad to be crazy, nor was it bad to be considered lucid and level-headed, but in many ways, it was never quite right - it was something he kept wondering at. If you're crazy, you can get away with being uncoordinated and awkward, and people will not act like you're a bad person; and so, to some extent, your reputation, although one of craziness, is no longer one of viciousness or stupidity - but if you are considered 'realistic', you are at least listened to and appreciated, but if you do something wrong then, people will say that you are reproachable, more so, perhaps, than if they just thought you were crazy; and craziness has a certain sublimity, he reflected. Certainly it is worth having a disposition towards merriment and cheerfulness, but Francois could be introspective, serious even, which was the main cause for him to worry about his sanity. In the end, though, what mattered was being able to tell right from wrong, which is also why he thought it would be good to stand up to Louis' bullies.
Out of the great entry-door of the central school building appeared the stumbling Louis, absorbed in his own little world. This was the cue for Francois to start moving: he had about three minutes to cut off Louis on his way through the arboretum, presuming that the bullies would wait on a more secluded spot closer to the library. He set off through the hallway and hurried down the stairs, decisively controlling his motions, stepping forth with long strides, an explosive, directed locomotion. He passed some congregations of lingering students sedately conversing about this or that. Nimbly he walked through the arched gallery towards the way out; then he exited the main school building into the springtime sun, shining down Aetherius' exalted energy. As he traversed the lawns surrounding the school he saw Louis under the beeches clustered in the center of the arboretum, and he paced quickly to intercept him.
"Hey Louis, wait a second."
"Hi Francois. What is it?"
"Don't go the library. Arnuld and Tiberius are waiting for you on the way."
"I know, but I don't think it'll be all that bad."
"Spare yourself the humiliation. Just do something else for a change."