The laboratory was billowing smoke out its door into the hallway.  There was no heat, and not even any students rushing out to escape the thick black clouds, but all the same, at 2:00 a.m. the fire alarm for the Kandallar Labs went off.  The two guards in the Leftwatch Tower jolted awake, and scrambled down the stairs to the adjoining building to find Bryan step out, soot-ed black, save for his white teeth showing in a grin.
      "Hi guys!" he said to Jox and Benny, the two guards, who rolled their eyes when they saw Bryan.
      "Jox, go turn off the alarm.  I'm gonna talk to Bryan, again, about a good nights rest," Benny, a second year student from a small farming community in Dominara, said to his guard friend.
      Jox nodded and wandered back up the tower stairs to reset the fire alarm spell.  Within a moment, the alarm was quieted.
      "Bryan, Bryan, Bryan.  What are we going to do with you?" the farmer-tuned-wizard-to-be said to his under-classmate, "You've been working in there till three in the morning for the last six months.  And not to mention that it's just your first year here.  You need more sleep buddy."
      "I'm done," Bryan said.
      "And you really should do something about doing some socializing.  You've been holed up for so long that only Jox and I come down here to-" Benny paused, catching Bryan's words finally, "Wait.  You're done?"
      The first-year student nodded, his white grin still stuck on his blackened face.
      "Well then," Benny chuckled and went over to the stairs and proceeded to shout up to Jox to bring a "special bottle" down.
      Bryan was back in the lab when Benny turned to look back.  Jox came back down, hefting an untouched bottle of Redhurst Ale (snuck from under the Dean of Thaumant's nose), and looked to Benny with a raised eyebrow.
      "What's up?" the thinner, nimble second year student-guard asked his companion.
      "He says he's done," was the reply.
      "He IS done!" was the shout from Bryan as he came back out of the lab, rubbing his face clean with a wet towel.  When the towel was removed, the better part of the soot was on blackening the white towel rather than his face.
      "Wheell, that's a relief.  No more explosions or fire alarms at three in the morning then, eh?" Jox jested with Bryan for his constant arousal of the alarm.
      "Hey, I've only set it off six times now!  That's less than they do during the day!" Bryan protested, but he knew he didn't need to.
      "Yeah yeah, tell that to the day guards," Benny chuckled, and looked at Jox, and his eyes slowly lowered at the bottle, "You gonna open that sometime tonight?"
Unfortunately for them, Headmaster Andarlin was listening in, via the wall ring.  Those were the words he decided to speak up on.
      "Not tonight you three.  Benny, Jox, you two get back to your post.  Share that bottle with Bryan when daylight hits my window sill," the half-elven man said loud and firm.
      All the two student-guards could do was to nod, and head back up the stairs, leaving Bryan to be scolded for all they knew.
      Bryan slowly approached the ring mounted on the wall, and waited till Benny and Jox were well out of the way before bursting into another grin, with Andarlin returning the expression.
      "It's done!" Bryan strained not to shout.
      "So I heard," the Headmaster replied, almost as enthusiastic as the student before him, "Come by my office in the morning with the first of them, and lets see how well they work.  But first get your things together and get some sleep.  I'll dismiss you from any classes for what you've done."
      "Thank you sir," Bryan grinned and went back into the lab.  Andarlin just chuckled and turned the ring he was at around, effectively turning the one in the lab hallway off.
      In the lab, Bryan quickly gathered his materials, and the finished product, kept neatly in a wooden box, and headed out the door, racing to the other side of the campus, weaving in and out of the Warrens.
      Everyone was asleep, but something made Bryan stop suddenly, and look behind him, only to see a dark figure get around another corner behind him.
Christopha was asleep, he knew, and no one else knew he was awake, save for Andarlin and his two classmates.
      His brow came together, almost in anger that someone was following him, but more in determination.  Before too much time lept past him, he was off, running again, but down the hallway on his right.  Just in time to catch the dark assailant with his shoulder.
      Their bodies crashed into the wooden wall (which by good fortune, was reinforced on the other side by brick and mortar).  The heavy thud didn't reach any of the other students in their beds, which was not very fortunate for Bryan.
      He dropped his things, and reached for his knife from his pocket.  Twentieth century USA knives were much easier to snap out than drawing out a dagger from a sheath.
      As the dark figure started to rise, its hood fell off, revealing the most unexpected face; Cassandrah Du'Locke.


Du'Locke, Cassandrah: Former Redhurst student, graduated with honors, and within one year of her graduation, applied for a teaching position in the Wolkhart School of Evocation.  She's fought hard to keep her name out of the Student Hand Books, though she's not the only one.  Mostly a charismatic raven-haired instructor, she does take the occasional student aside and makes a mockery of them in the middle of class for their failures.  Born in Taer Valaestas, Valenar, Khorvaire, Eberron (City, Country, Continent, World), she is a fair elven woman, thin, and striking to the eye.  Only a few faculty know of the relation between her and Brian O'Eogain, the Irish student in his third year on the campus.


      Something else was drawn as Du'Locke rose, and it was something Bryan was not expecting.  She had been in his room, and stolen something he kept hidden away.  A Smith & Wesson .500 revolver.  The long silver gun glinted in the dim light.
      "You fire that off," Bryan whispered harshly, pausing at where he was poised to attack, "and you'll have everyone awake and on you before you can start casting your first spell."
      "You're right.  That's why I'm going to slip away, and you're not going to say anything," the haughty war-elf said in return.
      "Oh?  See, now the question is, did I load it?  I just can't seem to remember.  And wouldn't you be dishonoring your ancestors' spirit by just slipping off like that?"
      Du'Locke halted at that statement, pausing to consider his words.  "You do your homework it seems," she replied finally, "You're right, I shouldn't, but I'm sure he'll understand.  It's for the greater good of Valenar, and the greater good for you if you walk away," she said flatly.  Then something caught her eye, far beyond Bryan in the hallways where the light wouldn't reach.  "Besides, I don't seem to be the only one sneaking around these corri-"
      A small cylindrical piece of metal rolled from the shadows, attracting both their attentions.  Bryan recognized it immediately, and lunged for Cassandrah.
      "Shit, woman, get over here," he said, pulling her away from the open hallway and around the corner, barely in time for their clothes to not be singed by the burning white flash.  Their eyes, however, were not so fortunate.
      Du'Locke crumbled to the floor, wailing in pain, dropping the gun and clutching her hands to her eyes.  Bryan was a bit quicker, and had his eyes shut before the blast, and recovered the pistol in his short-lived blindness.
      "It'll pass," he said assuringly and patted Cassandrah's foot as he crawled back towards his things.  He didn't hear anyone near them, and could only hear Du'Lockes' pain-filled whimpers.  He felt for the wood box, and found it burned and hot to the touch.  Quickly opening it, he gently touched inside, revealing to his senses that the project he had diligently been working on still there.  He closed the box in a hurry, pulled his shirt off, and wrapped the box in it to pick it up.
      With his sight slowly returning, he got back over to Cassandrah, who had brought her knees up to hug them.
      "You'll be fine.  The blindness is only temporary, even though you'll be in a lot of pain for a few days," he said, kneeling down, and opening his shirt to tear off a strip of it.
      Cassandrah looked over at the sound, "What are you doing?"
      "You'll want something to cover your eyes till they stop hurting, or it'll keep you blind for much longer than it would if covered," he said, leaning over to her, "Lift your head from the wall and face away."
      She almost didn't comply, but did after a moment, believing that he knew what he was talking about.  She could feel the cotton cloth strip cover her blinded eyes, and be tied in the back.  Timidly, she touched where the makeshift blindfold had been placed, and out of habit, tucked it under her pointed ears.
      "Th-thank you," she said quietly.
      "No problem," he said, wrapping his box up again, though blurry his sight was.  He picked up his box, and slowly stood up, reaching for her hand, "Come on, I've got to dump this off, and get a new shirt on.  You have to get to the Hall of Healing to have someone look at your eyes."
      "I can't see.  You expect me to find my way there blind?" she stammered, as if he were abandoning her, even though he was the one helping her up from the floor.
      "No, I expect you to follow me, keep your mouth shut, and let me get you there.  Whoever that was, they were after one of us.  And since you're the blind one here, I'll trust that you're not in league with them," Bryan stated matter-of-factly, and proceeded to tug her along with him, watching the corridors for any sign of the second dark assailant of the night.
      They got through the Warrens without a peep out of the students or the assassin, and into the staff quarters before Cassandrah spoke up.
      "Where are we?  We're not in the Warrens anymore."
      "No duh.  And I ain't telling.  Deal with it," he replied, bluntly, tugging her into his room, looking behind them, and closed the door gently.
      Christopha was asleep on his couch.  Cassandrah hadn't moved from where he placed her, so everything was quiet.
      Du'Locke started to say something till Bryan placed his hand over her mouth and whispered very, very low into her ear.
      "Not a word.  There is another in here sleeping.  Stay right on this spot, okay?"
She nodded and he removed his hand.  She could hear him move away from her, and she breathed a bit of relief.  The pain from the flash bomb had subsided for now, since she wasn't depending on her eyes to do anything.
      A moment later, and she felt Bryan's hand take hers again and tug her back towards the door, and out of his room.
      Christopha still lay there, sleeping comfortably.  In and out, without the slightest noise.
      Du'Locke reached for Bryan's shoulder as he lead her out of the staff housing area, and out to the field towards the Hall of Healing.
      "We're out in the open now.  Whoever it is can see us.  You should have left me there in the Warrens.  Someone would have found me.  We're going to be killed out here Bryan."
      "Look, shut up and trust me.  If I had left you, whoever rolled that grenade to us would have found you and probably slit your throat.  And I'm too nice of a guy to let something like that happen to a spy."
      Cassandrah went quiet when he reminded her that he found her snooping around.
"What were you doing anyway?  You're a war-elf.  You don't go all sneaky as far as I know.  What would be of such importance at Redhurst to change that?"
      "I was going to get in the Vault tonight," she mumbled.
      "Ha!  Yeah.  You, get in the Vault?" Bryan laughed as they made their way to the corner entrance to the Hall, "You've got to be kidding me.  No one gets in there.  Andarlin rarely sets foot in there as it is."
      "I would have," she almost sounded like she was pouting.
      "And I'm an orc runt," he chuckled back, as he opened the door for her and ushered her inside.
      Inside, the late night clerk, Brian O'Eogain sat in his chair, lightly playing a soothing Irish tune on his violin looked over at them, raised an eyebrow, but kept playing for a few moments, bringing the soft lullaby to a close.  Slowly, quietly, the red-haired Irishman stood from his chair and came around to them.
      "Guys, it's late.  We're trying to keep things quiet.  What's wrong?" he asked them, thick Irish accent very apparent.
      "Flash bomb.  But worse.  Lady Du'Locke is gonna be blind for a few days, so long as she keeps her eyes covered," Bryan said to the other Brian.
      "Ouch, any idea who?" the Irishman asked, inspecting Cassandrah's eyes.
      "No clue yet," she replied before Bryan could, "But I'll get the blighter back."
      "One thing at a time m'lady," Brian told her, acting as a good medic, "Heal first.  Beatings later."
      "Hah, I like this guy, even if he's using my name," Bryan said, "I'll leave her in your hands then Me."
      "Okay, see you later Me," the other Brian said back as Bryan left (all these Bryans and Brians, even as the writer, I'm getting confused).  When he was gone, Brian took Cassandrah's hand and lead her back to a cot, "Take your cloak off while I get some hot towels to go over your eyes."
      She complied, and the elven woman shed the cloak, feeling below her for the cot, making doubly sure that it was empty before sitting slowly.  She heard Brian come back and set something with water on a table next to the cot.
      "Okay, now turn and lay back," he said to her, his hands reaching for her shoulders to guide her down so she wouldn't bump her head on the metal bar at the head of the bunk.
      When she was down, she felt his hands gently touch the makeshift blindfold again, "Now keep your eyes closed.  I'm putting a cloth over your eyes," he warned her, and for good reason.  When he moved the bandage away, she barely felt it over her eye lids, but that was enough to cause her to whimper in pain.
      "Quiet now.  You'll be fine.   It'll hurt for a few days.  Bryan's probably already told you that too," she heard him say.  She felt the warm, wet cloth go over her eyes, and it stung again, but it wasn't as bad, the heat soothing the pain away.
      "Thank you, Bri-" she was stopped from saying anything more by his lips touching hers.  Being blind made her revel in it, though she had felt his lips many times before.  When his lips parted from hers, she smiled warmly, something she rarely ever did for anyone else, "You know you're not supposed to be doing that Brian."
      "And who's around to stop me at this hour of the morning?" the Irishman goaded quietly, and sat on the cot with her, "Were you doing that thing with the Vault again?"
"I was trying.  Then Bryan ran into me, and then my eyes got all like this," she muttered, not happy at her current physical state.
      "Alright Cassie," he sighed, "At least this will keep you from staring at the Vault for hours at a time.  You know you shouldn't be plotting to get in there anyway.  Last thing I need is to hear of you being struck dead by one of the traps on the Vault door."
"Hrumph.  Yes dear," the elf said, crossing her arms, like she's said it for the same reason a million times before.
      She could feel Brian rise from the bed as he spoke.
"I'll let you get your rest.  I'm sure Bryan put his shoulder into you.  That one you won't feel for a couple of days," he said, leaning down to kiss her gently once more.
      She smiled again at the kiss, and nodded gently. "Yes dear," she whispered out as she heard Brian walk quietly back to his desk.  Sleep came to her faster than she had planned, as her mind just drifted away, the pain of her eyes subsiding to the dream world.


The scream of the alarm clock came too quickly for Bryan.  He fumbled on the nightstand to cut the foul thing off, and slowly wrenched himself out from under the comfort of his bed.  The half-burned wooden box still sat on his desk, reminding him of why he was so tired.
      He slipped off the edge of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom to wash up.  An hour ago Christopha had been in there, and left him a note as to where they were, and where she'd be at lunch.  The note was normal for them, slid between the mirror and the wood frame that held it in place.  The only thing that he felt wasn't normal was the way they hid the relationship from the rest of the school, but he understood too well why they were doing this.
      The water was wonderfully warm as he washed his face.  His eyes were back to normal, thanks to the ring his grandfather had given him.  The only thing that lingered was the memory of the flash.  He had known what the hand sized device was, though he never saw it in that form before.
      His mind wandered on that for a while.  Over the last year, the ring had forced more knowledge into his head than six years of college.  He knew ways around the regular laws of physics through the branches of magics, and even things that Redhurst never taught to their post-graduate students (Chronomancy being one of them).
      After a few silent moments, he cut the water off, toweled off his face, and got dressed for the day.  His normal attire was definitely unique to the students around him.  Being a modern-day human from Texas of the Earth realm did that.  Only a handful of students were from the same world as him, but they were from different countries, so styles and languages were still diverse.
      As soon as he was dressed, he picked up the burned box, and started for the door, topping his head off with the ever-present black leather cowboy hat.  Hardly anyone saw him outside without it.
      As soon as he was on the other side of his door, he hopped around the long way to get to the Dean's Tower to see Andarlin.  The charred walls of the Warrens was not one of the places he wanted to be this morning.  There would be no doubt that he'd have to explain last nights events to the Headmaster, but he didn't want any of the students to ask him questions about what might have happened.  They all had a tendency to do that.  Modern weapons were not their fancy, and he was one of the lead sources in information for them.  Texas has a bigger reputation than its citizens know about.
      It was seven thirty in the morning, and practice was already happening on the fields.  Beginning sword play was just in motion, and the junior Spellflag team was geared up and already in full formation.  Bryan could hear the buzz in the air of news of the burned walls in the Warrens being passed around, with no confirmation about what might have happened.
      They'd have an answer by the end of the day, no doubt. Whether or not it was the truth, well, that's another story entirely.
      Bryan crossed the front of the building, and came through the short walkway into the Grand Hall, and around the corner to the Dean's Tower.  He barely waved to the student-receptionist there, Kima (a Halfling girl, rather young looking for a student at Redhurst, but then again, Halflings age very differently than humans).  Kima did just about the same to Bryan, knowing he was here to see Andarlin, and he did have regular meetings in the mornings like this with the Headmaster.
      Bryan made his way up the stairs, and into the office, to see the half-elven man sitting behind his desk, scribbling away on a piece of parchment.
      "I thought we had self-writing quills for that, boss-man," Bryan chuckled as he entered.
      The pointed eared man looked up and smiled, "Well, I like to practice my writing on occasion.  Stress relief, and all, you know?"
      "Stress?" Bryan strained a fake smile on that one, "I don't know the meaning of the word.  Twitch."
      Andarlin put the quill down and waved for Bryan to take a seat, "So I've guessed.  You know about the incident last night I take it?" he asked the young student, and received a nod in return, "Well, what happened?"
      Bryan sighed in the chair as he sat, setting the half-burned box on the desk under the dirty, torn shirt he had used the night before.
      "I tackled Cassandrah Du'Locke last night in the hallways.  She said she was trying to get into the vault.  Again, from what I gather.  Then someone else rolled a burning flash grenade down the hall to us.  I got Instructor Du'Locke out of the way, and saved my eyes, but she didn't know what the thing was and her eyes are going to be blind for a while."
      Andarlin nodded, "I heard about Cassandrah's condition from Mr. O'Eogain this morning, but why didn't the hallways burst into flame?"
      "Too hot.  Took up all the air in its immediate vicinity, and went out in an instant.  That's what I'm guessing anyway.  Flash bombs from my world just blind the victim for a few seconds, but thanks to this," Bryan tapped his ring, "I know just a bit more."
      There was a pause.  Bryan realized that Andarlin just passed over the thought of one of his instructors trying to get into the Vault.
      "Wait.  No outrageous comments about her trying to get into the Vault?"
This time it was the Headmasters' turn to chuckle, "No, no.  I've known about her intentions for a while.  She won't do it, really.  She's too chicken.  And her interests in O'Eogain keep her from doing anything stupid."
      "Wait.  What?"
      "You heard me.  She's too chicken."
      "No.  That thing.  About the other Me.  You mean..."
      Andarlin just nodded with a quiet smile.
      "Damn.  Dating right under my nose too.  Getting information from a drunken Irishman isn't as easy as it seems then."
      The Headmaster looked towards the box with eagar eyes after a moment, "Back to business.  Let's see it."
      "Oh, right!" Bryan remembered why they were here, and opened the box, and removed the small crystalline slab from it burned container.  "You are going to love this.  PDA's may be popular from where I'm from, but this.  This is better.  Here," he said, passing the slab over to Andarlin.
      The piece of fluorite was not pure, but that was the design.  It measured three inches across, and five inches width wise, and was solid through the middle though only a quarter inch thick.  The center was clear, with the outer rim being a mix of purple and red colors that the crystal was known for.
      "Amazing," Andarlin said, like a ten year old who just got a new toy, "How do you turn it on?"
      "Run your finger across the clear area," Bryan grinned.
      The half-elf slid a long finger across the plate as instructed, and the slab of crystal lit up, and projected what appeared to be magical glyphs a few inches above the plate.
"This one is to access the rings across the campus," Bryan pointed to one of the glyphs, which by design appeared to be one of the communication rings they used on campus.
      "And this?" the Headmaster asked, pointing to another glyph.
      "Dictation.  It'll record what ever it hears within six feet, clear as a bell."
      "Amazing," he uttered again, in awe of what his first year student accomplished.  "What about this?  The scroll?"
      "I'm still working on that.  It's supposed to be a roster list.  It just needs things added in.  It's also designed to show information about every student on campus.  But there is a lot more than I could get done."
      "Wow, I don't blame you.  How about this-oops," Andarlin started to ask and touched the glyph that looked like a Tetris board.  In the same instant, the glyphs dispersed, and a new projection appeared, in the form of an original Tetris game.
      "Ahhh, sorry, I had to add that in.  It's a game," Bryan said sheepishly.  "Tetris.  Very addictive."
      "Okay, how do I get out of it?" Andarlin asked, not angered by the game, rather intriqued by the game, but wanted to continue the tutorial.
      "Touch the little square at the bottom left, and touch the word 'yes'," Bryan instructed.
      The Headmaster did, and the menu reappeared.
      "The last one there is a clock.  It'll show the time here, and the time in area the campus is in," Bryan said.
      "Amazing work Bryan.  How do you turn it off?"
      "Run your finger the other way on the crystal.  It knows which way you drew your finger the first time, so it knows which way you need to draw it to turn off."
      Andarlin slid his finger upwards on the crystal, and the lights faded away, and an enthusiastic half-elf set the crystal down on the desk.
      "I'm going to really enjoy this Bryan," he said to the student, "And my guess is, you're going to have a good bit of extra coin in your pocket at the end of the semester."
      Bryan shook his head vigorously, "No!  No.  I'm not making any more till next year.  I've set that fire alarm off far too many times over the last six months, and last night nearly got me killed.  No more.  I just ain't doin' it."
      "Well, I've still got to pay you for your work though," Andarlin replied back, a slight chuckle with knowing what Bryan meant about the work.  He reached down into a desk drawer and retrieved a black sack, no larger than the crystalline plate that Bryan had just given him, but with quite a bit more bulge.  It made a profitable sound when it touched the desk.
      "Twelve platinum crowns, and fifty eight gold crowns.  And a few silver and coppers for a good stiff drink later," Andarlin chuckled and pushed the bag to Bryan.
      "Crowns?  As in, the bigger ones?" Bryan's eyebrow raised a bit, wondering if the Headmaster was pulling something on him, but still was grinning at the sound of how much he had made.
      "Yes, crowns.  You've earned every one of them Bryan."
      Bryan slowly took the bag off the desk and rose from his chair.  He barely had time to feel the weight of the bag before his stomach gurgled at him.
      "Bleh, I think my belly is reminding me of what I should have done this morning.  I'm afraid I'd better get something to eat before they close everything up for lunch," Bryan said, clutching his stomach harder than the bag of coins.
      The Headmaster just chuckled, "Alright Bryan, go on.  I'll see you at the poker game tonight."
      "Right boss," he waved, and headed back down the stairs, putting the coins into his jacket pocket.  He waved after Kima as he started across the campus.  The Halfling barely paid attention to his passing.
      Back across the fields he went and made a shortcut through the Gym, out the other side, and into the Dining Hall.  It was empty.
      Bryan checked his watch and cursed silently.  Ten past eight.  He was twenty-five minutes late to even begin eating.  'Oh well,' he thought, 'I'll see if I can make a sandwich in the kitchen,' and trudged on into the kitchen area.
      Leganté and Damnil, and the rest of the kitchen staff were all busy already at fixing things for lunch.  So busy, in fact, that no one paid any attention to Bryan as he took a piece of bread, and put some scrambled eggs on it before they could toss it away, and even less attention to him as he slipped out the same door he came in.
      "Odd, but not out of the ordinary," Bryan mumbled as he crossed the empty dining hall, and out onto the grassy area between the Gym, Dining Hall, Right Dorm, and the Library.  He found a nice grass spot, and sat down, eating the quick sandwich and listened to the goings about the campus for a few moments.
      It seemed peaceful.  But last night, with finding Cassandrah snooping about, finding her with his revolver, and that flash bomb.  Something was quite wrong on the Redhurst campus.
      Du'Locke obviously didn't know whos room she had broken into and taken the gun from.  He was a student, but living in the Staff Housing.  Only the staff knew of where he was, only because they saw him every day.  None of the students had any idea where he was living on the campus, but they all guessed he was living in the Warrens, since the place was a natural maze.  The teaching faculty had no idea, save for the deans, and Andarlin.  So his secret was safe.
      The campus seemed to be full of secrets.  He was living in staff quarters, had a relationship with the head of security, and kept a very large modern-day firearm hidden in his room.  And the other Brian was with an elven woman who is obsessed with getting into the campus Vault, not to mention that she was a teacher too.  On top of that, there was another diabolical person on the campus.
      "What the hell am I going to do?" Bryan questioned the sky, knowing he wasn't going to receive a response.


      As with Bryan, the other Brian's morning came around too quickly.  He barely felt the tap of Mother Chicendra on his shoulder, and just as barely heard her words telling him to get up and get some sleep.  He was just numb from the long shift he was on.  Didn't even realize that he said to her 'okay', and she had left him to his minds wanderings.
      It took a good shake from Tanya, his Russian friend and co-worker, to get him on his feet.  Well, his feet hit the floor first, followed by the rest of him.
Tanya just laughed and hefted the Irishman to his feet as his mind was jolted awake by the pain.
      "Come my friend, it is morning.  It's time for you to rest, and for me to take the desk for you," she said in a strong accent.  She was a tall woman, with thick blonde hair.  Her clothes were more for purpose in the medical field than for style.  She was a bit built for a woman, let alone for a wizard-in-training.
      "Right, right.  Sleep," Brian muttered, realizing what happened, "Cassandrah's over on the bed there, and everyone else seems to be fine.  We didn't have anyone but her come in for anything."
      "Momma C told me already.  Instructor Du'Locke has already gotten up and had someone guide her to her room," Tanya said, looking to the empty cot where Cassandrah had been when she got there an hour ago.
      "Oh.  Okay.  I guess.  Good Lord I'm tired.  Where's my violin?"
      Tanya pointed to the desk where he was a moment earlier.
      "Right," Brian said, stepped around Tanya, reached over and took his instrument off the table, "See you later Tanya."
      "Dos vodanya, Brian," she waved him off as he headed out the door.
    Brian made his way to the Warrens to find his room.  He saw where the flash bomb went off, destroying parts of the hallway where it laid when it detonated.  For a good fifty feet both ways, the hallway was burned, without a bit of fire.  They had already gone about closing that part of the hallway off, but it still was disturbing to see.  Only the brick remained where the wood had been burned away.
      And his room was just on the other side of the blast radius.
      Brian silently cursed as he made his way around.
      "Who could have cast such a spell to burn things without causing a fire?" he heard from one hallway.  The students were still formulating theories about what might have happened last night.  Brian knew better.  But then again, he had the other Bryan to get information from.
      The door to his room was untouched, with the scorch marks no more than twenty feet from him.  Lucky him.
      Inside, he laid his violin down on his desk, and found that Cassandrah had made a slight detour with her guide, and had been left there to sleep.  The black haired elf laid on his bed, still clothed from the night before, but blindfolded anew with some proper bandages.
      Without disturbing her, Brian took his boots off, and pulled his vest off, before climbing into bed with her.  She seemed to have been expecting him, and mumbled incoherently as she shifted over for him.
      Once his head hit the pillow, everything faded quickly, and sleep came more clear to his mind.
     
     
      There is something to say about the dream world on the Redhurst campus.  Not always are the dreams just dreams.  The latent magical energies that swarm about the grounds on a daily basis are subject to manipulation by the sleeping mind.  But no one has ever realized this, save for Dean Jecture of the Divination School.
      How the wizards' mind shapes the energies is completely up to their own subconscious, but never to the point of physical manifestation.  On rare occasion, students of the Evocation School will leap out of bed, claiming they've seen a vision in their dreams, thus causing them to believe that the Divination School is the way they should be studying.
      If only it were that easy.
      The leftover magics float around in what looks like a chaotic pattern.  If one could see them, and slow time down enough, it wouldn't look so random.  In fact, it would look much like a global weather system of clouds.  It's just sped up where the only thing that can sense them is the unconscious mind.
      This gives reason why some students dream of the future when they never touch that branch of magic, and why some dream of summoning a griffin out of thin air when they deal primarily with Necromancy.
      For our characters in this story, dreams take on a whole new meaning.  The students from the Earth realm dream separately, but only to a point.  There are times when they find themselves within the same dream, and they know it.  Sounds like a bad rip off of a Freddy movie, doesn't it?
      Well it's not.  Communal dreams have been theorized for who knows how long, but while individuals may claim to have the same dream at the same time, it never has been confirmed.
      At the Redhurst Academy of Magic, however, it is a real occurrence.  The Earth realm students, while they are removed from their home world, are able to share in each others' dreams, and help overcome fears, nightmares, and even every day problems in class.
      When the chaotic patterns of the loose magics come around to one of the sleeping students, he or she instinctively draws the power to activate this shared dream world.  It gets populated and designed by the students own memories, feelings, and mental state at the time when the students' sleeping mind takes notice of the free energy.
      For Brian, his sleeping mind took note of a very small cloud of magic making its way through the Warrens.  It was just a sliver left over from one of the Conjuration classes, probably from one of the first year students who overcast his spell.
      But it was enough.
      At the time he fell asleep, only one other Earth realm student was out cold at the same time; Janet Dufrane. 
      For some reason, she had the ability to change the dream world they all shared.  This upset many dreams, especially Brian's dreams.  The Irishman kept finding himself in a very compromising situation with her in the dream world when they were the only two asleep, even though he made it quite clear to her that he had no interest.
      This one would be a great deal different than the others.
      The blasted landscape was charred to a crisp.  The trees lay flat, in one direction, still smoking from the unknown explosion, and stripped of bark, leaves and branches.
      It was a nightmare world.  These never ended well.
      Brian came into the horrid place on the edge of a crater, already not liking what had happened.  Off in the distance, where he guessed a city once stood, were the ruins of skyscrapers, falling apart in the dim skyline.
      Janet was a student of the Jecture School of Divination.  While the students of that particular branch of magic were prone to dreams of the future, Brian hoped that she was not one of those types of students.
      He took in a breath, though he knew it was a dream, and could smell the air clearly as if he really were there; harsh, hot, and stale.
      "Hello!" he shouted into the wasteland, expecting a response.
      There was none.
      His steps echoed in his ears as he made his way to the ruined skyscrapers, the only sign of cover for the area.  The ground crunched sickeningly against his boots.  He didn't bother to look down; they were bone shards.
      Not a sign of life, as his sleeping mind made the trip to the buildings quick.  He began to look around for anyone he knew.  He didn't know that this was Janet's dream world.  Her nightmare world.  All he knew, was that he felt someone was watching him.