(BOOK 1 in the Ermand Chisel series)
Since the time he had remembered, Ermand had to frequently encounter a series of sinister and blood-curdling dreams, and they weren't merely nightmares. When he receives an invitation to join Agledon Magic Univer...
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"So, what did he say?" Timothy asked, sipping a goblet of some blue drink.
"He asked me a few questions about myself and told me not to lie again..." Ermand paused before he continued drinking the blue liquid from the goblet on which his fingers were twirled around. He couldn't help stop thinking about why professor Lewcent wanted their conversation to remain a secret and too personal at the same time.
"He's a nice man. Chelsea said that he's the best Professor you could ever find in this college. Boy, I really wanted to see that Qorder's face that time," Charlie laughed with the soup in his mouth.
"Hey Odin, I haven't seen you today at the class. Where were you?" Timothy lightly blew on his spoon.
"At the end. The clan studies teachers seemed a bit strict."
"He's not that strict, he's just trying to lead us to the right way," Emile commented after finishing his white porcelain bowl of vegetable soup.
Charlie spilled out his soup through his nose and mouth. He excused himself and walked toward the washroom.
"Goody two-shoes," he muttered before he got up.
When he returned, he gently slammed his hands on the table. "You're impossible!"
"What?" Emile asked, placing a bowl, a plate and a goblet in a silver tray.
"This is the least I can expect from you," Charlie muttered, slicing a part of his fried beef steak.
"I don't understand you. I'm done eating. So, see you guys in the next class." Emile got up from the bench and walked to a counter and gave his tray to a slim man in his spotless white shirt.
"I've already had enough of the three hours I have spent in Chestnut's horrible theory class!"
"Is Clan studies all about theory?" Ermand asked, eating the last piece of vegetable in his soup.
"Yeah... I don't understand why everybody wants to learn this muck," Charlie sighed.
"It is because of the education ministry. My father works in the economy ministry, but he knows a few things about the other ministries. He said that they've made it mandatory for every course in our country. It's the same here in Tawarn I'm assuming," Timothy mentioned.
A boy's squeal echoed through the hall. Ermand turned straight behind Timothy and Charlie, who was seated opposite to him.
"What's he doing?" Charlie almost whispered.
A scraggy tall boy with rough black hair that hid his eyebrows, lay on the floor. He had a few blemishes on the corner of his pallor face. Damien walked near him, his polished black shoes on either side of the boy's face.
"Next time you walk, make sure you have both of your eyeballs fixed tight!" Damien shouted. Some students cringed at this and immediately grabbed their silver trays to escape the scene.
