It was the last day before the tournament, and I had just passed through the main hall to check the situation of the teams scheduled to fight in the arena. More than half of them had already been crossed off the list. I felt a quiet satisfaction, knowing my disinformation campaign had worked. On the other hand, I was perfectly aware that the reduction in competitors wasn’t nearly enough to decisively sway the outcome of tomorrow’s battles.

  I hurried toward the enormous sundial in front of the Academy, where Elesya was already waiting for me to go over the final adjustments to our plan. The shadow of the gnomon showed that noon had long passed. At this hour, most students were either at lunch or resting.

  We sat down on a stone bench behind the sundial. A gust of wind brought with it the salty smell of the nearby seaweed-strewn shore, but neither of us paid it any attention, lost as we were in thought.

  “Elesya,” I began, cutting straight to the point, “our disinformation campaign has had decent results, but not enough. Many students have withdrawn by now, but there are still seven teams left.”

  “We’ve done everything we could, Sam,” she replied, her voice betraying a hint of tension. “Let’s just hope we can handle the rest.”

  Unfortunately, I didn’t share her optimism.

  “There are still too many opponents. I don’t think I’ll be able to withstand more than one or two magical duels. We need to find a way to make the others drop out as well.”

  “And what do you suggest?” Elesya asked, fatigue flickering in her eyes.

  I could tell how much harder it was becoming for us to act. The past few weeks had been draining. Too many important things had happened in too short a time since we had signed up for the tournament.

  I stayed silent for a moment, then finally answered:

  “I don’t have a clear idea yet, but I think the students need a practical demonstration of my powers. Something spectacular, frightening enough to make them refuse to face us in the arena. Maybe we should try something tonight...”

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  “I don’t think I can help you,” Elesya cut in. “Tonight I’m going to a small party for the first-years, and I really don’t want to miss it. It’s by the seaside, if you must know.”

  The information caught me a little off guard. So Elesya didn’t completely neglect her social life.

  I thought for a moment. Small parties were held weekly in Wyrmlithus—or even more often, depending on the campus mood. Practically no excuse for celebration was ever missed by the Academy’s youth. The beginning or middle of a month, a forgotten birthday, a good grade on a hard exam, or a Friday as dreary as any Tuesday—anything could spark inspiration for the students of Wyrmlithus. Sometimes, even the mere fact that two days had passed without a party was reason enough to host another.

  Not even a crushing failure in a class was ignored: it could easily serve as an excuse for a consolation party.

  Beyond the public parties, there were also the secret ones, organized by the student fraternities. What happened there was the stuff of legend, rivaling the myths of Olympus—but only the “initiated” knew the actual details.

  Of course, I had never been invited to such gatherings. Despite my evolution from non-mage to the rank of “mad and dangerous mage,” the students’ attitude toward me hadn’t changed much. True, no one dared harm me anymore, but their hostility remained.

  Elesya, however, probably wasn’t talking about a run-of-the-mill party, but rather a more important event, one the first-years didn’t want to miss. I suspected it was the kind of party where newcomers got the chance to make themselves known to the upper years.

  “So, have the spring breakers arrived already?” I asked with mild irony. “Is this the grand opening of the party season?”

  Without meaning to, my words came out more sarcastic than I had intended.

  Elesya blushed slightly, probably thinking I saw her as just another hedonistic student who devoted all her free time to partying.

  “I don’t plan on going to such events except on very rare occasions,” she said quickly, eager to dispel any doubt. “Studying takes priority for me and consumes most of my time. Still, every student has to attend parties once in a while to build social connections—otherwise, they’d become... invisible to the others.”

  I immediately understood what she meant. Party-going was an unwritten rule if you wanted to be accepted in the Wyrmlithus community. A sort of rite of passage. Without it, you practically didn’t exist to them. In truth, Elesya was trying to strike a fragile balance between fun and study.

  Suddenly, a light flickered in my mind.

  “By the seaside, you said? You’ve just given me an idea. Our goals don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  I explained the outline of my thought.

  “So, you want to ruin my party,” Elesya said with a touch of reproach.

  “Only partly. And besides, Elesya, weigh the importance of things. What do you want more: the tournament prize money, or the party?”

  Elesya thought for a few moments before deciding:

  “Both. We’ll do exactly as you said.”