His other classes went about the same, much to his relief. He had to apologize and grovel a bit, but no one suggested he leave school over it yet. Tor went back to his room for lunch, ravenous already, even though he'd eaten just a few hours, five, before. Half way to the room, in the center of the cobblestone commons Trice and Sara found him.

The blond girl smiled at him, seeming friendly, but Trice stood facing partially away, refusing to make eye contact. She crossed her arms and huffed.

“Ready for the test? If you die, I swear I'm never talking to you again.” The words were funny, but the tone was so serious no one even chuckled. She sounded ready to cry.

Tor wasn't really ready; he had to grab the fields from the room. With a bit of math he decided to take half the metal pieces and the big wooden template. That would leave him enough for his friends if the others were needed for testing. Taking a deep breath, he walked out, not knowing where they were going at all. No one had given him a location for it.

Sara patted him on the back, her hand lingering for about fifteen seconds. Trice didn't react to it, so Tor figured it wasn't outside of what was proper really. Finally the pretty blond spoke.

“Oh, it's in our dining hall. You get to have lunch with us today…” Sara looked at him and winked.

It made sense that they ate daily, he'd seen them do it after all, but he hadn't been aware that they had a dining hall like his section had. The buildings were smaller, and set back from the rest of the school enough that no one would have ever gone into one by mistake. The walk wasn't that long, even if they had to walk at his pace, which still kind of limped along. Tor almost wished he had something better than browns to wear, since the girls both wore blacks, and really nice ones at that, made of fine, airy materials. Meant to keep them cool in the late summer heat? Neither looked hot, no sweat or anything, so they probably wore their amulets for that. He did. Otherwise even the school would have been too warm for him. Never the blistering heat of the Capital, but hot enough to annoy and make him damp in all the wrong places.