Making changes was hard, but trying to do so while being constantly reminded of the mistakes that got you to the need for them was somehow worse. Nauleth was tired of two years of pigeon-holing, in and out of class. He knew and finally accepted some things in his casting and in his attitude that needed effort-filled adjustment, but it was not an over-night process. Even if it had not been Nathaniel's intention for the older boy to find himself berated by a professor (who didn't bother to ask questions before commenting) and dumped with unnecessary responsibility (that exploded into something unexpected), it was enough to leave a sour taste in his mouth like a miscast spell. If this clocking ambitious boy was sincerely friendly and not hiding something humiliating up his sleeve for later, the only way he figured he would find out was with a good duel.

It had worked before, after all.

First, however, Naul needed to focus. It was really the brush with a desperate Bronley that had been the most disturbing part of the day. His hunger for punishment and his baiting had been unexpectedly tempting. Now, the older student needed an outlet, a means of dishing out what he knew he couldn't have done properly in the Infirmary.

Deliberately, as if to stare one more time at the scorched grass and withered sign, Nauleth walked at a reasonable pace back towards the Lawn.

Whistling a tuneless song, Nathaniel strode through the Lawn at a leisurely pace on the way to the West Gardens. He didn't have time to finish thinking:I hope that Nauleth feels better if I give him some space, when something in the back of his mind snapped on. Whirling around, Nathaniel stared at the way that he had come. Off in the distance, he could taste Nauleth's angry and determined field heading right towards him. Very faint, almost completely deluded through the air, but it was unmistakably him.

So it comes to this, Nathaniel thought bitterly. And we had gotten off to such a good start. I don't want to fight him, it's a waste of time. But if he tries anything, I'll have no choice in the matter. Stopping completely, Nathaniel faced the direction from which Nauleth was stalking towards him.

Frowning with distaste, the young man stood with his legs spread out to shoulder width, crossed his arms, and waited patiently for the inevitable.

Athrym followed casually behind Nauleth, finding herself rather excited about the idea of watching him duel. At least, this way, she could see how his casting process went instead of focusing on maiming him. If looks could kill, the one she threw over his shoulder at Nathaniel was as good as death.

Walking closer to Naul, she brushed his shoulder in a silent encouragement and found herself a spot to sit on the sideline. Seating herself comfortably side saddle like in the grass, she leant on one arm, waiting.

As Nathaniel could feel Nauleth drawing closer, he began to pick out Athrym's field as well. Nauleth's field felt aggressive, while Athrym's felt excited. So it's just the two of us, if it comes to that, he thought. Even though he disliked fighting when unnecessary, Nathaniel sized up Nauleth. On the surface to any passerby, it looked like the young galdori was stretching his legs and arms with calm and happy ease. He reached for his satchel strap and tightened it closer to his person. He took off his glasses and put them away. They were mere magnifying reading glasses, he wouldn't need them in a fight.



Nathaniel stood impassively, with his arms folded and his fiery gold gaze meeting Nauleth's.

((d'oh. ok, i can accept that. have a safe trip!))

By the time the older student was within speaking distance, Nauleth had actually managed to calm down quite a bit. He had very little reason to be angry so much as curious, even though the nagging, lingering frustration was still present like a faint bitter flavor in the air. He stopped only a handful of feet from Nathaniel, facial expression caught between deadpan and thoughtful. While he tended to relish too much in breaking people down, he really just wanted to see if the blond boy before him was all talk or not. It was more like a test, only the scales were weighted with a bit of aggressive doubt.

He'd never had an audience before, at least not one that was actually there for his benefit. It was exciting, but also added a hint of pressure. It was interesting, in a good way.

Without speaking or looking at the younger student, he unbuttoned his vest and removed it, tossing it out of the way after folding it neatly. Rolling up his sleeves and adjusting his suspenders, he huffed at his bangs before drawing himself up to his full height and clearing his throat.

"It's a habit of mine to ask those I choose to duel if they have any rules or requests." Naul's voice was without malice, but he was already gathering his field with unbidden anticipation, "Considering we all have plans for the evening, I'm going to have to say I have no desire to spend the rest of day in the Infirmary. So, let's be at least marginally considerate, shall we?"

He smirked, dark eyes cold but honest, "Other than that, I'm not so talented with setting – or keeping – limitations. You?"

Nathaniel was pleased to see that the older student had calmed down quite a bit. More rational. I see it all now, he only used earlier's incident as an excuse to fight me. With the history that he's got, the only real quick way of seeing if someone is trustworthy is the direct way. I mean him no harm, but if this is the only way..... his thought proces trailed off as he buttoned his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Setting everything with his satchel in a neat pile, he stood back to up to face the salt-and-pepper-haired boy.



Nathaniel smiled broadly, something primal stirring in his chest. I can't believe I actually feel excited about this.
Taking a deep lungful of cheerful air, he met Nauleth's gaze dead on.
"Are you sure you want to resort to dueling? Other ways may take longer, but I can understand why you want this. You need something concrete now. You're not even pissed off so much about Professor Dillium, it was just an excuse. If this is the only suitable way, so be it," chuckled with fire erupting behind his eyes. His field crackled and coiled around him in excitement. "Nauleth Siordanti. I, Nathaniel Jason Hawthorne Robinson, do call your bluff. I agree to the honor system of no serious injury. After all, the Circus doesn't happen very often. And I'd rather not miss it because of duel wounds, and if one of us knocks out the other, he is to revive the other as a show of good sportsmanship," He paused, flexing his arms, spreading his feet, and pulling his field in tight, like the string of a crossbow. "And I would like to add on other condition. Don't you dare hold back."

"Oh, I'm not so sure I can promise you anything about good sportsmanship, but you're welcome to all I've got."

Nauleth grinned, lopsided and sarcastic. He had gathered his field, calmly and carefully, for he really didn't consider this anything worth getting angry over, regardless of how the blond boy's light-hearted naivete was out of his comfort zone. Besides, this was almost a sort of test between himself and the mona – could he really change?

Stepping back a bit and raising his hands slightly, he decided that there had been enough talk. It was time for some action. He wasn't about to wait. Today would just have to be a day for experiments entirely.

Focusing his field, Naul took a few steps back before beginning to recite his first spell. The older student thought a nice twist on an old standby would make for a nice beginning, and so with a thin smile he intoned the monite for both Anesthetic and Dullness, weaving them together for mind and body, seeking to slow down the younger student on more than one level. He kept malice and impatience from his casting, wading into the waters of politeness in his words.

Letting everything extraneous go from his mind, he looked at the duel as it was not unlike a grandmaster considering his next chess move. He recognized the opening words for Anesthetic with an extra weaving-in of Dullness. A bold first move, considered Nathaniel.

Without hesitation, Nathaniel politely called upon the Mona for a Adrenaline mixed with a Wakefulness to counteract Nauleth's hybrid spell, asking to wait until Nauleth finished speaking.

Immediately after, speaking in his perpetually polite voice that he always spoke the Mona with, Nathaniel spoke his counterattack of Nausea.

Nauleth's field warmed, the mona seemingly enjoying his ingenuity and unusual politeness. His hands tingled for a moment before the spell hit Nathaniel. Naul could have sworn that he felt a sensation like two hands upon his back. It was like someone was smiling at him, somewhere.

Nathaniel felt himself grow tired and slow for a moment, mouth still moving with his counter. The mona responded favourably to the adrenaline spell, the shift from sluggishness to bright awareness was almost painful. A prickling sensation spread over his skin and he could taste gin, of all things, upon his tongue. The wakefulness spell was less effective, since he wasn't asleep as such, merely slowing down. Nonetheless he felt mildly more awake, though still slightly slow in his responses. He continued casting.

The nausea spell took, leaving Nathaniel smelling an ocean that wasn't there, a sign of a successful cast. Nathaniel's field buzzed disinterestedly, almost boredly, as though it wanted more of something. The need to vomit hit Nauleth, though he had the opportunity to resist the urge if he wanted to or give in and feel better. A slight run off left Nathaniel feeling queasy himself, as though he had been sitting on a boat just a little too long.


((Hey Nath, please try to keep it down to one spell at a time, you've cast your counter and then another spell, usually you should wait for mod response to the first before moving onto the second. This gives other players time to respond. Spell outcomes are partly determined by dice rolls, here.))

The older student probably would've enjoyed a moment to savor that sensation, realizing that sometimes unusual efforts actually had equally unusual rewards. It was a short-lived lesson in what could be his if he was willing.


He really disliked that spell; it brought back a rush of past sensations. To be the target of such a spell immediately after lunch was an especially low sort of thing that Naul would almost have considered strictly in his personal sphere of activities, but apparently he was not the only one with a bit of a cruel bent on occasion. Sensing the runoff, he knew he was not alone in his sudden wave of nausea, even if the effects of Nathaniel's spell would not be so strong upon the caster himself.

At first, Naul was tempted to resist, refusing to glance in Athrym's direction with all the knowledge of how awkward the scene was about to get.

However, on a dark, frustrated whim, it was just too tempting to use something so unfortunate to his advantage. With a stifled groan, the boy stumbled forward with the kind of speed only those about to toss their lunch could ever muster towards his slightly younger opponent. Naul surrendered with only a bit of lingering embarrassment to the effects of the spell, aiming with a twinge of nostalgia for Nathaniel's shoes.

With a paled expression full of lingering nausea and cruel satisfaction, the older student looked up from the remnants the best the Cafeteria had to offer and the poor younger student's shoes and the scorched grass of the Lawn.

He grinned, almost coyly, close as he was to the blond boy now, and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"Ah. Memories." He chuckled hoarsely, taking a few uneven steps back from his new mess.

Without waiting for a response, Nauleth regathered his field and stayed his temper as best he could, speaking the monite for Olfactory Assault, carefully twisting in Skin Crawl towards the end with an almost perceptible delicacy, fully intent on playing off of his own lost lunch and Nathaniel's immediacy to it all.

Nauleth's field expanded like a volatile solid. He could feel the power coursing through his body as he successfully cast the olfactory assault spell. The skin crawl was less successful, feeling more like a whimper than a bang to Naul's heightened senses.

Nath felt the change immediately. The unpleasantness of the vomit on his shoes went from mildly disgusting to unbearable. It was as though his head was in a vice and he was smelling things man was not meant to smell. An unpleasant though not unendurable tingling also ran across his skin. He would have recognised it as a moderate skin crawl, enough to feel uncomfortable but not enough to conjure mental images of beetles under his skin. His head hurt painfully and concentration was difficult.

Face twisting in disgust, Nathaniel couldn't help but be impressed with how Nauleth turned around his attack. Still though, he needed to stave off the Olfactory Assault before he lost his lunch as well from the intense multiplication of the smell.

With lightning speed, his hand dove into his pants pocket and yanked out a handkerchief. Perfectly aware of how ridiculous he looked, he took it and rammed each end up each nostril, blocking out all smells.

No sooner than the awful sensation of bugs crawling all over him. Gritting his teeth, he concentrated on not reacting to it. Just like an itch, just like an itch.

With practiced calm, he jump back away from Nauleth. He felt his field's impatience, so he decided to kick it up a notch. Focusing everything in Nauleth's direction, he shouted the Monite for Soundwave.

For the first time in Nathaniel's life, his field fell silent. It was as though a thousand disapproving stares were pointed at him, from all directions. His sense of smell amplified even further, leaving him with a lasting mental imprint of snot, cotton and puke.

The wind stopped dead. For a moment, nothing happened. Not to Naul or Nathan. Nathaniel felt cold.

Then Nathaniel felt like he was five feet in the air and sailing into a tree. This is because he was, in fact, sailing into a tree. His head hit the trunk with a loud, cracking sound. Blood dribbled down his neck. He heard nothing but silence and tasted nothing but disapproval. It was not a good feeling.

The mona buzzed at him, like an angry housewife.

Athrym watched the vomiting incident with slight disgust and a lot of humor. Trust Nauleth to turn something like that into an attack!



The blonde froze, sitting on her knees. She shook her head.

"Oh, you clocking fool..."



Athrym rose to her feet slowly, unsure of what was going to happen. She pulled her field close to her, just in case she needed it.



The blue eyed girl looked at Nath, then at Naul. She didn't know what to do. The boy should never had tried the spell, even Athrym wouldn't try it without a little practice.

Ugh.......clocking he-......damn ti....

Between the pain knifing into the base of his skull, the nauseating smells of Nauleth's lunch, and now the Mona being angry with him. Stupidstupidstupidstupid....I thought it would work.....thought Nathaniel cringing at the pain. Don't go under, whatever you do.....

Struggling with everything he had, he painstakingly crawled back up onto all fours. Seconds snaked by in slow motion, a second feeling like hours.

Unbidden, tears from pain and sorrow fell from his eyes. "I'm so sorry......" he muttered. He was in shock at how angry the Mona were. He had never screwed up like this before. This is what happens when you get too into it. I wasn't thinking. Nathaniel clumsily drug an arm across his face, rubbing away his tears.

Gathering his will, he pushed himself up onto his knees. He could see Nauleth and Athrym through foggy vision. Despite his condition, he couldn't help but find the whole situation was hilarious. He barked a hoarse laugh at himself. Gingerly, he felt up and down his body for any broken bones. The infirmary was the last thing he wanted to end up in.

Finally reaching up behind his skull, he could feel the bloody cuts on his scalp. With tones full of sorrow and pleading, Nathaniel uttered Heal Tissue.

The older boy's eyes narrowed, recognizing the spell. He was unsure if he was prepared to be on the receiving end of something like that.



"Clocking hell." Nauleth hissed through his teeth, face darkening into something well beyond a scowl. It was, honestly, almost worry. He knew the feeling in his stomach and winced at the slow burn across the left side of his face. Apparently, the mona was almost as full of old memories as he was today.




The older boy said a string of terrible things under his breath that were hopefully not audible at all beyond mumbling. His face softened, one side at a time. He knew how this went; the angry feeling of the mona brought a tightness to his chest. It had been a long time since he'd felt a remarkably similar, equally dangerous resistance.

Like an old scab that had been picked at, the disapproving buzz in the air stung not only his face, but his heart. Nauleth had hoped he was done dealing with this crap, but he found himself unable to move, biting his lip, color draining from his disturbed, expressionless face.


The older boy hovered, almost indecisively, torn between letting Nathaniel deal with the consequences of his own mistakes – as he had – or offering a hand as a more humble and friendly gesture. He hated making such terrible decisions. He spoke chidingly as he approached, finally managing a smirk, "The price of unfocused ambition is often a bit more painful than expected. Your advantage, it seems, is that your fervor feels a bit more innocent – or at least studiously ignorant – than mine ever was."


He stopped in front of the younger student, hands in his pockets. There was no judgment or mocking or malice in his tone, but his voice was heavy with something distant and painful, "Maybe you should give your conversation with the mona a rest and let us take you to the infirmary ... Twice in one day - it'll be such a treat!"

Inwardly, Naul loathed the thought of taking on any more blame for the day, but ... at the same time, he really did sympathize. The dull ache in his chest prevented him from pouncing on the boy's mistake, even if some part of him wanted to.

He stuck out a hand with obvious effort, eyes cold, "Up with you before I change my clocking mind."

Athrym watched Naul talking to Nath. It was without malice, and she realised that a few years ago, Nath and Naul could have been the same person right now. Well, not quite, but obviously the older boy could sympathize. Picking up her bag, she walked over and looked down at the injured boy.

"Foolish clocking kenser." She said in an icy voice.

"You have to learn that mona are not playthings, they are beings. Trying to cast a spell beyond your level is insulting. Its like giving an infant the crown." Pausing, she looked conflicted. This was the time to stride away and laugh, but she wouldn't. Naul wasn't.

Everything snapped into better focus as Nauleth's voice pierced Nathaniel's painful fog. He honestly forgot that they were even there. Clocking.....now they're going to gloat..... he swam.

But Nauleth didn't laugh. Or smile. Or anything of the kind. His face flushed and scrunched in frustration. He pities me! He pities because I'm such a clocking idiot! What the hell was I thinking with Sound Wave?! I knew the dangers.....I thought I was ready.........Damn it.

A shred of his right of mind came back into the picture. ......he doesn't pity me because I'm weaker than him......it's because I messed up just like him...... With a stab in the gut from Athrym's insult and bleary eyes, he looked at Nauleth's extended hand.

With nothing left to his pride, he groaned and grasped the hand. It took a huge effort to pull himself up.

"I practiced before," he mumbled thickly. "I pushed myself to get a handle on that spell and others. I just took too much onto myself...the mona don't trust me enough.....No infirmaries, it'll ruin tonight." He felt dizzy from standing.

Out of nowhere, he laughed loudly. "Do you know what the irony is? I didn't even want to fight you in the first place......ugh....." He clutched his head, taking deep breathes to help steady himself.

"I shouldn't have tried a clocking Sound Wave on you......I don't even hate you," he haphazardly finished, ignoring Athrym's biting comments.

Nathaniel's healing spell did not take. His backlash was equivalent to a brail and it would take a few hours before he would be capable of casting a spell. Had he taken a moment to feel the field around him he would have noticed something akin to a silent cold shoulder.

The mona around him felt used. Like Naul and so many others before him, he was going to have to prove himself. In many ways he was lucky, he hadn't suffered a stroke or lost a limb as he so easily could have. The tricky part would be saying sorry and meaning it. Finding the communion that he had been missing before.

The older boy smirked in satisfied agreement as he helped Nathaniel stand, "It may not sound nice, but she's got a point." He was secretly glad she didn't laugh, if only because he might have taken it personally. Nauleth knew that while he and this other boy had very little else in common, what just happened was familiar enough to render him incapable of being his normal, derogatory self. For now.


"Maybe," the older boy's voice was hard-edged, "It's not about practice or pushing yourself. I was told – recently, in fact – that as long as I continue to treat the mona as tools or as a means to an end, all my studies will have been in vain. Perhaps now is an appropriate time to pass that on. To you."


Nauleth scowled, almost insulted, "This wasn't a fight." He slid his hand back into his pocket, watching the blond boy regain his footing through his white-streaked bangs. There was a hint of something heavy in his voice, and although it wasn't anger or malice, it was almost calculating and scientific, "It was a test. I wanted to see if you were really just all talk ... or if you actually could put your money where your mouth was. I see now that you're somewhere on the road between both."


Dark eyes narrowing, he exhaled with dissatisfaction through is teeth, "You shouldn't have cast Soundwave because it was over your head, regardless of your opinion of me. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not particularly concerned – most of the time – about whether or not people like me. It seems to me like you should be more concerned about how you feel for the mona, but I'm only speaking from ... personal experience."

Students and professors really only knew the outside events surrounding the older boy's so-called accident two years ago. No one had ever bothered to ask about what happened personally, other than to dish out their own opinions or discipline or snide comments. No one except for those who had been involved in his healing probably even knew the extent of the backlash, save for the physical reminders in his hair and on his face. It was all left to hearsay and rumor. Since no one had bothered to ask, ever, Naul had never bothered to share. It was just part of the stigma, he had assumed.

He would've said something now, standing near the boy and almost painfully aware of the chill from the mona between them, but he kept his mouth shut. It just wasn't something he was capable of blurting out.

"Let one of us see your head, then. It's not like you're going to be useful in fixing anything for yourself now. Not for a long while, at least." He said, chidingly again, as if talking to one of his younger siblings.

Slowly, the fog of pain clouding his mind cleared and subsided into a dull throb. It was getting easier to think clearly, and with the pain decreasing, it became easier to smell the puke still caked on his shoes. And now it throbbed harder because Nauleth was telling him something he's known since he first got here.

"Let's get something straight. While I thank you for passing on your particular wisdom on this matter to me, I already know that endless studies and practicing won't amount to anything if the Mona doesn't trust me. And I have never used them as a means for an end. What I just did was a rash impulse purchase and nothing more," he glared at the girl and the boy. He finished with an even tone. "They have every right to be angry with me."

He took another deep breath to steady himself further, leaning against the truck of the tree he hit for support. Something about the backlash jarred things around a little within Nathaniel. He continued glaring at the two in front of him.

"Be careful with what you assume about me. I knew that this was your logical way of getting to know me a little better. As you said, a test. And if you bother to get to know me, you will know that I am definitely...." he said matching Nauleth's neutral tone of voice. His eyes flashed like an explosion. "....not full of talk. "

Nathaniel stopped talking, with nothing he felt like saying on the matter...for now. He could see that Nauleth was holding back on saying more about this too. In his eyes was a.....hint of....empathy? Perhaps another time he'll feel like telling me.

He was definitely starting to feel better, despite his sorry situation with the Mona. Please, he silently whispered. I want to make it all up to you.

Nathaniel managed a shadow of a grin at Nauleth's offer to heal him. Maybe.....my first real friend....? He nodded slightly in acceptance of his offer.

"That was a clever way of turning around my Nausea."

Naul's face slowly twisted into insulted disgust as the boy spoke. Taking a step back and holding up his hands in a dismissive manner, he all-but growled, "If you already know everything, then you certainly don't need my help. And by the way you talk, you're correct. I have every right to be angry with you. You really are a clocking idiot if you expect me to believe everything that just came out of your mouth. I don't need you to patronize me like everyone else. You can learn from your own clocking mistakes from now on."

He clenched his jaw briefly, stung by the conceited rebuttal to what he considered an offer of trusted confidence in his personal experiences. This was another reason why he kept people at arm's length. Most students were obviously too full of themselves to recognize their own mistakes, "Your problem has nothing to do with the mona." He sneered with obvious venom.


The older student was incensed, field seething with his frustration. There were things he didn't talk about, and now he was painfully reminded why he kept his thoughts to himself. Self-loathing was written on his face, "My assumptions about you were anything but incorrect. They usually aren't."


Nathaniel found himself speaking to Nauleth's back, for he had turned away, furious. Without even a glance back, the older boy looked at Athrym tiredly, unable to hide a bit of hurt in his voice, "Let's go. He obviously can take care of himself."

Shit....his face fell. He didn't want to admit his mistake! He now recognized his poor choice of words. They obviously hit right next to the heart, and he didn't mean it like that. Me and my damn pride. He was trying to open up to me! And I refused what friendly advice he had to offer me.....I'm such an ass. What do I do now? If I let him walk away, one of the very few people who might have ever been my friend with be my enemy. A lance of shame pushed through his heart. He wanted to be my friend! And here I was too proud to swallow some criticism!

He clenched his fists. I've got to return the favor of opening up!

He looked up from the ground where he was staring in dumb shock. He could see Nauleth and Athrym walking away in disgust. And rightly so.
Clenching his teeth, and bracing himself, he gathered his courage and voice.

Stumbling as fast as he could after them, he raggedly shouted: "Nauleth, wait!! I'm sorry!"