The morning sun blazed high over the academy's great dueling arena, sending the grains of sand underfoot shimmering under its light.
Down on the main platform, Arlo and Noah stood side by side with several others, waiting for the arrival of Professor Oliver.
And with nothing to do as they waited, they turned to the most inexpensive way of passing the time. Conversation.
Arlo glanced sideways at Noah. "So," he said casually, crossing his arms, "I heard Master Nigel dropped by your room."
Noah gave him a flat look. "Word spreads fast."
Arlo smirked. "Hard not to when the old man rolls around campus with a rack of clothes bigger than a wagon. What did he want?"
"Clothes for the coronation," Noah replied simply. "I've been invited."
That caught Arlo's attention. His eyebrows rose. "You? Invited to the coronation?"
