Michael's mood soured for the rest of the lesson, his thoughts tangled and unfocused. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't concentrate—not with the searing glare burning into the back of his head and the constant whispers rippling through the room.
He couldn't understand why he had reacted the way he did. Normally, he would have been more careful—measured. Perhaps he would've even tried to placate the aggressor, if only to deescalate the situation and avoid drawing attention. That was how he'd always handled things before.
But this time was different.
Not only had he refused to back down… he'd actively provoked the guy.
The introduction to ancient languages provided no relief from his thoughts. If anything, it made his frustration worse. The material turned out to be far more complex than he'd anticipated. According to Professor Gabe, there were more than ten recorded languages, yet none of the examples mentioned resembled the strange script on Michael's scrolls.
