[Earlier in the Principal's office]
Richard leaned forward, holding a crude bone mug that had gone through the test of time.
"Want some?"
Thomas, who sat across from him, shook his head to decline.
"Your loss." Richard poured himself another drink from a blurred bottle. The liquid was transparent, with a sharp smell.
After a long gulp, he set the mug down. "Out with it."
Tom sighed as he rested his rod on his lap. His expression grew serious.
"What do you think about the battle?"
"The Vermith held back more," Richard said simply.
"Hmmm," Tom muttered even as his grip tightened on his rod. "I disagree… she is just bad at her skills."
Richard laughed. "Don't let a Vermith hear that…"
Taking another sip. Richard's jaw tightened. "Isn't that the problem?"
Shifting in the wooden chair. Hard lines formed on Tom's forehead. "Yes and No."
Richard's eyes widened as he laid back on his own chair. His fingers still curled on the mug's handle.
