Two Hatchings had seen Galeia standing alone, her hopes heavily sinking her into scotching sands. However, as she’d stared at the empty shells and the drying egg goo hardening on the ground a sense of resolve had likewise solidified around her heart, accompanied by a kind of weary relief as she watched this path fade from her future. Her fate, no longer left to the fickle decisions of dragons, was to be sent to the Harper Hall.

Unlike the last two turns of her life, from then on time flew. Her transfer to the Harper Hall was quickly arranged, and then in a flash she was packing her things, saying a sentimental goodbye to her friend Winderick, and then she was off on the back of a feisty young green (at the request of her father who hadn’t wished her to waste time traveling by ground).

Also unlike her previous life, her first fortnight at the hall was far more difficult than all of her Candidacy combined. This was, tragically, her own fault. Not many new apprentices arrived on dragonback. Not many came with two firelizards, including a bronze, and then a sevenday later accidentally gained two more flits when a some journeyman she’d been advising how to Impress had nearly scared the whole clutch Between and she’d fed a blue and brown to save them from death. And finally, no other apprentice might have ever been so unapologetic or humble about any of this. The fact that she usually went barefoot in her free time, wore but the plainest clothing, and often bore a few scratches and a harried look that came from handling the new additions to her fair might have saved her from “putting on airs” as it was said. However, any reproach (either made in jest or jealousy) was met with a cold stare and an occasional sharp rebuttal – also accompanied by the annoyed hissing of her firelizards.

The heart of the matter was that she was, well, nervous, and maybe even a little scared. For the first time in her life she was friendless and - outside of the classrooms - completely out of her element. Her only moments of true peace were either spent with her firelizards, or music. Luckily there was music everywhere in the Hall, and Galeia got along with her peers best when bent over her guitar or pitching her voice into a strong melody. Eventually, an uneasy truce was formed over bars of music with her classmates. It would have been a just and apropos tale to say that loneliness forced a new sense of humility on Galeia - that she shrugged her defensive self-assurance and made amends to those that had suffered her tongue and made friends to follow out of that new spirit. However, justice is rarely so clearly acting, and Galeia proved too clever for her own good.