Page | 14 Cliff found himself at a loss for words. Rudeus Greyrat. It was a name he’d filed away in a dark corner of his mind, ever since the day Eris had rejected him. He’d never expected to hear it again in this place, spoken by a man he’d just come to respect. It was a harsh blow to his ego. The second of Cliff’s humiliations came at the hands of two older students. As one might expect, Cliff believed himself to be the single most powerful mage enrolled in the University. There were plenty of people who could overwhelm him in a close-range brawl, of course, but he thought himself clearly superior as a magician at the very least. He was a genuine prodigy, while the others were merely students. Even the professors were often no match for his skills. In short, he thought himself essentially invincible. It took all of two months for him to be rudely disabused of that notion. His defeat came at the hands of two beastfolk girls, said to be among the strongest students in the University. Their names were Linia and Pursena. It was hard to say who exactly provoked the fight. Cliff was a sharp-tongued young man, and he’d spoken to them with open arrogance. Linia and Pursena were less aggressive than they’d once been, but they weren’t about to let a cocky first-year talk down to them. Cliff didn’t even recall exactly what he’d said to finally set them off. But the fight itself he remembered very clearly. He’d attempted to cast an Advanced spell; Pursena had quickly fired off Beginner-level magic, interrupting his incantation and restricting his movements. Linia then drew in close and beat him black and blue. In the aftermath of this very public defeat, Cliff retreated to his room to cry in solitude. He told himself that it wasn’t a fair fight. He’d been outnumbered, after all. He hadn’t really lost.