The morning afterwards, I was sifting through a pile of rubbish that my employers refer to as "research materials" in the office when I heard a light tap upon the door. The shadows of a person moved beneath the small gap below the door and an age old tingling found itself at the base of my spine. Sometimes I have better mastery over my nerves and other times they can be as willful as the winds themselves. Dealing with people can be quite a taxing chore for me but that morning had become so monotonous that I welcomed the unexpected visitors with a degree of relish. I stepped over piles of scribbles and teetering towers of books, zigzagging my way to the front door. Muffled voices can be heard as I approached closer.


    "Are you certain someone is here?" came one voice, a young woman''s. I answered the query by opening the door ajar. A duo of students from the College of the Arts and Humanities, evident by their dark robes as opposed to the simple trousers and vest of the Abbotts. Castellans, as my fellow abbots call them, for much of their colleges are situated within the Castle itself.


    "Oh," said the female of the pair. A girl with short blonde hair that was cut short and with length just about her fae-like jawline. It was a rather peculiar haircut for me, coming from a land where women prefer their hair waist-long and flowing. Still, I must admit that the style was rather....appealing. "Are the professor''s in?" she asked, belatedly a second later, quite surprised at seeing my presence.


    "I''m afraid they are away on business and would not return for the foreseeable future. Can I take a message?" I answered diplomatically.


    "Oh...," she said once more, eyes off to the side towards her companion, a taller than average young man with bullish features but possessing of keen intelligent eyes. The fellow was hard to believe to be in the studies of the Arts were it not for his attire. His physicality would have him more suited for the varsity league where his frame would be the prized pupil of any instructor.


    "...Uhm," her eyes tend to wander a lot, I noticed. "It''s just....just that we were wondering if we could extend an invitation to the professors'' for dinner, me and others of our class that is."


    "And to whom are we addressing?" cut in the other student, the large young man.


    "I am the professors'' assistant," I simply said as a matter-of-factly.


    However, that simple statement seemed to have reeled them in, for the apparent surprise in their visage. Words tried to form in their mouths but failed to conjure past their throats. I quirked an eyebrow at their reaction but said further nothing. A few seconds passed before their retained their composure.


    "I was not aware that they had one. Many applied but the Professor Saville said they were not taking any," said the young man, whose name I have yet to know. That was just poor decorum on my part, I realized.


    My reply came in the form of a shrug, "I will be certain to pass along the invitation once both professors arrive, and forgive me for my rudeness, I have yet to ask your names, madame and sir...?"


    "This is Zelia Alphine," the young man gestured to his companion. "And I am Irvin Mulvahil. We undertook a course in both the professor''s class last semester. It was enlightening. Out of curiosity, are there any more openings as an assistant?"


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    There was a crass reply ready to fire in my mind already. The position they so covet only entails cleaning up after the two eccentric scholars and it was a position of that of a glorified servant. But I anticipated such a reply would dour the mood of all party involved and continued my line of diplomatic answers. In other words, just lie. But like all good lies, one that has a grain of truth in them.


    "I''m afraid that is up to the professors , they have not shared such inclinations since last we talked. And truth be told, my employment beneath them leans on a whim. You have met them. They can be quite.....eccentric."


    That seemed to placate the two. Well, mostly the young woman, Zelia, who was most understanding and was just as eager to extract herself from this exchange. She seemed the more socially awkward of the two despite being pretty. Mr. Mulvahil on the other hand seems to take my word for it but tries to conceal a measure of disappointment at the lack of possibility of being taken as an assistant. With the conversation drawing to a close, both parties exited and departed amicably. I felt rather good about myself in dealing that particular duty. Strangers can be quite unpredictable and difficult and with my duty as assistant finds me in such position in relaying news about my employers disposition in such matters.


    I had just shut the door but Zelia and Irvin had not walked far away nor their voice so distant that I had no difficulty listening on their exchange.


    "What will we tell the others? Odis was so certain the professors would be here! He already sent out invitations!" jittered Zelia. Despite her dainty features, it seems she''s quite excitable with those she is familiar with. Would not have guessed it judging from our initial interaction.


    "Zelia, dear, it is not the end of the world. We would simply have to cancel or maybe just think of some other form of entertainment for the evening," I noted a genuine warmth in Irvin''s voice that was not present when we spoke as Irvin allayed Zelia''s fears.


    "Oh Irv! Odis will not like this! Not one bit!"


    Then they moved out of earshot, more words were exchanged but they had completely been muffled as their footsteps turned around the corner of the hall. This was a rather bold move for the sophomores, inviting two college professors to what I presume is a dinner party. From what I gathered from Bert and the others, such invitation, if ever taken up by the residing professor, is only given to clear favorites or promising students. It was to be an ostentatious event in any budding socialite that wish to expand their circle and popularity in not just the teachers purview but with their fellow students as well. Garner relationship points and good repute as it were, a foundation for future comradery that goes beyond the walls of academia and into society. A good way of establishing business relations as well.


    A dinner party, I thought. A bold move indeed.


    Be that as it may, Saville and Spencer never spoke much of their students or their classes, always on about their research and findings. They gave me the impression that they merely took to teaching courses as to placate the requirements for Lonethorn professors to doll out classes.


    But it seems this Odis fellow''s efforts are all for naught as the two scholars are halfway across the realm attending symposium one city after the other. They would not be here for the better part of the month. That fellow would have to find another notable personage to be the center of his dinner party. Just then I had a sinking feeling in my stomach as I realized the way the cards are stacked before me. But I quickly dispelled it.


    Only for it to come back a few seconds later. Surely, it will not come to that? If not the professors, then maybe the coveted assistant then? It was a ludicrous idea. They were sophomores and I was but a budding freshman. Not even that, I was not properly enrolled in the school registry yet. Finally, with my hunger growing tantamount, I banished such a troubling and anxiety inducing thought with the idea of pie and mash and may be even a shepherd''s pie for second helpings. The mind can turn so quickly into oneself, as I had learned growing up. Best to sink my needless worries into food, I thought then as I locked up the office for luncheon.


    Only as it turns out, later in the day and much to my fears, that my worries were not needless after all.