Wanemyre didn’t miss the envious glares, reverting immediately to her old self. She slammed her hand on a desk, producing a deafening sound and drawing the students’ attention on her.

“Instead of wasting your time staring at him, mind your own task. You, up there.” She pointed to a red haired girl, sitting a couple of desks behind Lith.

“I said to be delicate with the leaves. Keep up like that and they will crumple.” To her defence, she was just clenching her hands in frustration. The problem was she had completely forgotten what she was doing.

“As for you.” Wanemyre pointed to a slim boy sitting right in front of her.

“You don’t change your water often enough. That way you are not cleaning the Frost Dew, just moving the dirt from one spot to another.”

The two students rushed to correct the situation according to the Professor’s instructions.

“I’d like to tell you to keep your cool, that this isn’t a competition, but it damn is. Once you graduate, or even better if you graduate, who do you think will buy the creations of a nameless Forgemaster? No one but friends, relatives, and the Mage Association.