The Ruens of Fairstone (Aeon of Light Book 2) by Aron Sethlen Page A

fall onto Pard and follow him as he moves forward to the front row to his desk. Pard avoids the students’ stares and the whispers and focuses on his seat.
    “Class,” Professor Videl says, raising his arthritic finger, “five hundred words on Galen’s law and how it can help you solve Dreegan’s ten proofs. You have thirty minutes, now begin.”
    The class groans and a chorus of shuffling papers reverberates throughout the lecture hall.
    Pard slides into his seat and sets his stack of textbooks on the floor next to him. Sweat pools on his brow, and he leans back in his chair to catch his breath as he stares at the far wall of the portraits of all the past Fairstone advanced mathematics teachers.
    Professor Videl exits through a private door in the front of the classroom which leads to his office. And as if by magic, the moment the professor’s door clicks shut, a wadded piece of paper strikes Pard in the back of his head. Just ignore them, ignore them, ignore them .
    “ Psst —” a boy says behind Pard.
    Ignore them, ignore them
    “ Psst —” the boy says again.
    Pard, unable to control himself any longer, scowls and spins around in his chair. “ What do you want ?”
    A crumpled up piece of paper bounces of the bridge of Pard’s nose.
    Pard clinches his teeth, and Nox, condescending, tilts his head to the side, smiles, and waves at him. How the heck did this idiot get into advanced mathematics anyway? Pard turns away, lowers his head, and writes his essay.  
    A couple hours later, class lets out and Pard makes straight for the sanctuary of his room on the fourth floor. But as he reaches the spiral marble staircase rising from the main foyer up to the upper floors, Miles jumps in front of Pard to block his path.
    “Hey,” Miles says.
    “Hey what?” Pard says, still climbing the stairs and attempting to slide by Miles.
    “I need your help with something.”
    “What kind of something?”
    “Advanced mathematics.”
    “What about it?”
    “I need you to tutor me.”
    “No.”
    “Hey, come on now, why not?” Miles says, continuing to step up the stairs backward and matching every move Pard makes side to side, and still keeping his body in front of Pard.
    Pard corrals his stack of books into one arm and swats at Miles with the other. “Because I can’t. Now move.”
    “Is this about the electric light and the cat? Because I was just kidding with you. Actually, I think it’s kinda cool.”
    “No, and it’s not cool .”
    Miles opens his arms. “Then what is it? Come on, I need your help, professor, you’re like the smartest student in this whole school.”
    “Find someone else to tutor you. I’m not interested.”
    “But I want you.” Miles sticks his arm out and stiff arms Pard in his shoulder to stop him. “You know who I am, right? Who my father is?”
    “So what, am I supposed to be impressed?”
    Surprised, Miles’s jaw drops, and he lowers his arm. “Well, yeah, sort of. Everyone else is impressed with my father.”
    “Then have them tutor you, because I’m busy.” Pard nudges past Miles and ascends the stairs.
    Miles, still in shock someone would blow him off, isn’t sure how to react. Then he shakes his head, snapping out of his amazement, and he races up the stairs after Pard. “Hey, wait up!”
    Pard peeks back. “Forget about it, I said find a different tutor. I’m not interested.”
    Miles grabs Pard’s shoulder and makes him stop again.  
    A group of boys laugh and joke as they skip down the stairs, then slow and go silent as they reach Pard.  
    Their eyes glare at Pard as if he’s diseased, and Miles let’s go of Pard’s shoulder and nods at the boys as they pass.
    Gor, an imposing boy, towering above his comrades and with red hair making him even more striking, turns around and stares at Pard and then at Miles. “Marlow, the harpastum match is later after arms training, you in? We’re gonna practice on the north field after lunch if you’re