[Amber Brightwing]

Slowpaced learning? She? She didn’t have much to compare with, but she was pretty sure she was not slow when it came to the arcane arts. Even only because she was a fae and because Aribeal had told her so last time. Sure, there were probably faster learners, but on the average she was quite confident she was not slow at all. One could argue that she could have returned months earlier, but she had been busy and it hadn’t been that long. For a human, six months might be a long time, but - and Spirotyn should know that, being a member of the long-lived races himself - it was only a blink of an eye compared to the several hundreds of patterns she had before her.

She remained silent though and those thoughts were safely tucked away in the back of her head though. Arguing with the pointy eared doorman in front of her could only bring her harm, so she did that what she had the most experience with: hiding her true feelings. Maybe when she had caught up with him she could show him how slow she learned, but that wouldn’t be for a while.

She hurried past the unfriendly elf and quickly found her way to the room where she had received her training before. After a bit of trouble with the door - why did people always made them so heavy anyway? - she looked around, finding little had changed. Aribeal was sitting behind his desk.

Yes, I’ve finally found the time to continue with my training.

Giving in to her curiosity, she looked at the book he had been reading from the corner of her eye, only to find the title to be an incomprehensible mess of characters. Possible titles popped up in her mind, ranging from necromancy and Aetheria related things to how to bake a cake or maintain a vegetable garden. The previous ones would be more likely, but it would have been funny it was the latter.