In pretty ordinary fashion, actually.

After your run-in with Skulgi, you and Lime continue on to the dining hall without further interruption. As a matter of fact, people seem to be getting out of your way as what had happened between you and the dwarves was spreading like wildfire though the student body already. It was only moments, but it already seemed like everybody was talking about it and looking to you and your slime-girl with wary speculation. It was an odd thing, you thought, to be looked at. People tended to ignore you, really, and that was at best. Others, like Skulgi, chose to give you attention of a rather hostile sort so you preferred being ignored. Though, now, it seemed being ignored would be impossible.

Still, it was not something you would think too hard on as you weren't one to focus on things that troubled you overmuch. Instead, you looked on the bright side, that being that people would stop looking down on Lime as they had when they first saw her or in class today. People would have more respect for what a slime could do and that made you happy. If people could see that Lime was a good familiar, as you know she is, then you would be truly glad.

You keep that upbeat emotion in your heart as you retrieve some food, a hearty stew of root vegetables (which were plentiful in the dwarven lands) and some hard bread. You took up a plate for yourself and for Lime and found a table to sit at so you could eat. Lime seemed rather displeased with the meal as she made her preferences for a meal clear as she snaked a hand down beneath the table and onto your lap as she tried to squeeze her dainty hand down your pants again. You stopped her this time, grasping her wrist and pulling her hand away with a blush on your face and a gentle chastisement.

"No, not here, Lime. I...I promise I'll f-feed you better when we're alone, but you can't do those sorts of things out in public, all right?", you tell her and, though she pouts about it, she gives you a nod and sets to eating the stew. She copies you in taking up a spoon and scooping up the thick stew to put to her lips and swallow down. You know she doesn't really need to do that as, really, she could absorb the food through any part of her body she felt like, but you found it a bit endearing to see her trying so hard to emulate you. You tried to set a good example of table manners for her as you both ate, finishing your lunch just in time for the signal chime for your next class.

Your next class is another one you do rather well at as it is all theoretical rather than practical. Magical Theory II is more about the mechanics behind magic and the theories of how it works and that takes more study and intellect than actual magic potential and you are good at those things. Besides, you thought it in your best interest to read up and learn about how magic is actually supposed to work so maybe you could apply theory to practice if you really tried. Though, the more you learned, the more you thought that perhaps there was only so much book learning could compensate for when it came to a deficiency in actual magic potential.

That's what you sometimes thought you had. After all, from what you knew of how to form magical energy and cast spells, you were doing what you had to. Most spells and enchantments were part environmental mana gathering and internal mana focusing. You were supposed to gather the mana that existed out in the world, that exuded from almost everything, and take it into you to mix and mingle with your own internal reservoir of magical energy. Everybody had such magical energy within them, it is said, and the more powerful the sorcerer, the greater the reservoir of potential magical energy within them. That was the theory, anyway, and, since you knew you could gather up external mana well enough, you had to think that maybe there was a deficiency in your own magical reservoir. And, if that were the case...well, there wasn't much of anything that could be done about that.

You chose not to think about that as you focused on getting through your classes. Luckily, after Magical Theory, you had the class you most excelled at. That being Smithing. The actual act of forging metal and crafting armor and weapons and other tools. That was where you shone brightest. In that class, it didn't matter if you couldn't bring magic to bear or weave it into the metal. No, in Smithing class, all you had to do was be able to work a forge and you, having been the son of a Mage-smith who had been around a forge almost since you were born, could work steel with the best of them. If it was metal or any other material that could be shaped or molded, you could work them into wonders if you put your mind to it. It was the one place you excelled and, as such, it was the class that helped you feel the best about yourself as you could finish work three times as fast and fine than your classmates and always had time to work on your own side projects when you were finished.

You always enjoyed that class, but, soon enough, it came to an end and so too did your classes for the day. That was your last class and, though it left you on an emotional high, you still knew you had a tedious disciplinary task to see to and that cooled your mood a bit. Not much as your natural optimistic nature didn't allow you to truly feel low, but enough that, when you entered the Enchanting class room, you weren't beaming as you had been when working the forge only a short while before. But that was then and this was now and you would focus on the task at hand...whatever it would be, exactly.