Apollo Sky The Loyal

"Please, Miss Crescent," said Headmaster Kirk.

He was groveling in front of Crescent. The only thing separating them was the wall made of dozens of iron bars. Litters of sweat soaked the cravat of the man who looked not older than thirty years old. His hands gripped the iron bars as he nudged his face against them, not minding the pricks of electricity wracking his body.

Lost in his misery, he stopped minding the spell attached to the iron bars or the wielded connection for some iron bars. His tear-stricken eyes were only pinned to the person before him – the only salvation from his misery.

In front of him, standing on the other side of the room, was a straight-faced Halfling.

"Headmaster Kirk, you know very well I can't do that." Cent turned around.

She plopped her body onto the small bed, sitting at the edge of her bed while crossing her pajama-covered legs.