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On his shoulder, Shawn took a deep breath. He gestured at the group. "Come on in. Come on. Quickly."

"What is it, Shawn?" Ike asked, snagging Mag before the birdboy could wander away. With a firm tug, he turned him back toward the group.

"I spent years as a treasure. I know a thing or two about manners. If you do everything I\'m about to tell you, we might pass this trial."

Ike nodded. Internally, he cheered, pumping his fist. Yes! Shawn to the rescue! The one adult, civilized person among us! Externally, he remained serious. "I\'m all ears."

"Right. So. Here\'s the basics. Now, keep in mind, these are the basics. There\'s years of training that goes into proper manners, but don\'t worry about that right now. I\'m going to teach you the absolute basics, and if you follow them exactly, we might not fail this trial."

"Student recognizes master!" Wisp declared, bowing semi-seriously.

"First off. Approach your seat from the right. Wait for your host to acknowledge you, then sit quietly, legs together, back upright. When food is served, wait for the host to serve themselves first. Serve yourself a small portion. Small. And small bites. Mouth shut when you chew. Use the cutlery from the inside out, the furthest-out forks, knives, and spoons first, progressing slowly inward, and letting the servants take the previous cutlery before the next course is served, unless they expressly indicate elsewise. Make sure to always flatter your host, and never contradict them. You let the host take the lead in all things, and follow their cues. Do not talk politics. Do not bring up topics that might cause disagreements. We\'re going to miss some steps, for certain. But watch me and act as I do, and we might make it through this."

Ike nodded. "You got it, boss."

"Acting fancy isn\'t that hard. I can do it," Mag said, with the overflowing confidence of someone who had never tried.

"As long as we\'re better than the worst person in the room, we still have a chance," Wisp said, nodding.

Ike glanced at her. "I really hope our previous trials are factored into our survival to the next trial."

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"Yeah. If that\'s the case, we can pretty much bomb this and still make it through. But we don\'t know that for sure. And we know that if we get disqualified, we will be kicked out, barring extenuating circumstances. We can\'t throw this, as much as we might want to," she said, nodding. She went to sit.

Ike reached out his arm.

"What? Did I already fuck up?" Wisp asked.

"No cussing!" Shawn barked.

"Cleaning skill," Ike reminded her. He activated his own cleaning skill. His robes, still the fancy white ones from Clarina\'s place, glittered as the skill washed over them. His skin softened, the dirt fading away, and his hair grew fluffy once more, grease banished.

"Oh, right." She activated hers. Her hair bounced as it suddenly untangled, and her pale skin grew even paler.

Mag harrumphed. "I can do that, too." He shook his head, and his whole body, clothes and all, ruffled and resettled back down, as if he had fluffed his feathers, ducked himself into a bird bath, then shook himself off.

"That\'s actually impressive," Ike said.

"Yeah, yeah. We\'ve all got cleaning skills, very nice. Actually, that\'s better than I expected from some of you," Shawn commented.

"We only got them recently. Back when we first got stuck in Shopkeep\'s place," Ike reminded him.

Shawn\'s eyes widened. He nodded, slowly. "It all falls into place…"

All around them, the other candidates had already taken their seats. The four of them took theirs, Shawn hopping off Ike\'s shoulder to take a chair of his own. Servants swiftly came and offered him additional cushions to raise his head up over the surface of the table. Ike sat in the middle, with Wisp and Mag on either side of him, with Shawn taking the rightmost seat.

"Watch me. They should serve me first, due to my location. Whatever I do, copy it," Shawn stated.

Ike saluted. Wisp nodded. Mag stared at his silverware with wide eyes. He reached out. "Shinies…"

Ike slapped his hand. "Not now. Wait until afterward."

"What? But they\'re mine. They gave them to me," Mag argued.

Shawn narrowed his eyes. "Do not steal the silverware. I thought I didn\'t have to say it, but I see this is the level of skill here. Do not steal anything, in fact. Not food, not silverware, not plates. Nothing."

Wisp clicked her tongue. "Lame."

"Later, later. We\'ll steal it at the end," Ike whispered.

"We will not steal it at the end. We will not steal it at all. And don\'t whisper. It\'s rude." Shawn took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. "Gods, it\'s like you\'re all feral animals, raised in the woods."

Ike nodded, tipping his head back and forth. Wisp gave him a thumbs up. Mag nodded enthusiastically.

"Right. I forgot. You are feral woodland creatures." Shawn put his head in his hands and took a deep breath. To himself, he muttered, "It\'s okay. I can do it. I can do this."

"We just have to survive," Ike offered comfortingly.

"Right. Survival. The bare minimum." Shawn sat up sharply, his eyes laser focused. He watched straight ahead, but also kept his peripheries on his friends.

Not wanting to be the biggest problem, Ike sat up straight. He put his feet flat on the floor and squared his shoulders, and waited for the dishes to arrive.

Opposite him sat a handsome young man. He smiled at Ike. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," Ike replied. Internally, he pumped his fist. All right! I can do this!

The young man tipped his head. "I\'ve been wondering lately. We keep mortals at the base of our mage cities, but why? What benefit do they offer us?"

Ike froze. He cut his eyes to Shawn, immediately lost. Shawn! What do I do when the host immediately brings up politics? And politics that I probably disagree with him on, at that?