1st Spring, 510 A.V.
Hadrian ambled into the registrar's office with the ho-hum, old-hats bravado of an upperclassman. He had been here for years now, but it was time to register for the next round of classes. His hair wasn't quite in order, and his student's robes were artfully unkempt in what he and some of his colleagues considered "rakish."
Truth be told, whatever pull he had within the University likely wouldn't amount to a hill of beans elsewhere, but academia was a soap bubble, gleaming and perfect. And fragile. He would get to the bubble-bursting soon enough, but for now he was a brilliant student; a big fish, perhaps, but kept in a relatively tame pond.
"Hullo, Registrar Sanderson," he greeted, all chummy. "Here we are again, eh? Well, I'm to enroll in more anthro and magecrafting, of course. Getting all prepared for my practicum."
Once he was sufficiently prepared, he would be a journeyman, sent out of the ivory tower to learn from experience and less academic instructors.
"And, I suppose, if anyone has recommended me for other classes this term while I was on the break... Thank you."