Efficiency classes: boring, and way more useful for people who aren't her. Odette would probably just pull out a novel, but if she got terrible grades in every class that didn't matter to her, it would reflect badly on her professor father.
If only something interesting would happen.
"Oh, I guess your world's magic does work differently, is getting rid of scars hard?"
"Not usually. I'm just really unlucky. Um, to make a long and horrifying story much shorter than it deserves, I form magically indelible scars because my father once met someone who was very magically powerful and then annoyed them very badly."
"No, they cursed him, and he didn't know the curse was heritable until he had me. I was born with some of these scars."
"Hang on, this is awful in too many ways, I need a minute to organize my thoughts before any of them can be articulated," she says, pressing her lips together in a thin line.
"Of course they got away with it. That sort of thing happens all the time, although usually the curse isn't this brutal. My world has some interesting things, but it is not a nice place."
"I can't hardly even imagine," she says, shaking her head. "I mean--I know people well enough that it doesn't objectively surprise me that most people wouldn't initiate a self-policing tradition, but."
"Yeah. The world is divided approximately into people who are powerful enough to mostly do whatever they want to the rest of us, and, well, the rest of us. It's not a good system."
And, sooner rather than later, the training room. The walls are padded, and the floor has mats on it firm enough for good footing but soft enough that you're less likely to get hurt falling on them.
Odette, as caller, stands in the center of the room and calls for warm-ups for anyone smart enough to do them.
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