The Vaesteri family was among Milirevi's most important families. For generations, they've put their sorcerous prowess at service of the city and in the name of the Daliath religion. Their contributions were so notorious that they earned multiple awards and titles for it. Including the Dal-kanan-Dal (the blessing that multiples blessings), an honor granted to a single digit of families around the known worlds. The family ran a temple that was large, beautiful, a historical landmark, and a shelter to those in need.
"I don't-" he takes a deep breath, trying to figure out what he's trying to stay. "I don't understand why I'd be- allowed to be trained." Pauses, flinches. "Unless you- need me to-" he swallows thickly.
"-need me to- fight, be a-" How had it been phrased? He can't remember, grasps for the nearest thing. "-a foot soldier?"
"We... we don't use foot soldiers," Feliaris says, muttering something in English under his breath.
"I- uh, no, of course not, sir." It's quick, glib, placating in its way, and there's a sense that Parafi's disagreement is more about where he fits in terms of 'people' than because he disagrees with Teronmas.
"Or feel like we are going to snap at you at any mistake... I mean, it's not good that you feel that way, but it's not your fault. And we won't snap."
"I- uh. Yes. Sor-" He stops the apology, not sure he should continue it when they seem to think it isn't his fault.
Teronmas will take the seat next to Parafi if he doesn't mind. And either way, he will pull another notebook and start teaching.