The Final Academy

He had made it thus far on one pen; a trust metal and inkwell one. Every exam was taken with the same pen, and it promised to hold up through the remaining five years of schooling.
He got up from his desk, picked up his papers, and walked to the front of the room.
The professor took them and read them quickly. "You do not describe the Final Academy accurately. Please return to your seat and try again."
The process repeated throughout the day, the boy receiving the same response every time. By suppertime, the professor kept the papers, promising a morning response.
It read in bright red ink: "While The Final Academy is a superior school and is often chosen as the last building of schooling, Life is the true Final Academy."