"No. I did study with the Thaumaturge's Guild when I got to Ul'dah... it's basically the place you go when you want to learn how to cast giant fireballs or chunks of ice." Though his education only went so far there, and he'd turned to forbidden magicks soon enough. So maybe he's a bit overly ambitious... ah, well.

The fork gets a strange look from Nara'a, and the papers get inspected but ultimately thrown away. He can't read this. He finally opens up the area just enough so that they could squeeze through. He wiggles through and - oh huh. "I found the lock for these chains. Maybe it's one of those on the keychain?" It's worth a try at least.

He peeks back and - oh. Really? He wrinkles his nose but doesn't say anything. Dabi's got a different view of what's important than he does. And while the dead don't have anything particular about them to be respected, it's still rude from his standpoint. But his 'friend' doesn't really care about rude. He wouldn't be the first or the last.