Building G was dark. The only light came through dirty windows that sporadically lined its walls. Thick layers of dust sat on the windowsills. Noah rubbed his nose with the back of a sleeve and headed down the hall.
Fortunately, the designer of this building didn’t seem to have had a vendetta against the world. There was only a single path, and it wound in a square spiral, slowly winding toward the center.
Less fortunately, but somewhat predictably, the room numbering started at 1. By the time that Noah had made it to the nineties, there was absolutely no light left to go by. He walked in the complete darkness, using the wall to guide him. Whenever his fingertips brushed over wood rather than stone, he mentally counted up by one.
There were spots where torches had once sat, but every single one of them was unlit. Noah was contemplating turning back and trying to find a light source when his outstretched left hand hit stone.
He felt around, blindly reaching for the wall. They brushed against brittle wood. He was at a dead end, directly across from a door.
“One hundred.” Noah pushed on the door, and it creaked open. A tiny sliver of light descended from the ceiling in the center of the class, where a hole in the ceiling let the sun slip through.
There was just enough light for him to make out the shadowed classroom. Old wooden chairs littered the ground, most of them either damaged or completely unusable. A chalkboard hung from the end of the room behind a rotted podium, badly askew.
Several long desks sat in the center of the room, covered with a heavy layer of dust. Noah ran a finger across one of the desks, then sighed. He made his way up to the podium, nearly tripping over discarded wood several times, and turned to face his empty classroom.
“Something tells me my attendance isn’t very high,” Noah said to himself. He drummed his fingers on the podium, then ducked and searched around for chalk. Beyond broken wood and metal, the ground was unhelpful. Noah sighed. “Well, at least I’ve got a room. I’ve worked with worse before.”
Noah scooted a desk over to the thin streamer of light entering the room. He sat down and pulled his book out, flipping through the pages and trying to make sense of the scribbles.
And so, he waited.
And waited.
A foot scuffed against stone. Warm orange light spilled through the doorway a few seconds before a young woman walked into the room. Her hair was the clearest shade of blue that Noah had ever seen, and her eyes matched. A small ball of flame floated above her hand, lighting the way.
She froze, locking eyes with him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I believe I am here to teach class,” Noah replied, his eyes locked on the flickering orb of fire.
The girl squinted at him. “Vermil?”
“No, I – oh. Yeah. That’s me.”
“Who are you talking to, Isabel?” A muscular blonde boy nudged her out of the way and stepped through the doorway. He froze as well, his eyes going wide as he spotted Noah. “Whoa.”
“What?” Noah demanded, looking down at his clothes. “Do I have dirt on my lapel or something?”
“I never seen him show up for class,” Isabel muttered.
You can’t be serious. These are my students? I was expecting children! They’re practically my age.
“Technically, he didn’t,” the boy said. “Class was supposed to start forty minutes ago.”
Noah paled. “Ah. Better late than never, eh?”
“You seem… different,” Isabel said with a small frown. “What are you trying to play at?”
“Nothing!” Noah exclaimed. “I’m just here to teach. You’ll have to excuse any strangeness. I took a blow to the head while out… killing monkeys. I’ve had some minor memory loss.”
“Right,” the boy drawled. “Sure. Well, we’ll just be going then.”
“Nope,” Noah said, rising from his seat and sliding his book into its holster. “I’ve got to teach.”
And you’re going to answer all my questions for me.
“You showed up late,” Isabel reminded him.
“But show up I did. And you did too. That means I’ve got to teach for – how long does this class go for?”
“Two hours,” the boy said, narrowing his eyes.
“An hour and twenty more minutes, then.”
“You didn’t even remember how long the class is,” the boy pointed out.
“While we’re at it, I’ve forgotten your name as well.”
“Todd.”
“Great. Isabel and Todd. Tell me, where’s the rest of class?”
“There is no rest of the class, man,” Todd said, rolling his eyes. “Why’d you even bother coming?”
“To teach,” Noah said, patting the desk. “Well, two is better than none. Please, sit down.”
Todd stared at him. “You can’t be serious. You’re actually going to teach?”
“I mean, that’s my job, is it not?”
“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Isabel said. “I do not want to be taught by you.”
“That’s harsh,” Noah said. “And why not?”
“You’re Rank 1,” Isabel said, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. “And we are also Rank 1s.”
“I see,” Noah said, not seeing at all.
“You’re literally no more skilled than we are,” Todd said. He squinted at Noah. “The only reason you’re even employed is because you’re part of the Linwick family, man. Look, we had a good thing going. Just keep not wasting our time and we won’t complain about how useless you are. Kay?”
Noah pursed his lips.
Linwick again. I’ll need to figure out what my association with them is, because they’re clearly powerful. It would be bad if they found out I stole Vermil’s body.
“I’m afraid not,” Noah said. “As untalented as I may be, have you ever considered that I might have some experience that you may not?”
“Not really,” Isabel said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “What’s gotten into you? Come on, Todd. Let’s get out of here.”
They turned.
“Sit down,” Noah barked, calling on a voice that he’d often had to fall back on whenever his classes got too rowdy back on earth. Isabel and Todd spun back toward him, their eyes going wide.
“What?” Todd asked.
“I have your time for the next hour and twenty minutes,” Noah said. “Sit. Down. You’re welcome to leave anyway, but then I’ll be reporting your absence to the school.”
They both paled and, glaring in his direction, they pulled out two of the dusty desks and sat down.
Good. I was hoping the school would probably have some sort of punishment for students skipping out class. These two aren’t going anywhere until I figure out exactly how magic works.
“Go on,” Todd said, resting his chin in his palm. “I’ve never seen you so motivated before. What are you going to teach us about? That time you seduced a girl five years younger than you?”
Noah cleared his throat. “No.”
“She was one of your students, wasn’t she?” Isabel asked with a smirk. “That’s bold, really. I can’t believe the school didn’t can you for that.”
“I,” Noah said, raising his voice just enough to keep them from interrupting him again, “will be talking about Runes.”
“Bold,” Todd said. “That’s new.”
Noah paced over to the chalkboard and tapped his finger against it. He turned back to face his students. “What is a Rune?”
Both Todd and Isabel burst into laughter.
“You can’t be serious,” Isabel said, tearing up from how hard she was laughing.
Noah just cocked an eyebrow. He waited a few seconds to let them get it out of their systems, then tapped the board again. “If it’s so simple, then answer the question.”
“What, are we children now? A Rune allows us to gather energy and use magic.”
Good to know.
“And you, Isabel?”
“What do you want? Todd already told you what it is.”
“I see.”
“He’s lost it,” Todd muttered.
“I see that neither of you have any idea what you’re doing,” Noah continued. He rapped hard on the chalkboard and it fell from its hinges, crashing to the ground behind him. Both students flinched. Noah did his best not to look surprised.
He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes lighting up as he spotted a piece of chalk that had escaped his attention. Noah grabbed the chalk and put the board back up. “You have just given me the most worthless definition possible. I did not ask you what a Rune does. I asked you what it is.”