The Great Hero is a Schoolteacher

My whole day seemed brighter. Finally, I could leave politics to politicians. I’d done my part in avoiding the war, so it felt right to let them handle the consequences. Hopefully, someone as brutal as Saegorg was disliked enough for his demise to go smoothly in the area. As long as I wasn’t sent for, I wouldn’t meddle with the diplomatic process.

Nobody came for me until I left for my appointment with Catalin. Or did it count as a date? In any case, I was bringing a few biscuits along.

It was a cloudy day with the occasional gust of wind, but it didn’t matter. I walked across the main bridge, acknowledging the guards with a nod. My lack of an escort didn’t seem to bother anyone. After all, I’d earned my hero title, and this time, at least, I knew the way to the University of Magic Arts.

I reached the place under a light shower. Catalin was waiting for me at the door. It was strange to see her back in her freshman uniform, this gray robe that went down to her ankles, concealing her tail. But it was simply exhilarating to see the faces of Loenn Gimon and his friends when I walked her to the classroom, holding her arm while she munched on biscuits from the royal kitchen.

Watch me, kids. You saw me propose to her by mistake, and you thought I’d run away in shame. Well, I didn’t. This young woman deserves her place here, and if I need to make a show of loving her, I will.

“This is the enchantment room,” explained Catalin.

The door looked thick, like these massive wooden doors in medieval castles.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Not if you know what you’re doing!”

Some other students tried to get my attention, but I ignored them. I smiled at Catalin.

“I trust you. I know you’ll do just fine. Would you like to have dinner with me? At seven, in the dining room of the palace?”

She blushed. So far, she’d been on the grounds, but she’d never set foot inside the palace itself. The situation was different now. She’d saved the kingdom, and the king himself had given her a room.

She finally nodded. “Yes, at seven in the dining room. Thank you, Al.”

There was an exquisite chime, and the door opened on its own. The rich kids watched wide-eyed as Catalin walked into the enchantment room, waving at me on the threshold.

She did come to the small dining room in the evening. With no way to keep track of time once we walked away from the massive clocks scattered in the palace, I was afraid she’d be late, but she wasn’t. A beautiful Zimeon in a simple black dress over a white shirt, her thick cherry-red hair tied behind her back with a ribbon, walked into the room with a shy smile.

You belong here, young sorcerer.

Catalin and I sat at the end of a table, facing each other. She told me about her day, how different everyone’s behavior was.

“Even before I came?” I asked.

She nodded. “Most students heard about our adventure. They knew I wasn’t just skipping classes these past ten days.”

“If you’re a hero in your own right, maybe you don’t need me, after all.”

She glared at me. “Al! Don’t say this like you mean it! I hope we share many more adventures in the future, preferably less dangerous ones.”

I laughed at the precision. Platters were passed to us, and each of us chose her preferred dishes.

In ten days, we only ate what was available, so I never knew what Catalin likes.

She looked fond of bread, leafy vegetables and gravy. She didn’t seem to have much of a sweet tooth, even though she’d been happy to eat Sirit’s biscuits. As we ate, she told me about her final assignment. She had to study a spell by a known master, reproduce it, and imagine a simpler way to achieve a similar effect.

Catalin’s spell created a pocket of breathable air around one’s head. She told me it was originally designed for firefighters. I loved how her hands and face moved as she spoke, conveying her enthusiasm.

I was far less thrilled when she sighed while I was having dessert.

“Look, Al, I’ve been thinking about what happened in Malo.”

My heart turned to acid. “What part of what happened?”

Catalin’s fingers ran along the table.

“Just before Kossi threw you out. You said you’d used us and you’d lied to us. I keep wondering about those lies.”

“Ah.”

I peeked at our closest neighbors. They were several seats away and looked deep in their own conversation, so I considered the risk of eavesdropping was minimal.

“I might have told some small lies that I don’t remember, but here’s the big one. The man with the silver hair, the one who didn’t smell human and who dropped us near the gates of Malo.”

Catalin’s ears folded and she wrinkled her nose.

“Faur’s lieutenant.”

“Actually, it was Faur himself, and I knew it.”

“What?”

The noise level dropped dramatically in the room. Catalin blushed, checked her plate, but it was empty. I was the one with the sweet tooth.

“We rode in a coach with Demon Lord Faur?” she said, her terracotta eyes wide with shock.

“I’m afraid we did. He was the only one who could get us there on time, so I accepted his offer. And I thought Chess and you would never accept a ride with my sworn enemy, so I pretended I didn’t know who he was. I’m sorry.”

Catalin stayed silent for a while. Someone passed her a jug. She poured herself a glass and drank bottoms up, without even looking at the beverage. Then she coughed.

“I hate chilper wine! I mean, he’s your…”

She struggled to find her words. I waited for the sentence to end, before deciding I ought to finish it myself.

“So says the prophecy. But unpleasant as he is, back then, he was less of an enemy than Saegorg.”

“And you didn’t tell us.” Catalin’s eyes wished they could throw daggers.

I looked at my spoonful of cake. “Would you have followed, if I’d told you the truth?”

“Probably not.”

Catalin bit her lower lip.

“Look, I get why you did it, I can forgive you given the circumstances, but never lie to me like this again, all right?”

“I promise.”

I felt relieved beyond words. After dinner, Catalin and I walked in the courtyard, hoping for some stargazing, but the sky was too cloudy. We just parted after a short hug.

Nothing was done. But everything was still possible.

On the next day, King Esthar left Carastra for unknown political matters.

At least, he won’t summon me.

I found a library in the west wing of the palace, a few doors away from my apartments. I decided to learn as much as I could about my new world. For a few days, I read about history and myths. The statue in the fountain, in the flower garden of the palace, was Tangum, goddess of Harvest from an old polytheistic religion. I learned the names of plants and animals, hoping I’d be able to recognize them if I came across them in real life. The sketches representing them looked like they suffered from excessive artistic license.

Although I spent hours on my own, I didn’t feel alone. On most evenings, I had dinner with Catalin, learning about her, her family, her culture. Out of the window, on sunny days, I could see Kossi replanting trees in the south garden, watched by a dozen guards.

I asked Lord Torren whether there were state-funded schools in Brealia. As I suspected, there weren’t. I promised myself I’d talk to the king as soon as he was available. I was full of ideas that probably matched some of All One’s claims. Opening more positions to commoners, and providing them with cheaper schooling, would be a major step for equity, but it’d also bring more capable officials to King Esthar. Could he ignore such a promising opportunity?

It felt like the best way to bring prosperity to the Brealian kingdom, my mission as the Great Hero Al. A hero didn’t need to punch baddies every other day. I could be a hero of a different kind.

And still get to wear a cape if I wanted.