Sam looked around the room at all the empty desks. He was early, for once, and felt good about that; but the empty feeling in his stomach wouldn’t leave. Was he ready for a new school? Would they like him? God, how high school of him, wondering if he would fit in–but this was high school, so that was appropriate in its own, awkward way. At least he didn’t have to share the room, like some of the other teachers. Then again, nobody wanted to share this windowless, ill-begotten cave.

He started writing his name on the board, then wiped it off. Chalk–he couldn’t believe the school still used chalk. It ground in his fingers, in his bones, just thinking about it. Then he looked down at his sleeve, and sighed. Yes, he truly hated chalk. He sighed again, and checked his watch. The bell rang.

He wrote his name on the board, then went around the room placing a pinch of powder in each seat. Students began to appear in flashes of various colors and smells.

High school. He shuddered.

When the room was mostly full, he began his lesson. “Greetings, class. This–” he pointed to the board “–is my name. It’s how I’m bound, and how you can summon me if you’re having problems. In our first lesson, we’ll be discussing what that means.”

A student raised her hand, and he peered into her aura. She didn’t know how to hide a thing, yet. He could see her name, her true name, though with high school students that was still shifting. “Yes, Amanda?”

Another thousand years, he thought. Another thousand years, and his service would be done.

He wondered if any of them would still be alive; if they’d make the same mistakes that he had.

Well, they always needed more teachers.

#FIN#

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