Englishman

The maths lesson was absolutely packed. John’s bus had arrived early, thankfully, which meant he actually managed to get his regular seat. As he glanced around at the additional chairs and students filing in, a familiar face dropped into the chair that was occupying what would normally be an aisle next to him.

“Hey, have you heard?” Wesley said, leaning forward and rummaging in his bag for his notebook. “It’s not just your English teacher that’s not in, my maths teacher’s a no-show too. Wish they’d just canceled the class, but apparently they’ve got a substitute for both coming in so we’re merging for this session instead. It’s gonna be cramped!”

John’s thoughts were mostly on his date that afternoon with Matilda; he did, however, note Wesley’s words and turned to his friend. “Substitute? I thought it was just going to be a few days we’d be missing classes. Do you know what happened? It’s got to be something fairly major to knock two people out badly enough for them to need to get a substitute this quick, right?”

Wesley shrugged. “I heard from one of the spelling team that in your teacher’s case it was a sudden family emergency, and she’s going to be gone at least a month or two. As for my maths teacher though? Well, you didn’t hear this from me, but apparently he made a pass at Miss Summers in the teachers’ lounge and is currently on suspension for inappropriate behaviour towards a colleague.”

John blinked. “Miss Summers… June?! He made a pass at… but didn’t you say your maths teacher was Mr Rednack? Isn’t he, like, a hundred and eight or something?”

The tactician snorted, earning them a glare but little else from the struggling teacher trying to handle the level of noise a doubled-up class was making naturally. “He looks it, but apparently he’s only, like, fifty-seven or something? Either way, the guy was a total creep so good riddance.”

“So Rednack’s gone, and they’re getting two substitutes?” John asked, idly making notes on the proper use of repeated adverbs in speech-writing from the board on the grounds it might prove useful if he ever actually had to write a sermon. His mother had always stressed to him the importance of taking any advantages Ashcroft would give him for his future career - although he was pretty sure she didn’t have magical cleric in mind when she’d said it.

Making slightly less detailed notes and frowning to himself, Wesley didn’t look up as he shook his head. “No, just the one - some English guy apparently, he’s supposed to be able to handle teaching both subjects. Mind you, for most of the other people in my maths class, being able to add two and two together and not getting three would make you ahead of the curve, so I’m not sure it’ll be that much of a problem for him.”

A little more prompting revealed that the new teacher was apparently having an induction that morning with the head of the academy, prior to starting the following week; John filed it away with the rest of the mundane information from the class. There was no way something as simple as a change of teacher could impact him to the same extent that trying to build a flock for his temple in the Abyss might.

As he left for lunch, however, Wesley nudged him. “Hey, look out the window - there’s the new substitute now.” John glanced where his friend was pointing, and nearly stumbled in shock. Down and across the grass from John’s second-floor vantage point, being escorted around the grounds by one of the other teachers was none other than the same mysterious suited man he’d previously seen speaking with Emily Redcroft.

This was just too strange an occurrence not to investigate further. He was on one of the upper floors, it was some distance away, and so far the only person who’d been able to detect him using Observe had been Not-So-Wee Jimmy. Thinking furiously, John feigned a need to tie his shoes and waved Wesley to go and get them a table in the cafeteria. As soon as his friend was out of sight, John risked using his ability - looking back out the window just in time as the man opened the door to step back into the building on the far side of the grounds.

Swallowing hard, John ducked back down and darted after Wesley. The figure had seemed mysterious enough before, but the fact that he was even higher level than Emily was even more concerning. Although… the man was almost as old as John’s mother, and wasn’t even as high a level as Moira. Were the Abyssal women at Ashcroft just prodigies, or was this man a particularly low achiever? It didn’t really matter too much either way, John intended to keep his head down and have as little to do with the Englishman as he possibly could.

As he turned those thoughts over, John wasn’t really looking where he was going in his rush to the canteen - and the inevitable happened. Taking a step back from the person he’d just ran into… no, John corrected himself mentally with a groan, the teacher he’d just ran into, he raised his hands in apology. “I’m so sorry, Mrs Wentworth - I had something on my mind and wasn’t looking where I was going and…”

A hand that held an extraordinary amount of strength given the woman’s gray hair clamped down on his shoulder, while two piercing eyes stared into his. For a moment, John could swear he saw his Status window flicker open - and then the history teacher relaxed her grip and spoke in a tone that chilled his bones, “A word of advice, Mr Newman. When you are watching something or someone, take care to ensure you are not also being watched. Quis custodiet ipsos custodes as they say. But well done for being interesting at least. I shall see you in class on Monday, do try to not walk into any other teachers in the meantime. Not all of them are as considerate of the students as I.”

As the woman walked away, John stood blinking for a few seconds. Considerate of the students? Of the entire faculty at Ashcroft, Wentworth was known to every student as being the most strict, the least considerate and someone who would suffer neither fools nor excuses. She’d even publicly dressed down Vanessa at one point in a manner no other teacher would dare, and the cheerleader hadn’t just listened - she’d apologised!

Shaking his head to clear it, John’s thoughts drifted back to the weird flickering Status window. Opting to check to make sure nothing weird was happening, he paused for a moment. Everything seemed fine when he opened it, except… there was a notification. Tapping the icon, he quickly skimmed the text of the achievement he’d seemingly gained - and then grabbed the wall to steady himself from the shock.

The rest of lunch was a blur after that. John vaguely managed talking to Wesley and eating food, but beyond that everything was just a haze of worry and concern. Given he knew that the new teacher was only level 16, and given the timing of the achievement, there was only one conclusion - that Wentworth herself was the one that was apparently so much more powerful than he was. The news that one of his teachers was some kind of overpowered monster was one hell of a shock; he knew there were other Abyssals at Ashcroft, but until today he’d assumed that list didn’t include members of the faculty.

In the end, given there was no forthcoming sudden demise, John did his best to get on with his day. He did make a note to discuss everything he’d discovered about both Wentworth and Smythe with Rebecca (or preferably Moira) when he next spoke to them though, and by the end of his tutorial session, he was more or less past the initial shock of apparently staring death in the face and not noticing.

The final classes of the day helped as well - it was hard to be worried about theoretical injury after an inattentive swing of a hammer had you sucking your thumb with an actual one. John was just thankful that he’d not been using full force and had instead been lightly tapping the nail in to make the task take longer while he was lost in his thoughts. They’d started new projects that afternoon, and he’d opted to work on a bird box that he was debating painting and offering as a gift to Matilda… assuming of course he could finish assembling it without any further injury.

Putting his focus on his work helped ground him, and combined with thoughts of his girlfriend got him through the rest of the day. The instant the bell rang, John was out of the building and away from dangerous history teachers. There was a coffee shop a few streets over, and as he turned the corner, all thoughts of near-doom (not to mention woodworking injuries) drifted away at the sight of the afternoon sun shining down on the brunette sitting in a t-shirt and jeans and sipping a latte while she waited for him.