4. The New Assistant

The next morning came quietly.

I woke up on the couch in the room. Half-lost in the thoughts I couldn't shake off from yesterday. Yesterday was the scariest day of my life. I had faced two reflections of myself…in the form of students. Liora, blazing with raw emotion and unrestrained power, was the student I had once ignored; she kept following the script without knowing anything about it. The one who needed understanding, not just discipline. Caleb was the other extreme of me. Cold. Calculated. Cautious. A mind sharpened like a blade. He reminded me too much of who I used to be, the part of me that believed strength came from solitude and superiority.

I stood up from the couch and did some stretching as my old habit. I went to the washroom and washed my face. Forget about yesterday; let's just focus on today, as I looked at myself in the mirror. Today, I would teach a class of students, not just one student, but students. I may have failed to try guiding the past of myself, Caleb. However, the new me would take a different path.

Caleb Seraphine, one day, I will guide you…

…

I went to the living room, and eventually, the room had a small apartment specification. Two rooms and one bathroom with a washroom. It was like a dorm, a teacher's dorm. I went to the desk where the white robe and the black robe were hanging on the chair. Both were neatly draped on the back of the chair like two sides of a coin, which I no longer wanted to flip. Just a choice.

The black robe was carried. My past. Discipline. Authority.

The white robe was quiet. A sign of correction or maybe…surrender.

What was I now? Neither of those robes could answer that.

Maybe—maybe—maybe I wasn't meant to fit into either role anymore.

Not a title. Not a rank. Not the robe I wore. Just Alaric. The new me.

I turned away from the desk and walked towards the wardrobe. I want to know what was inside it. What were the usual clothes Alaric Mordane wore?

As I opened it, everything was clean. Nothing like ceremonial robes. Nothing that demanded authority or discipline. Everything was like a vest with a high-collared dress shirt. I took the darkest shirt and the darkest vest, which was black but had a brown palette.

As I had worn it, I looked at the mirror. My reflection looked like a man. Not a professor. Not a lecturer. Maybe that was enough for me right now.

…

Suddenly, there were some knocks on the door.

I walked towards it and opened it…

She stood there, perhaps in her nineteen or twenty years. Red hair slightly orange, eyes sharp, maybe too sharp for her age. White robe – she wore it.

"Sir Alaric Mordane?"

Her voice was so clear, a little too formal for how young she looked.

I answered, "Yes?"

"I am Sylen Elira, Sir. Assistant assigned by the board. I'll be helping your class and teaching starting today. Lesson report, student evaluations… and mostly paperwork."

I blinked. "They assigned me an assistant?"

"Well, Sir. After what had happened with Caleb Seraphine… " I cleared my throat, hearing that. "The board wants someone to guide you, as you have changed, Sir."

Changed, huh? Did that mean Alaric Mordane, actually a talented person, was feared by his students? The flaw I showed Caleb was actually a fatal one, I thought.

"I actually don't mind the assistant. It actually will be helping me a lot." It was the first time mine had an assistant. In my past, I did it by myself; I didn't need anyone to do my job.

"So, sir, are you ready? Or perhaps you need some time…"

"Ah, right!" I stepped out and closed the door. "Of course. I am ready…"

She was looking at me from the tip of my toes to the tip of my head. Until her gaze paused for too long on my vest.

"You're not wearing the robe, Sir."

It wasn't any question. Just her observation…

"I chose not to," I said simply.

"Is that really okay, Sir?" She paused and stared at me. She dared to stare longer; it meant her stare had a meaning. It was something else. Her eyes flickered down again to the vest I wore. Maybe the absence of the official white robe lingered in her mind.

"I mean, if you're not wearing the robe, how will they know who you are, right?" Her voice became quieter, almost like she was talking to herself rather than me.

A beat of silence passed.

She took a glance at me. This time, with something like caution in her voice, masked in formality or joking, "Or maybe I am wrong; everyone already knows you. So it doesn't really matter. Or does it?"

I didn't answer it. The question hung in the air between us. She didn't press it any further. But I felt she needed me to be something. I was demoted, so I needed to show that. A symbol. A rank. A rule.

"So, may we go to the class? We surely don't want the student waiting." I said to change the atmosphere.

"Sure, Sir." She replied with a slight smile, but I could sense the lingering uncertainty in her eyes.

…

..

.

On the way to the class, my old habit came out, as I loved analysing people around me. How they walked. How they spoke. How they acted. I had always been that way. I didn't just stare; I studied you.

Sylen, in front of me, walked two steps ahead, composed, but her back was not relaxed. Like her posture, it was surely perfect, yet it was so deliberate. The kind of precision someone used to make sure they weren't seen faltering. But there were cracks. The more you showed how perfect you were, the more cracks you showed.

She wasn't making any eye contact. Her hands occasionally tightened at her sides, like she was holding something back. It wasn't her nerves, but something else.

I believed she was thinking about me, where her silence would say, You were just demoted, and now you walk like nothing happened.

I didn't fault her for thinking that. If I were her, trained to respect the hierarchy and system, I would feel the same. To her, I must've looked like a contradiction. No white robe. No shame. Just a man walking calmly.

Then again, maybe that was what unsettled her most. That I didn't seem to be pretending at all.

"So Sylen, right?" I needed to guide her not to become me, my past.

"Yes, Sir Alaric."

"You are my assistant, which means, do you want to become a teacher?"

There was some hesitation from her before she answered.

"Yes, Sir. That is my intention."

"Why?" I asked…

She glanced at me quickly. "I believe in the Academy's mission," she said, "to guide and shape the next generation of mages with structure, consistency, and tradition."

A textbook answer. Eventually, that was my old answer.

"I see…" I replied as if nothing had happened.

Sylen Elira, you were so young. You had determination. However, I hope you do not drown yourself in your view.

…

As we almost reached the final corridor before reaching the classroom.

The path forked, which I remembered; the door on the right hall was the door where the separation between the white robe and the black robe began. We were walking past the door, but we were in front of the door. The door was opened.

Caleb Seraphine.

He came from the door, black robe, his boots silent as he walked, posture refined like a robot. His eyes flicked to me. And our eyes met. Not a blink. Not a flinch. Our eyes met; together, it was like an eternity, but it was actually for only a second. No words. No gestures. Just that unreadable gaze. We passed each other like it was nothing.

Sylen said nothing, but I saw her; she looked back at him, then at me.

I kept walking. Didn't need to look back.

…

Finally, we reached the classroom. While we were in front of the classroom, I took a deep breath. Sylen opened the door. And we took some steps inside, and I looked at the class. It was different from the class; I met with Caleb. That class was more like a lecture hall with a courtroom vibe. However, this class was like a normal classroom, where each student had their own desk.

In my past life, school could be arranged based on age because the real purpose of school was for growth. However, as I looked in this classroom, there weren't any based on age. I looked, and someone was younger, shorter, or maybe older. Based on my assumption, the students in here ranged from fourteen to eighteen.

However, the surprising thing to me was the number of students. When I was in elementary school, the classroom would always have forty students, junior high would always have thirty to forty, and senior high would always have thirty. But in this classroom, there were only eight students.