I thanked the Professor as we left. I thought it was only appropriate. ‘Ah, we learned nothing today,’ the loud one kept uttering as we walked away from the dreary house. I was furious with that behaviour. There was not a sense of dignity in his mannerism, and his voice irked me. Karla didn’t say anything about the lecture, and I did not ask. It was proper this way, but Eric still continued, ‘If only he had taught us instead of that long explanation.’ His sighs added to my displeasure, and yet nothing stopped him. Drop from the course then, I thought, unable to voice my opinions. Professor’s voice echoed in my head, Ormosphite. I wondered where I could acquire some. It is rare, is it not? Where did Professor get it from? I pondered on it, but nothing came to mind. ‘Professor is too obnoxious,’ said my supposed friend. ‘Warns too much.’
‘Someone stupid might do something stupid. That is why he warns,’ I said tauntingly, unable to hold back anymore. Everyone else seems to be fine with him. You are the obnoxious one. I liked the Professor. He was courteous. He had no reason to call his students with such politeness, adding appropriate titles to their names. He was in a greater position. One of the very few who could use magic. I liked that such a person was not a scoundrel. I approved of him. ‘He needs to teach the basics first. That is only natural, is it not? Did you learn to fight your foes before you learned to swing your sword?’
‘Oh, yes, I did. I took a sword and rushed towards my brother,’ he boasted.
My face crumpled in disgust at that. No one needed to tell me; I could see the fear in Eric’s eyes. Mine were far scarier when I wished them to be. ‘And, what was the result? Did you win?’ I intoned.
‘Afraid not. He beat me until I was lying on the ground, groaning and crying.’ I appreciated that. ‘He is a monster.’
‘He did it so you would not act on your impulse so quickly,’ I said as Karla agreed in short nods. ‘He helped you,’ — Moron — ‘Be appreciative.’ I believed that was only right.
‘Yes, yes.’ As usual, Eric shirked off any responsibility he should bear. ‘Anyway, what will you be doing now, Selena?’ He looked at me. I could tell he wanted to divert the topic. I was no stranger to diversion. ‘I have swordsmanship classes right away. O gods, please do not make it theoretical, I beg you. I am bored out of my mind as is.’
‘I will go to the library,’ I answered. I did not know what book I would find, and what page I would read, but that was the place to be for me. Literature or knowledge? I wondered.
The Professor had spoken about laws and whatnot. Magic requires knowledge, I had come across a clue I deemed worthy of my attention. So, after bidding Karla and Eric goodbye, I first went to the canteen. I had left without breakfast, and I regretted it a little. My head was light, so I allowed myself the pleasure of having a salad and a sandwich. After which, I walked around a little and left for the library of the academy. There was a large one, filled to the ceiling outside the academy grounds, but I did not go there. Leaving the academy at academy hours? Eric would do something so egregious.
I walked the paved path that led to the library. Like any other building on the academy grounds, it too was light brown in shade. There were a number of windows that allowed light inside. It was an environment of silence, but it did not feel abandoned or desolate like that place. Even though fewer students are present currently. The librarian checked my identification badge.
‘Freshman,’ she said, noticing only one star over the engraved name. She allowed me in, and I thanked her.
I spent some time walking between the aisles, finding the one with the nameplate that read: Physics. I wondered who the Professor of Physics was and if I should join that class for the sake of my Magical studies. There were no students there, so I searched for a while, unobstructed. I was about to retrieve a large book that read: The Basics of Physics when I noticed a woman at the end of the aisle. Heles. It was the daughter of Duke Heles. You too took the course, didn’t you? I had noticed her sitting in the front just this morning. I did not particularly hate her, but I had little liking for her kind. I thought about ignoring her and went to put the book in my satchel. Where? Huh? Where is it? I thought in surprise. The satchel bag was missing. I spent a moment to look around but to no avail. Did I leave it behind? What should I do? I stood around for a while, but then seeing that girl looking through those books, I quickly rushed to find my bag. I hope it is there, I thought as my steps took me to that desolate and haunting place.
***
I had been reading the newspaper when it was brought to my attention that I was not alone in the dreary building. I heard the wood creak, and I felt the tremors. I was less worried but more wary. Who could it be? I thought while grasping for my matchbox. The noises came closer, and the creaks soon became silent. Knock, knock. I heard the knocks while sweat trickled down my cheeks. ‘Who is it?’ I asked in a trembling voice. I wondered if I had signed my own death, but soon the voice spoke.
‘Veronica Orchard,’ it said.
I was relieved and I was alive. No man could feel more joy than when his life is spared. The House of the Haunted. I was reminded once again of the name of this place. It truly lived up to its name, and I was the first to admit it. Who bears shame in fear? I, of course. ‘Do come in,’ I said belatedly. I was a courteous man; tardiness and untidiness did not suit me. ‘Apologies,’ I said, as my visitor entered the room. ‘The place is yet to be arranged properly.’ I bore the face of a man caught in a scandal. There was a slight tinge of red on me, an indicator of my shame. I offered a glass of water to my visitor, sure of its cleanliness. ‘Here.’
‘Thank you,’ said the ever-reticent Ms Orchard, taking a seat in front of me. She had a sip and delicately put the glass down. ‘How do you do, Lile?’
‘I have been fine,’ I answered politely, examining the woman. She did not seem to be in distress or in unease despite the unnerving place.
‘How did the lecture go?’
‘It was great on most accounts, but I wished I had a little more time. There were points that I wanted to share.’ I took a look around the office. I had two offices now, but this one scared me. It was small. One side had two wide windows, while on my left was a door. Behind me was a blackboard and in front a table beyond which was empty space. That emptiness played with my mind. I would not lower my head while sitting at the table. I was afraid someone or something might spring up out of thin air. I wished to leave the vicinity of this dreary place right away. I was too excited, and I was afraid I would end up burning the place. ‘You came so far, Mr Orchard,’ I said while turning my eyes to the emptiness behind her every once in a while. Thank you. ‘How may I help you?’
‘I did not come on any errand. Well, I do have an errand, but that is not why I came,’ the woman said without a shred of remorse or regret. ‘I meant to see you. This place is not very amiable, I have heard.’ Her eyes looked around the room. She spoke the truth. The place was far desolate. ‘Do you feel anything off?’
Should I? I panicked, looking around like a lost lamb, scared. ‘Oh, no, there isn’t anything here,’ said my colleague after giving me a nice afternoon scare. How lovely. ‘The place is off-putting to many. It observes erratic behaviour in the human mind. People tend to be anxious here.’
I hoped that it was simply nerves and nodded. I suppose I should be careful. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘The area alarms me. I have instructed the students to stay away as much as possible.’ I kept shaking my head in disapproval. ‘I like the place when I am not alone. It feels macabre, rather entertaining. But when in the company of no one but yourself, the silence became a deadly poison. This is simply torture. I wish we were allowed some other place, but the institution lacks it.’ I sighed a little and rubbed my eyes after removing my spectacles. I was not afraid of giving my vision rest. Ms Orchard is here. ‘Thank you for coming,’ I said while donning my spectacles. ‘I hope it was not unnerving.’ Is there anything that could unnerve her? ‘What is this errand you spoke of?’ I asked, recalling the woman’s words.
She produced an envelope from the inner pocket of her black tailcoat and handed it to me. ‘The Martial Department has a request for you. They handed it to me, seeing as I was on the way.’ I understood the sentiment. Even the most fearsome should stay away from this place.
I opened the envelope to find a letter inside and asked, ‘What is it about?’
‘They did not mention.’
It was written in neat handwriting. I read it once and hummed the second time. ‘Full-Moon Hunt,’ I said, contemplating. ‘That is what this is about.’ I had thought about this particular thing before, and now here it was.
Ms Orchard made a sound of agreement. ‘There were rumours.’
‘I did hear some,’ I agreed. ‘Mr Quincy was the one who mentioned I believe.’
‘Will you go?’ She bore neither worry nor curiosity.
‘I must. I am in no position to say otherwise.’ I looked at the paper once again. There was a signature at the end. Arsene Nuemic, it read. The handwriting and the signature are…not the same. A different hand wrote this letter. A clerk, I suppose. ‘And I am curious as well. It should be fun.’
Ms Orchard must have thought me injured in the head, but I truly believed in my words. Hunting could be a joy. Of course, we were not hunting foxes and deer. ‘It is a necessary event. I shall take part, do my duty.’ Should I prepare first?
‘Have you eaten yet?’ asked the reticent woman. I looked at my pocket watch and came to the realisation that I had been here longer than I had meant. Quarter past Twelve. I have been too busy with cleaning. I had records and ledgers to arrange and transfer to the Biology branch. This is all their work. I also needed to check the facilities and stock the laboratories. ‘I have some work yet, Ms Orchard,’ I said to the woman, apologetic as I could be. ‘Forgive me. It will take some time.’
‘Is it a lot?’
‘Half an hour should suffice.’
‘I will help,’ she said, and I gratefully accepted. It was not her work, and it was not her duty. But I knew she thought differently. She was a gentle soul, one I was thankful towards. ‘You did not inform the Dean yet?’ she asked while reading through a record.
It did not take long for me to know what it was about. I said a clear no, and when asked why, answered honestly. She seemed to have understood despite the conflict in her behaviour. And so passed half an hour. There was still a little work to do, but I figured lunch and good company meant more.
While leaving the place, I found the door to the house ajar and wondered if Ms Orchard had left it open. No matter. But I thought no more of it and tottered alongside Ms Orchard towards that place of goodwill and mercy — the canteen. Mr Quincy and Ms Oak were there. We had a little discussion while delicious food graced our bellies. Both of them mentioned concern over my decision to accept the invitation to Full-Moon Hunt. I assured them I would be nothing but cautious, and given my trade, they accepted my words that implied that the scrawny professor knows about safety. I indeed did.
‘What will you do now?’ asked Ms Oak. I pondered what she meant, but she clarified for my sake. ‘You have the afternoon free, do you not? Will you go back to that place?’ Oh, no, no. I am not going there.
‘I think I will visit the Art Department,’ I told them proudly.
‘You wish to see that painting of yours, Mr Dew?’ Mr Quincy asked jokingly.
‘No, no.’ I did not wish to be seen as an egomaniac. Though I am curious… ‘I think I will play the piano.’ It has been a while, and that magic fascinates me.
Mr Quincy exclaimed in joy. ‘That is exciting.’ Then he sighed. ‘I wish I could witness it, but I have a lecture afterwards.’ He was crestfallen.
‘I will play for you someday when I have sharpened my rusted skills.’ I tried to cheer his spirits. I think it worked. He seemed thankful, at the least.
‘May I accompany you?’ asked Ms Orchard.
‘Gladly,’ I replied. And after the fulfilling lunch, we left together for the Art department. The grounds of this particular department were nestled in the central northwest area. That particular sector, like mine, had a gloomy look to it. I walked alongside Ms Orchard while she reciprocated the hellos of her students. She also teaches Literature, does she not? I had been thinking of her as a professor of Behavioural Science first and foremost so far. I wondered what mattered more to her but did not ask.
From afar, as I was thinking, we spotted a familiar figure that rushed towards us like lighting — Professor of Aesthetics, Ms Solvent herself. Professor Dumb-dumb. I did not name her that. I was not so crude and crass. Some students talked so about her. I simply happened to be listening, thinking it was me they slandered. How could they speak so about their mentors? I was furious in hindsight. I should have threatened them with something ridiculous, like…ah yes! ‘I will grow worm eggs in your ears if you continue to be so defiant!’ That should scare them! I laughed inside villainously. While my thoughts turned to the darker side, Ms Solvent led us to the Piano room, chattering excitedly.
I saw the familiar corridors pass by us, and when I sat on the wide stool and dangled my hands over the keys, neither of my colleagues spoke. I knew how to play this instrument, and I had learned from one of the best. I wondered if I could recreate it, and while the birds chirped, watching us through their curious little eyes, I played. It was the same piece my mother had played that night.
I recalled it still — that beauteous melody, that sorrow and that melancholy. That night, she had played with much more heart. That scene played on the drapes of my mind. That night, she had played to the word of my father’s death. It was her last goodbye as she sat with her back towards us…while tears fell, hidden behind that little back. I recalled it still, her agony. And I recalled it still, the warm memory of a cold night.
I thanked the Professor as we left. I thought it was only appropriate. ‘Ah, we learned nothing today,’ the loud one kept uttering as we walked away from the dreary house. I was furious with that behaviour. There was not a sense of dignity in his mannerism, and his voice irked me. Karla didn’t say anything about the lecture, and I did not ask. It was proper this way, but Eric still continued, ‘If only he had taught us instead of that long explanation.’ His sighs added to my displeasure, and yet nothing stopped him. Drop from the course then, I thought, unable to voice my opinions. Professor’s voice echoed in my head, Ormosphite. I wondered where I could acquire some. It is rare, is it not? Where did Professor get it from? I pondered on it, but nothing came to mind. ‘Professor is too obnoxious,’ said my supposed friend. ‘Warns too much.’
‘Someone stupid might do something stupid. That is why he warns,’ I said tauntingly, unable to hold back anymore. Everyone else seems to be fine with him. You are the obnoxious one. I liked the Professor. He was courteous. He had no reason to call his students with such politeness, adding appropriate titles to their names. He was in a greater position. One of the very few who could use magic. I liked that such a person was not a scoundrel. I approved of him. ‘He needs to teach the basics first. That is only natural, is it not? Did you learn to fight your foes before you learned to swing your sword?’
‘Oh, yes, I did. I took a sword and rushed towards my brother,’ he boasted.
My face crumpled in disgust at that. No one needed to tell me; I could see the fear in Eric’s eyes. Mine were far scarier when I wished them to be. ‘And, what was the result? Did you win?’ I intoned.
‘Afraid not. He beat me until I was lying on the ground, groaning and crying.’ I appreciated that. ‘He is a monster.’
‘He did it so you would not act on your impulse so quickly,’ I said as Karla agreed in short nods. ‘He helped you,’ — Moron — ‘Be appreciative.’ I believed that was only right.
‘Yes, yes.’ As usual, Eric shirked off any responsibility he should bear. ‘Anyway, what will you be doing now, Selena?’ He looked at me. I could tell he wanted to divert the topic. I was no stranger to diversion. ‘I have swordsmanship classes right away. O gods, please do not make it theoretical, I beg you. I am bored out of my mind as is.’
‘I will go to the library,’ I answered. I did not know what book I would find, and what page I would read, but that was the place to be for me. Literature or knowledge? I wondered.
The Professor had spoken about laws and whatnot. Magic requires knowledge, I had come across a clue I deemed worthy of my attention. So, after bidding Karla and Eric goodbye, I first went to the canteen. I had left without breakfast, and I regretted it a little. My head was light, so I allowed myself the pleasure of having a salad and a sandwich. After which, I walked around a little and left for the library of the academy. There was a large one, filled to the ceiling outside the academy grounds, but I did not go there. Leaving the academy at academy hours? Eric would do something so egregious.
I walked the paved path that led to the library. Like any other building on the academy grounds, it too was light brown in shade. There were a number of windows that allowed light inside. It was an environment of silence, but it did not feel abandoned or desolate like that place. Even though fewer students are present currently. The librarian checked my identification badge.
‘Freshman,’ she said, noticing only one star over the engraved name. She allowed me in, and I thanked her.
I spent some time walking between the aisles, finding the one with the nameplate that read: Physics. I wondered who the Professor of Physics was and if I should join that class for the sake of my Magical studies. There were no students there, so I searched for a while, unobstructed. I was about to retrieve a large book that read: The Basics of Physics when I noticed a woman at the end of the aisle. Heles. It was the daughter of Duke Heles. You too took the course, didn’t you? I had noticed her sitting in the front just this morning. I did not particularly hate her, but I had little liking for her kind. I thought about ignoring her and went to put the book in my satchel. Where? Huh? Where is it? I thought in surprise. The satchel bag was missing. I spent a moment to look around but to no avail. Did I leave it behind? What should I do? I stood around for a while, but then seeing that girl looking through those books, I quickly rushed to find my bag. I hope it is there, I thought as my steps took me to that desolate and haunting place.
***
I had been reading the newspaper when it was brought to my attention that I was not alone in the dreary building. I heard the wood creak, and I felt the tremors. I was less worried but more wary. Who could it be? I thought while grasping for my matchbox. The noises came closer, and the creaks soon became silent. Knock, knock. I heard the knocks while sweat trickled down my cheeks. ‘Who is it?’ I asked in a trembling voice. I wondered if I had signed my own death, but soon the voice spoke.
‘Veronica Orchard,’ it said.
I was relieved and I was alive. No man could feel more joy than when his life is spared. The House of the Haunted. I was reminded once again of the name of this place. It truly lived up to its name, and I was the first to admit it. Who bears shame in fear? I, of course. ‘Do come in,’ I said belatedly. I was a courteous man; tardiness and untidiness did not suit me. ‘Apologies,’ I said, as my visitor entered the room. ‘The place is yet to be arranged properly.’ I bore the face of a man caught in a scandal. There was a slight tinge of red on me, an indicator of my shame. I offered a glass of water to my visitor, sure of its cleanliness. ‘Here.’
‘Thank you,’ said the ever-reticent Ms Orchard, taking a seat in front of me. She had a sip and delicately put the glass down. ‘How do you do, Lile?’
‘I have been fine,’ I answered politely, examining the woman. She did not seem to be in distress or in unease despite the unnerving place.
‘How did the lecture go?’
‘It was great on most accounts, but I wished I had a little more time. There were points that I wanted to share.’ I took a look around the office. I had two offices now, but this one scared me. It was small. One side had two wide windows, while on my left was a door. Behind me was a blackboard and in front a table beyond which was empty space. That emptiness played with my mind. I would not lower my head while sitting at the table. I was afraid someone or something might spring up out of thin air. I wished to leave the vicinity of this dreary place right away. I was too excited, and I was afraid I would end up burning the place. ‘You came so far, Mr Orchard,’ I said while turning my eyes to the emptiness behind her every once in a while. Thank you. ‘How may I help you?’
‘I did not come on any errand. Well, I do have an errand, but that is not why I came,’ the woman said without a shred of remorse or regret. ‘I meant to see you. This place is not very amiable, I have heard.’ Her eyes looked around the room. She spoke the truth. The place was far desolate. ‘Do you feel anything off?’
Should I? I panicked, looking around like a lost lamb, scared. ‘Oh, no, there isn’t anything here,’ said my colleague after giving me a nice afternoon scare. How lovely. ‘The place is off-putting to many. It observes erratic behaviour in the human mind. People tend to be anxious here.’
I hoped that it was simply nerves and nodded. I suppose I should be careful. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘The area alarms me. I have instructed the students to stay away as much as possible.’ I kept shaking my head in disapproval. ‘I like the place when I am not alone. It feels macabre, rather entertaining. But when in the company of no one but yourself, the silence became a deadly poison. This is simply torture. I wish we were allowed some other place, but the institution lacks it.’ I sighed a little and rubbed my eyes after removing my spectacles. I was not afraid of giving my vision rest. Ms Orchard is here. ‘Thank you for coming,’ I said while donning my spectacles. ‘I hope it was not unnerving.’ Is there anything that could unnerve her? ‘What is this errand you spoke of?’ I asked, recalling the woman’s words.
She produced an envelope from the inner pocket of her black tailcoat and handed it to me. ‘The Martial Department has a request for you. They handed it to me, seeing as I was on the way.’ I understood the sentiment. Even the most fearsome should stay away from this place.
I opened the envelope to find a letter inside and asked, ‘What is it about?’
‘They did not mention.’
It was written in neat handwriting. I read it once and hummed the second time. ‘Full-Moon Hunt,’ I said, contemplating. ‘That is what this is about.’ I had thought about this particular thing before, and now here it was.
Ms Orchard made a sound of agreement. ‘There were rumours.’
‘I did hear some,’ I agreed. ‘Mr Quincy was the one who mentioned I believe.’
‘Will you go?’ She bore neither worry nor curiosity.
‘I must. I am in no position to say otherwise.’ I looked at the paper once again. There was a signature at the end. Arsene Nuemic, it read. The handwriting and the signature are…not the same. A different hand wrote this letter. A clerk, I suppose. ‘And I am curious as well. It should be fun.’
Ms Orchard must have thought me injured in the head, but I truly believed in my words. Hunting could be a joy. Of course, we were not hunting foxes and deer. ‘It is a necessary event. I shall take part, do my duty.’ Should I prepare first?
‘Have you eaten yet?’ asked the reticent woman. I looked at my pocket watch and came to the realisation that I had been here longer than I had meant. Quarter past Twelve. I have been too busy with cleaning. I had records and ledgers to arrange and transfer to the Biology branch. This is all their work. I also needed to check the facilities and stock the laboratories. ‘I have some work yet, Ms Orchard,’ I said to the woman, apologetic as I could be. ‘Forgive me. It will take some time.’
‘Is it a lot?’
‘Half an hour should suffice.’
‘I will help,’ she said, and I gratefully accepted. It was not her work, and it was not her duty. But I knew she thought differently. She was a gentle soul, one I was thankful towards. ‘You did not inform the Dean yet?’ she asked while reading through a record.
It did not take long for me to know what it was about. I said a clear no, and when asked why, answered honestly. She seemed to have understood despite the conflict in her behaviour. And so passed half an hour. There was still a little work to do, but I figured lunch and good company meant more.
While leaving the place, I found the door to the house ajar and wondered if Ms Orchard had left it open. No matter. But I thought no more of it and tottered alongside Ms Orchard towards that place of goodwill and mercy — the canteen. Mr Quincy and Ms Oak were there. We had a little discussion while delicious food graced our bellies. Both of them mentioned concern over my decision to accept the invitation to Full-Moon Hunt. I assured them I would be nothing but cautious, and given my trade, they accepted my words that implied that the scrawny professor knows about safety. I indeed did.
‘What will you do now?’ asked Ms Oak. I pondered what she meant, but she clarified for my sake. ‘You have the afternoon free, do you not? Will you go back to that place?’ Oh, no, no. I am not going there.
‘I think I will visit the Art Department,’ I told them proudly.
‘You wish to see that painting of yours, Mr Dew?’ Mr Quincy asked jokingly.
‘No, no.’ I did not wish to be seen as an egomaniac. Though I am curious… ‘I think I will play the piano.’ It has been a while, and that magic fascinates me.
Mr Quincy exclaimed in joy. ‘That is exciting.’ Then he sighed. ‘I wish I could witness it, but I have a lecture afterwards.’ He was crestfallen.
‘I will play for you someday when I have sharpened my rusted skills.’ I tried to cheer his spirits. I think it worked. He seemed thankful, at the least.
‘May I accompany you?’ asked Ms Orchard.
‘Gladly,’ I replied. And after the fulfilling lunch, we left together for the Art department. The grounds of this particular department were nestled in the central northwest area. That particular sector, like mine, had a gloomy look to it. I walked alongside Ms Orchard while she reciprocated the hellos of her students. She also teaches Literature, does she not? I had been thinking of her as a professor of Behavioural Science first and foremost so far. I wondered what mattered more to her but did not ask.
From afar, as I was thinking, we spotted a familiar figure that rushed towards us like lighting — Professor of Aesthetics, Ms Solvent herself. Professor Dumb-dumb. I did not name her that. I was not so crude and crass. Some students talked so about her. I simply happened to be listening, thinking it was me they slandered. How could they speak so about their mentors? I was furious in hindsight. I should have threatened them with something ridiculous, like…ah yes! ‘I will grow worm eggs in your ears if you continue to be so defiant!’ That should scare them! I laughed inside villainously. While my thoughts turned to the darker side, Ms Solvent led us to the Piano room, chattering excitedly.
I saw the familiar corridors pass by us, and when I sat on the wide stool and dangled my hands over the keys, neither of my colleagues spoke. I knew how to play this instrument, and I had learned from one of the best. I wondered if I could recreate it, and while the birds chirped, watching us through their curious little eyes, I played. It was the same piece my mother had played that night.
I recalled it still — that beauteous melody, that sorrow and that melancholy. That night, she had played with much more heart. That scene played on the drapes of my mind. That night, she had played to the word of my father’s death. It was her last goodbye as she sat with her back towards us…while tears fell, hidden behind that little back. I recalled it still, her agony. And I recalled it still, the warm memory of a cold night.
