Heartless - Chapter 7：Class

At the corner of my glasses, small words were printed out

‘Name: Wren Vasquez

Species: Incubus

Known Skill: Dream walking’

Dreamwalking, a basic skill for an incubus. He most likely had other skills up his sleeves, if not then there isn’t much reason to be in this class.

“Fallen for me?” Wren asked, what seemed to be a permanent smirk was plastered on his face.

“There’s nothing for me to fall for,” I responded.

“Roasted!” some of the students exclaimed out loud. I see most of them have already integrated themselves into human society. It also seems that most people here speak English.

“Using stupid human terms like those, our ancestors would certainly be disappointed in us,” another student responded with twinkling eyes, her voice tinted with a devilish charm.

‘Name: Olivia Fletcher

Species: Half Orc

How rare, most orcs and other non-magical beings have already fled to the bermuda triangle, the purebloods anyways. Though many have started to learn to integrate into human society, hiding in plain view. The vikings for once, were orcs, the shorter ones and looked quite a bit like humans.

“I see you are all lively fellows,” I said, projecting my voice above the chattering students. Only the first day and yet already so familiar with each other.

“However, I would like to ask why a human is here,” I asked plainly, looking at the black haired student. He wore a simple white polo and jeans. My question quickly quieted the class down, and they stared intently at both of us, hoping to catch even a trace of gossip.

He shivered ever so slightly when I stared at him. However, he soon gathered his courage and behind his glasses, his dark brown eyes started right back at me saying, “am I not supposed to be here?”

“Whether or not your supposed to be here has nothing to do with me, I simply wanted the class to quiet down as we must get to our lessons,” I responded, disappointing the students.

“You can call me Ms. Keith, any questions?” I asked.

“What is your race?” one asked.

The printed words popped up at the corner of my glasses yet again.

‘Name: Sylvan Lotr

Race: High Elf

Skill: Plant Manipulation’

I see, so this was the so called deity of the woods, or to put it in simpler terms, the genius of all Elven generations. The rumors were however, false. His strength wasn’t much, only strong in terms of this generation.

“I am raceless,” I told him, leaving him to raise his eyebrow.

“No one is raceless,” he replied.

I looked at him in the eye, invoking a slight shiver on his part, “we shall cover the topic of racelessness another day. Any other questions?” I asked, directing the second part to the class.

“What’s this class about?” Olivia asked, her lively eyes holding curiosity in it. I was curious once, so very long ago. When I was young and untethered, but that is a feeling I have long forgotten like many others.

“This is a class that simply answers what you’re confused about.”

“And if we are confused about nothing?” the incubus, Wren asked.

“Then we are to learn more about one’s race. Is that all the questions?”

I patiently waited a few seconds before proceeding, “As the bell will ring in 45 minutes, I shall teach you about how one can be without a race, anyone prefer something else?”

Silence met my question and I took that silence as a yes and so I started to teach.