Negotiations were a stunning success!

Okay, she did trip over, and I may have given her a slight scare, but since then she's been giving me regular lessons for the past two months without realising I'm an undead. She truly is a benevolent soul, although I do worry how she could trust such a stranger so easily.

I visit her place every four days, and leave on the third to hunt. I only appear once the children leave, and she immediately begins lessons. She even provides homework, which I quickly complete and revise throughout my sleepless nights. I've never been so glad to study.

Every once in a while, I bring back some game, which she indirectly trades with the woodsman. i.e. she leaves the meat at her gate, and a burly man arrives to switch for a basket of basic necessities.

Why are the villagers avoiding direct contact? It can't be for quarantine, since the children often visit.

Once my vocabulary has improved, I will have to ask her. She has noticed my desire to learn speech, but my pitifully small mana pool is making things difficult. Still, I managed to learn her name: Helena. I try telling her my own, but she keeps calling me "Enbos". I wonder what it means? I look forward to the day I can hold a conversation for longer than five minutes.

Speaking of magic, I was pretty surprised to see Helena cast a fire spell on the first night I met her. Once I am articulate, should I ask her to teach me magic as well?

I shake my head as I glare at my MP meter once more. Curse you! Why must skeletons start with so little mana? I need to keep grinding.

As predicted, my growth has slowed to a crawl. My three-day routine has extended to four, and there is nothing to hunt other than hares, birds, giant squirrels and the occasional boar. I try to train my body, but I feel no strain nor effort in my actions. I guess body building is impossible if I'm just bones. However, I do try to develop techniques, like the time I acquired . It's not a guarantee, as I'm technically recreating a skill I do not know from the World Stream.

I finish my day by spearing some fish from a nearby stream, before I wash my cloak and bathe under the moonlight. After smoothing the creases and drying my clothes over a small, makeshift fire, I immediately walk towards the direction of her cabin.

I hope she isn't sick of seeing me... Why am I so eager to meet her?

I know exactly why. I have never felt so at peace since my rebirth. This feeling that I'm part of someone's life is enough to distract me from my inner turmoil. At this rate, my journey of self discovery could end here, spending my days travelling to and fro, getting to know Helena... But that won't happen. The fact I'm hiding my true form hangs over my every action.

I pause, and deliberately use a point of mana to sigh.

Ding!

Project Voice (Greater): This skill is now a passive with no MP upkeep.>

"Seriously!?"

----------------------------------------

It has been a little over two months since I started teaching a skeleton. After giving me the worst scare in my entire life, he followed up with the most surreal request in the history of Aren.

I sit on my wooden chair by the fireplace and look back at the calendar. He's coming here today. Probably with another hare or bird. He is so diligent with his offerings that he puts the village hunters to shame!

I smile wryly, then begin preparing our lesson for today. Using , I continue to write in a tray of sand while I look back on his progress. He learns much faster than Anna, Kyle or Joel. As a result, I have to prepare two different sets of lessons. I try to keep his education at the children's level by giving him vocabulary lessons, though it seems he can't speak for long.

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At one time, I tried to teach him math. But after learning to count to ten, he starts writing these amazing calculations which are surprisingly right. He is an unexpected genius in that respect, and his Arenish is quickly improving. I suspect the ghostly voices from the forest that the villagers hear are just him practising his words. It truly is an amusing thought.

At first I thought he was a blank slate, but now I think he is closer to being a foreigner. But why is an undead trying to learn? Aren't they supposed to be mindless monsters, or wicked villains?

I imagine a scene where a lone immigrant is wandering the woods, before an evil mage turns him into a skeleton. Is such a thing too farfetched?

I finish practising my own notes, then stare at the tray in silence. They are learning so fast. The children will probably stop visiting when they come of age, but will he still stay once I teach him everything he wants?

I am glad I met someone so interesting. Between the children's secret arrivals and the skeleton's regular sessions, I no longer feel secluded. That moment is now nothing but a bad dream. I wish I could feel this way for the rest of my life.

But one day it will come, when I must bid my students farewell, and hope for the best in their lives. It's only appropriate as their teacher I prepare a final gift...

But that day is still far off, and besides, I can't let such a hopeless numbskull leave just yet. He still believes I haven't noticed, as if his disguise is perfect! Every time I ask him to stay for dinner, he overreacts. I comment on his "slim" fingers, he starts padding his gloves. I am even calling him "Enbos", but he still hasn't realised my mockery.

At first I didn't tell him because it seemed funny, but now I can't tell him because he tries so hard! One time, he mumbled something about, "go... to village." I had to quickly stop him and make an excuse about his clothing. His mask once cracked in the middle of a lesson, so he pulled up his cloak and fled. He had not noticed his bony ankles were exposed!

"Sigh, what shall I ever do to right such a thick skull?"

At that very moment, the door flies open and an excited voice bellows, "I'm ready for next lesson!"

Startled, I conjure a and instinctively throw it at his head. Luckily, he manages to duck in time. The spell harmlessly hits the ground.

"?rof taht saw tahW," he asks.

He accidently slips back to his native tongue, but the meaning is obvious.

"Sorry Enbos, it was so sudden and..."

... I am still not used to your presence. You have no idea how much dark magic is seeping from that travelling pouch!

"A-ah, okay. I... be the one sorry. Teacher, may spend day... practise speaking?"

"Of course we may," I say in response, ignoring the fact I had prepared a written problem.

"But I thought you were too shy to practice?"

"N-no."

"Then why do you always speak less than a dozen words?"

He goes silent at my question, trying to make an excuse but failing. I almost laugh at his stumbling. It may be in bad taste, but it's fun to tease him.

Attempting to change the topic, he asks the worst question possible.

"W-why... you live alone in forest?"

It is my turn to go silent. I could feel all the warmth in the room disappear. Enbos notices his insensitive mistake, and tries to apologise. But against all his expectations, and before he could even speak, I begin to tell my tale.