And they went their separate ways: Oscar to the stables where he was stationed, and Thomas to the schoolhouse atop the northern hill. Plodding far from the main complex, the man trod an overgrown footpath, wildflowers by his feet swaying in the breeze, and the faded trail led up to a dilapidated, whitewashed wooden structure which overlooked the campus. Ivy-draped walls and boarded-up windows added to the already eerie atmosphere the site exuded.

Judging by the difference in architectural style from the rest of the academy facilities, the place was at least a century old—a two-story schoolhouse from a bygone era. Directly behind it was a dense, unending ocean of bare trees, the leaves they'd shed carpeting the ground in a patchwork of amber, russet, and fawn. Just as Oscar had mentioned, an unfinished leaf pile lay in front of the building, proof that the groundskeeper was spooked off halfway through his job.

Weather-beaten floorboards creaked as Thomas advanced onto the veranda, and shards of glass from a nearby fallen lantern crunched as he walked up to the entrance. It was difficult to picture anyone, let alone students of a cushy, private academy, braving the dingy, ramshackle state of this place. Nevertheless, if there was even the smallest chance his pupils were hiding out here, the man saw no choice but to press on.

And the doors groaned as they slammed shut behind him, sealing him within the dim confines of the deteriorating schoolhouse. Natural light seeped in through gaps between the planks nailed over the begrimed windowpanes, highlighting motes of dust that swirled in the stagnant air with every tentative movement Thomas made. The interior was just as sordid as if not more so than its run-down exterior; the location was nothing but a shell of its former self.

Before the man could properly explore the area, he took notice of the strange glowing orb speeding toward him from the far end of the corridor on his left. Squinting, he could distinctly make out facial features stitched onto its malformed surface. And as it drew closer and closer, it bore an uncanny resemblance to a human face. That was when it clicked for him that this was no orb. It was a severed head, no doubt the same one the groundskeeper bore witness to.

"Y-you've got to be kidding me..."

Thomas stumbled back, horrified by the monstrosity charging straight at him. A blood-curdling shriek reverberated through the hall, further weakening his resolve. Tempted as he was to turn on his heel and flee, the thought of his innocent students being trapped in this haunted building was enough to convince him to stand his ground and fight. And he took a deep breath and poised himself, angling his broad shoulders.

With his right leg slightly bent and his left leg drawn back, Thomas pushed forth an open palm and balled his hand near his waist, assuming a defensive stance. Eyes trained on the incoming spectre, he patiently stood fast and bided for the perfect time to parry. Once its ghastly visage was an arm's length from him, the man, with all of his might, unleashed a powerful strike that sent shockwaves rippling through the air.

Though his fist made contact with the floating head, Thomas was left stunned as it unceremoniously dissolved into a fine mist. His eyes darted around, searching for any trace of the phantasm, to no avail. It was only when his gaze fell upon the unusual markings beneath his shoes that he understood what had transpired. Late nights committed to perusing countless volumes about the inner workings of magicks finally came into use here.

Crouching down, the man dusted the ground, where his suspicions were swiftly confirmed. A magick circle had been etched into the floorboards, the runes nestled between the concentric rings denoting a complex illusion spell. Relatively fresh wood shavings indicated it was carved out fairly recently. While it explained the mystery behind the apparition, a question lingered in the back of his mind: "Who put this here?"

And the answer came to him in the form of muffled giggles, the source of which echoed from the floor above. With a careful gait, Thomas ascended the central staircase, voices growing louder with each measured step he took. On the second floor, he was bewildered to find the corridor ahead obstructed by a section of collapsed ceiling. Unshaken, however, he sought out a crevice through which he could pass through.

Finding a sizable gap behind the debris, the man attempted to squeeze through, sucking his gut in as he crawled in between a splintery bundle of broken planks. He wriggled out the other end and staggered to his feet, a little scratched up but still fully determined to uncover the identities of the people holed up here. In the depths of the hallway was an unclosed door, the only one he'd come across thus far. Quietly, he edged toward it, his back against the decaying panelled wall.

"Oi, Nia!" A small, rosy-cheeked girl shrilled from inside. "You haven't called Gretchen out this whole game! There's no way she had three kings just now! You two are in cahoots, aren't you?"

"You're just mad I've caught on to your bluffs every time, Lily!" A stocky, orcish girl chuckled.

"Now, now, you two, let's not fight," another girl intervened, sitting atop a desk just out of view. "There's no point in disputing the rounds this early. We still have plenty of sweets to go about."

Three schoolgirls in their academy uniforms were seated in a circle playing cards, laughing and chatting away without a care in the world. They had made the deserted classroom their own—a mound of desks veiled under white silken sheets, glass panes unblemished and unbarred, and a wide array of objects, some presumably stolen, scattered throughout. Among them was Oscar's hat and, as Mirabelle had foretold, the copper bowl.

They used what remained of the Linxuean sweets as stakes in their game; a handful of wrappers littered the floor. Their names corresponded to the ones in the academic files Thomas had consulted prior, which proved that these were, beyond a shadow of a doubt, his pupils. Betrayed and hurt, the man jutted his chin and barged in to confront them. Collectively, the girls fell silent and pivoted their heads, eyes riveted on the stranger before them.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

On the left was Lilith Stormfallow, a short, button-nosed halfling in long, curly pink pigtails. Despite her cute, childlike appearance, she was sixteen years of age, though based on reports, she tended to play up her innocence to trick others into believing otherwise. And on the right was Gretchen Schmidt, a stout, thickset orc whose eyes were completely obscured by the bangs of her umber bowl cut. There was not a lot to say except she was loud, brash, and destructive.

That was when it occurred to him this was the first time he'd seen their faces, since their dossiers didn't include any photos. And struck by a sudden case of cold feet, Thomas became tongue-tied. Only when he caught sight of the third student's countenance, high above the rest, did his apprehension melt away, replaced by a sense of déjà vu. "Wait a minute, it's you," he blurted as he locked gazes with the silver-haired elven girl from before.

Picking up on the glint in the elf's violet eyes, Lilith turned to her. "You know him, Nia?"

And with zero hesitation, she gently shook her head and simpered. "Mm, not really."

"Huh... well, he definitely seems to know you."

Inspecting him head-to-toe, Gretchen smirked. "Think he's here to confess his love to her?"

"Gross, another one?" As the orc cracked up, the halfling clicked her tongue. "I thought we were safe here from those kind of idiots. Did the circle downstairs break or something?"

"Hah! Poor guy thinks he has a shot with our Nia! What an idiot!" Gretchen roared with laughter.

"You're laughing way too much, dumbass..."

Unable to tolerate the abuse any longer, the man spoke up. "Um... I'm your new teacher. That candy doesn't belong to you. You took it from the classroom without asking, didn't you?"

His timid response was met with silence; the girls exchanged glances only to have their lips curled by mischievous smiles. Nia, clearly the leader of the trio, hopped off her desk and rested her hands on the small of her back. "Hm, did we, now?"

"That's right. You three also sacked the place in the process."

"Colour me surprised, you figured us out."

"Why would you do such a thing?"

"Let's see..." She tapped her slender digit against her chin. "We simply felt like it, I suppose?"

"You can't go around doing things just because you feel like it! That's a dangerous way to go about life. You need to learn the gravity of your actions and how they affect other people—!"

"And? What exactly do you propose we do?"

Thrown off balance by the girl's abrupt question, Thomas cleared his throat. "You could start by returning everything you've stolen to their rightful owners and apologising. That tophat over there belongs to someone I know—the same could be said for some of this stuff, couldn't it? While you're at it, I'd like you to clean up the mess you made in my classroom. Then, when that's been sorted, I think it's about high time you resumed classes."

Lilith and Gretchen snickered at his suggestions. "'Resume classes', he says," the orc wheezed.

"I'm afraid we can't do that. Or rather, we see no reason to." Mockingly, the elf asserted. "Apologies, but you'll have to tell the academy that we're quite content with our current arrangement and have no desire to give it up. I'm sure Linxuei, or wherever you're from, needs you more than we do. We'll take your sweets as an apology for disturbing our fun. Bye now."

"H-hold on, hear me out!" Out of desperation, the man held up his hands and resorted to the option he looked forward to the least. "What if we played a game to decide? If I win, you have to do as I say and attend classes without fail. If you win, I'll leave you with the rest of my Linxuean candy stash and resign from my position as your teacher. I'll also ask Grimwald, the headmaster and an old friend of mine, to leave you alone and give you free rein from now on. How's that?"

Baffled by his proposition, Nia shrugged her shoulders. "We are under no obligation to accept those conditions, I'll have you know. Having said that, however, that candy stash of yours does sound like an attractive offer. So, what kind of game did you have in mind? If it is of no interest to us, you can consider this the end of our conversation."

"Don't worry, I believe it plays to your strengths well!"

"My, how generous of you. And what are the rules to this contest of yours?"

"It's pretty straightforward. You each get an hour to try knocking me off my feet with your magicks, and I'm not allowed to fight back. If my butt touches the ground, it's your win. If all of you run out of time, will, or mana, it's my win. It's a game of offence versus defence. Easy, right?"

A hush descended over the room, and the elf moseyed up to the man, standing mere inches away from him. From up close, the violet in her irises appeared to intensify as she glared at him.

"Do you take us for fools, perhaps?"

"I... is there a problem?" Thomas' body tensed up.

"Either you have a death wish, or you're that overconfident in your abilities. Regardless, it is an insult to call this a fair game. We have defeated countless world-class magi, forced them out of this academy, and every one of them gave it their all in their attempt to thwart us."

"I'm aware of that much..."

"Even so, you still think you can win without laying a single finger on us?"

"Yep! So, are you in, or are you out?"

Lilith and Gretchen looked at one another, unsure of whether the man in front of them was cocky or insane. Nia, on the other hand, let out a sigh to compose herself. "Once again, I ask you: are you certain these are the terms you want to fight on? We're strong, you know?"

"I wouldn't have brought it up if I wasn't."

And the elf took a moment to gaze at him; she then gave a hollow smile and clapped her hands together. "Then that settles it. Does tomorrow afternoon at the western field work for you?"

"Y-yeah, sure." Thomas rubbed his neck, floored but relieved that she agreed at all. "I look forward to our match, you three! I really can't wait!"

"Neither can we." Nia swung around and leaned against the tower of desks. And a smirk played on her face, mirrored by her cohorts. "We really can't wait to wipe that smug look off your face."

Left with those ominous words, the man had successfully secured a match with the elusive trio that had terrorised the academy for so long.

And that was how he came to meet the problem magi.