The next instructor was almost as wonderful. G’Martin was a young man in his late twenties with large square glasses, a button-up, and neatly styled hair who inexplicably resembled a beagle puppy.

"I will be assessing your mathematical capabilities before we begin instruction," he explained, twiddling his pencil mindlessly between his fingers as he spoke. "It's important that every Dare understands at least the basics of the business applications of mathematics in order to manage the distribution of resources and other various applications within government."

He handed me a math test covering several different topics ranging from basic arithmetic to introductory calculus, and I felt a sense of peace settle over my bones as I took my pencil and began the test. I love math. I know that's not the most popular opinion, but it makes sense to me, and I have the best time manipulating equations to get what I want. There's a known set of rules, there is always a definitive answer, and there isn't any trickery or deception. It’s the one area where I don’t question my own judgements. 

It wasn’t long before I finished the exam and slid it back to the nerdy instructor. G’Martyn looked through it, almost smiling by the time he’d finished. "Do you like maths?" He asked.

"Very much."

A grin broke out over his face. "Then we can get on to some of the fun stuff," he said.

It was, all-in-all, a great lesson. I left with a smile on my face to have learned so many cool things.

Unfortunately, my smile was destined to die.

Rosamund was kind enough to tell me that the next lesson was over the history of Roanoke. I wasn't sure why she was so forthcoming, but then I recognized the hall before we reached the door, and Rosamund reduced her speed as we approached.

"Who is the instructor?" I asked, looking up at the virago.

She looked down to meet my eye, resignedly. "You will see."

Like that isn't the most terrifying sentence in the English language. "Any advice?"

She stared at the door as we grew closer. "Don't take anything personally. And..." she wavered with her hand raised to knock, "try to hold your tongue." With that, she knocked.

The door flew back revealing a grey old man with grey eyes, grey hair, and a grim, grey scowl. "It took you long enough!" He snapped, gesturing us in. "You must have lumbered here at the speed of a pregnant woman."

How was he stupid enough to mess with Rosamund? This man was easily a head shorter than her. I watched Rosamund, hoping she would deliver an uncharacteristically snippy reply or hit him or something else worthy of his comment, but she only crossed her arms in front of her, using her body language to convey her disapproval.

The old man scowled and muttered something under his breath, apparently oblivious of the fact that Rosamund could easily beat him up. He turned back and shuffled back to his desk, calling over his shoulder: "You may sit over there, virago."

She took the seat nearest the door and kept her eyes trained on the window, her jaw harder than diamond.

The old man settled back into his chair, noticing me for perhaps the first time. "What are you doing just standing there slack-jawed?" He snapped. "Sit!" He gestured toward the chair across the desk from him, and I took the seat with great resign. "Do you know who I am?"

I looked across the table, taking note of a paperweight sitting on his desk. I recognized the unique conical shape. It was the same paperweight Ace had stuck on the leather chair. I could finally understand what he meant by 'irksome.'

"I am Orac Alexander Payne. Do you know what an Orac is, young Dare?" He sneered.

Is it synonymous for pompous jacka—

"An Orac is an extremely rare gift," he continued on, content to brag about himself. "It only presents itself in a handful of individuals each generation and was once a part of the Dare line. My gift allows me to use ordinary objects in the present to connect with the past and, occasionally, the future. For this reason, I have served as one of the chief advisors for both living Dares for the last 548 moons. And yet," he stood so he could glare down at me, "I am wasting my time here teaching a rudimentary history lesson."

Bitter much? 

I looked up, meeting his fury with my best attempt at passivity. Rosamund had told me to hold my tongue, and she'd recommended I not take anything to heart. I understood why. But I already kinda wanted to hit him with a softball bat.

"What do you know about Roanoke's history? Or is it true that you grew up so sheltered by meres that you know nothing of our ways?"

I couldn't show my hand, but I also couldn't just sit there, mute, while he degraded me. If I was this all-important Dare, shouldn't he treat me a little nicer? I was still trying to form a witty comeback that wouldn't get me in serious trouble when he moved on.

"Your education is more suited for a six-year-old, so I expect you to learn quickly and pay attention," he said, shooting me an icy glare.

Clearly someone was unhappy with their work assignment. Despite his terrible nature, that made me a little bit happier. We would both be miserable together.

"We will begin with Roanoke's introduction to the Fold." He said, finally getting to the interesting things that I wanted to hear. "The Fold Phenomenon occurs approximately every 425 years and causes a portion of the Upper Realm to tear into the Lower Realm below. Roanoke precedes the most recent Fold Phenomena and occurred in the year 1589. The most accurate report of the incident comes from Eleanor Dare, our first interim-leader and the Dare Mother." He paused, taking note of me with narrow eyes. "You look as though you have a question. Or perhaps your set expression is a gaping fish..."

I pressed my lips tighter together self-consciously. "I was just wondering what the Fold Phenomenon is exactly. In my—I mean, the mere world—magic doesn't exist."

"Magic?" He scoffed. "The Fold Phenomenon has nothing to do with magic, but"—he interjected before I could construct a follow-up question—"I am not here to explain religion or any other field of study to you. Your mere education has no doubt left a gaping hole in your knowledge that cannot be filled with a simple aside. I have to teach you the history of Roanoke, and the sooner you understand that, the sooner I can go back to doing a job worthy of my time."

I bit my tongue, focusing on my pain to avoid saying anything that I would regret. If I kept quiet, this would all be over soon. At least we had similar motivations on that front.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, the Dare Mother demonstrated many of the hallmark characteristics of a great leader. If those traits had continued on to the present generations, our current political situation would be greatly improved. Unfortunately," he smiled contemptuously, "there has been some serious dilutions."

I tried to stay silently, but... I grew up in Georgia, and I knew a bigot when I heard one. Elise had taught me the only way to deal with one was a good scathing retort. I could feel one teetering on the edge of my lips.

He could clearly see me struggling to rein in my anger because a grin bloomed across his thin grey lips. “What’s wrong, young Dare? Is the truth painful?”

My insult tumbled from my lips. "You’re a subpar human being."

His eyes flashed as he realized what I had said. "Remember who I am, mikros." He snarled. He leaned forward (much closer than I would have ever wanted him to) and dropped his voice to a low, threatening whisper. "If you insist on speaking like that to me, I will use everything in my power to make sure that any future plans are met with failure. Do I make myself clear?"

If villains were characters you put on your dream board, he'd be a stock photo.

At the risk of showing weakness, I leaned back to earn more space. My stomach roiled with anger. I hate this man, I decided. I hated him vehemently, but I mumbled "yes" despite the strong instinct to hurt him.

With that matter dealt with, he settled back into his chair. "Now, where was I before I was so rudely interrupted..?" he wondered aloud, smiling to himself.

Sadistic jackaninny.

"Ah, yes. The Dare Mother's report. I believe I have a copy of the account in my collection." He snapped his fingers at Rosamund. "Virago, grab me that book right there with the green binding."

Rosamund bore a glare but stood nonetheless to retrieve the book.

Unfortunately, nothing could ever been done acceptably for this man. "Golden skies, the darker green!" He cried. "Are you daft? Yes, that's the one. Hand it here. Quickly, quickly! I will be a dry pile of bones at the rate you walk."

I watched the exchange with my tongue trapped between my teeth and saw Rosamund using a similar tactic. She dropped the book down on the desk and returned to her chair.

He scoffed to himself and flipped through the book. "Yes, this just about covers everything. I expect you to read her account as well as the attached information in this book by tomorrow. I will give you a short assessment to prove that you are not totally inadequate, and then we will move on. In the meantime," he continued, glancing up at the clock on the wall, "I don't see any reason for this lesson to continue wasting my day. You are dismissed."

I grabbed the book and bolted out the door before he could say anything else.

I’m blown away with all the recent subscribers I’ve received after becoming a staff pick. Thank you so much to everyone who had given this silly little story a chance. I hope you continue to enjoy the story as it evolves! ❤️

—MM