Part 2

“It’s time to settle in, class,” a weary woman walked to the front of the classroom and situated herself behind the podium. Her hands gripped the hidden compartment, knuckles white.

The children had been mumbling to one another--surely a sign that something was amiss. Usually, they were screaming at each other as if they were all savages. Now though, they sat at full attention, eyes on their teacher, their furry ears alert.

Waiting.

The woman cleared her throat, and slowly pushed her glasses to better fit on her face. Her first year teaching and she’d thought the worst she would have to deal with was the nervousness of having so many eyes upon her. 

What simple times those were.

Sighing, the woman’s furry black ears stood at attention, a change from the downcast tilt she’d walked in with.

“Today marks the funeral of the Hero,” she said, “as I am sure you are all aware.”

Some of the kids looked away, a sure sign of their discomfort. Others, the ones the teacher was most worried about, hardly blinked at all. They stared straight ahead as if they couldn’t even hear her.

“Tristian was an exceptional hero,” she continued, willing the time to move faster. “He was a friendly boy, always helping others, always greeting people…and his talents as a Hero far surpassed any written records of even his earliest predecessors.

“We’ve been struck by a resounding loss,” she paused, trying to meet the eyes of each of her pupils. Even if the attention made sweat gather at her temples and her voice ring with a slight shake, the woman knew it was time for her to step up as an adult and show them all that she could be relied upon.

“Unfortunately, even the strongest of witches can be taken down by something else--stronger or weaker than them. It doesn’t matter. Anything is possible.

“I do not say this to make light of our situation. But you must understand: this grief can only be cured by two things: Honesty. And time.”

The clock’s hand struck a new minute, the silence loud enough for the woman to perceive the subtle disturbance.

“Later, we will gather with the rest of the school for a memorial service. Before that, though, I have one final reminder.

“The new hero will need all of our support. As one of your peers, you understand that Amélie never dreamed that she would need to step up. Her friends, too, will have to undergo special training to prepare a new Team of Legend.

“This is essential for La Ville to exist as a single entity within the witch’s worldwide community. They will be the ones to protect you from now on, no matter the circumstances of how they ended up there. We will be patient and understanding, even if we don’t get as often of a chance to see the three of them in our class.”

The woman sighed. “That’s all for now. I will allow you to talk amongst yourselves while we wait for the announcement to gather. If anyone needs to leave for the Guidance Room, please just go. It is my opinion that there is no wrong reaction to grief; however, you must let yourselves feel it. Though it hurts, though it’s uncomfortable--it is the only way.”

The woman walked down the aisles, now alight with chatter and moving desks. She didn’t like noisy classrooms, but she clamped down on that instinct.

Just for today, let them do as they like.

Snippets entered her ears as she made her way down each aisle, checking for any extra assistance she may need to give. 

“I heard Sylvia collapsed when she found out.”

“They got married right when they were eighteen.”

“So sad. They’d been together since they were little.”

“They were the perfect couple. They didn’t even bat an eye when their parents officially arranged them as partners.”

“I can’t believe someone could kill the Hero.”

“Ammie can only imbue crystals--how can she possibly protect all of us?”

“Juliette and Lis might already be getting instruction on being the Hero’s team. They aren’t here today.”

“I see Juliette as a hero, but not that airhead.”

“What on earth could have happened? What if it tries to kill us next?”

“It’s wrong. So wrong. I feel so bad for Ammie’s family.”

“I wonder what happened to the Hero’s team.”

“I know, right?”

“The Hero was the only casualty.”

“Where was his team?”

“Where was Five? I thought they were best friends?”

The teacher finally made it to her desk. She sat in the creaking swivel seat and allowed herself a moment to close her eyes. 

She shouldn’t have worried. Death wasn’t close to the kittens from La Ville. They were not yet at the point where sadness could penetrate the logic.

The illusion barriers that kept humans from seeing what was truly inside the gated community, its small size, and its strong heroes had always kept it safe from any threat--witch or human.

Who would have thought the strongest recorded hero would die so young? 

The teacher couldn’t help but worry about the Hero’s team, who was just a single friend. Five. And the Hero’s sister, now burdened by the mark of destiny. Juliette and Lis would be dragged in as well now.

What kind of community depended on their teenagers to rise up and keep everyone safe from the world’s perils? 

What would happen to La Ville now?

And--the teacher looked out the window to the stone cottages swirled randomly across swaths of bright green grass--what kind of evil was strong enough to have killed the Hero in the first place?

Author's Note

This is another kind-of introduction. The true story starts next chapter, but this has a lot of key details.