Once outside, Theodore noticed the village chief deep in conversation with Miss Dalia.
The chief's furrowed brow and Miss Dalia's anxious gestures painted a picture of unease. Mr. June was nowhere to be seen—he must have already set off to search for Marvin.
Miss Lidia, however, seemed unfazed by the morning's tension. She clapped her hands sharply, drawing the students' attention.
"All of you, start running!" she barked, pointing to the hill that loomed opposite the village.
The students groaned but obeyed, taking off in a slow jog. They ran toward the hill, their footsteps echoing against the cold morning air.
Upon reaching a massive rock at the base of the hill, they turned around and raced back to the village. Theodore pushed himself harder with each lap, his legs burning as they repeated the grueling circuit twenty times. Exhaustion weighed down the group by the time Miss Lidia allowed them to stop.
The training didn't end there.
Next, they picked up wooden swords to practice strikes and parries, slamming their blades against straw dummies lined up across the field. For the mages, training involved honing their abilities by aiming at the dummies, firing bursts of elemental energy at marked targets.
Theodore stuck with his sword. He knew he had to sharpen his skills—his small stature was a disadvantage, but he was determined to overcome it. Sweat trickled down his brow as he thrust and dodged, his concentration unwavering.
From the sidelines, Vincent,watched Theodore train.
He smiled, clearly impressed by his cousin determination. "You're doing great, Theo," Vincent called out with a thumbs-up.
The compliment broke Theodore's focus. His wooden blade slipped from his grip, clattering to the ground. Gritting his teeth, he picked it up and turned to Vincent, his eyes narrowing.
"Don't do that," he snapped. "Stop acting so friendly. It's irritating."
Vincent's smile faltered, replaced by a look of hurt. "I was just trying to—"
"Don't," Theodore cut him off, his tone cold. Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, leaving Vincent standing there, crestfallen.
Theodore headed toward the nearest stream to quench his thirst.
The cool shade of the trees was a welcome break from the heat of training. As he approached the water, he froze. There, crouched by the stream, was that strange man. His scarred face caught the light as he methodically sharpened a long, jagged sword. The metallic sound of the blade against the whetstone filled the air.
Theodore hesitated for a moment but moved forward, kneeling by the water's edge. As he cupped his hands to drink, the man's gruff voice cut through the stillness.
"Don't drink that," the man growled, not even looking up.
Theodore paused, staring at the man in surprise. "Why? Is it poisoned?" he asked, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Don't worry. I'm immune to most poisons."
The man's lips twitched into a wry smile. "It's not poison, kid. But there's something in the water."
Theodore frowned, glancing at the clear stream. "What do you mean?"
The man's demeanor shifted, his smile fading as his eyes darkened. His behavior became strange—his gaze lingered on Theodore a little too long, and his movements seemed unnaturally tense. Theodore felt the hairs on his neck rise.
"What's your name?" he asked cautiously.
The man's eyes flicked toward him, sharp and calculating. "Call me Black."
Theodore tilted his head, confused. "Black? Like… the color?"
Black's glare was sudden and sharp. "You got a problem with that, boy?" he growled.
Theodore quickly shook his head. "No, not at all."
Black returned to sharpening his blade, the rasping sound echoing in the quiet woods.
"You're braver than most kids," he muttered.
"Didn't Mr. Smith tell you about me? People think I'm cursed. Most kids run when they see me."
Theodore smirked faintly.
"Cursed, huh? That's not so scary. I've seen worse." His voice dropped, his eyes narrowing. "I am worse."
Black chuckled, a low, rumbling sound.
"Kids your age sure have big imaginations," he said, standing and slinging his sword over his shoulder. "But take my advice, boy. Leave this village while you still can. It's not safe."
As Black turned to leave, Theodore called out, "Wait! Have you seen a boy named Marvin? He's my classmate, and he's missing."
The question made Black stop in his tracks.
Slowly, he turned back, gripping his arm tightly. His eyes locked onto Theodore, his expression unreadable.
"Don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong, boy," he warned, his voice low and menacing. "If your friend's gone missing, maybe the ghost woman got him. Forget about him. It's better that way."
Theodore's brow furrowed. "Ghost woman?" he echoed, but Black didn't elaborate. He turned and walked away, disappearing into the trees.
Theodore watched him go, his mind buzzing with questions. Before he could dwell on it further, he felt a strange presence nearby.
His sharp eyes scanned the area and landed on a small bird perched on a branch. The bird's eyes gleamed unnaturally, too intelligent for an ordinary animal.
Theodore's lips curved into a sly smile. "So, you're watching me now, Principal Roman," he murmured under his breath.
Feigning ignorance, he turned and made his way back to the training ground, pretending he hadn't noticed the principal's shapeshifted form. His mind, however, was far from calm. Between Black's cryptic warnings, the ghost woman, and Marvin's disappearance, the pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together. And Theodore intended to solve it.
Night had fallen, and the air was thick with unease when Mr. June returned to the dormitory—without Marvin.
His slumped shoulders and defeated expression said everything. The once-confident, sharp-eyed teacher now looked like a husk of his former self, his face pale and gaunt, his eyes sunken.
The students watched him silently as he dragged himself upstairs. Among them, Theodore noticed something strange—the bird was gone. Principal Roman, who had been watching them in his avian guise, was nowhere to be seen. This confirmed Theodore's suspicions the principal was aware of everything and likely observing from the shadows.