"Class dismissed."
"Woohoo! Finally!"
"Wait."
Hedley cut off their cheers and added calmly,
"Happy Soul-Calling Night."
"You too!" they chorused.
After returning their respected teacher's greeting, the students streamed outside.
Hedley gathered the pages spread across his desk.
They were packed with lesson plans, though he had barely used most of them.
Dusk lit the pages. Hedley looked out the window.
The sun hung low at the city's edge, its warm light slipping between buildings and illuminating the flags fluttering across the city.
A feeling he had not known in years stirred in Hedley's chest.
He had been back in this hometown, both familiar and strange, for some time. It still did not feel quite real.
Owning a little shop like an ordinary person. Doing his work. Watching the sunset.
No artillery fire raining from the sky. No knife driven into his back.
He had imagined a life like this as a child, so many times that he could no longer remember how often he had wished it could come true—
A hundred times? More?
A knock interrupted his thoughts in the empty room. Hedley opened the door to find a young Sarkaz.
"What is it?"
Hedley knew him. He had been among the first students assigned to the school, but his fierce objections had put an end to that.
The young man avoided his eyes. Hedley's brow furrowed.
"If there's nothing you need..."
"Mr. Hedley!"
The young Sarkaz bent sharply at the waist.
"I... I have something I'd like to ask you!"
Hedley's brow eased. Perhaps he had finally recognized the value of learning.
"If you have a question, come to class tomorrow. I can find you a seat—"
"No, no, it's not about class."
The young Sarkaz hurried to explain.
"I want to write a letter, and I