《Dogears》Trollhunters/Merlin

《 Chapter Six 》

"Help often comes from the most unexpected of allies."

"And Albion was where?" Mr. Strickler observes the class with disappointment, glancing at the back of the class to where his newest student sits. "Tyler, do you have an answer for me?"

The boy lowers his hand and nods. "Yes, sir. Albion is the earliest known name for Great Britain. It's sometimes used in a poetic sense to refer to the island, but has fallen out of common use in more recent years. It is the place of origin to the legend of Camelot and the Knights of the Round Table."

"Very good," he congratulates, smiling kindly at the frazzled boy. "Can any of you tell me why Tyler, out of all of you, answered my question correctly? Despite his burdened workload?"

A few of the girls giggle next to him, and the boy ducks his head with a flustered expression. This is the seventh question in a row that he's answered, even though he's supposed to be catching up on his mathematics. He's starting to think that nobody actually pays any attention in this class.

"'Cause he's a nerd," someone says, a little louder than necessary.

Somewhat meekly, Tyler raises his hand again, staring intensely at the pencil on his desk. "It's because I'm the only one listening, sir."

Strickler blinks at him before returning his attention to the class. He folds his hands behind him and resumes patrolling the classroom as he had been.

"Again, you are correct," he concludes, placing himself at the front of the class. "Which is why you will all place your phones in the bucket at the beginning of next class."

The class of grade tens groans collectively, only interrupted by the ringing of the end of day bell.

"Read chapters six through eight for tomorrow!" Strickler calls over the chatter of students, turning to sit at his desk.

It's a surprise to find that one student remains seated at their desk, papers scattered in front of them. Especially when they don't even acknowledge the empty room.

"Tyler," the boy's head twitches in regard, "are you not going home?"

He shakes his head, scribbling almost frantically on his papers. "It's easier to stay 'ere for a bit."

Strickler approaches him, noting how unbothered he is by the alarming pile of unfinished work. It's rather supernatural, considering that he's gone through about a school year's worth of work in two months and he's completely sane. It doesn't even seem like he's lost sleep, or sacrificed anything for getting work done.

"When was the last time you did something for yourself?" the teacher questions, tilting his head a bit as his student stiffens the closer he gets.

"Yesterday," Tyler hums, attention solely focused on the formula beneath his pencil lead. "I bought meself an ice cream and watched the sun set from the roof."

He smiles at him and pulls his chair out from behind his own desk, stopping it at the boy's desk. He sits down in it and watches the student struggle on his chemistry work.

"Try this," Strickler suggests, gently taking the pencil from his hand and showing him a simpler way of finding the solution. "It doesn't always work, but it makes it significantly easier."

Tyler blinks as he absorbs the new method, breaking out into a wide grin once it clicks.

"Think you can do it?" he challenges the boy, earning himself a mischievous smirk and the loss of the pencil.

"How much do ye wanna bet on that?" his eyes gleam with what might be experience.

Strickler chuckles with amusement, watching the boy scratch down answer after answer. He's a fast learner. The kind of fast that shouldn't be possible without some sort of computer, but here he is, keeping everything on ink and paper instead of on his school laptop.

Actually, the longer he observes the boy, the more suspicious he gets. A scowl starts to take its place on his features, the crease between his brows deepening with each passing second. He can't pin the skill to a specific people or person, but nothing recent comes to mind.

Tyler's grin subsides as he looks up, falling into an unsure frown at the sight of his teacher's scowl. Something within him is unsettled, and it's not due to the man's change in attitude. Something doesn't quite fit between this man's identity and his own. Almost like his soul is trying to get as far from him as possible without abandoning the boy.

"Sir?" he asks, a nervous tone withheld in his voice.

His teacher blinks, snapping out of whatever daze he was in and offers a small smile. All seems well and better on the outside, but on the inside? Tyler's not so sure.

"I'm alright," Strickler gives a small wave of his hand, an action of reassurance he supposes. "Just pondering the day's events."

He makes a small motion with his head, a hesitant gesture of understanding. "Alright, then."

The boy's instinct might not trust the man, but he can't decide whether or not to follow in its lead. He likes Strickler, he's one of the few people he can get along with in a conversation. So, in the end, it doesn't really matter what he thinks, because his mind has already made the decision for him.