It sometimes seemed a strange thing to him that he could feel so alone with so many people around, but the more he thought about it, the more he supposed that to be the exact problem. He wondered if anyone else felt as lost in the crowd as he did. And now, being undead and seeing Garovel drift among the students like the most unapproachably frightening teacher in the world, Hector also began to wonder if a school where everyone knew one another would have changed his life. Or his death.
Garovel hung around throughout his first few classes, making the occasional remark about how no one in the room was about to die or pointing out an inaccuracy in the teacher’s lecture. Honestly, Hector was glad for the company, strange as it was, but he wasn’t entirely sure why the reaper was staying. Surely, Garovel had better things to do than observe a second-year geography lesson about the Eloan continent’s tropical regions. Hector refrained from asking about it, however, figuring it might prompt Garovel to leave.
But as the teacher’s lecture drew out and transformed into one of current events, of civil unrest and brutalities in the modern world, a more serious question began to brew in Hector’s mind; and when it was time to break for lunch, he decided to petition Garovel for an answer.
‘There’s something else I want to know,’ Hector thought, not wanting to look like the crazy kid in the corner of the refectory who sat talking to himself.
‘Uh... why aren’t you somewhere more important?’
Garovel cocked a bony eyebrow. ‘Excuse me?’