
Allow me to present a situation to you. A make believe exercise if you will.
Consider you are a professor in a prestigious university and have been teaching your students for a bit over one month now. Your relationship with the students is not bad.
But remember, you are a professor. Ah well, from where I come from, professors are either very close to students or not close at all. Let's switch it up to a teacher. Consider you are a teacher, for a small class.
That fits better.
You see a student who, again, you are just a teacher for, crying. Well, it is definitely something to see a student crying. being the kind-hearted and noble teacher you are, you approach the student and ask them what has made them sad.
How would it play out?
Option A: The student will snivel, hug you, and start spilling all the secrets.
Option B: The student will be weirded out, ask who the hell you are? And then walk away?
That's right. The correct answer is option C.
"What's wrong?" I asked Zacka.
"Oh, nothing. Have a good night professor."
With that Zacka started walking away. Hah, as I expected, Option C played out where my student acted as if he knew me but still did not divulge anything.
Did I ever mention I hate teenagers? While that used to be the case, the more you got used to dealing with teenagers, the more you ended up liking them. They were fairly simple creatures, after all.
As soon as I noticed Zacka about to walk away, I put a hand on my chest and plopped to the ground.
"Ah! No! This... someone put alcohol in my glass. This is alcohol poisoning! Help!"
Zacka looked at me nervously. The burly yet short dwarf was surprised at the sight. He narrowed his eyes.
I thought it was natural worry for his teacher, but—
"That's not how alcohol poisoning looks like, professor. Don't worry, you can still have 3 more kegs of moonshine no problem."
"Three more kegs?" I asked, almost bewildered as I pushed my head off the ground.
Zacka nodded with a straight face.
"Why do you know that?"
"I mean, it is in our culture...?" It was always amusing for a teacher to catch their students red-handed with these kind of things.
"Answer honestly, student Zacka. Do you have three kegs of moonshine in your room right now?"
Zacka turned his head away. I quickly got off the ground and narrowed my eyes at him. If my eyes could shoot daggers then they would be piercing his face point blank right now.
"I might... have some..."
"Three kegs?"
"A bit more."
"MORE? How in the world did you even sneak that in?"
Zacka looked away. Not just a single keg but more than three.
"I am an adult, professor," argued Zacka. This fool, in some countries in my old worlds adults could vote but not drink alcohol.
It was a different scale altogether.
"Fine. You know what?" I said. "I'll let it slide."
Zacka clasped his hands and thanked me with a sigh of relief. Taking it away or even word getting out wouldn't have mattered, but what's embarassing is embarassing. Even more so, Zacka was one of the few royalty who did not truly act their position in our classroom.
The war had definitely left all governance a bit more shaky than it initially was, and he too was a result of such an environment. His responsibilities were always a priority and his sensibilities were more with the common people than some others.
Especially Seren. I had no idea how she turned out that way.
"I'll let it slide if you let me have some with you."
"With me?"
"You said you are an adult right? Let's go drink."
"Weren't you just about to collapse from alcohol poisoning?"
I was immune to poison of all kinds. It didn't matter.
With that decided, Zacka and I left to have some more drinks.
As soon as we entered his room my eyes popped wide. It was way more spacious than mine. Heck, it was wide enough to fit six professor rooms! What was this favoritism? I had to have a word with Gladwin.
My eyes darted around the rooms. Papers were abuzz, spread around all over. I noticed pencil shavings and wood dust in the corners.
It seemed this place had been cleaned but those spots were missed. Definitely not something the staff would overlook.
We entered the room and Zacka immediately led me through a gate to his kitchen. He pulled out two mugs that were just a little out of his reach and slammed on the counter.
His grin never left as Zacka next pulled out a keg from a cabinet. I leaned low and counted way more than a dozen of them.
"Hey, you."
"You said you'd let it slide!"
I did say that. My goal, after all, was to find out what was bothering my precious students and not bother them more myself.
Zacka pulled out to Kegs. I leaned against the counter and watched him as he lifted one to the counter and climbed on a small stool. He used a chisel to dislodge the top of the keg.
"We'll go light on it, is that ok, professor?"
"Yup."
Zacka licked his lips.
"I could really use some alcohol. Thanks for letting it slide, and for coming along."
It used to be a little strange in the beginning when I was even younger than these kids and was frequently offered alcohol on the battle-field. It wasn't considered a taboo, and eventually I became used to it too.
An old memory surfaced and a bitter smile left me. I started tapping my feet and rapped my fingers on the kitchen counter.
Zacka, on the other hand, after pouring one mug used the other keg. It must be about a connoisseur's sensibility when it comes to taste. Something about the first pour being the richest. Maybe.
After pouring both the mugs, Zacka pushed them aside, grabbed the entire Keg and started gulping it down.
"Hey hey hey!" I snapped, shocked. "What the hell are you doing? Weren't we going light!?"
"Yeah!" Zacka stopped, ahh'd and then nodded. "I removed so much!"
"So much? People usually start with that!"
"It will taste good. Just have some, professor."
I sighed and lifted the keg too. I wasn't very hot on drinking, but if someone was down it was not a great idea to ruin their mood. As long as I didn't drink it, it was fine.
Zacka and I took a seat. After a few more sips of the keg, the boy got a faint blush on his cheeks. He swayed and moved his head as he went on and on about dwarf inventors.
“And then, there was Telagotor. He was the first person to start inscribing spells on magical stones after working with humans. Both the species that were on their wits end against the famine survived because of this friendship that was considered a taboo.”
It was fun to talk to my students about things that had their passion.
“I never knew you liked making things so much, Zacka,” I said. “You know we have multiple workshops where clubs join, right? Why didn’t you go to them?”
“That…” Zacka took another swig of the keg. That sounded extremely odd to say. “It’s because I should not be doing that stuff…”
With those words, Zacka tipped over on the table and fell asleep.
“Wait what?” A mutter left me on its own. Did this guy just go to sleep after all that?
“After all that effort…” I didn’t even get to hear anything.
I looked around the room. I would have looked for clues here, but seeing how he had clumsily cleaned the space up meant there won’t be anything.
In the end I would have to look for other methods. But more importantly, this kid was going to be late if he woke up with a hangover like this.
As a dutiful teacher with an (almost) perfect attendance rate, I couldn’t let that happen.
Thanks for the small drink