Chosen

hieroglyphs

The following day, you had met Jim and Toby by the canals as usual and the three of you were now strolling your bikes over to school. "So, say what we saw wasn't an illusion and they really did move it," Toby begun. "How could we possibly find it?" A car honked in the distance. The sky was blue with just a couple of white clouds shallowly draped over it. It was a quite beautiful day. "Well, I don't think we're gonna be lucky enough to stumble on it again, Tobes," Jim chuckled softly as you crossed the street. "You never know. The chick we're friends with grew up around these kinds of things. Maybe she'll know," Toby openly asked. "I was not raised by Gumm-Gumms, Tobias," you replied, watching the kids your age enter the schoolbuilding. "And it's not like all beings unlike yourself have a radar for magical things." "Worth a shot," Toby chuckled.

"But one thing's for sure. That curator did not move it by herself," Jim shot in, getting back on topic. "Maybe she had help! Other changelings, perhaps?" Toby suggested. "That's not a bad thought," you said, looking at Toby. "But whom?" he asked. "Have you noticed any shady people?" "Again, not a radar," you laughed, "but I have my suspicions." "Who?" Jim asked, eager to know. "Strickler," you whispered. "Possibly Señor Uhl." The boys cracked a laugh.

The bell rung, summoning the students to their classes. "Shit! We're gonna be late!" you exclaimed discarding your yellow bike and helmet in the grass next to a small staircase. "I've got algebra," Jim said, him and Toby leaving their bikes next to yours. "English," Toby said, struggeling to take his orange-striped helmet off. "I've got history with Strickler," you said, already on your way inside. "I'll meet you in-between classes!" you finished as you hurried in through the doors. "I'll investigate on the Strickler-thing!" you finished and before the boys could, reply you had rounded a corner and was gone.

You calmed your stride as you reached the door to Strickler's class. You opened it gently and stepped inside, seeing the class was just calming down, Strickler getting up form his chair, fiddling with his regular black pen. "Y/n, I was hoping you'd make it," Strickler smiled softly. There were three seats left in the classroom, you chose the one in the front-row. A perfect view at the changeling in question. Jim had told you that he didn't think Strickler couldn't be a changeling, but your gut told you otherwise. And a troll always follows her gut. Strickler glanced at you before shifting his focus to the class. You felt the horngozel under your shirt get heavier.

"Class, today we'll be learning about old architecture," Strickler announced. The class let out a slight groan in unison. "Come on now, don't get too excited," Strickler chuckled. "I even made a powepoint," he said as he pressed a button and the picture of the Arkadiko Bridge, a bridge built purely out of strategically placed boulders, creating a passing structure with a gateway in the middle. "Can anyone tell me what this bridge is called?" Strickler asked, uncapping his pen as he looked over the class. "Anyone?" You knew the answer. You'd read about this bridge. It had been constructed through the Greek Bronze Age around 1300-1200 BC, but your mission was to find any hints, any hints at all that the man in front of you - your teacher - might be a changeling.

He moved on to the next slide. A bridge in Rome, buildt over a river passing through a city. The Pons Fabricius. Constructed by Lucius Fabricius in 62 BC, presumably buildt as a replacement for a wooden bridge that burned down. Noone raised their hands. "Hm, shame," Strickler mumbled. "I hope some of you might know this next one," he smirked. Was this whole class going to be about old bridg- Your jaw dropped.

The next slide was a picture of Killahead Bridge. In something that looked like a darkly lit room. The surroundings were hard to make out, given the poor lighting. Did he know what it was or had he just found the picture on his browzer or something? You noticed Strickler's smug eyes on you and you quickly picked up your jaw, pretending like nothing. Play it cool Y/n. "That's just a fairytale bridge. That can't be real, look at the weird markings on it," a voice broke through the silence. "It's obviously egyptian," Steve lisped loudly, his popular-jock status earning him a couple of chuckled. "That can't be egyptian! I've never seen hieroglyphs like that before!" Eli's voice countered. "You're such a geek, Pepperjack," Steve replied. "It has to be some sort of mythical-" Eli went on. "I'll make your face into a herogiff," Steve snapped, heavily mispronouncing a word that was obviously not a part of his short vocabulary.

"Boys, boys," Strickler shot in, demanding silence in his classroom. "Elijah is right. This is nothing but a fairytale bridge," Strickler said calmly, Eli praising himself silently. "Isn't that right, Y/n?" he said, peering down at you. Was he toying with you? Did he know? "Of course, sir," you replied, acting unbothered. "What would you name this kind of bridge?" Strickler asked, locking his eyes with yours. "I don't know, sir," you replied, holding his stare. The tension was held and you could swear you sat a glimt of red and yellow shine through in his eyes. "This fairytale bridge has some incredible lore," he begun, breaking eye-contact and returning attention to his silent class. "Some say there is a creature trapped within it," he grinned. His eyes returned to you. "A troll," he said.

With the blink of an eye, your hand shot up in the air. "Yes, Y/n?" he smugly pointed to you. "I need to use the restroom," you said. "Now?" Strickler asked tauntingly. "We're in the middle of class." "Mr Strickler. I am currently enganged in what some may call a menstrual cycle, so if you would like to avoid the red sea appearing on one of your chairs, I suggest you let me use the restroom," you snapped back, the tension even more buildt up. Some girls in the back gasped as some boys frowned in confusion and disgust. "You may leave," Stickler fake-sighed. 

You quickly snatched your bag from beside your chair and hurried out the classroom, thought flooding your mind. He was definitly a changeling. He was definitly working with Nomura. But why had he exposed himself like that? So easily? Then, it struck you. You dropped your bag straight to the ground. He had told you because he knew. He knew no one would belive you.