The Heir

Professor Evans

"Alright class." I said as I walked in the room, setting my dark brown, leather bag on the wood table beside my podium. The chatter quickly subsided and silence encompassed the room. I could feel all eyes on me, and was definitely nervous about it. Today was my first day teaching this class. I had been hired as the professor's assistant four years ago. He passed away suddenly three weeks ago. I fought hard to be the one to take over the class. Despite only being twenty-five, I won the position. It helped that everyone was familiar with me, I knew how the class ran and was ready to just step in.

"It's been a long break. Welcome back." I pursed my lips as I looked out over the sea of young adults before me. They all sat up, attentively waiting for what I would say next. This was my first class out of six today. It was my trial run, but hopefully everything would go well and I'd have to make little to no tweaks for the remaining classes.

I finished my college education just two years ago. Receiving my doctorate and going straight to a college assistant. It sometimes takes people years to get to where I am right now, but I worked my ass off to get here, and I wasn't about to let the opportunity slip through my hands. I majored in education with an emphasis in history. I was now the teacher of a college history class.

"I know you all have heard about Professor Evans. I have placed his photo by the door, with his most favorite quote. I know he was beloved by many of you, including myself. We will continue to remember and honor this great man. I'd like to take a few moments of silence to remember him."

All noises in the class ceased, including the kid who always spun his pen around on his hand. Flipping it all over the table in front of him. Professor Evans was a wonderful man. We hit it off instantly. He was like my grandfather. He took me under his wing and prepared me to take over for him. Although we thought it would be much further in the future. He was a kind soul, and cared very much for his students. I hoped that I would be able to fill his shoes. To do him justice and to continue to enlighten minds as he had. We spent a lot of time off campus together, even though he was forty years my senior.

"Thank you all." I bowed my head, breaking the silence. A hand went up in the back of the class.

"Yes?" I looked up at the blonde haired boy.

"Miss. Kincade?" He practically shouted to be heard properly by me from the bottom of the auditorium style classroom. "Are you taking over permanently for Professor Evans?"

"Ah, the million dollar question." I laughed lightly, trying to ease the heavy mood in the class. "I will be the permanent replacement…" Sighs, applause and a few cheers rang out throughout the class, cutting me off from the small speech I had planned in order to make the announcement. I put my hands up, signaling for silence in the room.

"I will be replacing Evans for the remainder of this year, and hopefully for the rest of my time as a teacher. I can see that you all seem happy with this decision. I know I cannot replace Professor Evans, but I will try very hard to be as inspiring as he was." I finished my planned speech.

"Now then, let's get down to work, shall we?" I clicked on the projector under the podium. A bright white light lit up the gigantic white board behind me.

"Um, Liz, can you get the lights, please." I asked and instantly a petite blonde girl in a pretty floral print pink dress bounced out of her seat and over to the light switch under Professor Evans photo. The room went dark, except for the illumination from the projector, and the sun filtering in through the windows at the back of class.

"Can everyone see properly?" I watched and waited as heads nodded and voices projected affirmations. "Alright then. When we left off, we were studying the Medieval Era."

I presented several slides on the board. Going over some important kings and queens and their quests. The Medieval Era was one of my favorites to teach. The elaborate gowns the queens wore were to die for. I absolutely would look crazy if I wore anything like that today. I just seemed to be drawn to it. The thirst for power, the amount of backstabbing and betrayal, it was all very intriguing to me. I walked over to the wall, flipping on the lights and pausing as the class adjusted their eyes to the sudden brightness. I smoothed the front of my skin tight, black pencil skirt before making my way back to my podium. I quickly shed my matching black blazer, revealing my silky, white blouse underneath. I quickly fluffed the giant bow that tied at the top of the blouse before addressing the class again.

"Who can tell me what this is?" I reached for an object on the table. It was hidden under a large, pink and green beach towel. I struggled to support the weight as I presented the sword from under the towel. Its brilliant silver blade reflecting the light.

It was a simple sword, with a gold hilt which came to a round end. A celtic knot pattern etched into the round end, with two deer facing each other in the center. The words "Excalibur" were pressed into the hand guard.

"A sword." One of the students called out.

"Yes." I chucked along with the crowd. "But which sword?"

The students shouted out a few names of kings we had just gone over, before a tall woman in the middle of the room called out the name.

"That's just a legend." Some boy joked from the back of the room. Laughter erupted from the students.

"It is." I said, placing the heavy metal back on the table. "This sword might be a replica, but did you know Arthur was a real person?"

"No way." A girl shouted.

"Can anyone tell me the legend of King Arthur?" I asked, slightly amused. Professor Evans loved his legends and lore. I picked up a likeness for them after seeing how giddy and excited he would get when he told the legend, then presented the students with the truth behind it. They all seemed to love learning about the origins of legends and I wasn't about to nix that from the class.

"He was the King of England." A student called out. "He had the knights of the round table, Guinevere, his wife, Lancelot, who's my favorite, and Merlin and they all battled the evil Morgana. Oh, and the lady of the lake gave Arthur Excalibur, or, he pulled it from the stone."

"Correct." I applauded the boy. "There are many different legends of King Arthur, but those main characters remain the same. So, who was the real King Arthur?" I turned on the projector again before flicking off the lights. I began the presentation with a few paintings of King Arthur, Guinevere and Merlin and Morgana.

"Many historians agree that King Arthur wasn't real. But, there was a real warrior who was the inspiration for King Arthur. He led his troops against the Anglo-Saxons in the late 5th or 6th century. He is most noted for the Battle of Badon, but also the Battle of Camlann where he met his untimely death. What we have are a bunch of partial accounts about a real Arthur, but since historians cannot say for certain that he was real, due to lack of evidence, they leave him out of historical texts. I believe there may not be much about him because he wasn't important until after his battles." I turned off the projector and flicked the lights back on.

"But what about Merlin and Morgana?" A student asked.

"What about them?" I c****d my brow emphasizing my question.

"We're they real?"

"The straight answer is no. They were not real. But, as Professor Evans would say, history has a way of erasing things they don't understand or like. Take Arthur for example, he may not have been a real King, but there is enough evidence to support that there was a real military leader named Arthur. He lived in a time of oral history. Things were written, but they were written as parables and poems. Some stories and historical texts exist, but usually songs and poems were created to honor the elite. Because most of the scripts about the warrior Arthur were poems, historians don't include him in any texts of his Era. His must be fiction because one author didn't include him in his book. I believe that legends are made from real things. Magic is real now, is it not?"

"No way!" A couple students said while most mumbled no or shook their heads.

"Witches are real." I played devil's advocate.

"They aren't." A student laughed.

"Oh?" I said, entertained. "Are there not modern day witches?" Silence fell across the room as the students contemplated my question.

"Yeah, but they don't do real magic." I heard someone say.

"Don't they?" I was amused again. "Have you ever met one? Or seen one? Who has had their palm read, or used tarot cards? Is that magic? And psychics, are they not magically gifted to a degree? You see, magic comes in all shapes and forms. It may not be shooting flames from your hand, or twitching your nose like Samantha." The room giggles at my Bewitched reference. "But I do believe magic is real. I do believe there are people who have magical abilities. When gunpowder was invented, did they not consider it magic? I believe that there may have been inventors who they called witches or magicians, and those people were the inspiration for Morgana and Merlin. All stories have truth in them, to some degree."

I glanced up at the clock on the wall.

"Alright class, that's enough for today. I would suggest you read the remainder of the chapter, and I will see you all again on Wednesday. There will be an exam in a week on the dark ages, so study well. I will continue to grade you on the curve as Professor Evans did." I shoved my notes in my boon, closing it protectively over them, watching as the students packed their belongings in their bags. Ready to head off to their next class. A few students approached the sword, delicately running their fingers over the blade. Once the last of the students had left the room I gathered my things and headed for the door.