Chapter 5: Into Darkness
983words
From my position at the lectern, I droned through an exceptionally dry theoretical lecture—"On Conductivity Differences of Magical Elements in Various Media." Afternoon sunlight streamed through tall windows, creating drowsy pools of warmth throughout the room. The noble students sat with perfect posture but vacant expressions, fighting to keep their eyes open. Only Frederick, perched attentively in the center of the front row, maintained unwavering focus, those sky-blue eyes never leaving my face.
But I alone recognized the dangerous undercurrents beneath his attentive facade.
My voice droned through ancient, convoluted theories, echoing like a sleep spell in the hushed classroom. Whether from last night's anxiety-induced insomnia or this body's natural impatience with elementary instruction, an irresistible wave of fatigue washed over me. My eyelids grew impossibly heavy, drawn together like magnets. Midway through explaining "inert crystal magical conductivity," my consciousness briefly flickered out.
I nodded off.
Perhaps for just a second, perhaps several. When I jerked back to consciousness and my eyes snapped open, Frederick's angelic face filled my vision—suddenly much too close. He'd somehow climbed onto the podium without making a sound. His smile wasn't the simple glee of a successful prankster but something more calculated—the satisfied smirk of a strategist whose trap was about to spring.
Warning bells clanged in my mind as dread clutched my heart. I flinched backward instinctively, my body reacting before my brain could process the danger.
But I was already too late.
【System Notification: NPC 'Frederick' used item 'Temporary Blinding Powder' on you.】
He'd timed it perfectly—the moment my eyes opened, his tiny hand shot up with lightning speed. With surgical precision, he blew a cloud of glittering white powder—like pulverized starlight—directly into my face.
The powder carried a faint bluebell scent as it enveloped me. I squeezed my eyes shut reflexively, but the fine particles had already settled on my eyelids and lashes. Initially, I felt only a slight coolness—no pain. But when I tried reopening my eyes, the world had transformed.
Colors drained from my vision like water down a drain. The vibrant classroom faded to grayscale. Student faces and the towering ceiling warped and blurred like reflections in troubled water. Then even the gray vanished, swallowed by absolute darkness.
Light vanished completely, leaving me in a void so absolute I couldn't see my hand before my face.
This sudden sensory deprivation unleashed primal terror from the depths of my being. This wasn't like a game screen going dark—this was the raw, visceral panic of losing all control, all connection to the world around me.
Every frustration, fear, and fury I'd bottled up since my transmigration found its perfect release valve—and exploded.
"AAAAHHHHH!"
A piercing shriek tore from my throat as I collapsed to the floor. This wasn't pretense—at least not at first. The sudden, complete darkness triggered genuine terror, and tears burst forth uncontrollably. I sat sprawled on the ground, dignity forgotten, wailing like a frightened toddler.
"My eyes! I can't see! I'm blind!" I sobbed, flailing my hands before my face, desperately seeking even a glimmer of light but finding only void.
Frederick clearly hadn't expected such an intense, genuine, devastating reaction. His smug smile vanished instantly, replaced by something I couldn't see but could hear in his voice—real panic.
"Hey! Don't—don't cry!" His voice cracked with alarm as he jumped down from the podium. I could hear him pacing frantically around me. "The blindness powder is just basic prank magic! Super weak stuff! I found it in a joke spellbook! It'll wear off in a couple days, I swear! Teacher, please stop crying!"
His words only fueled my performance. I cranked up the volume, my wails bouncing off classroom walls with a note of righteous accusation: "Waaah! I just started as an instructor! My life was finally beginning, and now I'm BLIND! What will become of me? I'll never see blue skies or white clouds again... never see beautiful flowers..."
I sobbed until my throat burned. What had started as genuine distress rapidly evolved into calculated theater once I recognized my tactical advantage. The tears were real enough, but the dramatic performance was entirely strategic. With troublemakers like Frederick, reasoning never works—you must fight fire with fire, using guilt as your ultimate weapon!
My theatrical sobs reverberated through the classroom. Through my genuine tears, I sensed the stunned silence of the noble students—all witnessing their perpetually poised, elegant Instructor Winifred completely unraveled.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I was wrong!" Frederick's voice cracked with desperation. I could hear him circling me anxiously, clearly wanting to help but afraid to touch me. "I swear I was wrong! I'll never do it again! Please stop crying! If you keep this up, Father will have my head!"
Sensing victory, I strategically dialed back my sobs to occasional shuddering breaths and pitiful whimpers. My shoulders trembled with perfectly calibrated vulnerability—the quintessential portrait of a thoroughly victimized innocent.
Honestly, using my adult mind to throw a toddler-grade tantrum felt ridiculous, but the results spoke for themselves.
Frederick, encouraged by my quieter sobs, crouched beside me. His voice took on a solemn, almost tearful quality as he made his pledge.
"Teacher! I swear on my honor! Until your sight returns, I'll be your personal guardian! I won't leave your side for a moment! I'll be your eyes and keep you safe from harm! Just please, stop crying?"
Mission accomplished.
I sniffled dramatically while mentally flashing a victory sign. With trembling fingers reaching blindly into the darkness, I whispered in a congested, vulnerable voice: "Frederick? Is that you? I'm... I'm terrified..."
His small, warm hand instantly clasped mine with surprising firmness.
"It's me, Teacher," he answered eagerly. "I'm right here. Don't be afraid."
I gripped his hand tightly, as if it were my only lifeline in the darkness, officially beginning my brief but "enlightening" life as a blind person.
