It is better, for most, to be seen only as the former. Most Education majors are widely ignored, and a fair percentage never fully see the extent of EU, keeping their heads down and their eyes closed. Those are the ones who pass through unremarked upon, and when they leave EU at graduation, only the haziest of memories remain, all of total mundanity. 

In every major, though, there are ones who toe the line. It’s easy enough to spot, in the Education department, small as it tends to be. The ones who are there not because of the desire to help, or the love of children, but for the curiosity, the insatiable desire to not just know but to spread the knowledge as far as it will go. These students tend to be bold, and clever, and kind, but they are only sometimes lucky, and it’s rare that the first three alone are enough. 

When an Education major is taken, they are unlikely to return in any recognizable shape– they’re rarely taken because of fancy or pleasure, after all. No, they are stolen only when they’ve crossed a line, offended something Big, given too much to too many. It’s sad, for all that it is inevitable; it’s only their nature to share what they have learned, and they frequently pay for it. 

The rare ones who are stolen away, but find their way back, or who manage to never be taken at all, they hold a special kind of power. Some are simply members of other groups that provide protection–claimed by the crows, or friends with a Chemistry major, or a part-time librarian assistant. Others have learned enough to make their own protection, beyond what iron and salt will grant. There are those who even broker the information, careful with what they tell to whom and always, always ensuring they gain as much as they share. But for some of them, a rare few… well, there is a strength, in giving, and in expecting nothing in return. It is not an easy thing, to weaponize generosity, but then, it is not an easy thing to teach, either, and the best ones tend to tip the odds anyhow. 

The professor of the Education Department works alone. They are not the only professor to go unnamed, addressed by Sir or Ma’am or Professor or whatever formality comes to mind, but they are perhaps the only one who does not do it out of necessity. It’s not easy to tell when someone has had their name stolen, but it can be easy to tell when someone has not, and any student with the barest of the Sight could tell you that the Education Professor belongs entirely to themself. They are not respected by the Fair Folk– there is too much disdain and pride in the Gentry for that– but they are feared, and at a certain point, there comes to be little difference. They are not the type of professor to walk into the forest and return with a missing student clutching their arm like a lifeline; nor are they one to lay claim on their favorites as a shield. That is not to say they do not care– the field of Education is a poor fit for apathy– but they are a guide, not a lifeline, and those who do not learn from the lessons they so generously give would not do well to teach, anyways.  

It is a difficult thing, to find kindness where the strange and unfamiliar haunt every corridor and lives can be bartered like coins, but the Education Department is perhaps one of the likelier places to find it. They won’t save you, exactly, or bless you, or claim you, but they will share what they know, and they won’t ask a price of you.