Professor Ashworth

His classroom has been locked for thirty years. He's still in there, as far as anyone knows. The lessons continue: at odd hours, students passing the corridor hear his voice through the door, lecturing to a room that should be empty, pausing for answers that should never come. He was the academy's brightest once. Then something happened — thirty years ago, something the records don't discuss — and Ashworth locked the door from the inside and never came out. He still teaches. He's just very particular now about who his students are. His private wound: whatever happened thirty years ago — he never left the room where it happened, because leaving would mean it was over. His dangerous want: a student who can finish what was started. An ending, or a beginning — he's no longer sure which.