BooksbyGoogieman
patreon
What Will Be | Book 2 | Chapter 37
🕑 Added 2025-07-01 19:50:31 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note: Thanks for your continued support. It means the world to me.
Author's Note: Thanks for your continued support. It means the world to me. An update: mum seems to be doing rather well! There are still some tests dependent on longer term data (heart monitors, etc.) that we are waiting for but there doesn't seem to be any immediate risk of a more severe episode, much to everyone's relief. She's not completely out of the woods, but it looks like the aim of the game moving forward is going to be active prevention efforts.
----
Unlike our river crossing, the ferries transporting people to the island were not designed to accommodate a carriage. The academy had apparently assigned overseers to help funnel the spike in traffic, each wearing an almost comically tall hat reminiscent of an old stove top, bright orange and bearing the silhouette of a quill and a crown. After Blanca spoke to them, we were assigned porters that promptly transported our luggage to one of the long vessels before inviting us on board.
When I suggested replicating my earlier feat and making the swim myself, Alicia giggled while Blanca looked at me as if I’d just kicked a kitten.
“Do I need to explain why you should not do that?” She asked, her manner shifting ever so slightly to the predatory guise she adopted while lecturing.
“No. No. I get it. It is a political issue.” I raised my hands in mock surrender. I could have quite easily done things my way anyway in some kind of act of defiance, and the very thought was ever so tempting when I consider how Perseverance might help me deter any efforts to stop me.
Even so, I suspected I’d have plenty of opportunities to rebel in the future. Blanca didn’t deserve feeling embarrassed on my behalf, not for what was effectively my debut. In a place divided by the Crown conscripts and the wealthy, I was somewhat of an outlier. The way she put it, I’d need to work twice as hard to find my social niche.
Ugh. The thought was an exasperating one. I knew, academically, that I had to seize the opportunity to make connections, but people were exhausting. I looked to Fudge, who was in the process of dunking his head beneath the lake’s surface and wagging his tail. No matter how much he jumped or wandered, the boat did not tip or sway, held upright by some combination of its construction and the Skills of the woman propelling us forward, perched near the back of the vessel with a massive pole in hand. It did not seem long enough to reach the bottom of the lake based on what I saw near the shoreline, but that was evidently of no consequence.
It would still be a few days until the official start of the semester; we were among the last batch of students arriving. From the occasional snippet of conversation I overheard, some, like us, were from out of town. Others were locals who simply delayed getting settled for whatever reason.
“Will, remember that you will be receiving an invitation from your family at some point.” It was not the first time Blanca had reminded me of that face since we started travelling. It drew my attention away from Fudge. I saw Alicia gave her mentor an assessing look that she scrubbed off her face when she, in turn, caught me looking.
“I remember, and yes, I will compose my letter in line with the mountain of etiquette books you have had me slave through over the years.” I offered her a good-natured smile. “Besides, I will have Alicia make sure I do not make too big a fool of myself.” Something about the meeting with the Duscall family had Blanca on edge, but I was also confident that she’d explain why, if she could. Everything was politics, the series of social rules enough to keep the society of super humans at bay like elephants who were taught as calves that a rope was enough to restrain them. Until it didn’t, of course, but it was better than the alternatives.
I felt a rush of excitement hit me from Fudge’s side of the Tamer Bond, and it was only a few moments later that I figured out why. Cortez was missing, but a large wave of a ripple was spreading out from where he’d been idly swimming just moments before. I didn’t look up, because I didn’t need to. Fudge was still looking out at the water.
“Everyone hold onto something!” The panicked cry came from our ferrywoman right as the boat started to lurch. Cortez breached the water, the unblemished white of his feathers looking almost angelic as the sunlight caught them and the surrounding spray of water. The colossal splash soared overhead before descending on everyone in the boat, the cascade met with gasps by some, groans by others, and my bark of laughter.
Cortez didn’t give a fuck about politics.
A regular ferry under similar circumstances would have probably capsized– regular by my first world’s standards, mind. My internal compass for the mundane was shifting more by the year, much like how the technology I used to so crassly consider outdated would have blown someone’s mind a few decades in the past. Everything was relative, really.
It was still hard to accept the sheer size of Cortez, even with him right in front of me. The hill-sized duck loomed over us with a critical eye. I heard a few distant cries of alarm as other ferries working the route were forced to slow down and consider the situation. Everyone was enraptured by the high-tiered animal, uncertain how to react in the face of such a powerful being’s scrutiny.
Everyone except Fudge, who continued to wag his tail before barking off another greeting.
“Please tell your dog not to antagonize the-”
“It is fine,” I interrupted. “They know each other. They-” I cut myself off, that time, as I felt something brush up against the Tamer Bond. Something external. Something vast.
Recognition. Welcome. The sensations were familiar in that they reminded me of the simple way Fudge would communicate, only richer, more defined. Cortez’s touch – for it could only be his – was gentle, as if Fudge and I were fragile like porcelain. Which, to him, we probably were.
Fudge returned the sentiment, and I was quick to send through a greeting of my own before the touch carefully drew away. How did he do that?
As the silent conversation took place, the dozens upon dozens of ducks that had gathered around Cortez finally caught up to him, gliding effortlessly through the water as they flocked around the ferry. Now that they were closer, I saw that not all of them were regular, either. Some were large, almost the size of Fudge. Some were brightly coloured, like parrots. One pair each had a shell, like a turtle’s– turtleducks. It was hard to tell among the throng, but I thought I could even see one duck with multiple heads, or a second, and another with a smaller duck head instead of a tongue. It was a weird menagerie of waterfowl, and I could sense the inspiration for my mother’s career in their existence.
Cortez rumbled, then, shaking in the water ever so slightly while he emitted a low quack that I felt in my bones. The surrounding ducks echoed the call. Almost as one, they turned their attention my way; I found the coordination of it all deeply unsettling. Fudge helped mitigate it, somewhat, since he decided to join in, tongue still happily dangling while the force of his tail wagging tried to drag his rump along with it.
Just as suddenly as it started, the chorus ended, and the smallest of the birds scattered and erupted into flight. Cortez simply withdrew his attention and gradually rotated in the water until he started swimming away.
“That. Was. Amazing.” Alicia was the first one to break the resulting tension, punctuating her point with a fresh round of nervous giggles. “Does that happen often, Blanca?”
“No, Alicia,” she sighed. “No it does not.” She turned to study my reaction to everything. Caught up in the relaxed tension of it all, I gave myself over to impulse.
“So. Hypothetically. Would it have been less attention grabbing if I swam?”
Blanca was not amused.
-0-0-0-0-0-
The rest of our journey across the lake was without interruption and we were met on the other side by a fresh crew of porters. Blanca’s insistence that we hurry to vacate the dock brokered no argument; she did not want us present when the people in the ferries behind us caught up.
“Unfortunate enough that the people passing us the other way caught a glimpse. Fudge is hard to miss, even from a distance,” she’d said.
A line of carriages had been waiting for our arrival, reminding me of a taxi rank. The island-campus-combo was large enough to warrant the transport as a means of expedience if little else. Fudge trotted happily alongside ours while it made its way up from the shoreline. I only wished I could have joined him.
Instead, I listened to Alicia rattle off our itinerary. She’d styled her hair into a decorative bun, adorned with flowers and tied with a thin, treated vine as seemed to be the current fashion; I’d seen enough women wearing their hair similarly on our way through Sentrodah that it was hard not to notice.
“Once we sign in, we go to the tailors to get our measurements and pick up our uniforms.” Her excitement at the prospect practically radiated out of her. Alicia tended to enjoy things when they were neat, organized and uniform as a general rule. Even the flowers in her hair were arranged with a certain symmetry to them.
I almost asked if I’d heard her right regarding the time scale, but given what I’d seen Ohchio achieve – and assuming a place called The Crown Academy could afford a high tiered tailor – then I decided it was probably accurate.
Honestly, good odds some dude wearing purple socks dramatically dry humps the air and conjures a uniform out of nothing. I chuckled at the image, meanwhile Alicia continued to vent her joy, not even pausing to ask what I found so amusing. Presumably I was wearing the face I wore when I was in my own head, so she didn’t need to.
“Oh, and Will will probably get his pin,” she added as an afterthought.
“My what now?”
Blanca sighed.
“We went over this.”
“Oh, that pin. The ‘I-technically-work-for-The-Crown-so-you-should-feel-bad-you-are-not-as-lucky-as-me pin, right?” My response was largely deadpan.
“That is one way to put it,” she said, matching my energy and unwilling to rehash an old argument. Alicia gave a small laugh before slumping slightly.
“I am going to miss this,” she said. Blanca would not be staying on the campus with us. Technically, that day married the last day she would be my tutor. We just hadn’t acknowledged it yet, because doing that would make it real.
And now it is…
“Yeah, me too,” I said. “Thanks again, Blanca. For everything.”
“Oh, hush you two.” Blanca was waving at her face. “I still have to be professional today so do not get me tearing up.” She exhaled slowly to try and regain her composure. “You are both very welcome, Will, and I am so very VERY proud of you both.”
It wasn’t a goodbye, not really, but it was a change, and even a good change could be sad. Alicia had already made me promise to join her when she went to visit Blanca, on occasion, and beneath such an earnest request there was no reasonable way for me to decline. What could I say? I’d developed a bit of a soft spot for my cousin– she was a good kid, as far as those things went.
The carriage pulled up to an immaculate, multi storied building that simply screamed university; it reminded me of those pictures of Oxford or other historic campuses I’d sometimes see in banner advertisements. There was a charm to that. I’d never had the means to attend such a fancy school before, and even though I suspected it to be home to my idea of a social hellscape, I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of excitement.
Thoughts of the campus and my cousin roused an uncomfortable thought, one that had been stewing in old guilt for years, left to ferment in all the worst ways. She wasn’t going to be the only one I knew at The Crown Academy. Short of any unexpected circumstances, The Academy encouraged three years of attendance. That meant Bella, who was one year my senior, would - in theory - be about to start her second.
I hadn’t seen her since she was a little girl, taken by Rosita in the name of conscription. As I stepped out into the sunlight, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d still recognize her. Some cynical part of me doubted it. After all, I barely recognized myself some days.
Comments
Kendelle Trotter
You alright Mr. Author? I was letting chapters pile up while subscribed but just noticed you haven't posted anything in a while.
