OoC: This is carried on directly from my
previous training thread, so you’ll want to have a peek at it.
IC:
The messenger was gone before Nathan could catch a look at him, but he managed to hear the resonant click of boots on the floor of the bedroom antechamber.
“Looks like my training’s about to begin,” Nathan cooed outwardly. “It’s just a pity that vixen Cadenza’s my teacher.” The boy shook some drops of water from his hair and giggled at his own insult. “I should get her fired some time. “
The boy half ran, half skipped his way back to the cottage, all the time savouring the sand between his toes and the sun on his back. It had risen since his little jaunt in the ocean; the time was about eleven, he guessed.
Once inside Nathan hastily peeled off his wet shorts. He inspected the never-ending closet of goodies until he found what he was looking for, a pair of trousers. It was made from a synthetic material he had never come across: black, yet shiny, and impossibly smooth. He marvelled at the craftsmanship as he pulled them on, relishing the feel of the fabric on his skin. The new trousers didn’t match Nate’s outfit, but he didn’t care. Hearing this all-important announcement in the foyer was the most important thing at the moment. He threw on his cap with a flourish and a jingle of bells, and bounced out the door.
*
Even now, knowing its true purpose, the antechamber sent an eerie chill up Nate’s spine, like it could trap him again at any moment. He wouldn’t put it past Cadenza to play with his hope even more than she already had. With that in mind the boy hurried out of the room, into the dim, fiery light of the Dome. The long corridor before him was deserted, spotted with ancient doors like everywhere else in the great school.
“George?” he called half-heartedly, wishing the kind sailor would escort him again. “Are you there?”
Suddenly the sound of footfalls reverberated against the tough marble floor, but it wasn’t George’s knowing swagger. The strides were confident, but in a mocking way, as if they were supposed to be heard as part of a trap. Nathan’s senses were immediately heightened; the boy cursed as an image of his sabre on the bedside table flashed through his mind. Luckily, his pistol had been wrapped in his shirt by the previous evening’s mysterious visitor. He cocked it hastily and held it in his two hands, ready to fire if an enemy approached.
The footsteps continued, but there was something odd about them. The sound didn’t heighten or quieten, it remained the same. It didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere either; it was nothing more than a uniform ticking in his head. Paranoia grew, a dangerous weed in the garden of his imagination.
“Show yourself!”
The steps continued, boring into his skull, his soul. The boy fired a shot, swearing seconds later as it ricocheted from the stone wall. It landed harmlessly a few feet away. Still the strides continued; it was time to take action.
Nathan darted like a shadow to the wall on his left, keeping his back permanently glued to it. His gun was poised mere centimetres from his face, in a position humorously reminiscent of something from a bad action movie. “Coward!” he cried, creeping ever further along the grand hallway.
“Is that so?”
Nathan froze, examining the voice intently. It was strong and refined, oozing etiquette. He waited for another sound. Nothing came, only the volcanic beating of his heart. “So there is someone there, not just another cowardly mind game?”
“That’s for you to decide for yourself; where is the noise coming from?
Nathan listened intently to the noise that followed. It was odd, hard to trace. His best guess told him it was the echo of a hollow metal barrel, repeated endlessly.
“Follow the sound. Further down the corridor? Through your own psyche? Decide for yourself.”
The footfalls had ceased, one thing to be assured by. The beating of the drum, however, was poignant as ever.
“Reality, or imagination?”
Nathan ignored it, adamant on finding the source of the sound. He slithered down the corridor, just to see if the sound got louder. It didn’t. Finally, another idea came to him. It pulsed through him, pushing out every other thought. His hand loosed subconsciously, dropping the pistol with another wayward shot. The boy closed his eyes slowly, almost as if he was going to begin meditating. He clasped his hands over his ears and inhaled deeply, ready to truly listen. The beating continued.
“Get out of my head.” It was little more than a whisper, but was fuelled by loathing and indignation. “Get out.”
The hammering stopped crisply, just as another sound began: clapping. It was slow and concise, coming from directly behind him. The boy dropped his hands to the ground and grabbed the gun, readied it to fire. He swung around to face they way he had come. A door opened in front of him.
“You certainly took your time!” It was the same voice from his head, but less ethereal. “Half-finished education, I’m guessing?” The man walked out slowly from the other room. He was incredibly tall, with his jet black hair slicked back with a tub of cream. He was wearing a pristine black suit with matching black tie, and his hands were adorned with countless gold rings. He walked one step closer to Nate.
“Stay back!” the boy shouted, raising his gun to the man’s head.
The man fixed Nathan with a penetrating gaze, almost as if he was looking inside his head. Without thinking, Nate dropped the pistol. He stared incredulously at his hand. “How did you do that?” he coughed.
“Resist the urge to kill me and you might find out.”
The boy nodded slowly and swallowed, reaching down to fetch his gun. Just as he did so, the man began talking again.
“You may have been slightly perturbed earlier when a harbinger announced your summons; well, I’m here to erase any doubts you may have. Cadenza and some other instructors have gone, to be blunt; we don’t know where, why, or even if they will be coming back, but we have to deal with the present situation. As you can imagine, some new teachers have been hired to replace the old. It is my job to root out those unworthy of tutelage, now that our most experienced staff members are gone. You however
are worthy of training. If you come with me we can begin the preliminary assignments to decide your
fate."
He emphasised the last word, clung to it longer than the others. By the time Nate picked up on it he had started taking huge strides down the corridor. Nathan ran to catch up with him then looked up into his protruding eyes.
“My fate?” he enquired anxiously.
The man let out a crisp laugh. “Just something to get your heart going. I couldn’t resist playing with someone so infantile.” He laughed again and walked on.
*
Nathan didn’t try to follow as the man knowingly navigated through hundreds of intricate corridors. There was nothing noticeable, nothing out of place. They were all the same: marble floors, walls carved from gargantuan boulders, thousands of dusty lamps. He imagined though that each of the rooms concealed by those plain wooden doors were as fascinating and unconventional as his own dorm. He didn’t get to see a single one. A crowd had gathered a few metres before him, in a distinctly circular part of the Dome. It was about half-way down a corridor, he guessed, with the only distinguishable feature being a pane of thin glass and a panel of wood that separated the crowd and a diminutive secretary. The tall man left Nathan’s side, tapped the glass lightly.
“That’s the last one, Melissa,” he said through a warm smile.
“Of course, Professor. I’ll begin orientation now.” The little woman stood up on her strong wooden chair and clasped her hands together. The entire crowd immediately glanced in her direction. She smiled broadly. “You few have survived the purge!” she whistled. “And, as your prize, you may continue your tutelage here at the esteemed Dome. As your examiners have already explained, your previous teachers have-“ she paused, “Retired. As such, you will be given new teachers. Now, if you would be so kind as to follow me, the evaluations can begin.” The lady stepped off her stool and pushed part of the wood outward to escape her compartment. She ushered forward quickly with her hands, waddling to the nearest door and tapping it lightly. The woman entered with a slither as Nate rushed to get a better view.
It was a gymnasium, but scattered throughout were pieces of magical apparatus and fierce-looking instructors, spell-casters and warriors alike. The little woman clapped her hands again. “Welcome to orientation!”