Chương 38: The Academy - 2

When the lecture finally ended, freeing him of the lady who sat behind him and her irritating noises, HE made a break back to the dorms. He wanted to get a headstart on homework. Such a fine escape was too good for him, evidently, when he encountered who else but the lady!

"I'm sorry for being a nuisance," she told him.

"I have been feeling strange lately and have noticed odd things. These ticks of mine, those verbal noises, provide me some relief. I do hope I did not bother you to the point of distraction." The lady curtseyed as a sign of good faith.

"No, no, it is all good. I was distracted, admittedly, but the noises were not anything obtuse. Much better than a young man I sat behind last semester who had the flatulence of an elephant!" He had made the story up about the Young Man from Last Semester just to make the young lady feel better.

"But worry no more! Anywho, I must leave!" He excused himself after that and rushed to get his homework done. On his way back to the dorm, however, he remembered he needed to chit-chat with a university official regarding the status of the island formerly known as 'Murder Island.' Lance diverted course and went straight to the administration building.

He spoke with a few clerks, waited longer than he should have waited, and after a couple hours of waiting, was allowed in to speak with the Supreme Dean, Jackalope Morgan.

"Lance Chaucer? How might I assist you today?" the Supreme Dean said.

"Dean Morgan. Thank you for taking the time to see me. I understand how busy you must be..." Lance told the dean and then began with his story how his father, the legendary Omni-Mage, had trained him over the course of Spring Break by taking him out to Murder Island. He told the dean everything — of the violence, the conversions, and how he claimed the island after completing all of the Accomplishments in the Heavenly Suite. As he spoke, the dean looked at him dumbstruck.

When he finished, the dean asked, "Are you for real, mister Chaucer? This is quite the story you're telling, especially for a first year! Had anyone with a father other than yours told it, I would not believe you!"

"Rest assured, Dean Morgan, every word I am telling is the truth and nothing but the truth. If you have questions you wish to be clarified, then by all means, ask and I will answer." Lance kept eye contact with the dean to show his honest nature. Though the dean did ask a few questions, namely, about the leyline station cleansing and how he had claimed the territory, he asked no others.

"An incredible achievement, young man. An achievement I hope you will consider sharing with the institution and the wider holy organization..."

"That is actually why I am here, honorable Dean Morgan. Currently, my initiates are on the island building some basic structures using the island's natural resources, but... a lot was lost during my rampage through their ranks and fortifications and resources like tools and books and the skills to make furniture and the daily needs of life are not there." He paused to catch his breath.

"I was hoping that the institution would be willing support the island as an official colony. Maybe even set up a portal between here and the island?" You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The Dean smiled.

"Portals are expensive to build, certify, and connect, but we can revisit that later. I think, for the time being, we should consider ourselves in partnership. We know where Murder Island is because of its vile legacy. I will dispatch an agent there to scope the dimensions of the island, the number of inhabitants, and what is available already. Once we scope out such pre-requisites, we can strike a wider support deal."

"That sounds lovely, Dean Morgan, I look forward to continuing this discussion once your agent confirms the details. If you should need any help from me on this matter, do not hesitate to reach out. I will help any way I can!" The meeting ended and he returned to his dorm to do homework before his next class. Said meeting had gone as well as he expected it to go, though, if he were being honest, he expected the Supreme Dean to be a touch more enthusiastic about Murder Island being cleansed.

He figured the dean would've wanted to set up a portal right away to start funneling supplies to the island. Then again, he was but nineteen years old, there was a lot about running an academy he did not know about. He was sure the dean had their reasons for being circumspect. He finished his homework in record time.

It was nothing but a reflection piece on the nature of history and whether he felt history had an 'endpoint,' and if so, what that end point was: he threw out his normal 'we can only be sure of the material processes of the world and how populations move those resources and processes, as, without them, we know nothing beyond what the gods have illuminated.' He stuck the parchment into his class binder and was off to his next class. His final course for the day was 'Healing Factors: What Matters and What Does Not.'

It was a class he really should've taken the first semester, but it was full-up when he went to apply. Hence, he was pushed back a term to take it. The course was taught in the same courtyard as his history class earlier. He took his same seat as from last time and opened his notebook to a fresh page. The professor entered and began writing on the chalkboard several different healing scripts. She asked the class the difference between them and how they could identify said differences based on the script.

Professor Brim called on someone behind him: "Sir, the differences are as follows: a diagram hook, a half-circle, and a triangle. Those differences mark what the circles can and cannot do within the healing artes. I will not delineate those differences..." Hearing the person behind him speak to authoritatively attracted Lance to them and made him strain to listen. Easier said than done with an annoying sound going off nearby every few seconds; in fact, that sound, like the smack of wet lips, sounded familiar...

he turned to see none other than the rotund bald lady from before! Had she always been in his class? Surely, she had not transferred in over the break. He redirected his focus and listened to the learned student speak on the differences in the healing-oriented diagrams. He did his best and listened, but the sounds from the bald woman only intensified as class went on; again, he had to turn around and ask her to settle.

Like last time, however, the sounds abated for only a little while before they returned with more force than before. Lance got lucky. His healing course was only ninety minutes long, not three hours. Their professor assigned a hefty homework assignment, and he bolted the moment they were allowed to leave. Wouldn't you know it, though, the rotund lady — again! — waited for him by the exit.

"Madam," he said.

"You are forgiven for the noises you've made. I must be off, though, for I am not proficient in healing-based magic, and this homework will take me a long time." The lady bowed slightly.

"Of course, sire. I only wished to apologize once again... in fact, I am skilled in the healing artes. Might I apologize further by helping you with your homework? I know a lovely spot in the library where we will be able to go without interruption." He considered the woman's proposition. He didn't much like the fact of her ticks, nor the noises they made. He was bad in healing, though. Against his better judgement, he took her up on the offer.

"Lead the way, madam! I would be happy for you to teach me your techniques." She smiled at him broadly.

"You've love it, promise!"