CHAPTER 17

  WHO IS HONEST

  “Phil!” Arthur blurted out. “There is no way it could be him. He’s harmless.”

  Lurisa pensively rubbed her hands together, “I mean it would make sense. Counsellors don’t have to use magic.”

  “Healing mental trauma is a magic in itself,” Arthur replied. Lurisa judged the comment. “Oh, come on. Give Bill some credit. Hasn’t he healed about eight people who only babbled nonsense for years and now they’re back to their ordinary lives?”

  “Yeah but I think that’s more Bill instead of the counselling,” Lurisa acknowledged his skills.

  Yannis discussed tactics. He wanted an approach where Phil would never be isolated, perhaps to have Lurisa always watching him but it just wasn’t practical with how their timetables worked. Arthur offered but with his many detentions building up, he had little free time. They didn’t know if they should tell Bill, it would crush the poor man to think one of his friends could be like this.

  “How did you two even figure out we’re on the same side?” Arthur said.

  Yannis mocked Lurisa, “She’s terribly awful at hiding what she’s doing. Plus she would question me on random topics, nothing to do with college. Then again, maybe since I was elected by Bolo it also made me more aware of peoples’ intentions.” Yannis seemed sincere, Lurisa shrugged off the comment, it did annoy her however, she assumed she was doing a decent job. The squid creature appeared within a confine that looked like space itself, it had its own stars in the background. Air cooled around them, even Watching through the stainless window the squid held four of its arms together, while rubbing two of the other hands, its skin began to highlight in yellow and poof. Just like that the Orimal disappeared. It was called a Dimisquid. A lazy name created by lazy people. Arthur asked them if they knew about Orimals and the tournaments, to which they replied with a, “Have you seriously never heard of Orimals?”

  They decided to stay in contact about the mission for later. They all agreed the hunger royale was when something would happen, except, what would happen? What was the goal? What was the idea? Yannis left as he had a tight schedule. Just Arthur and Lurisa stayed around watching the free wildlife pick their food from bushes for berries.

  “Can we actually trust him?” Arthur asked. “I mean it’s all well and good he found the nought. But how do we know?”

  “We don’t. But keeping him close is what is vital here. Keep your friends close and enemies closer,” she smiled.

  “Bold to assume you have any friends,” Arthur’s lip curved to one side.

  She squinted evilly at his cheeky smirk, “Then that explains why I’m close with you, doesn’t it?” Arthur thought for a moment, not realising she was insinuating they were enemies.

  Back in the dorms, they were chatting within one of the communal areas. Carpet flooring and a warm dark oak for the inner structure. Having others in the background gave it an even more comforting feel, like a cabin in the snowy mountains. Orange flickered from the hearth, Arthur sat on the floor closest to it with his arms crossed, Lurisa tucked her knees in on the sofa holding a hot drink and Bill had his notepad out as he rehearsed some of his lines, “I am your friend,” a soft way to deepen their relationship, “I understand,” even if he didn’t, “you deserve better, except, you don’t think you deserve better,” that one resonated with a few. Phil was practising some of the lines with him. Lurisa and Arthur couldn’t help but glare at him every time he spoke. He seemed so jolly and kind, how could he be this monster Yannis said he was, unless he was lying. That possibility was looming over them, even then, they had narrowed their search down to them two at least. Arthur watched Phil, he clumsily stuttered his lines with Bill. Could this guy really be him? A sonder note struck as he thought about how everyone was so unique, everyone had their own thoughts, fears and dreams. What were Lurisa’s fears and dreams? What about Bills’, Samara? Would you ever fully know someone? Arthur cringed, who was he to say that? He’d never want them to know who he truly was.

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  Enough of that. Sure Arthur had to get ready for detention tomorrow morning and then for detention at lunch and then after school detention. He was lucky to wriggle out of the sleep detention. Master Ward said it would be done in hour intervals where the student would have to walk to class and next return back to bed four times in the night. He was pretty sure the only reason Ward dismissed it was because it was illegal to make a student do that.

  Morning had arrived, class hadn’t started but detention had. Arthur had to wake up an hour earlier than everyone else, not that he would be able to sleep. Master Ward had given him a Teleminder and within Arthur’s mind all he could hear was Ward laughing like a maniac, it worked well as an alarm. No one could relax in bed after hearing such treacherous screams of laughter. He gently got out of his dorm, not waking the other students, he dressed himself in his smart slim fit shirt and put on a long jacket made only for those who are considered, ‘delinquents,’ which Arthur apparently was the only student with the title and jacket. To the ends of his back, it was painted with a picture of Master Ward posing for a painting, his hand resting under his bearded chin, his eyes set like a hunter, his jawline far sharper than what it was in reality. And to top it all off there were three beautiful women, each with a soft hand caressing him. Embarrassing as it was, Arthur would have presumed the other staff members would have found it incredibly cringe worthy that their boss would do this.

  He stumbled down the stairs, which were constantly drilling vertically, the stairs vibrated under his feet as it flung down to the hallways. It was like watching dominoes fall over but rebuild at the front everytime one fell at the back. At least the stairs made sense to be here, even if it was pointless to have it act the way it did.

  An empty classroom, able to fit in one hundred students. Outside was still dim and no bulbs were lit up in the class. Natural creaks eerily sounded, the atmosphere shifted to tense. He made sure to roll on his feet to not make any clopping sounds. He could make out the outline of all the desks in the faint light and dipped down to sit and shove his notepad on the wooden desk.

  Blinding lights struck, his hand covered his face, the bulbs were pure white instead of their usual relaxing orange. Sitting in front of the blackboard with his feet on the table was Master Ward. Was he seriously sitting in the dark waiting to do this dramatic opening?

  “Starfudge.”

  “Starfinder.”

  Master Ward chuckled, “That’s what I said. This morning I merely want you to think upon your misdeeds. If you want you could write them down. Like maybe, I don’t know, having the wrong opinion on architecture perhaps.” He slapped the air playfully, “Ah, merely just an idea. How do you think you can be forgiven?”

  “Maybe by,” Arthur was stuck on what to say, he could say to cure all disease and misery in the world and Master Ward would complain that people would be put out of their jobs because of it. “Maybe I could be forgiven if I won the Hunger Royale?”

  Ward acknowledged the weight of this. He fingered his beard, pulling at some of the hairs, “Surely he jests,” he whispered even though he downright knew Arthur could hear him, “the boy can hardly lift a sword, never mind best another in combat, or survive in the wild.” He spoke up and more clearly, “Starflock, I hear what you have said and bear in mind I will consider it with deep thought and integrity,” he whispered again, louder this time, “indeed it would be hilarious to see the young prince fail.”

  “I can hear–”

  “I want you to sit for the next twenty minutes and think my dear student. Do you know what is on at the end of this week?”

  Arthur shrugged in response and the Mistrit giggled behind his shoulder. Stupid creature.

  “Parent-teacher meetings!”

  “We’re in college? Colleges don’t even do that,” he was almost certain, no, no he was certain.

  “You must have done your research. I decided it was high time we began the tradition of parent-teacher meetings. And by the gods, plenty will have to be said about you and your despondent behaviour,” Ward laughed from the gut as his mouth faced the high ceiling.