Cordyceps Eight
Cordyceps Eight
For a moment I was worried that I wouldn’t know where to go once I arrived at the school, but someone had thought ahead. Past the line of waiting carriages where some kids were being dropped off was the main school building.
It was a grand edifice made of off-white stones that rose up three stories and towered above the entrance plaza. The school’s name was carved into the arch above the entrance again. Surprisingly, the building, as big as it was, wasn’t too deep. I could see through the entrance and right out the back on the other side. Instead, most of the building’s space was split into two large wings to the east and west.
Older boys--almost adults--in the same uniform I wore but with long robes on with bright blue sashes across their fronts were directing people through.
“You new?” One of them asked me without any preamble.
I nodded.
“Go through that door and to the other side. Put your bags in the heap. Don’t fuss about it. If you need help, look for a prefect.” He pinched his sash and wiggled it about.
I nodded again and slipped past.
As he said, there was a heap of bags and luggage just to the right of the entrance way. I noticed a couple of adults in robes not too dissimilar to the prefects to one side. Teachers? They looked far too old to be students.
I slipped past them, just another short person in a growing sea of them.
The courtyard behind the academy’s main building was a great big space filled with paving stones. Two large statues stood by the front of men I didn’t recognize, and along the edges were some planters with a few flowers within them. All in dark blues and whites.
The older students were milling around in big groups, with the occasional raucous laugh as someone arrived and met up with friends. The younger students, the ones I’d be joining, were all scattered about, though it seemed as if a few prefects were hard at work herding them into a big, disorganised group by the front.
I decided not to cause too much trouble and slipped into that group.
I was definitely one of the shortest first years, but not the shortest. Maybe I wouldn’t stand out too much. There were even a couple of redheads around.
Some of the younger students clearly knew each other and were chatting already, but I noticed a number of them just staring around, wide-eyed and lost. Clearly I wasn’t the only one who was entirely friendless here.
I was going to have to put my social skills to work, I figured.
The first thing to do, though, was find a likely target. I might have had a few skills helping me, but that didn’t mean I had great odds of hitting it off with just anyone.
A few candidates jumped out from the rest. Obviously I had to stick within my age group. The older years wouldn’t care to make friends with someone younger, and they likely had friends already. Besides, I was with all of the students in my own year.
A couple of kids were on the outskirts, reading or doodling all on their own. Loners would make for easy friends, especially if they started to be bullied by others in our group, but it would take time to break through to them, I figured.
A few larger groups had formed already, and usually they had one or two outspoken kids in their centre that were carrying the conversation. Those around them weren’t quite sycophants, just less outspoken.
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Breaking into one of those would be hard as well.
So I aimed for something in the middle. Small groups of two or three kids, minding their business and chatting together, not part of a larger group, but comfortable all the same.
That would be ideal for me. I didn’t need friends here. Not real, genuine friends. These kids were so much younger than me, at least mentally, that I couldn’t imagine myself becoming close to them. At the same time, however, if I wanted to pass unnoticed and unbothered, having some people to tag along with would be great. They’d also provide me with alibis in case I needed one.
My real goal was to befriend a few select people. Four of them, in this case, but at the moment I had no way of identifying my targets, and going around asking for them by name would be strange. Better to find out who they were organically and then work from there.
I approached a pair of boys nearby, purely because one of them was a carrot-top and I had a sneaking suspicion that it would make us both targets of some teasing, but just as I was about to introduce myself, there was a sudden bustle. The prefects were now herding us with more urgency, and a lot of conversations died down.
The older students quickly formed up into neat rows, and I found myself stepping to the side to fit into a far-less neat row of my own. Somehow I ended up right at the front, which was very much not something I wanted, but I couldn’t just swap with the kid behind me.
The teachers were filing into the courtyard, and one of them raised a staff into the air then smacked it down.
The ground trembled and the cobbles at the front rose a foot off the ground, creating a stage onto which the teachers came to stand in a flurry of robes. Another tremble and a podium stood up from the centre and a man came to stand behind it while two prefects ran up to the podium and quickly installed a microphone behind it.
The man, who I presumed was the principal from the cut of his robes and his rather stately airs, flicked the brass ring of the microphone and a whine filled the air for a moment.
He took a deep breath while scanning us all and I felt myself pinned to the spot. “We stand before the statues of Lord Eden and Sir Powell, the two great founders of this prestigious academy, and I dare say they would be proud to see so many fresh faces once again,” he said. I wasn’t sure he even needed the microphone, the way his voice boomed. “I am William Board, Principal of this fine institution, and for the next year, at least, I will be watching over each and every one of you boys to ensure that you obtain the very best education. You will not leave this school empty of head or spirit.”
I glanced to the sides and noted lots of fresh faces paying rapt attention, so I did the same. Had he used a skill for that? It certainly felt as if my attention was being... tugged towards him. I suspected that I’d felt a similar effect from advertising before, though this was stronger, more potent.
“To our older students, welcome once again. Our doors are forever open to inquisitive minds. To those of you who are here for the very first time, I hope that your time at Eden-Powell will be the best times of your life. Pay close attention, work hard, and keep a sensible head, and you will discover that there is much this academy can offer.”
I nodded along. That sounded fair.
“No matter your goal, no matter your vision, we will give you the tools to accomplish it.”
That was a bold-faced lie. My goals being accomplished would leave little room for an institution like this one. I blinked as I noticed that I’d missed a line or two.
“On that note, we’d like to present everyone with a few changes. For one, level-one Maths will be presided over by a new member of the staff, Mister Tan.” The Principal half-turned and gestured to one of the robed men behind him who bowed at the crowded students. “And we have added two new minor electives this year. The debate club has been reinstated after a three year pause, and the Poetry society has found a new chairman and enough signatures to flourish once more.”
And then he started to go over minutiae that I really couldn’t care less about. I listened, but only enough not to get caught out.
I still didn’t know what to expect from this academy, but I was willing to hope for the best.
Eventually the speech finished, and a pair of staff members came to stand before us all with scrolls in hand. They unfurled them and started to read names. Each called someone out in turn, and as they did, a student would run up and gather behind the staff member.
“Kilue, Gunther,” the man on the left said, and I jumped as I realized that that was me.
Scurrying along, I formed up at the back of the line, ignoring a few chuckles from others who’d noticed my fumble.
What a great start.
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