Drawstone

Sly apparently had several high-ranking friends in Oberon's security detail. Hunter was unsure what to make of them as they all made time to visit him personally. They appeared to be assessing him and were all friendly — much more personable than he would expect from a bunch of career warriors. He'd asked to see Sly, but he'd been unconscious since he collapsed during the rescue.

Just outside the museum, medical first-responders examined Hunter and found him uninjured. Then he was told to wait until his new armed escort arrived. His new escort, five mean-looking dudes with rifles strapped across their chests, told him they had orders to help him move his belongings from the hotel suite to the estate.

Hunter had forgotten about the hotel. He felt like he had too much to process over the last few hours. In five days, he faced gang threats, left his home, won a global competition, got adopted by a powerful family, and escaped death. He was surprised by his own resilience. After the nerves of the attack wore off, he felt more or less the same. The only thing that stood out was a sudden craving for a coffee to wake him up and provide him a hit of bliss.

The fight to secure the museum almost destroyed the tale of the Journeyer. Two of the paintings were gone forever. The other two were on various states of destruction and would take a long time to restore.

Hunter regretted the loss, but was glad that he'd been able to see it while it was still whole — to see it almost like his dad had years ago. It had felt like a bridge through time.

He reminded himself that it wasn't like they were the only Asutnahem artifacts in the world. The thought was consoling. He'd love to take the time to see more of them one day. Who knows, maybe the Barnum Academy had an elective dedicated to ancient history.

An armored van, driven by Hunters' new bodyguards, took him back to the hotel. His scant possessions would easily fit inside. One of his bodyguards got a call from Mrs. Verillion on the way. She told him they were all glad to hear that he was alright, and she asked if Hunter needed anything from his old home in Seckina. The Comics hadn't taken his absence of grace, having invaded the place while he'd been gone. There were threats spray painted around the inside and outside of the house, but his old workbench and some of his tools appeared unharmed.

He told her he'd take the tools. He imagined that if the new room that Stewart was working on was up to Oberon Enterprises' standard, he'd hardly miss his old set up.

They spent the night at the hotel. The bodyguards had grabbed the suite across from Hunters, and took turns watching his door. Not that he cared. It took him less than four minutes to put everything he'd brought with him near the door, and then he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Mrs. Verilion was waiting for him when he arrived at the mansion the next day, and this surprised him.

"I thought you were all the way out in Seckina," Hunter said.

"I have a small army of staff to do all of that for me," she said. "my job for the day is to ensure you get settled in with no more issues. But before that, I'm to escort you to meet with Mr. Oberon and Ms. Aera."

Hunter had a premonition about his time as an Oberon. He imagined that life would be busy, both before and beyond his coming time at the academy. He was prepared to make the sacrifice, though. Gone were the days of being able to spend 8 hours utterly transfixed by an especially curious set of glyph synergies and their combinations or implications.

Hunter learned something crucial from his first encounter with Stewart. Even with a busy future ahead, his position as an Oberon gave him power and freedom to shape his life in certain ways. He planned to use his newfound freedom wisely. He didn't want to squander his opportunity to achieve his dreams. Synergies were his ticket to new worlds, and he would devote every second he could to developing them and researching more.

He'd expected Mrs. Verilion to bring him to Trey's office, but she led him down a few long hallways, which led to a large room. Hunter could only refer to it as a living room given his lack of experience with the thousand subtleties of luxury lifestyles. Trey's office overlooked the land from mountain to capital city. This room, however, was humbler, with a thirty-foot pane of glass separating it from the surrounding forest.

Trey and Aera were standing by a very massive, puffy sofa. Another identical sofa sat parallel to it. A large television stood guard before the imposing window, playing some financial news broadcast. Stock tickers scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

"Hunter! I'd have asked Syler what possessed you to make a trip to the museum yesterday of all days, but he is still unconscious from all the excitement," Trey said, barking a short laugh. "You can tell us all about it. Have you met my daughter yet? I suppose she's your adoptive sister now. Aera, meet Hunter. Hunter, Aera."

Aera was just as striking in real life as she'd been in all the photos he'd seen of her on the news. She was tall, not as tall as Hunter, of course, but tall enough to catch attention. She had the build of an athlete.

Trey had said she had an AR of, what, 40? 30? Such a high AR at such a young age would imply an incredible potential for athleticism that they would have been foolish not to take full advantage of.

Hunter's heart burned with envy. She was basically walking history. A world-record holder, and she would break more records in the future. Who knows how high her AR would reach?

She had platinum-blonde hair, cut short and even. It contrasted the more popular hairstyles Hunter had seen. It was almost like something out of a science fiction comic book.

He smiled and nodded at her, holding out his hand for her to shake. Her face remained impassive as she reached out and shook it once. A hard look in her eye showed a displeasure that Hunter hadn't expected from someone happy to meet him. Which could only mean that she wasn't.

"Excellent. Both of you will have plenty of time to get to know each other in the coming days and years," Trey said. "Hunter, before you fill us in on everything that happened yesterday, I'd like to go over the plan I've set up for you two. Come and sit."

Trey sat down on the sofa nearest to him. Aera sat beside him, and Hunter felt it would be awkward if he sat on the same couch, so he placed himself on the couch across from them. As he sat, he felt like he was falling through a cloud for a full few seconds before meeting resistance, and even then, it was almost like he was being cradled by the sky.

He must have looked as astonished as he felt.

"I always love seeing people's expressions when they sit on these," Trey said, patting the armrest beside him. "They've been with the family for over a century. Couldn't tell you where they came from, though."

"I can honestly say I've felt nothing like it," Hunter said.

A steward appeared from the hallway, holding a tray of snacks and beverages. Trey rolled up his sleeves and ate as soon as someone placed the trays in front of him.

"Dig in, guys. I haven't eaten all day, so this is breakfast and lunch for me," Trey said between bites. "My ex-wife, Aera's mother, lectured me endlessly about eating a bunch of pastries for my first meal of the day. I justify it to myself by limiting such indulgence to twice a week."

After finishing, he wiped his hands on one of the thick napkins, the kind you'd expect to find in a fine restaurant, and pulled over a small folder. He skimmed the contents for a moment and then nodded.

"The plan," he said, waving the folder in his hand, "Listen up, you too."

Trey cleared his throat.

"Hunter, I found your school transcripts, and I was shocked to see that your attendance was only recorded for your first few years of elementary school. I did a bit more digging and found a comment which noted that the day after your father's death, you stopped attending school altogether."

Hunter was about to respond, but Trey held up a finger and continued.

"Your absence past that point is understandable, but in order to succeed at Barnum, we'll need to do our best to rectify the gaps in your education. Including your ether and construct knowledge. Ah-ah, I know," Trey said, once more forestalling Hunters' impending interruption, "but I'll remind you of your performance during the preliminary examination. You would not have attended the competition if it weren't for Ms. Collingwood. Although your written answers were delightful, you'll find that Barnum will require your utmost in all academic dimensions. Understood?"

Hunter frowned. He understood, but he didn't like it. Names, dates and events were boring. Who cared about who, what, where, and when? All that mattered was how the construct performed.

Aera seemed unimpressed by her father's announcement. She considered Hunter with a frown, and Hunter felt himself tense up.

Well, he had wondered what she was like. He figured he could already see how this was going to go. The scorn, then, would go both ways.

He fixed his attention on Trey. If this was how she was going to be, then she wouldn't matter. He figured he could find plenty of reasons to avoid being in proximity to her. The mansion was a big place, and for the next couple of weeks, he can spend as much time alone in his room as possible.

Over the next few weeks, you'll participate in a crash course covering everything you need to know for the academy. We've hired an excellent teacher who you'll be spending about 7 hours a day with. We can't obviously cover five years of education in just a few weeks, but we'll cover what you need to succeed when your courses begin. Daily tutoring sessions with Aera will supplement your academic crash course. During these sessions, Aera will also teach you the basics of self defence, as martial arts are a part of Barnum's mandatory curriculum. Questions?"

"When do we begin?" Aera asked.

Hunter's face grew uncomfortably warm. His skin itched.

Trey knew about his AR handicap, and he was only telling Hunter about mandatory martial arts training now?

With Aera?

Was this anger he was feeling?

"Tomorrow. We'll give Hunter the day to settle in and prepare himself."

Aera nodded and stood.

"Will that be all?" She asked.

Trey rose an eyebrow, and they seemed to share some sort of unspoken conversation.

"That'll be all," he said. Aera walked out of the room, her pace implying an eagerness to be anywhere else but in that room.

"She's a very busy young woman. How about you, Hunter?" Trey asked once she'd left. "Any questions?"

"My AR deficiency has influenced my bone and muscle growth. I'm a lot weaker than most others my age. My AR deficiency stunted my bone and muscle growth, so I'm unsure if I'm well-suited for martial arts."

Trey frowned.

"Of course, despite your impressive performance during the competition, you were working with quite the handicap. I hadn't realized it also affected you physically, which is an oversight I shouldn't have made. You have my apologies. However, I still believe it will be in your best interest to learn how to defend yourself. Surely your time at the museum has convinced you of something along that line as well."

He remembered how pathetic and powerless he'd felt the previous day.

"Maybe it's worth a try," Hunter said with a sigh. Something told him that Trey wouldn't budge on this.

"That attitude will get you far in life, Hunter. With that out of the way, please tell me what happened yesterday. It's too bad Aera isn't here to listen, but that's her loss, isn't it?"

Hunter shrugged, not wanting to state what he was thinking about the man's daughter, figuring that it was best to keep things civil.

He took a deep breath before starting. He still felt uncertain about the entire experience. Some parts were all a blur. The whole thing felt so surreal. He'd survived a terrorist attack and saved lives.

Yet his inner critic wouldn't stop voicing all the ways it could have gone wrong.

What if making the construct put them all in more danger than they would have been in otherwise? What if, instead of helping, he'd made things worse, somehow? What if the destruction that the Force explosion had caused had been totally unnecessary?

There was no way for him to know. Plenty of people had told him that his quick thinking helped innocent people live, but did it? He kept his doubts to himself as he told Trey what he remembered from the incident. Trey seemed impressed and smiled when Hunter told him how much of an impression Sly had made on him.

Despite his youth, Syler—one of the youngest ever to join the Oberon Guard's special operations—is among the most finest and most decorated officers I've had the honor of employing. He's our youngest Guard Captain, the youngest in our history. For some reason, he decided he wanted to try something quieter. His assignment for you was intended to be less demanding than his typical work."

"Less demanding, huh?" Hunter laughed.

"Even an Oberon's life isn't usually this exciting," Trey admitted, sighing. "You know, Hunter, I'm aware of how much you've been going through over the last little while. And I wouldn't have put so much work on your plate if I didn't think it was all necessary. You know that, right?"

Although Hunter was annoyed by Trey's request for extra studying, and expected unpleasant tutoring sessions with Aera, he had agreed to earn a degree of Excellence at the academy.

Hunter knew that the studying and training was necessary. He just didn't like it.

"I get it," Hunter said. "I'll do my best."

"Thank you, Hunter. Now, I'll leave you to spend the rest of the day however you wish, on the condition that you don't stray too far from the estate. After yesterday, we'll be playing it safe," Trey said, standing up to leave. "Just ask any of the house staff to show you around if you get lost. This house can be a bit of a labyrinth if you aren't used to it."

Hunter thanked him and enjoyed the solitude of the room for a few minutes before he set out to find his assigned room. This would be the only time in the next few weeks when he'd be able to do what he wanted, and he planned to full use of it.

Stewart appeared just as he was leaving, and he informed Hunter that they had finished all the room alterations ahead of time. He escorted Hunter to his new room, and he fell in love with it.

The room was incredibly spacious. The workbench was like the one he'd been using during the competition. The bed was massive, almost three times the size as Hunters' old one in Seckina. True to form, the room featured a large window with a similar view to the one that he'd seen in Trey's office.

The room was like something out of a dream, or a high-end real estate magazine. He had a full walk-in closet and ensuite washroom that put the hotel to shame. He had his own jacuzzi tub, a double sink nested in a marble countertop. The shower was bigger than any he'd seen before, and Hunter was relieved that he wouldn't have to hunch over to clean his hair.

"I trust you're satisfied, sir?" Stewart asked.

"It's perfect," Hunter said. He remembered the room back in his old house, on the Koar estate. It wasn't even nearly as luxurious as this one. But what that room had lacked in size and sheer luxury, it made up for in being cozy and private.

Luckily, the big window had sliding blinds that Hunter was quick to close. He would spend the next few hours focused on his work and nothing else.

He'd earned it.

Stewart dismissed himself as Hunter settled in, unpacking what little belongings he had and sitting at the desk. He installed the third arm and hung the rest of his tools on the small tool-board attached to his wall. It didn't come installed with the machining tools that the workbenches at the competition had, but that made sense to him. He figured he wouldn't need them, anyway. Research was the focus of the day. He wouldn't be making any constructs.

He reviewed his mental table of synergies and decided that now would be a good time to record them. Then a small and quiet voice told him he couldn't afford to risk anyone finding it, especially here. Those thoughts had been present back in Seckina, too. He felt unsafe in his own neighbourhood and had to listened to his instincts. Who knew what the Comics were capable of? Breaking into his house in the middle of the night seemed plausible, and he couldn't risk them finding his research.

Now, he felt worried that Trey would have people watching him, waiting for any sign that he'd produced something the company could use. Maybe the paranoia wasn't serving him very well in this situation. Maybe he was thinking too much.

But maybe he wasn't, and that possibility was enough to convince him to continue to keep his research locked inside his own mind.