“Who the hell does this guy think he is?”
“Screw you, boy. There isn't anyone here who is willing to die for you.”
“Time travel? That’s impossible. The energy to do that would require you to sacrifice tens of thousands of- ow! Why did you punch me?”
“Shut up! That’s what you get for being a nerd.”
“Hey, the village called. They want their idiot back.”
“Looks like this guy's a few potatoes short of a full sack.”
“Hi, the village cal- Fuck! I'm too late. Somebody already made that joke.”
“Monsters from the Khazun mountain range? What is this, some kind of lame fan fiction? I could piss out a better story in my sleep.”
“Now’s not a very good time to talk about your bed-wetting problem, Jorel.”
“What? Oh screw you Karl!”
“If you’re from the future, can you tell me if I found my true love?”
“A Goddess serving tea and biscuits? Blasphemy! Anyone who reads the holy scriptures knows that a Goddess shall reward her loyal believers in heaven by allowing them to suckle the milk flowing from her divine breasts and honey gushing from her sacred v- wait, why are you guys starring at me?”
Most of the outburst are coming from the commoner students sitting at the back of the dining hall where the barefooted, hospital gown-wearing boy appeared. Half of the elite students have returned to their meal after shaking their heads in disgust while the other half is engaged in deep conversation on the dangers of inter-marriage between the upper class and the lower class.
Headmaster Joss is guffawing loudly with what could only be described as tears of laughter streaming down his face. His right hand is slapping the table noisily and repeatedly whiles his left hand is on the right shoulder of his deputy Master Wes, trying its hardest to restrain the man sitting next to him from getting up and murderpunishing the boy.
Since the creation of the Whiteford Academy some 250 years ago, there has never been an incident during dinner time at the north hall. Even in the days long ago when some foolish outside forces tried to invade the Kingdom of Nurani in some deluded grand scheme to conquer the Grandiel Continent, dinner at the academy was served and consumed peacefully. Students and faculty members would calmly partake and finish their food, then go out to meet the enemies who were practically knocking at their academy’s door.
This sacred tradition is broken tonight by the boy standing near the entrance of the dining hall. And Master Wes furiously wanted to drag him to the courtyard, string him up by the ankles and leave the fool hanging for a month for the whole world can see. But his superior and old friend, Headmaster Joss, is telling him to calm down, forgive the boy and relax. Which is a bit hypocritical because the headmaster looks like he’s about to die from laughing too much.
Headmaster Joss wipes the corner of his eyes with his sleeve. The timing was fucking perfect, the headmaster thought. He doesn't give a crap that some of his teachers are looking at him with judgmental eyes. “That shit was funny, I don’t care what they say.” chuckles the headmaster under his breath while trying hard to stifle another round of laughter that is attempting to escape from his stomach.
Master Haithur is secretly alternating looks between the headmaster and the boy. He wonders why the old man would allow the farce to continue for as long as it did, and why the headmaster wouldn't permit his deputy to punish the boy. Master Haithur wonders if he could use also this incident tonight against Headmaster Joss. The senile fool and other like him should just bow out honorably while they still can. It’s time for the old guards to retire and make way for the new generation. The days where the top positions in the academy should only be held by knights from the Order of Enahel are over. Master Haithur licks his lips while he smiles. He is looking forward to the moment where he will put the old fart and the rest of his kind out to pasture, and the moment will be coming soon.
The barefooted, hospital gown-wearing boy is confused. He has just told them what could possibly be the most important information of their lives, and they’re acting like he had committed the great sin of dancing on their fathers’ graves and sleeping with the widows.
The chaos continues until a seventh year commoner student suddenly stands up and hurls his goblet at the boy. The cup and its none-alcoholic content fly towards the boy’s head at an angle that could not be possibly seen by him. Just as the boy is about to get hit (some of the students are even getting ready to cheer), the unthinkable happens.
Either by luck or design, the boy catches the goblet without looking at it. More surprisingly to those who are watching, the boy manages to capture all the liquid flying in the air in one smooth motion, not a drop spilled or an inch moved from the spot he’s standing. The speed is godlike, and the feat could almost be declared a miracle if seen by a priest. The boy’s act made the jaws of the onlookers drop so low they could almost hit the dining tables.
The boy looks quizzically at the goblet that suddenly appeared in his hand, as if wondering where it had come from. “Thanks for the drink. My throat has been killing me for a while now.” the boy finally declares before gulping the entire content in one go.
The entire dining hall is quiet now, the silence occasionally broken by sound of the boy’s loud slurping as he greedily drinks the cup. No one dares move or say anything, they still haven’t recovered from the shock of what they've seen earlier. Just before someone in the crowd could decide that enough is enough and put an end to this madness, the boy finishes his drink and says “Now where were we?”
The boy looks at the crowd in front of him, each and every one of them feels like he’s looking at them personally. The boy suddenly flashes a smile that made most of the students (and a few of the teachers) flinch in their seats.
“It seems you guys are skeptical and are not inclined to believe what I've just said.” the boy drops the goblet from his hand.
“Can’t say I blame you guys for that.” he kicks the goblet just before it hits the ground with his left foot.
“Hell, I would too if I was in your position.” the cup continues flying into the air, straight towards its original owner who is still standing dumbstruck from the incident before.
“Looks like I have to help you see the errors of your ways.” the cup hits its original owner squarely in the chest with such force, it sends him crashing backwards into his seat.
“Where shall we begin?” the boy smiles again as the empty cup lands neatly on the dinning table with a thud.
Saw that I got another review yesterday (yay, my second one) and I thought "Screw taking a break and catching up with my work. I'm gonna crank out another chapter."
But seriously, you guys are gonna get me in trouble with my boss.