Every Calamity I Survive Becomes My Skill Tree
Chapter 55: Promise (Part 2: Finale)
"They’re from Aldous’ Turning."
Miss Cox watched the crates after he’d returned to her.
"They buried him on Friday," she continued. "Together with Louise. Were you there?"
Pressing a palm to his chest, he took a deep breath.
"I had a fever. I wasn’t."
The woman rested the clipboard on her knee and angled back to him.
"How do you feel about the days you spent hiding in the corridors?"
"I just want to—"
The school comms clicked on.
"Dear students, please gather by the stage in the north-west yard. I expect all teachers to accompany their classes outside within ten minutes."
So much for the consultation. Barely fifteen minutes, and Thwaite had already given him a reason to stand up. Just because Milo was not in a class per se didn’t mean he was excluded.
As he straightened from the cushions, leaving a hollow in the white flowers, Miss Cox raised her voice.
"Please finish, Milo."
"After," he replied, making for the door.
Outside the psychologist’s cozy, albeit somewhat artificial room, dimmer light fell on the academy’s bland brickwork.
The morning’s breeze had slipped through some opening, brushing Milo’s face as he navigated the corridors and joined the chattering current.
By the exit, he spotted Layla’s vibrant coils bobbing among the crowd, and threaded alongside her. The principal, scratching the gray stubble at his jaw, emerged on the same stage that all the previous catastrophic announcements had come from.
Phone in hand, the girl pressed at his shoulder, steering him toward the edge of the gathering.
"So how was it? I wish you’d just started talking without me having to interrogate you."
"It wasn’t exactly a full session. Thwaite called us out here."
"Fifteen minutes is a ton for a first impression! What’s she like? Did she ask about your health?"
"She...? How did you know it’s a she?"
"Psychologists are often female, aren’t they?"
"My previous one wasn’t."
"Well, you know how societal stereoty—"
"Did you stalk her?"
"No, I didn’t."
"Her face is on your phone, Layla. At least learn to hide it!"
"It’s a small icon..." She tilted the phone away. "Fineee. I looked her up. Anyone can, so you can’t call it stalking. She studied Biology, you know, and she’s written a book about how the body and the mind work together."
"That’s where the health question came from, huh?"
Milo skimmed the screen in pursuit of information about Miss Cox and almost missed Layla drooling over her own words.
Eyebrow lifted, he took a step back.
"I’m just your readily available patient, aren’t I?"
"What are you talking about?"
"It was never about me, was it? You’re just obsessed with this topic."
"I only want to read her book."
"I can see it on you." He took another step back. "At this rate, I’m gonna be back in the armchair next week with you peering through my open skull, asking Miss Cox which bits were responsible."
"You could ask whether she’d lend me a copy!"
Their banter got no further.
By the time Layla reclaimed the space with two steps forward of her own, the last class had filed into the yard.
From the crowd, Grace raised a thumbs-up for Mr. Thwaite, who began his speech.
"Sorry for interrupting your lessons, though I have a feeling some of you are enjoying it."
Smirks spread through the rows, with a few students making a show of concealing it from their teachers.
"I’ll get right to the point." The man cleared his throat and brought the microphone closer to his mouth. "Warden Aldous Turned his last Calamity for us. The Church has told me that no one will be sent to replace him in the foreseeable future."
Immediately, the corners of those smirking mouths sank.
"Until another Warden comes, this parish has what our academies can provide. From today, Hollins Cross and Hallorch will combine their forces to defend it."
Mr. Thwaite planted his feet on the edge of the stage.
"Every student of both academies will attend three examinations. Studies, Survey, and Field will all be measured regardless of your track. Every student will be placed where they are the strongest. No one will be wasted."
Milo scanned the crowd as the students tensed up, Layla included, although to a lesser degree.
Upon checking his own shoulders, he found them hanging loosely.
"Studies will be a paper on the Calendar, on relics, on omens and on the parish itself. A Warden who can’t reach a Calamity can’t Turn it."
Finally, his shoulders climbed a little.
Send him after a Calamity on another line and he’d be squinting at a platform map while it demolished the destination. The cramped lettering was partly to blame; the rest was harder to defend, especially without a phone to do the looking for him.
Not all was lost, however. Taking every student will be placed where they are the strongest for granted, he might need to downplay his Studies ability just to get enrolled in Field.
He stretched his fingers out and slowed his mind, waiting to hear where the principal was going with this before he committed to anything.
"Survey will be held on the ground where Aldous made his last stand."
Milo’s shoulders hitched.
"Stop..." he muttered, closing a hand around his upper arm.
"You’ll find what his Turning left, read what the ground can tell you, and bring every omen to the Church’s scale. Afterwards those omens will be consecrated into the relics you carry out. That is his last gift to you."
So the stockpile was going back into the dirt. Aldous’ last rain would fall a second time.
Surely they wouldn’t put a class there while investigators were still searching for evidence. If the ground was fit for training, perhaps he could stop expecting a navy-blue coat at his doorstep.
"Field will test your body, your nerve with relics, and your judgment in a bout. Instructor Cald will also sign every medical, so do not be surprised when you’re called out from your lessons for about ten minutes."
Mr. Thwaite’s chin dipped.
"After the examinations, you will be assigned to groups for field expeditions. We have brought in instructors from some of Tollminster’s most prestigious academies to supervise you. They know the dangers you will be facing."
The tense atmosphere was swelling into anxiety, students shifting their weight from one foot to the other.
"With your parents’ consent, you may withdraw from the examinations and the expeditions."
That ought to unknot many of the students’ stomachs.
Plenty of parents would find a reason to keep their children out of the Field, leaving the expeditions to crazies like Maigh and, admittedly, Milo.
"However, that will result in immediate expulsion."
Gasps filled the yard.
Mr. Thwaite lifted his chin, raised an arm over the gathering...
"I will see to it that all students are able to provide peace to future generations."
...and kept his promise.
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