Humayre: The Chronicles of Ronin Wilder

“This just gets weirder and weirder,” said Mike. He folded his thick arms and stared at the horse drawn carriages lined up before them.

Ronin agreed, but was too confused to say anything. The carriages were like nothing he had ever seen. They were made of what appeared to be some kind of metal, and were modern in their design. They looked like long boxy silver cars with four huge spoked metal wheels. There were ten carriages in all and each was pulled by four horses. He glanced around at the other kids, they all had the same dumbstruck look on their faces.

“Are we supposed to get in those?” some kid asked.

No one answered.

The door behind Ronin opened and more kids spilled out into the crisp air. Their reactions were all the same, shocked silence. White breath billowed from Ronin’s mouth as he exhaled. He rubbed his hands together but jerked them apart when his fingernails reminded him of why he shouldn’t do that. The scent of pine needles stung his nose with a crisp pleasant smell. He looked around to see if Mr. Wall had come out yet, but he was nowhere to be found. The cold numbed his knuckles. His fingernails throbbed. As strange as it all was he didn’t care, he wanted to get in a carriage as soon as possible before he froze to death.

Murmurs of discontent sounded through the horde of kids as it grew larger and larger. They were all packed together so closely Ronin could barely move in any direction. If something didn’t happen soon he was going to be squished. The sound of wood-soled shoes clacking against concrete echoed from the side of the white building. Men in black suits appeared from around the corner. Each stopped in front of a carriage. They all held a sheet of paper. Mr. Wall was the last to arrive. He stood before the gathering of kids.

“All eyes on me,” said Mr. Wall, his face expressionless. “You have all been assigned to a carriage. We will be loading carriages one at a time starting at the carriage closest to the gate on my right.” He held his right arm out and pointed to the gate. “When your name is called go to your carriage and get in. The quicker you do this, the quicker we can get out of the cold.” He made eye contact with the man to his right. “You may proceed.”

“Mike O’Hare, Ronin Wilder, Bobby Milles, Rob Milles, Sarah Mann, Jessica Talbot,” said the man standing by the carriage closest to the gate. He caught his breath. “And last but not least Kevin Robinson.” He folded the paper and put it in his jacket pocket. “Watch the center of the carriage, people. The little thing that looks like a box gets very hot. ”

Ronin didn’t waste a second. He weaved through the crowd with Mike following close behind. He hopped into the carriage. The little box in the middle of the floor looked to be some kind of cover for something. Ronin could feel heat emanating from it. Framing the strange little box were tufted velvet carriage seats. They were a dark burgundy and long enough to seat four or five kids. Hanging on hooks in the back of the carriage were seven black trench coats. Each one had a white note pinned to its collar with a name written on it. And maybe the strangest thing of all were the four glowing stone like things set deep into each wall. They gave off just enough light to illuminate the small cabin.

As Mike got in into the carriage he accidentally bumped Ronin causing him to fall into the far seat. Ronin stuck his arms out as he went head first into the soft velvet. He’s hand slid forward and went between the cushions. Something poked the webbing of his thumb and forefinger. He felt around. The movement sent quick flashes of pain through his fingertips. He winced as he pulled a small folded piece of paper from between the cushions.

“Oops, Sorry,” said Mike. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” said Ronin. He was only half listening. He was too intrigued by the strange paper in his hand. A red wax seal held the folded letter together. The seal was stamped with two swords crossing. He rubbed his taped thumb over the seal and it separated. Someone must’ve already opened it. He unfolded the paper. It was a short letter, only two lines. There were no letters, just symbols. Sort of like the ones on the test he took earlier.

“Woah,” said Mike. “Check this out.” He was holding the black metal cover in his hand and looking down. Orange coals glowed at the bottom of the box set into the floor of the carriage.

“It’s called a hearth,” said Kevin as he squeezed past Mike. He took a seat next to Ronin. “Put the cover back on before it gets too hot in here.”

“Don’t act like you’ve seen anything like this before,” said Mike. He shook his head and pretended to throw the hearth cover at Kevin. Kevin flinched, which drew a smile from Mike. He put the cover back over the hearth.

Kevin rolled his eyes.

The hanging jackets caught Ronin’s attention once more. He grabbed the one with his name on it. The material was heavy, it felt well made. On the left breast of the jacket was a yellow stitched BW.

“Do you think these are why they took our measurements?” asked Ronin, as he stuffed the letter in his pocket for later examination.

“No way anyone can tailor a coat that fast,” said Mike, his eyebrow raised in doubt. “Right?” He leaned over and grabbed his coat from the hanger. “I don’t know. This whole deal is strange. Next they’re going to tell us that aliens stole all the limos. That’s why we have to ride in these things.” He laughed as he turned the coat inside out. He searched around the collar. “I don’t see any tags or anything that says a size.” He put the coat on. “It fits perfect.” He moved his arms around and shifted about. “Wow. This thing is really nice. It must’ve cost a ton.” He smiled. “I like BrightWood’s style.”

Something about the letter itched the back of Ronin’s mind. He pulled it out of his pocket and stared at the seal. The crossing swords, he swore he had seen them before. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it though. They were so familiar, almost comfortable. He stared hard trying to awaken a memory. It was right there on the edge of his thoughts.

“I just got your lab results,” said Dr. Storm, peeking in through the carriage doorway. His eyes were locked onto Ronin’s. “Very interesting stuff.”

Everyone’s attention was jerked to the entrance.

Dr. Storm smacked the floor of the carriage three times. “You know what a unicorn is right?”

Ronin knew the question was directed at him but he couldn’t answer. The oddity of it all stunned him. His mind was a total blank.

“A mythical beast once thought to really exist. So rare that it only lived in myth even though the world believed in far more supernatural things,” said Dr. Storm, his eyes still set on Ronin. They were piercing, unflinching, unblinking. “See, to me the unicorn is unique, the idea of it means there can only be one. Because, after all, all it really is, is an idea.” He paused. His eyes looked straight through Ronin. The seconds rolled on. The carriage was silent. Abruptly he broke the silence. “It would be a true shame if you got yourself killed. Try not to do it.” As quickly as he appeared, he disappeared.

All the kids looked around at each other. They all seemed to be waiting for someone to break the silence.

“That guy is crazy. No ifs, ands, or buts about it,” said Mike. “Unicorn? Are you kidding me? Don’t get yourself killed?” He looked to Ronin like he should have some answers. “What was the nut talking about?”

“How should I know? You saw the guy. I told you there was something wrong with him.” He stuffed the note back in his pocket. His eyes widened and the color drained from his cheeks. “He said he got my lab results back. And that it was interesting.” He shifted in his seat and rubbed his hands together. His fingernails were numbed by anxiety. “Oh crap. What do you think that means? What if I’m sick or something?”

“Relax,” said Kevin. “That guy was Dr. Storm, he owns this whole deal, the school, that weird building, probably even the plane.” He grabbed his coat from the hanger and inspected it. “You think if you had some kind of disease he would just let you into his school without divulging it to you?” He slid the coat on. “Wow. This is really nice.”

“How do you know who that is?” asked Mike. “And why didn’t you say anything back in the car when the guy was driving us around like he was a chauffeur or something?”

“I was asleep.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “My eyes closed and my snoring didn’t cue that off for you?”

“How do you know he owns all of this?” interrupted Ronin.

“Wow. You guys obviously don’t watch the news, or read the papers,” said Kevin. “He’s one of the richest men in the world.” He paused. “No? Still nothing? You guys know how to read right? There are signs all over this place that say Storm Biotech.”

“Bro. You’re really starting to get on my nerves.” Mike’s pasty complexion turned red.

“Whatever,” said Kevin. “You figure it out then.”

“Try not to die?” asked Ronin. “What did he mean by that? This is a school we’re going to right? Try not to die? What’s going to kill me at a school?”

Kevin must have sensed Ronin’s panic because he took a less sarcastic tone. “First of all, he said don’t get yourself killed. That’s just another way of saying be careful. At least for someone who’s as eccentric as he is. Seriously. I’ve read interviews on him. He’s always saying crazy stuff like that. He’s famous for it. They say he’s one of the most brilliant minds in the world. Einstein-like intelligence. Guys that smart usually have something off about them. I’m sure it’s nothing. Just relax.”

The calmness and confidence in Kevin’s voice helped to ease Ronin’s fears. His heartbeat slowed and the buzzing sensation in his ears dissipated. Thought flowed back into his mind rather than blank panic. The crossing swords came back to him. But the vision wasn’t of the seal, it was something else, a medallion or some sort of jewelry. Just as he thought he might place it in his mind, a memory of his mother and father pushed everything else out. It was a good memory. One he’d thought he’d lost. It was warm, and happy, and safe. It was of them decorating their Christmas tree. The last Christmas they had together before the car crash.