Realm of the Exiled Chapter 11

Rongo had prepared himself for whatever type of roommate he would get. He was ready for a jerk, a messy one, even a party animal.

He wasn’t ready for how eccentric his roommate turned out to be.

Okay, Luke wasn’t that bad. He was smart, popular with everyone and friendly. Still, he was definitely eccentric. Though Rongo didn’t talk to him much despite being in the same class and sharing a room with him, Luke’s personality was written all over his side of the room.

One of the first things Luke did during the first week was to stack all his books into boxes and push them under his bed. Rongo only found out why later: he wanted to make room for his machines.

His shelves were absolutely devoid of any textbooks. They were covered with wires running up and down, blinking light bulbs, broken machine parts, hammers, an electrical saw, wrenches and sheets of metal. Rongo was careful not to touch anything after the time he got electrocuted simply by nudging what looked like a broken plug.

Luke’s desk was cluttered similarly – but whatever machines there were fixed and functional. Nails, vials of peculiar liquid and springs were everywhere. However, whatever Luke invented or fixed were all bizarre. Luke claimed that he had made a remote-controlled miniature tram. Rongo thought it was a metal cuboid on wheels that’s only job was to bump into walls.

His side table was littered with welding goggles, a strange clock, a misshapen scanner and a pile of papers. There was an unwritten rule between them: no touching the papers if Rongo valued his hands. Luke was extremely protective of the papers and scanner. He even set up a trap for anyone who dared to touch it. 

 

 

The window and wardrobe were plastered with blueprints, diagrams and sketches. He had even set up his own computer at his desk, complete with projected screen.

Luke had turned his side of the room into his very own personal workshop.

I’m surprised he didn’t set up a forge there.

Luke’s Rewlian was an excitable thing, always yapping and growling at something-or-other. It ate like mad too – it went through about five bones, two pounds of meat and a bunch of snacks in just one day. If it made a big mess on the floor, Luke would lazily send one of his robots to clean. Which was often. It had also developed some dislike of Rongo, forever avoiding him.

While Rongo spent nearly all his time in the room. Luke rarely came in, entering only at night. If he did, it was probably just to grab his homework to take to the library where he would be hanging out with his friends. Sometimes he didn’t come in at all, meaning he had gotten detention.

After dinner, he’d walk off to somewhere. Rongo wondered where he went – his friends didn’t seem to know either. Luke would only go to the dorm room late after, never saying where he went.

At night was when Luke was at his most eccentric. He’d stay up late working on some big project, hammering and building; Rongo discovered he could ignore the whirring noises by burrowing his head into his pillow. The next morning he would find an automaton moving around, clicking and buzzing.

But the craziest part? 

That began on the second week.

It went on throughout the third and fourth week too.

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Rongo pulled his pillow over his head, effectively covering his ears. Luke was still awake, judging by the sounds coming from the other side. He was too sleepy to care though. 

He vaguely heard the noises dying away. He turned over, wondering why he was suddenly dreading the moment Luke fell asleep. He decided to forget that and fall asleep himself. His eyes closed.

“It’s been the third one this week.”

That voice. Rongo slowly opened his eyes again, blinking. Surely, it must be the middle of the night. Who was talking?

“I’m not sure they will believe it with this many students vanishing.”

He was fully awake now. Frowning, he pushed off his pillow and threw off the covers, sitting up. He was about to turn on the lights when he realized where the voice was coming from.

Not again.

“What other choice do we have? You know what the Council will do.”

Rongo snatched up his flashlight. He had scavenged it from a dump a long time ago, but thankfully it was still working. Switching it on, he directed the light at the other side of the room.

“Certainly it is safer that we send everyone home?”

He watched, petrified. The voice differed each time, like multiple people were having a conversation. But it couldn’t be…

“The untrained ones are a danger.”

Luke was asleep, flopped down on his bed. His mouth was moving slightly, muttering the whole conversation. He shifted slightly, but kept talking. The voices changed each time, sometimes deep and smooth, sometimes nervous and stammering.

But was it sleep, if he was channeling the voices?

“They are in danger if they stay. Greater danger, I should say.”

For almost two weeks, Luke had been talking like this. Rongo would be woken up, terrified. Several nights Luke would be yelling, shouting about ‘wronged pasts’, ‘final revenge’ and ‘your end is our beginning’. Other times it would be cackling and screaming, or frightened conversations like now. 

The scariest part?

Luke didn’t even know what he was doing. He was unconscious the whole time. As if he was possessed.

“How do you know that?”

Finally, Rongo couldn’t stand it anymore. He was going to wake Luke up. If there really was something wrong with Luke, at least I will find out. Then why was he still scared? He could pull off heists, thievery and even kidnapping without breaking a sweat. Wake up a talking roommate? Here comes the terrified little boy who wanted to run away.

Luke made up his mind for him.

“STOP THEM!”

The bellow was so loud and sudden that Luke woke himself up. Startled, Rongo dropped his flashlight. Instinct was telling him to hide. He ignored it and picked up the flashlight. He couldn’t quite stop himself from trembling though.

Groggily, Luke pushed off his blanket to the floor, sitting up, his hair sticking up like he had stuck his finger into a socket (but knowing Luke, he might have done that). He rubbed sleep out of his eyes. 

He didn’t ask what happened. Nor did he ask why Rongo was awake at midnight. No, he asked, “Why is there a spotlight shining at my face?”

Rongo lowered his flashlight. “It’s a flashlight.”

“I hope you’re not using mine,” was the vague reply.

Clearly, Luke wasn’t thinking straight, mind fogged by drowsiness.

“No, I’m not,” He said, thinking it best to humour him.

“Who was yelling?” Luke asked, yawning. “’sounded like…mop phlegm? Was somebody sneezing?”

“No, you were yelling,” Rongo corrected, deciding to come clean. “You were talking, channeling an entire conversation in your sleep. Then, you shouted ‘stop them’.”

He expected Luke to give some hazy answer, or a weird statement like ‘I was talking to my pet’. However, Luke looked amazed, not to mention a little fearful. 

“I-I was?” 

“This has been happening for weeks,” Rongo admitted.

Luke forced a smile. “Guess I’ve been having nightmares.”

Rongo wasn’t fooled. Growing up at the Other Side, he had gotten good at detecting when people were lying. Not that it was very hard – Luke was a terrible liar.

“Maybe we should tell a professor,” he suggested.

“I don’t think so,” Luke said flatly. “I think I’m stressed, which is why this is happening. It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“Do me a favour,” Luke insisted. “And don’t say anything about it.”

“Someone should know.”

“If you tell,” Luke began menacingly as possible, which was easy when one has a rat nest for hair and oil smudges that amplify the mad scientist look. “I swear, I will not rest until I create an automaton that will copy everything you do and say, annoying you for life. Believe me, its irritating.”

With that threatening threat, he promptly fell back asleep.

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Renee had been doing a lot of spy work during the third and fourth week of training, in between homework and practice.

Why? Simple.

One, Zeke had been acting funky. Two, Luke’s left eye kept twitching and he was behaving suspiciously. Three, Farionze was forever staring into space.

Which meant Velias, Jynhue and her were confused by this.

So, the three of them formed a conspiracy to find out what was going on. Velias agreed to tackle his childhood friend, Jynhue consented to talk with her mute pal and Renee took up the challenge of figuring her old classmate out.

Sounds fun, right?

Unfortunately, after more than a week, they came up with nothing.

All Velias found out was that Luke was sleeping in class, something he never did before, he claimed. But that wasn’t much.

Jynhue, despite her best efforts, only discovered that Farionze had started reading her grandfather’s journals. It sounded so innocent, but surely there was a reason for that.

Renee talked to Zeke’s sisters, but to no avail. She also had somehow convinced herself to sneak into his room after persuading his roommate Joshua for a key, pretending Zeke had asked her to get something. There was nothing there.

Curiosity was killing Renee, and she was going to do anything and everything to find out.

Even if I have to stalk them.

Which was what she was currently planning to do on this fine Wednesday afternoon.

Arithmetic was a tough class, but Renee had no difficulty with it. Before coming to the training base, she had studied up every possible language and lesson, wanting to score well. With one hand, she scribbled down the worksheet’s answers. 

The rest of her hands were equally busy as well. One was holding up the textbook where she referenced some answers. Another was secretly opening a bag of chips (I’ll be skipping dinner if I’m stalking them, after all). The last was concealing a tiny hand mirror, which she was using to spy on a dazed-looking Farionze.

It’s a pity I only can focus on one thing at a time. Though I have four hands, I can’t split my focus.

She dipped her quill into the inkpot, then scrawled the last question’s answer. Flipping the paper over, she quickly stuffed a chip in her mouth, careful not to let the watchful eye of Professor Pirelou to see her. 

The professor in question was strict as ever, but was more distracted than usual. The last time, she didn’t notice when she left Luke asleep in the Library. How do you not notice that?

Still, Renee decided the reason for that was because of her class’s terrible grades and behavior. The latter could mostly be blamed on her son, Julian. He attempted to cause trouble at every chance.

She would admit as well that Luke and Velias had a hand in the discipline cases Professor Pirelou was handling. One of them was bad enough, but when together it was Armageddon. Especially the time they built the stupid MirrorBot.

Other trouble-making students included Echalo Freru, an impetous boy who acted like he was better than you; Nicole Grace, a punk-style girl who occasionally blasted too loud music on her IPod; Tsuki Jiloneg, the rebellious spitfire.

She glanced at the mirror in her hand. Farionze’s hand holding her quill hovered above the paper. She stared at something in front, but Renee could see nothing. Farionze’s acting like my Dad before having his morning coffee.

Stuffing another chip in her mouth, she looked at Luke, trying not to seem like she was copying answers. Professor Pirelou was walking around the front row, reprimanding Julian.

Luke had obviously finished his paper (I doubt he actually bothered to do it properly). He was fiddling with something under his desk, something with wires poking out. Several times sparks of electricity produced by him flew up. Renee was always careful when touching him – static electricity was a friend of his.

Something was off about him, and it wasn’t just the fact he was obsessed with his machines more than usual. He looked more tired. He would startle when some teachers talked. He would scan the canteen, as if looking for someone.

The school bell rang.

“Papers please,” Professor Pirelou called out. She tapped the Disappearing Device, as Renee liked to call it, and all the papers vanished. “You may leave now.”

In a flash, everyone had grabbed their things and were clamoring to the door, eager to enjoy the rest of the day. Renee, having two more hands, was quicker to collect her books. She bolted to the door and ran out.

The hallway was crowding with students coming out. She squeezed herself – which was difficult with broader shoulders than the average person – past the throngs. At the end of the hallway was a corner that had a broom closet. To exit, Luke would have to pass it. 

And that’s where I will wait.

She moved as fast as she could, determined to get there before Luke. Thankfully, when you have four arms, people tend to get out of the way so they could stare. For the first time, Renee ignored them and darted to the end of the hallway.

She saw Kesmarane, Nicole and Tsuki pass by, chatting. She ducked behind them and slipped into the closet. Shutting the door, she sighed in relief, despite the cramped space she was in and the smell of filthy brooms.

She pushed open the door a crack. She saw weird assortment of students, but she hadn’t seen the tall, loping figure of Luke. Worrying that he had already passed, she bit her lip.

There.

Renee saw him, hunched over, hands turning screws, satchel bursting with pistons and other bits and bobs. He was walking alone. Where was Velias?

Badie and Mackenzie passed by, momentarily blocking her view. Impatiently, she waited for them to walk away and walked out of the closet. Flipping her braids over her shoulder, she darted after Luke, not wanting to miss him.

She followed him down hallways and corridors. He hadn’t looked up from his machine, but he seemed to know where he was going. It was only after he walked to tower’s entrance did she realize his destination. 

He’s heading to the dorms.

He started climbing the stairs, not once looking up. Renee, on her shorter legs, huffed as she climbed after him. He didn’t notice her, which was good. The silence gave her time to think.

It wasn’t unusual for students to go to their dorms after classes. But Luke wasn’t one to do that; he preferred the Tech classroom or hanging out with their friend group on campus.

So where was he going?

Finally, Luke came to a stop. Five doors were on the level he stopped at. Chucking the machine into his satchel, he strolled over to Room 21 and flashed his armband. The door clicked open.

This puzzled Renee immensely. The students’ armband was programmed to only open their room doors, so how did Luke get into this room? Last time I checked, his room was 12.

She crept closer. The door was closed, but she had anticipated this. She pulled an empty mug from her bad and pressed it to the door. It was a trick she pulled off at home when wanting to eavesdrop on conversations.

“-you’re late today,” a dry voice quipped.

“Not my fault, blame Pirelou,” Luke’s voice joked back.

There was a scrape of chairs. Typing noises echoed loudly.

“I’ve worked it out,” the other voice said. Luke grunted. “We should have encrypted it with instructions to see, not collect evidence like the idiot you are said. The algorithm…”

Renee pulled away, disappointed. It made sense now.

Apparently, Luke and the other person were coding some machine, which explained why he was coming here. By the sound of it, it was definitely an older girl.

But she felt that there was more to the story.

Sighing, she began to climb downstairs to go to her room. Passing by another level, she wouldn’t have paid attention if she hadn’t heard the name ‘Patricia’.

That got her attention. If she couldn’t solve Luke’s mystery, she could at least solve Zeke’s. 

She rushed to Room 19. The door was slightly ajar; she spotted Zeke and his sisters sitting inside. Patricia looked skeptical, Beatrice concerned. Zeke seemed to be explaining something.

“Then, there was this loud bang. Brenda legitimately punched the door and left a dent! She started screaming, cackling,” he told his sisters in a panicked sort of voice. “Honest!”

“Zeke,” Patricia said firmly. “I have told you, Brenda went home because she fell sick. You can ask her sister, Nicole. She can’t be in that room. If, and I’m still not convinced here, there really was something like you said in the room, it must be someone else.”

“But it was Brenda! I swear!” 

“Zeke,” Beatrice said gently. “Brenda went home. If they are keeping someone in that room, it was someone else. Even if they did, why would they put anyone there?”

Zeke took a deep breath. “I’m telling you, they put her in there because she lost her mind! What sort of sane person would do that, cackling, screeching and howling?”

Patricia pinched the bridge of her nose like she was having a headache. “Zeke, be reasonable. No one could be in there. Brenda was sent home. Maybe your trauma is just making you imagine.”

“You could go home, go back to Mom,” Brenda offered. “I think Pat’s correct – your trauma is affecting you. Maybe your therapist could help. You obviously aren’t okay.”

“Why won’t you believe me?” Zeke pleaded. “It’s not the trauma!”

“Zeke, I- who’s there?” Patricia said sharply. With her super speed, she dashed over and flung open the door, revealing a flushed Renee, who waved nervously.

“Hi,” She stammered. “I was just going to my room.”

Patricia pursed her lips, face darkening. Behind her, Beatrice was in the act of looking for something. Zeke sat there, lost, desperation for his sisters to believe him on his face.

“Go,” Patricia ordered. Her tone was commanding, yet not angry. Renee could see why she was chosen for sports captain. “You better hope you didn’t hear anything.”

Renee did the logical thing. She turned heel and fled.

She thundered down the stairs and raced into her room. Slamming the door shut, she sat down at her desk, thanking her stars her roommate Avalina was out.

She yanked open the drawer, pulling out a large board, decorated with sticky notes, drawings and thread connecting everything. It was the homemade investigation board she created.

For the rest of the day, she stayed in her room. She removed sticky notes and added new ones, sketched some diagrams, strung up some more thread. She skipped dinner, eating leftovers from lunch in her room.

That was how important the investigation was for her.

She may have somewhat solved Luke’s mystery, but Zeke’s just got bigger.

She was going to find an answer, even if it meant delaying and missing the Tech essay she was supposed to write, the Chemistry textbook pages she was supposed to read, the Mythology project and Astronomy map.

Who cares about my to-do list anyway?