Noah had always been curious about the strange black device that John often used. He would watch with wide eyes as John picked up the metallic object, pressed a few buttons, and then somehow began talking to someone who wasn't even there.
It was almost magical to Noah, incomprehensible yet oddly intriguing.
Was there a tiny person inside? Was that who his uncle was speaking to?
Bell had laughed when he first asked, ruffling his hair fondly. "No, silly," she had said. "That's a telephone. It lets you talk to someone far away."
"Anyone?" Noah's bright eyes gleamed with curiosity.
Bell nodded. "As long as you know their number, yes. You can talk to them just like they're standing right next to you."
Noah's eyes widened.
"Can I… call Brother Lucien too?"
The idea excited him, but almost immediately, his excitement wavered into hesitation. He lowered his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. "But… what if he gets mad at me?"
Bell smiled and knelt beside him, brushing a few strands of hair away from his face. "Master Lucien wouldn't be mad. I'm sure he'd be happy to hear from you."
Noah wasn't sure if he believed her, but the thought of speaking to Lucien made his heart race with anticipation.
When Bell informed John of Noah's wishes, he readily provided the academy's number on a piece of parchment paper.
Noah swallowed. The paper felt oddly heavy in his hands.
Bell gave him an encouraging smile. "Go on," she said, nudging him toward the telephone.
Noah hesitated for a moment longer before gathering his courage. Slowly, he reached out and lifted the receiver, his small fingers trembling as he carefully pressed the cold buttons one by one.
The dial tone rang in his ears, his heart pounding with each passing second.
Then, there was a soft click.
"Hello."
For a moment, Noah sat frozen, clutching the receiver in both hands as if it were his lifeline.
He turned to Bell, whispering as if Lucien wouldn't hear him through the line. " I can hear him! I can really hear him!"
Bell chuckled and gestured for him to speak.
Noah swallowed and clutched the receiver tighter. "H-Hello?" he stammered.
There was a pause on the other end. Then, Lucien's voice came again, calm and steady.
"Noah?"
Hearing his name sent a flutter through Noah's chest. He nodded eagerly before realizing Lucien couldn't see him. "Yes!"
That simple acknowledgment sent a wave of joy through him. His initial fear melted away, replaced by the thrill of this newfound connection.
Their conversation started off a little awkward, mostly because Noah didn't know what to say. But as time passed, the conversation began to flow more naturally. He spoke about little things, like the way the sky looked that day, what he ate for lunch, and how Uncle John scolded him for sneaking sweets before dinner.
Lucien listened patiently, responding when necessary and letting the boy's enthusiasm set the pace of the conversation. He wasn't one for idle chatter, but something about Noah's genuine excitement made it easier to stay on the line longer than he normally would have.
Maybe it was because he had come to rely on the book to predict unexpected events. This was a moment that hadn't been pre-written, something unplanned catching him a little off guard.
Eventually, their conversation came to an end.
"Goodbye, Brother Lucien!" Noah chirped happily.
Lucien paused for a brief second before replying, his voice as steady as ever. "Goodbye."
Beep.
The line went dead.
Lucien stood still for a moment before silently placing the receiver back down. He slowly stepped away from the telephone and walked out of the call room.
Around him, the academy buzzed with life as students chatted and moved through the halls. But Lucien, as always, remained detached from it all.
Meanwhile, back at the manor, Noah turned to Bell, his face lighting up with joy. "I really talked to him!" he exclaimed, practically bouncing on his feet.
Bell smiled warmly. "See? I told you he wouldn't be mad."
Noah nodded, still basking in the lingering excitement of the call. He had been so nervous that Lucien would be angry, but he had spoken to him so kindly.
His heart felt lighter as he went about his day, the memory of their conversation fresh in his mind. Soon, his tutor arrived, and he sat down for his lessons with renewed determination.
After all, if he studied hard enough, maybe one day… he could go to the academy too.
- - - - - -
The student council room was filled with the murmur of voices, the long wooden table cluttered with stacks of papers, blueprints, and unfinished proposals. The scent of ink and freshly brewed tea lingered in the air as the committee members gathered for yet another meeting.
For the past few days, endless discussions for the academy's 25th Silver Jubilee celebration had consumed their time. Every detail had to be planned meticulously, from the performances and food to the décor and honorary gifts.
Lucien sat at his usual seat, his posture effortlessly refined, and his pen gliding across the parchment with unwavering precision. The chaotic noise around him was nothing more than background hum. His expression remained calm and serene, his gaze flickering only briefly toward the discussion before returning to his notes.
At the head of the table sat Gareth Allister, a broad-shouldered sixth-year student and the council president. His presence dominated the room, not only because of his size but also because of his overbearing attitude. He had been steamrolling the discussion for the past hour, dismissing every idea that didn't align with his vision.
"As I was saying, the event should be an extravagant banquet with high-profile guests," Gareth declared, leaning back in his chair. "We must uphold the school's reputation. A formal setting, a full orchestra, and perhaps even a gold-embossed invitation for distinguished alumni."
A second-year committee member hesitantly spoke up, "But wouldn't it be better to have something that involves all students? Not just the elite?"
Gareth scoffed. "That's nonsense. This isn't a commoners' gathering. We need prestige, not a cheap circus ."
A ripple of discontent spread through the committee.
"He's impossible," a student muttered under his breath.
Meanwhile, a group of girls sitting near Lucien seemed more preoccupied with admiring him than the discussion itself.
"He's so graceful even when he's just writing," one of them whispered, nudging her friend.
"His handwriting is as beautiful as he is," another giggled, eyes fixed on him.
Lucien, as always, remained unfazed, his eyes scanning his notes without reacting to the attention.
Gareth, however, was not as oblivious. Their whispers and giggles didn't escape his notice. He shot a sharp glare at the girls before loudly clearing his throat.
"Ahem."
The girls instantly straightened up, realizing the pointed look was directed at them. Embarrassed, they hushed themselves and lowered their gazes.
Finally, Lucien lifted his gaze and spoke. His voice, though calm, commanded attention.
"A more balanced approach would be preferable," he began. "I propose we divide the event into three main parts," he explained, his tone leaving little room for argument.
"I suggest we divide the celebration into three main events," he said, setting his pen down. "First, a formal banquet in the main hall, where we can invite distinguished guests, including alumni. Second, a campus festival open to all students, featuring performances and cultural booths to highlight our school's diversity. And third, a closing gala, where awards will be distributed, along with a special musical piece performed by an orchestra."
The room fell silent for a moment as the council members absorbed his words.
Even those who hadn't spoken before nodded in agreement, finally an event that everyone could enjoy.
"That sounds like a good balance," one student murmured.
"Yeah, this actually makes sense."
But Gareth wasn't having it. He scoffed and immediately waved a dismissive hand.
"A festival? That's ridiculous. We don't need a circus. A formal banquet is more than enough."
A murmur of discontent spread through the room.
"You're rejecting his idea just because it wasn't yours," a fourth-year muttered.
"All you ever suggest is a banquet."
"Seriously, Gareth? You never listen to anyone else."
The discontent quickly turned into open complaints, with multiple committee members speaking up.
"Honestly, all your ideas are just for showing off to the elite."
"Exactly. We're supposed to plan for the entire student body, not just the ones you think are important."
Gareth's face darkened. He opened his mouth, as if about to argue back, but the sheer number of students opposing him clearly hit a nerve. With a frustrated growl, he slammed his hand down on the desk, causing some students to flinch.
"If you all think you're so smart, then handle it yourselves!" he snapped before storming out of the room, his heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor.
A moment of silence followed his dramatic exit.
A few students sighed in relief.
"Finally, he's gone."
"Good riddance."
"Took him long enough to leave."
Lucien, unfazed, calmly gathered his papers and stood. "We'll move forward with the planning tomorrow," he said simply.
With Gareth gone, the tension in the room eased. The students nodded in relief and started packing their belongings, their chatter subdued but lighter. A cool breeze drifted in through the window, rustling the edge of Lucien's notes. The golden afternoon light cast soft shadows, adding to the newfound calm.
Lucien remained still for a moment, his expression indiscernible, before adjusting his cuffs and turning toward the door. As he stepped into the hallway, the distant clatter of students filled the air, further blending with the ongoing buzz of the academy.