Juryokine

Chapter Twenty Five

"What is a dream?" Professor Navras asked. He stood looking at the clock at the front of the workshop, and with a dramatic sweep of his black robe he turned to face his class. "Are they merely visions from our unconscious mind when we sleep?"

"No, Professor," the class said together. Most of them had heard this speech before, but Navras repeated it for the sake of a new student who had begun the class only that morning. Toke looked at him from his spot. The young man, only a day past sixteen, was watching Navras with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. Toke understood that look only too well. Everyone here was sitting in the presence of a legend, the father of the age they lived in. How did one behave in his classroom? What did one expect from Professor Navras? It reminded Toke of his own first day of class, when he'd been so intimidated he hadn't even been able to hold a screwdriver. Luckily, the Professor's kindness had soothed his fears before long, and he had begun work on his battery— the next natural step in Dranibor Navras' legacy. Toke was confident that the new student would come around before too long as well.

"A dream is a puzzle," Navras continued. "It begins as a vision, and we must find the way to bring it forth from our own minds and into the real world. That is the goal for artists, for authors, and, most of all, for inventors. For we do not simply put paint on a canvas, or write words on a page. We create objects that can be used for more than mere entertainment. Our goal is not just to bring reality to our own fantasies, but to make them everyone else's reality as well."

With that, the bell rang, and the class began to disperse. The new student stayed where he was until the rest of the students had already left, leaving only him, Toke, and Professor Navras in the room. The poor kid looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

"You may go now, Mr. Stetchil," Navras said, sitting down behind his desk. "I would like to have an essay detailing whatever invention ideas you might have by tomorrow morning."

"Y- yes, sir," the new students said, and pried himself off of his stool. With a sigh, Toke got up as well and placed his battery back into his locker.

"Toke," Navras said, stopping him as he headed for the door. "I would like to speak with you later about... certain matters."

A shiver ran down Toke's spine. "Yes, sir," he said, knowing without having to ask which "certain matters" the professor was referring to. When Navras didn't say anything else, Toke left the room, and found the new student, Stetchil, talking to Virkhul.

"— failure written all over your face," the secretary was saying. "Should I go ahead and fill out a withdrawal sheet for you?"

Stetchil was looking at Virkhul with a ghostly pale face.

"Don't pay attention to him," Toke interrupted. "He's just a bully."

Virkhul gave him a venomous glare, and Stetchil glanced at him, gave a quick nod of thanks, and then hurried away.

"A regular Sorakine in white, aren't you?" Virkhul sneered, and then withdrew a folded up piece of paper from his desk drawer. "This came while you were in class. Mommy and Daddy dearest are coming for a visit today." He held out the letter with a smug smirk on his face. "Isn't that nice?"

"You read my mail?" Toke exclaimed, snatching the paper from Virkhul's fingers. "I can get you in trouble for that, you know."

"I am the professor's loyal secretary," he replied, putting on an innocent look. "Everything I do is for his—"

"Whatever," Toke grumbled, walking away. "I hope you get fired."

As he walked, Toke unfolded the letter.