Lonethorn

A tide of people have poured out from the steel carriages of the locomotive. Harried mothers corralling their brood of children. Travelling business men in their sleek dark coats and canes in hand eager to get to the next appointment. All a myriad of people exiting the belly of the black beast that bore us. Veins of dark iron ran through hundreds of leagues and all convalesced here in the uplands of the Thornmont.

A city of opportunity, many had called it. There seems to be many that share that title. I could not say for certain that I myself am not ensnared by that promise. Lonethorn University was not just my main objective. With the advent of the railroads for the past few decades, it has transformed Thornmont into a sprawling state. Nestled amidst its neighboring countries, both burgeoning and ancient alike, it was a hotbed of investment opportunities and vital trade routes. Opportunities that could make or brake my aspirations in life. But, in that moment I found myself ensnared by the company of young miss Covington.

"It is no trivial matter, getting admitted into the university. And no small amount of money at that as well," Covington said, not dropping the matter. A steady tide of passengers have exited their cabins and disembarked the locomotive. An unspoken agreement to let it thin out before we made our own exit was settled between us in our own carriage.

"I thought it rude to discuss financial matters." I replied back. The young woman was clearly miffed at my admittance but continued to prod the subject with a nonchalant charm, passing it off as meandering conversation.

"Just curious good ser," she made a motion to inspect the fine threads of her gloved hand. Her governess wasn't looking nor interested at our conversation and looked rather exasperated. Governesses' are supposed to watch over their charge so that nothing untoward may occur. Her ward had been edgily dancing at the borders of what I thought to be protocol among the peerage.

"Where are you staying for the time being?"

"Why at the university of course! I already have a room and board in the university," or so it said in the letter. I wondered if old Saville kept to his word. The man had a tendency to be absentminded in certain details.

"May we accompany you then? We have a stagecoach waiting for us. Would that be allowed Aunt Ione?" Covington blurted rapidly that I was not able to reply immediately. To me, it seemed, that she had been dead-set in seeing me walk through the gates whether I have given my consent or not.

"We have no further appointments for the day, aside from luncheon with your father and that wouldn't be for another few hours. Stopping by the University shouldn't accost us much time, by my reckoning." The older woman said, who now that I have seen with the better light of day, was quite a handsome beauty.

"Splendid. What say you ser?" Covington had the gall to ask. I could feel the edges of my eyes twitching. If I say no she'd just implore further, it hadn't been an hour since I've met up with the personage of Electa Covington of the Drakenmoores' Covington , but I already have the sense of feeling that she's the type of woman that gets what she wants. One way or the other.

I sighed. "I wouldn't want to impose," I replied politely as I could. I felt anything but polite.

"Not at all, not at all! It has been some time after all since I've last visited the University. Maybe a quick stroll in the parade grounds or even say hello to some of the professors. Do you know of Professor Charmant? Dean of the Office of Eldrotology? My father is an ardent financier of his expeditions and studies...."Covington prattled on. From the corner of my eye I thought I saw her Aunt Ione roll her eyes as Electa name-dropped several more key figures of the Lonethorn Academia.

"Much thanks ,Miss Covington," I cut in. "But really, I wouldn't want to waylay you any further from your day."

"Did you plan on trekking it to the University gates Mister Serrano?" she asked. "It's quite a climb, I tell you. Being situated close to one of the Thorne Peaks and all. As well as a little out of ways from the city proper as well." She turned to cast a look at the domineering silhouettes of the peaks that surrounded the city of Thornmont. It was still early in the morn and the mist hadn't all that dissipated, especially to the higher elevations. The shadow of Lonethorn was unmistakable. Encrusted in soft mists, the silhouette of what could be Castle Thorne (or maybe was it the monastery? I had not been quite sure at the time) made for a picturesque image then and there.

"It may look like closer than you think but in reality it's much farther on foot, going uphill and all," Covington supplemented.

True, I admit, that it seemed closer and my plan was to hike it. It could save me a decent far and I did relish a good hike, a taste I acquired from my uncle.

I could not quite pinpoint the exact thought of reasoning. A part of me want to bullhead the idea of trekking, ignoring Covington's invitation to ride with her coach, out of sheer spite and pride. Another spoke fine reasoning to save the trouble of sweat and ache in my limbs as well as money. It did not hurt the fact that both Covington women, old and young, made for a fetching and alluring sight that I wouldn't mind cast glances along the journey. Or maybe it was that I had not yet taken a bite of my morning gorge?

Whatever the case, I stifled a sigh and relented to endure the prodding of Electa Covington atop Lonethorne University.

A small price to pay, I had hoped.