Probing Visions 1

Chapter 1 (Part 3)

     As Jean gazes at the picturesque landscape, a deep sense of peace flows over him, enveloping him in a comforting embrace. It feels as if he is lying in the soft embrace of his warm bed, on the cusp of drifting into a peaceful slumber. The gentle groaning of the carriage only enhances this sensation, serving as a lullaby that lulls him further into a state of serene calmness. All around him, stillness reigns, creating an atmosphere that soothes his soul.

     However, the tranquillity is abruptly shattered as the carriage continues forward. Without warning, its feeble right wheel collides with an unexpected rough rock, causing the rusty hinge to screech and split apart in protest. In a chaotic whirl of events, the wheel is forcefully expelled from the carriage, causing the vehicle to tilt to the side and crash with a resounding impact. The once serene carriage now emits a mournful echo, its structure teetering on the brink of capsizing, startling the passengers and the coachman with the sudden disruption.

"Woah!"

     Jean, Bertie, and George gasp in unison, their eyes widening in alarm. Instinctively, they cling to one another, desperately seeking support amidst the chaos. Their hands tighten their grip as they feel the carriage teetering precariously, their luggage slipping from their rightful places.

     The vehicle crashes to the ground with a sudden, jarring impact, creating an echoing thud. Startled, Jean, Bertie, and George let out involuntary yelps, their bodies instinctively bracing for the crash. Their eyes squeeze shut tightly, shielding them from the sight of the disaster.

"Ow..." Bertie groaned, rubbing his head in discomfort as he assessed the aftermath of the crash.

Jean, his voice filled with genuine concern, quickly spoke up. "You guys okay?" he asked, his worry written in his voice.

     Jean, Bertie, and George swiftly hopped out of the vehicle, leaping onto the street urgently. Panting for breath, they redirected their attention to the side, assessing the extent of the damage caused by the crash. As they walked around, their eyes caught sight of curious onlookers, men and women who had paused in their tracks to witness the fallen carriage. A crowd had formed, encircling the wreckage, their collective gaze fixated on the detached wheel, resembling a severed limb torn from a man's body.

"What happened...?" George wondered aloud, closely trailing behind his brothers.

"Wow... it seems like the wheel just flew off the carriage," Jean observed, his eyes darting between the detached wheel and the now-tilted carriage.

"Well, what do we do now? We'll be late!" Bertie exclaimed, expressing his concern about the situation.

The coachman swiftly disembarked from his seat, rushing over to the boys. "Are you boys alright?" he inquired in concern.

"We are," Jean replied politely.

"But how are we going to manage this?" George couldn't help but voice his worry.

"Well, it seems that the wheel needs to be repaired. But, reconnecting it to the carriage would take several hours," the coachman pointed out.

Jean turned to the side and faced Bertie. "Bertie? What time is it?" he questioned.

Bertie swiftly checked his pocket watch, his brows furrowing with concern. "It's almost seven," he replied.

Jean's heart sank as he processed the time. "...And we're still quite far from the university," he thought, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"Alright, boys, this is what we're going to do. You stay on the side, and I'll—" the coachman began, his hands resting on his hips as he pondered a solution.

"No need for that, Mr. Coachman. My brothers and I will walk to school," Jean interjected, with a confident smile spreading across his face.

"W-what? Walk to school...?" Bertie's brow furrowed in disbelief, his jaw hanging in surprise.

"You heard that right," Jean replied, turning to Bertie.

Bertie's face initially mirrored doubt and worry, his brows furrowing and his eyes widening. However, a sudden transformation overcame him, and a wide grin spread across his face as he leapt into the air. "Well then! Let's go!" he shouted as enthusiasm replaced his initial hesitation.

"Come on! Let's grab our bags!" George chimed in, sensing the urgency as he hurried towards the vehicle.

     Soon, weary by the burden of their luggage that pressed hardly against their backs and shoulders, Jean, Bertie, and George caught sight of a familiar building in the distance. They paused briefly, gasping for breath with loud, erratic pants as they bent down, hands on their knees. With hopeful smiles, they pressed onward and continued walking forward. As the boys drew closer to the structure ahead, their brisk pace gradually slowed.

     Finally, Jean, Bertie, and George reached their school. The building stretched across the horizon, almost dominating one's field of vision. Its bricked walls emanated an otherworldly glow, capturing the light like a ripe crimson apple. Tall windows dotted the facade, offering glimpses into the grand expanse of the interior.

     The school stood proudly, its height nearly reaching the clouds, causing one to tilt their head upward. Yet, no matter how far one craned their neck, the pinnacle of the building remained elusive. Stretching from west to east, the structure enveloped every nook and cranny with its majestic walls. Above, the slate tiles of the roof glistened like the deep, dark ocean under a setting sun, creating a striking contrast against the red facade.

     At the base of the school, a solid cement foundation provides an extra boost in height, elevating the grandeur of the structure. The entrance is marked by mighty steps leading up to a large, sturdy wooden door that stretches towards the lofty ceilings, beckoning visitors inside. Before reaching the entrance steps, one must traverse a lengthy trail connecting the building to tall iron gates serving as a protective barrier from the bustling streets. No one can even feel the fatigue after the long walk, as the vibrant surroundings of lush grass, trees, and neatly trimmed hedges offer a soothing balm. Adorning the top of the tall iron gates, concrete tiles proudly display the name of the school—Asbranne National Campus.

     Jean, Bertie, and George stand shoulder to shoulder, coming to a halt before one of the towering iron gates. Despite their foreheads glistening with sweat, they exchange triumphant grins, realizing they have reached the school just moments before the resounding chime of the gigantic golden bells in the clocktower. Pausing briefly to catch their breath, they wipe away the sweat from their brows with their wrists, ready to venture forward.

"Finally!" Bertie exclaimed.

"We're here," Jean announced.