Canaan Club - 22. Chapter 22

Despite a tumultuous first day, the rest of the week seemed to pass by seamlessly – or rather, as much as it could. In Andre’s mind, the last class of the day with Miss Hallsworth made the week slog by quite a bit. He was all too happy that it was Friday.

“Oh, man,” the omé let himself fall back on his bed, blowing out an exhausted breath. “I don’t think I can take another day of that class. I can’t keep walking around without being able to feel my limbs.”

Rafe chuckled as he headed over to his own, taking off his sweat-drenched shirt. “Your muscles are tearing themselves apart right now, but by the end of the weekend, you’ll wake up feeling like a whole new man. Trust me on that, dude.”

“Of course, you’d say that. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. Heading to the gym after a class with Miss Hallsworth? I think we need to take you to a psychiatrist soon because that is crazy.”

Although Andre couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over his best friend’s body, his stomach stirring with something funny. The blond didn’t seem like much with all the flannel he loved to wear, but all that battle training from a young age, gym workouts five days a week, and his superhuman genes gave him a body that might’ve been even more powerfully built than Joe.

Werewolves, particularly higher-ranking ones, could grow muscles without having to do much. If Rafe had been born a wolf instead, he would have been mistaken for someone older.

“But it is helping,” the blond’s response snapped Andre out of his reverie. “My strength, instincts, and everything else is improving. I can feel it.”

“Well, it’s putting you in a good mood, so I definitely won’t object,” Andre laughed before sobering up into seriousness. “Just don’t overdo it, okay? Just because your super doesn’t mean you can’t make a mistake that’ll get you hurt. All those training sessions with robots come to mind.”

“Then you’ll be the one that has to save me all the time,” Rafe playfully rolled his eyes. “God forbid that.”

He got a pillow chucked at him.

-POI-

“Cain should have a handle over them by now,” Lindsay stated as she and her friends sat with the four first-years for the evening’s dinner in a food court near the Eve Society, which meant that there was a majority of upperclassmen. “I had to needle him on that quite a bit. I can say for sure that I was present when he put his foot down.”

Rexel, her rainbow-haired friend, nodded. “Zoel and the others should bother you less now.”

“If I can guarantee one thing about Cain, it’s that he’s very adamant about the rules being followed. He isn’t the alpha of the Argo pack and the leader of the Abellon Club for nothing.”

“I was fighting one of the twins,” Andre thought back. “Radulf, I think. He said something about Cain not letting them ‘tie up loose ends.’ I wonder what that meant.”

Lindsay mulled over that for a second before replying. “It sounds like budding insurrection to me. They should know better than to mess with their alpha. Cain Aspen is no ordinary wolf.”

The person on Rexel’s left, a black girl with an afro twice the size of Andre’s and a multitude of wristbands, gazed up into the yearningly and sighed.

“I know, right? Those muscles. His blond hair. And that country twang, too.”

“He’s a big, bad wolf, Ferra,” Rexel told her, grinning cheekily. “But I bet that’s not all that’s big.”

Ferra Rosemary blushed at the thought. “According to the older girls. Even some of the boys.”

The two giggled and fawned over the alpha wolf while the first-year boys watched them in confusion. Lindsay made a disgusted noise as she shook her head.

“Jesus, guys. Find a bottle of water and drink it.”

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t thought of putting your face in between those massive pec-pillows,” Rexel taunted.

“No and gross. It’s like… talking about my brother or something.”

“You’re brother’s twelve.”

The blue-haired second-year cringed. “Exactly!”

The four boys looked at each other and shrugged, not knowing what was going on. Several minutes later, a group of familiar people stepped into the food court, some looking quite anxious while being led by a plucky blond boy.

“Hey, guys!” Andre called over to them. “Over here!”

When they turned and approached their table, Rafe immediately recognized them as the humans they saved from Zoel and his cronies.

“You invited them over?” he lifted a brow at the omé.

“Well, duh. We did save them from those schmucks during the first day. If they sit with us, that means Zoel won’t be able to mess with them as much.”

“They’ll be under our protection,” Joe added, and Andre nodded with a proud smile.

“Yup. Besides, they’re just human. They’re not like you or Joe. If they can’t defend themselves, then we should do it for them,” the young wolf shrugged before giving his blond friend a complacent smirk. “I mean, you’ve been doing the same with me for years. I’m just taking inspiration.”

Rafe’s nostrils flared, a seed of annoyance in his stomach. He wasn’t one for being some kind of… savior. And he definitely wasn’t planning on fulfilling a hero quota any time in the future considering what he had planned for the Coat.

But it never hurt for Andre to have more friends.

“You’re right,” Rafe voice, albeit somewhat reluctantly. “Yeah, sure. But I hope that means you’ll be learning a couple of moves yourself.”

“If it makes you happy, dude.”

And so, several more spaces were taken up at their table. Rudy Mason, a human mage who specialized in ice magic and pretty much the leader of their little gang, introduced his fellow friends. His sister, Sam, sat next to him, quiet but polite. She was a shy one, but Andre’s approachable demeanor seemed to set her and the others at ease.

When Rudy’s attention rested on Daeran, he smiled kindly and pointed at the cross necklace he adorned.

“Nice necklace, man. Are you Catholic or something?”

Daeran, having spaced out some time ago, “Oh, uh, yeah. I’m not… devout or anything, just… I do believe.”

“I wonder if that’ll put you in good graces with the hunters, though,” Rafe wondered, recalling Talon and his refusal to acknowledge both Daeran and Andre.

“Going invisible, growing trees, summoning metal cubes, and a cross necklace,” Joe counted off on his fingers. “I hope you know I’m keeping notes, bro. I’m not giving up.”

Daeran just blushed and shrugged.

After dinner, they moved together through campus toward the Lilith Society, where Lindsay said a party was going down tonight. The moon was high and bright, making Andre a bit giddy, but students and teachers were still out and about. On their way, however, they passed by Zoel and the twins, who sneered in their direction. Rafe, Joe, Lindsay, and Rudy turned their noses back up at them, but the others either ignored them or winced.

“Little shits,” Kodan jeered.

Zoel scoffed, a slimy smirk stretching across his face. “Dipshits think they’ve won. Now, they’re sharing the lesbo’s snatch as a victory prize. Well, maybe not all of them.”

He eyed Rafe and Andre, the former bristling while the latter kept his face forward.

Radulf laughed, revulsion clear in his tone. “The two, little brownie queens over there.”

That set Rafe off. “Sons of-”

A hand latched onto his shoulder before he could take another step, and the superhuman would have shoved that person off if it hadn’t been Andre.

“Raf. Don’t. Not right now.”

“Just keep on walking,” Lindsay shook her head, face scrunched up in barely contained rage as the trio snickered. “Their leashes have been refashioned and tightened recently, so their barking like undomesticated bitches is to be expected.”

“Sounds like they need to be taken back to the pound,” the blond snarled, but grudgingly trudged along.

That wasn’t the only encounter on the journey. Just as they were nearing the middle-grade dorm buildings, a familiar female figure stood in their path, golden-red hair and pale eyes grinning a smile full of mischief before popping out of existence in a silent flash of blue light.

“Was that her again?” Joe asked.

Rafe nodded. “Yeah. Hecuba Collins. We’ve been seeing her all over the place, but every time we get close, she vanishes. I’m starting to think she’s taunting us and wants us to chase her like headless chickens.”

“A teleporter, eh?’ Rudy snorted. “Nothing like a little magic can’t face up against.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah!” Lindsay piped up excitedly, the topic of magic bringing her out of her funky mood. “Don’t underestimate the mages, boys. I’m not on that kind of level yet, but I do know that with a simple lock-on to her spiritual aura, wherever she goes, I go.”

Hearing that, Joe backed up to wrap an arm around Andre’s shoulders, who smirked knowingly. “Well, she better watch out because my furry homie over here and I are getting in touch with our inner magic. Intro to MM is really doing us favors.”

“With Rotar, right? God, it’s only been several months, but I miss that flying eyeball-head. I always meant to ask him if his eyeball was actually his brain, and it had the appearance of the eyeball so it wouldn’t freak us the hell out.”

“I just wonder where they found him to begin with.”

“He says he’s not a god,” the omé spoke up, “but he sure does work some miracles. Just the other day, I was able to bring a couple of dead flowers back to life during gardening class.”

Rafe scoffed, glancing back at his young wolf friend. “He’s Ms. Rishi’s favorite now.”

“Bringing something back to life,” Rexel, along with the other human mages, gaped at Andre. “Even if they’re just plants, that’s impressive… and advanced.”

“More than advanced,” Ferra stepped closer to the omé, looking at Andre as if she was seeing him for the first time. “You wouldn’t happen to be a talking, floating eyeball-head with bicycle wheels around you, would you, Andre?”

“Who really knows?” Andre winked at Rafe, who huffed out a laugh.

“Well, while I’m sure he worked wonders for you, I’m still not getting it. I don’t have a magical bone in my body.”

“Everyone does. Even you, Mister Grumpy Pants. You seemed to work marvels in my life, so I’m positive you’ll get there.”

A warm feeling settled in the blond superhuman’s stomach, making him swallow as he tried to hide the blush wanting to color his cheeks.

“Don’t say shit like that, man,” he grumbled, wiping at his face.

Andre chortled. “Love you, too, buddy.”

-POI-

The next day, Rafe walked out of his dorm room’s bathroom, having gotten through his morning routine, to find Andre sitting on his bed, a box of Twinkies in one hand and a can of Sprite in the other. He had gone out to get some snacks since today was the day of Combat try-outs. The blond had been unsuccessful in convincing his pacifistic friend into joining, but the omé did promise to watch extra closely.

But what was real funny was the shirt he was wearing. A white t-shirt with the words “Flannel Blondie’s my Best Friend!” scrawled in near unintelligible writing across it.

Total cheerleader.

Plus, Andre was growing totally comfortable teasing the superhuman with that name. He needed to come up with something, too, and badger back.

“Try-outs Day!” the wolf cheered. “I hope you can feel your limbs today because something tells me your gonna wanna be at one-hundred percent!”

Rafe smirked as he tapped his biceps. “I’m good to go. It’s only been five days, but I feel like I can face up to anything.”

“You say that every time after you go to the gym.”

Just then, Andre’s phone rang – a theme song from some cartoon Rafe’s recently introduced him to – from his desk. Placing his food down, he walked over to it and answered, putting it on speaker.

“Hello?”

“See? I told you,” Beau’s voice resonated, distant and smug. “First ring and cherub answers. If we called imp, we’d be on hold for hours.”

“Hush up,” Toby retorted, the rolling of his eyes clear in his voice.

“Mr. Beau? Mr. Toby? Is that you?” Andre questioned as Rafe came up behind him.

“Hey, buddy! Just checking up on you two on how your first week went.”

“I just wanna know. Has the imp killed anybody yet?” Beau asked.

Rafe chuckled. “Didn’t I promise you you’ll be the first one, old man?”

“Ah! Thank the gods! No one else gets that honor but me. You hear me, ya little devil!?”

Toby sighed, although with a hint of amusement. “Alright, alright. But seriously, how are you guys? Still in one piece?”

“Better than ever. Well, in Rafe’s case,” the omé turned to the aforementioned boy. “Try-outs for the combat team start today. Even though he’s gone to the gym every time after this military boot camp of a class.”

“Ah, yes. Mr. Hallsworth,” Beau exhaled, a tinge of an edge in his rough voice. “That old crone always had it out for us kids even back then. You know, one time, me and a couple of friends tried to put her name in a child abuse registry?”

“You what!?” Toby hissed.

“Holy shit!” Rafe gawked.

“Cherub. Imp. When I tell you not to fuck with old ladies, she is at the forefront of every one of my nightmares. Don’t think you can pull a fast one on her.”

The punishment she must have dealt out…

Not even Rafe wanted to dwell on it.

“I don’t think she knows you’re my guardian, so I’ll keep that under wraps,” the blond shook his head. “Though, I do have to ask. You’ve been on a team, yeah?”

“I guess you could call it that. You start on a general team, but if you’re good enough, you could be elected for a club. I’ve been a part of one, but it wasn’t as big as the Abellon Club or anything.”

“Wait. Hold on. You… know about the Abellon Club?” he and Andre gave each other a surprised glance.

They were under the impression that the Abellon Club was a recent thing. Beau would have long been out of Ironward by the time Cain started.

“Of course, I do,” the lycan spoke as if it should have been obvious. “Everyone in the Milky Way who watches fighting sports does. They’ve had the potential to become a professional club for some time now. Lords only know why that hasn’t been the case yet.”

“You don’t say,” Andre said slowly, his thoughts ruminating on the possible connection between Zoel’s agitation and Cain.

“Cain wouldn’t let us do shit about it, but we’re not gonna let any loose ends be left untied once we get what we want.”

There had to be more to that line than just some angry, throwaway statement. Was Lindsay right? Was there going to be some kind of uprising? But over what?

“It sounds like you guys are finding your way through things,” Toby chimed in. “I mean, I wouldn’t know. I’m only going based on stories from Beau, and it sounds like too much trouble and stress. Just make sure to stay in your lane and try not to cause too many waves, okay? This isn’t a four-year school, so your time there is nowhere near brief.”

“You got it, sir.”

Meanwhile, Andre and Rafe gave each other a look and cringed.

Too late.

-POI-

The two talked with Beau and Toby for a bit longer before bidding each other farewell. It was a nice reprieve to speak with them. Especially in Rafe’s case, who always had the nagging feeling at the back of his head that the Coat was hunting them down.

Later, Rafe and Andre met up with Joe and Daeran in their dorm’s common room.

“A bunch of our classmates just passed us by,” Joe pointed out. “Ten bucks say they’re headed to try-outs.”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Too easy for you. Fifty say they’re trying out.”

The four soon began following another group, who said they were headed to the try-outs as well. They were led a long way near the outskirts of the island, a wide space akin to the length of a couple of soccer fields surrounded by hills. Bleachers, some ground level and connected and others remote and floating, were positioned at the edges of what was named the War Field, the home arena for Combat teams and clubs of Ironward whenever there’s a match.

And there already seemed to be a large crowd forming for today’s endeavors,

“Careful. At your three. There’s a couple of nefarious faces nearby,” Joe mentioned, glaring out into the sidelines, where there stood the Abellon Club.

Cain was present, but Zoel and the vampire Deyja were there beside him as well. The three of them stood before the rest of their fellow teammates, the spearheads of the club even though Cain was the head chief. The de Boule twins, and several of the vampires that were with Deyja the first time they met her were stationed there, looking down upon the rest of the clubs and participants like a bunch of lords, but they were positioned in a way where Cain was the center of their troop, all gravitating towards him.

“Oh, great,” Rafe eyed Zoel and Deyja in distaste.

“Just ignore the schmucks,” Andre advised, placing a hand on the blond’s back. “Don’t stare for too long or their sixth sense will notice.”

The superhuman blinked at his wolf friend. The omé’s been using that word “schmuck” a lot lately, which was strange because, since he’s known the brunette, he’s never used it. At first, he ignored it, but now Rafe had to wonder where Andre’s heard it before.

Christ, Rafe, he internally scolded himself. Get it together and focus!

“Lindsay did say she got Cain to lock down on Zoel and his friends,” Daeran whispered, unable to look away from the gamma wolf.

“But not the bloodsucker beside them. I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t bothered us all week.”

“You think he’d pull a fast one and get her to spin a little lie for Cain,” Joe mumbled.

“Hopefully, that means that she’ll have to run validation through Cain, first,” Andre replied.

The quad carefully made their way onto the War Field, staying cautious as to not alert either Zoel or Deyja. They made sure to situate themselves on the other side of the field where they are less likely to be discovered by anyone they know.

“Okay. Good luck, you guys,” the omé wished them when they lost view of the Abellon Club. “I’ll be coming up with some team names while you’re all at it.”

“You better be watching closely, dude,” Rafe narrowed his eyes down at his friend. “There’ll be a pop quiz on defensive techniques right after this.”

Andre chuckled and saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain!”

And then, he was off to the sidelines. Rafe watched as the young wolf grabbed a seat furthest, highest seat before giving them a thumbs-up.

“Welcome, students and participants, to the first half of the annual Combat try-outs!” all conversation ceased at the sound of Mr. Emais’ voice. The enigmatic deputy headmaster sat upon a levitating, circular podium, looking down over all who showed up. His cane rested on his back, glinting in the bright, morning sunlight. “I hope you brought you’re A-game, kids, because this is the time where you’ll be showcasing your absolute best to all of us. It doesn’t matter if you’re hiding limitless strength or if your power will obliterate the entire planet, we want – need – to see the peak of your capabilities.

“Today’s meet will proceed as followed: You will be placed into a unit of a random number, and each group will have a coach to inspect you throughout the rotation. Each trial will test a specific capability and measure its proficiency, which will contribute to your overall value on a team.

“I should put out that for first-years, try-outs are for general team placements only. You will not be able to join an established club or ensue the formation of one of your own until your second year. Official clubs are allowed to handpick hopefuls and develop an adjacent club similar to a master-protégé relationship, but the individuals will still have to partake in general team activities and fights until they are fully eligible.

“And now, for the moment you’ve been waiting for. We’ve already placed you in a group of random choosing, so listen closely for your name as each coach announces their group members one by one.”

The six coaches lined up in front of the end lines, leaving sizable spaces between each other. And every five seconds, they recited a name from the clipboard they held. Their voices echoed throughout the entire field, so some participants had to sprint toward the front since they were so out back.

Eventually, the crowd was thin when they finally got to first-years. However, Rafe, Joe, and Daeran’s names were called in a row by three different coaches. Which meant that they had to go their separate ways.

“Don’t worry,” Rafe assured them. “This is only try-outs, boys. Besides, I’ve been wanting to see what you two were made of first-hand. I hope you’ll be able to keep up with me.”

Joe smirked back in challenge. “You better watch yourself. I know a trick or two that’ll definitely give you a run for your money, bro.”

Daeran sighed but relented with a scratch at the back of his neck. “Don’t kick my ass too hard.”

They shared a laugh before sauntering over to their designated groups. Rafe made sure to squeeze his way to the front. If any of the upperclassmen had a problem with it, they could talk it up with his fists. This was try-outs after all, so fighting was on the table.

He thought he was going to have a scrap when he spotted a certain, club-wielding barbarian up ahead. And as if sensing a familiar foe, Frodd spun around and linked eyes with the superhuman.

“It’s you,” the blond stated flatly, waiting to see what the other first-year’s attitude while sober was.

“Raphael Gold.”

His eye twitched at hearing his full name, but he let it go and churlishly responded, “What?”

Frodd felt the increasing animosity and lifted his hands in surrender. “I come with no ill will, mate. I just wanted to apologize for actin’ the maggot last week. I had no intentions of making any enemies that night. I was, uh… just in a bad place, you know?”

Hearing that, Rafe slowly began to relax. No premature beatdown this time.

“Hey, man. No worries. I said a bunch of shit I didn’t mean, too. We were both drunk off our asses. Plus, you gave me a good workout. It was kind of fun fighting you, I’m not gonna lie. What do you say we just leave all that crap in the past?”

“Agreed, mate,” Frodd nodded, then let out a relieved, shaky breath. “Honestly, I thought ye were gonna deck me for a second there. Those knuckles of yours could really put a bigger dope in the hospital.”

Rafe chuckled, peering down at the wooden tool strapped to the barbarian's waist. “That weapon of yours can really do some damage, too, dude. Wasn’t expecting it.”

“Armor from deities, remember?”

“I believe.”

“Alright, guys,” their coach, a bipedal lion, called for their attention. “First stage of the day is the potential test. You’ll step right up onto this metal platform, and the machine will measure your current strength and the power you’ve yet to unlock. At least, as much as it could stand at the moment. And just so you know, the ranges between power levels are pretty high, so don’t freak out if you get a single-digit number. Anything above a six or a seven is pretty above average.”

One after the other, each partaker stepped up to a contraption that had a similar appearance to a punch machine – just without the bag – and remained until their number appeared. There was a host of fours and fives. Several got threes. And only a few got nines or tens.

When it was Frodd’s turn, his number hit six.

Rafe clocked out at an eight.

If there was any jealousy on the barbarian’s part, it came off as playful and good-natured.

“Well, well, looks like I was a lucky lad that day, eh?” Frodd grinned, recalling their fight during the basement party.

Rafe shrugged, trying to clamp down on all the smugness he wanted to shove in the other boy’s face. “Going to the gym five days a week certainly helps.”

The club-wielder gave the superhuman an expression of disbelief before shaking his head. “Ye may be strong, but don’t think that’ll be enough to put me down. I’ll reach your level like that. And then, I want another go at ya.”

Now, that was what he liked to hear.

“I’ll be waiting.”