80 Days
A/N: Holy cow! It's been awhile since I upload a new chapter on this story. But fear not faithful readers! I will not neglect this story at all. I just have to deal with my super tight, final year schedule and I'm gonna do as best as I can to update this story. Still until I graduate from high school, irregular update it is.
Don't forget to leave a review for me! I know I'm not the best writer even in my native language so I accept any critique or comment you give to me! After all, how can I be a better writer if I don't know how my reader thinks about.
Despite all the accommodation this airship provide ─being an Ottoman Geyik-class airship imported straight from Persia─ its food certainly fails me. I can handle an overcooked omelet, or an undercooked salmon fillet, but to ruin a supposedly simple dish such as a potage ─that's definitely push my limit. Just… why? I'm not a critique, yes, but at least put some effort on this one. The soup is more of a potato broth than a thick, creamy, puréed soup. Looking at a bowl of it makes me cringe. I believe this thing feels sorry for him.
Fortunately, my breakfast coffee is not that bad. It's definitely above the usual brown liquid that made to taste exactly like a real coffee. And they actually brew it on a perfect temperature; just enough to release the taste but not destroys it. Still I shouldn't expect much from the Turkish chef that serve European cuisine here.
The dining hall is quite empty, with only a handful of the table here seated. Also, there's still no sign of the tan-skinned woman around. Perhaps Korra still packing her things and God knows how many did she carries. My only concern is that although last night we might apologize, I'm afraid that perhaps there was something left out last night. In the back of my mind, I fear that Korra might not accept my apology. Of course that's only me being paranoid as always. Korra surely apologize me. And although I'm still wishing that she's here ─it's quite boring sitting alone here─ I resolve to not think of anything else and enjoy this moment of peace.
Why? Because in a matter of hour, I will descend into the land I soon call home for who knows how long.
The airship descends slowly until I can see the Britain's coastline from the dining hall's window. I cannot believe how I miss seeing the ground after a three days trip with nothing but the blue sky and the Atlantic as my only view. Slowly the coastline turns into a rural area with barns and fields, looking like small dots of various sizes from up here. As we get closer to the ground, we leave the rural England to be greeted by the sight of smoke, tall buildings, cobblestone road, and carriages pulled by mechanical horse. The street is busy with men and women wearing extravagant outfit and despite the gloomy London sky, I can see that it do not stop the people here from doing their daily activity. This is truly London, the city of innovation!
We tether at Hyde Park, a huge green patch in the middle of London where airships with shape, size, and color I have never seen before. This place is the hub of airships going in and out of London, with airship pick or drop their passenger from many corner of Europe and beyond ─one cannot underestimate the size of the Britain Empire, let alone the entire Europe.
Apparently, before this place was chosen as an airship hub, there was a place some blocks away from the Trafalgar Square to land airships. But for all the brilliant mind of Victorian England, they seems quite oblivious with the tall structure sitting idly waiting for airship to fly low enough. And it did happen, some odd years ago, resulting a mess worth of thousands of pounds.
I'm just glad they did pick Hyde Park as the landing spot in London. It's already a daunting task to navigate around the airship tethering in here, and I'm glad that the Turks here know how to pilot their airship. Although the burner room is a good distance away from the dining hall, I can hear the cry of the crew shouting intangible order to steady this ship. Soon hundred of iron cables shoot out from atop all the way to our landing spot in the grass, and I confess it is quite a show watching it from the dining hall's window. I assume that the rest of the passengers agree with me; all of them gathering to watch the able-bodied crew in their goggles and gloves sliding the cable to help it lands.
No sooner than that, we are pulled down and descending slowly to the ground. I hold my suitcase and ready myself to the main door. As I walk there, I glance here and there, watching the surprising amount of diversity in the passengers. There is a slick-haired young man with a case and a book in his hands; a family of middle aged dark-skinned couple with their son bickering on when they will arrive; a portly gentleman with a luscious moustache who keep watching his brass pocket watch; and a young woman with a short brown hair…
Korra!
As soon as I see that hair, I begin my search for Korra, only to be halted by the crowds in front of me. I stuck in the middle looking like a fool as I seek that hair once again. I push, excuse, and trip myself all the way towards Korra but to my surprise, she's not there. I do a double check and look around, scanning every faces I see in hope that Korra is one of them.
A groaning sound vibrates throughout the airship. It stays like that for a few minute until it settles with a huge thud as the airship's body hit the ground. Then the door opens up, revealing the green grass of Hyde Park and the bustling activity there.
I stand there, in the middle of the park, relishing the sensation of solid ground beneath my feet. What a blessing to be back on ground, a feeling that I never felt in my three days trip above that airship. I close my eyes, just listening to the surrounding. The smell of rain still lingers in the air; cold and crisp air blows gently around me. Well I rather grow accustomed to it. Who knows how long am I going to stay here, and even though I already missed the atmosphere of New York, perhaps I will soon call this place home. Ah the life of a valet, always moving from place to place, never tied to one spot. Just when will I stop being like this and enjoy my freedom whenever I want it? I guess that as a valet my freedom is always with my master.
Still the view around me is very nice. Hundred of airships tethered around the park, some are hanging so low you might be able to touch it. People are everywhere in this park and I have to be extra careful navigating through the crowd with my hand on my suitcase and the other guarding my wallet. Hey, you can't blame me for being proactive. A rowdy night in New York will teach you many things about guarding your pocket. And to not trust a clean-shaved fellow. Well… any clean-shaved fellow besides me.
Lucky for me I do not meet any clean-shaved fellow today. I approach one of the carriages that gather around the park waiting for a passenger. To my surprise, I find Korra standing near a carriage. It appears that she's struggling to lift her suitcase into the roof of the carriage. I stride quickly and just in time to hold her case before she even reach it. At first she's shocked, but after she sees whose hand holding it, she looks visibly relaxed.
"Goodness, Jack! I almost hit you!"
"Then I'm lucky that didn't happen." I say casually as I lift her case, "where is your cabbie? I thought that it was his job to haul your case."
Then a head appears from the front seat of the carriage, "you can say that again lad." he says in a thick Scottish accent, "what sort of sane man would lift such heavy cases like that?"
"Well maybe you're not man enough?" Korra snap back.
The cabbie just snort at Korra's outburst, "or maybe you're not sane enough."
The head disappear again to the front seat, and lucky for me I manage to hold Korra whose about to rain Hell on the cabbie. Her face is like a raging bull; red face and fiery eyes, with nostril puffing breath like a steam machine.
"Don't listen to him. A jerk like him won't deserve you attention Korra."
She still stares at the spot where the cabbie once appears with a glare that can burn a hole through it and kill the cabbie. "That might explains why he was a cabbie then. And not a good one either."
I'm sure that Korra still want to punch him. I can tell it from the death-grip Korra give to her smaller suitcase as she loads it to the small compartment behind the carriage. Seriously, her knuckles are pale white. One could wonder what those arms could do if she did punch the cabbie.
I shudder as images of a bloodied Englishman appear in my head. Although one thing I agree with the cabbie: her suitcase does heavy.
With all the might of a valet, I lift her suitcase while looking like I only lift a pillow. No wonder that Korra have that arms ─lifting is a good exercise after all.
"A bit too heavy no?'' ask Korra.
"Not at all, I think. Nothing is too heavy for a valet like me."
Korra raise her eyebrow, a playful smirk across her lips. "You're bad at lying you know."
"Well you just that good at detecting lie." I retort back.
"Oy! Can you stop your banter and get in the carriage? It's getting bloody cold here."
Korra send her death glare to the direction of his voice, although the cabbie is lucky enough to not see it.
But Korra makes no fuss or any other retort and heads inside the carriage.
"Oh! One more thing."
Korra stop at her tracks just before she enters her ride. I quickly search my coat's pocket for my gift, and pull Korra's hand and place it on her palm. She retracts her hand and opens her palm, looking disbelieving at me.
"But Jack… this is your necklace. Your danitaga made it for you…"
"Well in that case then this is your necklace." I grab the necklace from her hands and give it a final look, "This is a piece of your culture, and I want you to keep it as a reminder of who you really are." I then place the necklace around her neck, and I couldn't disagree that she looks perfect with that necklace.
"My brother dies for a reason, Korra. I'm sure he knew that we will cross our path together and left me with this necklace. So… please, continue his fight. For me… for you."
Before I know it, Korra tackles me as she envelops me in a bone-crushing hug. I can feel her tears dampening my coat and soaking it. "Do you mean it?"
"Every… single… word." I answer her, while grasping for air Korra clearly restrict. "Korra… can't… breathe…"
Then as soon as the hugs came, she releases me. "Oh my God! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry! Did I hurt you? Please tell me that I didn't! Oh my God I can't believe I almost kill you. Are you mad at me? Of course he is! Why did you ask something as stupid as that-"
"Korra…" I raise my hand to stop her. "I'm not mad… at you…" I stop to catch a breath, "Just…"
I take a breath again, "A little…" I cough, "Warning… next time."
A blush form on her cheeks as she rub the back of her neck and stare the ground as if it is the most important thing in the world. "Sorry I did that. You know… the hug and the rambling."
"For God's sake if you didn't hop in I'll leave you for good."
Korra is visibly cringing at the sound of the cabbie again. Then she tries to walk to the front of the carriage to hit him ─if it not for me who holds her, the cabbie is pretty much dead.
"He's got a point. You don't want the people at Cambridge waiting for you."
She ignores me while glaring at the driver seat, "I'm going to kill that cabbie."
"Make sure you do that after you reach your destination."
She laughs for a bit before looking at me, "So… this is our goodbye?"
I nod, keeping my face straight despite the fact that it is near impossible for us to meet again. "Will we meet again, Jack?"
"Unfortunately, I'm not in a position to answer your question." She looks dejected at my answer and with a long sigh, she force a smile, trying her best to hold the tear forming on her eyes. "I wish you good luck, Jack."
"The same goes to you, Korra." She then get inside the carriage, seat herself in, and close the door. I can hear the cabbie mutter 'tourist' but I can't hear the rest after he whip his mechanical horse with his magnetic whip. A spark appears at the end of his whip after it contacts the horse's rear and it move with a judder. I watch the back of the carriage growing smaller and smaller until it gone into the crowd.
I should've ask Korra before. I mean how could she hail a carriage here? I've tried to point my thumb, and yell at the carriage. I even jump straight into the path of one carriage, but to no avail. They seem to ignore me for a reason.
"That's because you're not English enough."
I look at the man ─I mean, the boy─ behind me. "And what does that mean?"
"Well every cabbie here knows who's deserve the first seat. I mean don't get me wrong but you'll never get a ride with your American attitude."
"Damn British…" I curse under my breath before giving the boy a pointed look, "What do you mean by 'my American attitude'?"
The boy just laughs it off, "That's something you need to find out, my good sir."
I grow suspicious at this boy. There's just something off about him. Could he be a street urchin looking for my wallet?
"I can see that you need a ride there sir. Why don't you come with me instead of waiting here?"
I fix him a haughty gaze, not fazed by his dazzling smile.
"I'll give you a tourist discount."
What option do I have: being stuck here or follow this street urchin? I guess I don't have much choice then. "Why should I trust you?"
"You see this cap?" He then point to his cap, "How come you not trust a cabbie that wears a cabbie cap?"
I process the boy's word for a moment. "Touché."
"Then it is settled. Follow me sir." I follow him through the park into an open space next to the park where rows of mechanical carriage lined in perfect order. I wonder which one of these is this boy's carriage. After we pass a number of carriages, he stops at a ─you bet it─ a normal carriage, somehow hidden between its mechanical counterparts.
"Sooooo… I assume this is yours?"
The boy, despite looking like he hasn't reach puberty yet, climbs into the driver seat with ease. "Sure is sir. Now come in." He says with such enthusiasm. I shrug my shoulder; at least I don't need to walk. I get inside the carriage, carrying my only suitcase inside, and as the door click shut the boy whip his horse that pulls the carriage with a sudden jolt. The carriage moves up and down ─clearly not having a shock breaker─ and I'm thrown around inside. Luckily, I manage to hold my suitcase and hold it close to me. The inside of the carriage isn't as richly outfit comparing to the mechanical ones, but it's in a good level of comfortable. In fact, after a few minutes, the movement is not quite rough and I actually enjoy the sensation of the worn out plush seat.
"You are one lucky tourist sir. Richard here is the fastest horse in London!" shout the boy from a small window right in front of me.
He must be referring his horse, "How can you prove that?"
There is no answer from the boy, although eventually he does. "I can't. He is the only horse in this city."
"And why is that?"
"Her Majesty order. She declares that every horse in London to be 'drafted' to the military. Quite lucky that my dad manage to hid Richard, though until know, no one knows what the purpose behind the Queen's order."
I snort at that. Surely Queen Victoria realize that their holding in Asia and Africa are under a threat of independence, and through all means she try to protect it. I just can't believe that she will go that far to do it.
"The lack of horse in London led to the invention of phaeton. You know the mechanical carriage? They quickly replace horse drawn carriage and soon became popular. Well you just saw that right?"
Right after he says that a phaeton ─I just realize that's what its name─ zoom past us with such speed that the whole carriage rocks roughly. What a beast.
"See that?"
"I feel it," I say to the boy, "though that's exactly how this world works. The new always replace the old, though for better or worse, that does depend."
Silence passes us. I'm sure that the boy still pondering what my word's mean. Then surprisingly he replies with his usual enthusiasm.
"If that's the case I won't let myself replaced by them. This is all that I have from my father, and I'm going to ride this no matter what." He whips his horse harder and soon we gain speed. "But where were you going sir?"
Oh right, I haven't told the boy yet. I search my coat for that letter with my master's address. "Strand Street no. 32." I read aloud.
"And what business do you have in there?"
Wow, this kid is interrogative. "I'm a valet, and my master live there."
He musing my answer, all while driving the carriage. "What do you know about your master?"
This is getting uncomfortable. His question is vague at best, as if he is hiding something from me. "Nothing?" That came out like a question than an answer. "Please tell me that he is a normal person-"
Without a warning the carriage stops. I am thrown from my seat and my face hit the wooden floor with a loud thud. A groan is also heard, though whether it's from the old carriage or me is hard to tell. My head is spinning and I rub the sore spot in my forehead, before I hear a laugh. The cabbie's laugh.
"What? Did… did you just said…" Then he laughs again. Now I'm sure that my face is contorting into a weird combination of confusion and fear. I stare the wooden board in front of me ─the only thing separating me from the cabbie─ waiting for an explanation.
"You are a lucky man, sir. I tell you that."
"W-what?"
"I'm sparing you the detail, sir. For your own sake."
The carriage move again, the boy still laughing though not as loud as earlier. I want to ask more about my master ─since he apparently know more than you, Jack. What a valet you are─ but I don't want to divide his attention and drive us to a lamppost. Though his word still rings in my ear.
One hundred and twenty six. That's the exact number of lamppost I count until we reach a different part of London. We ride in silence ─after those cryptic words from the boy, so I started to count the lamppost to pass the time. Though as I observe, I notice that we are currently in a richer part. The stock bricks are unaffected by the polluted air and so it retain its color. Café and bookstore lining next to a cobblestone-paved street, with some patrons casually lounging in the café terrace. A few turns and we arrive in the residential area. Huge mansion made of bricks, and some even have a front yard. Of course they have a high metal fence, fearing for any unwanted trespasser. Typical wealthy people I grow familiar with. Perhaps my master live in this place. The street mark does say 'Strand Street', and I'm surprised that it's quite, well… empty. Except for a few people walking, there isn't much activity here. For a sudden I fear that my master might be a reclusive gentleman with an eccentric personas. Or a mirror of my previous master. Great, now I'm actually regretting my rash decision to leave New York.
I still have time to turn back and catch an airship heading to New York. Would it be a good idea? Of course it is, lest I suffer from an eccentric gentleman's wrath. Just stop the carriage, pay the boy, find a place to sleep, and then I can plan to get some money. A job on a restaurant? A hotel doesn't sound like a bad place to get a job. Then when the time is right one of the guests will notice my skill and picks me as their valet.
Sounds like a plan! For the first time Jack Rusco hatch a carefully planned plan that's actually carefully planned. Just as I about to ask the cabbie to pull over he somehow read my mind and stop the carriage. I look outside from the carriage's window to be greeted by a red brick house with a low brick fence ─also red─ and a small yard with a cobblestone path leading to the front door. The mailbox read 'Strand Street no. 32' and a cold pit form in my gut. I'm so not ready for this.
The door creaks open with the cabbie outside, a mischievous smile on his face. He then grabs my suitcase and helps me get out of the carriage.
"Here it is sir. Strand Street no. 32."
"Yeah, right… um thanks." I pull some money from my wallet as a payment for his service. The boy accepts it eagerly, smiling from ear to ear as he look at the money I give.
"You're the best sir," he say while climbing to the front of the carriage still grinning like a mad man, "you sir, are one lucky man I tell ya."
"I… is it something to do with my master?"
"How I wish to be you right now," the boy annoyingly avoids my question before he tipped his hat and waves me, "good luck!"
Then he whips his horse off, leaving me alone in front of my master's house. I recently realized that this house is actually two stories building. Another upper classmen master. How interesting.
"Well, there's no turning back now." I mutter to myself. Steeling my courage, I push open the fence door and walk to the front door. I knock on it twice, waiting for a response from inside. There are some unrecognized sounds, so faint that I can't hear it. A footstep soon growing closer and in a second the door's peephole open, revealing a pair of green eyes and the most intimidating voice rivaling my sergeant.
"Who is this?"
That is a long chapter. But hey, TWO UPDATES a day! How cool is that. I also realized that I haven't put Korra's name on the summary, and for your information the rest of the LoK cast are still out there, waiting to be found as your journey the world. So wait for the rest (I might add some character from different cartoon, but let's not get ahead of ourselves) and keep on reading.
