Heeeeeeeeeeeyyy! Welcome back to part 3! I'm really excited to start this story, especially since this is the story where a lot of original characters are going to get introduced! If you've already read Parts 1 and 2, welcome back! If not, why not go and give them a read? Otherwise you won't understand this story. A little bit of housekeeping, I ought to warn you that from here on out the series is going to get a tad more dark. There are still going to be lighthearted moments and the same humour from the previous parts, but as my writing style has matured it has become a little morbid at times. I will put content warnings at the beginnings of potentially troubling chapters, and feel free to ask me to add any.
And now, without further ado, enjoy the chapter!
(Apologies on having to repost this chapter, the formatting messed up.)
Chapter 1: Home
The morning bustle of the harbour had been in motion for some hours now. Since the crack of dawn labourers had been loading crates on and off ships of all kinds; great, big ocean liners, heaving their expensive loads to ends of the Earth. Luxurious ferries engulfed their passengers in comfort to ease the long journey ahead, and even a few privet yachts were in preparation for adventure.
The sky shed its early red light, leaving a clear blue wash, as serene as the calm lap of the ocean below. Yet another ship glided in from the horizon and eased its way to the docks. A plank-like walkway was set down, and passengers came spewing out of the vessel; after many nights drifting across the Atlantic Ocean, they were all to eager to walk on dry land once more.
One young man, after having some difficulty disembarking with two large suitcases, took a moment to catch his breath before taking in his busy surroundings. A wave of nostalgia hit him as he took a deep breath of salty air. It all seemed unchanged; the polite yet impatient flow of the crowd, the screech of loading cranes, the caw of gulls over his head as they searched for pastries to snatch. He tapped his feet excitedly on the ground, all to happy to have British soil under his feet once more; four and a half years had felt like forever in America, but now he was back home, it was as if he had never left. Eager to press onwards, Luke Triton took a suitcase in each hand and marched towards the taxi station.
The train was a nice change of pace from the boat. Rather than looking out of the window and seeing nothing but ocean and sky, he gleefully took in the countryside he had so sorely missed; the Tritons had not found time to visit England since they moved away, thus the familiar scenery, although it was gone as soon as you saw it, was a welcome sight to Luke. Vast fields were being brought into harvest by the tracks, solitary cottages stood far from the noise of nearby towns, and even the cattle they passed were comforting signs of British landscape. All too soon they pulled into Kings Cross station, but while the calm countryside he had missed so much was now behind him, Luke was even more excited to be entering London.
After so long away, for a moment after leaving the station Luke was completely overwhelmed by the city. Everything towered over him imposingly, the sounds of traffic drowned out all else. After a few minutes of disorientation, he found his London legs and began to make a move. Everything was almost entirely as it had been; sure, as he walked he noticed that the odd building had been built, roads had changed and his old favourite sweet shop had closed down, but it wasn't the drastic change he had feared. In fact, if anything, the size of everything and the fear of getting lost had become a lot less intimidating, although that may have just been due to the fact that he had grown.
The buildings got smaller and the streets got quieter. At last, Luke found himself stood in front of a beautiful, architecturally grand building. His arms ached from hauling his luggage all this way, but before he could drop them off at his new dorm, he had promised to make a visit. He straightened his blue-grey flat cap and headed inside Gressenheller University.
To be back at the university was a strange sensation. As well as the nostalgia he had been experiencing so far, he was now seeing the place in an entirely different light than when he had been there as a child. Second and third year students were already back on campus, milling around and hurrying to lessons. Four years ago, Luke looked up to the students like any other adult, believing that they had their lives completely under control. Now that he was one of them, he was beginning to realise how un-adult he felt.
He made his way down the corridors as if he'd only been there yesterday. A few names had changed on the office doors, but otherwise everything was as it should be. As he reminisced he realised that he had been stood at the door of his destination for some moments now. The placard read, as it always had, "Professor H. Layton". Luke took a deep breath, smartened himself up once more, and then knocked.
"Come in."
Luke pushed the door open; the office was exactly as he remembered it. The same books and historical artefacts lined every wall, the worn but comfy sofa remained in its spot, and unorganised papers were strewn across every surface. The sweet scent of brewed tea intoxicated Luke, drawing him inwards. Sat at the desk, with his back turned, was the man at the heart of it all, top hat and everything. He turned and gave a rejoiceful smile to his old apprentice. Luke didn't even wait for him to stand; dropping his luggage, we ran to his beloved professor and hugged him tightly. Professor Layton laughed kindly and patted the boy on the shoulder.
"Welcome back, Luke."
"I must say, I did not expect there to be so many cultural differences." The Professor chuckled as Luke told him stories from his time in America. The tea had been drunk and the biscuits were but crumbs, but the old friends hardly noticed, relishing each other's company once more.
"I know!" Luke exclaimed. "Most of them don't even own kettles!"
"Good heavens!" They laughed some more. "I suppose you will miss your American friends, now that you're back."
"Yeah…" Luke's voice trailed off, and he looked wistfully down into the empty teacup in his hands. "I suppose I will… That is… Until…" He shook himself and smiled at his old mentor. "Never mind. How's Flora doing?" The Professor gave him a questioning look, but decided not to question the topic change.
"She is very well! She tells me that she is already settling in."
"I can't believe she got into Cambridge!" Luke grinned. "Is she still planning on getting a PhD after her masters degree?"
"I believe so." The Professor said proudly. "But in the meantime, she is looking into work as a teaching assistant." Luke gave a loud snort.
"Flora? A teacher? Blimey." He giggled. The Professor cocked his head questioningly
"What about that is so funny?" He asked innocently. "Do you think she-"
"No! No, I think she would be brilliant at it." Luke said sheepishly. "It's just that she has a rather short temper… And that combined with school kids… Well…"
"Ah, you may have a point." Layton sighed. "But I'm sure she will learn to manage. Afterall, you two were children not so long ago, it cannot be that hard to communicate with them."
Luke smiled fondly, thinking back on the adventures he, Flora and the Professor had had. As if moving to another country hadn't been enough to adjust to, leaving behind the thrilling mysteries that had become common place when with the Professor had also been a challenge. Even after all this time he missed excitement that every new case promised.
"Say, been solving any mysteries recently?" Luke hoped that he could at least enjoy listening to some anecdotes, but the Professor just shook his head apologetically.
"I'm afraid not, not for some years now." He replied.
"Ey? How come?"
The Professor just shrugged and began to clear up the tea cups. "There was just never the time. I have my teaching to focus on, and once Flora left home I found myself without an assistant. I never got around to hiring another one, and eventually my workload forbade that I take on any new requests." He pushed the tray aside, knocking several pieces of clutter off the coffee table. "Of course, I still get letters from people asking for help, and it breaks my heart that I have to say no… But that's just how it is, I suppose."
"I… I'm sorry to hear that."
The Professor gave a sly smile as he stood up and started to search one of the bookcases. "However, despite the fact that I no longer do freelance work, I have not been idle." He took down an untitled volume and placed it in front of Luke, inviting him to have a look. Luke took the book in his hands and began to flick through the pages. Photographs of familiar places and objects had been glued to the pages, each accompanied by detailed notes in the Professor's hand. The pictures featured jungles, villages, deserts, portraits and one particularly unsettling drawing of machine with a human shape bound to it.
"Targent…" Luke couldn't help hissing the name. He looked to the Professor, a tad hurt. "You've been researching them all this time?"
Layton frowned. "Yes, although I have yet to find any sufficient leads." He admitted. "Nothing related to Targent or the Azran has surfaced since the Hall of Dreams was discovered. Although, perhaps the Azran are no longer a useful point of investigation, if we believe what the 'Leader' told us." Just the mention of the 'Leader' gave Luke the chills. This nameless, faceless adversary who had resurrected Targent from the ashes was now using it to achieve his own enigmatic ends. When they had last encountered him, he showed no mercy for those who fought against him, and took great pleasure in toying with their minds and emotions.
Luke closed the book and rested it on his lap. He clocked the Professor with a solemn but intense gaze. "On that day, in the Hall of Dreams, I made a promise." He recalled, an air of valour in his tone. "I promised that I would stop at nothing until Targent is dismantled once and forever." He allowed himself a slight smile. "I'm home now, Professor. I want to solve this mystery with you." He didn't know what response to expect, maybe a 'I can't let you, it's too dangerous' or even 'you have your studies to worry about'. Instead, the Professor beamed gladly.
"It would be an honour" he said honestly, "To have you by my side again."