Chapter Text
There wasn’t any noticeable change when the boat slipped from Novyi Zem to Ketterdam. It was simply as though the sun set one night, then refused to share its face anymore. The trip lasted a week, and it was on the last two days that a chilly grey settled around them, clinging to the boat and refusing to let them see too far ahead, as if protecting them from the openness of the sea.
Jesper asked a crew member after it had been nearly a full day of this, whether it was normal. It was, he said. “That’s just the sea getting you used to the Ketterdam air. Breathe it in while you can, the canals won’t be so sweet.”
He had never been to Ketterdam before, only heard of it from travellers. It was supposed to be lawless, the streets rolling with rats, ruffians, and all sorts of evil-doers. There were nice parts, too, of course. Everyone assured him that the university was pristine, closed off from the sin of the staves. Further off in the country was supposedly much better, too.
“It’s only in Ketterdam where the sun rarely shines. Their god doesn’t want to shine light on what goes on there.” A travelling merchant in Novyi Zem had shared this information with Jesper after hearing the news that he was going to university. His da had been telling everyone, equal parts proud and terrified, if Jesper had to guess. Jesper was nervous too, but not as much as he was excited to finally see the city. Life on the farm was fine, of course. Open fields and running free under the sun never hurt anyone–but he couldn’t wait to walk streets lined with shops, push through crowds, feel the bustle of the markets rushing past.
When the boat finally arrived at the harbor, it was late evening, the harbor already quieting with nightfall. Jesper grabbed his luggage, just one large trunk, and set off, hoping the university wouldn’t be too far off and wishing he’d considered minimalism before packing.
Thankfully, the harbor was in the university district, so the walk wasn’t too far, but Jesper made up his mind to explore the wonders of the city as soon as he could. The area reminded him too much of cities around Novyi Zem–tranquil and clean–nothing like the raucous taverns and parties he’d been promised. He passed small shops selling stationery and cafes open late for students, a warm glow and the scent of strong coffee coming from inside. Excitement in his stomach flickered with anxiety as he walked the cobblestone streets, wondering if he really fit into this place.
Upon arriving at the university, he stumbled through the paperwork, signing wherever the secretary pointed, then followed as she guided him around campus, still lugging that saint's forsaken trunk.
“Here is our library,” the woman said, pointing out a large, stately building. “Surely you’ll be spending much of your time there. It contains rare books, maintained by Tidemakers. And over here the finance hall . . . what is it you’re studying? How about we do just a quick tour, I do need to get home.”
Thank Ghezen, Jesper thought. “Business,” he answered. “And agriculture. To help run my Da’s farm.”
She nodded absentmindedly. “Then you’ll be in the finance hall, as well as over there.” She pointed to a large building with dark windows and a greenhouse beside. “Science building. One of the older buildings on campus, but perfectly nice all the same. And the dormitory is just beside. If that’s all, I really must be off. It’s late, and I have to cross the Barrel to get home. You know how that is.” She stated, shaking her head.
“Exciting? Thrilling? I can’t wait to explore it,” he told her.
“Sure, lad, but bring a group and don’t get too friendly with anyone there. Those folk aren’t your friends, doesn’t matter what they say.”
She wandered off in the direction they’d come, wishing him well. Jesper took a breath, then headed into the dormitory.
This, he decided, was much more his style. The first thing he saw walking into the large foyer was university students lounging everywhere, boys and girls sitting in armchairs or at desks, some laying on the floor. They talked and laughed and pored over ridiculously large books. A boy with light hair and an easy smile came up to him.
“Are you moving in? This your first year?”
“Yeah, that obvious, is it?” Jesper had asked, smiling a bit awkwardly.
“Nah, just the trunk that gives it away. Come on. What’s your name?”
“Jesper Fahey. And yours?”
“Cas. You’re here pretty late, Jesper. No one tell you classes start first thing tomorrow?”
Cas kept walking, leading Jesper down narrow hallways lined with numbered doors.
“I know, just my Da wouldn’t let me leave earlier.”
Cas laughed, “Sure. But now you’re on your own, in the wilds of Ketterdam! Here, this is you.” Cas stopped at a door with a small paper with Jesper’s named tacked on it. “And if you want a tour of the city some time, let me know,” he said, smiling and looking up through his eyelashes at Jesper. “I know all the best places.”
“You’ll be my first call,” Jesper replied, in the back of his head stunned he’d been able to reply coherently at all. Maybe this was what university was all about.
Slipping inside the room, he was disappointed to see a blank, bare room. His bedroom at home was cozy, worn in by 15 years of living there. This one appeared to be inhabited by another individual already, with clothes covering half the floor and some papers scattered on a desk. The rest, he assumed, was left to him. A thin bed, empty desk, and a lonely set of drawers.
Tiredly, Jesper began to unpack, shoving clothes into drawers, dropping notebooks onto the desk. Finally, nestled in the bottom of the trunk and wrapped in cloth, he pulled out his revolvers. They were beautiful, with pearl handles and polished until they gleamed. They’d belonged to his mother, her prize possession before they were his. Jesper knew he shouldn’t have brought them. They were far too valuable, too nice to be sitting here in this dank room. But he simply couldn’t leave them. He never used them, not even at home. Before, he’d shot them with his mother, once she’d trusted he wouldn’t break or lose them. But afterwards . . . afterwards they’d simply sat among his things, kept cleaned but never used.
He wrapped them back in the cloth and laid them carefully in a drawer underneath some shirts. Here, he hoped, they would be safe from any of those notorious thieves he’d been hearing about.