A hubbub rose within the confines of its walls, even echoing off the ceiling where an atlas globe was suspended, adorned with the flags of the seven shipping companies.
The atmosphere was saturated with the palpable anxiety of the students. There were a hundred of them, occupying the first three rows of chairs in front of the central stage. The rest of the room was filled with their parents. And all of them were under the critical gaze of the presidents of the various companies, seated in the balconies.In the midst of their fellow graduates, Lurcard and Allan took the opportunity to observe these men and women who — in the near future — would hire them into their companies based on the demonstration of the knowledge they had acquired over all these years. Smiling, Lurcard glanced over at his companion, who swallowed hard. Allan was nervous. Lurcard gave him a pat on the shoulder.
"It's going to be fine. We're going to make it!" he murmured.Allan nodded. As he turned his attention back to the stage, Lurcard noticed — two rows ahead — that Bill and his partner were staring at them. Wearing mischievous grins, they quickly looked away, clearly trying to throw him off.
Soon, from the top of the stage, a solemn voice rang out. "Your attention, please!"Everyone was immediately silent — students and parents alike. Willusworth, the dean of the maritime academy, stood proudly behind his lectern, dressed in a crimson robe adorned on the chest with a starfish and a compass. The old man removed his cap and handed it to his young assistant, who withdrew to the chairs at the back of the stage — where five other members of the academic staff were already seated.
"Dearest parents. Esteemed presidents of the Pearlmorth Maritime Companies Alliance. And you, dear students — I, Tyldon Willusworth, Dean of the Maritime and Naval Academy of Shin Yorkshire, greet you," began the old man.
Several rows back, the Johntoms couple were watching their boys with tender eyes, while Helga was scanning the auditorium."It's true they have no shame flaunting all their wealth," she commented, eyeing the balconies of the maritime companies."Ex... excuse me," came a voice from behind her.
Helga glanced over her shoulder."Yeah? What is it?""Um... Would you be so kind as to remove your hat, please?" asked a plump woman with a haughty air.
She was draped in a lace dress embroidered with floral patterns and wore a matching hat.
"What?!" Helga choked out, frowning."Yes, your hat!" the plump woman continued."My hat? What's the problem?""Your hat is blocking my view of the dean! Besides, it's not proper to keep your hat on indoors!"
This comment made the aunt grimace.
"Wait a minute — you've got a hat on your head too!""The difference, madam," retorted the woman, "is that I'm wearing a lady's headpiece. You are not!""What!? Oh no, is she mocking me now?!"
Helga was about to stand up and confront the woman in lace, but Henriette's calming hand on her shoulder stopped her.
"My dear Helga, our children are more important than the inappropriate remarks of someone just trying to draw attention to herself, aren't they?""Oh!" gasped the woman in lace, scandalized."Oh, but of course, my dear Henriette!" replied Lurcard's aunt in an overly refined tone.
Helga turned away from the bourgeois woman and focused her attention on Lurcard and Allan. Unfortunately, the two—having witnessed the entire scene—were sinking deep into their seats, trying to avoid the judgmental stares of their fellow attendees. Bill, of course, didn't miss the opportunity to tease them.
"Ahem!" the dean said from the top of his podium, redirecting the audience's attention."We are gathered here today to review and celebrate the training cycle of this year's class of 1018. And to that end, I would like us—teachers, mentors, parents, and company presidents—to give a round of applause to our young students for their seven years of hard work."
Immediately, the entire hall erupted in applause.Some of the students, moved, bowed their heads to hide their embarrassment. Others wore wide smiles, proud of their resilience.
"Yes, be proud of yourselves, students!" Willusworth continued. "Over these past years, you have been taught. Educated. Trained in the knowledge of navigation. In maritime sciences. In ocean cartography. And in the history of our civilization's discoveries. You have been physically prepared for the demands of a life as seasoned men of the sea. That is why I hope you are able to truly appreciate what you have accomplished so far. Bravo!"
All the students nodded in appreciation.
"Since its founding," the dean went on in his speech, "the Shin Yorkshire Naval and Maritime Academy has been committed to training men and women from all walks of life in order to..."
"Men and women?!" muttered Helga from her seat.
"What is it, Helga?" asked Henriette.
"I just can't stand the hypocrisy," she said, frustrated."He says the academy is open to everyone... but forgets to mention that the girls who train here can only hope to become cooks, cartographers, or at best, onboard doctors! And don't even get me started on the cost of tuition! If those kids didn't come from wealthy families, they'd never have this chance!"
Helga stopped talking. She realized that, perhaps, her words had hurt the couple."I didn't mean to offend you," she apologized."No, don't worry, Helga," Henriette reassured her. "Bodwell and I understand.""Without my brother's fortune and your support, he wouldn't be living his dream right now. Thank you—for him," Helga said softly."He's a good boy," Bodwell confided. "He has a bright future ahead of him.""If my brother saw that in him back when he was just a brat... who am I to question it?" she concluded with a smile."Shhh!!" snapped the woman in the lace dress, just behind her.
Helga was about to react, but Henriette gently tapped her on the shoulder.
The aunt returned to the platform, toward the dean.
"... Thus, the students will be called up in pairs to present their reports. These will be graded by members of the academic staff and by the seven presidents of the P.M.C.A," announced Willusworth. "As for the results, they will be released at the end of all the sessions."
Then the dean paused and motioned for four men in crimson uniforms, who were standing at the base of the platform, to come up. The men immediately began to move. They reached the stage via a staircase set into the side of the platform. The men split into two pairs to go to the back of the stage, behind the seats of the academic staff. There, on either side of the stage, two thick ropes hung from the ceiling, reaching the floor. The men grabbed hold of them and pulled. A large white curtain descended, covering the wall. The men remained there, standing at attention.
"As tradition dictates, we will project onto the wall the Sailor's Cover Letter," the dean continued. "This letter, as you know, is the source. The strength. The motivation. The grit. And the fire that burns in the sailor's heart when faced with the perils of the sea. Thus, the Cover Letter remains the compass of the sailor's soul. That is why I would like to thank you, dear parents, for having written your letters so that they may accompany your sons and daughters throughout these exams."
As he listened to the dean's words, Lurcard held in his hands the two letters: one from Bodwell Johntoms and the other from his father. The young man hesitated. He did not know which letter would accompany him during his presentation. His heart was torn. Would he take with him the words of the man who had, more than anyone, proved to be a father to him—or the words of the absent one who lingered on through his legacy?Lurcard didn't know which to choose.
Willusworth ran his hand through his platinum hair while unfolding with the other hand the scroll placed on his desk. With his green eyes, he scanned the contents of the document. Then, his attention shifted toward the auditorium. The old man remained motionless for a moment, which heightened the students' anxiety. They couldn't take it anymore. And finally, the fateful moment arrived when the dean ended the heavy silence.
"When you are called, come up here to the stage with your documents, your Letter of Accompaniment, and your two possible choices for the companies you wish to join," he addressed the students before turning to the others. "Dear parents. Dear presidents of the Alliance of Maritime Companies of Pearlmorth. The first called for this class of the year 1018 are…"