[???? Material Girl – MADONNA.]
After another short momentous week, which had gone by so fast according to Rafel's timepiece, the long, swanky yacht that toured the islands to pick up students of the Corynthian Academy of Witches, by acronym [C. A. W] finally appeared on the vast blue waters early on the morrow of the first moon.
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It was an auspicious holiday; Rafel knew because Ravenna actually kept a countdown on some worn, ancient calendar she found in the Abbey's library.
However, when Rafel looked at the drying scripts, all he saw were stars and the tidbits, constellations.
"You guys, come on! The yacht's here, and I think we're the first on board."
Rafel heard Ravenna calling from outside. It was about seven in the morning, but the skies were still the soft blue of fading night above. Rafel gave the comfy Abbot's chambers he had called home for a fortnight now one final glance. He picked up a tiny book for their travels and softly closed the door.
The Book of Souls was safely tucked in a towel in a hidden compartment of his khaki military duffel.
Rafel found a bunch of their collective luggage waiting on the gold steps at the entrance. Rosa was looking behind to the rise of the pagoda behind. She had a wistful smile on her pretty face, warm and cute. "I'm going to miss this holy place. I wish we had more time to scour the secrets of Saint Tomasina and her monks."
"I bet Sekhmet and Blue can manage that," Rafel answered.
WOOF!
The blue wolf yipped, hopping around Rosa's legs.
She laughed and squatted to stroke the [Guardian] dog's soft fur. Rafel watched her a moment before turning his sight to the silhouette of the large yacht on the open water. It was anchored close to the shores.
From the steps of the Abbey, Rafel could see through the woods and palm trees; the several uniformed butlers working in prim decorum to move their luggage from the carriages landing on the beach, ferried in small boats to the waiting ship, before dragged up by ropes of a fine crew to be hauled into the cargo bay.
Their shiny boots were waterproof as the muddled on the white beach sands. All of them were in the employ of the [C. A. W], which made Rafel wonder just how much money the school had.
He didn't hurt his head on it. The students of the academy were sons and daughters of Eldorian high nobilty, multi millions in the treasury, trust fund babies, and notoriously wealthy bourgeoisie.
'Who am I to complain? I'm stupid rich too.'
As he rode in the decorated buggy with the girls to the beach where they would board, the distant lights of the yacht twinkled in his amber irises like stars. It was a flattering neon. Sekhmet also rode with them, wanting to be there to bid the final farewell and offer the last wet kiss. The closer the carriage got to the shore, the bigger the yacht seemed to grow.
This was why he loved his millions; it afford him the utmost luxury.
Rafel stood there, at the silver rail, watching Rosa and Ravenna gossip about their new school; Aya woo a miserable ship Captain; and even when the yacht stopped at other neighboring islands to pick up other admitted students. About thirty more prospective Magicians in the making flooded the exotic space. And Rafel could see in their upturned, roman noses the air of heir apparents.
They loved being waited on by the servers.
Rich kids were quite similar, despite their urge to be posher than the other—if you knew what to look for.
Rafel remained in his corner, refusing to socialize. One look at his infernal gold eyes, and the nosy bimbos let him be. There would be plenty of time to make friends later, he mused. For the moment, he just wanted to enjoy the ocean and people watch. He tried not to think of Cora as the blue sea danced before him like the swirly pools of her eyes.
One more blaring reason to ace his studies at the [C. A. W]: VENGEANCE.
'It will be swift and brutal.'
'IT MUST.' his subconscious agreed with him.
The yacht Captain, whose name was strangely Capítan, came forward in his white marine beret and nodded to the scholars. His eyes were patient to their questions for he knew they were spoiled, and all of them used to being pampered and dotted on. He lifted his timber voice to rise above the sea waves and encouraged them to their vices.
"The morning is fair, ladies and gents. The winds are in our favor. All of you are now aboard THE MARINA. Our harbor in a few hours is to be the ports at mainland Corynthia, where caravans will be waiting to bus you off to the Academy. But first, how about a pleasure trip round the island, huh?"
The students looked at one another.
"Yatch rides are supposed to fun, am I right?" The Captain boomed.
"YES!" A herald of teen voices assented. They raised silver flutes of wine and cheered, their young spirits ever open to the idea of a party.
The captain, Capítan, in his slick ponytail and silver beard lifted his hand to be heard above the chatter.
"So please, my dear friends, look around, put on some music, breathe the scent of the sea; there's a pool in the west area. The Marina is totally for your use. At least before you dip into grievous studies, let's have some fun, SHALL WE?
How 'bout that?!"
"FUCK YEAH!" A pierced boy in a mohawk yelled and jabbed his hand in the air.
Rafel observed silently as the Captain collected a flute from a nearby server and raised his glass.
"YACHT PARTY!!!" Someone yelled and a round of festive commotion arose. Clothes flew in the air, and somehow, bikinis materialized.