《Going For Gold》


 Chapter 1: Golden Age

    It¡¯s the first day, the day my life will change forever. Or at least, that¡¯s what my parents say. I¡¯ll spend two years away from home, so I¡¯ve got to make sure I¡¯m prepared.


    I give my new uniform a once-over. It¡¯s a dark blue, one-piece outfit, with long sleeves and a collar. I pop up the collar and roll up the sleeves. If I¡¯m going to travel, I might as well look good doing it. Underneath the suit, I¡¯m wearing a white shirt and underwear. I¡¯m not some nudist nutjob, after all.


    On my feet are a pair of standard issue black boots, perfect for climbing mountains and kicking faces, as well as casual walks in a park. I run my hands through my golden blonde hair, making sure it¡¯s all swept back. I wouldn¡¯t want it falling in my face in the middle of a conversation.


    My hair reminds me of middle school when everyone called me Golden Boy because of my hair, eyes, skin, and teeth. That¡¯s the magic of genetics, I suppose.


    This uniform belongs to the school, Acerico Preparatory Academy. It¡¯s named after a famous Spanish hero, who could shoot spikes out of her skin. This school is for those with ¡®superhuman abilities, which are applicable in enforcing the law and battling those with ill-intent.¡¯ Basically, it¡¯s a superhero training school. I¡¯ll get more into that later.


    I check my school-issue duffel bag, making sure I have everything I¡¯ll need inside it. Seven spare uniforms? Check. An equivalent amount of underwear? Check (thanks Mom). Necessary toiletries? Check. Filing rasp? Check. Driver¡¯s license, with the name Gild Smithson on it, along with my glorious golden face? Check. An unusual amount of gold?


    Not there.


    That¡¯s not good. How am I supposed to go to a school for heroes and show off my powers, if I don¡¯t have any gold? Gold that I spent years pulling from worn-out appliances, cheap jewelry, and the occasional car part. Granted, it¡¯s way easier to find gold when you have a superpower that is related around it and allows you to manipulate it, but it would still take ages to build up the amount of gold that I had packed.


    Now, the amount of gold would¡¯ve looked suspicious if I was traveling in a normal mass transit bus to the school, but luckily enough the academy has a policy where anyone with unusual needs gets picked up by a super-tech bus. So, I might be saddled with some weirdos, but at least I¡¯ll be able to keep my gold.


    Or I would if it wasn¡¯t missing.


    ¡°Mom, you wouldn¡¯t happen to know where my gold is, would you?¡± I call out into the hallway, from where I am in my bedroom.


    My mom, a beautiful woman with absolutely no flaws whatsoever, who would verbally abuse me within an inch of my life if I said otherwise, popped her head in my room with a look of pure innocence on her face.


    ¡°No,¡± she said, you know, like a liar, ¡°But I might have accidentally misplaced it.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I don¡¯t understand how my mother can be so competent in some areas, and so... not in others. If this hadn¡¯t been a trend for the last sixteen years of my life, I might¡¯ve been mad. As it was, I had gotten used to it. I once thought her forgetfulness was supposed to be some kind of test, but the one time she almost left the house wearing nothing but a towel proved otherwise.


    ¡°Alright, Mom, I¡¯ll go look for it. It shouldn¡¯t be too hard; I just have to find the biggest concentration of gold within a five-mile radius.¡± A five-mile radius, meaning a diameter of ten miles and a circumference of about thirty-one, which is the approximate distance at which I can actively sense gold.


    No time like the present, I might as well walk around the house now. Leaving my room, passing by my mother whose face had absolutely no shame regarding her forgetfulness, I walk down the hall, passing my mother¡¯s room, the bathroom, and the laundry room, ending up in the kitchen. There¡¯s some gold in the microwave, the oven, the smoke detector above my head, and a lot of minuscule amounts scattered throughout the kitchen, but none of the big cubes of gold that I want to find. I could check in the foyer, but it¡¯d be quicker to use my power actively.


    Actively using my power is equivalent to flexing a muscle and holding that flex, for the duration of my time using it. As I¡¯ve aged and used my powers more, it¡¯s become much easier than when I first got them. I could barely hold it for a couple of seconds back then, which is laughable to the two hours that I can do now. This little application is nothing.


    As I activate my power, I can feel the gold all around me. From the minute amounts in the wires in the walls to the bits of jewelry in our neighbors¡¯ houses, I can feel it all. My mind quickly locks in on the cubes I¡¯m looking for, which have somehow ended up in the refrigerator. Opening the fridge, I see it¡¯s underneath a packet of kale. My mother must¡¯ve had the gold in her hands when she was making dinner last night.


    ¡°I found it; you put it in the fridge again!¡± I shout to my mother, who retreated into her room when I went into the kitchen.


    I snatch up the four cubes, each one exactly three inches by three inches of compressed gold, which would normally weigh enough to break a normal person¡¯s back. Fortunately enough, with both my gold manipulation and the strength I¡¯ve inherited from my mother, it only feels like I¡¯m holding a small cement block. It sucks that I didn¡¯t get my mother¡¯s full strength, but there¡¯s nothing to be done about it.


    With the gold literally in hand, I can finally be on my way. A quick look at the clock tells me I have five minutes until the bus arrives. I go back to my room and dump the cubes in the bag, thankful that whatever material it¡¯smade of canhold the gold.


    Now that I finally have everything, it istime to say goodbye. With only three minutes left, I knock on my mother¡¯s bedroom door.


    ¡°Mom, I¡¯ve got to go, okay? It¡¯s almost eight.¡± I stand back, bracing myself for what I know is about to happen. It¡¯s the same thing that happened when I decided I¡¯d go to Acerico Preparatory Academy, as well as last night.


    The door bursts open and my mother rushes out, wrapping me in her arms with tears running down her face.


    ¡°Are you sure you have to go? I mean, two years is a long time not to see your mommy. And then you¡¯ll probably get a career where you¡¯ll be fighting people all day long!¡± She sobs, looking up at me with tear-filled eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry mom, but it¡¯s what I want to do since I was little. I¡¯ll be fine, and I¡¯ll call you every month, just like we talked about.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ll tell me everything that happens, right?¡±


    ¡°Of course, of course. Or as much as they let me tell you.¡±


    ¡°Okay. If you have any girl trouble, you can tell me about that too. Oh, I¡¯m so happy, but I wish I could go with you. My baby¡¯s going to be a superhero!¡±


    We hug for a minute more, before I extricate myself from her arms, again promising that I¡¯ll call her, then I runout the door, duffel bag slung over my back.


    A new chapter of my life has begun. Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s a good one.

 Chapter 2: Golden Hello

    Chapter 2: Golden Hello


    With my house behind me, I jog my way over to the bus stop where I would be picked up. The reason why I¡¯m being picked up at a bus stop as opposed to my house is that the school didn¡¯t want to endanger family member¡¯s lives. This is also why, once I get in the academy, access to the outside world will be restricted.


    As I look around the dreary urban area, waiting for the bus, I realize that I won¡¯t be seeing anything like it for at least two years. The four-story cement apartments, the small, cheap houses, even that smell of old diesel hanging in the air; I¡¯ll miss all of it. Most especially, I¡¯ll miss my mom. My friends too, I guess, but most of my friendships had felt superficial. Thinking about it, I chuckle. Everyone always told me how handsome I looked, and I hadn¡¯t even kissed a girl. How silly is that?


    An average looking commercial bus rumbles up to the stop. It¡¯s dark blue, like the uniform I have on, but it looks like it''s been used for quite a few years. With a hiss of air, the door opens, and a plain bus driver looks out at me.


    ¡°Well, get in here. You¡¯ll put your bag in a compartment under yer seat, so don¡¯t worry about it. Come on; we don¡¯t got all day.¡± The gruff bus driver glares at me as I make my way onto the bus. The doors close with another hiss, and the bus is on its way.


    Once I get to the top of stairs, I am stunned. From the outside, it looks like your average bus, but it¡¯s way larger on the inside, like the TARDIS. It has rows of compartments, the kind you¡¯d expect to see on a train, and the floor is a plush carpet. Either the school paid a lot for this bus, or this is just the tip of the iceberg for what they can do.


    ¡°You¡¯re in compartment C3, the middle of the bus, with Kuro Tokumade. Go, shoo, I¡¯ve got driving to do.¡± The gruff driver absentmindedly shoos me away with his hand.


    I guess I¡¯ll be going to C3, then. Looking above the compartment doors, I see different combinations of numbers and letters. Going down the line, it goes from A1 to A9, before going to B1. That means there are at least twenty-one compartments, with two people in each, for a total of forty-two students. That¡¯s assuming that my compartment is the last, which, if my eyesight is right, is not true. The last letter I see is D, so that means thirty-six compartments, in total, if it is the last, meaning at most there will be seventy-two students on this bus.


    According to the brochure, there are two-hundred-and-fifty students per grade, meaning that this bus holds about twenty-nine percent of the school in it. That¡¯s pretty cool.


    This is the point that I realize that standing in front of a door doing mental math is probably not the best use of my time, no matter how fun it is, so I decide to open the door and greet my compartment compatriot. Sliding the door open, I see two beds covered in white sheets, with a small table in between them. Next to the bed is a trash can, and under the beds are wooden containers, which must be where I put my bag. It¡¯s not as cramped as one would expect it to be, looking at it from the outside, but that¡¯s probably more dimensional weirdness.


    One of the beds is empty; the other is occupied by a Japanese guy with black hair and back eyes. When I say black eyes, I don¡¯t mean his irises are black, I mean each of his eyes are black, bottomless pits of despair. He¡¯s wearing the same uniform as me, laying back on the bed with his shoes scattered on the floor. I can only assume this is Kuro Tokumade.


    ¡°Hey there! I¡¯m Gild Smithson, and if I have this right, I¡¯ll be your roommate for this trip. You are Kuro Tokumade, yes?¡± I greet him in my friendliest voice with a smile on my face, trying to make a good first impression. Even if I never see him again, it never hurts to be nice.


    He nods in response, before going back to a book he was reading. Oh well, you can¡¯t win ¡®em all. I go over to my new bed, reaching down and pulling open the compartment under it - a compartment in a compartment, how funny. I take my bag off my back, then drop it in the box. Unzipping it, I reach inside, grabbing one of the gold cubes and an energy bar. I didn¡¯t eat breakfast earlier, and now is as good a time as any.


    I slide the container back into its spot before plopping myself on the bed. It¡¯s pretty nice, for something that probably is probably used about once a year. I reach down and untie my shoes, placing them gently next to each other next to the bed. I carefully unwrap the energy bar and eat it, before throwing away the wrapper. It wasn¡¯t filling, but it would do. I hadn¡¯t thought to bring a book, so all I have is my gold to play with.


    I¡¯m holding the gold in my hand, about to use my power, and the sliding door is slammed open. In front of the now open door stands an aquamarine girl in a power stance. She has large blue eyes, a wide mouth, and shoulder length, seaweed green hair. On her neck is a series of odd flaps which, if I were a betting man, I¡¯d say are gills. As she stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips in a classic power stance, I could see a thick fish tail hanging down. She must have a custom uniform, to let her tail stick out.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°What¡¯s up, neighbors? I¡¯m Molly Fisher and I¡¯m bored, wanna talk?¡± Having finished her unusual entrance, she stares at us expectantly. Kuro glanced at her, a glance that had more malice in it than any villain¡¯s eyes could ever hold, before going back to his book. Molly then turns to her gaze to me, at which point I realize I should probably respond.


    ¡°Hello, I¡¯m Gild Smithson, it¡¯s nice to meet you. This silent fellow to my right is Kuro Tokumade,¡± I say while pointing to Kuro. ¡°Maybe we could talk outside the compartment? I don¡¯t want to be a bother.¡±


    ¡°Sure, that¡¯s fine. Not like I need to know everybody.¡± Molly stops talking to blow a bubble with the bubblegum that I hadn¡¯t noticed she¡¯d been chewing. I put my boots on and walk out of the compartment, making sure to close the door behind me. No need to bother Kuro with my useless chatter.


    ¡°Alright, Goldie Locks, let¡¯s share powers and talk about our lives. I¡¯ve got water-breathing, enhanced swimming, and super endurance, along with the ability to spray water out of my hands and mouth. I like metal, long swims in the ocean, and punching jerks in the face. Your turn.¡±


    Still reeling from that tidal wave of information, I managed to eek out a reply, ¡°I have gold manipulation, enhanced constitution and strength, plus a resistance to heat, and a lot of acids, thanks to my golden body. I like new wave rock, doing math, and stretching my limits.¡±


    As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to punch myself. ¡®I like doing math¡¯?! That sounds so stupid, and nerdy to boot! And what kind of hippy bull is ¡®stretching my limits¡¯? AH! Well, first, let¡¯s just see how she¡¯s reacted, and hope the panic didn¡¯t show up on my face.


    ¡°New wave, huh? I could never get into myself. Who¡¯s your favorite band?¡± Molly¡¯s face shows no indication that she thinks anything I said was weird. Good.


    ¡°Definitely CRX. They¡¯re pretty new, but they¡¯re music is awesome. How about you?¡± Chill response, perfect.


    ¡°I dunno. Metallica is pretty sweet, as is Iron Maiden, but everybody likes them. I guess I don¡¯t really have a favorite. Oh, but Through the Fire and Flames is my favorite song, by far.¡± Molly leans against the wall, absentmindedly blowing a bubble.


    Now that we¡¯re closer together, I can better see how she looks. Not in a creepy way, I mean, just in the cursory glance way. Her hair hangs loosely off her head, probably because of her water powers. Around her neck lay what looked like a golden necklace that disappeared into her uniform.


    ¡°Hey, watch the eyes, Goldie. I know we¡¯re getting friendly, but not that friendly.¡± Molly glares at me, which is only accentuated by her large eyes.


    ¡°Huh? Oh! No no no, I didn¡¯t mean anything like that, I mean, I was just¡­ I was looking at your necklace is all. Gold, right?¡± I frantically reply, hoping she doesn¡¯t think I¡¯m some kind of pervert. I don¡¯t want to be ¡®that guy.¡¯ Not that Molly isn¡¯t good looking, it¡¯s just that I didn¡¯t think anything in that kind of way when I looked at her chest. I wasn¡¯t looking at her chest, though. Just the necklace. Only the necklace. Yes, of course.


    ¡°Oh, this old thing? It¡¯s nothing, something my mom forced me to bring. I guess I¡¯ll let you look at it, but you better not judge me for it or something, got it?¡± Molly bares her surprisingly sharp teeth at me, her threat of retribution obvious. She did say she enjoyed punching people in the face. I hope I¡¯m not put in her jerk list.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dare.¡± I say, with a grin that hopefully looks reassuring enough. The last thing I want is to get sucker punched by this girl, even with my gold body.


    ¡°Good.¡± Molly then reaches into her suit and pulls out the entire necklace. It¡¯s quite long, with a cross hanging on the end of it. So that¡¯s why she was so serious about this. The girl who likes rock and acts like a rebel has a super religious mom. Well, we all have our little secrets, even I have some skeletons in the closet.


    ¡°Hmm, nice cross. The gold is especially pure, must be twenty-four karats. Where did your mother get it?¡± Molly gave me a confused look, perhaps she was expecting a different question? I was just trying to make conversation.


    ¡°I dunno. She told me it was a family heirloom that brought her good luck. Currently, this has brought me nothing of the sort, but she did only give it to me this morning, along her a list of stern warnings. And when I say list, I mean she has literally printed out a list.¡± Molly rolls her eyes, probably thinking something that would go against one of those stern warnings.


    ¡°Can I see it? Might be fun to make fun of it.¡± I give her my best impish smirk. The smirk was my key to success, as she says she¡¯ll be back, because it sounded like a great idea. Achievement Get: New Friend! I am such a loser. But a loser with an acquaintance, so that¡¯s got to count for something. I stand against the wall for a few more seconds, hearing sounds of rummaging through the doorway on my right. Actually, why am I standing out here? Molly¡¯s compartment is literally feet away. I gather up my courage, walk in front of the door, and prepare to knock. I¡¯m not going to do what Molly did, both because I want to be the nicer person, and because if anything compromising is happening, I want my face to stay how it is.


    I raise my hand to knock. Let¡¯s hope nothing bad happens.