Silent Drum Retreat

Posted on Wed Nov 19th, 2025 @ 20:39 by Claire Cavendish & Cameron Johnston

Chapter: Besieged
Location: Avalon Institute, The Bastions
Timeline: 16:45 the day after the siege
1169 words - 2.3 OF Standard Post Measure

A break in the clouds cast a band of sunlight across the Avalon Institute, gilding its stone walls in fleeting warmth. The rain had passed, leaving the air heavy with the scent of wet earth. Below, the G.O.U. encampment stirred to life. Canvas tents folding in on themselves, engines coughing awake, crates and cables swallowed by lorries bound for elsewhere. On the ramparts, a woman with violet skin and dark hair stirred in the wind. She had never known what freedom felt like, not truly, until she so readily gave it up. A mistake she wasn't prone to making again. She didn’t turn to face the man beside her when she spoke.
"We got lucky this time."

As far as evaluations went, Cameron's squint of hesitation wasn't the most condemning, but it did offer just the faintest of silent queries about the accuracy of that statement. If this was luck, then it was terribly fickle and he'd feel a lot better just chalking it up to having the better people. Or the better cause.

In the hours since the armed forces had retreated, there had been enough work setting the castle back to some semblance of order for Cameron to avoid the inevitable repercussions of refusing to stay dead. His actions, the choice he had made, had caused tension and guilt that were now somewhat wasted and he'd been left with the rather awkward feeling that he ought to apologise for having the audacity to return. He still didn't really know why, couldn't have made the first guess at the kind of powers one kid had access to that could bring a man back from the brink like that, but it wouldn't be the first time in his life that Cameron Johnston had leaned into his own ignorance. It seemed best to leave it all well alone, and even more important not to get too hung up in the lingering sense of wrongness that followed the same kind of logic best applied to infomercials. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

A hand scratched at his shoulder, his arm settled cross-ways across his chest as he watched the movement below.

"Got people talking at least."

"I've got our lawyers working on having all charges dropped against me. Including the escape, in light of circumstances." Claire took a sidestep to be closer to Cameron. The tall man had always been a silent support since the moment they'd met. It didn't feel that long ago and at the same time they'd shared enough challenges to last them a lifetime. It would be nice to be able to return to the drudgery of running a school for gifted youngsters. "You weren't implicated, they think I acted on my own." Another shuffle closer. She could feel his warmth now. "Besides, you were dead at the time."

"Best relegate that to the realm of vicious rumours or there'll be a bunch of awkward questions."

Not only awkward ones but dangerous. There was no mystery around the need for additional security where Ji-an was concerned anymore and keeping the girl's profile low was going to be challenging enough in a school full of curious youngsters who knew perfectly well she'd just aged about 5 years. The last thing they needed was the media getting a whiff of things.

His arm dropped to allow the one closest to her to wrap around her shoulders, a squeeze of reassurance amidst his relentless insistence on joking about even this.

"Plus, think of my reputation. Nobody will ask me to the dance if they find out I'm a zombie."

Claire leaned into the wiry frame of the man, it reminded her that she really wanted to go into town and visit the Corner Bakery. "I've seen you dance, I don't think anyone will make that mistake either way." Her thoughts wandered to how all of this would have affected her father, and by extension the rest of her family. She couldn't imagine it would go over well with his compatriots that the actions of his daughter caused this. "We need to make a thorough check of the grounds, make sure they didn't leave anything behind."

"I think our resident squeaker mentioned something about sending her minions out on the first sweep."

There'd been other conversations, of course, the collective organisation of a particularly exhausted staff to push through the final stages of damage control and secure the castle well enough for the students to at least sleep back in their own beds again. Cameron had caught snippets of it and missed most of the rest, not through any lack of interest but because there had always been an inclination directly after prolonged use of his powers to struggle with resetting his pace. Besides, at least a few of them were definitely avoiding him. He couldn't really blame them.

"Do you think we could sneak off to town?" Claire stepped away from the comforting warmth when she saw some reporter down below spotting them on the wall. She folded her arms and tried to look stoic as she was sure this picture was going to end up in some kind of sketchy paper or magazine. All the big names had packed up and left already. They had deadlines to make. "I could really go for a shepherd's pie and a..." she took a moment, "windshield wiper."

"You know, if you insist on making yours sound more appetising, you're going to get me in trouble."

It earned her a slight jostle sideways at least, the playful jab of a kid brother that rarely missed an opportunity to be a pest. All jokes aside, Cameron knew Claire had a point. There was a miniscule amount of wiggle-room to be claimed from having responsibility for the well-being of a hoard of other people's kids but there was no getting around the fact that the tether had just grown significantly shorter. If he was lucky, Mhairi would let him go to the bathroom on his own but only because that was still marginally more beneficial than duct-taping him to a chair and locking him in a closet.

"I'd say we've probably earned a cupcake or ten," he consented, eyes following the reporter as they tackled a puddle in the quest for the better angle.

Claire reached to her side and took Cam's hand in hers. "Deep breath." She wouldn't be able to get them both all the way to New Cresthill, but away from this wall would be no problem whatsoever. Tom had cleared the barricades erected on the bridge and with the G.O.U. packing up they could take one of the school's cars to make the drive.

A fizzle in the air left the space they just occupied empty, and with a pop the vacuum was filled in their wake. The photographer had just gotten in position to snap his shot, but was now staring through an empty lens.