Lestrade Academy

36. Hidden

Chapter 36 :

Hidden

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Winter holidays have started, but I wasn't going home. I told my paremts that I had some tests as soon as the holidays ended and I wanted to study and that Lestrade Academy allowed me and a few more students to stay, so I wouldn't be going home. They agreed gladly, hoping I'd concentrate on my grades... Only if they knew that I could never concentrate on my grades again. As soon as we found the thing that Vladimir Lestrade had left, I'd be leaving for good. It was sad really that I sounded like a suicidal teenager that was planning her death, but I wasn't going to die anytime soon. Nope, I couldn't make Terry so happy.

The next day from Christmas Nick and I were called to the training hall to actually train this time. They wanted us to be aware of our powers and the ways of using them. We were training on water, metal, mind control, even flying! No, we haven't flied, it was more like telekinesis as we used it against furniture. After an hour or so, I took a seat in the very far corner of the hall to have a rest. Nick was still talking to the principals about the things he could cure and things he couldn't cure, so I was left alone. Feeling bored, I stood up and came to the bookshelf at the wall next to me. I saw a writing on the edge of one of the books: Vladimir Lestrade. Intrigued, I, of course, took out the book. On the cover of the book there was a portret of Vladimir Lestrade himself. I've always imagined him as Albus Dumbledore 2, with a beard and maybe a crooked back or a stick that would help him to walk, but right now there was a picture of handsome man in front of me. He had light chestnut hair which was a little longer than it was supposed to, a few of his curls falling to his face. His face had a shape of a heart, with his clenched jaw long and strong. His eyes were light grey, somewhere between baby blue and white. His nose was small and cute, like a nose of a baby. He had huge, pink lips and a small line of beard under it. His forehead was totally clear of wrinkles and his clothes were a little too old-fashioned for 50s-70s.

"How old was he?" I called out, turning around to face the principals, "Vladimir. How old was he?"

Mr. Rockets came closer to me and took a book in his hands, staring at it thoughtfully, "He was in the history of Silvas from the very beginning. In 50s, he was first recognized and pointed finger at, since almost all of the Silvas knew about him - that's where the main legend comes from. But if you dig deeper, you'll find mentions of a young man dressed as a lord that could control the world in almost all of the cultures."

"So he was a world old?"

He smiled at me kindly, "Probably."

"Look out!" Nick called out and, turning to him, I saw a red book flying towards me. Trying to avoid it at any costs, I jumped to the side, clutching the first thing that came to hand: a wall chandelier. Obviously, it couldn't be steady enough to hold me, so it broke off and I landed on my back. Nick was by my side the next second, at the same time as the loud noise came out of nowhere. "What was that?" Nick asked to himself more, than us.

By the help of his hand I stood up and we all stared at the bookshelf that made quiet thunder noises. I looked over at the chandelier that I thought was broken to find it turned upside down instead. None of us made a sound as we all looked closely at the bookshelf that kind of moved on its own and came out of its frame. We saw the whole bookshelf back off and then slowly move aside, opening a door to us.

Some kind of light was coming from the inside. We peeked in to find a room as big as the training hall itself, but all covered in thick layers of dust and spider webs. In the centre of the whole room that had a shape of a circle, stood a huge desk with a chair. Each book and thing on the desk looked colorless out of all the dust on them. The whole wall - the room was circle-shaped, so there was only one wall - was covered with shelves and each shelf was full with books. Vladimir Lestrade had to be one hell of an organized person, because each shelf had a paper stuck to it with a writening on it of what books laid there. The writenings were in Latin, though.