Secret World of Occultists-Chapter 34: Gentleman’s Club

This was a dignified woman with an air of authority around her. Abel felt as is she was piercing through his soul with her sharp, intelligent eyes.

"Abel, this is Mrs. Honoria Whitmore," Henry introduced with a polite smile. He turned to the old lady and continued, "Madam, may I present Mr. Abel Bishop, the newest recruit of the Trust."

"Good morning, Mrs. Whitmore," Abel greeted her, tipping his hat.

Just as the old woman was observing him, he was also observing her. Honoria Whitmore's silver-streaked hair was immaculately arranged beneath a lace-trimmed bonnet.

She was dressed in a high-collared, dark-colored gown with detailed embroidery, and her hands were adorned with antique rings.

"If you stare any longer, dear boy, I shall think you mean to sketch my portrait," the old lady remarked.

"Ah!" In an instant, Abel became flustered. "Sorry, Madam! I didn't mean to offend you."

"Hoho, I jest," Honoria chuckled softly. She deeply gazed at the youth and nodded. "I have read much of those who awakened without the ritual in days long past, but never before have I laid eyes upon one who lived to tell the tale."

Abel remained silent, diaplaying the same polite smile. But inwardly he was thinking incredulously, Everyone keeps talking about old way this and old way that, but no one tells me what it is!

"No doubt you wonder why everyone you meet remarks upon your awakening by the old way, yet none deign to explain what it truly means," the old lady said with a knowing smirk.

Abel's mouth fell open. Needless to say, he was shocked. "You... You can read my mind?!" He exclaimed.

"No, but I can read your face," The lady chuckled heartily.

Abel involuntarily breathed a sigh of relief. He thought that Honoria's Hallmark was related to mind-reading.

"Please, let us head out," Henry extended his hand, gesturing for the two to exit the building.

He led the way, opening the door for the old lady. Once they were outside, he turned to the blue-eyed youth and explained, "Abel, Madam Whitmore is the chief instructor in the occult arts."

Abel's eyes lit up in excitement. "So you're gonna teach me about magic! Cool! I'm really looking forward to it."

"Quite the peculiar manner of speech, this lad," the old lady spoke unhurriedly. "One might suggest that a few lessons in elocution would serve you well, dear boy."

Abel's lips twitched. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he said, "Yes, Madam Whitmore, I, uh... I'm working on it."

Honoria smiled gently, "So long as you make the effort, my dear, the world shall be yours."

Henry turned to the youth and explained, "Madam Whitmore spoke with the Director before your arrival. It has been decided that you shall first begin your studies in the occult, and in a week, once the spirit energy in your body has fully settled, you may commence your physical training."

Abel arched an eyebrow in surprise. He didn't think he'd have to wait another week to start combat training. But if this was what Mr. Kensington had decided, then he would trust his better judgment.

"Alright, sounds good." He nodded. Turning to the old lady, he asked eagerly, "So, Madam Whitmore, where are we going?"

"Hush, hush, dear boy, it is a secret." Honoria placed a finger to her lips, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Abel's lips twitched incessantly at her behavior. "O-Okay."

The trio walked to the private carriage that had been parked right by the entrance of the Trust. Henry helped the old lady board the carriage. Then, he turned to Abel and smiled, "From here on, you're on your own."

"What?" Abel's brows creased a little. "Aren't you gonna come with me?"

Henry shook his head. "I must attend to my combat drills with the security team." He paused for a moment before adding, "Besides, I have already completed my foundational studies in the occult arts under Madam Whitmore."

Although Abel felt that it was a little unfortunate he wouldn't be able to study occult knowledge with his friend, he didn't think too much about it.

Instead, he asked with in an eager voice, "When do you think I'll get to meet the rest of the team?"

Henry's lips formed a smirk, "Very soon, my friend, very soon."

Seeing the mischief in Henry's eyes, Abel became suspicious of him. "What... what do you mean by that? What are you scheming?"

"Who knows?" The dark-haired youth shrugged. He turned around and walked back inside the Trust's building, waving his hand. "Goodbye, Abel. Have fun studying."

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Abel pursed his lips, muttering under his breath. "Yeah, whatever." With that said, he turned around as well and boarded Madam Whitmore's private carriage.

As the carriage started moving, Abel found himself in a rather awkward situation with Honoria Whitmore, who was observing him with her piercing gaze.

"So..." he tried to strike up a conversation. "Are you a full-time Occultist or... are you retired or something?"

"Mr. Bishop," she said, ignoring his question. "I will have you know that I have little patience for ignorance or incompetence. I expect my students to approach the occult arts with the same reverence and precision that I do."

Abel involuntarily straightened his back, nodding seriously. "Yes ma'am. I understand."

"Good." Honoria nodded with a faint smile. "With that out of the way, I would like to know what comes to your mind when you think of the occult."

"The occult, huh?" Abel stroked his chin. He gazed at the old lady and asked meekly, "Isn't it like... magic?"

"Magic? Hah!" Honoria scoffed. "That word has been cheapened by clowns in velvet robes, and by charlatans waving their wands and muttering gibberish for the amusement of half-wits!"

Abel shrunk back in his seat, not having expected the old woman to react that way.

"What we deal with, my dear, is not 'magic'," she added.

"If not magic then what?" The blue-eyed youth asked meekly.

Honoria revealed a faint smile, the aura around her turning mysterious.

"It is knowledge, power, and the hidden laws that govern reality itself."

The carriage didn't take long to reach their destination—only a little less than ten minutes. As the carriage came to a stop, the driver got off from the front and opened the door for them.

Abel was the first to get down, looking around curiously. "Isn't this... Water Street?"

The cobblestoned street was lined with imposing townhouses, banks, and mercantile offices. It was situated near Newport's old dock and the bustling River Nimbus.

It was a place of legitimate business and intellectual discourse.

"Come now, my dear boy." Honoria alighted the carriage with the help of the driver, then strode toward the three-story townhouse with an engraved brass plaque above its entrance.

When Abel gazed at the words carved on the plaque, needless to say, he was taken aback.

"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me," he cursed under his breath as he hurried to follow behind the old lady.

Located at 4 Water Street, this three-story townhouse served as a gentleman's club for Newport's elite intellectuals, scholars, and industrialists, offering luxurious amenities, stimulating discussions, and refined company.

The words carved on the brass plaque above the entrance were as follows:

The Society for Natural Philosophy

Dedicated to the Advancement of Science and Rational Inquiry