Chapter 125: Excellent Work

MARIUS

"Excellent work, gentlemen—and lady, of course."

Falken’s words hung in the air as we—Isabelle, Thomas, Dorian, and I—stood in his office ’at ease,’ with our hearts anything but at ease.

Skylark had been taken away to a recovery room, while Dr. Branson and the masked nurse tended to our wounds. The cut I had suffered wasn’t too deep. Dr. Branson reassured me that it would not cause any permanent damage, except for leaving me a scar that I could wear proudly. Thomas’s right forearm was broken, but he too was lucky. It was a clean fracture, apparently. He’d suffer for longer than I would from my cut, but eventually it should heal, and he should be as strong as ever.

Dorian and Isabelle suffered no injuries.

Once we were treated by the doctor, we were promptly summoned to Falken’s office, where he greeted us with a warm, sympathetic smile. And the praise came after we were told to be at ease.

"The operation encountered unexpected difficulties, and you have done tremendously well to bring the situation under control. We have now arrested all those engaged in illegal activities—with their biggest crime of all being attacking the Royal Knights," he said.

"We were not even actual Royal Knights," Thomas said.

"When you wear the uniform, you have the authority of Royal Knights, young Thomas," Falken explained.

"I didn’t appreciate what happened there," Dorian said this time.

"You did—as part of a team—fantastically, Dorian. I am proud of you."

I saw Dorian cringe from the corner of my eye.

"Did anybody get hurt?" Isabelle asked cautiously.

"What do you think? They were beating on EVERYONE," Thomas grunted. He was clearly dissatisfied.

"Where was that ’Sergeant’ rascal?" Dorian asked.

"Sergeant Becker saved your life, Dorian," Falken said, unmoved.

"He disappeared as soon as we needed him," Thomas raised his voice.

"He brought the much-needed reinforcement in time. Had he left any later, the reinforcement would have come too late. He correctly judged and trusted his students to be able to hold out, and arrived with support right when it was needed. Excellent work, I must say," Falken patiently explained again.

Everybody went quiet for a moment, but perhaps not because they had nothing more to say.

I had one thing that needed to be said, though.

"I am concerned that Skylark was, and is, not ready for such missions, Sir."

Falken suddenly looked amused.

"Indeed. He did pass out during the operation, which would have placed a burden on the rest of the team," he said.

A burden.

That’s not what Skylark was.

"I didn’t mean it that way, Sir."

"Then, Marius, could you please tell me what you’ve seen? What did Skylark do? How did he contribute?"

I knew that Falken knew the answer.

I could not explain how these things happened.

But this wasn’t the first time something inexplicable and mysterious had happened when Skylark was in danger.

First, the night that we got attacked by bandits.

Then the storm and the impossible sights during the survival mission.

Now, again, the impossible fire at the gambling house.

The only constant in all three impossibilities that I had experienced in the past months was Skylark.

But how?

"Tell me again, Marius. How did the fight end?" Falken pressed on.

"The room went dark. Then Sergeant Becker came with reinforcements—at the right time, as you say, Sir," I said.

None of us talked about the impossible fire to Falken. Not Thomas, not Isabelle, not Dorian, and not even I. We didn’t agree to keep it a secret. We just felt, individually and collectively, I suspect, that we should not mention it.

"It is as Marius said," Thomas agreed with me.

"Dorian?" Falken asked.

"The room went completely dark. The lights went out at a very fortunate time. We were lucky," Dorian said.

"And what about you, Isabelle?"

She said nothing, but Falken didn’t let it go. He kept his piercing gaze on her.

After a full ten seconds or so, Isabelle finally spoke.

"Did anybody get hurt... Sir?"

Falken then broke off his gaze. He looked at the ceiling, stroked his chin once, and said,

"Just one fatal casualty. Everybody else was apprehended with minimal resistance. So you guys have done fantastically, I must say."

The air in the room froze with our hearts.

One fatal casualty.

Someone died.

"Sir, what happened?"

I had to ask.

"It wasn’t a Royal Knight, Marius. Don’t worry about it," Falken waved me off with a reassuring smile.

I looked at Thomas. He was visibly distressed. I looked at Dorian. He seemed to have decided he was going to put on the best mask of indifference he could manage. Isabelle, on the other hand, was trembling as she asked,

"How did he die?"

"Preliminary assessment from the medic was suffocation," he said, looking directly at Isabelle, and asked,

"Interesting. Isn’t it?"

Isabelle didn’t say anything. She didn’t move. She even stopped breathing for a few seconds.

Then she turned and walked out of the room.

Falken didn’t stop her.

Thomas chased after her.

Falken didn’t stop him.

Once the two left, Falken said to me and Dorian,

"I said excellent work earlier, gentlemen—but I must also express that I am slightly disappointed."

We stood and stared ahead. Neither of us had a word to say.

"Something extraordinary happened in there. Something I would expect you to tell me about," he said and took a step closer to us, then continued,

"Sergeant Becker reported to me that he saw fire through the curtains before the Royal Knights stormed the place. When they went inside, there was no fire. Care to explain to me what happened or, if you can’t explain it, tell me what you saw?"

Falken knew.

But as my mind was racing, trying to think of ways to phrase my testimony, Dorian blurted out,

"I may be a hound, but I’m not a rat. Woof."

Falken glared at him in a way that I had never seen him do before.

"Marius?" he asked me this time.

"There was fire, but it had nothing to do with any of us, Sir."

"And nobody, and nothing, got burnt. Interesting, isn’t it?"

There was nothing interesting about it.

Seeing that I wasn’t going to say anything further, Falken exhaled slowly and said,

"Dismissed."

Dorian turned immediately and left the room.

I showed courtesy by giving Falken a bow.

"Marius," he said as I raised my head.

"Yes, Sir."

"Thank you for confirming the fire. I don’t blame you for not understanding it."

"Thank you, Sir."

"You and your friends will be rewarded for tonight’s success. Arrange for a trip to your home for this weekend. He will be proud to see you again this time."

I nodded in silence and walked out of the room.

Once outside, I found Isabelle and Thomas in the hallway. They were both leaning against a wall, but as soon as Thomas spotted me, he ran up to me and threw a punch. I saw it coming but didn’t dodge. It landed cleanly on my jaw, and I stumbled from the impact.

"You piece of shit," Thomas spat out.

Proud.

Father will be proud.

Falken said.

"Isabelle didn’t want to do it. And you insisted. It’s YOUR fault."

Moonlight shone through the large window in the hallway. Tall trees that stood outside, with their leaves swaying in the wind, cast shadows that danced on the floor. I felt like I was six years old again. Alone on the cold mountain, surrounded by trees and the darkness that I had to navigate through. Instead of wind against my face, I had been punched by Thomas—a friend. A friend that I didn’t seek to make but who became one after I enrolled in the Academy. I never had a friend before in my life. I never knew what it felt like to fight a friend.

And I never knew what it felt like to lose one.

"I’m sorry," I said.

Thomas grabbed me by my collar and shook me violently. He started yelling in my face, but his words weren’t registering. He punched me a few times too. The pain didn’t register either. I felt numb, numb like a dead tree with no life left in it, only still standing because its roots buried in the ground didn’t let it fall.

As it continued, eventually, Isabelle came around and pulled Thomas away from me, and placed herself between us.

"I’m sorry," I said again.

This time to Isabelle.

But as I said this, my voice cracked.

If I had any life left in me, I might have cried.

"It’s not your fault, Marius," Isabelle said.

"IT IS!" Thomas shouted.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT THE HELL UP!" Isabelle closed her eyes, covered her ears, and screamed.

Thomas and I obeyed.

"I did it, guys," she said.

All of us were, then, just looking at the flickering shadows on the stone floor of the hallway.

"It was me. All me."

Then Isabelle walked away.

Neither Thomas nor I could pursue her.

We didn’t have any right to.