Chapter 17

Their eyes were haunted.

Jaded.

For weeks, Sachiel stared into their lifeless eyes, fathoming and speculating how a living soul could appear so dead. So dead, yet still harboring flames of vile immorality. Dead eyes were set upon faces so dirty, race became ambiguous and the level of depravity committed became the only way to identify each man and woman.

Lord Josiah had assigned him to Region 0.

Region 0, and all its glory, contained prisoners of both Igni and Unda descent within its mighty walls. Personally, if Sachiel had his way, he'd eliminate the pathetic souls who committed crimes messily enough for others to witness and execute a prosecution. Truly, who hasn't committed a crime? A mere murder?

Nobles evaded punishment frequently, though he supposed they were smarter than the commoners inside those walls. Smarter and far more prestigious. Unfair, certainly, but the kingdom couldn't have criminals running amok, could they? There had to be limitations.

Region 0 had deplorable living situations, yet they had a semblance of freedom. Freedom through manual labor. They cultured crops and livestock and built a great deal of things for the people of Concordia. As King Calder said, it was more productive having working prisoners than wasting capable hands by hanging them at the noose.

Still, it cost valuable resources keeping them caged inside those walls. Security, gold, food, and manpower all poured into Region 0.

Lord Josiah claimed he wanted Sachiel to assess the situation in Region 0, to affirm things were running smoothly under the new warden. However, once the three-day assignment turned into several weeks, Sachiel recognized the assignment as punishment for his intimate conversation with Prince Ezra.

The food was terrible, the military accommodations were common, and Sachiel constantly had to separate petty quarrels. Such ugly surroundings were unacceptable. He could have entreated to King Calder. The Concordia King would have immediately removed him from Region 0. However, Sachiel waited patiently.

He wanted to see how long it would take Ezra to recognize the sway he held over Josiah. Currently, as he stood gazing into the enchanting, pale eyes, Sachiel wondered if, even now, the boy truly comprehended how much Josiah doted on him.

Doted.

Sachiel knew the Igni man would fall to his knees for the boy. Yet, with that knowledge, Sachiel grew apprehensive. Lord Josiah would surely recognize his behavior as a weakness and try to level the playing field. Just as long as Ezra emerged from the other side, breathing and bleeding, Josiah would not be above putting the boy through misery.

"What, exactly, did you agree to give Lord Josiah in return for my homecoming?"

Ezra's eyebrow quirked, just barely. "We haven't finalized the details just yet."

The young man was such a pretty sight to come back to.

Sachiel arrived at the capital several days earlier. Just yesterday, one of Josiah's puppets contacted him and requested he report to the academy to train Ezra. He was not a fool. With lessons situated in the main arena of the academy, Josiah, or one of his henchmen, had many areas to observe undetected. The stands were massive and the observational windows above were tinted and obscured.

Josiah would not allow him total leeway with Calder's royal heir.

Understandable, yes.

Ideal? Certainly not.

Standing across from Ezra, he contemplated the boy. Dressed in his training uniform, he appeared at ease and prepared to absorb his teachings. Sachiel immediately focused on the black braid hanging forlornly from the cadet's sword.

"I heard about Wayde," Sachiel said hollowly. "A pity."

It truly was. Wayde, like Kai, possessed high standing in the aristocratic world. Both of them had different ideals, different opinions from the norm. They'd bonded since childhood over their distaste of their fathers. Together, they would have made the political court tremble.

Ezra shifted. "An unnecessary death," he murmured quietly. "But a death that was not meaningless. It served a purpose."

"A purpose that shouldn't have been needed in the first place." Sachiel stepped towards Ezra. "I was told Kai ignored your attempts to unify the team for weeks. It is disappointing to learn he needed a death of a good friend to remedy his ways."

Indeed, when Sachiel returned to the capital, Seaton Edlen informed him that Wayde's father went on a rampage after his son's death. The man wanted the names of Wayde's teammates. He wanted revenge. Moreover, he wanted revenge against Josiah for allowing a mission of such magnitude.

Sachiel reminded Seaton that Ervin Devereux spoke of treason by threatening Josiah—even in such context. He also reminded the man that cadets were legally bound to serve the military as long as their names were on the enlistment documents. They pledged their lives. Their freedom. All for Concordia and their military. Missions were a normal occurrence.

Sachiel then learned Devereux's temper stifled after a surprise visit from Kai Edlen. Apparently, the boy had approached Devereux and personally shouldered the blame of Wayde's death.

The boy's maturity these past few weeks impressed Sachiel greatly. Pleased him beyond measure.

During his run-in with Kai at the Edlen manor, the boy also told him a few interesting things about Ezra—Micah.

"Kai had his reasons." Ezra was a picture of calm.

"Fear of alienation in the political courts by choosing you over his noble peers? Yes." Sachiel studied the boy's blue-blooded features, trying to engrain them forever in his memory. "Nonetheless, what happened with Wayde further alienated him." He shook his head, desiring to change the subject. It was morbid and it did not fit the mood he wished for their first lesson.

"Kai also informed me that Lord Josiah's captain attacked you with Dulcis Waters."

Ezra excelled at appearing bored and impassive, though he also possessed an aura of tantalizing mystery. He'd be a master in court. Sachiel vowed to stay close enough to see Ezra grace the politicians with his charismatic presence. His angelic features would fool them. The boy possessed a sharp tongue and he was particularly intelligent. Considering his parentage, his ancestry, really, it did not surprise Sachiel that Ezra was a natural born politician.

Sachiel just needed to educate him a bit more. Take away the outskirt-region naivety and give him a taste of the corruptness of the capital.

On the other hand…

Perhaps Sachiel was just as fooled with that pretty face as any other. After all, Lord Josiah was Ezra's uncle and Chosen. They most likely interacted often. Did Ezra possess far more depravity than Sachiel presumed? He had seen a glimpse of something sinister weeks ago at the academy's garden maze.

He hungered to see it again. Craved it, even.

Such a sentiment was often beneath him.

"Yes. A minor grudge. An act of retribution." Ezra pressed his lips together and offered a semblance of a smile. It was deliciously dark. "I took his hand. He wanted to drown my lungs. A fair trade, I imagine."

"Kai claimed he was gone by the time you arrived at Lord Josiah's base." He narrowed his gaze, watching the boy closely. "I assume you are upset at his disappearance."

Ezra watched him just as closely, perhaps noticing his sly insinuating. "Josiah is hunting for him."

Just as Sachiel assumed. Unknowns to both Ezra and Kai, Clarence was presently at the capital and still serving under Josiah as his captain. Fascinating. Obviously, Sachiel was not privy to all the information, but he wondered what Ezra's reaction would be when he found out his Chosen was keeping truths from him.

No matter. He'd see soon enough.

He looped a single finger around the edge of Ezra's belt and pulled the boy forward. Subtly, he inhaled the young man's scent, finding pleasure in such a trivial act.

The boy smelt of fire. Of heat.

Very faint, but identifiable.

Such a scent was painfully familiar to Sachiel during the war. He boasted the ability of smelling the fire Elementals long before they made an appearance. Undoubtedly, the faint traces on Ezra were a result of Lord Josiah's smothering. Sachiel chuckled under his breath as he unhooked the prince's sword holster.

Maliciously, he wondered how Josiah would maintain his greedy claim on Ezra when the boy no longer attended the academy.

After all, Calder would be most pleased to have his son again after so long. Unlike with Ladon, Calder's bastard son, whom temporarily reserved the position of an uncrowned and undeclared heir, Sachiel doubted Calder would allow Ezra to attend the academy. Someone conceived for such a vital position as Ezra's would be best kept protected.

Upon brief deliberation, Sachiel supposed, with being Ezra's Chosen, Josiah would find no qualms maintaining his proximity to the royal heir. No matter Calder's gripes.

Ezra tilted his head, his gaze calculating as he silently surveyed Sachiel removing his sword holster.

"You will not need this for quite some time." He threw the sword across the mats and turned his back. "Are you familiar with the staff?"

Picking up the weapon, he threw it at Ezra.

The boy caught it expertly and adjusted it correctly.

Yes. He knew.

"Unda warriors prefer fighting with the staff. We will get you accustomed to the form before starting you on the sword." He raked his eyes down the young man's agile stature. "I don't anticipate it will be long." Whomever trained the boy did so well. "I will test your reflexes and your speed." Sachiel grabbed his own staff, eager to spar. "Other than your fighting style mirroring Lord Josiah's own, I don't know much about your boundaries. Your weaknesses."

Originality was another reason Sachiel wanted to teach the royal heir.

As a child of both Unda and Igni descent, and as a necessary bridge between both communities, it would not be enough for him to emulate just one race. He needed an advantage over his uncle and father. As of now, the boy could merely pass as a young Josiah.

Surely, both Calder and Josiah would prey upon this particular fact.

That was unacceptable.

Sachiel vowed to teach the boy the importance of using his diverse background to his advantage. He needed to be stronger than Calder and Josiah. He needed to master both styles and create something new.

Something unpredictable.

Ezra twirled the staff in his hand and lowered into a defensive stance. His pale eyes sparkled with a sensation Sachiel knew all too well. Eagerness. Anticipation. Sachiel knew the royal heir would be bloodthirsty in combat mode. He heard it from Kai and he saw evidence of it himself. In answer, Sachiel's fingers tightened on his staff, trying not to let the male temptress distract him.

He had a reputation to uphold, after all. He needed to knock the royal heir off his feet to show the boy he was worthy enough to be his master.

As he feinted and lunged, he realized the task might not be so easy.

Ezra was no typical student.

Ezra was shorter, though as Sachiel went underneath to block the boy's—the young man's—overhead strike, he had to direct his eyes upward. Ezra gazed down at him, his eyes half-lidded with controlled predatory glee.

Sachiel felt his pulse speed up as he hastily redirected his approach.

Not a student, but an opponent.

The young man was fast. Quick. While Sachiel's unfamiliar attack and fighting style took the other man off-guard, he had a rapid recovery and a fierce stubbornness. Energy. Quiet passion. Sachiel couldn't quite remember experiencing such battle hunger from any other. The Igni form was ingrained in every aspect of the younger man's movements.

Sachiel was very familiar with the Igni style. He knew how to defend himself against it. Yet, as he countered, Ezra demonstrated an unheard of resiliency.

He'd aimed to knock the man off his feet.

Only, Ezra was like a feral cat.

Graceful and determined to land on his feet each and every time.

Sachiel's slammed his staff against the back of Ezra's legs, knocking the young man off his feet. For good measure, he aimed a hit at Ezra's chest, hoping to catch him in the air and put him down for good. Only, Ezra blocked the attack to his chest and determinedly twisted his body in the air, landing on one foot and pivoting around to reinstate his stable footing. Sachiel released a low breath and distanced himself, steadily circling the young man.

A miniature Josiah, indeed.

Just as frustratingly persistent as his uncle. Just as tenacious as his father.

A mess of proud and thoroughbred genetics. Poor boy.

Sachiel adjusted his hold on his staff, amused despite himself. "Who was your instructor?"

Ezra did not watch him circle, yet his set shoulders indicated he paid special attention to Sachiel's every move. "His name is Atesh Idris."

Alarm washed Sachiel cold.

He hadn't thought the man survived. His steps faltered for just a moment, though he recovered lest Ezra take notice of his surprise.

"Lord Josiah's man. A very infamous warrior during the war," Sachiel informed with reluctant deference. He had noticed the distinct pride in the young man's tone upon speaking his master's name. Clearly, Ezra thought highly of the man. Who wouldn't? "Many claim he taught Lord Josiah how to fight as well. It is no wonder you share the same fighting style as your uncle."

"Josiah trusted him, then," Ezra stated.

Sachiel eyed the royal heir skeptically, wondering how much the man truly knew. While Ezra did a fabulous job veiling his intrigue, Sachiel couldn't help but to sense palpable waves of curiosity hit him across the face. Was it supposed to stay private? He did not mind infuriating Lord Josiah by speaking and mingling with Ezra, but when it came to past betrayals, he acknowledged it was not his place.

Unfortunately, for Ezra, Lord Josiah probably wasn't too forthcoming with details.

"I do not know much about Idris and Lord Josiah," Sachiel informed.

Ezra slowly looked at him from over his shoulder. Other than intense scrutiny, Sachiel could not discern any sort of emotion on the young man's expression. He tried not to shift under the stare, somehow feeling as if he were being judged, as if his skin peeled back to reveal layer by layer for proper inspection.

"Do you truly not know much about the situation?" Ezra inquired quietly. "Or has Josiah successfully tucked your tail between your legs?"

Sachiel stared.

Then he preened.

Oh, the young man was lovely.

"Come." Sachiel adjusted his staff. "We are not through sparring."

Ezra swung his staff and lunged at him. Remaining cool and collected in face of the other man's furious and impressive attacks, Sachiel quickly took hold of the situation. He'd gotten a feel for Ezra's strengths and weaknesses. Now it was time to take the upper hand and move forward.

He caught Ezra across the ribs unawares and disarmed him.

Almost too easily.

Pain rippled across Ezra's face as he went down hard. As his hand reached for his chest, his long-sleeved tunic pulled back marginally, allowing Sachiel a glimpse of red, healing flesh across his wrists, just above his gloves. Ezra shot to his feet within seconds of landing, appraising Sachiel with a renowned sense of respect and appreciation.

Sachiel, however, continued to stare at the mat, his mind processing what he'd just witnessed. Kai told him Ezra saved him from the brunt of a fire Elemental's flames by simply tackling him to the ground and covering him. Moreover, the attack with the Dulcis Waters happened long enough ago that a water Elemental would have healed all damage done. All wounds.

His mind immediately placed the pieces together.

Varuna, Sachiel cursed the god with true surprise.

Ezra was immune to the elements.

"I would have dropped far earlier if we were using swords," Ezra admitted, his eyes appraising Sachiel with interest. "I suppose you are worth keeping around."

Sachiel refocused on Ezra immediately, holding his tongue from accusations, questions, and foolish remarks. The speculations entering his mind were rather wild, however. He was brimming with curiosity. He wanted to know more.

"It is you who is worth keeping around," Sachiel managed to say.

Ezra's eyes narrowed just marginally. "Is something wrong?"

Smart boy. "Everything is just fine. Remarkable, even."

Indeed, they were just fine. For once, Sachiel could not foresee the future, could not anticipate what was to come. What should have unnerved him, simply excited him.

* * * *

Micah walked into his team's quarters, only to find a bottle of liquor stuffed quickly underneath the bed. Six faces peered at him innocently and he stared back, not knowing whether to enter the room or retreat and study in the library.

This did not look promising.

"It's only Egan." Kai grabbed the bottle from underneath the bed and motioned towards the door with an impatient hand. "You can shut the door, desert rat."

Viktor snickered and held out a glass. "We're celebrating."

He should have retreated when he had the chance.

Instead, Micah closed the door behind him. "What is there to possibly celebrate?" He didn't mean for his tone to be abrasive, though it had been a long night and his chest burned near his ribs. While the team got along far better than originally, they still had a long ways to go. Nowhere near the celebratory mark.

"Wayde's birthday," Cain informed sadly.

Micah watched as Kai poured a small amount of amber liquid into a glass before sliding it across the floor. Micah stared down at the offering before looking up and locking eyes with the blond noble. Tonight was the first time Kai graced them with their presence in over a week.

Kai lifted his glass in a silent toast before taking a sip.

"Plus Kai is leaving us."

Micah narrowed his sights on Viktor as the boy tipped back the liquid, a chaser to his loud revelation.

A silence hung in the air after the admission and Micah realized they were all looking towards him, anticipating his reaction. They'd already known. Talia sat on a low bunkbed, near the circle of men lounging on the ground. Next to her sat a glass of untouched liquor. She clutched a textbook as if she wanted to absorb it, though her attention was focused intently on Micah.

He sighed and grabbed the glass at his feet. "And we are… celebrating his departure?"

Kai leaned against Talia's bed. "We're celebrating Wayde. I'm not leaving until the end of term. No need to get all choked up just yet."

Micah bypassed Keegan and settled on the mattress next to Talia. She stiffened but did not protest his proximity. It was frustrating how reserved she was with the team. Though Cain was just as quiet, Micah knew Talia carried something on her shoulder. Perhaps with time, she'd soften.

"So you've decided to help your father in court."

In anticipation of a civil uprising with the Terra Kingdom. The speculation was still hard to swallow for Micah. It disappointed him, really. Here, he thought he'd uncovered the secret to a long-lasting, peaceful community. He supposed he could monitor the situation through Josiah. It was a relatively safe topic for them to discuss and it had the potential to be educational.

He also imagined Josiah would be upfront about the Terra Kingdom, unlike other topics, such as Idris. No matter. Sachiel proved to know something. If Micah could somehow break Sachiel down, he could find out Idris' past discretions.

Kai smirked. "My father said my reputation has already suffered enough during my first term at the academy. He can't imagine me staying for all three years." He gazed down at his glass. "I agreed to attend court with him if I could finish the fall term. Becoming active in politics is something I do want to explore. It is sooner than I imagined, but it will do."

Viktor took another swig of liquor, his face pinched and grey. He was clearly upset with the news, as was Cain, who mulled somberly at his side. Keegan and Aiden shrugged as Micah looked their way.

"I heard Councilman Sachiel is teaching you the Unda form," Kai said. Perhaps it was his way of changing the subject. He accomplished the task brilliantly as all eyes refocused on Micah. "He told me today at the manor."

Viktor snorted. "Tread carefully with Sachiel, Micah."

Here, the boy winked.

Kai turned venomous eyes in Viktor's direction. "Don't disrespect him," he reprimanded sharply. "He's a good man. A very respectable master and combative warrior."

"I'm not disrespecting him," Viktor protested lamely. "But you knew all about Sachiel before he started training you. I think Micah should know about him before he places too much trust in the man."

At the mention of gossip, Aiden eagerly leaned forward. "What about him?"

Normally not one to participate in gossip, Micah found himself interested in hearing more. He hadn't thought Sachiel had any sort of taint to his name. Aristocrats clearly respected the man enough to hire him to teach their esteemed heirs. According to Sachiel himself, Calder had even hired him to tutor him—Ezra— as a young child. He'd also instructed Ladon.

Kai and Viktor shared a look, the former severe and the latter a bit too tipsy.

"Just that he fiercely despises women. Finds them vile. He—"

"I think that's a bit extreme, don't you think?" Kai interrupted harshly.

"I think it's a fair and reasonable observation." All eyes turned to Talia, who'd surprisingly sided with Viktor. Closing her book, she sat up, clearly passionate about the current topic.

"Talia," Kai said somberly. "It's not like that."

"Sachiel comes from a long line of aristocrats," Talia began, ignoring Kai's attempted placations. "Before the war, he never showed much interest in settling down with a respectable noblewoman. Social circles claimed he had scandalous affairs with married men and young, notable warriors. At the time, he was single, so no one truly ostracized him for his behavior."

Keegan snorted.

Micah couldn't exactly blame him. It sounded silly.

"After the war, Sachiel became infamous for his skills. He returned a war hero and a legend. Yet, even that wasn't enough for his father." Talia grimaced. "Like many other nobles, the head of the family will refuse an heir the inheritance if they do not marry into a respectable line. So, Sachiel found himself a very influential woman despite his interests lying elsewhere."

Here, she looked pointedly at Micah.

He assumed she implied Sachiel preferred men to women. Nothing too damning about that. Micah found he mirrored those sentiments and society was not harsh on same gender relations.

"Even before they married, many knew how Sachiel felt about women. He found little to appreciate and he often made his opinion very clear during social events." She paused. "Rumor has it that his wife continued to miscarry. After years of trying, she finally succeeded in carrying full term. It was at that time Sachiel's father passed away. He gave everything to Sachiel, pleased to see his son securing an heir."

Her tone was bitter, derisive, as if it was a personal wrong against her.

"As she went into labor, she gave birth to a stillborn." Talia looked at Kai. "Records indicate Sachiel's wife died in childbirth. Others claim Sachiel killed her, finding no point keeping a woman around who couldn't accomplish her one duty. Childbearing. He hasn't remarried since and he returned to his promiscuous ways."

"And just as Talia mentioned, it is gossip, rumors, and speculation," Kai said.

"Come off it," Viktor insulted. "He never denies it. Everyone knows it's true. And Micah better be aware of it considering…"

Micah raised his eyebrows. "Considering?"

Viktor flushed and shrugged, grabbing for the bottle of booze.

Only, Kai snatched it away from his groping hand. "Considering Micah is handsome? And Sachiel would have his wicked way with him?" He sneered at Viktor. "I think you've had more than enough booze tonight."

"Shut up, Kai!" Viktor's face turned brick red with humiliation when Keegan and Aiden burst out laughing. "Anyone who doesn't think Micah is attractive is obviously lying!"

Kai laughed loudly and Micah took his first sip of the whiskey.

He had a headache.

The story about Sachiel's past was intriguing and it truly sounded like something the man would do. Though it was unfortunate, it did not change Micah's perception of the man. At all. He always knew Sachiel harbored something sinister. Who was he to judge based on gossip and speculation? Perhaps none of it was true. Perhaps they were half-truths buried beneath exaggerated fables.

"Why do you always wear those?" Viktor suddenly asked.

Micah slowly lowered his glass, noticing the boy's attention fixated on his fingerless gloves. From the corner of his eye, he saw Keegan shift uncomfortably.

"You're full of energy tonight, Viktor," Micah drawled.

"Probably not a fashion statement. They are ratty and need of replacing. And I notice you wear them under the academy gloves," Kai concluded, squinting at Micah smugly as he sided with Viktor. "We've told you about Sachiel, I think you can at least give us a few things about yourself, Egan. No one but Flint knows anything personal about you."

They were all interested. All of them watched him keenly.

What a silly thing to be interested over.

Micah laughed once and unfastened a single glove despite his internal reservations and self-consciousness. With a ridiculous show of false bravado, he held up his hand, showing them all the marred and ugly flesh. He tried to avoid looking at his hands whenever possible, but in the light of their rooms, they looked even more hideous than he remembered.

"Is this what you were losing sleep over? Why I wear gloves?"

"Wicked!" Aiden gushed, standing up and running over. "You were burned by a fire Elemental, weren't you?" He grabbed Micah's hand, not noticing the flinch, and studied the pale and shiny scars across his skin. "Judging by the age of the scars, it happened a long time ago!"

It was easier to agree to Aiden's conclusion than to explain that he absorbed his mother's burns inflicted by Josiah. Staring at the scars, he suddenly felt marked —branded—by the man.

"Was it your father?" Viktor wondered. "Your mother was Unda, wasn't she?"

"Viktor," Kai scolded with exasperation. "What dramatic episode are you implying?"

"My father is Unda and my mother is Igni." Micah pulled his hand back from Aiden's awed examination. "And no, the scars were not from either of my parents." Indirectly, yes.

Viktor deflated as Micah destroyed his illusory suppositions. "Well? You made it sound as if they are both alive. What are their names? I hardly think there is an Unda man living in Region 20."

Micah could not withhold an exasperated sigh this time.

He caught Kai's eye, noticing the deep contemplation across the boy's face as he observed the scars on his hands. The boy witnessed the flames dance off him during their first mission together and relentlessly questioned him about it. Seeing the scars on Micah's hands would set him back from discovering the truth. At least for quite some time.

"What about you, Viktor?" Keegan suddenly intervened. "What's your story?"

"Me?" Viktor ran a hand through his short, choppy blond hair. "Well, I'm the fourth and youngest. Both my parents are from the highbrow nobility." He flashed a grin. "That's all." He looked back at Micah. "No mysterious parentage or scars to boast about."

"Nothing to hide, except a crush on your team captain," Kai leered.

"And a determination to stand apart from his older siblings," Micah guessed, looking pointedly at the boy's short hair and permanently askew uniform.

Viktor grimaced but did not deny it.

"What about you, Kai?" Keegan asked. Either Keegan was truly interested or he wanted to continue to direct the conversation away from Micah's upbringing. A fond smile crossed Micah's lips as he considered his loyal ally. The boy was too good to him.

Kai exhaled and tipped a bit more whiskey into his glass. "Only child with overbearing parents. Same with Cain."

Cain frowned. "It's my mother who is especially overprotective." He pushed his glass towards Kai, silently asking for a refill. "It's why I entered the academy so late. She didn't want to extract her talons from me. My father participated in the war, so he's pleased I'm here."

"Aiden?"

Aiden shrugged, falling back to the floor next to Keegan. "Eldest of two boys. My mother died when we were young. So my father and grandparents raised us." He looked at Keegan. "You're the eldest, yeah?"

"Eldest of five sons."

Viktor whistled. "And I thought I was the most unfortunate…"

"Talia?" Micah inquired.

When the Unda students suddenly stilled and stiffened at his question, he turned to look at the girl next to him, noticing a sullen expression across her pert features. Then again, when wasn't Talia upset about something?

"I am the eldest," she replied tightly. "And I have a younger half-brother and a half-sister." Talia grabbed the book again, using it as a shield. "What about you, Micah? Did your parents have any other children?"

Micah instantly thought of Ladon. He smiled thinly and stood up.

"A half-brother." That earned him a sharp, disbelieving look from Keegan and a considering stare from Talia. He lifted his glass and finished the rest of his drink. "Happy birthday, Wayde." He set the glass next to Kai. "And congratulations on your…" he trailed off, his eyes level with Kai's own. "New endeavors, Edlen. But I still get you for the next couple months and I expect you to give me your all."

Something seemed to please Kai, for the other man's eyes brightened and he smirked. "Yes, Captain."

Micah straightened. "I'm taking a shower." He cast a look around at the other team members. Some had glazed eyes— others did not. "Stay inside the room if you are going to continue drinking. You know we're not allowed alcohol."

"Watch out for Sachiel lurking in the showers!" Viktor called gleefully at his back.

"Or more believably, watch out for Viktor," Kai countered.

"Shut up, Kai!"

A chorus of laughter followed Micah out of the room. He shook his head as he shut the door, staring into the dark corridor. His eyesight gradually adjusted enough to see the dark figure standing just down the hallway. It was not Sachiel, nor Viktor, but rather an ambiguous form with too dark of features.

"...age…"

Micah frowned and took a step toward the figure. And then another. The voice was warped, uncanny, and nearly inaudible.

"Cage," the figure urged with a whisper. "…onster…"

As Micah closed in quickly, reaching for the hooded figure, it disappeared abruptly. His fingers groped at the empty air, caressing nothing but a distant memory. He gazed around the corridor, not seeing or hearing anything out of the ordinary. He considered the broken words, easily putting them together.

To cage a monster.

He remembered the leather bound book he picked up in Clarence's quarters. On the open page was a picture of an amulet. Writing had been scribbled all over the page, but at the top, the lettering clearly spelt 'To Cage a Monster'. Micah hadn't had the opportunity to look at the book further. Every time he found himself inclined to do so, his hand hovered over the cover, feeling uneasy and unsure.

If something—a hazy and undescriptive figure— wanted him to look at the book, he felt inclined to do the exact opposite. He was not a fool. Some objects had to be cursed. If it came from Clarence's room, in an exact position for Micah to find, he had no doubt that there was something larger at play.

Something… sorcery. From the brief glance he'd given the book, he had identified runes, amulets, and other hair-rising sketches. Noir Users were involved, certainly, and yet, Josiah's captain had not struck him as someone with ties to the Magi.

He cast one last look across the corridor before making his way to the showers.

Notes:

Those of us who know of Harry's mistake by engaging Tom Riddle's diary would applaud Micah's decision to separate himself from the book he found. Yet- perhaps that decision may come back to bite him in the ass? Who knows. Then again, maybe he just saved himself a lifetime of misery.