Marco IV

Mother was silent throughout dinner. She seemed well rested. Like every affair involving Lucas, this incident would be ignored and forgotten. Like words on sand, tomorrow the winds would blow it to oblivion. Vermilon would emerge strong, unyielding, and unsoiled.

"I hope you are not forgetting to review your studies," his grandfather, Earl Wolfram Vermilon, reminded him.

Marco put down his fork for a moment, "I still have classes with Kurt; we're finishing on Arayan lineages this week. Then we'll be moving on to some practicals for holy power applications. I'm improving on my sword handling skills with the help of Ser Hector."

"Don't get distracted."

"I won't."

"Remember talent can take you only so far before you hit a wall…"

"I need diligence and perseverance to overcome it, I know. Thank you for the advice Grandfather."

Then Grandfather engaged his daughter into more political subjects. The conflict with neighboring Torinto on the farmlands and irrigation, the issue of uncollected taxes from sleazy merchants who seemed to underestimate Gallagher simply because it was a smaller state, the uprising that spread from the Arayan capital to the provinces. Marco pushed himself to pay attention because it would be his own duties in the future. Not too soon though, he hoped.

When dinner was almost finished, Marco then brought up a most sensitive topic. "Grandfather, Mother, if I might have a request…"

"What is it?" The old Vermilon looked up from his plate, wearing an expression that seemed to weigh Marco's words before he even spoke them.

"Can Lucas come to the Academy this year? He's the right age."

Mother slammed the cutlery down, the plates clinking. The servants flinched. "Marco, you are hurting my ears! In the morning I tolerated it. But not anymore."

"He's your son. He's my brother. We owe him at least a chance to be educated. He studies a lot, he even has book-"

"YOU DON'T HAVE A BROTHER! I HAVE NO OTHER SON. WHEN WILL YOU UNDERSTAND? YOU'VE SEEN IT. YOU KNOW IT! YOU'VE EXPERIENCED IT FIRSTHAND!" She touched his cheek where the scar grazed close to his left eye.

Marco did not want to activate his lie-detecting talent because everytime she uttered those words, only one thing rang in his head. TRUTH. TRUTH. TRUTH. It did not exactly mean that it was true, but that she believed it to be true.

Grandfather did nothing but watch as his daughter Anastasia turned apoplectic.

Marco would have been fazed if this were the first time that Mother screamed her denials.

He stood his ground. "You will force him out anyway in a year when he turns fifteen. Better to send him away with me now to the Academy."

"I said no distractions," Grandfather said so casually. With regards to Lucas, he seemed calmer than Mother.

Mother withdrew her touch and exhaled heavily. "I can't listen to this."

"At least you won't have to deal with Lucas anymore. He'll be miles off from Gallagher."

"No, don't speak its name like its a person."

"I'll make sure he won't use the Vermilon name, I promise."

"No."

"Mother please…"

"NO!" She sprang to her feet and fled, in her usual way of dealing with things out of her control.

Marco sighed, helpless but not yet defeated.

Grandfather took a sip from his wine, then said, "Please understand Anastasia. She's been through some ordeals that she should not have gone through at her young age."

"I know," Marco set his eyes downcast. He was not of pure nobility. Mother had once eloped with a commoner; when she came back she had two sons with her, although she only ever acknowledged one. Twice she fell in love. Twice she had her heart broken.

She never talked about it. But Grandfather had a vague idea. Its from him that Marco knew. Marco had no recollections of his own father but of Lucas's, he had a few. Unfortunately they were too vague, too faded, and too old to get any vivid imagery.

Grandfather went on, swirling wine in his tall glass. "If bringing that thing with you would put your mind at ease, then I'll allow it. We don't need a parasite here anyway."

"Really?" Marco jumped, strode to his Grandfather and gave him an embrace.

"If I have known that doing this would merit me a hug from you, I would have done it sooner."

"You are the best, Grandfather."

"Talk to your mother about it."

"I will. But swear on the holy angel, that you would not go back on your word."

"Ha, sly bastard. You want to give me a heart attack if I break my word? Alright, I promise."

The next morning, Marco had been trying to chance upon Mother but her stubbornness made his efforts futile. As long as the Earl supported Marco, it was enough. But it would have been nicer if Mother would have agreed to it too. That way Marco won't be parting ways with her aggrieved. In two weeks, he and Lucas would be gone. Then for five months he would reside in the Academy's quarters. It would be agony to be away from her thinking she resented him.

Marco decided to tell Lucas the good news as soon as possible. Mother could not rescind Grandfather's decision anyway.

On his way downstairs, she was the one who called to him.

"Yes Mother, have you thought about it?"

"I lost sleep over it, thanks to you."

"I'm sorry." He frowned.

"I'll agree," she declared, sorrowfully.

Marco feared he might have misheard. "You agree?" At least now, she acknowledged Lucas's presence even begrudgingly. Little by little, one step at a time. No need to rush.

"On a condition."

"Why?"

"Hear me out. You shall travel on two separate coaches. I talked to Father about it."

"Two-Is there a need for that? Isn't it safer if I were with him?"

"You think you're safe with… that thing? When it nearly took your sight from you. That thing is an object of malice and misfortune. I will not be able to sleep thinking that you would be staying in the same carriage for a day. No, not possible. You are the future of Vermilon and you are my son. The last thing I want is for you to be harmed. You understand me?"

"I - I understand. But who's going to accompany him?" Lucas would be alone again.

"I'll get one of the attendants."

Nobody would volunteer for that task, without a doubt.

Mother continued, "And I'll send a letter to the Academy to give it a chance for a test. If it fails, then it'll have to live in the streets. That's the consequence of your action, Marco. If it passes, which is far-fetched, it will stay in a different room, far away from you. It would take a commoner's name. I won't let it sully the Vermilon family. If it gets into another…incident, stay away from it. You understand me?"

Marco's spirit sank deeper and deeper with her every word. How could she detest Lucas so much? But at least, this is a chance worth taking. There was a glimpse of progress, no matter how small. Anything is better than Lucas being stuck in a storage building. I just have to make it work.

Marco nodded perfunctorily.

"Ugh, I feel like you are going to simply ignore everything I said." She threw up her hands in frustration.

"Don't worry, Mother. I can handle it."

She stepped closer to him, her voice soft yet firm, "That thing is not your burden, Marco. How can I free your conscience of it?"

You are right, Mother. He is our burden. Not just mine.

"I'll have to tell him the good news. Thank you, Mother. Thank you for giving him a chance."

She looked deep into his eyes and without warning, she hugged him. He had outgrown her, so he had to stoop to her level. She mumbled, "You don't know what you're doing. But I know this is just who you are. That's why I don't hate you for it. And even though I wasn't a great parent, you've grown up well."

He felt something wetting his shoulder. She sniffed and wiped her tears.

Marco wiped his own eyes as well.

As he made his way to Lucas, Marco could not help but recall the last time Mother cried in front of him. It was when she was wiping the blood off his wounded cheek, frantically. Marco did not cry then. He had been in shock, afraid Mother might be right.

He saw movement in Lucas's window. He must be awake. His room lamp was still burned, despite the bright hour of the encroaching midday.

"Lucas! I have good news!" He called.

The movement in the room disappeared as he got closer. But he clearly saw a pair of eyes looking at him through the window.

"Lucas," he called. When he got closer, he found his brother on the bed.

"Hey, stop pretending to be asleep. I've got the best news for you." He knocked on the window.

His brother awoke, rubbing sand from his eyes. "Marco!" He cheered, pushing the window open.

"Were you playing with me?" A small uneasy suspicion settled in Marco's mind. Shivers crept over him, his hair bristling. My blessing would have reacted. I would know for sure.

"Playing, what do you mean?" He sounded terribly groggy as though he had not a wink of sleep in the night.

"I saw you moving around."

"Oh, really? Must have been the flame flickering."

"Lucas, do you have someone in the house with you?" Marco asked, his instincts going haywire.

Lucas denied it, "No."

A lie. The door never opened. It should still be in the room whatever it is. But Marco could not feel any other presence beside Lucas's. Is my power to discern the truth failing me? Does my bias affect whether I accept his word to be true or not? Could it just be my hallucination then? Marco was utterly confused. But he's lying. Why is he lying?

Lucas asked in a soft tone. "Did something happen again?" He looked guarded. Marco seldom visited him two days in a row. And usually, not for good reason.

In his confusion, Marco nearly forgot why he came to his younger brother in the first place.

"Oh, I just wanted to share some great news," Marco beamed, leaning against the window frame, putting off that matter for another day. Whatever it was, it should not ruin this glorious morning. "You'll be attending the Academy with me, brother!"

"Rea-lly?" Lucas swallowed a lump in his throat, his voice breaking as he spoke, "Y-you must be messing with me."

"No, for real. I never asked you what you wanted to be when you grow up, but I believe it's time to think about it."

Lucas's eyes began to well. He had to shield them with his arm. He wiped them along with the snot trailing from his nose. "I'm afraid this is a dream. What if I wake up and this isn't real?"

"Huh, you're being poetic now because of all those books you've read."

Marco reached through the window, pulling Lucas into a hug — Marco's third in less than a day. The first embrace for Lucas in ten years. Reluctantly, Lucas inched stiffly toward him. He completely broke into tears, sobbing.

How can a cry-baby ever hurt anyone? Marco thought, yet deep down he knew, Lucas was more than capable.