Marco XII

"Oh my Holy Angel, you've found me again!" Professor Mallory threw her head back exasperatedly. Unlike from the last time, she was not projecting a bald grumpy old fossil. She wore spectacles held up by her sharp nose and a loose-fitting purple caftan lined with symbolic embroideries from her hometown outside of Araya. 

"I bribed your assistant," Marco said, pulling a chair to sit in front of her. "But I didn't expect you to be in Demach at all before the Opening. A wise move."

"I'll kick my assistant out. It will be your fault," the professor grumbled, eyes back to her book.

"Please don't," he begged, laying a plate of chocolates in front of her. Who could refuse chocolates? "I lied to her, I said it was extremely urgent."

"You're not allowed to consume food inside the Bibliotheca."

"I'll put it away then."

"No way," she said, slamming down on the plate before he could take it away. "So, what do you need? Were you able to get answers this time? I'm sure if you've asked again with the right question, the Light of Truth will give the verdict."

"I haven't yet," Marco said solemnly, "But I came here for a different reason."

"Uh-hu." She put a chunk of chocolate in her mouth. 

"I know each professor has a privilege to recommend one student, regardless of birth—"

"You want me to recommend someone," Professor Mallory cut to the point straightaway.

"Yes, if you haven't submitted a name yet."

She dropped the book gently, saying, "That's a big favor to ask. A plate of chocolates won't cut it."

"I know, but I wanted to take my chance anyway."

"So, is it a girl you like?"

He answered her with a deadpan expression. "He's family."

"Well, I can certainly recommend him. I don't understand though, if he has power similar to yours, he could have easily cleared the Henge Field Test, although not without bruises."

"He doesn't have holy power."

She munched on another bar. "Oh, is he a genius then? We will need more of them, especially now that the King advocates for faster progress."

"He's not very knowledgeable," he informed her in a lower voice.

That made her indignantly inhale a lungful. "You mean to make me recommend an idiot to Demach? I know to you I might seem a drunkard and a worthless lady easily swayed with food, but Marco I still have some reputation to uphold."

"Please don't call him an idiot."

"Then I'll call you the idiot, wasting my time like this." She dragged the plate to her side, preventing Marco from taking it back.

"Please, Professor. I don't want him to feel depressed. He really wants to study here. Isn't Demach a place for making dreams come true?"

"Indeed, if you have merit! I cannot stain the Academy's reputation by admitting someone like him. But you already know that." She peered at him and leaned forward, intrigued, biting on a bar. "Now, I'm curious who could make a genius like you stoop this low? Tell me his name at least."

"Lucas. Lucas of Vermil," he answered, still clinging to a sliver of hope she would grant his plea. I'm prepared to entreat with her. "I'll do anything, professor. I can be one of your assistants for a year."

"Hmm, Lucas of Vermil, a commoner that you say is your family," she mumbled, resting her chin on her knuckle in thought, "The name rings a bell."

Has she heard about his uncomely reputation already? But we're well away from Vermil. That would make things more difficult.

"Ah I see now, come with me!" She bolted to her feet, scaring some students studying silently in the Bibliotheca.

She led her out of the gargantuan library of Demach.

The direction she was headed to seemed to be the white marble edifice. "This is the way to director's office. So, you're recommending him then."

She flashed her a hand. "For once, shut up." The ends of her purple caftan billowed in her heels as she crossed the grounds in long strides. He rushed after her in silence.

"Oh, a nice day to you, Mallory, Marco," an elderly professor greeted them in the hall. 

"A nice day to you as well, Professor Lock," he said.

They turned to the right wing housing the instructors' offices, not towards the director's. Marco felt his hopes being squashed. "Professor, where are we going?"

She stopped before the door that read: Prof. James Hilbury. She gave it three vigorous knocks unbefitting of a lady like her.

The administrator of the infamous Henge Field Test. The man had suddenly earned a rather bleak reputation in Demach. They said he was adamant in his proposal to conduct a combat test instead of the more peaceful gauging of students' holy power with a trusted artifact. The other professors had argued that it was usually those who have higher holy power who would be good in combat, so the results would be more or less the same, regardless of the nature of test to be used. Yet he had been insistent, and on the actual day, one girl almost died if he hadn't stepped in on time.

Marco also had planned to meet him soon, to inquire about Lucas's injuries. He suddenly remembered how stubborn his brother was on refusing treatment. He must be in a lot of pain. What if it festers? Ugh. His mood was ruined just thinking about it.

"Professor Mallory?" James Hilbury said, quizzical, upon opening the door. "What a welcome visit. Come in. I see you brought a most celebrated student."

"We won't be long," she said, stepping inside.

"A most pleasant morning, Professor," Marco greeted him, still clueless what she led him here for.

She asked, "Didn't you recommend Lucas of Vermil for admission?"

Marco thought he heard it wrong for a second.

"I did, indeed," he replied, equally confused at the interaction. He took his seat behind his desk where a few rolls of parchment sat on top.

She turned to Marco, "You should have gone over the bulletin before coming to me. Did it even occur to you?"

Several thoughts ran through Marco's head. Did he use it?

"May I know why you recommended him, Professor?"

James Hilbury leaned back in his chair. "First you must tell me why you came here."

Professor Mallory spoke, "He requested for me to recommend the commoner, saying he lacks holy power and intellectual aptitude. But it seems not to be the case if you as the administrator himself submitted his name. You must have seen something."

James reflected on it for a moment. "Lucas of Vermil. He's from your House's jurisdiction. And looking at it now, he resembles you. I hope I'm not stepping on lines here."

"Indeed, he's family." He was breaking her promises to his mother by openly declaring his blood relations with Lucas. But he was not so bothered by it when they were miles from the Palace.

"I thought you weren't being literal," Professor Mallory whispered beside him.

"May I know now, professor, the reason you vouched for him?"

He leaned towards them. "It's true his written test results were pathetic. But I presume you've heard by now of the unfortunate incident in the Henge Field. That girl almost died, if not for him."

Now it made sense. "He came home injured. Is that how he got them?"

He nodded, "He shoved her away, but he couldn't evade in time. I wanted to find him, but he disappeared like a ghost. Luckily, you're here now. Tell him the good news. He's in the Ordination Course."

Ordination? How can he attend there without an angel's blessing?

"But how did he do it?" Professor Mallory pressed, "My student claims he doesn't have holy power. The tumbleweed has a demon's blood. It can only be defeated by either a greater holy or demonic power. No freshman would have been able to do it."

"He doesn't have a pint of the blessing in him, that is why I put him in a special class: Zayin. I am as curious. I wanted to observe him. Maybe Lord Vermilon can shed some light to it?" They both turned to Marco.

He swallowed a lump in his throat. "I wish I knew."

A memory came back to Marco. It was from a time when he didn't bear a scar on his face yet, and when Lucas still had a room in the Palace. 

Lucas had called for him, leaping and hopping. "Marco, look at this. Come! Come!"

They dashed to his room where he had folded torn pages of a volume into paper birds, spread all over the carpet. "No, Lucas, grandfather would smite you!" Even as a small child, Lucas had received more physical chastisement than Marco had.

"Not after he sees this!" The little boy launched a bird into the air, making Marco wonder what was so special about it.

Then a minute passed. The bird circled in the room, never losing height, never dropping.

"See? I have talent like you!" He was so ecstatic that Marco did not feel the need to correct him. He still couldn't sense a shred of holy power in his little brother even in this bout of miracle.

He launched another paper bird. Then another one. They joined the first one in flight like a flock of ducks.

"You try too!" He handed Marco a couple. Lucas sent the paper birds in flight with some mysterious force. It did not have color nor smell. Marco could not tell what it was, even now.

Lucas's room filled with a flock of paper birds circling above two little boys playfully snatching them from the air and throwing them again.

The sound of laughter was later replaced by Lucas's sobs that night. They whipped him for he had destroyed a whole book on some important subject Marco had now forgotten. Grandfather was not the least bit happy about it. Meanwhile, Marco simply felt relieved that he himself was not hurt.

After meeting Professor Hilbury, Marco went straight to Lucas's house with a sober expression on his face. He hoped he could be happy about it. If he's in the Divine Ordination class, then they might encourage him to use that unknown power of his. Marco had no inkling as to whether it would be good or not. He was planning to send Lucas to History Studies, where he could simply attend Demach without trouble. But it was not in his grasp now.

Too many uncertainties. He sighed, exhausted. But we'll brave through it. I never expected anything to be easy in the first place. The moment he brought Lucas out of Gallagher, he had steeled himself to deal with any problems that might arise. Compared to the incident in the Ashwood Forest, what setback could be worse? 

He ordered Ser Gerald who accompanied him as his guard. "We will be moving tomorrow to the Academy Dormitory, please make the preparations, Captain." 

"I will, my lord."

When they arrived, he told Felix the same. "We will all be departing tomorrow for the Academy. Find a suitable carriage."

Both knights were surprised but they did not dare ask the question. They needed only to oblige.

Lucas was in his room, as he always was. The only time he set foot in the living room was whenever he crossed it when leaving the house and coming back. His guards reported he did eat his meals diligently but not together with them. He would bring them to his room all the time.

"Lucas." He knocked.

"Come in," he heard him answer. 

His brother was staring out the window. He had wrapped new bandages over his wounds. It was the clean fabric Marco brought, instead of his old shirts.

"Are you feeling better?"

"I am. You should not worry about me," he said calmly, his gaze trailing after a sparrow in the sky.

"It's my role, as your brother. I wanted to share some news. You should pack your things," he told him.

Lucas whirled to him with a start. "Are you sending me back?"

"No, no," he shook his head. "We're going to Demach. You made it!"

Lucas's usually tranquil countenance visibly brightened with delight, not too different from back when they were still clueless boys sending paper birds into the air. "Are you serious?"

Ordination Class or another made no matter now. Gallenport had just given Lucas the chance Marco had prayed for. I should be happy for him. This is what I wanted after all.