The Ghost of Vermil-Chapter 23: Marco XV

"You want me to stalk your brother?" Catherine cried out, confused.

Marco held her by the shoulders, looking around to see if anybody heard her squeal, "Can you lower your voice at least?"

She huffed in a whisper, "And here I thought you went to find me to ask me to join your party."

"Will you even participate?"

"No," she turned away, "I don't like fighting. But out of consideration of our friendship, you could have asked. It did not even cross your mind to recruit me. Ugh, that's painful."

"I did think of asking you, but I know you would decline," he reasoned. Catherine would sooner engage the opponent in debates about history and philosophy than draw a weapon against them. It was still one way to subdue an opponent, he supposed — to bore them to sleep. But it would not work against a cursed being whose only instinct was to slaughter.

"So, you thought of asking me to stalk your brother instead?"

"It's not stalking. I'm asking you to watch over him—"

"And how am I supposed to do that, my genius lord? I can't come up to him and say, hey, don't leave my sight. I'll strike you with lightning if you do."

"Stalking it is, then." He yielded.

"I'm always right, aren't I?"

Marco felt exhausted just arguing with her. "It's just for a day or two, while I'm gone."

She demanded payment in exchange for the favour he asked of her. They spent a long while bargaining before settling on nothing at all but the promise that he would give her something in the future. He could bring her the head of the cursed being, but then she probably would never want to see him again.

It was in the smallest henge circle that he met the team he and Quain had assembled. Aside from the two of them who excelled in combat and immobilization, they thought of recruiting at least one healer, another fighter, and a navigator. Marco also had enough holy power to reconnoitre the entire Delta, but he could not divulge it to anyone yet.

Only the navigator did not come from the Sophomore Class. As he came closer, he realized that she was a familiar face. Lucas's friend. He had seen their group eating and walking together sometimes.

Quain remarked upon spotting him, "Ah, our leader is here."

He greeted them, "A great afternoon, my lords and ladies. I hope you had wonderful classes today. I'm Marco Vermilon."

Their healer, Ferdinand, giggled, "Everybody knows who you are, Marco."

"The lady might not." He turned to her, "Might I have the honour of knowing your name, my lady?"

"Apple of Heinstead," she smiled, bowing and holding her blue skirt out as if in curtsy. "I shall find the cursed being for you." He noticed that she spoke without honorifics. He could tell it was deliberate.

"I presume you have talent to survey and navigate the Delta? Can you show us how?"

The freshman refused, "I'm sorry I cannot."

Frustrated, Marco swivelled his head to Quain who looked astonished of his recruit's defiance. Quain tried to convince her, "We'll also display our talents, Apple. As a team, we need to be able to trust each other. Just to express my sincerity, I shall start. Apple, I can summon mythical beasts."

She bowed in apology, "Forgive me, I cannot tell you how." She looked Marco straight in the eye, "But I can lead you to it. I ascertain that. On my father's honour."

Truth. Lumen Veritatis showed him. It meant that at least, she was confident in her ability.

"I'll take your word for it," Marco said, "Just to remind all of you, merits will be determined by your contribution. But gaining merits is not the purpose of this excursion. We have been called as Demach scholars of the Ordination Class to do our duty to the Kingdom of Araya and protect its subjects from the creatures of the demonic legion. I cannot guarantee your safety. You must have been aware of the perils of this mission before you presented yourselves here. If you feel that you are not fit for it, there is no shame in withdrawing now."

He swept his eyes at the four them, none of whom budged from their position. He went on, "Then, as a team, we shall protect each other, watch each other's back and perform our utmost to achieve our goal. Just as Quain had initiated, to build trust among us I shall reveal my blessing. This is the Inviolable Edict."

Marco shot out thin threads of holy energy. The grass beneath them began to sway in unison. "I can control inanimate objects around me."

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Ferdinand followed suit, turning to Apple who was the sole stranger in the group, "Ferdinand Decastil." He shook her hand in greeting. "I have decent healing abilities but the enchantment I use for fighting cursed beasts is Hymn of Plague. I cannot demonstrate here, it's too ugly."

"Not a problem, Ferd," Marco tapped him on the shoulder. "We'll be at your mercy. Prioritize the most injured first if multiple members of our team require your healing, whoever it is."

"I'm Ingryd van Yutenstar," their third fighter suddenly spoke, thrusting a straight veiny fist to Apple's chest who looked surprised at the gesture, "From the long line of Yuten nomads of the cold permafrost."

Marco advised Apple, "The Yutens bump fists when greeting each other. It's too cold in the Pilthern tundras; hence they wear gloves all the time and cannot shake hands."

Apple understood, bumping fists with Ingryd of the permafrost.

Ingryd posed a challenge, in her slightly hoarse voice, "Can you guess what my blessing is?"

Apple pondered for a second before answering, "If you're from the cold tundras, then you must have some blessing to conjure ice?"

"Heh," Ingrid snorted, mirthful. "Thought you'd say that. I can conjure fire." She chanted, "SONG OF CREATION!" A small ball of flame manifested in her hand.

Marco had been a victim of the trick as well. Ingrid loved compelling strangers to guess her blessing only to hear them fail. It amused her.

"Is that so?" Apple said, "Then would you like to guess my talent as well? I cannot show you my reconnaissance skill but I can demonstrate my combat talent at least."

Ingrid looked at her incredulously before saying, "It's certainly not apples."

They laughed. Apple wrung her head, chuckling, "Certainly not."

"A Virtue?" She guessed. A safe shot.

Apple belted out with unneeded tune and loudness, "SONG OF CREATION!" Pink blossoms came to life around her feet, their buds flaring open with entrancing synchronicity. Marco could not name what flowers they were for it was his first time to see them. "I create these pretty flowers," she said proudly, giddy.

They gaped in awe at the beauty of her creation. Her flowers were as vibrant as she appeared to be. And she seemed to know it.

"I believe we are all done with our introductions. Director Garren requires that we present ourselves to him now before we set off. We leave at sunrise tomorrow. Do not worry about provisions or your mounts. Everything is prepared. You only need to be in front of the Morning Garden before the crack of dawn."

Director Garren only reminded them of the perils when they came to meet him. "It is okay to retreat, if you feel your lives are in danger," he said, "Youth is such an empowering age; you feel as if you could conquer the world, trust me I know, but I implore you to recognize your limits. It is okay to take a step back and try again the next day."

Marco wondered if he had said the same to the other teams. They were the last group to submit their names. He had trouble finding members. The sophomores bore the sentiment that they were not ready for such challenges yet, arguing that Marco was merely atypical, a genius. On the other hand, the higher years did not favour Marco at all. He blamed it on their pride as his seniors, yet he could not help wondering if there was something unlikeable about him. Am I too arrogant for my age?

His training session with Professor Turington came back to him, where he stunned the whole coliseum with a ball of raw holy energy the size of a hot-air balloon. Marco had called forth more holy power than necessary, just because he could. I am indeed arrogant, he realized.

Ser Gerald, the captain of his guards, requested an audience. He had Felix and Dunce with him. They could not reside inside the walls of Demach, so they remained in Felix and Dunce's lodging. It was there that Marco met them.

"My lord," they greeted.

"I hope you are all faring well in the city. Any reports?" He stood in the middle of the room even though Dunce had gestured for him to sit.

"The horses are ready as are the food and other provisions," the old knight relayed, "But I am concerned of my lord's safety. Is it not possible for us to accompany you. We will not act unless the situation requires."

"I appreciate the worry, Ser, but the Academy advocates for fair competition. I will return without a scratch. After all, it is but one cursed being. Just tell me, Ser Gerald, have you caught wind of anything regarding this incident yesterday?"

"All those at the scene were killed and devoured, including two Gallenport soldiers," the knight answered, "All the eyewitnesses we found were claiming it scurried off to the Delta. They said it was humongous, and it had many eyes and feet."

It might take more than two days. Marco sighed.

Before heading back to his own suite, Marco made one last stop. "Lucas," he knocked silently at the door.

The wooden door creaked ajar. "Marco!" Lucas said, brightening.

"Can I come inside?"

"Of course."

Unlike Marco's suite, Lucas's room was much smaller but still leagues better than the storeroom he used to reside in. Here he had a bigger bed, a couch, a carpet and a huge lamp although he still had the small gas lamp lit as always next to the stack of books on his desk. Marco seemed to have disturbed his reading.

"How is Demach so far?" He asked him, glimpsing the book he was studying. It was algebra.

"It's incredible!" He replied. "I should let you meet my friends one day."

Marco could not find himself to be optimistic about such a proposition.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Lucas saddened, scratching at the bandage of his injured hand. "I can introduce you as my lord. Is that still not possible?"

Their similarities were conspicuous. If seen together, anyone would suspect them to be brothers. "It will be difficult for you if they find out."

"I can handle it. I'll be fine."

Marco even had to sneak in to talk to him. He shook his head, adamantly. "No, Lucas. We came here so you can start anew. If you get tied to me, to Vermilon, to Gallagher... you do have an idea what will happen, don't you?"

You will be called the Ghost of Vermil again. And all the skeletons in your closet will be dragged back to the light.

His brother nodded. "I do."

Marco said, "I came here to tell you I will be gone for a day or two or longer."

"Why?"

"Duty to the Kingdom. We're subduing a cursed being outside Gallenport but it should not take too long. Please don't get into trouble while I'm gone." He ruffled his hair, surprised at how soft it was.

"I won't," he said, smirking.

"Promise you'll stay in Demach. Just right inside the academy."

"I will," he answered.

A lie. The Light of Truth revealed to Marco. Is he planning to go to the city? He doesn't have many classes. He must be so bored.

Marco said, "If you don't have class, where do you go?"

"I help Professor Hilbury."

"Does he treat you well?"

"He does. Earlier, he assigned me to copy old texts so I can also practice my handwriting."

"You don't need to go out of Demach then?"

"No, I don't think so."

He just lied with a perfectly calm face. Why do you lie to me Lucas? I'm the only one on your side. He was glad he asked Cat to watch over him, although her job had just become more difficult.

"So will you be in your room then when the day is over?"

Lucas said meekly, "I will, don't worry. I'll behave myself." Another lie.

"Are you sure? You're not interested in strolling around the city? You must be," he pressed. He did not realize that his tone had shifted.

All colour faded from Lucas's face. "Are you angry? Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry..."

Marco cupped his head in one hand, sighing, "Lucas, I only want to protect you. I want you to enjoy your time here but there are... people who might want to hurt you. But inside Demach, they cannot do much. While I'm gone, I need you to be here. Do you understand?"

He nodded solemnly.