The Ghost of Vermil-Chapter 38: Apple XI

She caught the smell of wood — one hewn from a special tree that the angel had deemed prettier than most, more redolent than others. There shall be no lovelier creation, none more perfect than her.

She caught the smells of wood, hundred similar yet discernible scents, tainted with varnish and paint, with dye and ink. She smelled the desire in each of them, the longing and the helplessness. But one pungent scent screamed for her. It was hanging there in the middle of the dust-laden room, feet dangling, donned in a pair of pristine white boots, a name scribbled on its sole.

Apple groggily blinked awake. She remembered having a strange dream though only bits remained. And the harder she tried to recall it, the faster it disappeared from her memory.

She winced as a cold wind blew in when she opened the window to her chamber. Hurriedly, she shut it close back. A knock on the door announced the arrival of the maid assigned to her floor, carrying a steaming kettle.

"My lady, for your hot bath."

It was one of the best things about Demach. Somebody else prepared the tub for her. The tub itself was impressive on its own. She could understand why the nobles loved maintaining the status quo. But remembering that she held disdain for them, she took the kettle from her.

"I'll prepare it myself."

"Oh, it's hot," the maid warned her.

Drowsy, Apple realized too late. It singed her hand which instinctively let go, splashing the water on her feet and onto the carpet.

The maid paled in horror. Apple wondered whether it was out of sympathy or the fear of punishment. "Forgive me, my lady. Are you hurt?"

It had burned her fingers. The water had scalded her feet, searing her skin to a blush where it touched her. "I am well. Just bring me another one."

With the second kettle and the buckets of water, she made her own bath, stirring in rosemary oils and buds of jasmine. Shedding her night robe, she dipped into the lukewarm tub, regretting that she had not made it warmer. She should have skimped on the cold water.

She sighed. I must make the most of the Academy. Afterall, the mission might come to a quick end.

Sadly, she could not relish in the warm bath for longer, in fear of being late to Professor Cosser's Enchantment Fundamentals. She had received many warnings from her, threatening to bomb her with demerits for all the instances she was tardy. She donned her blue Demach coat. As a fitting ornament, she pinned the badge on her chest that glimmered with the number 274, sixth among the freshmen.

After just a few weeks, the Academy rankings had seen significant shifts, the winners ascending, the losers shoved down. There were a number of duels happening. The most anticipated of all was Marco Vermilon's. And he did not disappoint.

For some reason, she did not feel like wearing the white boots today. Instead, she put on the pink velvet shoes, posing in front of her vanity mirror before she went out the door heading towards the cafeteria.

She spotted Hannah's back on the brick-covered path on her way to the auditoriums. She ran up to her. "Hannah!"

"Oh, Apple. Great morning to you."

Indeed it was. The smell of maple and oak saturated the chilly morning air, rich and bursting with flavours. She breathed it all in. She sniffed Hannah's scent, etching it to memory.

Hannah was simple and spoke little. Her choice of a subtle perfume complemented her disposition perfectly. She smelled faintly of fruit. But beneath it was the sun-kissed signature of a life in the Copperhills where she hailed from.

"My morning has become brighter by tenfold after seeing you," beamed Apple, entwining their arms as they trod on.

"You jest." Hannah tapped her forehead.

"I wonder what Gallenport would look like with snow?"

"Hm, it's also my first time in the city. Maybe we should ask Yuri. But Apple, you would be able to see it with your own eyes. Snow always fall in the Month of Barachiel."

If I'm still here. She thought. With the devil exterminated, another white dove would come, a roll of paper tied to its leg, beckoning them to another strange place.

In the Auditoriums, Apple witnessed a rather not too unfamiliar sight. Lucas stood outside with hunched shoulders, pleading with Professor Cosser. It had been happening lately as of this week. After his accident in the House of Rules, the professors had been reluctant to accept him.

Yuri jumped in front of them, "Morning, beautiful ladies."

Apple smiled at him, her noble friend. Unlike Hannah, Yuri wore a heady perfume that he claimed attracted girls. To Apple, it was manly, nearly overwhelming but it was a welcome scent.

"Can you enlighten us?" Apple asked of him, pointing at Lucas.

"Well, we are about to do some practicals on basic defensive spells. Since Lucas does not have holy power to boot, Professor Cosser had suggested for him to study arithmetic and history in the Bibliotheca instead," whispered Yuri as they stood at the corridor.

That's one way to reject a student, she thought.

Lucas soon lowered his head in understanding.

Professor Cosser whirled back to the room, robes flapping at her heels, leaving the sole Zayin student alone.

He turned to leave but stopped when he spotted them. He lowered his head even more, beret falling aslant as he did so. He pulled his lips into a thin awkward smile, greeting them, "My lord, my ladies." He shuffled past them without another word.

Her gaze followed him as he passed. She wanted to warn him, to say sorry, to ask him who was the true Lucas of Vermil — the hero who saved her or the demon with the vilest stench. But as he disappeared through the wide arching doors of the Auditoriums, every word remained trapped in her throat.

The practicals went by smoothly. Apple's DIVINE PROVIDENCE could create a barrier half an inch thick, able to defend against basic attacks. Professor Cosser would ask them to increase the output each time, testing its durability with a barrage of controlled attacks from an artifact that shot out flaming pellets. At its maximum power, the artifact left dents and cracks on the barrier that had consumed half of her total reserve. It was safe to say the professor was impressed. Most of her classmates could not even endure the artifact's bombardment at the lower stages.

In the professor's defence, it was not a test Lucas could take. He already had one hole in his palm, he did not need more.

No one but Apple seemed to mind that the Aleph class seemed incomplete without the Zayin student. But in all fairness, no one but her seemed to care when he was here, perhaps bar Diana who detested him. They were put off by his presence and apparent incompetence, but they paid him no mind in the class. He would sit at his usual place, silent as a ghost.

He was back two hours later. Apple wondered if he even went to the Bibliotheca. He took his usual seat in the topmost tier of the auditorium, in the far corner, away from everyone's notice but Apple's.

Professor Devonchy — a ball of a man with a curvy moustache — staggered in unceremoniously in his unproportionally stunted legs. He took one look at Lucas and swayed his head from side to side. "Bring your things, Lucas of Vermil."

Lucas's usually tranquil facade showed cracks of unease. He would be spending another two hours out of the class. Calmly, he stepped down but instead of making for the door, he approached Professor Devonchy.

"My lord, Professor Hilbury said I can attend all classes with Aleph," he pleaded so softly Apple had trouble listening in on them.

"Of which I am not ignorant. But I cannot have you in Power Control when you don't even manifest a blessing, son. I cannot afford casualties here. When these children's powers go out of control, what if you're caught in it? Better go somewhere you can read some books in peace."

"But the director said —"

"I know what the director said," the professor cut in, "But I am asking you to leave anyway. His conditions only apply to you, it has no consequence to us. And Lucas of Vermil, do you honestly want to be in Ordination? I think James is pushing his luck. You'll only face hardships here you have no capacity for. I hope you take to heart what I say. I'm only worried that you'll hurt yourself here, unnecessarily."

Lucas stooped. "Thank you for your concern, Professor."

Once he was out of earshot, Calla raised a question. "May I ask Professor what the director's conditions are? I heard you mention it."

Their Power Control instructor slumped on his chair, making a creaking sound. "As every one of you are aware, the Zayin student lacks holy power. The director was not so happy that Professor James Hilbury recommended him, while completely aware of that. Thus, he has given Lucas of Vermil only until the end of this month to prove that he belongs in the Divine Ordination course."

"He already fainted last week, he should have been dismissed from the course immediately," remarked Rickland, Lucas's teammate from before. Rick, along with Diana and Jennifer, plummeted down the rankings, with Rickland suffering the worst. He was nearly at the bottom now. Diana fell to fifteenth place in their class.

Even in classes that required no holy power, Lucas fell behind. He was often without. For the first month, he skipped days to recuperate from injury or trance, rendering him unable to catch up on the lessons. In Mathematics, the professor grew tired of him who had barely mastered arithmetic and so he brought a guide suitable to eight-year olds. "Answer all these practices on basic arithmetic then come back to me." He sent him out.

Apple felt relieved it was not her in Lucas's position. She was doing better with numbers now, with Yuri's help. He tutored her in the Concord, not only on Mathematics but in Literature too. She was not the best learner, but learn she did, albeit slow. Lucas, on the other hand, was alone with no friends to take him under their wings and help him. She once promised to teach him geography but she never found the chance to. Now it had become impossible for the exorcists would soon come for him. And in the aftermath, all of Apple's relationships here would be cut short. Together with her father, she would take to the roads again to another village or city or kingdom.

In Literature and Poetry at least, Lucas was not evicted. But when he was called, he struggled to read the passage assigned to him. Diana's group muttered something Apple could not make out but it made the students nearby giggle. That was when the Professor told him to sit down and she never bothered to ask for him during the rest of the period nor the rest of the week.

Professor Mallory was not too ecstatic about Lucas's presence either. She experienced firsthand how he failed a test — miserably. Diana started talking about it one morning.

"He was gasping like a dying animal, you should've heard it."

Apple's ears always perked up when Diana opened her mouth. And this time, her voice was loud and clear, as though she intended for Apple to hear.

"Was he too scared of the dark?"

"He must have pissed his trousers!" Jennifer said, to the amusement of his classmates.

"He did not possess a spit of power so he kept begging me, my lady, my lady, light, please. I was too kind. So, I made one orb of light, but it did not help anyway. That darkness was thick and impenetrable. But the bastard surrendered before we could think of a way."

To Apple, it didn't seem like they were lying.

After Professor Mallory's test, they began sharing details of the penalty rooms they encountered. There were rooms of bugs, worms, and spiders similar to theirs. But there were also unique rooms like the puppet storeroom that Apple's team nearly failed at and the toilet that Diana's team almost drowned in. Even Apple was disgusted to hear that, albeit delighted in the image of Rupert squirming in filth.

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Although some of them supposed that the House of Rules haunted them with their own fears, Apple thought differently. The rooms were fragments from memory of those who entered there, she believed. It was the only explanation for the puppets' appearance; for puppets never frightened her at all.

That made her wonder what experience Lucas had gone through for him to be so helpless against the dark.

On their third meeting with Professor Mallory that same week, she announced another Test, this time to be done in pairs. Instead of sensing the energy contained in artifacts, the test measured how effectively they can recognize the holy power of their partner. Each individual had a unique holy power, in quantity, level and other qualities. If they spent a long enough time with each other familiarizing their holy power, they must be able to perceive then without mistake the energy of their ally.

Since it was a Test that required sensing each other's holy energies, Lucas was excluded, naturally. Perhaps, the professor did not even expect to see him in the coming days.

If their Power Control instructor was to be believed, Lucas had only until the end of this week as a Demach scholar. He had made next to no progress, especially that he was being thrown out of every class he tried to attend. With the professors giving up on him, she knew they would be more than happy to rid of him.

During lunchtimes, Apple saw Lucas eating alone. He would get a tiny portion of food and then stride straight for the farthest seat. Before the majority of the Academy students arrived, he had long finished his meal, vanishing to some place Apple did not know of.

It was the day of worship of the Hashmalim that Diana accosted her. The day was still far from over. They had one subject left for the afternoon— another class that rejected Lucas. He had stayed for Literature in the morning; however, right after it, he scampered out of his seat before Professor Devonchy arrived. She had not seen him since.

Diana faced her, ginger head neatly combed as though some maid fixed her hair every minute. On her chest gleamed the number 285, seven places below her previous standing.

Apple puffed her chest, "What do you —"

"I am not here to fight," she stifled her, "So please save the immature insults."

"What could you possibly need of me?" She said instead.

She grinned, "I noticed you've been avoiding him."

"Was I?"

"So," she craned closer, whispering, "You believe me now. Did you find something evil about him?"

Apple wanted to deny her the satisfaction of being right but the poor noble's daughter only pined for justice for a brother who was taken so young. Lucas was young then too, Apple understood that. For all they knew, it could have been an unfortunate accident all along. But with Lucas's outright claim of having forgotten about it, Apple was torn over whose side she should be on. On one hand, she had wanted to understand Lucas more deeply and hear his own side of the incident. On the other hand, understanding ought to come after admission, not before.

"He says he don't remember," she said.

"Bullshit!" she cursed, "He's a murderer and a craven. So different from his brother by a long shot. But Marco Vermilon is being fooled, or he's just stupid. But you, I know you've seen something. Otherwise, you would be sticking so closely by his side."

Justice will be served soon, Apple wanted to tell her. You only need wait.

"Marco Vermiilon actually told—"

KABOOM! A thunderous explosion shook Demach.

They rushed to the windows, where a plume of smoke could be glimpsed billowing from a building close to the direction of the Henge circles.

"An explosion!"

A thick stench reached Apple's senses. It was not just of one but of many.