The Ghost of Vermil-Chapter 47: Marco XXIV

He remembered the ducks floating in the air, born out of paper, given life by Lucas's touch. It was the first of many wonders that his little brother shared with him.

It was only a few weeks later that the servants ran out of his room drenched. Then water slowly poured out of Lucas's room like a deluge. The whole of Vermilon Palace became flooded, their carpets soaked, the whole of the first storey a dripping mess. No one knew where the water originated from.

One time his brother became fond of a rare and deadly mushroom called the funeral bell. Then suddenly, it was not so rare anymore — in Gallagher at least — their poisonous brown bulbs suddenly popping up everywhere. But deadly they remained to be. A person nearly died from them.

When he expressed his desire to play in the rain, the downpour would come no matter the weather. And as soon as he got tired of it, it would stop.

Lucas's power seemed mysterious for it had no form and no rules.

"I don't know how to describe it to you, Director," Marco said, contemplating. They have Lucas. Being uncooperative with them might harm us in the end. It was not like Lucas's power was demonic.

"Please try."

"Well, his power isn't grand. But it's not small either. I've only seen it during our childhood. I have not seen him use it since. His power was born out of a whim, his childish desire, if I might say. But he had never used holy energy before. His power was harmless then. He just wanted to play."

James Hilbury peered at him, puzzled.

The director said, "I do not take you for a liar, Marco Vermilon. But harmless is not something I would describe a power that could siphon dark energy out of a demonic creature."

His words seemed to carve a pit in Marco's stomach. Lumen Veritatis showed Truth.

"It was how the Weeper was defeated, Lord Vermilon," James said. "Lucas drained power from it, turning it into a powerless creature of nothing but flesh and bones. Then the professor easily obliterated it."

Marco's thoughts were at a standstill. He was hearing without understanding. He could feel his own breath but it seemed artificial, forced, unnatural. All the noise around him became muffled as though he was underwater. His recollection traced back the days, to the night in the Delta where Lucas held a rat that turned back into a boy, to the stormy evening in the Ashwood Forest whose trees soaked up both water and blood of half a dozen escorts with their guts spilling, to the unexplained shadow in Lucas's room which his brother denied, to the twitching body of a ginger head boy lying in a pool of his own blood — mutilated in the same way that Ser Harol was slashed, in the same deep marks in Lucas's abode.

"Marco, did you know? Beforehand, did you know?" Professor Mallory touched his shoulder gently.

All those years, he missed it. Lucas never showed him. He shook his head wordlessly.

"Are you also aware Lucas has incredible healing?" James Hilbury told him. When Marco simply glanced at him blankly, it seemed enough response. "He was stabbed twice, once by a cursed oryx, and another by the Weeper. He healed perfectly on both occasions. The incident at the Henge Field Test should have left a hole in his palm but his hand appeared unscathed, scarless. One day, he had bandages on his chest yet he had no wounds there."

He never needed healing spells at all. I was so worried but he wouldn't tell me. Marco knew his brother kept secrets. But his healing ability astounded him. He was lying to me. The whole time, he lied to me. Again and again, he lied. Never trusted me once. Ever.

Perhaps, that's why he was not so scared for his life. Not of Diana Rupert. Not of cursed beings or demonic creatures. For he had such an outstanding talent.

"I want to see him. Where are you holding him?"

The Director opened and clasped his knuckles, replying with finality. "Let's wait for a bit. I want to hear what Diana Rupert has to say."

Professor Mallory invited him to the couch while they waited, offering a freshly brewed tea. She asked, "Lucas is not a violent soul, I can tell. But I rarely see him speak and interact with other students, so my opinion bears no weight here. Yours do, so I want to know. Is he capable of harming people?" She glanced at Marco's scar. Discreetly but he could tell. He was used to it. It was not too big an imperfection. But this time it wasn't his defect but his brother's.

"I believe everyone is capable of harming others, Professor," Marco answered. He was equally capable of violence, as Lucas was. However... "It's just that nobody expected it of him, at such a young age when he had been nothing but innocent before."

"So, Rupert's brother...?"

"He died in Lucas's presence, that's all. Nobody saw it happen. Everything is circumstantial." Marco sounded delusional, he realized. He kept denying it, clinging onto the sliver of hope that Lucas was innocent of it.

"But now, he committed a crime that could have led to the death of several promising cadets. He will be hanged once the King catches wind of it."

"What if Lord Libbery was mistaken? Perhaps, he was lying."

"Lumen Veritatis confirmed the truth of his words."

"That's what he had seen. The truth has many facets, Professor. One can only look at it through one at a time."

"Indeed. The Scales of Retribution shall judge him."

"Will I even see my brother again?" They are treating him like a criminal. In their heads, he was already one. Meanwhile, Marco wished this whole day was but all a dream. I am the only one on his side. Yet he doesn't even trust me.

Diana soon arrived escorted by the director's assistant. Her red hair hung low beyond her shoulders, framing the dignified face of a Rupert, now exuding the air of triumph. She cast Marco a sidelong glance. Whether she was wary of him or scornful, he could not tell.

"Director, you called for me," she said.

Director Garren addressed her in the same stringent tone, abandoning the mask of tenderness. "Lady Rupert, I would like you to tell me the rumours you had spread."

"I—"

"I do not condone purveying gossips in the Academy, Diana. You have made a mockery of a sacred and powerful institution that fosters the next leader and the future protectors of Araya. If you have grievances, you should have gone straight to me, and this matter could have been settled quietly. Instead, you made a circus of my scholars, of my professors, of me."

Diana's earlier visage of confidence folded. "Please accept my apologies, Director. It just seemed unfair to me that a murderer was being praised as a hero."

"Funny you thought justice was marring his name when you had lost a brother. It seems I'm not well-versed in the customs of Gallagher. One day, you shall teach me."

"Forgive me, Director."

"Regardless, a more pressing matter is at hand. I want to listen to your side of the story, directly from you not from the gossiping mouths of my scholars and professors."

"Then..." she turned her gaze at Marco, "I do not want interruptions. It might be better for him not to be here."

Marco glared at her. He wanted to remind her to show some respect as his future subject, but in Demach, not one student should be above another by birth, only by talent.

The director said, "Marco, please wait outside with Annise."

Lady Annise Rothspiel seemed surprised that she would be sent out as well. Nonetheless, she heeded.

Once outside the door, Marco interrogated her, "Where did you take my brother?"

"Hm, you would have to beat the answer out of me," she challenged, smirking.

I could. But that would not look so gracious of me. I don't want to aggravate Lucas's situation. "Are you itching to fight me?"

She snickered. "Make the offer, Lord Vermilon. I won't back down."

Marco chuckled, "You don't want to issue the challenge yourself, because then your insecurity would come to light. You've heard them saying I can defeat you. You want to prove them wrong but you're too proud to make the challenge yourself."

"I do not have to prove myself to you. I'm simply bored because no one really seeks to duel with me anymore."

"If you tell me where my brother is, then I'll ask you to one."

"Ah, my siblings had not shown so much affection for me before, now I'm jealous. They only ever coveted each other, dreaming of the riches they'll inherit. Now all that is gone, so are some of them. Your brother can wait, Lord Vermilon. He can go nowhere else, after all. You'll see him, at the director's bidding.

Marco clenched his fist, "Did you hurt him?"

She sighed, "The angels look down on unneeded violence, Lord Vermilon. But yes, he got hurt a bit. His fault solely because he tried to run. And we had to catch him. He should have healed by now. He had the healing talent of an archangel. I wish I possessed that too."

A while passed before the door opened and Director Garren trotted out, the top of his head barely reaching Marco's shoulder. "Shall we?"

Under a darkening sky, Marco followed them out of the building heading for the direction of the training circles. Inside, he spotted the House of Rules guarded by Eritch Corlissen along with a few other top scholars that included Theresa of Cotton Lake. She seemed abashed by the presence of the hulking figure of the lord from Ochre Pass, dwarfing her and all the rest of them.

Eritch sneered at him, "Is this the darkest of House Vermilon, or is there more you're hiding from us? I was born a hunter of fugitives and beasts. If he turns out harmful to the kingdom, we'll have no choice but to end him right here."

Marco gazed at him with disinterest.

Anisse Rothspiel laid a hand on the giant's shoulder. She barely reached his chest. "Leave that to the officers, Eritch. This is a matter for the kingdom."

"How so?"

"That's a secret."

"First I must settle my matters with him, my lords and ladies," declared Diana.

Professor Mallory cut in, "The House of Rules has been redesigned to contain Lucas in a room that deeply incites his fear, similar to the test, but now he would not be able to get out even if he surrenders."

Marco bolted in through the arching front door without a word. A familiar scene greeted him, from the time he took the same test just a year past. The brown mundane room of few furnishings. Instead of five doors, only one awaited him there at one face of the wall.

"Yes, he is in there," Professor Mallory said behind him. "Let me open it for you." She produced a key made of a tendril of holy energy and inserted in onto the keyhole. With a click, she pulled the door open.

Marco had never laid eyes upon such dense darkness before, so thick it allowed not a speck of light in or out. When Professor Mallory chanted DISPEL, the viscous darkness slowly crept away from the threshold until it seeped into where the wall met the floor, revealing Lucas's bound up figure.

His eyes were shut, his breathing laboured as though he was immersed in some dream. Marco jarred him awake, "Lucas!"

Just as every time Marco had shaken him from his stupor, his little brother slowly blinked his eyes open. He said weakly, "You're here? Where are we?" His voice sounded hoarse as though he had exhausted it. From crying or yelling, Marco could only guess.

When Lucas saw his captors, he asked them with the calm he could muster, "What did I do wrong?" His gaze lingered on Professor Hilbury who stood silently.

It was the director who answered, "You are accused of endangering your fellow students. If proven true, you shall meet the king's justice."

And to be associated with demons or their creations in any way meant capital punishment. Death.

"But I shall take my justice first," Diana stepped forward. "I ask you to a duel, Ghost of Vermil. If you win, I'll apologize for accusing you of the murder of David. If you refuse, the holy officers would take you right away. If you triumph, at least there would be one less charge against you."

"He's weak, Diana. Can't you see?" Marco said.

"He's only pretending to be weak."

Failing to prop himself up on fettered hands, Lucas inched closer, "I accept."

"Let's do it right now."

"Director!" Marco turned to him. Surely, he would not watch this folly go on. But the director announced, "I think the Coliseum will be fitting."

Professor Mallory freed Lucas from his shackles. "You can walk?"

He nodded.

"Boy, your healing is impressive. Its godly even," she remarked, checking Lucas's arm.

Lucas flinched away, ashamed.

"What else are you not telling me?" Marco confronted him. Perhaps, even when Lucas was about to die, he would keep his lips shut, resolved to take all his secrets to the grave. Or is he confident he'd survive this ordeal too. He could defeat a demonic monster, perhaps Diana Rupert was nothing but small fry to him.

The Coliseum was a short walk from the small henge circle. Lucas was limping but he could be faking it. Marco did not know what to believe anymore. He walked ahead of him to occupy a small seat in the front row, just so he could rush in and help in case Diana became bolder. Even now, as all the jigsaw pieces seemed to fall into place, even as they accused him of being demonic, even as Lucas continued to harbour distrust toward him, Marco still wanted to protect him.

Clasping a borrowed sword, Lucas limped under the light of torches to take his place at one end of the arena while Rupert stood a good distance from him. Director Garren and the professors climbed to the pulvinar in solemn quiet. Marco strangely felt as though this was an execution, not a duel.

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Someone must have spread the word for students flocked inside the stands in droves, some of them still Demach's blue robe, many in their tunics and shirts. From freshmen to seniors, they raucously filled the stands. Catherine and some of Marco's friends joined him.

"What on Michael's name is happening now?" Cat asked.

"I don't know. Rupert asked Lucas to a duel suddenly and the director and the professors just seemed to want to play along with it." He sighed, exasperated. "How did you hear?"

"The director's assistant announced it in the Concord," replied Oliver. "Must be something important so here we are. I'm betting on your little brother, by the way. Now we'll see how he fights, if he really deserves the eleventh rank."

Professor Hilbury shouted from atop their box, face barely discernible in the torchlight, "A duel between Lucas of Vermil and Diana of House Rupert. Begin."

The stands turned silent as they held their breaths what Lucas was about to showcase. It would also be the first time Marco would see him fight, besides from their sword practice.

Lucas stood there with a sword he got from the armoury. He pointed it at his opponent, placing one foot forward, ready to defend or charge. His stance had improved but Marco doubted whether his sword skills could clinch him a miracle win over Diana Rupert who was known to be an expert of most weapons that formed from her Die of Fate. And it was said that luck favoured her to an absurd degree, always pulling out a good weapon out of the Die's lottery.

Diana seemed to wait for Lucas to make the first move, wary. Yet when he simply stood there unmoving, she spoke, "If you're too afraid to make the first move, well then, let me." She produced a triangular from her pocket and waved it in front of Lucas.

Realizing what it was, Marco jolted upright.

Diana noticed him, and grinned before mouthing, "CAGE OF THE TRIBUNAL!"

She infused it with a profuse stream of holy energy. She said, voice loud enough for the farthest student to hear, "I seek justice over Lucas of Vermil for the murder of my brother."

The triangle emitted a sharp whistle and a blinding glow that began to envelope the whole arena. Tall bars made of light that outshone the flames on the iron cressets materialized from thin air, surrounding both Diana and her quarry. Then behind her rose the gargantuan frame of the Tribunal — a muscular spectre holding a huge mallet twice its size.

The invocation was a success. The bars of the cage had isolated Lucas and Diana from the rest of Demach. Lucas was left completely on his own.