The Perfect Knight and the Illusionist (BL)

MARIUS

The rest of the day at the lodge passed in blissful idleness, something I was taught was a form of vice, an unaffordable luxury enjoyed only by people who needed it the least. On one hand, I thought it was acceptable as the purpose of this trip was Skylark’s recovery, as Falken had recommended, and the mission was an overwhelming success. But on the other hand, I found myself starting to secretly enjoy the aimless spending of time, to the extent that I wondered for a moment whether it would actually be justifiable to incorporate it as part of a weekly routine: "Forced Recovery Period through Mental and Physical Inactivity" sounded like a regimen that almost made sense.

The carriage from the Academy came to pick us up in the late afternoon. I stayed vigilant on the way back, recalling the ambush by the bandits we had experienced last time, but thankfully the ride back to the campus was uneventful.

As soon as we returned, I headed to Falken’s office as instructed.

"How was your trip, Marius?" Falken asked me, bringing his tea cup to his lips.

"The recovery trip was a complete success, Sir. Skylark’s condition seems to have improved so much," I replied gratefully.

"Did he ’speak with’ Big Sis Sally or Blabber Becky during the trip?"

"Not at all, Sir."

"Did he sleep well at night?"

"Yes, Sir, though he woke up early."

"How early?"

"Shortly after sunrise, Sir."

"I see," he said, sipping his tea.

He then put his cup down on the table and asked me a series of further questions.

"What would you say were some of the things that made him feel better, in particular?"

"Food, as always, and outdoor activities, chatting, and he seemed... rather fond of music, Sir."

"Music?"

"Janice sang for us in the evening. She was a fantastic singer."

"What kind of music was it?" Falken asked, his eyes sharpening.

"It wasn’t a song I was familiar with, Sir, but it was a whimsical song that felt almost like the telling of a folktale."

"Tell me more," Falken said, leaning forward.

"He seemed to immerse himself in the music. When the song was mellow and slow, he closed his eyes and sank deep into his seat. When the song rose and became dramatic, he rose from his seat and clenched his fists. His body... followed the music. Both the melody and the rhythm, Sir."

As I was speaking, Falken kept tapping the tip of his thumb against the tip of his index finger.

"And what did he do when the song was over?"

"He thanked us."

"’Us’? Not Janice?"

Now that he asked me, that was kind of odd. But I clearly remembered that he said, "Thank you, everyone," not "Thank you, Janice." Back then, it all sounded natural and nothing out of the ordinary, but when Falken singled out the phrase like that, it did become an interesting point to consider.

I admired the man’s attentiveness.

"Yes, Sir."

Falken tapped his fingers a few more times, stopped, took another sip of his tea, and leaned back in his seat.

"Skylark will spend one more night in the recovery room, and will be allowed to return to class and stay in his dormitory after that."

"Yes, Sir."

"Marius, in your opinion," Falken said, his voice laced with genuine curiosity, "do you think Skylark is ready for that?"

I gave it some thought.

It was unusual that I was being asked to provide my own opinion, but if Falken asked me, it must mean that he saw value in hearing it, which meant that it was my responsibility to provide an insight that was of value.

I had better be honest here.

"I believe... he is ready, Sir. But—"

Falken tilted his head, his eyes fixed on mine, waiting for me to continue.

"I am afraid it is difficult to predict if he would continue being okay, Sir."

"Please explain," Falken said, smiling.

"From what I have seen, his current state is very good. I might even say that he is getting by better than before the... incident. But there is no telling how he would react should anything unforeseen happen in the future."

"And THAT, precisely, Marius, is why I need you by his side to inform me of his progress."

"I will do that, Sir. Without fail."

"Good. I put my trust in you, Marius."

"I feel honored, Sir."

Then I saw my own tea cup placed on the table, which I hadn’t touched yet.

"May I, Sir?" I asked Falken.

"Go ahead," he said, gesturing for me to relax and drink the tea.

I cleared my throat, took a sip, and asked him,

"If it is okay for me to ask... may I ask... I mean, Sir, I’m truly grateful that the Academy is providing so much for Skylark... a classmate of mine... but I thought it might help a little... if I understood the situation better."

Falken stared at me without blinking, took a sip of his own tea, and asked in return,

"How would that help anything?"

I immediately realized my mistake.

"I’m terribly sorry, Sir. Questioning the process was inappropriate—"

"No, Marius."

Falken stopped me, raising his hand.

"You are right to question. And with understanding comes better mission efficiency."

I felt instantly relieved.

"But, Marius, it is one thing to understand the purpose of a mission for better execution. It is another thing to start making uninformed decisions based on the assumption that one understands enough."

"Yes, Sir."

"I will be open with you, Marius, and tell you something, in the hope that it will help you with what you are tasked to do as well."

"Yes, Sir."

"Skylark has an extraordinary gift that neither he nor anyone at the Academy understands fully... yet."

"You mean... his magical ability?"

"Whatever it may be—keep an eye out for it. Don’t assume or try to predict what it may be. If you notice anything extraordinary, report it to me."

"Yes, Sir."

Extraordinary.

I thought the boy was, too.

But I couldn’t think of what kind of gift would make him so special to the Academy.

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