The Perfect Knight and the Illusionist (BL)
Chapter 9: Memories

Chapter 9: Memories

MARIUS

I never had any aptitude for magic. Father always said it was no cause for concern, and all the instructors who helped me train reassured me that it was normal too. Valenkrafts have always been distinguished in martial arts, from swordsmanship to archery, from hand-to-hand combat to cavalry. But magic wasn’t a gift that ran in our blood. I never thought of it as a problem either.

But that didn’t mean I wasn’t fascinated with magic. When I was a child, there was an elderly maid who worked at our home briefly. Perhaps only for half a year or so. Her name was Joan, but I always called her Aunty Joan. She was very kind and, I admit now, indulgent. She would secretly give me sweets, which were normally only given to me as a special reward. I didn’t know where she got them, for the sweets she gave me were not the usual kind Mother gave me. But more than that, we shared a bigger secret.

Aunty Joan could use magic—something that she wasn’t supposed to do. There was no reason for a maid to learn magic, let alone practice it. Granted, it wasn’t any sort of combat magic. But she could conjure up a small dancing flame, or a pretty flower, or droplets of water floating above her palm. I was delighted whenever she showed them to me and I was very sad when, one day, I came back home from the Royal Knights Youth Club, looked for Aunty Joan, only to be told by another maid that she no longer worked for us.

I never found out why she suddenly left, and I never heard anyone say a single word about her since.

So when Isabelle, the lady who was with Skylark at the earlier... incident... made the magic-measuring rocks glow red on one side and blue on the other, I instantly recognized that she was different. It wasn’t just that she had aptitudes for two different types of magic, but it was the exact shades of red and blue with which the rocks glowed. Those were the distinct shades of the dancing flames and water drops that Aunty Joan had mesmerized me with.

Once it registered in my mind, I told myself that I would investigate the matter further at some point. Perhaps—just perhaps—Isabelle knew something about this special gift.

But that minor intrigue turned into a complete shock when Skylark—of all people—showed the exact same aptitudes. Others, even those skilled in magic, may not have noticed how peculiar and beautiful those red and blue glows were. But I knew that this wasn’t normal.

Then something even more extraordinary happened—the lights started to move, converge, and transfer. And then—

"Skylark—"

I blurted out as I saw the boy’s legs give way. I jumped out of my seat like a lion whose tail had been stepped on, and my body bolted toward him of its own accord. I wasn’t fast enough to catch him before he hit the ground—a failure, considering how close I was sitting—but I managed to get to him before anyone else.

I quickly checked his pulse. It was there, but faint and slow. I brought my ear to his nose to listen for breathing—it was labored and the breath was hot. I looked up at Sir. Kvratchka in a slight panic,

"Sir—"

"Take him to the infirmary, Marius."

Without a second thought, I picked up the boy and ran out of the classroom. I knew where the infirmary was. I had been attending the Royal Knights Academy’s Youth and Junior programs for years. This wasn’t the first time I had helped bring a classmate to the infirmary. Accidents and injuries happen during training. But no one I had carried in my arms had ever felt this light before.

I slammed the door open as I arrived, which startled the doctor on duty—Dr. Branson, who had helped treat my own injuries many times before.

"Dr. Branson! This boy has fainted!"

The doctor rushed to the bed where I was already putting Skylark down and asked me,

"What happened?"

"He collapsed during the magic aptitude test."

The doctor, who was checking the boy’s pulse and heartbeat, paused and asked again,

"What’s his name?"

"Skylark. Leo Skylark."

Dr. Branson then stood straight, turned to face me, and said calmly,

"Thank you, Marius. You may return to your class now."

"Is... he going to be okay?"

"Yes. There is no need to be alarmed. He will be treated appropriately."

There was nothing more for me to say or do. But as I was leaving, I just didn’t quite feel comfortable with it. I stopped by the door and asked the doctor again.

"Dr. Branson. Is he going to be okay?"

"He most certainly will be. Please take your leave now. Thank you."

Before I could say anything further, Dr. Branson came to me, gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder, and gestured for me to leave, which I reluctantly obeyed.

I thought of the beautiful red and blue glows. I thought of Aunty Joan’s kind smile.

And I thought of how I never got to see her again.