The Hand That Stole Neris's Record Board
The campsite was not yet complete.
Pegs were driven into the damp earth, and wet cloaks hung from low branches. Every time the ropes used to pitch the tents brushed against their palms, the scent of the forest grew thicker.
Cerise checked the trees ahead once more.
Her ankle, which had been caught in a stake trap just moments ago, seemed fine, but she made a conscious effort to walk even straighter.
Behind that straight back, Lya was staring at Ronan's wrist.
"I told you not to twist it," she said.
"I was only holding the tent rope."
"You use your wrist to hold ropes, too."
As Ronan was about to reply, Neris chimed in.
"To be precise, the wrist, fingers, and the muscle beneath the thumb moved in unison. Lya's point is mostly valid."
Lya looked at Neris.
Cerise turned to look as well.
Even under their combined gaze, Neris did not stop her pen.
From that moment on, the recording felt less like research and more like a battle for territory.
Lya turned back to Neris.
"Are you on my side today?"
"If Ronan's hand is ruined, I lose a subject of observation."
"I would have been grateful if you hadn't added that last part."
Ronan chuckled.
The camp preparations slowly fell into place. Dorman, true to form, did not carry anyone else's luggage. He carried only his own shield and backpack, propping them up at the entrance of the tent.
Ben gathered dry branches, while Cerise readjusted the spacing of the tent ropes.
Neris placed her observation board on top of a small wooden box.
It was a thin board bound with leather straps. Several sheets of paper were clipped to it, and a small iron ring hung from the edge.
She sat before it and opened her ink bottle.
The back of Ronan's hand, the spot where the Phantom Sword had vanished, the direction of the knot Cerise had reversed, and the scent of the wax on the black envelope they had opened by the rules before the first marker.
Neris's notes were brief, but nothing seemed to be missing.
Except for one line, which was left blank.
Ronan stared at the blank line.
"Why did you leave that part blank?"
Neris paused the tip of her quill.
"I do not write down what I have not yet verified."
"You don't?"
"I will not record your surprised expression. It is insulting."
"Thanks for that."
Lya reapplied the Silverleaf Herb poultice to Ronan's wrist.
As she tied the ends of the cloth to keep it from unraveling, Neris's eyes followed the knot.
"That knot is also worth recording."
"No, it isn't."
"Why?"
"I write the medical records."
Neris paused for a moment.
Normally, she would have argued, but she simply set her quill down.
"Then I will leave it blank."
Lya's hands slowed for a fraction of a second.
A blank space.
The idea of Neris not writing something down sounded bizarre. She was someone who had hovered her fingernails over an envelope in the library out of sheer desire to open it, someone who had scraped up even the pine resin from the carriage, and someone who hadn't missed the scent of wax on the handle of the laundry room bucket.
A line left blank by someone like her did not seem like ignorance; it looked like she was hiding something.
Ronan realized this as well.
So, he did not press further.
Just then, the sound of rustling fabric came from the direction of the supply tent.
It was different from the wind.
It was short and hurried.
Neris's eyes darted down to where her observation board had been.
It was empty.
The board that had been on the wooden box just moments ago was gone.
Lya gasped.
Cerise's hand was already on her scabbard.
As Dorman went to lift his shield, Ronan spoke in a low voice.
"Not yet."
"But they took it."
"Someone let them take it."
Neris did not stand up.
She stared at the spot where the board had been. There was a thin drag mark in the dirt—a trace left when someone hastily pulls a board away to hide it.
The mark led behind the supply tent.
And behind it, through a gap in the wet canvas, a blue sleeve was visible.
The student with the blue sleeves was crouching down. He had Neris's papers spread across his knees and was hurriedly copying them.
Phantom Sword residue, first marker, envelope wax...
He muttered to himself, then smirked.
"For a genius mage, she sure hides a lot of things."
The moment Cerise tried to step forward, Lya grabbed Ronan's wrist.
Tightly.
Ronan stopped.
Lya looked at her own hand as if surprised by her own action, but she did not let go.
"Don't strike him right away this time."
"Why?"
"Neris hasn't moved yet."
At those words, Neris turned her gaze to Lya.
Lya did not blush. Instead, she tightened her grip on Ronan's wrist a little more.
"There's a line Neris left blank."
Neris slowly stood up.
"Lya."
"Yes?"
"Your judgment just now was quite good."
"You could just say thank you."
"Thank you."
Lya was left speechless.
In that brief window, Cerise slipped around to the other side of the supply tent. She didn't even draw her sword. She simply blocked his path.
Only then did the blue-sleeved student look up.
"What? No need to look at me like that. Is it a crime to look at public records during a public training session?"
He held up the observation board and shook it.
"If you're a genius, you should share. Or are your records just a bluff?"
Neris stepped closer.
"Give it back."
"And if I don't want to?"
"What you just copied isn't my record."
The blue-sleeved student sneered.
"But it's in your handwriting."
"Because you copied even the blank space."
At those words, the surrounding students turned their heads one by one.
Near the supply tent, the freshmen fetching water, Dorman carrying stakes, and even Ben holding firewood all stopped in their tracks.
The blue-sleeved student stared down at the observation board for a moment.
On the paper he had been copying onto, lines identical to Neris's writing were laid out.
Ronan's Phantom Sword residue.
The black envelope before the first marker.
The direction of Cerise's knot.
And the line that should have been blank.
There, the blue-sleeved student had written in his own hand:
Incomplete
His face stiffened.
"If it's blank, I can just fill it in."
"That line wasn't left blank for you to steal."
Neris's voice wasn't loud.
Yet, a heavy silence fell over the front of the supply tent.
Clutching the observation board to his chest, the blue-sleeved student tried to back away.
But Cerise stood in his path.
"That way is blocked."
"Move. Does a prestigious knightly family protect other people's research notes now?"
"A hand that steals from others has no right to choose its path."
Gritting his teeth, the blue-sleeved student gripped the ink bottle.
"Then you won't be getting this back either."
He made a move to throw the ink bottle onto the ground.
At that instant, Ronan's finger twitched ever so slightly.
The light was barely visible.
A single silver line lightly tapped the iron ring of the observation board.
Click.
Simultaneously, the leather strap wrapped around the iron ring unraveled.
The blue-sleeved student hugged the board tighter, and the pressure squeezed the neck of the ink bottle.
The ink didn't fall downward.
Instead, it erupted upward from the bottle.
A stream of black liquid shot up the back of his hand. It traveled past his wrist, bled into the edge of his sleeve, and splattered onto the paper he had been copying on.
The word "Incomplete" he had written was drenched in ink and smeared backward.
And in the next moment, the ink stamped itself directly onto his chin and cheek.
An unfinished word.
The letters were crooked but clear.
Someone near the supply tent failed to stifle a laugh.
The blue-sleeved student's face was stained pitch black.
He hurriedly tried to wipe his face, but the same ink was on the back of his hand. The more he wiped, the more the letters smeared.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
Ronan spoke.
"Those are your own words."
"You rigged this!"
"I only touched the iron ring. It was your own hand that squeezed the bottle until it burst."
Neris retrieved her observation board.
She checked the paper first. There were no tears.
Then she looked at the blank space.
It was still empty.
Only then did Neris's shoulders relax slightly.
"Ronan."
"Yeah?"
"Can I record this one?"
Lya spoke up immediately.
"It's already recorded on his face."
Dorman couldn't hold back his laughter this time.
Cerise's lips twitched upward ever so slightly.
Unable to bear the stares, the blue-sleeved student tried to retreat. But when Cerise lightly tapped the ground with the tip of her scabbard, he couldn't take another step back.
"Say that you stole the observation board."
"I just..."
"Louder."
The blue-sleeved student's throat quivered.
Ink dripped down his cheek.
"I stole it."
"Stole what?"
"Neris's observation board."
Those words lingered in front of the supply tent.
It was the statement needed before any apology.
Neris did not nod. Nor did she offer forgiveness. Instead, she tucked the observation board inside her coat.
"Next time, if you want to read my writing, just ask."
The blue-sleeved student spoke, sounding aggrieved.
"And will you show it to me if I do?"
"No."
The response came so quickly that a few students laughed again.
Neris continued.
"But the rejection is mine to give. I won't let your hand make the choice for me."
Hearing that, Lya let go of Ronan's wrist.
Her fingertips lingered for a moment before pulling away.
Ronan did not ignore it.
"Thanks for stopping me earlier."
Lya let out a soft breath.
"I felt like Neris needed to speak for herself."
"It was the right call."
Neris approached, clutching the board.
"Lya."
"Yes?"
"You just protected my blank space."
Lya blinked in surprise.
It wasn't what she had thought was jealousy.
She had thought Neris watched Ronan for too long, touched the back of his hand too often, and drew too close under the guise of taking notes.
But that blank space wasn't left empty because Neris wanted to know more about Ronan.
It was a space kept hidden so that Ronan wouldn't be put in danger—a secret that wasn't meant to be revealed yet.
Lya nodded slowly.
"Tell me next time if there's a blank space like that. So I won't try to fill it in carelessly."
Neris stared at Lya for a moment.
"I will."
Ronan didn't laugh as he listened to their conversation.
Instead, he looked at the iron ring on Neris's board.
The spot he had flicked earlier was slightly bent.
"Want me to fix the ring?"
Neris held the board even closer to her chest.
"Later. I want to hold onto it for now."
"You lack faith."
"It's the opposite."
Neris did not look away.
"Because I trust you, I will protect it myself."
Those words carried very little explanation, which was unlike Neris.
That made them all the clearer.
Behind the supply tent, the blue-sleeved student was still rubbing his face. But no one helped him. The word "Incomplete" had only smeared wider across his cheek.
Ben said quietly as he moved a water bucket,
"That's not coming off before tonight."
Dorman nodded.
"He won't be stealing anyone else's board after this."
Cerise turned back toward the entrance of the camp.
"Good. We finish the tents, and the owner protects the records."
At her command, the team moved.
Lya organized the herbal cloths, Dorman set up his shield, and Ben stacked the firewood.
Neris placed the observation board on her lap.
Then, she drew a tiny dot next to the blank line.
Ronan asked,
"What does that mean?"
"It means I won't speak of it yet."
"So it's incomplete today as well."
Neris looked behind the ink-stained supply tent.
"No. Today, it is complete."
She closed the blank space.
"Because now I know who must not fill it."
The forest grew progressively darker.
The tent ropes were tied securely, and the observation board was back in Neris's embrace.
And behind the supply tent, the indelible letters still remained.
An unfinished record.
This time, it was a record the thief had to read on his own face.