Cries and Exams
“…I'm betting on the crying too.”
“Bayul, you—!”
Bayul deftly turned his head away, avoiding Quinn's glare, which trembled with a sense of betrayal.
“Yes! Two votes for crying. Innocent, you're our witness. Remember this well, and if anyone tries to deny it later, you testify. Got it?”
“Me? Why?”
“What do you mean why? You said you'd help Quinn too!”
“Oh, right. I did? Okay. Crying, crying, not crying. Input complete!”
Blissfully unaware of how absurd the logic was, Innocent beamed brightly and pointed at Bayul, Aidan, and Eli one by one. There was even a hint of cunning in the little spirit's manner.
“You lot are having far too much fun with this.”
Quinn could only stare, dumbfounded, at the scene unfolding right in front of him. It was ridiculous enough that he was the subject of the wager, but the condition—whether he would cry or not—only drew a hollow laugh. These people had all lost their minds.
“Quinn, you have to cry! Not shedding a single tear in a situation like this would just be too cold!”
“Exactly! Do it like you always do! You look like the kind of guy who wouldn't cry if you were stabbed with a needle—so come on, couldn't you cry just this once? Just do what you always do. That's all!”
“You little—! Do you want to die? Is life not exciting enough for you? Should I send a water arrow flying at each of you?”
The moment Quinn's warning ended, a water arrow rose to float behind him. It looked at least twice the size of the one they'd seen back at the ranch.
“Quinn! Rai and Aidan are just teasing you! They do this kind of thing all the time. Let's put the water arrows away and talk about this. Okay?”
“You made the bet too, didn't you?”
“I-I was only joking….”
Heat rose to Quinn's fine brow. Bayul hesitated, but knowing he was the only one who could rein Quinn in, he gathered his courage.
“Look, Quinn, we're indoors right now, and….”
How should one describe it—a scene straight out of a comedy? Eli and Aidan poked at Quinn, and Bayul tried to stop them while soothing Quinn's mounting fury, the whole cycle repeating itself over and over.
To Logan, all of it was wondrous—and enviable. It was like watching himself, Bayul, and Bayil of years past. Back then, they too had spent their days laughing, chattering, and playing pranks just like this. Every moment of it remained as a joyful, precious memory.
'Thank goodness.'
A flicker of jealousy stirred in his chest, but beneath it lay relief that Bayul had found such good friends. Seeing the boy smile so brightly made his own heart feel lighter.
'I'm sorry I couldn't tell you….'
Once again, he was walking away without saying what he needed to say.
Because you smile like this, so brightly.
When the time comes that the shock won't hit you as hard,
then I'll tell you.
Someday. I promise.
Loathing himself for the coward's excuse, Logan made that vow alone in his heart. As if it alone understood him, Gideon glowed with a faint, gentle light within his coat.
Chapter 3 — First Exam
Dong— dong—
“Time! Put your pens down and hand in your papers!”
As the bell rang, Professor Vans slammed his pointer down, announcing the end of the exam.
“Ahh, Professor! Just one more minute!”
“Wait, I just need to fix this one thing!”
“Silence! Can you not get up when you're told?”
Wails that bordered on outright begging rose from every corner of the room, but Professor Vans was unmoved. He leveled his pointer at the dawdling students in warning.
“You should have studied ahead of time! If you don't take your hands off those papers right now, I'm marking you as a zero!”
It was no idle threat. Professor Vans was famous throughout Carrington for his strictness, and he never, ever cut anyone slack. He was, in fact, the proud originator of the academy's highest annual failure rate.
“Hurry up!”
Having heard all about this from upperclassmen beforehand, the students' movements turned remarkably swift.
“Aidan! Over here!”
Bayul and Eli had finished their exams early and were basking in the sun in the plaza. If the two of them ranked in the upper tier for the language of Ga, Aidan sat somewhere in the lower-middle.
“Hey, did you two write an answer for the last question? Oh—of course you did, that's why you're out here already.”
The moment he spotted his friends, Aidan launched straight into exam talk, his expression sour.
“That fill-in-the-blank one?”
“Yeah, I get that you're supposed to turn the casual form into the polite form, but my mind just went blank. Ugh, why is the language of Ga so hard? I've been racking my brain so much it feels like it's about to explode!”
Aidan shook his head with a scrunched-up face.
“The language of Ga and I just don't get along. Who on earth told me to learn this stuff?”
“A foreign language is an elective, you know. You picked it yourself—who are you blaming?”
Every student at Carrington Academy was required to study at least one foreign language. As a transfer student, Bayul had had his chosen for him by Professor Rothius, but ordinarily, first-years selected their own.
If a chosen language didn't suit them, they could switch the following semester, but earning the certificate of completion required passing the final exam held at the end of the year. Switching languages mid-course could therefore be a genuine gamble. For that matter, the certificate could later serve as a teaching qualification for that language.
“Don't you know the language of Ga is all the rage these days? That's why Professor Rothius put it on your class roster. Try a little harder.”
“This isn't a problem you solve with effort! I can barely manage the alphabet, let alone actual questions. Why does one word have ten different meanings? The word order annoys me too. And don't even get me started on past tense. Anyway, must be nice for you two, being so good at it!”
“Aren't you being awfully defeatist? That's not like you. If you hate it that much, why not just switch to something else now?”
“I'd love to, but there's nothing else worth taking.”
“What do you mean, nothing? You're in the Knight Department—wouldn't Denarid be a good fit?”
The Ten Years' War had ended, but imperial troops were still garrisoned in the Kingdom of Denarid. A knight's commission combined with fluency in Denarid would make deployment there far easier—something that could prove a considerable asset to Aidan's future career.
“Already got that one.”
“What's that supposed to mean? You're saying you're good at Denarid?”
“I learned it as a kid. My family's in shipping, remember? Writing it gives me trouble, but reading and speaking it are easy.”
“…This might be a strange question, but are there any other languages you happen to speak?”
“Hmm, Andoran and Chalsedon, roughly?”
“Hey! Are you messing with me right now? Huh?”
At Eli's explosive shout, Aidan's eyes went wide.
“Whoa! What's with the yelling all of a sudden? What did I even do?”
“You just said you were jealous of us for being good at the language of Ga—and then it turns out you speak three languages! You're just showing off, aren't you? Admit it!”
“I'm not! I genuinely am jealous of you two! The language of Ga and I don't mix, I'm telling you! I don't think I'm getting that certificate!”
“This guy, right to the very end—!”
“What's all this noise about?”
“Quinn!”
Just as Eli and Aidan's voices threatened to climb even higher, Quinn appeared, having finished his exam.
“Weren't we supposed to study at the library? Why's the mood like this? Are we going or not?”
“We are, we are! Aidan, Rai, let's go!”
Today was the day the whole group had agreed to study together at the library. It had taken a full two days just to talk the reluctant Quinn into it. There was no room for dawdling now. Bayul grabbed Eli and Aidan under each arm and hauled them toward the library.
“Quinn, perfect timing. So, Aidan here—this guy….”
“I keep telling you, it wasn't me! If you put it like that, I'm genuinely being wronged here! Quinn, listen up. So here's how it happened….”
Even on the walk to the library, the two of them refused to yield an inch to each other's arguments. Quinn didn't seem to be listening to any of it particularly closely, yet both of them carried on with passionate explanations, each hoping he'd take their side.
“Ugh! Wait—what is that smell?”
A foul stench assailed their noses just then.
“Guuuuys!”
And then, with a resounding yell, someone crashed into the group from behind.
“Ah—!”
The trouble was, first, that the impact was considerable, and second, that it caught them completely off guard. Bayul's two feet tangled mid-stride, and he lost his balance and staggered. He thrust his hands out in a hurry, but he couldn't reach his friends in time and only clawed at empty air.
“Bayul!”
Bayul went down in an ungraceful heap. It was lucky, if nothing else, that the ground wasn't stone—but the surface was uneven enough that a scrape or two seemed hard to avoid.
“Ahh, Bayul!”
The culprit behind this whole disaster was none other than Schubik, who had come bounding out of nowhere. The boy had gone deathly pale, and even his words came out stammering.
“A-are you okay? You're not hurt?”
Bayul had fallen face-first, so no one could see his expression. When he didn't move an inch where he lay, everyone's hearts lurched at once.
“Don't tell me he's fainted again?”
“N-no, right?”
“Bayul! Bayul!”
Eli hurriedly bent down to examine him.
“Wh-what do we do if he doesn't get up?”
Schubik chewed anxiously at his lower lip.
“Uhh… Rai… I'm fine….”
Thankfully, Bayul was unharmed. When he raised a hand to signal he was all right, Schubik let out a long, relieved breath as though he'd been granted a stay of execution.
“Thanks.”
Taking Eli's outstretched hand, Bayul got to his feet.
“You all right?”
“Mm-hm, just got a little dirt on me.”
With an awkward smile, Bayul brushed the dirt from his uniform shirt and trousers.
“Bayul, are you really okay?”
“So it was you, Schubik?”
Only now did he register who the culprit was. Still anxious, Schubik's eyes darted restlessly as he looked Bayul over.
“You're not hurt anywhere? I thought for sure you'd scraped your knee. What about your hands? Your hands are fine?”
“Yep, see for yourself.”
Bayul obligingly held up his palms for everyone to see.
“Look, perfectly fine. Not a scratch.”
He even bent his knees and did a little march in place. Aside from a few strands of hair ruffled loose by the wind, he was no different from before the fall.
“Weird. The ground's all bumpy—I was sure you'd skin yourself. How are you not hurt at all?”