The Ghost of Vermil-Chapter 49: Apple XIV

It was both relief and disappoint that Apple felt as the Tribunal's ghostly towering figure vanished in the air. As nearly every Demach scholar, it was her first time seeing the Tribunal as well, its otherworldly scent washing away the smells of maple and sand and sea and mortals. It was vast like a bottomless ocean with no start nor end to it — a power that seemed familiar to her, one she had known before. It made her nostalgic in a sense. Part of her wanted to see the Tribunal's power too. Yet the other part heaved a sigh of relief that Lucas of Vermil emerged unhurt, albeit his hair was tousled, his breath strained.

The pronouncement of the blue spectre on Lucas's guilt was not as much of a shock of a revelation to her as she had dreaded. Somehow, she had always known.

"What is happening to Diana Rupert?" Yuri blurted out beside her. The other students were in a similar uproar.

Diana had doubled over, supporting herself on both arms as her nose dripped with red. Apple could sense the artifact's scent surging into Diana, filling her up like a barrel of water being forced down her throat. She could smell her pain and her struggle.

When Lucas began crossing the gap between them, Demach watched in apprehension.

"He's going to kill her, isn't he?" Hannah whimpered.

Apple could not know. The lad before them was a man of mysteries. Nobody knew who he was, what he would and could do. He was angelic of face but he reeked like a demon on occasions. He acted timid and aloof yet perhaps it was intentional for he had secrets to hide.

Lucas spoke to Diana in a voice the audience could not hear. She appeared upset, so probably it was to anger her. Yet the lady had always been furious at him without him doing anything, so Apple could not really tell for sure. The director and the professors on the pulvinar had become agitated. Director Garren craned over the wall of the platform, the light of the bars of the Cage splashing his worried face with an azure glow. Professors James Hilbury and Mallory were telling him something, perhaps convincing him to step in.

Yet they knew, as Apple did, that intervention was impossible. Not as long as the Cage covered the arena.

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"Even as I bleed myself to death, I'll hold you here until the holy officers come!" She heard her yell.

Lucas seemed to argue with her in his soft voice. But she would not yield.

"You only want to escape. Stop pretending to care. You killed my brother. Don't you deny it."

To this, he shook his head and uttered something that infuriated Diana even more. Chanting the VIRTUE OF COURAGE, she summoned a Halo — a wheel of teeth that churned with the whirring sound of doom.

Then suddenly, the triangular pendant gave off the brightest light Apple had ever seen. It dissolved the bars that the Cage of the Tribunal had summoned, washing over the stands. She closed her eyes and covered them with her arm. It was all she could do to avoid being blinded. She pinched her nostrils shut for the pungent rich scent of the artifact's power threatened to burn her sense of smell.

Gasps erupted as they braced for this strange power. It was followed by a stillness then soft murmurs as they uncovered their eyes when the light disappeared as abruptly as it had flared. They gazed down at the ginger head lying on the sand, the blue bars of light now gone. She was still alive — barely — her breath ragged and slow, her right hand clasping the triangular pendant, now grey and broken to shards.

"He's gone!" They shouted.

Indeed, Lucas was nowhere to be seen. He disappeared with the light. But Apple could sniff it. The trace of a power so vast and unfathomable, too similar to the Tribunal's, right where he had stood. He had used some spell there, in the brief moment when the crowd covered their eyes. It seems the power of the Cage had been transferred to him. She realized. It's not just demonic energy. He could smell as though he possessed holy energy too. But what does it mean now? They said he's a demon. But how can a demonic creature hold holy energy. It utterly confounded her. It did not make sense anymore. She thought she had started to figure it out.

I can smell him! Such a vast power could be sensed even from a distance. He's close by. He's still in Demach.

While the scholars and professors rushed to the arena in concern for Diana's health, Apple stood up and strode to the nearest exit.

"Where are you going?" Yuri asked, but the gentle expression on his face told her he already knew.

"He might hurt you," said Hannah. "I heard the officers will be here soon, Apple. They might already be here."

The holy officers were the least of her worries at the moment. They are here. They have planned for it all this time. And they won't fail. No matter how long, no matter how much blood is spilt, we always succeeded. "I just want to tell him something," she answered. She was not certain what words exactly but she wanted to speak to him. She felt that she should. She turned away from her friends. She should not drag them into it.

As she entered the shadow of the threshold, she instinctively looked back for she felt that someone's eyes were fixed on her.

Across from the opposite side of the stands, Marco Vermilon gazed at her knowingly. She swivelled on her feet and quickened her pace.

Apple walked briskly across the brick-laden pathway, guided by her nose. Amidst the scents of autumn and the damp soil, of the night breeze that brought hints of the Pearl Sea, Apple's sense was focused on that thick redolence of an angel's power now being emitted by a mortal.

She tracked it to the small henge circle where the House of Rules stood at the centre, quiet, lightless and seemingly empty. But Lucas was inside, she was certain.

Silently she opened the arched door and stepped inside. She found his pale figure stepping out of the door on the opposite wall of the living room, face illuminated by a faintly lit gas lamp, emanating with a fragrance so overwhelming. She smelled no power from the lamp though. It was no artifact but he risked getting caught in order to retrieve it. "Apple..." he whispered, "My lady, what are you doing here?"

I'm no lady. Now that she was face to face with him alone, she suddenly forgot how to speak.

"I'm sorry, my lady, I have to go."

Where? Go where? She wanted to ask. But her lips remained shut, her voice trapped.

He regarded her with that calm yet ungentle expression he always carried, trod past her and swung open the front door.

"Lucas," she found her voice at last. "I'm sorry."

His brows furrowed. "What for?"

"For avoiding you."

He shook his head. "You don't need to feel sorry, my lady. After what you've seen and heard tonight, you have every right to be scared of me."

Am I scared of him? Is that the reason? She felt revolted by him whenever he bore the stench of the demon but she never became afraid of him. Aye, she felt uneasy. But if it was because of fear, it was not towards him. "The Tribunal has declared your guilt. The Tribunal never lies. I want to understand why you did it."

His tranquillity became dabbed with sadness. "I can't remember, my lady. I wish I could so I could explain it to you. But I am as clueless as you are. I have to go now. I hope you become a great commander of the army."

"Stay. I can help you."

He looked at her vacantly. Under the faint orange glow of the lamp, it seemed his skin had colour and health to it. He said, "This place is not for me. I tried, or maybe I didn't. I didn't know how to try honestly. But at least I made a friend."

"But where are you going?"

He pursed his lips. "I'm not sure, my lady."

"You cannot escape Gallenport right now, Lucas."

"What do you mean?" He shut the door in alarm.

"They're coming for you."

"The officers? That's why I need to go. I don't want to be put in some dark prison again. I hate dungeons. I hate dark places."

"No, not the officers," she explained. "The exorcists. They think you're a demon or possessed by one. Either way, they have come to get rid of you. But I can convince them. Trust me just this once. They'll listen to me."

She walked toward him but he stepped back.

"Forgive me, my lady. I cannot trust you until you have severed your strings."

There he goes again making me uncomfortable. But she steeled her heart. "What strings are you talking about?"

He lowered the lamp and crossed the gap between them as thought to study her face closer. "We're similar, you and me. We don't have free will. We don't have choices. We move as the hand above plays the strings, my lady. I want to be free of them. Do you?" He held her fingers. His touch was very cold.

Why does he need to speak in riddles? But she had no time to let him explain. She withdrew her hand from him. "Stay here. I'll talk to them."

He retreated from her. "Farewell, my lady." He opened the door and dashed into the deepening night.

She saw his shadow together with the streak of his lamp moving towards the Morning Garden where the Guardian's hunched figure loomed over flowering hedges. She darted out of the House of Rules and followed him.

She rounded another henge circle and stumbled upon a ring of men clad in white shimmering armour, a three-pointed star shining on their chests. Numbering to not less than a dozen, they had surrounded Lucas who held the lamp close to his chest.

"Lucas of Vermil, for the crime of harming students of Demach by releasing cursed beings in the Academy, you are being charged with the crime of committing a demonic act. You shall face the King's Judgment," one of them declared.

Was he responsible for the breakout? The incident where he emerged a hero, yet now the crime of instigating it was added to his growing list of atrocities. Apple could not believe her ears. A while ago she had regarded him in a different light, only for it to be marred again by another accusation.

"Please leave me alone."

The soldiers had no intention of granting his plea.

"STRIKE!" The captain of the officers shouted.

The officers heeded the command. A long spike of ice materialized in the air and shot down towards Lucas. Untrained in combat, the lad tried but failed to evade. It impaled him right on his lungs. Another spear made of metal fixed his foot to the bricks. He screamed in pain as another needle struck his neck right on the jugular. If it were any other person, he would have likely succumbed to death by now. But Lucas was not ordinary.

A huge ball of white flame materialized in the air. "Burn!" The soldier shouted, throwing it.

It seemed they had no plans of letting Lucas meet the King's Judgment after he cast the spell.

"DIVINE PROVIDENCE!" Someone shouted. A thin shield surrounded Lucas. It held against the heat and impact of the white flame.

"You dare stand in the way of the King's Judgment."

"Only the King can carry out the King's Judgment, unless you've been ordered to kill him right here," Marco Vermilon said, stepping into the circle of white-clad soldiers. "With the way you're treating him, only his corpse will be meeting the King's Judgement."

"Lord Marco Vermilon," the captain recognized him, "Are you forfeiting your place in the King's Holy Army?"

"Ser, with all due respect, if this is how you treat your subjects, I would gladly do so"

The captain of the soldiers grunted and clenched his gloved fist. "Fine then. I think he's immobilized. We'll take him."

They dispelled their conjured weapons. The ice melted while the metallic needles vanished into thin air. Lucas slumped down onto the ground, motionless and bleeding, his lamp clutched to his stomach to protect it. Apple could feel him consuming holy energy as the blood stopped dripping. He twitched and tried to move despite the hole through his chest and his foot.

He gazed up at his older brother and muttered something so softly Apple could barely hear.

"If you take me out of here, I'll tell you everything. Lucas reached out with his hand, Marco did not offer help.

Instead he shook his head. "Even in such a desperate situation, you lie to me."

"The breakout was an accident. I swear..." Lucas swept his eyes fearfully at the soldiers closing in on them.

"You cannot keep on running away from your transgressions, Lucas. You shall face the King's Judgment. If it was an accident, the Scales shall judge you fairly. And the punishment for David's death might be painful but as long as it was not your intention, it shall spare your life."

Shuffling on his elbow, Lucas crept on the ground towards him. "Forgive me brother." He held Marco by the ankle.

"What are you doing? Ugh—" Marco lurched forward as a stream of light travelled from his body towards the point where Lucas contacted him.

"He's hostile! Engage!" The soldiers brought out their weapons at once, a protective halo appearing above them after someone chanted a virtue spell.

Lucas cried, "INVIOLABLE EDICT!"