บท 23: Professor Gemstone survives an assassination attempt! part 4 (23)

Saera Ilya faced Ezera with a dangerous air, his voice filled with a violent urgency, something between deep fury and perhaps a bit of fear? lacing through it.

Ezera, stunned, didn't speak.

"Do you want to die? Take that off? Now!"

"I-"

"Just do it."

"Wait a damn second!" Ezera snapped.

His head was ringing with the sudden silence that followed. Ilya didn't let him go, his grasp still somewhat painful, but he had taken his distance, for which Ezera was thankful. It gave him space to think.

They could heat noise downstairs. But it was somehow far away. Ezera sighed, closing his eyes. Then he faced Ilya composedly.

"Now what was it about wanting to die?"

Ilya didn't lose his temper again. He drily pointed at Ezera's second wrist, from which dangled the cursed amulet.

"This artifact is killing you. You shouldn't wear it."

"I see. Why do you think so?"

He gave the teacher a flat look.

"It is oozing with dark matter. It is entering your organism."

Oh. That was an answer. A really good answer actually. Which meant some people could see energies. And that the amulet did indeed work even without skin contact.

And it also told him that Count Ilya wasn't conspirating with Hortensius against him. Contrary to Narcis.

"Now take it off. I'll destroy it," Ilya said, revealing his sword under his red and silver coat.

Ezera didn't understand how people could believe this man was weak. Maybe they were thinking about the wrong person.

Unless...

"I can't," Ezera replied.

Ilya's gaze flared up again.

"What." It was said so flatly it could be mistaken for a statement.

"I can't," he repeated unphased.

"Why."

Ezera smirky wrily. He held out his wrist, like an ironic trophy.

"This," he showed the bracelet, "is a gift. From the Church, in the name of the Crown."

The corners of Ilya's eyes strained as he reconsidered the issue, his teeth gritting against each other. Finally, he was seeing reason.

Still, Ezera was happy to find himself an ally in Ilya...

"Then you have to disappear."

...Wait, what?!

Ilya started dragging him again, but this time Ezera resisted.

"Wait! What do you think you're doing?"

"The Luversten Crown has made their intentions clear," Ilya gritted out, not looking back at Ezera. "If you don't get out of the country, you'll get killed one way or another."

"And you're going to get me out? Don't count on it!"

"Why are you so stubborn?!"

"And who even are you?!"

They both stopped, tense, like two wolves looking for weaknesses.

The world caught back with them.

"Look," Ezera said impatiently. "Someone's waiting for me. See the first floor, far end, window on the North wall. Get it? If you want to talk, meet me there tonight."

With that, Ezera slipped away from Ilya's grip and ran back down. He left a few coins on the counter next to his drink, which he downed with a sign to the innkeeper, then left to meet with Narcis.

"Sorry I was long, he said, appearing natural."

"It is alright. Let us go home?"

"Of course."

Ezera only spared one glance toward the inn as they went.

Once he was back inside the castle. He idly chatted with the servants or with Dereck, hoping to learn more.

About who? Of course, about the man who knew himslef powerful enough to evacuate people from the lands, even though his own were supposed to have burned.

"Oh, I'm sure the youngest Ilya never touched a sword in his life. He was a quiet little thing, didn't appreciate human contact. Not even his siblings saw him often."

"That boy? I remember the last time I saw him, he was just four years old, and already with a spell in his mouth, a book on arrays in his hands. He changed so much, poor thing, the death of his family must have traumatized him."

"It's sad for his family that he never took part in politics," Dereck told him at some point. "If he had had his father's network, his future would be brighter. As it is, the Church is asserting power over the lands at the frontier. They're forbidding any contact with the outside world, requisitioning the territories through emergency measures. I don't think he'll get his inheritage back."

"Hum, what I think about Count Saera Ilya? Well... He's not what I expected. We didn't see that one often on the past, but the father and most of his siblings had chestnut hair and pale green eyes. He probably took from the mother. Did you know the late Count Ilya had had two wives?"

"I thought he'd be paler."

"He's scarier than I expected!"

"That guy is always glaring, lurking around. It's creepy."

...

"Nothing survived that attack, I swear! All the treatises they had written, all the inherited spears, the family heirlooms... And not even the skin of a body. They must've been eaten."

"We thought he was dead for two weeks."

...

By the time Ezera had tucked Ming to bed at the end of the day, he had almost reached his conclusion.

Ming was sound asleep when Ezera heard something, from the side of the window which he had left open. A small hissing sound, hint of someone treading in slowly.

Ezera didn't bother to stand up. He remained kneeling between the bed and the small table on which he made his researches. The cursed amulet was put away for now, far away from him and the other amulet.

Ezera let his hand fall from Ming's hair. Instead, he grabbed the stolen amulet slowly. Then, he looked up at Ilya, standing in the chambers, the window still airing at the night behind him. His sword was in sight. His eyes glowed in the moonlight.

"Do you know what this is for?" He asked somberly.

Ilya examined the object briefly. He seemed to realize this one wasn't cursed, but otherwise he didn't understand its function. He shook his head.

"It is the prototype of a scrying device. It is very ancient. Surely it must be mentioned in the volumes you used to read as a child."

But Ilya's gaze remained foreign, confrontee with the relic. Ezera put it back against the wood, delicately as not to wake his student. He stared back, warily. Seemingly relaxed, yet ready to bounce.

"Before we go further, Count Ilya, tell me. Your name isn't Saera Ilya, is it?"

Ilya's gaze case was cold. Ezera's eyes narrowed.

"I ask you again. Who exactly are you?"