An Ocean of Lies (AFOS II)

Chapter 5: Laurentius

Laurentius snuck into his room in the College of Magi, trying not to wake the guard up. After the market "incident", they weren't allowed out in the city after sundown and had to be in their rooms by ten, tucked in and sleeping, like the good little mages they were. The guardswoman slept like a rock, her snoring would most certainly end up tearing down the college's heavy stone walls someday. He closed his door, enchanted it to seal the light of his firedust lamp in, then sat on his desk. There was no way he could sleep after that. His stomach hurt, his lips trembled: maybe he should've gone with them, what was he thinking? They would get themselves killed out there without his cunning wits and magical prowess. He could've sworn Jo pleaded with him to stay with her eyes, but the girl was too proud to admit it. Wyn was strong enough to deal with Jo's grandmother, right? She wouldn't miss him— much.

He took out a piece of parchment paper, a fountain pen, and some ink. He needed to stay. Jo and Alaric were just a piece of the puzzle, and he was planning to put it all together. He couldn't do it out there in the middle of the Fog Ocean, with all that moving, vomiting and sweaty pirates bellowing their fine chants. What did Jo's grandmother gain from all that? Why did she push them out there? He was missing something. The forest, the tree, that dreadful Koldo man, Gerard, the King, Volstad: everything was connected. He knew it: it was all there. But he couldn't see the branches connecting it all, they were hidden by debris, by leaves, by pesky little singing birds deviating his attention. He crossed all the names, crushed the paper and set it on fire in his palm. He grunted, stood up and threw himself on the bed. He didn't even have the energy to keep his glamor spell up, his reptilian eyes stared right back at him from the window in the ceiling. The look Jo had given him when he showed her... it still hurt. They didn't even have the time to discuss it. Alaric was cynical about it, he understood how magic worked, he wasn't as stupid as he seemed after all, but Jo? She feared it, he could always see behind her mask of pragmatism. There was wariness in her eyes every time he pulled out a spell. She was afraid out of her wits of her newfound healing ability: her consistent failure to even mention it was proof enough. He didn't want to press her, but he knew there was something else there, something important he needed to figure out: curiosity was killing him. Had it been the tree or her coming back from the dead? Way too many things had happened that day, he was exhausted and exhilarated, his body threatened to explode in little bits. Maybe a sleeping-draught would help. Yes, maybe with some extra relaxing herbs. Maybe he could just skip the potion altogether, too much hassle. He could just smoke it, it wasn't like the guard would mind, her snoring told him she was still failing at guarding anything. Was it a prerequisite to be a guard? Being lazy? He fumbled with the leaves and his pipe, maybe he could add a bit of lemongrass to the mix? He despised the smell of the herbs.

One puff, two, he could feel his muscles relaxing, a cracking noise in his skull, between his shoulder blades. He had an early meeting with the headmistress, didn't he? Better make it quick. He inhaled the whole thing in one big puff, then held it as long as he could. His bed was so soft, had it always been that soft?

Someone banged on Laurentius' door. His mind was still a little fuzzy, but at least his body felt well-rested. He looked at his time-teller. Huh. Curious. He wasn't late for his meeting, of course he wasn't. His body always knew when to open his eyes: it was too early, still. It was dark outside, no sign of birds or vendors in the market. The banging continued. He checked his eyes on the mirror over his desk, he couldn't go out looking like that, creators forbid. People didn't bang angrily on your door at five in the morning to deliver flowers to you. If he was going to be dragged to do something unpleasant, at least he wanted to look the opposite of that.

"I'm coming," he said. He tried to sound relaxed, uninterested, but his heart told a different story. A little eyeliner under the eyes. No amount of kohl would hide the puffiness, he took it as a challenge. Maybe a dab of pomade on his hair, to hide the frizz. The banging intensified. He rolled his eyes as he powdered his nose. What would it be, this time? More secret errands for the Onturians, maybe. There was no way they— no. They wouldn't just bang on his door if they knew he had something to do with Alaric's escape. And the explosion. And the deaths. And the monsters. Creators. What had he gotten himself into? He took a deep breath, then opened the door, making sure to smile as charmingly as possible.

"You're in one piece, thank the Creators," Markolf was all over him, checking his face, his hands. "And you look fine, you look good," Laurentius closed the door, then straightened his clothes.

What was he even doing there? Had the guard seen him? Maybe one of the other mages. Ugh. He had told him, countless times, to never, under any circumstance, go up to his room. Yet there he was, looking at him like a worried mother hen with perfect hair and rosy lips. Sickly sweet. He needed to break up with the man, before he got too attached.

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?" the mage put his hair up in a bun.

"Was it you? Did you blow up the cells? Unleashed monsters into the city?" Uh, oh. Of course he figured out, he wasn't stupid. Like Alaric yelled at him once: they didn't make stupid Onturians. He looked mad. He looked cute when he was mad. Laurentius shrugged, then sat on his desk, pretending to ignore him.

"You didn't need to know, Markolf," he said. He needed a bath. Laurentius could still taste the sewers on his own lips, with a hint of sea salt. There would be no kissing. "And I'd appreciate it if you lowered your voice, you'll get me expelled," he said, trying to keep his act straight. He had to break up with him— eventually. Yes.

"I'll get you— by Ontur's pants," the knight scoffed. "You have no idea how lucky you got. You didn't know for sure I was going to be there that afternoon, did you? And that seal, where did you get it? Clever, but someone else might've asked questions. When they came asking, I said it was some other mage I didn't recognize. I had a feeling you had something to do it with."

"Good boy, brilliant and handsome: the whole bundle. And well. Thank you," Laurentius yawned. He was good at faking yawns, he had elevated the action to an art. Markolf's face went red, he clenched his fists. Laurentius coughed.

"You could've told me something," he said. "I had no idea if I'd find you here at all, part of me expected you to have gone away to the north, maybe. Without saying goodbye," he wrinkled his nose. Was he containing his tears? That man. Were all Onturian knights such softies? He felt something in his throat, like a tingle, going all the way across his chest.

"I couldn't say anything, Markolf. Like I said, it's not my secret to tell, you see?"

"And you're still keeping it. That, I can see— clearly— Laurentius," the look Markolf gave him punched him right in the guts. "The recruit you broke out, Alaric. Does he mean something to you? He was missing from his cell." was that what it was? Was he jealous of Alaric, of all people? He twisted his lips.

"He's a very dear friend, let's leave it at that. And he's a dearest friend's boyfriend, if you must know. The girl with the scar? Remember? Jocasta?"

"Right, right," Markolf sighed. "I'm not sure if you'd like to know, or even care at this point, but the other recruits are fine. A bit shook up, but mostly fine. I can't say the same for the knights who came after you: some of them were my friends. All of them were family," he pursed his lips.

"I'm truly sorry, Markolf. Someday you'll understand. It needed to be done," Laurentius' mask of tranquility almost fell.

"Sorry. I'm not— I know you had a very good reason, you must have. It's just that, I don't know. There's so much you don't tell me, and if something were to happen to you..." he touched Laurentius' face, softly.

"You'll just have to trust me," Laurentius took his hand, pushed it away with care. "And thank you, I know you risked your position to help us, and blindly on top of that. I'll be forever grateful," he stood up and kissed him softly on the lips. Markolf wasn't expecting it, he threw him off guard. It never failed. Sewer lips and all, he still got it. "Now, I think you should go. I have a meeting with the headmistress and I look like I crawled into a sewer," he joked. Markolf leaned in for another kiss, but Laurentius turned his back on him. Too much of a good thing, right? Plus, he needed to cut it off. Soon.

Markolf squeezed his arm, then left. Laurentius shook his encounter from his head: he didn't need the distraction. He needed to get ready for his meeting.