The leaves were falling from the hornbeam once again, and they danced in the air. Children chased them around, laughing happily, their joy spreading through the school. The classroom stood not far from it, and Roy was leaning against the rickety wall, staring at the incomplete pentagram on his sleeve, his frowning face standing out like a sore thumb.
Vivien came up to him. “I wasn’t feeling too great yesterday, so I didn’t ask you to stay after school. Why don’t I help you with your revision after school today?”
Roy nodded, but he still looked tense, and he didn’t listen closely to what she’d just said.
“Oh, right. Miss Cardell wants you to see her in her office,” Vivien said.
***
“How do you feel about the school? Getting along with the other children? What about the classroom? Anything that needs to be improved?” Cardell put her hands on the table and peered at Roy, who was sitting across from her. Her eyes were filled with encouragement, but her laugh lines made it look like she was interrogating him.
“I think everything’s good,” he answered honestly. “Especially Miss Vivien. She’s been putting in a lot of effort. I wouldn’t be improving as fast if not for her. Oh yes, Miss Cardell. I have one question.” Roy paused. “Does Miss Vivien have a brother?”
Cardell shook her head. “No. She only has a father who’s a drunkard, and a mother who’s mentally ill. They depend on her for money, and because of that, she never got married.”
That only added to Roy’s questions. That wasn’t what Vivien had told him yesterday. “I thought she had a brother. That would explain why she takes great care of me. Maybe she thinks of me as her brother.”
Cardell shook her head seriously. “Roy, Vivien has been helping me with the school for a decade. I see her as my own daughter, and I know her very well. She has no siblings, and she cares about every student. Vivien’s paying more attention to you because you’re a new student.”
Roy didn’t ask any more, as if accepting the explanation. Cardell patted his head and smiled. Some of the boys in the school liked the young, beautiful Vivien. They would fantasize about her giving them special treatment, and she thought Roy was one of them.
“Roy, you have potential. You completed two months worth of syllabus in two weeks. That’s better than everyone else. Maybe you’ll graduate as valedictorian in a few years. I’ll draw your portrait then and hang it here. As a way of immortalizing you and encouraging the future children to be just like you.”
Cardell opened her desk’s drawer and took out a few framed portraits for Roy to see. They were lifelike oil paintings that depicted young boys and girls. Roy looked at the portraits, and he froze at the sight of one of them.
“Helheim, graduated on the twentieth of December, year 1259.”
The portrait was of a boy in his teenage years. He had black hair and freckles on his nose. The boy would’ve looked ordinary and forgettable enough in a crowd, if not for the ugly scar under his right eye. Roy was sure he’d seen the boy before, but he couldn’t remember from where. “Where do the valedictorians work?”
Cardell had a proud look on her face after Roy asked her that. “I call the shots for a few things in Aedirn. They’re talented, but they need training, so I recommend them to other cities like Lyria, Rivia, Upper Posada, Lower Posada, and even Vengerberg. Most of them work in the literary world. Some become historians, some scribes, some librarians.”
Roy pretended to have a look of longing on his face, but he thought Cardell was lying. This school isn’t as simple as it seems. They have another motive.
***
Vivien was explaining some complex words to Roy after school when an unkempt, pudgy, middle-aged man barged into the classroom. He looked like a human-sized meatball that was wearing a dark, brown shirt drenched in liquor and scraps of food. His hair was disheveled and oily, evident he hadn’t washed it in a while. He reeked of mold and looked like a beggar.
He hobbled over to them and looked at Roy suspiciously before turning to Vivien and extending his hand. “Why didn’t you come home last night, Vivien? Give me money,” he demanded matter-of-factly. “I’m out of booze.”
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Vivien stood in front of Roy, pulling her behind him, her gentle look replaced with one of anger. “I have no money for you.”
“You damned girl. You spent it all? You know you should leave some for me.” A frown creased the man’s forehead. He bared his yellow teeth and spat on the ground. “Bring the money back tomorrow, or else,” he threatened before leaving, muttering something under his breath.
“Is that your father?” Roy asked carefully. He noticed Vivien wasn’t looking too happy.
“Yes. He’s my father, Bob,” Vivien answered quietly. “Scary, isn’t he?”
“W-well…” Roy didn’t think it was appropriate for him to criticize someone else’s parents. “Maybe he’s just acting that way because he’s drunk.”
“Don’t worry. You can say what you want about him. That man hasn’t been sober his entire life, and he doesn’t care about his family. The first thing he does when he wakes up is drink, and the only time he’ll sleep is when he’s drunk.” Vivien seemed unperturbed by her father’s actions. She was numb to them at this point. Vivien sounded resigned and mocking. Anyone with a father like that is just unlucky. “Bob has never done his job as a father. He doesn’t even care about his missing son.”
His son? Vivien’s brother? The one Cardell said was nonexistent? Roy looked at her weirdly. “What’s going on, Vivien? Can you tell me about it?” Since he needed to persuade her, Roy added, “I’ve been following a witcher around for a while. To be precise, my teacher is a witcher from the Viper School. He’s taught me ways to handle weird and bizarre happenings. Maybe I can help you.”
“Is that true?” She arched an eyebrow, doubtful of what Roy had just said. “From what I’ve seen, the shape and color of your eyes are different from those witchers.”
“Because I’m still a disciple, and I haven’t passed the Trial of the Grasses yet, so I’m no stronger than an ordinary human.” Roy then talked about his journey with Letho.
Vivien kept quiet for a while. “Alright then, Roy. I trust you, though I don’t understand why a witcher’s disciple is working at an herb booth in the marketplace. Since you’re willing to hear me out, and you have experience, I can tell you what happened. At least you won’t think me mad.” She took a deep breath. “It’s incredible though. I can’t even be sure about what my brother looks like, or how old he is, or where he is right now.” She laughed to herself, and she looked conflicted. Even she herself thought it was ludicrous.
“Everyone thought I’d gone insane when I first told them about my brother. Nobody had ever seen him. Not Miss Cardel, and none of my cute students either. Nobody remembers I have a brother. I tried to prove to that drunkard that he had a son by showing him boy clothes that were lying around, but he said I had a bastard son instead. My mother doesn’t know what I’m talking about. It was then I realized that everyone would’ve thought me possessed by a demon if I’d kept that up. They would’ve burned me at the stake. Since then, I kept it a secret and led my life normally. It’s been two years since then.” Vivien went quiet again.
Her explanation added to Roy’s questions. “That’s weird, Vivien. If nobody remembers him, then how are you so sure you have a brother?”
“Because I have evidence. I told you there were clothes that belonged to a boy in my home. I would show them to you, but that drunkard burned them all.” Regret flashed in her eyes, then she resolved herself. Vivien was sure she wasn’t imagining things. “Also, since I started working with Miss Cardell, I made a habit of recording my life in my journal every two weeks or once a month. It’s to jot down everything that left an impression on me, whether it be at home, the school, or the streets. It’s been ten years.” She stopped for a moment. “I would read my journal once in a while. I’ve set a high bar for myself. My dream is to become someone respected and well-beloved like Miss Cardell one day, so I would correct my inappropriate actions after reading my journal.”
“You’ve done it though, Vivien. Everyone in the school likes you, and even their parents do too,” Roy answered earnestly. He thought Vivien was pushing herself too much.
“No, I still have a long way to go.” She shook her head and spaced out at the sky. “When I went through my journal two years ago, I found some strange records.” She stopped, but then said solemnly, “Aside from me, that drunkard, and my poor mother, there was another person in my house.”
Roy felt goosebumps on his skin, for Vivien’s story had taken an eerie turn. She took off her necklace, pressing down on it to open it. She took out a wrinkled piece of paper and laid it out. It was the size of a palm, and on it was a crude drawing of two people. One of them was taller than the other, and they were holding hands. On the left was a tall lady, and on her right stood a boy with red cheeks. They were beaming, and the two looked close; they were obviously siblings.
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“Then I found a bunch of clothes for boys in my home. The clothes are far smaller than the drunkard could handle, and there’s also this weird drawing in my necklace. This is why I’m sure I have a brother. But for some unknown reason, I can’t remember him.” Vivien looked confused and frustrated, and she only continued after a while. “That feeling was strongest when I helped you out in the slums. I know you and him must be really alike. Even though I don’t know what he looks like, I have a feeling he exists.”
Oh, that explains why she’s so nice to me even though it was our first time meeting each other. But Roy still thought something was off. He decided to go along with her story to find out what was happening. “Pardon me, Vivien, but can I see that part of the journal?”
“Of course. Ask me if you come across words you don’t know. I can explain them.” Vivien looked tense, and she whispered carefully, “But don’t tell anyone about this before we have any definite evidence. This is for your own good, understood?”