We run into two teachers near the campus grounds as we're returning from the caravan. Or rather, they run into us. They are in an awful lot of hurry, which makes the fact that they stop to talk with us even more surprising.
"You three are coming from the town, correct? You were at the caravan?" professor Eclaise asks, without as much as a hello. We stop dead on our tracks, surprised.
"Yes, sir," I say, cautiously. "Has something happened?"
"There has been... an incident," says professor Atwell, the physiology professor, tucking her brown hair back behind her ear. "One of the students collapsed. She had been given strawberries at the fair... We have reasons to believe they had been poisoned."
My eyes widen, the grip of my fingers on the brim of the cup tightening. Strawberries... poisoned? I knew something had been off.
"So, if you noticed anything weird, or maybe saw the man who gave them to her...." Eclaise suggests.
We glance at each other, Gil worried and Alica confused. Alica shakes her head.
"No, I don't think we saw anyone selling strawberries..." she says. Gil and I nod. "It's a bit early for them anyway, though, isn't it?"
"Hmmm, well, thank you for your time," Eclaise says and they move to continue.
"Wait," I say, and they stop. "Who... who was the victim?"
The professors trade a look.
"Her name was Tauria Chand," professor Atwell says quietly. "Her friend, Knute Ferrel, carried her all the way to the hospital wing, the brave lad." She shakes her head and sighs, and we watch them head down the road towards town. My head is throbbing, empty, the rare silence in my mind a welcome guest if it weren't so goddamn painful. I can't believe... Why her? Or perhaps... why him.
"Tauria..." Gil says from next to me, though it feels like miles away. "Wasn't that..!"
I turn abruptly, heading inside the school building, my surprised friends not far behind, shouting my name, but I don't stop. I need to find out who did this, I need to find out what was in the berries, I need to-!
Two hands fall on my back as I try, unsuccessfully, to open the dorm room door. My hands are shaking, I notice. Gil places his hand on mine to steady it and presses the door handle, the heavy door creaking open. I am gently pushed inside by two hands and the door is closed behind us. I try to say something, but there is a lump in my throat. When had the tears started to fall? Why? I don't -
Alica walks me to the bed and sits me down while Gil brings me a cup of water. I give him a smile and take a sip. We sit quietly for a while.
"You knew her," Alica says, not really a question. I nod and clear my throat.
"Yes," I croak out and then clear my throat again. "I mean, barely, I just met her today, but she was so nice and interesting and young. And she was- is, she is, the boy's best friend and if she-"
I stop. No, no I can't think that. She will be fine and I will make my damnest to make sure of it. What I can do isn't much, but I am damn good at it and I will find out what was in those strawberries if it's the last thing I'll do.
"I need to get to work," I say, swiping the wetness off my cheeks with my sleeve and standing up. "Gil, take out my alchemy supplies, while I run to the library. We're gonna figure out a cure."
~x~
I slam the alchemy book closed and groan. I have a great urge to throw all my equipment and the books on the floor but I restrain myself. Gil looks up from his bed.
The teachers who went out to town came back empty handed. Apparently several members of the caravan had already packed up and left, among them the mysterious strawberry salesman. I had talked to them afterwards, asking them to tell me everything the boy had said about the man. They seemed to trust I'd try to help because they told me everything they knew.
A fifth termer nephew... In my mind I had gone through all the fifth termers (all 32 of them) but hadn't come up with a viable option for someone who would have a caravanner family. Greetings from my nephew, he had said... That did imply that the nephew is a part of this, but how significant? Or was that just a way to throw us off his track, make us concentrate on a nonexistent nephew while he gets away with attempted murder? How much can we trust his word? Or was the nephew the true mastermind behind the crime, taking advantage of his uncle by making him give strawberries to Tauria without drawing suspicion to himself? If that is the case, wouldn't he have told his uncle to not mention him?
Not to mention that the boy thought that the salesman had recognized him... So had this been about Knute after all? Why give the berries to Tauria if she wasn't the target? Had she been an innocent bystander, caught in the crossfire? What possible reason would the salesman have for poisoning the boy, though? I still didn't know what in him made me feel the way I did, but I had thought it was just my mind over thinking, just like always... Was there actually something different about him? Or could it be that it wasn't personal at all, but rather about the school? All the weird incidents over the years, the only thing in common was the location: the academia. According to the boy they had been asked if they were from the academia, perhaps they were chosen simply for being students...
Indeed, it was likely the boy had been wearing his school uniform to the town, the academia students got discounts from papers and inks and such, so perhaps...
But no, I can't draw any conclusions yet, I need more data...
The strawberry mush hasn't been too helpful either. It's been two days and I still can't find traces of any kind of poisons in it. None! Something has been done to them, I'm sure of it, but I cannot find any known poisons in them! And if it's not poison, what could it be? It is slowly making me crazy. Gil and Alica both tried to help at first, but they soon gave up trying to stay out of the way. Come to think of it, I haven't even seen Alica since Saturday night... The fortune flashes through my mind; open heart.
There's a hand on my shoulder and I jump slightly in my chair. Gil is standing behind me, concern colored all across his face. I laugh nervously, turning the chair to face him.
"Oz, I'm worried," he says and I duck my gaze. "I understand that figuring this out is important to you, but you've been working nonstop for almost two days. You've been barely sleeping, you payed no attention in class today and I've been trying to get your attention for ten minutes now and you haven't responded."
"Oh, shit, I'm sorry," I say, surprised. I was really caught up, wasn't I... "It's just... There is so much going on right now, and..."
"I know," he says, tenderly, kneeling in front of me, taking the hands resting on my lap into his. "But just wallowing in it isn't gonna change anything... It's late, you should really take a break... just... let it wait until tomorrow." There's a compassionate smile on his face and I feel terrible.
"You're right, of course, you're right," I say and sigh. "I'm sorry."
Gil cups my face, his smile relived if a bit tired, and he pulls me up from the chair. My mind is slow now, the fatigue of the past few days finally having caught up to me as I let go of the obsession and Gil guides me patiently to the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth and then back to the main room and the soft, inviting beds in the back. He puts out the main light and comes over, his beautiful face filled with fondness as he sits on the side of the bed. I trace the side of his face with my finger, and he smiles brighter, bright enough to light up the whole room. My thumb brushes across his bottom lip and he kisses it, drawing in closer until he's sitting on top of me. I would stay here forever if I could, looking up at his sweet smile and twinkling blue eyes.
He leans over and kisses my forehead, my eyelids, my nose - which makes me laugh a little - and finally my lips. He is gentle, oh so gentle, like he's afraid I'll break under his hands and lips. I wouldn't, obviously, but he knows it and I say nothing. Sometimes gentle is exactly what I need. And Gil always knows what I need.
We fall into a slow rhythm, hands traveling over bodies, mapping the already familiar skin underneath. Gil nips at my ear and my breath hitches. He kisses me, over and over again, on my mouth, my neck, my chest, everywhere he can reach and I close my eyes, leaning back against the headboard. I card my fingers through his hair and whisper sweet nothings into the dark room and everything is as it should be, everything is perfect, everything is magical.
Magical...
I wake up the following morning, Gil's arm thrown haphazardly across my waist and his head resting on my shoulder, with only one thought in my mind:
What if it's magic?
__________________________________________________________________
That, uh. Got out of hand. I swear, I hadn't planned for this to happen at all, it just... happened, but to my defense I've been hinting at it since part 4. I had some... concerns when I noticed where it was going, but decided that I don't care. And with the final realization it does actually contribute to the story... kinda...
Besides, it's not very explicit or graphic, so it's ok, right?
Your topic is........... Yellow. I'm going to bed, bye.
Pie out.
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