TWACK! Syron grimaced when the wooden rod cracked against his shoulder. Afterwards waving the rod in front of his face, Renee took advantage of his briefly closed eyes and hit him again on the forehead. Eyes crossed, he fell backwards onto his rear and moaned while holding his head.

“Frack that smarts!” Syron yelled out crossly while vigorously rubbing his shoulder in addition to holding the growing lump on his face. Marigold made a face like the was refusing to sneeze before turning away from her Young Master’s physical combat training.

“Young Master. I have told you repeatedly. Stop closing your eyes while fighting. You need to maintain your senses at all times while engaged in martial conflict, including sight. I do not know what fiction novel you read about ‘seeing’ using sound vibrations or whatever, but using only your ears and so called ‘sensitivity’ will get you worse than just a lump on your head. Yes, using aptitudes you do not have, it is possible to perceive everything around you without actually looking, but I repeat… you do not have them. Very few people do. Those people make excellent fighters against others without ways to fight back properly. It means little compared to superior strength and agility, unfortunately, and compared to aptitudes like Knight Kasumi’s? Don’t make me laugh. Their powers would be worth nothing. So start focusing on what actually matters instead of these weird fantasies about fighting blindfolded.” Renee lectured a frowning Syron. He didn’t interrupt, but he did tear up slightly while feeling his forehead.

“Yeah… I wasn’t trying to open my third eye or some nonsense like that. I flinched because I’m not used to things swinging in front of my eyes like that. Honestly, I think you’ve been reading too many of my character notes and assuming I actually believe that crap. It’s a story that makes characters seem a little more than just a series of numbers holding a big number to bash into other numbers. For numbers. The bigger the better.” Syron responded, derailing by the end into a ramble that Renee was both delighted and disgusted to admit she mostly understood. Perhaps the day would come when she would actually communicate with the Young Master in a language they both spoke? She smiled while watching him poke the bump on his head and wincing.

“Well… that is a relief. While we are resting, Young Master… have you put any more thought into your thirteenth birthday celebration? I am certain half the capital would show up if you invited…” Renee trailed off as a maid burst into the courtyard with a hurried and flustered expression.

“Young Master! Several Prefects have entered the grounds and are demanding to speak with you!” The maid explained, clearly afraid though Syron couldn’t determine why.

“Cool cool cool… do you brew a decent tea?” He asked her seriously. She blinked a few times like she couldn’t parse his statement.

“I… umm… of course Young Master. Like all maids, I was trained to brew a pot a tea?” The maid seemed confused, but at least she wasn’t panicked anymore. Kasumi smirked at how quickly her Young Master could calm the hysterical maid.

He truly does never cease to amaze… Kasumi thought while making a swooning maiden’s sigh.

“Right… but are you exceptional at it?” Syron asked again, clearly knowing that maids know how to brew a cuppa.

“I believe so, yes!”

“Wonderful. Go get some ready to serve to the Prefects. Marigold, could you make sure that the table… yes, you’re already doing it. Kasumi, could you go lead our guests to me here, please? Keep them waiting no more than a couple of minutes, as our maid friend here will need a few minutes to get their beverages prepared.” Syron announced to a now bustling courtyard. Renee just stood there, waiting for her own instructions. He laughed, seeing her willingness.

“You get the best job! You get to continue to kick the crap out of me.” Syron sent that message to Renee as a gentle whisper next to her ear. He then stood and got into a stance ready to take on attacks from the Knight way stronger, faster, and experienced than him.

TWACK! “Youch!” Syron cried out when the Prefects entered the courtyard. Renee had delivered a particularly brutal strike to Syron’s shin, causing him to lose balance and nearly fall over. Renee examined the rod for a moment before tossing it into a pile made up of other cracked or broken rods before selecting another from a nearby stand.

“Ugh… again!” Syron started to weave in and out of Renee’s clearly broadcast strikes, occasionally using his palms to push her hands or arms away to prevent her from hitting him again. His movements were clumsy and amateurish. The Prefects collectively winced when he missed an easy duck and Renee broke a rod over the side of his head, the top half of the wood flying across the courtyard to land at their feet. Syron wobbled a bit but managed to stay standing before raising his hand in a placating motion.

“Alright… that’s… yeah… that’s enough now. That’s… maybe a concussion. Merlin’s baggiest Y-fronts… frick that one hurt!” Syron complained while wiping his face with a towel a nearby maid presented. It came away with a bit of blood and Renee made an apologetic frown.

“So… Officers? Guardsmen? Prefects? Honestly, I’m not thinking clearly at the moment and I’m not sure what to call you. Who are you, and how can I help you?” Syron asked the three rather tense men standing a short distance away. They eyed the pile of broken rods that Renee was clearing and just… imagined.

“Lord Forrester, I am Captain Blake of the Fifth Prefect’s Division. I am here because I am currently investigating the disappearance of one of your classmates by the name of Casey. I have been told that you had a squabble with him the night before he was determined to be missing. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions pertaining to this?” The Prefect’s voice was stern, but not overbearing. Syron gave the Captain a few marks up in his opinion of him.

“Bummer… I guess I was wrong then. Alright, of course you can ask me whatever you like. I’m like an open book that might babble from brain damage on occasion. Please have a seat. My maid should be back shortly with some tea for you.” Syron asked politely, gesturing at a nearby stone table that Marigold had just cleared before disappearing.

“We would not wish to inconvenience you to such a degree Lord Forrester. We simply wish to ask our questions and bother you no further.” The Captain apologized. Syron smiled.

“I insist.” Syron pointed at the three chairs seated side by side opposite Syron’s own chair. Strangely, since the table was small and circular, the Prefects were in a straight line and had half of the table compared to Syron’s own half. With a sigh, the Captain sat down and gestured to his two subordinates to do the same. A minute later they were presented with tea and a plate full of braided bread sticks.

“Help yourself!” Syron’s smile faltered slightly at the sight of the small mound of bread. Their bread party might have successfully killed off the excess supply of the time, it did nothing for the second, albeit smaller shipment the Forrester mansion received the next day. Renee offered to return it with a stern thanks but no thanks. Kasumi offered to burn the bakery down.

“Alright… Lord Forrester. Your classmate, Casey, was last seen having an altercation with you two nights ago at the tavern known as the Kanouki Rous. Witnesses say that at the time, you were heavily intoxicated and that he had some rather… aggressive things to say about your family. Does this sound correct?”

“Based on what I was told the yesterday by Brekt Alpers, as well as my own Knights and maid, yes. Sounds correct.”

“Are you claiming that you do not remember such a thing happening?”

“I ordered a juice, since I think I’m a little too young to drink. Be it a mix up in the kitchen or whatever, I seem to have indeed become black out plastered. As for interacting with my so called ‘classmate’? I am afraid I don’t even recognize his name. I freely admit to being woefully behind in my studies, you see, so I tend to focus much harder on the teacher than anything else around me.”

“So not only do you not remember the night in question, you are saying you don’t even know the missing child?”

“Maybe if I saw his face I’d be like ‘oh him!?’, but beyond that, no, not really. After spending a year in a coma and waking up with amnesia, I too am getting tired of hearing the phrase ‘I do not remember’, even if it is in my own voice.”

At this time, Syron picked up his tea saucer and went to drink it before Kasumi took it from him and took a sip first. Syron just sighed, poured himself another cup, and made a face at Kasumi like ‘you gonna taste test this one too?’ He took his own sip, made a show of ‘tasting’ the tea, then gave the nearby maid a smile and a thumbs up.

“Tastes like tea!” She wasn’t quite sure if that was a compliment, but she chose to take it as such.

“Anyway… I don’t really care if this kid said something about my family. I apparently wasn’t exactly a filial son before my coma, and my family won’t collapse just because somebody wishes us harm for some reason. In fact, I firmly request they don’t try… my mother is brutal.”

“A trait that some witnesses claim you possess? Though I have never heard any rumors about The Warden being anything but a caring and power woman of character, I have heard much the opposite about you, Lord Forrester. It seems not a week into your stay in Pecunia you ruthlessly and publicly castrated two guards of the Quoro House next to the Academy.”

“Hah… well, I hate to be that guy… but technically speaking I didn’t castrate them. I stabbed one in the genitals and smashed the other’s with my foot. I’m pretty sure castration is only removing the gonads.”

“What you did could also be described as castration, as a general emasculation through the removal of the function of the… the terminology is hardly important.” The Captain started to correct Syron, but realized shortly afterwards that when you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. If you argue with an idiot, you become one too.

“It’s kind of important! I was acting like a know-it-all douche bag, you know? But fine! I’ll let it go since you’re gracious enough to pretend like I didn’t just ‘actually’ you and got my correction wrong. But moving on… I’m not sure what you know about those two gents I fought with before, but they were attempting to kidnap and have their way with a young girl. After assessing her safety, I punished them in an unusual, but pretty on-point, way considering their attempted crime. She was quite thankful, funny enough. Her and her sister run the bakery that made those. I’m not allowed to utter the b-word though, and I request you don’t as well.” Syron gestured at the untouched braided breadsticks. The Prefects just stared at him.

“I understand what you are saying in that regard, Lord Forrester. However, the day after their altercation with you, they were reported missing. More importantly, they vanished without a trace of evidence, much like the young child Casey. It is due to that connection and reason that I’m here asking these questions.” Captain Blake said, his tone still authoritative but not condescending.

“Well, I hope Casey pops back up soon, but I’m afraid I know nothing about his disappearance. As for those two guards disappearing… good riddance to bad rubbish. I know nothing about their disappearances as well, though I don’t exactly hate the idea that people like that are off the streets. Assuming they disappeared by nefarious means and they aren’t just being hidden by the Quoros to avoid a scandal, of course.” Hearing that Syron suspected the Quoro House came as no surprise to the Prefects, though they were a little shocked at the way he just said it outright.

“You are not quite what I expected, Lord Forrester.”

“You are exactly what I expected, Captain Blake. At least, once I heard you were here to question me, anyway.”

“What do you mean, exactly?”

“Based on the blatant crime I stopped those two guards from committing and the way that no one moved to help, including prefects, I imagine that going after nobles is a bad idea. That means that you, oh Captain my Captain, have got some serious steel cajones in your drawls. While I would never go after someone just for doing their job, other nobles with less authority than I have… would. Heck yeah they would. They’d do it three times over just because they enjoy it. There would be little you could do to stop it, I’m guessing… so good job!” Stunned, the Prefects stared at Syron critically. The steady drip of blood coming from his various wounds unnerved them.

“By the way, I’m turning thirteen next week. Wanna come to my party?”