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Duelcrest Academy
19. Unsaid words

19. Unsaid words

«I hope you didn't come here just for a refresher on the rules,» I repeated in a deep voice, mocking the old professor.

«What's the point of your damn rules if you don't do anything to enforce them!»

In a fit of rage, I kicked a table. I regretted it immediately and started hopping around, holding my foot. I could see that Sophia was trying her best to suppress a laugh.

After our futile visit to the headmaster, she and I had moved to the common room. It was deserted, our classmates were still in class. We were both going to be penalized but, after all, 10 points weren't that big of a deal.

Sophia slumped into an armchair, now laughing at loud, not being able to hold back anymore. I guess she needed to relieve tension a bit, as we just found out an unknown killer was lurking in the Academy.

"Now that I think about it, I had never heard her laugh like this before."

Usually I could feel a tinge of sarcasm but not this time. Her laugh was kinda... cute?

That girly tone sure clashed with her standoffish nature.

Once she had regained her composure, Sophia commented:

«I don't think he cares much whether we obey the rules or not. It's all a facade. In fact, he probably finds it impressive if someone manages to kill without getting caught. If he really wants to find the most capable fighter among us, why not value stealth...»

I frowned in response.

«So, do you think he's okay with leaving a murderer at large? What if they took us all out? He surely wouldn't want such a vile mage to become the heir of Sir Aldric.»

«I doubt it would come to that. If their plan is to pick us off one by one without dueling, they're probably not that powerful. Maybe Skylark just thinks finding them will be a fun pastime for us...» Sophia replied coldly, «unless...»

Sophia shook her head, as if she were dismissing a foolish idea.

For a few minutes, we fell silent. I mentally tried to make sense of the information we had gathered so far.

A girl, Mary Stillwater, was dead.

We knew that the murder had taken place between last night and the time Sophia entered the classroom today.

Since no one seemed to have noticed anything strange this morning, there were two possible explanations: either she had been killed in a secluded place or the murderer had struck last night when all the other students were asleep in their rooms.

Either way, it was strange that Mary agreed to duel under such obviously suspicious conditions.

This made me believe that she was not killed during a duel, but that she was attacked when she did not expect it, probably last night.

But then, why was Mary out of bed? We needed to investigate to find out.

"But where should we start?"

I decided to ask Sophia and see if she had any ideas.

«What do you think we should do now?»

Sophia remained silent for a moment, lost in thought, but her answer wasn't what I expected:

«What do you mean?»

«Uh? What should we do to find the culprit, obviously.»

«Ah thank you... that's not what I meant. I don't see why we should do something about it together. Today I tagged along 'cause it was an emergency, but I already told you: I have no intention of cooperating with you.»

«Oh...»

I had almost forgotten.

For some reason spending time with her felt so natural that the whole month we spent ignoring each other didn't even feel real right now.

«But... working together would surely be more efficient, right?» I tried to object.

«On the contrary, if we investigate on our own it's less likely that we'll make the same mistakes,» Sophia stopped me.

«But-»

«You'd only slow me down anyway, I'd rather do it alone,» she insisted.

"That's just unfair."

My deductive skills could definetly help her in a case like this. But I guess she was just trying to push me away.

«Besides, are you sure you want to be around me? I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not among the most popular students...» Sophia's tone was kinda melancholic.

«I don't care what others think!» I burst out.

«I guess your personality gives it away...»

«Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?»

«Who knows...» replied Sophia with a faint smile.

For a moment, I thought she would actually change her mind.

But after what seemed like an internal conflict she said:

«I've already told you, Elizabeth... I don't want to become your friend just to have to kill you later.»

"Well, it's too late for me, I already consider you a friend."

That's what I wanted to say. But the words just didn't want to come out.

It's not like I minded if it sounded cringy. I was used to her teasing me anyway.

No, I just... didn't want to hear say it was all one sided.

After all, why would that girl even want to be my friend?

So far she had saved my life, defeated the enemy everyone feared and now endured loneliness without even complaining.

Meanwhile, what had I achieved so far?

At the first sign of difficulty, I had locked myself in my room trembling with fear.

Sure, I was at the top of the rankings, but did it even matter? I got there by winning against students less skilled than me.

Why would Sophia even want to hang out with me? Just to make fun of me?

Faced with my silence, the girl got up.

«Let me know if you find out anything important, I'll take care of catching the killer...» she whispered, passing by me.

She left the room without looking back.

After a few moments I started to feel incredibly frustrated with myself.

"Why am I so useless?"

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I had spent the last few weeks thinking about how to get close to Sophia again, and now that I had the opportunity, I had let my insecurity hold me back.

In a fit of rage I kicked the table again.

This time, I didn't hear Sophia's crystal-clear laughter in response.

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This time I was not going to give up.

That was the decision I had made.

If Sophia thought she could find the culprit on her own, I would beat her to it. I would show her what I was capable of. Maybe then she would reconsider her decision not to cooperate with me.

On the one hand, my desire to be accepted by her was rather embarrassing. I didn't even want to imagine how much she would tease me if she found out what was going on in my head.

On the other, I couldn't help but feel a small tinge of pride. This time I hadn't let it get me down. I had quickly got up and got straight down to work.

"I guess I should thank Valentine..."

However, despite my good efforts, my attempts to find out something about Mary Stillwater's murderer had so far been futile.

First of all, I had sought Amy's help.

One of the most important lessons I had learnt so far was that it was perfectly fine to rely on others to compensate for my shortcomings.

Amy, with her innate extroversion, had already managed to build a dense network of acquaintances. Even though her time at the Academy had been relatively short, she seemed to already know a good portion of the class.

Her intentions, however, were not the purest.

«If you know your enemy and yourself, your victory is assured,» she recited when I asked her why she was making such an effort to socialize.

Once again, I thanked the heavens that she was my friend.

In any case, thanks to her efforts, I had managed to gather all the information about Mary Stillwater I could have wished for.

I asked her to ask Chloe, the curly-haired girl we had seen crying in class, if she had noticed anything strange about Mary before her death. But nothing relevant came up.

The victim seemed to be a completely normal girl. Apart from Chloe, she was friends with a couple of other students with whom she almost always hung out.

Her magic power was average. The duels she had fought in were completely normal. No one had ever seen her fight with other students.

In short, there was nothing to suggest that she had any enemies or that anyone had a specific reason for wanting her gone.

Had the killer chosen his victim at random? Perhaps Mary had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Perhaps she had been out for a night walk and had stumbled upon her killer by chance.

Unfortunately, having discovered nothing significant about the victim, I had no other solid leads to follow.

First of all, I had no way of determining where and how the murder had occurred. I had scoured the Academy from top to bottom, but had found no clues to the location of the crime scene.

The murderer must have covered his tracks well.

Or maybe there were no tracks to be found in the first place.

After all, I always had to consider that variable.

Innate powers.

I couldn't rule out that they were also involved in this case. Maybe one of my classmates could make people disappear in the blink of an eye, like the school did every Sunday night....

In any case, I could only wait for now. I had to hope that, if they struck again, the killer would make a misstep.

Sophia must have come to the same conclusion.

In the first days after Mary's death, I had often seen her trying to get information from my classmates.

I don't know if she was very successful, those poor kids looked terrified....

In the last few days, however, she had returned to her usual solitude.

However, we wouldn't have to wait long for the murderer to strike again. But the new murder would only complicate things.

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Ten days had passed since Mary Stillwater's death.

The atmosphere in the Academy had not deviated much from the unnatural calm that had characterised the last month.

The way she had died was not much different from the weekly disappearances we had become accustomed to.

As they say, "out of sight, out of mind".

It was much easier to ignore someone's death if it didn't have the same macabre connotations that had characterised the end of Carl Stuart and Igor Valentine.

It was a Saturday, the last class of the week was coming to an end. Tomorrow night one of us would disappear, just like Mary.

But it was on that lazy afternoon at the end of October that the attention of the entire class was captured in a way that no lesson could ever hope to achieve.

We all noticed it immediately.

Perhaps because, during the teachers' explanations, our gaze always returned to that wall, where our fate was decided in bright letters.

Although we were in the middle of a lesson, the most important writing had changed once again.

89 students remaining.

Just a second ago it had said 90.

At that precise moment, someone, somewhere in the school, had died.

I heard the classroom door open and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sophia darting into the corridor.

I decided not to follow her.

As the class erupted in chaos, much to the teacher's dismay, I knew there was something important to do: count.

It was essential to ascertain how many people were absent.

Among them, in addition to the victim, was the murderer.

"This time you made a big mistake..."

But inside me, something told me it wouldn't be that easy.

And as I approached the end of my count, the concern I had felt grew more and more pressing.

"No... I must have miscounted..."

I recounted, and recounted, and recounted.

But it was useless...

88 students.

Adding Sophia, that just left the classrom, 89.

The only person who, at the time of the new murder, hadn't been in that class was the victim.