"This does, indeed, look as if it was cut with a knife," the old saddle maker commented, letting go of the severed strap in favor of turning to look at the small group: Professor Fai, Professor Ximor, Nagan, and Carthadeus. The professors were nearing the end of questioning the boys — Carthadeus telling his story of when he was inspecting the saddle and Nagan confirming that the other didn't cut the strap himself, no matter how many times Carthadeus took the blame — when the saddle maker and his team arrived to inspect the torn strap. "A particularly sharp and thin one, might I add. One that's made to cut specially cured leather."
Professor Fai's lips tightened into a thin line before asking, "Is there any chance it was an accident?"
"Unless you have something so sharp lying around in your tack room," the saddle maker said, pausing with a sigh, "there really is no other explanation for this than foul play."
Nagan's blood boiled at the thought of someone doing this intentionally. Milora could have been killed! If this was some sick prank someone was trying to pull, they obviously didn't think of the disastrous consequences. Did Milora have any enemies? It was hard to imagine, but he knew what jealousy could drive people to. His breath caught in his throat as the image of his mother's lifeless body flashed through his mind, and he shook his head quickly. This caught the eye of Carthadeus who stood beside him with his arms tightly crossed — both boys kept out of the way near the edge of the room — raising an eyebrow at his sudden actions in question.
"Could the cut have been done by a kitchen knife or a dagger? A sword with a thin edge?" Nagan asked instead, ignoring Carthadeus' gaze.
"No," the saddle maker replied shortly, patting the saddle behind them. Even though the reason why they were here was grim, he could see the curiosity in the two boys' eyes as they both stepped forward to get a closer look at the saddle. "You see, there's a special process us dragon saddle makers use to make the leather sturdy enough to be used in the first place. A process that includes soaking the leather in a specially alchemized solution that makes the leather more durable and heat resistant — or cold or water-resistant, depending on the dragon. Another couple of layers are applied to the side that will be rubbing against the dragon before we start constructing the saddle. Because of this, a normal knife would be able to cut it eventually, but the cut would be jagged, and the blade would dull too quickly to be efficient. The cut on this saddle is clean, which could only mean whoever did this used the exact knife, or a knife similar to it, that we saddle makers use." He pulled out what looked to be a paintbrush at first, but the end instead held a dark blade that refracted a yellow-orange color. "The blade is forged by another alchemically made metal. It's more durable and can be sharpened more finely."
"I didn't realize alchemy was such a big part of saddle making," Carthadeus commented, his expression thoughtful. Nagan silently agreed.
The saddle maker gave the boys an amused smile. "Alchemy is often viewed as only to create your magic crystals and a few other devices, when in reality, its applications are very widespread. I'm sure your alchemy teacher could give you the full list if you asked."
"Another time perhaps," Professor Ximor cut in, but her tone was gentle as she rested a hand on each of her student's shoulders to pull them back to reality. "Is it possible a medical knife could have been used?"
The saddle maker looked doubtful. "I can't say for sure. They are sharp, but aren't needed to be as durable since cutting into flesh is much easier than cutting into this sort of leather. No matter, you might want to check with the nurse if there are any blades missing. I doubt the perpetrator has returned the knife since there is a residue that builds up from the oils. It's more likely that they destroyed it, or at least tried to get rid of it somehow."
The door opened, and in walked the rest of the saddle maker's team.
"No other saddles hold any signs of tampering," one of them announced.
"I suppose that's a good sign for the rest of you," the saddle maker said to the boys before looking at Fai. "Well, Professor, I'm afraid that's all I can tell you. I'm sorry for what happened, and I hope the girl makes a full recovery."
"Thank you for coming out here on such short notice," the professor replied instead, bowing his head slightly. "We appreciate it greatly."
The saddle maker waved his hand, batting away the show of gratitude with a chuckle. "No need for such grandeur, we're just doing our jobs." He motioned for one of the men to retrieve the damaged saddle. "We will return it once the strap is repaired. Have a good night, Professors. Young masters."
The team left the room soon after, leaving the professors and boys to mull over what they were told.
"Well," Professor Fai began, turning to the boys with a slight smirk on his lips, "enjoyed your late-night lesson about saddles? Was it more interesting than incantations, or dare I say, combat ethics?"
"You're putting unfair comparisons against the saddles," Nagan replied with a scoff, cutting Carthadeus off from whatever objection he was about to say. "Anything is better than you droning about the ethics of combat. Even you sound bored when talking about it."
Carthadeus sputtered at Nagan's response. "Are you really that much of a teacher's pet to get away with speaking to your professor like that?"
"I mean, you can hear it in his tone that he was asking for it," Nagan defended. "And no, I am not a teacher's pet, thank you very much. There's an art of knowing which professor you can talk back to."
"Which is...?" Carthadeus ventured on, glancing at the two professors, watching and wondering what they thought about Nagan speaking like this in front of them. Professor Fai looked almost amused while Professor Ximor kept her expression carefully blank as usual. He instantly regretted asking the question as Nagan gave him a sly grin.
"It's all about weighing the consequences," he explained in almost a scholarly way. Did he really have it down to a science? Carthadeus highly doubted it, but listened nonetheless. "For example, Professor Fai is usually a good sport about these kinds of things, only if you accept that it practically gives him permission to make you run extra laps or have a heavier swing when evaluating your swordwork in retaliation."
"And what of I, Young Master?" Professor Ximor said behind them, her eyebrow raised in a perfect arch. Carthadeus had the pleasure of watching Nagan falter at her tone and turning to give the professor a sheepish grin. Professor Fai disguised his laugh with a cough.
"I respect you immensely, Professor," Nagan began. "And, um, I'm kinda scared to find out what the consequences are."
"Wise boy," Professor Ximor said with a hum, her lips subtly pulling into a smile. "Now if you two are done, I believe it's time for you to return to your dorm."
"Professor Ximor is right," Professor Fai added, directing his next words to Carthadeus. "You've been cleared by Nagan, for now, even though you took full blame after the whole event. But I highly doubt it was actually you who cut the strap yourself. Your room may be searched regardless, however, as everyone else's will be as well."
"You think someone hid the knife in the bottom of their trunks or something?" Nagan asked dubiously. "Anyone smart would find somewhere else to hide it. Somewhere far from them."
"We will be scanning the grounds as well," Professor Ximor assured.
"You sound rather opposed to the room searches, Nagan," Carthadeus sneered. "Afraid they'll find something there?"
Nagan narrowed his eyes. "That's a dangerous statement. We live on the same floor; think I can't air out some of your dirty laundry as well?"
"Alright, off to bed," Professor Fai cut in quickly. "I don't want to hear any of it."
The professor reinforced the end of the discussion by taking hold of both of the boys' shoulders, escorting them out of the room and nudging them in the direction of their dorm.
"Good night, and I'll see you two tomorrow," Professor Fai said with finality, leaving in the opposite direction along with Professor Ximor.
This left the two boys alone in the hall.
They shared an awkward glance at the sudden realization before Carthadeus turned with a huff, stalking towards their dorm. Nagan didn't know if he should have been offended by the show of contempt but followed regardless. They were in the same boat, anyway.
What Nagan didn't expect was when Carthadeus took a left instead of a right.
"Hey," he called out, confusion evident in his voice. "The dorm is this way."
"I'm not stupid," was all he got in response. This irked him, and he was about to give Carthadeus a piece of his mind until he realized where that path led to. He sprinted past the other boy, stopping in front of him and pushed him back slightly by his chest.
"Don't touch me," Carthadeus snapped, batting Nagan's hand away, but reluctantly took a step back. "Get out of my way."
"What, so you can sit in front of the hospital wing all night?" Nagan waited for a response, but when Carthadeus said nothing, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. "If I have a hero complex, you have a martyr complex. Seriously? Admitting it's your fault for the saddle breaking?"
Carthadeus furrowed his brow. "But it is my fault. She asked for my opinion, and I didn't do anything about it."
Nagan barely refrained from rolling his eyes again, instead, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look. It's not like punishing yourself for something so irrational will make anything better. We only have a few more days of training left. Trust me, I'm doing you a favor." Nagan gave him an ultimatum. "Either walk back to the dorm yourself or I can take you there forcefully."
Carthadeus jut his chin up, gazing down his nose at Nagan in disdain. "Can you?"
Nagan's eyes sharpened, and his jaw clenched dangerously at the challenge. He stepped forward, fully prepared to haul the other boy over his shoulder.
"Alright! Alright." Carthadeus lurched away from Nagan before he could be grabbed, holding his hands up in surrender and gritting out, "Fine. Have it your way."
They once again began walking in the right direction — Carthadeus with tight strides and Nagan with his hands shoved in his pockets — but this time, Nagan was slowly regretting his decision to stop Carthadeus. What did he care if the other boy decided to make himself miserable? In all honesty, he didn't. What he did care about, however, was increasing their chances of survival. They were both days away from being sent into a war, and no matter how much he disliked the haughty boy, he didn't wish death upon him. Each day of training counted, and it was a bad idea to attempt it after a sleepless night.
"I'm surprised you haven't punched me yet or something," Carthadeus commented, them being about halfway to the dorm. "You two are close, aren't you?"
By this time, Nagan was sick of hearing Carthadeus' voice. "I'm sure something can be arranged," he said with feigned sweetness.
Carthadeus wisely kept silent, stepping to the side not-so-subtly to put another foot between them.
•____________________________•
Early chapter due to a heck ton of inspiration, courtesy of All Eyes on You by Smash Into Pieces. Seriously, I've been listening to it on repeat for 24 hours now XD It is now officially Nagan's character song (until I find a better one at least, but at this point I highly doubt it lol).