The air conditioning was turned on. It blew a cool gentle breeze that wafted through the room, dropping the temperature by an acceptable margin. It was just enough to make the room feel cool but not cold and somehow warm but not hot. More than once, Melmarc had taken a glance at it to see if he could pick out any specific thing to indicate that it was the work of someone with the [Crafter] class. Aside from the mana particles that it was emitting, there were no other signs.
Ark sat quietly beside him, doing his best to be on his best behavior. Melmarc had not been sent to the principal’s office with his brother too many times, but he had gone a few times, mostly to play witness in some way or the other… there was that one time that he had been caught trying to stop Ark from jumping a fence and skipping school and the teacher had assume that the Lockwood brothers were skipping school, but that was something else.
Unlike most of the cases in the principal’s office, Ark was quiet and patient. He waited the entire fifteen minutes they had been sitting here without saying a word. He waited the entire fifteen minutes while Mr. Okoro typed away at his keyboard and made facial expressions like a curious man who wasn’t sure of what he was curious about.
Ark didn’t even cross his legs once. Melmarc was proud of him. As for Mr. Okoro, he was done typing. Apart from greeting them and offering them their seats, he had barely said a word to them since they entered the office. Even now, done with all his typing, he wasn’t even looking at them.
Melmarc couldn’t blame him. He doubted it would be comfortably possible for someone to pay attention to him and Melmarc with Veebee in the room. Mr. Okoro looked enamored by the creature.
Veebee walked over to a tall cabinet and was inspecting it. He tapped the side of the cabinet as if it was some old computer that refused to work, then paused to look at it from another angle. Placing his hands on the smooth surface, he climbed it, stopping at each new section to tap on the side and give it an odd look.
Mr. Okoro watched it all with an expression that Melmarc could not place until Veebee got to the top of the cabinet and sat there, staring off into the unknown like some philosopher about to be put to the death.
Before long Mr. Okoro blinked as if shaking himself from his own thoughts and finally turned his attention on Melmarc and Ark.
“You said you got him how?” he asked Melmarc.
“Notification,” Melmarc said.
Ark nodded along. “On his interface, after he woke up. Not to toot my own horn,” he added, puffing his chest out and clearly tooting his own horn, “but I’m the one that spotted the notification.”
Dissonant.
“Not to toot his own horn,” Melmarc reiterated, ignoring the thought.
“And you said that he’s a…” Mr. Okoro left the statement open for Melmarc to complete it.
Melmarc shrugged. “No idea. My interface marks it as a Veebee.”
Dissonant.
Veebee turned its head to look at Melmarc when he said it, which was odd since Melmarc was not looking at it. He simply felt its eyes on him.
“And you believe it is safe?” Mr. Okoro asked.
Melmarc and Ark looked back at Veebee. Veebee smiled at them, an upward line curving along where its mouth was supposed to be.
They both looked back at Mr. Okoro.
“Yes,” Melmarc said.
“We’re still working on that,” Ark said at the same time.
Mr. Okoro looked at Ark. “Working on it how exactly?”
“He’s refused to be my friend for reasons unknown to me.” Ark looked at Veebee, and, as if wanting to be an asshole, it waves to prove him wrong.
Ark flipped him the bird, replacing his middle finger with his ring finger. Mr. Okoro opened his mouth the moment Ark did it only for Melmarc to see him pause. He almost laughed at the man’s confusion. Ark was clearly flipping a summoned creature the bird in this moment, but there were two problems Mr. Okoro had to deal with. The first was that the insult was being given to his brother’s summoned creature. The second was that it was not necessarily the bird being flipped.
Ark noticed then looked down at his hand then up at Mr. Okoro. “Oh, this?” he said with an awkward smile. “Would you believe me if I said it’s how they say, don’t look for my trouble in Nigeria?”
Melmarc dragged a hand down his face, fighting back his laughter at the incredulous look on Mr. Okoro’s face. The man’s words in response to Ark did not come as a surprise.
“Mr. Tar’arkna,” he said very officially.
Ark sat up straighter. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m Nigerian.”
Ark paused. “Oh.”
There was a very long moment of silence within which Veebee jumped from the cabinet he was sitting on to the bookshelf. It slammed into the upper section of the bookshelf, tried to grab on with no fingers that had somehow managed to climb up the smooth surface of the cabinet, lost purchase and went tumbling down dramatically.
Melmarc watched all this without looking, intrigued by his perfect awareness of Veebee. Veebee hit the ground with a thud but let out no sound. It dragged Mr. Okoro’s attention.
There was a moment of silence where everyone simply waited patiently for what would happen next. In the end, Mr. Okoro moved his attention to Ark.
“And where’s your summoned creature?” he asked. “Your salamander.”
Ark looked down and away. For a moment it looked like a genuine emotion of hurt. Then Melmarc got it a little belatedly. The Pain washed over him. It wasn’t large of powerful. It was simply present. It came with fear, the fear that he might never get Spitfire back. It was an interesting thing, even if a little ludicrous, when Veebee had clearly said that what was happening was bad for him but good for Spitfire.
Mr. Okoro’s expression softened. “Is that a touchy subject?”
“Not really,” Ark answered, brightening up a little. “My familiar is just very weak right now and needs to rest up for what may or may not be a long time.”
“I see.” Mr. Okoro nodded in understanding. “The school’s CCTV cameras have you running through the hallways with your familiar before finally disappearing into the boy’s restroom, where I assume you entered a portal. I take it the portal must’ve been a tough one.”
“Well,” Ark dragged out the word, “I would probably bet money on it.”
Mr. Okoro’s brows creased in a confused frown. “You would bet money on it?”
Ark nodded, giving that smile that Melmarc had since learnt that teachers in their previous school did not like. One had once described it as a smile of mischief.
“What my brother is trying to say,” Melmarc interjected quickly before Mr. Okoro could speak, “is that he actually doesn’t remember what happened to him in the portal that he entered. In fact—”Dissonant“—he doesn’t even remember entering it.”
“I remember going to the restroom because I was pressed,” Ark said, then he shook his head. “But not much else. I’m sorry.”
Melmarc read the look on the man’s eyes, read his thoughts along with the look. Mr. Okoro did not believe them. In fact, he believed that they were intentionally lying.
Which they very much were.
“And you?” he asked, looking at Melmarc. “You have to remember a wound as serious as that.”
Melmarc felt the man’s eyes settle on his shoulder and shook his head.
“I remember getting up in class because I thought my classmate was pulling my shirt behind me. Then I remember something dragging me. The next thing I know, I’m waking up in the infirmary in a lot of pain.”
The man pressed his lips in a thin line. Melmarc could see more questions bubbling up in his head. At the same time, he wondered what exactly Mr. Okoro’s role was in Fallen High. The other students didn’t know about him or talk about him. He doubted any of his classmates had even ever seen the man before.
“And then you saw a notification telling you about this guy,” Mr. Okoro nodded at Veebee who was currently admiring a potted plant at the corner of the office. Melmarc really hoped the sense of admiration he was getting from Veebee was not that of romantic interest.
“Yes, sir,” Melmarc nodded in response.
“And do you have any guess as to why you were offered the interesting creature?”
Melmarc and Ark exchanged a look.
“The portal,” they said in unison.
“So, you,” Mr. Okoro pointed at Ark, “lose a familiar to the portal. And you,” he pointed at Melmarc, “get one in return.”
His voice was calm and collected, but Melmarc could feel the annoyance at being taken for a fool beneath it all. The man thought that they were toying with him. They were lying to him and that was true, but it was very different from them toying with him. Sometimes, Melmarc had learnt long ago, lies were necessary. The only problem with lying now was the headache he was beginning to get from all the dissonance that he was giving himself.
Mr. Okoro, at this point, was staring daggers at the both of them. Ark, in usual Ark-fashion, was unfazed by the looks. If there was anything bothering him right now, it was his discipline in keeping himself civilized.
“Amnesia,” Mr. Okoro muttered to himself. “That’s your explanation for everything.”
Melmarc looked down and away, unable to meet the man’s eyes. “We’re really sorry.” He almost winced at the spike of headache he felt. “We wish we could—”
“My apologies,” Ark interrupted, leaning forward while Veebee walked over to stand beside Melmarc’s chair, looking up at him in confusion.
“Yes, Mr. Tar’arkna,” Mr. Okoro said.
“Just a quick question. Are we being interrogated?” Ark asked. “My brother can be polite to a fault, but I am not my brother. Is there something wrong about us not being able to remember anything?”
Mr. Okoro gave him the trademark look all teachers tended to have learnt specifically for students like Ark. It was the look that asked where he got the tungsten balls to challenge them. Although his was not as hard as most teachers.
“You’ve done nothing wrong,” he said after a moment. “But it is school policy that whenever a student goes through something deemed dramatic and or traumatic, they are required to attend mandatory therapy sessions for the sake of their mental health.”
“Can we opt out of it?” Ark asked politely.
Melmarc almost laughed. Why? Because he knew for a fact that Ark knew what the word mandatory meant and had very clearly heard it. he was being a comedian, and not the type most people considered fun.
Judging by his own suppressed laughter, Melmarc knew it was safe to say that he wasn’t most people.
“No, Mr. Tar’arkna,” Mr. Okoro said. “You cannot opt out.”
“Then what about the therapists?” Ark asked immediately.
Veebee was still looking at Melmarc funny. This time his eyes looked as if he was squinting at Melmarc. Melmarc intentionally did not look at him.
“What about them?” Mr. Okoro asked.
“Are they going to be Gifted?” Ark asked. “You know, [Telepath]s and [Empath]s.”
<> Veebee blurted out.
Mr. Okoro turned incredulous eyes on Ark and Melmarc. There was a tinge of horror and confusion in them.
“What?” they asked him.
He pointed a strong accusatory finger at Veebee. “It speaks?”
“Of course it speaks,” Ark said as if it was a stupid question. “It had arms and legs and stands upright and has a mouth. You would at least expect it to make a sound.”
“They normally don’t make a sound,” Mr. Okoro blurted out before suddenly pressing his lips into a very thin and strong line.
“They?” Melmarc asked. “You know what Veebee is?”
<> Veebee said in displeasure. <>
“Yes,” Melmarc agreed, “Veebee is Veebee.” He returned his attention to Mr. Okoro. “Do you know what type of familiar it is?”
Mr. Okoro shook his head. “I actually don’t.”
Dissonant.
Melmarc was not surprised to hear that. In fact, he was fairly certain that after the initial slip up, Mr. Okoro knew that they knew he was lying. But like most adults, he didn’t care because they couldn’t do anything about it.
Veebee plaed his hand on the leg of Melmarc’s chair and climbed up. His fingerless stubs for hands simply attaching themselves to the wood as he climbed. Then he climbed up on the table.
Mr. Okoro did his best impression of pretending to not be afraid of it. Melmarc was genuinely impressed. Then again, he remembered how careful his father’s team had been around Veebee the first time they’d met him. Saxi had been lividly terrified of him, especially after Veebee had asked to eat.
Veebee stared Mr. Okoro down for a while before looking at Melmarc. Holding eye contact with Melmarc, it pointed at Mr. Okoro. <>
Mr. Okoro paled visibly. Ark snickered, smothering a laugh.
“It’s murder,” Melmarc said, disagreeing.
Mr. Okoro’s eyes widened in confused horror.
<> Veebee asked.
This time Ark did nothing to restrain his laughter and Melmarc sighed internally. When Uncle Dorthna—not their father—had returned them to the infirmary by simply walking through a door in the house that led to the infirmary, the plan had been to be as discreet as possible.
The amnesia plot was all Ark’s idea. When they had asked Uncle Dorthna if that made sense, he’d said that it was not his problem. Then Ark had asked if he had any spells that could help them keep up the amnesia story even if anyone tried to check with some skill or the other and he had said yes. As for his answer when Ark had asked him if they could have it, Melmarc could still remember it very clearly.
“No,” Uncle Dorthna had said. “You’re a [Demon Lord], and he’s an [August Intruder]. You’re both powerful, act like it.”
So here they were, lying through their teeth. But the problem was that they were not following Melmarc’s part of the plan. The part that involved Veebee being quiet and Ark looking remorseful.
He sighed as he told Veebee, “No. We don’t eat people here.”
<> Veebee asked, shocked. <>
Melmarc paused. “Okay maybe bad people.” Mr. Okoro’s attention shifted to him in horror, and he rectified. “Maybe not bad people, too. But we’ll talk about that later.”
He so desperately wanted to add how Veebee was also not supposed to be talking right now.
“I really hope Veebee listens to you,” Mr. Okoro said in worry.
“He does,” Melmarc confirmed. And then there were times when Veebee forgot and just did what he wanted to do.
Veebee looked at Mr. Okoro. He pointed his stub of a hand at his face then at Mr. Okoro’s face. <> he said. <> He smiled something menacing. <>
Melmarc rolled his eyes, reached forward and picked Veebee up by the scruff of his neck. Veebee didn’t even try to wiggle away. He just kept pointing his stub of a hand from his face to Mr. Okoro’s face and back.
<> he finished when Melmarc placed him on the ground.
“Really sorry about that,” Melmarc apologized. “He’s usually more well behaved.”
“You called him an it,” Ark shrugged. “You can’t really blame him for not liking you.”
Mr. Okoro tried to shake it off. “Back to the therapy sessions. You two will be placed on a one month therapy plan. Your schedule will be sent to your emails and your classes will be adjusted to fit in where necessary.”
“We have the option of choosing a Gifted therapist or not,” Melmarc said. “The consent form we signed during our admissions don’t count.”
“You will get new forms,” Mr. Okoro confirmed.
Ark cocked a brow at that. “Isn’t that supposed to be optional?”
“It is. Or you would like a non-Gifted therapist?”
“I’d like anyone that can’t go poking around in my head.”
Melmarc remembered Doctor Donovan. He couldn’t forget the man’s name even if he tried. The man who’d gotten trapped inside his head that he’d had to release.
Is it safe for another person to go poking inside my head?
It was an interesting question considering Jabari had done just that. Then again, Jabari was on the level of Uncle Dorthna and that level was no joke.
“In your case,” Mr. Okoro was saying, “arrangements can be made for a therapist that does not have that specific line of skills.”
“And make it couples therapy,” Ark said.
“I’m sorry, what?” Mr. Okoro blurted out. Melmarc gave Ark an incredulous look at the same time. However, he did not see any joviality in Ark’s eyes. The request was a serious one.
Mr. Okoro looked at Melmarc. “Do you also want this? I can only authorize such a thing if you agree to it to.”
“He does,” Ark said with a touch of finality to his voice.
Melmarc nodded immediately. The last thing he wanted to do was disagree with a serious Ark. “I would also like couple’s therapy with my brother.”
Ark reached out and patted him on the head gently. Melmarc closed his eyes and sighed in exhaustion. He did not move his head, though, neither did he remove Ark’s hand. Once Ark was done, he removed his hand.
Mr. Okoro looked at them as if he was worried. Not for them, but about them. As if he had just realized that they were ultimately a troublesome duo, a problem the school had to be ready to deal with.
“Will that be all?” Ark asked. “My brother and I—my brother specifically—still needs some rest.”
Mr. Okoro nodded. “Yes, yes. Sorry to take up your time. I know you’ve been discharged but your record says you both still need to take it easy for the next few days. Maybe weeks for you, Mr. Melmarc.”
“Thank you so much.” Ark was already on his feet. Melmarc followed him and they headed for the door.
Melmarc opened it for Ark to leave first, then Veebee. However, Veebee was slow on his exit. Walking backward, he kept his eyes on Mr. Okoro. He pointed at him.
<> Then it walked out, leaving a horrified look on Mr. Okoro’s face.
“I am so sorry about that,” Melmarc apologized profusely before closing the door behind him.
He turned to scold Veebee and found him and Ark giving each other a high five while Ark held a hand over his stomach and tried not to laugh too hard.
<> Veebee intoned, quoting himself. <>
He was laughing without making a sound.
“I wish I did,” Ark replied, rubbing imaginary tears from his eyes. “You’re good at this.”
<> Veebee said, then cocked his head to the side.
Ark raised a brow. “What?”
<> Veebee sighed. <>
Ark paused. “I’m sorry, what?”