Shortly after the bout ended, Crow carried Fie to the sick bay to receive treatment for her leg. With that, Fie’s squire test was over.
Although she had suffered a muscle cramp, Fie was lucky enough not to have sustained any heavier injuries. After receiving some treatment, was able to walk once more. Saying that he was needed elsewhere, Crow had left Fie as she was. After a while, she found herself in a corner of the arena, hugging her knees and crying.
(Lucky? No, that means nothing...)
Even though she was able to move her legs, she would still be trapped in that tiny pavilion. Whether her legs were healthy or not, Fie’s life hadn’t changed at all.
(It’s over...)
Fie’s battle was over. And so were her hopes and dreams.
“Ha, frustrated, aren’t we?”
From above, a voice. The visage of Crow filled Fie’s eyes as she lifted her head ever so slightly.
As Fie hadn’t exactly announced her location, it would seem that Crow had taken the pains to locate her amongst the crowds of candidates.
“Have you come to pity me...?”
Crow could not help but smile wryly at Fie’s statement as she rubbed her nose and stared up at him with an adequately dark expression. This amused Crow — to think that a few hours prior, this very youth before his eyes had been so familiar and vulnerable.
“What’s the matter? Suddenly taking on that abrasive attitude.”
“I don’t need your pity...”
Indeed, Fie did not need anyone’s pity. Crow would probably just say one of the few cliched phrases: that there were more chances in the future, or to work harder next time. Fie didn’t know the frequency at which these tests occurred. Another one might not be held again until next year.
With time, even those useless, good-for-nothing guards could be fired and replaced. If they were replaced with actual guards who did their jobs, she would never be able to do anything like this ever again.
In fact, that may happen as soon as tomorrow, and she may never be able to set another foot out of the back pavilion.
That was why this had been Fie’s last chance.
“It... It’s over for me...”
“Ahh... You lost, and that’s that. Yet you’re making a face as if your life is over!”
(But that’s right, Crow. It IS over... My life is over...)
“Oh, I should probably let you know that you passed.”
You passed.
Fie thought she was just hearing things, for a moment. However, there was no mistake about it. Crow had clearly said, “You passed.”
“H-Huh? What? W-Why..!?”
“What do you mean huh and why? No one said you would fail upon losing, right?”
(Well... I guess there is that. But normally...)
“It is true that winning is advantageous to your application... And those who win in the semifinals are guaranteed a spot in the Royal Knights. But that isn’t all there is to it. Why, exactly, did you think knights like us bothered to look at the candidates of the squire’s test? Did you think we were merely spectating? No, it is about searching for skills that one’s own platoon needs — or to pick up talented individuals.” Crow grinned at Fie. “There is one platoon captain who wants to take you as a squire. That’s what I’m saying. Congratulations, you passed. Isn’t that great, Heath?”
Fie could not believe her eyes as she clutched the piece of paper Crow had handed over.
Sure enough, Heath’s name was written on it. And next to that, the name of the platoon she had been assigned to — the 18th Knights.
(Huh...? 18th... Knights...?)
Fie cocked her head to the side.
The reason for that was that Orstoll, by right, only had 17 Knight platoons.
“Ahh, I get it. You don’t know about that. Rest assured, they really exist, you know. Well, there are some special circumstances, and they don’t exist in writing, but that’s just how it is. The other knights treat the 18th just like any other. Of course, if the squires graduate into knighthood, they are treated the same too. Actually, I’m in the 18th too. It’s... not like it’s a secret, clandestine unit or anything like that. Does that bother you?”
“N-No! Nothing like that at all!” Fie shook her head vigorously.
The fact that she had become a knight was enough for Fie — platoons and the like were more of an afterthought. Above everything, she was glad to be in the same platoon as Crow. As the conversation progressed, gradual realization crept across Fie’s being — she had actually passed the squire test.
“Uwaah... Sir Crow...”
With a huge burden lifted from her heart, Fie began crying even more than before as large gobs of tears fell from her eyes.
“Hey now. You’re crying even after you’ve passed? You’re really a handful, eh?”
Smiling, Crow held Fie’s head close to his chest, patting her head as he did so.
“This is the only time I’m gonna comfort a man, you got that?”
After Fie had her fill of tears, she followed Crow to the platoon assembly point, where the other knights were gathering.
“I mean, you have to greet everyone after all. Can you walk?”
“Yes! I’m fine!”
Crow could not help but smile with amusement once more at Heath’s current attitude — following him like a vigorously tail-wagging puppy; a considerable departure from the dark, sarcastic tone he had taken earlier.
“Ho ho, so you’re prancing about now that you know you’ve passed? What happened to that sharp tongue of yours just now? Pretty honest, aren’t you?”
“That... was because I thought I had failed for sure...”
Parting with her abrasive attitude, Fie responded with an intense blush, in addition to looking pointedly in the other direction. However, Crow was glad that his charge had seen it fit to smile so happily once more.
“So I wanted to ask! Why did I pass, anyway? Did they see a hidden talent for the sword in me?”
“No, it was because you were small and made such erratic movements.”
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean!?” Fie sounded disappointed. After all, that was nothing like what a knight was supposed to be.
“And... because you’ve got guts. It just so happened that we were looking for someone like that. You passed because of that requirement, so don’t sit around complaining, you hear?”
With another of his wry smiles, Crow ruffled Fie’s hair, tousling it with his hands.
(Well I mean, that’s true, but...!)
Fie thought that there should be a more fitting reason for one to pass such a test.
“Our platoon seeks out and gathers specialists. Even if someone is relatively unreliable with the sword, if they have a special skill or talent, we’ll take them.”
“Unreliable... What can you do then, Sir Crow?”
“Me? Why, I can probably do a bit of everything. Kinda omnipotent, you know?”
“Huh...”
Placing a hand on his chin, Crow struck a pose to impress — and Fie could only bluntly think about how suspiciously unreliable he looked.
Eventually, the pair came to stand in front of what appeared to be a warehouse.
“We are sort of unofficial at this point in time. I mean, they can’t just build a new place for each platoon, so we’re borrowing this warehouse for now and modifying it to suit our daily needs and activities.”
Apparently, it was indeed just a warehouse.
“It’s actually pretty comfy inside, so don’t worry.”
Upon opening the sliding door, a wide central space was revealed — the contents of the warehouse were not crates, but instead a sofa and long table, smaller tables and chairs, and shelves adorned by the personal effects and weapons of the 18th’s members.
There were beautiful flowers growing in pots and planters. There were also cosmetics — why would there be beauty products in a place like this? In another corner, numerous bows and arrows rested on the shelves. Countless assembled mechanical constructs of unknown materials and springs. Hammers, screwdrivers, and a myriad of other work tools.
In addition to all that, four men were casually seated in various locations around the room.
“Huh. So you’re the fabled newcomer. Welcome.”
A normal-looking young man with no distinctive features greeted Fie, winking in the process.
“...”
A wordless and absurdly large man was next. He was even bigger than Gormus, and he sat silently in his specially-made, incredibly large chair. A single hand was raised in greeting. However, his movements were not threatening in the slightest — instead, it was a light, casual greeting, almost like a silent “Hey.”
“Hello.”
A stoic greeting from an equally stoic man was next — an eyepatch covered one side of his face as he greeted Fie without any sign of emotion.
“Well! I’ve heard the rumors but you really are kinda small aren’tcha? Welcome.”
A middle-aged man smiled and waved at Fie. Although he was a knight, he was dressed in what appeared to be work overalls.
“Um, yes. Thank you for having me.” Fie lowered her head as a sign of respect.
“The Knight-Captain will be here soon, so just wait patiently,” the plain-faced young man said, pouring a cup of tea and offering it to Fie.
It was a pleasant-smelling herbal tea.
(The Captain huh... I wonder what kind of person he is...?)
It was because of this particular person expressing an interest in Fie that she had become a knight.
Sure enough, echoing footsteps could be heard outside the warehouse. The door opened, and from beyond it came a youth — a familiar one at that.
(Ah... this person...)
With jet-black hair, blue-grey eyes, and a mask covering the upper half of his face, Fie could not quite make out his features. However, one could tell that he was a handsome youth, even with it on.
The moment that was etched into Fie’s memory — the moment when she had collapsed during the test. Is this all you’ve got? Does it end here? This was the person who had posed that very question to her.
The masked man looked around the warehouse slowly, before saying in a calm voice:
“Good. It seems like everyone is here.”
And so it came to be that the masked man stood before five knights and a single squire.
“Since we have a newcomer, I should take the time to introduce myself. I am the platoon captain of the 18th Knights, Yore.”
(This person is the captain of my platoon...)