Around him, 10 boys fought in pairs with dull bladed training swords. The place was the training grounds for training knight apprentices that Crowley himself made by clearing the yard of his own house. For a while now, teaching swordplay here was what put food on Crowley’s table. It was a second practice of the day, and he ended up dozing off in the middle of it.
"That was rude of me."
After getting up from his chair, he clapped his hands, bringing the training session to an end, the boys bowed and thanked him. However, one of them called him out on falling asleep during their training and gave Crowley some trouble. After Crowley dealt with the young trouble maker, the boy's attitude changed to genuine respect for Crowley. Dismissing them once again the pupils started to leave and Crowley returned his chair.
The boys stopped and noticed a young woman walking to Crowley who had just sat down. Crowley's gaze was turn to the ground in thought when the bottom of a brown dress came into his view.
"...?"
Crowley looked up to the young woman, she wore such a gentle expression. She placed her arms behind her and leaned over to bring her face closer to Crowley's.
"It has been a while, Crowley. How have you been?"
Crowley stared at her for a moment, then it clicked.
"..!"
"Ceci-!"
Before he could finish the name she quickly placed her hand over Crowley's mouth.
"!?"
"Shh! You can't called me that anymore." She whispered
"Cecil Emard is dead, remember?"
She removes her hand.
"Ah. I thought you really did die..." His voice became low and quieter. "No. I managed to survive, somehow. Luckily, none of my vitals were hit..." Her voice also become soft.
"I see. Thank goodness, I thought I had lost you too..." Crowley covered his face with a hand and her face became dejected, ('Thank goodness?') she thought, Crowley did not say 'Thank God', ...although, she knew why.
"I am happy. That you are safe, Crow." She gave Crowley a warm smile when he looked back to her.
The boys who were still watching turned their attention elsewhere.
"H-Hey, that person’s uniform! He must be a Templar Knight, no?"
"What would a Templar Knight be doing at a training school of an out in the sticks town like this?"
"Hey, better shut up, guys. That person is Gilbert Chartres-sama, and the rumor has it that he’s a candidate to be the next Master of the Order," someone said.
Crowley only inclined his head, and the woman once known as Cecil turned to look at the Templar Knight.
Gilbert Chartres. That name brought back memories.
Crowley’s eyes focused on the young man that appeared on the practice grounds. If he remembered right, the man was 24 now, a year younger than himself.
Did God still dwell in his heart even after he had gone through that war? Crowley wondered all of a sudden.
Having finished weaving his way through the crowding students, Gilbert was going straight for where Crowley sat. Compared to a year ago, he had gained a more dignified air about him, it appeared.
The young woman who still stood in front of Crowley moved to the side and lowered her head a bit as Gilbert came to Crowley. ("Will he recognized me?") She thought.
Gilbert stopped in front of the sitting Crowley and addressed him, "It has been a long time, Crowley-sama."
Looking up at Gilbert, out loud he said, "Drop the '-sama', Gilbert. These days, you’re a much greater man than I am."
But Gilbert paid his request no mind and continued, "Crowley-sama. Why do you not attend church anymore?"
It looked like he didn’t intend to let up on the formalities anytime soon.
A shadow of worry clouded Gilbert’s expression as he asked, "Ever since that war, you stopped coming to church. Naturally, I know the feeling, too, and I understand it. So many of our comrades fell in that war. It pains our hearts so, and some even lost the most precious thing there is - their faith."
Standing silent, the woman's eyes narrowed.
"…" Yeah, and I’m one of them, Crowley thought to himself. He had started to lose faith, he knew.
"But you are not like that, sir, I am sure. You saved so many of our comrades. Including me, of course. If not for you, I…"
But Crowley interrupted him, "It wasn’t me who saved you. It was God, Gilbert, because He saw how unshakeable your faith was." A bitter smile threatened to twist his lips at how ridiculous it was that these words came out of the mouth of someone like him - someone who had started to lose his faith in God.
However, to that Gilbert answered, still gazing at him fixedly, "Even if so, it only means that you, another survivor of that war, are also a person chosen by Our Lord."
"I just got lucky."
"Crowley-sama."
"If you have no other business with me, I’ll excuse myself."
Crowley got up from his broken chair. It rattled again as he did. It's left back leg needed to be reinforced, or the chair would continue to rock, and he would be risking to nod off at an inappropriate time again.
He would fix it later, he decided.
With his back to Gilbert, he was about to walk off when Gilbert remarked, "The Knights Templar are looking for a knight worthy to become the next Master."
Now, this seemed to be the business he had with Crowley.
Crowley turned back around, "I heard my pupils say earlier that you’re a Master candidate. Congratulations."
Gilbert gazed at Crowley, "I would like to recommend you for the position. Our comrades all agree with me. If only you attended the assembly…"
But Crowley only shrugged his shoulders. "I’m not worthy."
"Your achievements in that wretched war shine so bright that it is not an exaggeration to call them uniquely outstanding. Bearing the noble intention to sacrifice yourself for the sake of your comrades in your heart, you saved a great many of them. Risking your life, you slew legions of enemies. I cannot think of anyone who could be worthier than—”
But Crowley laughed at that, "Sacrificing myself, eh. If I’m that great a man as you say, then why didn’t I make good on my self-sacrificing intention and die there? Why am I still living without a care in the world?"
"Because Our Lord had chosen you!"
"Hahaha!" Crowley burst out laughing.
Crowley reiterated, "…In any case, I’m not worthy."
She stood there listening to them talk and she understood every word they said...proof of her journey with them. Sometimes she thought that all that happened in the war was a dream.
That she never posed as a man and became a Squire and that she fought in the Holy War in the name of God...That she never watched her comrades being murdered in front of her.
But, the scar on her face and her sword skills, as well as her used to seeing the guts and blood of corpses.
She watched Crowley though most of his conversation with Gilbert, he had pain in his eyes with some of Gilbert's words.
Somehow, she understood a little of how Crowley of feeling, or at least, an idea of how he felt."Crowley-sama." Gilbert called out to him again, and Crowley raised his head to say, "I need to go."
"Crowley-sama. I shall be coming here every day until you say yes."
"That’s a royal bother."
"I will pull you back to the center stage, sir, the same way you saved me back in that war."
Ignoring him, Crowley walked away.
Gilbert sighed and turned his attention to the young lady who remained silent the whole time.
"My apologies." He said. "No worries." She replied with a smile.
When she lifted her face a bit to speak to him, Gilbert looked surprised. As he went to say something, he stopped himself. "...Good day to you...miss." He lowered his head and left.
"..."
("Shit...He recognized me, didn't he?... Gilbert...")
She turned and followed Crowley, who went into his house.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Crowley’s house, remade into the training school, was always clean, because once a week, a maidservant came and took care of chores and cleaning.
To begin with, it wasn’t in Crowley’s nature to leave messes after himself. As to the things to do, he took strolls, read and did some necessary sword training as to not grow rusty. His meals were provided by his neighbors. Soon after he had started living here, he caught 3 burglars that tried to break into the house 3 doors down from his own, and ever since that incident, his neighbors, understanding the tribulations of a man living all alone, took turns preparing meals for him. That is, he was served domestic meals in exchange for this kind of protection.
Seated at the dining table, Crowley mulled over what happened today. Over what Gilbert said. Over his intention to recommend Crowley as a candidate for the post of the Master.
"What are you going to do? You don't want it, do you?" She stated, leaning against the empty doorway to what would be the kitchen where Crowley sat. Her expression was...sad, ...for him.
“…”
"...Sorry. I didn't mean to leave you there like that. With Gilbert, I mean."
"I'm sure he must have recognized me but, I am not worried that he will say something about it. After all. I don't look that different aside from my clothing, the scar doesn't help either. "
She walked over and joined Crowley at the table, sitting in the other empty chair across from him.
"You said I can't call you Cecil, anymore. And come to think of it, I never thought about it not being your real name."
"Hmm?"
"So what is your real name?"
"...It is, no...I am Cecelia Basset, a pleasure to properly meet you, Sir Crowley." She lightly bows her head. "Cecelia? Cecel. Cecil. Ah, so that is how you got your name. Haha, did you come up with it on the spot? You simply used the first part of your name. How unoriginal, hahaha."
Crowley couldn't help but laugh at her.
"Hmph! A matter of fact I did! When one of the knights ask my name, I already looked like a boy, but when I went to say my name I had stopped myself from saying it midway. So it simply became, Cecil. The last name Emard, was taken from my father's old friend, who was like an uncle to me."
"I see."
"..."
Crowley started at the cold stew and bread left for him on the simple dining table. It was lunchtime, yet, strangely enough, he had no appetite. Perhaps because he dozed off earlier when he really shouldn’t have had. But if he didn’t finish all of the food, the neighboring matron who prepared it would surely get angry with him.
"Are you not going to eat? You have been staring at the bowl, but have yet to take a single bite." Cecelia tilted her head ever so slightly with a worried look.
"I heard that your neighbors make your meals, they will be sad if you don't eat them. Unless they are bad at cooking..."
"Yeah, I should eat then."
He just took the bread in hand, when an energetic boyish voice shouted his name in the yard, "Crowley-sama!"
Crowley and Cecelia shifted their eyes to the source of the voice.
"I’m coming in, Crowley-sama!"
"You are popular today," Cecelia remarks, resting her cheek on her fist.
With that, the source made it through the door, not waiting for his permission.
It was a cheerful boy of about 15. His stature was small and completely unfit for a knight, but he wore a long light brown robe with a red cross on his chest.
He was Jose, a squire.
"Crowley-sama! Thank you for supervising today’s morning practice sessions!"
In reply to that, Crowley informed him, "Sorry, Jose, not sharing my lunch with you."
"I never expected you to, sir, that’s why I have already eaten mine become coming here!"
"And I distinctly remember telling you not to come here anymore.”
"Well, I cannot do that, sir. My orders state that I am to follow and serve you, Crowley-sama!"
Jose noticed Cecelia sitting across from Crowley, "Oh, hello there! Are you Crowley-sama's maidservant?" Cecelia smiled to hide her annoyance, ("The first thing he thinks is that I am a damn maid? This boy...")
"Yes. I just came to clean up any dishes or dust for Sir Crowley. I am Cecelia." She smiles cheerfully, an obvious lie, but Jose is too oblivious to doubt her words.
"It is an honor to help Crowley-sama! I thank you for looking after him!" Crowley let out an annoyed sigh and Cecelia almost laughed, this boy is too pure.
"Nothing good will come out of being by the side of someone like me." Crowley stated.
But for some reason, at that, Jose gave him a proud look. "I am absolutely sure that that is not so! Serving Crowley Eusford-sama, the hero of the Crusades, is a great honor that my humble self does not deserve!" he said with an impossibly bright and sunny smile.
Losing this round, Crowley smiled with a strained smile. “The hero, huh.”
He had already heard that earlier today and was frankly fed up with the hero talk for one day.
Meanwhile, Jose continued joyfully, "Today, too, I was asking the other surviving knights about your heroic deeds in the war that they had witnessed! Can I please tell you what they told me?"
"Of course not, do you even need to ask?"
"Please allow me!"
"No. Besides, why should I even listen to the stories about myself from you?"
"Because I thought you might have forgotten!"
"Are you even serious?"
Cecelia Look to Crowley, it was easy for her to tell he was getting tired of all this talk of the war, she did not wish to hear about those times, either.
Jose looked deadly serious. He always gave his utmost effort everything he did. Believing in God from the bottom of his heart, he found hope in the Knights Templar and revered his master, Crowley, endlessly.
Jose said, "In that case, please allow me to tell you the tale of your heroic deeds at dinner."
"Good grief, go home in the evening at least."
"Speaking of, sir, do you have any plans for the afternoon? Is there something I can help you with?"
"Nothing I would need your help with."
"Then, Crowley-sama, what exactly are you going to do in the afternoon today?"
"Hm~ I was just going to go out and check if anything is disturbing public peace.” Because it wouldn’t do to keep getting food for doing nothing. "So Jose, call it a day and go home already."
But Jose wasn’t about to, firing off with excitement plastered all over his face, "I see! Nothing less from you, Crowley-sama! They say protecting public peace is the most important job of a knight! Please allow me to accompany you!"
So he was going to tag along, huh.
Crowley sighed, "Haa"
"I will be right back, Crowley-sama!" Jose quickly left with excitement.
"Do you want to leave without him? Cecelia joked, "If I did that he may never leave my side again...Today has been quite eventful, I just wanted a peaceful day." Crowley sighed once again.
"I'm sorry. It seems I pick the wrong day to come and see you again." she gave a small smile, "Ah, no. Not you. I am really happy to see you, Cecil-lia...If it wasn't for Gilbert and Jose, today would have been the best in a long time, because of you." His words were so gentle and genuine, tears welled up in Cecelia's eyes with a small blush on her cheeks. "The day is not over yet, Crow."
They share a moment looking into each other's eyes. "Now, eat your food. Before your little squire comes back and interrupts you again." she giggles.
"Yes, Ma'am."
