Cross Conviction

The team arrived at the meeting spot and found Scharf leaning against a large oak tree at the far end of the wide grassy field. Next to his left boot sat a long black case with a black sheath stacked on top of it.

"You're late…" he groaned through gritted teeth that held a cigarette in place. 

Magnolia suddenly snatched Sturm's wrist and rolled back his sleeve to reveal his watch. Frustrated by the girl's invasion of his personal space, he immediately yanked his arm free of her grasp.

With a coy smile slipping across her lips, she replied, "Excuse me, captain, we're on time…"

"Which is why you're late," Scharf started, dropping his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out, "While you were 'on time', the enemy was early. You're all dead."

The three candidates glanced back and forth between each other. Visibly confused, they said nothing. Scharf exhaled sharply through his nostrils, his disdain obvious. He then placed his foot atop the case next to him and used his boot to drag it forward, before kicking it across the ground toward the cadets. Still, the group took no immediate action.

"Get your things and get ready to fight," Scharf instructed with an annoyed wave of his hand.

Magnolia's eyes lit up in surprise. "A fight? Already?" she inquired, "But we haven't even settled in, sir."

"The enemy doesn't care if you have settled in," Scharf snapped back through a stiff jaw, steadying a fresh cigarette to be lit by his single hand.

Accepting that she would be unable to get a rise out of her captain, Magnolia rolled her eyes and slinked over to the case. Sturm, close behind, stepped up to retrieve his sheathed blade before attaching it to his belt with a pair of metal clasps. 

"Now then, it would seem you have at least one thing in common with the Hurricane..." Magnolia teased.

She then knelt down, unlocked the black case, and flipped open the lid to reveal a lavish mahogany violin adorned with intricate French curves. Next to the instrument was a razor-sharp bow that gleamed in the sunlight. 

Magnolia smiled as she retrieved the two items and rose to her feet. "Illustrious, is it not?"

Eyeing the violin, Sturm struggled to predict what the girl's special gift could possibly be. In fact, until this point, he hadn't given it much thought at all. Everything about Magnolia exuded fragility. She invoked the image of a show poodle, hardly the poster child for a world-class super-soldier in the making. Still, if she had been admitted to the academy, she must have had notable talent. What formidable power could require the use of a musical instrument? That was left to be seen.

Magnolia dragged the bow across the violin's strings, letting out a sickening screech, giggling as her allies cringed. "What's the matter, you don't think I'm talented?" she prodded.

"Knock it off," said Scharf, lighting his cigarette and returning the lighter to his pocket. "Get to the five-meter line, Wald."

The training field was a large, rectangular arena marked with ten white lines on either side; each denoting five meters, for a total of 100 meters. At the center, between each five-meter line was a circle three meters in diameter. One hand awkwardly clutching both the neck of her violin and the bow together, Magnolia gave a passive-aggressive curtsey before taking her place at the designated line.

"Is she always like this?" Alvarez inquired.

Sturm groaned and stretched his arms behind his neck. "I really hope not."

"Alvarez, take the opposite side," Scharf commanded.

Immediately, Alvarez obeyed. He made his way past Magnolia and faced her at the opposing five-meter line. 

"Excuse me, what is this?" Magnolia spoke up, "I was under the impression I would be fighting Sturm. This foreigner isn't even armed."

Eyebrow raised, Alvarez replied simply, "And you are?"

A self-assured smirk fell over Magnolia's rose-tinted lips. "Indeed, I am. Quite dangerously so."

Sturm stepped off of the field and sat on the ground next to Scharf's boot.  Down here, he would be free from the pungent cigarette smoke that swirled above his head. Though his mind had been preoccupied with other subjects until now, the thought of seeing two other knight candidates in combat excited Sturm. If these two were to be his comrades, it would be in the boy's best interest to understand their strengths and weaknesses to the best of his ability.

"First to hit the ground or suffer a technical fatality loses," Scharf said aloud from the sidelines. 

"Technical fatality?" Magnolia tilted her head, puzzled.

Sturm too was unfamiliar with this term.

"A technical fatality occurs when a person is placed in a situation that would result in their death, should it have occurred in a real combat scenario," explained Alvarez.

Magnolia dragged the bow across her violin's chords once more with an ominous scratch. "Is that so?"

"Enough wasting time," said the captain, "The battle starts now."

Startled by the match's sudden commencement, Magnolia swiftly positioned her violin under her jaw, leaned on her hip, and ran her bow across the instrument. The melody started out light and unassuming but swiftly devolved into a bizarre pulsing patchwork of varying volumes and progressions. To Sturm, looking on from the sidelines, it was clear that there was something nefarious about the warped tune that seemed to pluck at the very chords of his psyche. Though initially unfazed, the twisted song soon began to have an obvious effect on Alvarez, who swayed slightly against the weight of his own body. His dull, unfocused stare made it apparent that some form of sound-induced hypnosis was at play. Picking up on this, Magnolia grinned menacingly before quickly closing the distance between them, kicking up grass in the process, and readying a strike of her bow, in one fluid motion.

Self-satisfaction oozing from her wide, arrogant smile, Magnolia taunted, "A tragedy that you'll be retiring from the academy so soon!"

However, just before the sharp edge of the blade-like bow was brought down on the boy's throat, a tiny orange face, adorned with large, black eyes, emerged from his collar. The glistening creature inflated its throat and let out a vibrating, high-pitched chirp. Immediately, Alvarez's eyes snapped to Magnolia’s, and he blocked her weapon with one raised forearm. 

"What?!"  cried Magnolia.

Capitalizing on her surprise, Alvarez grasped the violin bow and swiftly disarmed the girl. He then took her back and seized her around the neck, causing her to drop her wooden instrument in a panic. Eyes closed, she thrashed frantically for a moment before attempting to smash Alvarez's nose with the back of her head. Unfortunately for Magnolia, she was far too short and was unable to do any real damage from her precarious position. Despite this, the defiant girl continued to struggle viciously until she felt the icy touch of metal gently press into her jugular. Shocked, she froze. Alvarez had disabled Magnolia with her own violin bow.

"Y-you-" she growled before being cut off by Alvarez.

"Keep your mouth shut and don't move," he snapped, releasing her from the tight hold and pointing toward the bow which still rested against her throat.

Though she kept her body perfectly still, Magnolia glanced down from the corner of her eye to see a small, bright orange frog waiting patiently atop the violin bow.

"Elimination via technical fatality," announced  Scharf, a hint of disappointment apparent in his voice. 

Magnolia froze immediately. Sturm, still silent, shifted his attention to Scharf with intrigue. 

"You can't be serious..." Magnolia hissed, "I could have kept fighting!"

Shaking his head in disagreement, Alvarez began to elaborate on the captain's decision. "If your own blade against your neck wasn't enough to convince you that you lost, the frog that was about to shut down your nerve function should be."

Satisfied with the result, Alvarez beckoned his frog back to his sleeve and released his defeated opponent, who immediately jerked herself away. 

"The... what?" the girl replied, cheeks boiling red as her eyes widened.

"Phyllobates terribilis." Alvarez explained, "The golden poison frog. It's the most toxic animal in the world. If he so much as touched your lips or your eye, you'd be dead in minutes."

"That's asinine!" Magnolia protested, lunging to retrieve her violin bow.

Alvarez sidestepped the girl and held the bow out of her reach. He then removed a rag, dampened with an unknown substance, from inside of his overcoat and rubbed it along the bow's length.

Furious, Magnolia snatched the rod away from her teammate. "And just what do you think you're doing to my property?!"

"Neutralizing the poison so you don't kill yourself," he retorted calmly.

Magnolia gasped and held the bow by its tip with her thumb and index finger, making as little contact with the tool as possible.

"Relax..." said Alvarez, "It's fine now. That solution breaks down the alkaline toxin secreted from the frog's skin."

By this point, the girl was as red as a tomato. "I do not understand a word coming out of your mouth, nor do I care to! If I die, my father will-"

"Quiet," interjected the captain, his one cold eye glaring down at Magnolia, "the dead don't speak."

Jaw agape, Magnolia was barely able to contain her rage. Noticing that she was about to blow and preferring to avoid such an incident, Sturm jumped up to his feet and placed his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"That was really impressive, Magnolia. I've never seen anything like it," said Sturm. 

In reality, Sturm still wasn't certain what Magnolia had done during the match or what the ultimate aim of her bizarre violin sonata actually was but figured it would be in his best interest to stroke her suffocating ego.  

"Well," the girl huffed, quickly turning her face away from her peers, "At least someone here has an appreciation for the arts."

Aggressive and pompous as she was, Magnolia likely realized that it wasn't in her best interest to talk back to her superior. Sturm had given her an out and she didn't hesitate to capitalize on it.

"Now I'd very much like it if you remove that dirty glove from my person, at once," she followed up.

Sturm swiftly obliged.

"Alright, get back to your rooms. We're done for the day. Training starts tomorrow." Scharf said with a wave of his hand. 

Sturm looked puzzled as he attached the scabbard to his belt.

"Captain Scharf, aren't I going to practice against someone?" he inquired in confusion.

"Why?" replied Scharf "You're Leopold's kid. It would be a waste of time, right?"

The others took their captain's comment at face value, but Sturm felt the venom in his words. Scharf wasn't being genuine. His tone and inflection told the boy exactly what his instructor saw in him; a disappointment, not even worth giving the time to display his abilities. Disheartened by this, Sturm exhaled and placed his hands in his pockets before looking down at the grass.

Soon, as instructed, the group parted with their captain and made their way to their respective rooms. After a few hours of organizing their belongings and exploring the academy grounds, the three had a light supper at the mess hall and decided to retire for the night.

Sturm sat on the lower bunk of the bed placed against the right wall and looked up at Alvarez, who was perched atop the upper bunk of the bed on the opposite wall. 

"So Alvarez…" Sturm spoke up, "You're not German, are you?"

The boy shifted his focus from the small orange frog hanging off of his fingertips downward to Sturm.

"Half," he explained, "My mother was German. She moved to Argentina with her family when she was a girl and met my dad there."

"But you live here now?" asked Sturm.

Alvarez nodded. "My mom 'heard the Führer's call' for all Germans to come home, or whatever."

Sturm leaned back on the bed.

Sturm crossed his arms behind his head. "You don't sound thrilled about that."  

Alvarez shrugged. 

"I got used to the looks and groans. It could be worse. I just miss my dad is all. He's not German so it's not as easy for him to join us here," explained sadly.

Sturm looked up at the underside of the bunk above him. That much was relatable, at least. He hadn't seen his father in the better part of a month and had hoped he'd be present for his admission to the academy. On top of that, he now had inquiries about Scharf that only his father could answer; namely why he had never mentioned his former teammate.

"So… what's your first name, Alvarez?" Sturm spoke up, shaking the trailing thoughts from his head.

"Gustavo, and you?" the boy replied.

Sturm smiled. "Arthur. But to be honest, I'm used to being called by my last name."

Gustavo hopped down from his bunk and walked to the dresser leaning against the adjacent wall. 

"Sturm it is, then," he said as he let three small orange frogs leap onto a plate atop the dresser, "Honestly, it makes me feel like I'll be a part of history, being teamed up with the Hurricane's son and all."

Sturm shifted his gaze toward the wall and spoke softly. "Yeah… if you say so."

Suddenly, the door connecting the rooms flew open and Magnolia stepped in. Gustavo turned toward her and raised an eyebrow as Sturm sat back up. The girl came over to Sturm's bed and settled down next to him. 

"So," she started, "I was reading one of the policy books in my desk drawer, and it says our team is supposed to have four members."

"And?" replied Gustavo, "It does, counting the captain."

Magnolia rolled her eyes. "How perceptive of you. I meant aside from the old cripple."

Sturm crossed his arms and closed his eyes in thought. His teammate was correct. As far as he was aware, Iron Knight teams had operated as five-man units since the end of the Great War. Thinking back to the mess hall, it did seem as if the other teams were larger than theirs. Was there a reason for this?

"Well," started Gustavo, "maybe they were one candidate short because that girl never showed up."

Magnolia's face lit up with validation, "That's exactly what I was thinking!"

Listening in, Sturm thought it better not to add any more fuel for speculation. Still, one fact harassed his train of thought. He was certain that Major Krieger had mentioned that the teams were hand-selected by their captains. If so, that meant the missing girl must have been one of Scharf's chosen candidates. Sturm wasn't sure what, if any significance this detail held, but something about it gave him a deeply ominous feeling.

"The whole thing just doesn't sit well with me. I would expect the captain to inform us if there was a reason we were undermanned, would you not?" Magnolia continued.

Just then, one of Gustavo's frogs then began to call. Each inflation of its throat was accompanied by a shrill chirp. In response, Gustavo got up, walked to the coat hanger, and removed a vial from his coat pocket. He then shook a small insect out of the container into his palm before taking it between two fingers and returning to his frogs. 

"I know, guys. It's been a long day," Gustavo said softly. 

Magnolia crossed her arms. "Are you talking to those things?" she asked, annoyed. 

"Of course," he answered without looking back in her direction.

One of the frogs then puffed up and began to vibrate as another swallowed the insect. 

"It's okay. She lost a sparring match today so she's a little cranky," Gustavo seemed to answer the frog.

Magnolia raised an eyebrow, her expression unamused. 

"Okay, I've seen enough," she sighed as she stood up from the bed and walked toward the connecting door. 

After turning the doorknob, she passed and looked back over her shoulder toward Sturm, apparently waiting for something. 

Confused, he asked, "What is it?"

Magnolia scratched at the doorframe with ruby nails and glared at him.

"Goodnight, turkey," she said.

Sturm's eyes narrowed with aggravation.

"Uh… good night," he replied. 

Magnolia then turned her nose up, scoffed, and returned to her room, swiftly closing the door behind her. Perhaps she was still angry over the earlier incident with Whirlwind. For such an expressive and eccentric individual, Sturm found the girl a complete enigma. As a team member, he was curious to know her background and motivations. However, for as comfortable as she seemed to be invading his personal space, she was anything but approachable. 

"I think she likes you," Gustavo said sarcastically. 

"Somehow I doubt that," Sturm groaned before getting out of bed to change into his pajamas.