Cross Conviction

Vogel glanced up from the documents lining his desk to the boy across from him. "So Mr. Allemann, the captain here says you have some very unique abilities."

Max's face lit up. "Calciomancy… sir," he replied eagerly, almost forgetting to address his superior properly.

"Hmm…" the general hummed, flipping back and forth between papers, apparently deep in thought, "Calciomancy… very potent indeed."

Scharf stood next to Krieger in the corner of the office, both of them silently observing.

"You know, we could use a knight around here with the powers of… calciomancy." the general continued, a slight uncertainty slipping into his voice. 

Max picked up on his tone and became slightly nervous. "Um… y-yes sir, it can be quite useful in combat."

"I see…" Vogel murmured, "So then… what exactly is calciomancy again?"

Krieger dropped his head, hiding the secondhand embarrassment in his eyes. Across the table, Max was stunned. 

He can't be serious... What's wrong with this old man? Max thought to himself.

"Well sir, I can, uh... conjure-"

"He secretes calcium from his skin and can create weapons from it," Scharf spoke up, cutting Max off. 

"Oho!" the general hollered, clearly intrigued, "Interesting! The captain also reports that you were almost as fast as our Arthur Sturm! Very impressive!"

Max blinked, turning to Scharf, who didn't meet his eye contact. "Almost?" the boy inquired, annoyedly. Remembering his predicament, Max snapped back to attention and quickly brushed away the hint of jealousy in his voice. "R-right sir, that's correct." 

"Most impressive…" Vogel spoke quietly.

Max nervously shifted his posture, the excitement of potentially having a shot at realizing his dream starting to sink in.

"And your blood is blue!" the general suddenly exclaimed. 

An awkward smile crossed Max's face. Despite the commandant being anything but threatening, he still felt uneasy. He was a Jew, after all, and Jews were forbidden from entering the academy. Sticking to the shadows in the streets was one thing- out of sight and out of mind. It was another to walk into a school he was explicitly banned from attending and attempt to slip through the cracks. Were he discovered, prison would surely await him. Given the precarious situation faced by criminal exceptionals, the outcome could be worse.

Back at their dorm room, Sturm leaned against the door while Gustavo tended to his frogs. Magnolia entered the room through the connecting door and sat down on Sturm’s bed.

"As if having a foreigner wasn't bad enough, now we're getting a Jew thrown onto our team," she groaned, leaning back. 

"You know we're not supposed to talk about that, Magnolia," Gustavo snapped back. 

Magnolia scoffed and stamped her foot on the floor.

"Of course, the foreigner would take his side," she hissed before turning to Sturm, "You get where I'm coming from, right?"

Holding his cap in his hands, Sturm ran his fingers across the split in its visor. "He's very capable, Magnolia. After fighting him, I'd feel better having him watch my back."

After letting out a slight growl, Magnolia laid back and closed her eyes. 

Gustavo walked over and tapped on the bedframe. "I'm serious. Don't go talking about Max being Jewish. You're going to get the captain in trouble, too."

Magnolia opened one eye just enough to shoot him a wicked glare. "Don't tell me what to do."

"Come on…" Sturm spoke up, "Just give him a chance. If there's a problem, we'll deal with it then, okay?"

"Fine," pouted Magnolia, "but I refuse to put my trust in someone like him."

Gustavo shook his head. Sarcastically, he said, "I'm sure he'll be broken up over that."

With that, there was a knock at the door. Sturm stepped back and opened it to find Max standing in the doorway, dressed in the same grey uniform as the rest of the team.

"What do you think?" Max asked, tugging on the collar of his jacket before turning to face the mirror, "Do I look good or what?"

He singled out Magnolia with a smile, who returned an unamused frown. She had quickly picked up on Max's hints of infatuation in their earlier encounters and had no interest in entertaining them. Realizing that he was likely making a fool out of himself, Max cleared his throat and pretended to scratch his nose, obscuring his blue-tinted cheeks as well as he could without doing anything that might come across as unnatural.

"Well then, I'm starving. The captain said you guys would treat me to lunch?" Max inquired with a large grin.

Gustavo sighed. "Of course he did…"

Angered, Magnolia abruptly stood up and walked to the connecting door. "A lovely thought, but I simply refuse to get in the way of boys' day out on the town." she scoffed before slamming the door behind her.

"Honestly, I'm not really hungry, either," added Gustavo, "But if you're stopping at a restaurant, could you ask if they have spring water for my friends here?"

Sturm replied with a nod and Gustavo tossed him a canteen. Snatching it out of the air, Sturm quickly looked it over before attaching it to his belt. 

With a chuckle, Max exclaimed, "And then there were two!"

"It's alright, we'll catch up with them after lunch. We still have training today, and Magnolia never misses supper," Sturm replied with a slight smile. 

With that, the two boys headed through the door and made their way down the hall and outside the building, Max occasionally stopping to sight-see across the academy grounds.

Sturm and Max sat across from each other at the open-air café overlooking the Spree, where they had met the day prior. The place was teaming with foot traffic, both soldier and civilian alike taking advantage of their free time to eat and shop. Running his index finger across the menu, Max led his eyes from dish to dish. 

"Having trouble? Magnolia likes the shrimp." Sturm suggested.

Max looked up and awkwardly tugged at his collar. "No thanks, I can't really eat shellfish."

"Allergic?" Sturm inquired. 

"Nah, it's not that..." Max paused, clearly uncomfortable. Tapping his finger on the countertop, he leaned in and explained quietly, "It's something I can't say in public, ya know?"

"I see," Sturm replied.

Soon the waitress arrived at the table with a notebook in her hand. 

With a smile, she asked, "What will you boys be having today?"

"I'd like to try the sausage," Sturm answered politely, yet somewhat coldly. 

"And I'll have um…"

Max spoke quickly after Sturm but hadn't actually made up his mind, yet. The waitress, seeing the indecision in his face, made a suggestion herself. "Maybe I could interest you pretzel?"

Max's eyes lit up in delight. "Oh, sure! And maybe some lemonade, too?"

"You got it, sweetie. Anything for the brave knights who keep us all safe," she said with a wink.

Max's face flushed blue and he grabbed at his jacket, looking down at it as the waitress walked away

"Did you see that, Sturm?!" Max whispered excitedly, kicking Sturm’s shin to get his attention, "She totally winked at me!"

Sturm, clearly uninterested, immediately changed the subject. "So, your blood is blue. Does that have something to do with your calcium powers?" 

Max shrugged. "I don't know, I was born this way," he said as he turned to watch the waitress walk back into the kitchen.

"It doesn't seem like you think about it very much," Sturm replied.

"Well, I mean… I don't," Max chuckled, "I'm an exceptional. I was born to be a hero and that's all that matters!"

Sturm leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Maybe… but sometimes understanding the nature of your abilities can be helpful when it comes to improving them," he explained.

Max's focus shifted back to Sturm. "Damn, aren't you the wise one?" Max scoffed through a cocky grin, "But as far as I know, the best way to get stronger is just to train and keep kicking ass."

Sturm raised an eyebrow but said nothing. It was clear that Max had his own perspective in regards to personal growth and wasn't keen on changing it. It was unlikely that he'd be persuaded so easily. Regardless, he'd have to sit through the same classes as the rest of the team, so perhaps there was a chance that the academic portion of their training would change his mind. After some time, the waitress returned with their meals. As Sturm hadn't ordered a drink, she placed a glass and a pitcher of ice water down next to his plate. Seeing this, Sturm remembered Gustavo's request.

"Is this spring water, ma'am?" Sturm inquired.

Smiling, she answered cheerfully, "Why, yes it is!"

Sturm thanked her and, after asking if the two had any other requests, the waitress returned through the door into the kitchen. 

"So…" mumbled Max between bites of his giant soft pretzel, "That captain of ours is a scary guy, huh? What's his deal?"

After carefully cutting the sausage, chewing, and swallowing, Sturm cleared his throat. "To be honest, I don't really know. We haven't known him long," he explained, "But I know he served on Wyvern Team with my dad during the Great War."

Max waved his hand, expressing disbelief as he took another large bite. "No way," he mumbled through a full mouth, "I've read all about the Hurricane and never saw anything about him."

Sturm continued eating for a moment before answering. "I had the same thought. My dad never mentioned him, at least not that I remember."

"Oooh… a mystery. Wonder how he lost his eye?" Max inquired, full of intrigue.

"Well, he's a knight. Lots of knights lose an eye," replied Sturm matter-of-factly, "They say it's because an exceptional's eye is the only place you know for sure you can hurt them."

Max tossed another piece of pretzel into his mouth. "True… what about his hand, though?"

Sturm paused at the question. He had been curious himself but thought better of asking the captain. He was intimidating enough to approach under positive circumstances. Whatever story was behind his dismemberment was likely not something he'd be enthusiastic to share.