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Section 4 (Instalment 4)
Word count: 1 969

Warning: Character death.

Max had managed to wrap up work for the day a little early, which meant more time for study before it was too late and his mentor sent him home to rest. He usually managed to get night shifts, but from time to time - usually at the changing point of management, or of jobs, depending - he got a few days at a time of 'normal' shifts, and that meant less time during the day for what the days had been given to, the last almost fully six years or so. Almost seven. And with the relatively - in two years or so, if everything was all in order - close trial for possibly earning his stole, every hour seemed to matter to him.

Of course, his Sensei seemed pretty certain that he had nothing to worry about. And yet, through the years, accomplishing this seemed to become important to the young man. Not just the learning. Achieving this, becoming a full wizard, like Katashi Sensei; becoming one so that his mentor would be proud of him. So that people - well, wizards, Max supposed - would see how well the Warden had done his job too. With some random boy from the streets, at that. He'd show them.

Not that he told his mentor that part of the motivation. But didn't hide that he was serious about this. Of course, he had never slacked at his learning anyway, but this was something that he'd not encountered at this scale - a test, a trial, an examination of an importance that could affect his life from then on. Not like the things he'd done that changed his life, before that - running away, or agreeing to go some place or do something. It added a tingle of fear, anxiousness perhaps, and definitely made the hours lost kind of missed.

So finishing work early was welcome. He let himself into the old man's house, as per usual, and made his way to his mentor's study, to tell him he was in and get told what the plan for today was.

There was somebody in with him, though, and they were discussing something. Which meant that possibly he shouldn't disturb them, he knew that tone of voice of his Sensei's. And he thought the other voice sounded like another Warden's, with that certain authority to it. So he used the carpet in the hallway beside the door to arrange himself on the floor - he'd managed to pick up that skill in the course of his studies, too. Comfortably, and he could sit like that long enough. He put his mind to some of the recently-learned mental exercises, practicing again, until the raised voices from the room got his attention again.

Considering the kind of things that happened in that study during Max's course of training, and the people who'd been there, and all of that, he hadn't expected to overhear anything. Hadn't planned on it at all, or he wouldn't have settled so close. The awareness that he was listening to something that he maybe wasn't supposed to hear made him somewhat uncomfortable - but his curiosity right then persuaded him it couldn't be all that bad, right? At any rate, he knew enough to be aware that if he moved, his mentor would know about it just about immediately, and that would also interrupt the discussion, and possibly that wasn't a good thing?

"I do not think it is a good idea, not right now." The familiar voice's inflection was one of irritation. And wariness, for some reason. Max frowned slightly. Weren't Wardens supposed to work together, to kind of stick together, like any other organized force defending a common cause?

"Yes, you said that before. You said that to her as well. But she is still adamant you need to do it, and now, and the Captain seems to have been persuaded in it." Max's instincts, or senses, or something, about honesty tingled a bit. Not precisely the most reliable thing when figuring out if something was real or not, to tell the truth, but there was something odd with that statement, or the tone of voice with which it was spoken, or... something.

"It could be a set-up." The apprentice's eyes really perked up at that. Set-up? Why? By whom?

"You always see such things in missions you're assigned to lately, Kubo. It's nonsense. Could it be that you don't want to do the job anymore, old man? I'm sure if you file that, you'll be relieved of the cloak and sword quickly enough."

"No! No, of course not. It is what I do, I have done all my life. My honor is committed to that. I will do it."

"You'd better. You don't have choice in the matter. You must, it's simple as that." There were those words, once again. Why did it always boil down to them, Max wondered. Was it always that people were put into situations where they didn't really have a choice? Why did it have to be like that?

"Just so, Peter-san." The words were barely audible now, and there was a pause, almost like one - or the other - of the men in the room had sighed.

"It'll be all right, Kubo. It's not that bad."

Shortly after that, the door of the study opened, and the tall, thin man walked out, frowning at the boy kneeling on the floor.

"Ah. Peter-san. This is my apprentice, Parker Max."

The youth stood up quickly - for all the stranger - yes, Warden, judging by the cloak and sword - seemed tall from the floor, he turned out to be of a hight with him, both of them looking down at their shorter host. "Max, this is Warden Anson Peter."

"Right, right." The blue eyes pierced Max for a moment, and the boy wondered if he was being looked at with the Sight, but the strange Warden didn't engage in a soulgaze. "So that's the boy, then? He's going to be trying for a stole soon?"

"Yes, in less than two years."

"Good. Good luck to him, and see you at the discussion after you're done." The 'discussion' sounded almost like it should have been 'debriefing', if other sorts of people were discussing it, Max realized. "I need to get going."

The two older men walked on in the direction of the entrance door, Max remaining upright by the study's door until his mentor returned on his own, shoulders slightly slumped. "Go in, go in. There's nothing wrong to make you wait for me."

"I thought..." Max sighed and went in, followed by the older man. "Sensei... I couldn't help but overhear some of what you talked about." That got him a sharp, reproaching look. "You said it was a set-up."

"I said I thought it might be a set-up."

"Is it?"

Small silence, then, "might be, Max-kun. But it is still something I must do."

Max frowned at the addressing appendage. His mentor didn't usually use those unless he was disturbed - or excited, approving, which was obviously not the case right then. "But why? If you think it might be not what it should be, can't you just get out of it?"

"It still needs to be done. And I have committed my honor to obeying what the Wardens must do, and that means that I do that even at a personal risk. Do you understand?"

They had covered the lessons about honor many times. Max knew very well what the older man meant, and then some, but he was still frowning. "I understand. But why would somebody want you set up? Why would your Captain fall for it?"

"It might not be anything like that." The shorter man's chin came up, and he fixed Max with a firm stare of his dark eyes. "Now. You do not listen at doors any more, not in this house, you understand?"

The apprentice winced slightly, then nodded obediently. "I understand, Sensei. I just finished early and thought I'd wait outside so you wouldn't need to go looking for me when you were done."

Small, curt nod, then a motion at one of the desks. "I have prepared your work for tonight already. See id you can work on this spell - what it means, how it can be made to work, and then try it?"

"Yes, Sensei." Max moved to stand behind the desk, then drew in a breath. "Are you sure you wouldn't want me to come with you? I could be of help, you know--"

"No. It is I who must do this alone. The spell, Max."

"Yes, Sensei."

Katashi Sensei left for that mission three days later. Neither mentor nor apprentice opened conversation about it again, as usual when the former didn't initiate discussions about one of his missions. Which didn't mean it wasn't on Max's mind. He just knew better than to ask again.

Peter Anson brought the word about his mentor's demise a week after that. Max was at his mentor's house, doing some of the homework he had been assigned - more or less, running out of it, too - when the knock on the door startled him. He blinked a few times, confused - nobody had come and knocked when his Sensei was away before - but in a bit he made his way to the front door and opened it.

The Warden was actually writing a note to probably leave at the door, but he looked up, eyes heavy, older. "Ah good. So you're here as I'd hoped, after all." The 'good' was dubious, but still mostly real. "I didn't know where to find you, otherwise, and I couldn't go hunting through the city and all."

"Katashi Sensei is not home from his mission yet." Max's voice wasn't wary, even if inside he was. Very.

"Kubo won't be coming home either." Gruff, clipped words. They hit Max like a fist in the stomach, and his eyes and mouth opened. "He succeeded in his mission, but was destroyed in the process."

"He was... killed? I do not know about any family to do funeral--"

"He had no family. You were the only person outside the Council who needed to be notified." The voice went slightly relieved, that now this was done with, too. "Look, kid. I'm sorry. He was a good man. I'm sure there'll be somebody over to take care of his things here, you might want to clear your things from the house and everything." Small pause then, "and if you need some help about that trial bit, look me up." He looked down at the paper in his hands, and handed it over. "Not that I'm looking for an apprentice, but I can answer questions and such."

Max nodded mutely, took the paper. Thanked automatically. The man left, Max closed the door. Walked back to his working place. Stared at the piece of paper. Looked around himself.

He couldn't believe it, not really.

He wanted to know what had happened, too. Maybe he'd call on the other Warden, to ask more questions, later.

He finished his work, just as he was supposed to. Started picking up his things. It went more slowly than he thought it would. He added a few books that he'd started on, and a few that his mentor had pointed out as work ahead. Not many.

He left and locked the door, putting the wards back up, leaving a note where he could be found if needed to unlock them again, just in case.

For the first time since that day when he had almost died, those years ago, he was completely on his own again.
And more than back then... he hated it.

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