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Flickering red lights carved the outline of a crowd out of the night’s darkness, as Labyrinthians were about to witness the most significant trial in their history. The great witch Bezella was to be put to flames for all the terrors she’s caused. The stares of countless observers were all aimed at the poor soul who had to somehow defend the greatest villain this city had known. Being out under the open skies did nothing to ease how stifling those stares were, how hard it was to breathe surrounded by flaming torches.
Just outside the city walls though, the atmosphere was completely different. Up on the highest levels of the Storytellers tower, the cold moon light trickled down through the stained glass into his study, gently painting the scene in colorful patches. Dust rose, danced and flickered and shifted colors moving between those rays, it’s beauty unnoticed, as Luke and Layton methodically dug through everything the Storyteller left behind.
Somewhere in this mess lied the true key to Espella’s freedom, but uncovering it required a lot of meticulous work. Children’s books, family photos, company records, personal notes, trinkets, pages and pages of contracts… Small bits of the real story lied scattered in unconnected threads and there was no way of streamlining finding and tying them all together. All Layton could do is search the whole room floor to ceiling, keeping every small detail he learns in mind, holding on to each thread as personal lives of this family start tying into the government conspiracy, company disputes, creative writing and it goes on and on. Luckily anything that slips by the professor, Luke is there to point out. The real story that’s shaping itself out of those clues is far more bewildering than anything manufactured labyrinthian lore had to offer, it might have been too much for one person to process at once, but Layton was willing to push himself as the circumstances demanded. Reading the Storyteller's notes, while at the back of his mind trying to fit the loose threads of this tale together, so many small bits of information that if he lost focus for a second all those threats would slip right through his fingers and their ends would get lost in one messy knot. That’s why when Luke spoke up, Layton responded almost purely on instinct, all of his attention still on the current task
— Professor, would it be alright if I stepped back out into the garden for a few minutes?
— Yes. But be very careful. If you suspect anyone might be out there call to me immediately, or run back in.
— Sure thing.
And just like that Layton was left alone. It took a moment for his mind to work through the backlog of information and actually process the exchange. Something was off in the way Luke spoke, his voice seemed shaky. Why did he need to run off anyway? Before Layton knew it he was hurrying out of the study and down into Espella’s room, leaving his whole thought process behind, nearly running out the door, but there for a brief second he slowed down and called out for Luke. The professor weighed in his mind the idea that the kid just needed a moment alone undisturbed. But no response came after some time and that was sufficient enough cause to pick up the pace again.
It took a second for Layton’s eyes to adjust to the darkness outside, thankfully as soon as his surroundings came into view the man spotted his apprentice. Luke was leaning over the side of a fountain tucked away in the corner of the garden. Quickly walking towards him Layton could see that the kid was splashing water on his face.
— Luke! We don’t know how clean the water here is. Having it be anywhere near your face might be a bad idea.
Layton made sure to speak loudly enough to be heard over the splashing water, and as he reached Luke he gently pulled him away by his shoulder, hoping not to startle him.
— No, don’t rub your eyes with your hands either. Here, have my handkerchief. I’ll get our water flask so you could rinse your face.
The professor hasn’t gotten to the bottom of that’s wrong with Labyrinthian water yet, but at this moment his concern was more with old and rusty fountain pipes or algy or bacteria or any issues that might come up with an old nearly abandoned garden.
— I’m sorry professor, this seemed like fastest way to gather my thoughts.
Luke struggled to move his wet hair out of the way, but in the end managed to look up at the professor. And just like that the mystery of why he ran off was solved, as the puffy eyes and quivering lip told the professor all he needed to know.
— Was it something in Espella’s story that struck a cord with you, my boy? - he already had a few guesses, but wanted to let Luke speak for himself. - I did say you could talk to me if anything was bothering you.
— I … I can’t really tell, professor. As far as I’m aware the tears just… Started on their own.
Professor’s eyes softened, though it’s not as if Luke could tell with his vision all blurry. Layton sat down on the side of the fountain, and his apprentice followed, knowing this meant they were about to have a talk. Layton motionned with his hand for Luke to scoot over to the side a bit, seeing as he sat down right there water that just ran off his face pooled. On quieter moments like there Layton felt especially glad that they’ve been travelling together long enough to understand each other with little words. Perhaps a few years ago he would have to put a noticeable amount of effort into getting the kid to admit he’s been crying, and then convincing him to talk about it. But as things are now Layton knows that Luke knows that Layton always knows. That’s why Layton believed it right away when Luke said the tears were spontaneous. And it’s not like he himself hasn’t been in the same situation before. It was just a shame that a kid has to know what that’s like at his age.
— You’ve had a very intense couple of days, my boy, and not a lot of time to sit with all those emotions. Sooner or later they simply find a way out on their own.
— That’s the problem, though! I don’t think I’m feeling any of those emotions, it’s just tears and not much else. - the kid wiped a few more stubborn tears off his cheeks. - It would have been easier to stop them if I knew what feelings I’m supposed to get over in the first place.
— Our minds connect to our bodies in ways that bypass the conscious sometimes. Your thoughts may have been moving at their normal pace this whole time, but between the courts and the investigations and the running from guards a lot of stress must have been accumulated, but put to the side to allow you to keep moving. And once the tension eased up even a little bit, that’s when your system decided it’s safe enough to start working through all that.
Layton took up his usual “teacher” tone, although currently he was just trying to find a way to convey how this sort of delayed response felt to him. He had nothing to back his conclusions up, but as long as gives the kid some peace of mind it should do for now.
— …And when is it supposed to stop?
— Whenever you’ve worked through all that saved up worrying ideally. My guess is it will just stop on it’s own at some point, but it’s better if we just sit here for a while and take it easy.
— But that’s the worst time to have to wait something out! We have to get back and help Espella! - Luke raised his voice to nearly a shout, startling even himself. Echo rolled through the garden, causing both travelers to look around cautiously. Luckily it seemed like no one was there to hear them.
— It is unfortunate, yes, but our job right now is to get ready for the final confrontation. Everything must be in place for a flawless rescue, because this time we have a huge audience, and having the people of Labytrinthia on our side is our only chance at breaking the spell that cages this place. Getting everything ready does mostly mean uncovering the truth, but making sure we’re both in our best shape for this is also an unavoidable part of it. I can’t do this without your help, and that means spending some time winding down is a worthwhile investment. Besides, I trust mr. Wright and ms. Fey to handle the situation, they’re proven to be very reliable people, especially when dealing with situations that are particularly bizarre and high stakes. Wouldn’t you agree?
— I suppose so… - Luke still looked a bit unsure, and kept fidgeting with the handkerchief the professor gave him. But he moved a bit to sit more comfortably, as he’s been on the very edge of the fountain this whole time.
— That’s more like it. Now drink some water if we have any left and try to let your thoughts slow down. A gentleman wouldn’t want to show up in court with a runny nose.
Layton’s teasing seemed to have landed poorly. Luke lowered his cap over his eyes and turned away. The professor couldn’t quite read the intention here, it looked like the kid was trying to hide his tears, which seemed counterproductive at this point. And regardless he’s not said anything out of the ordinary, relative to how he usually speaks of course. And yet seemingly he’s managed to make Luke cry while he was already crying as is. Finally after a moment of silent confusion Luke turned back, still not meeting the professor’s eyes. In an unsure motion the kid grabbed onto the professor’s sleeve, and began speaking, his head hung low still.
— Professor, I don’t know if I could ever call myself a gentleman. Or even a good person.
Stunned by the abrupt heaviness of this statement, Layton let the silence linger a bit more as he puzzled out the best way to approach this issue. But Luke seemingly took the silence for a type of response in and off itself.
— I don’t know how much mr. Wright told you about ms. Maya’s trial. But the truth is I’ve said some terrible things about her. … The kind of things that might have gotten her killed if it wasn’t for mr. Wright.
Once again Layton found himself disarmed. What do you say to a child in these circumstances? As far as the professor knew Phoenix did not sugarcoat it when talking about the court events, so he was aware of Luke’s hand in both obstructing and aiding Maya’s rescue. But he was hoping to save discussing the events for a much later, calmer time. Obviously Luke needed his support now, and he couldn’t keep leaving the kid with no reply, lest guilt fills those silent gaps for him.
— Have you spoken to ms. Fey herself?
— …I’ve talked with her. She said it wasn’t a big deal, and something about it not being her first time.
— Ms. Fey is a very positive person. It seems like she’s being genuine in not holding it against you.
— Of course, yes!.. It’s somehow worse this way though. I almost wish she got mad at me. Maybe she thinks I’m too young to understand what I was doing? I feel like it’s only right she’d know that I was fully aware of how much weight the guilty verdict carried. I knew what happens to witches, we all saw it. Even if it was a trick, back then I thought it would be the end for anyone who lost in court. But I didn’t want ms. Maya dead, really! I just… I was so angry. Nothing felt right besides being more angry. And because I thought it was a personal betrayal, in my head I had this image of all the horrible truth coming to light and justifying just how mad I was. But this grand reveal and act of justice was the entire goal, not what the punishment would actually achieve. In my head the idea of winning this trial and the idea that the punished will die both existed, but separately. I’m sure if I sat down and ran the events through my head I would have been repulsed by the idea of sending someone to their doom. But I didn’t want to think this through. I wanted to be angry. And that’s just terrible isn’t it, professor?.. And what’s worse I should have known better! When mom was kidnapped I was just as mad. I know that I was wrong and I said so many hurtful things to my dad and sometimes I feel like he’s still upset about it. How could I have learned nothing from that? I can’t do anything about it but be more mad but at myself this time.
Heavy, bitter tears rolled down Luke’s cheeks, as he gripped the edge of the fountain, his fingers white from trying to dig into the hard stone. With a shaky sob he wiped his face with his sleeve despite the handkerchief still being in his hand. All those thoughts must have been swarming his mind, evolving and multiplying ever since the ill fated trial. It felt cruel not to comfort the child. Perhaps place a hand gently on his shoulder, tell him it’s part of growing up and he just doesn’t have a grasp on what’s rational or emotional like an adult would. Layton knew that’s not what Luke wanted at the moment. He wouldn’t listen to soft affirmations, even if they were closer to the truth than actual judgement. He'd reject the idea of let off the hook because nobody will take a child seriously. Trying to pick the right words, the professor kept rummaging through his mind, creating a jumbled mess of what he could say as a teacher, and what he would as a friend. He took a deep breath and tried his best either way.
— You’re still friends with Arianna, right?
— Huh? - Luke froze at the unexpected change of subject, which seemed to at least bring him back to reality a bit, even though that wasn’t really the professor’s intention. - Of course I am. We send each other letters every other week. Why?
— She did say very cruel things to you at some point if I recall correctly. The kind most friendships couldn’t withstand.
— She just lost her dad back then! Of course she’d- … I can see what you’re trying to tell me professor, but that’s not the same thing at all! Telling me to get lost would not have harmed me in any way. It’s not that hard to forgive.
— What I’m trying to say, Luke, is that you’ve seen how grief changes one’s perception. Being cruel in a moment of despair doesn’t permanently turn someone into a cruel person. And I doubt that at any point you’ve spent time considering if Arianna is worthy of your friendship. It’s just that you’ve wanted to be friends with her, and thus chose to do so. Same way I chose to be friends with Randall again. Do you think I am naive for doing so? - Layton cringed a bit, as the last question came out sounding just the slightest bit too sincere for his usual teacherly tone.
— … I..? No, I think you’re just a kind person, professor.
— I truly wanted my friend back. And we both put in a lot of work to achieve that. But none of it involved me ignoring the harm done to my friends and others. I am fully aware that even when being deceived, Randall was the one who took the information he had and chose to act in spiteful, dangerous ways. He was guided by grief and anger, and those being temporary does not change the permanent damage he’s done. He is a passionate, expressive person, and even now, same as before, he has the potential of routing that passion towards destructive things.
Luke was shaking, doing all he could to stifle the sobbing, listening to the professor, fully aware of whom he was really talking about. He felt like every parallel drawn between him and someone he’d rather not think about could physically cut through him. It felt cruel. But fair. At least from Luke’s perspective. Layton was aware he wasn’t being fair, but he didn’t know what else would reach Luke. Sometimes humans tend to dismiss kindness because negativity seems to be more real or mature, regardless of substance, same way medicine doesn’t feel effective unless it’s bitter. Was it the right way to go about it? Layton had no idea. In moments like these he had no sources he could rely on for a “correct” way out of the situation, and could only trust his own experience. He had to place all his trust in the fact that he knows his friend well, and carry on with confidence that’s needed from a mentor. - But I also trust Randall to stick to what he’s learned from his ordeal. And what’s more important, even if he does slip up at some point he has me, and Henry, and Angela, and many others who are willing to help him. The things he’s done stay with him, and it’s up to him if he chooses to use them to become better, or let them drag him back down. At the end of the day him shackling himself to the idea of being a bad person would only be a waste of potential. Perhaps some people might believe otherwise. But if you ask me there’s no inherent worth that a person might hold or lose. Judging such a thing sounds absurd, since that would imply some universal pre-determined quantifiable amount of worthiness that any action takes or provides, and it could never match up to what you’re really worth to those surrounding you. I imagine a loved one your worth remains the same at your best and at your lowest. Meanwhile if I were to put myself to the same judgement you’re casting on yourself, I would have lost my right to call myself a gentleman long ago. Do you think that’s fair?
— Of course not, professor! - Luke raised his voice again, and for the first time in a while looked up high enough to make eye contact. He looked genuinely offended by the suggestion, which Layton found just a bit amusing despite the situation. - You’re the definition of a true gentleman!
— Do you have a way of proving that?
— You always help those who are in trouble, and you never give up in the face of a challenge, and-
— I can’t help but notice those are all in present tense. Implying that’s something I’d actively have to be doing to uphold that status, not the accumulation of past events.
— But-... - Luke stopped for a moment and for a second Layton could have sworn he could see the lightbulb spark above his head. The kid hid his face with his cap again, seemingly in embarrassment this time. - I can see what you’re trying to say professor. I simply have no choice but to carry on and do better. Right?
— I wouldn’t want you to treat this like a lecture. It’s just how things are from my experience. - Layton finally allowed himself to put his hand on the boy’s head, sort of signifying the end of the difficult part of the conversation with a gesture of comfort. When moving the hand away, he playfully pulled the brim even lower on the boy’s face. - People are always in various states of disrepair. You will make many more mistakes, same as I will, same as anyone. If you treat your progress like a linear story, well… - He gestured to the cloudy sky beyond the garden, in the vague direction of where far below them Labyrinthia would be. - you see what happens.
He looked back at his apprentice, who now finally confidently looked straight at him again. The determination in Luke’s eyes was admirable, but the redness in them got a chuckle out of the professor.
— For example currently we’ve made no progress in getting your tears to stop, if anything perhaps it’s gotten worse. But other things were achieved that are worthwhile in my opinion.- Layton said half jokingly, causing Luke to run his sleeve along his face again, then shake his head like a dog would to dry it's fur.
— You said it will stop on it's own eventually, right? We should get back to preparing for Espella’s trial! - Luke jumped off the fountain ledge.
— Right you are! As long as you feel ready.
Having already ran half way to the entrance Luke couldn’t hear the professor anymore. Layton got up to follow him, and having to stand made him realize just how much energy the conversationtook out of him. Still, hopefully this saved the kid a lot of sleepless nights. Layton picked up the handkerchief Luke had left behind, and ran back indoors to continue their search.