Arc IV: Part VII

After a long and restful sleep, Sirius stayed snug in bed until his stomach's growling became unpleasant. He got up slowly, stretching to shake off any remaining drowsiness before taking a refreshing shower. Feeling revitalized, he went downstairs to the inn's lower level. Despite the empty common room, the friendly innkeeper warmly greeted him as he sat down at the nearest table and settled in, raising his eyebrow with surprise as his gaze found a television spot on a shelf.

"This quite unusual to see in a wizarding venue", Sirius said.

"Nothing is usual in the sanctuary…That, I find, is where this place drains all its charm. I was skeptical of muggle artifacts at first, yet today I find it pleasantly entertaining when I'm alone in the Inn…I strongly encourage you to purchase one yourself, the muggle documentaries are incredibly interesting", the man said, flickering his wand at the Tv, switching the channel from a Bulgarian channel to the BBC one.

"Thank you…Am I still on time for breakfast?", Sirius asked.

"Of course, we always receive some late risers and night-shift workers", The Inn Keeper replied with a nod, as a warm cup of coffee levitated from the counter to his table.

"Excellent! So, I'll have the same as yesterday", Sirius said.

"I'll be back shortly", the man replied with a smile before leaving alone, absorbed by the image succeeding each other on the Tv's screen.

Sirius sprinkled a few grains of sugar into his steaming cup of coffee before gently stirring it, his attention captured by the Anchor as he regaled an entertaining tale. A small grin played at the corners of his lips, enjoying the story and the lively commentary that followed. "…Before taking off for Mexico to take part in this year's World Cup, the Three Lions visited an orphanage in London! Although, the event didn't go as planned…As soon the squad and press arrived… We were invited by a four-year-old boy named Henry to attend a presentation, in the orphanage living room. During this presentation, Henry suggested to the team's staff to play an Orangutan as goalkeeper, before turning his attention to the players and motivated them into learning Spanish to confuse Maradona…continuously using words he obviously don't grasp the meaning, such as 'vamos', 'dale' and 'carajo'. However, the situation took a radical turn after a fistfight erupted between an older girl and Henry after the boy switched his attention to David Beckham, the young promise of England's football, and inquired if considering his recent performance against Italy, David's secret ambition was to become the sixth spice girl rather than signing for a premier league top team…Despite this unfortunate setback, the event carried on with no further incidents signed autographs, and took pictures with the children before departing for Mexico…"

On the television screen, a heartwarming image displayed England's national team posing with the orphanage children. In the center of the first row, a small child donning an oversized England shirt beamed at the camera, flashing a thumbs-up, with a cotton ball pushed up his nostril. An older girl stood beside him, with an arm around Henry's shoulder, both wearing bright smiles, glancing furtively at the man standing nearby with a stern gaze focused down on them.


After spending a day in the village, Sirius found it enchanting, a place where a rustic community thrived amidst rolling hills and picturesque fields. The village was surrounded by dense forests and meandering rivers, which provided a serene and calming atmosphere. The homes in the village were typically constructed of wood or brick and featured sloping, clay-tiled roofs and vibrant facades. The streets were narrow and winding, flanked by fruit trees and fragrant flowers, creating a delightful setting.

The village square was the heart of the community, where the imposing headquarters of the Dragonologists stood tall, accompanied by a few local shops, and a bustling marketplace where locals would gather to buy fresh produce and handmade goods. The sound of roosters crowing and dragons growling in the distance added to the idyllic ambiance. Life in the village was slow-paced, with locals spending their days tending to their farms and livestock or congregating in the town square to share stories and engage in idle chatter.

After he had eaten his fill, Sirius made a quick stop back at his room before venturing out to stroll down the quaint cobbled streets, browsing the charming local shops. He carefully selected souvenirs for his friends, including an enchanting small Chinese fireball replica for Emma. Then, he headed to the village post office, where he sent the carefully wrapped packages to the Pub, Balasko's, Alexa, and Remus's homes via owl.

Once his errands were completed, Sirius disapparated to reappear on the path leading to the nursery. He carefully searched through the rows of enclosures, looking for Xenia until he finally found her, hard at work in an empty one. Sirius stood by the enclosure entrance and cleared his throat before speaking. "Good morning, boss," he said.

Xenia startled at the sound of his voice and jumped around, "what are you doing here?" she asked.

Sirius took a deep breath and replied, "All right…You've been kind to welcome me, and I returned only rudeness and arrogance. So, I came to apologize, hoping we can wipe the slate clean and start over again."

Xenia's surprise quickly turned to a frown as she asked, "Are you taking the piss?"

"Absolutely not…How about you let me prove my sincerity? Sirius replied.

Xenia looked him up and down skeptically before asking, "Really?"

"I promise I'm not joking…Start giving orders, and you'll see by yourself" Sirius asked, rolling up his sleeves.

"Okay…. Start by getting a pair of gloves and an apron from the lockers at the back. Then, come back here," Xenia instructed, pointing at the door at the end of the path, and watching him suspiciously as he headed towards it.

Shortly after, Sirius returned tying tightly his apron's straps behind his back, before carefully stepping inside the enclosure to join Xenia. The enclosure was about twenty square feet, with grassy soil and bordered by sharp, high rocks that framed a waterfall that filled a water tank.

Xenia finished setting up a nest with hay, then stood up and told him, "All right... As I mentioned yesterday, this is the Sanctuary's nursery. When a Dragon egg is close to hatch, we immediately transfer it here and put it in one of these enclosures, which have been specifically prepared to host it... so it can come into the world in a safe and welcoming space. This one is made to host a Romanian Longhorn, which explains why it looks like the landscape of the region."

"Does a newborn Dragon need to be isolated? What if the Dragon lays more than one egg?" Sirius asked.

"Each baby gets its own enclosure, of course. Dragons are dangerous predators from the moment they're born, so they could attack each other... The grass under our feet is charmed to be fireproof, and the glass..." Xenia said, knocking her knuckles on the glass, "... is made of a mixture of Borate, Silicone dioxide, aluminum, and is 8 inches thick. It can withstand a heat rising up to 1500 ºC, which is 500 degrees more than what a Dragon that age can produce."

Sirius pressed his hand against the sturdy glass, his curiosity piqued. "Have there ever been any incidents?" he inquired.

Xenia shook her head negatively, responding, "Never! Occasionally, they may get a bit rambunctious, but we've never encountered any real danger... During the first months, our first concern is self-harm and refusal to eat. Then, we relocate them to another section."

Sirius turned his head to her, his interest evident. "How do you handle them when they start hurting themselves? Do you stun them?"

"Absolutely not! We religiously refrain from using magic against them until they reach at least a year old," Xenia explained, gesturing toward the waterfall. "We employ water, instead of our wands!"

"Ooh…So you drug them" Sirius whispered.

Xenia nodded affirmatively. "If it dangerously escalates, the water evaporates to diffuse a sedative that expands in the enclosure... Then, within a matter of seconds, the Dragon peacefully falls asleep, and we get enough time to enter and assess the situation."

Sirius nodded, absorbing the information, before slowly pivoting, taking in the interior with awe. "How long do they stay here?"

"Six months. From the outside, you wouldn't notice any changes, but the interior gradually expands, accommodating the growing resident... Once they complete six months in this space, we transfer them to another section where they begin socializing with other Dragons and learn how to hunt on their own," Xenia replied.

"I saw one snatch a sheep the day I arrived…What else they can hunt?" Sirius inquired with a hint of amusement.

Xenia chuckled, and tossed him a shovel, "Too soon… We still have two more enclosures to prepare before lunchtime. The eggs are due to hatch tomorrow, and there is a battery of tests I must conduct before calling it a day."


As Red followed Bilyana and Bisera through the valley, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting the land in a deep shade of crimson. In the distance, a lone high dark standing stone jutted up from the earth, its ominous presence looming over the surrounding terrain.

As they drew closer, Bilyana produced her wand and pointed it at the stone, calling forth a flickering light that illuminated a small dome surrounding the ancient monolith. With a soft whisper of an incantation, she gestured for Red to approach, and watched as Bisera passed through the small opening that had just appeared in the ward.

Red felt a shiver run down his spine as he stepped into the shadowy space beneath the ward, the air thick with otherworldly energy. He could sense the weight of centuries bearing down upon the stone and could feel the magic that had been woven around it, pulsing with an ancient power.

With trepidation, Red gazed up at the towering stone, wondering what secrets it held. As Red crossed through the opening, Bilyana followed closely behind and sealed the entrance behind her.

Bilyana turned towards Red, ready to enlighten him further. "We refer to these stones as 'Menhirs.' They are strategically positioned throughout the Sanctuary, forming rows and circles around the headquarters, which is the sanctuary's epicenter."

Red's curiosity grew, "What's their purpose?"

Bilyana explained, "These Menhirs act as antennas to extend the reach of our protective wards. The headquarters generates the wards, which are then transmitted to the first ring of Menhirs, expanding to the subsequent rows, and so forth, until they encompass the borders of the reserve, where the far outposts complete the final connection."

Red nodded in understanding, masking his amazement towards the intricate system, "how is it possible to channel such a tremendous amount of magic?"

Bisera interjected, adding her insight. "It is impossible for humans to harness and direct such amounts of magic, even if we were to unite and synchronize our efforts. Hence, the founders of the reserve devised a solution inspired by ancient wizarding practices. These Menhirs are made of old material able to concentrate and channel an immense quantity of magic into their core."

While inspecting the symbols adorning the stones, Bilyana continued, "We conduct daily inspections to ensure they remain uncompromised and perfectly functional. Any noteworthy findings are recorded and immediately transmitted to the Library for further study."

As the symbols on the stone briefly illuminated before fading, Bilyana exchanged it with another perfectly round stone from the Menhir's core. She handed the stone and a scroll to Red, saying, "Deliver the scroll to your friend at the Library, then meet us at our headquarters with this stone."

Red nodded affirmatively, "Consider it done!" accepting the stone and turned to leave, a profound sense of curiosity filled him, compelling him to unravel the magical intricacies and secrets hidden within the reserve.


Mikhail strolled among the shelves of the library, yawning as a cart laden with books trailed behind him, pausing occasionally to return them to their designated spots. The library's vastness seemed even more imposing and, at times, intimidating when he found himself alone amidst its grandeur. So, when he heard hurried footsteps echoing behind him, he couldn't help but startle, emitting a small shriek.

A second after, he cursed under his breath as he caught sight of Red's head poking out from the end of the row, his eyes wide and his lips trembling, barely suppressing his laughter.

"Can't you fill your time with anything other than sneaking up on me?" Mikhail questioned him.

"Sneak up on you?" Red retorted, frowning. "There's enough space to land a space rocket between us! And this is important! They sent me to deliver this!" Red declared, tossing to Mikhail the scroll Bilyana had given him earlier.

Mikhail nodded, relief evident in his tone. "Thank goodness! I thought I would be walking from shelf to shelf all day..." He gestured to Red to follow him to the circular desk.

Mikhail settled into Cicero's armchair and unraveled the scroll on the desk, while Red conjured a chair and took a seat across from him. "What are you going to do with it?" Red inquired, his gaze fixed on the paper unfurled before them.

Mikhail opened a large book and responded, "Cicero instructed me to duplicate every report I receive, archive one copy here in the Library and add the other to the Library's daily report they send to Dragan at the end of the day... So, have you encountered anything interesting thus far?"

Red nonchalantly shrugged. "Pretty much...But, I spent the morning observing, much like yesterday."

"Such as the menhirs that expand magic?" Mikhail queried, raising an eyebrow.

"How did you know?" Red asked, taken aback.

Mikhail tapped his finger on the parchment and replied, "It mentioned that they showed it to you and explained its purpose... The rest seems to be encrypted... I assume it's meant for Cicero."

"They really document everything?" Red asked, with a frown.

"I was just as surprised; they leave no detail overlooked," Mikhail affirmed, nodding. "They also watch over all what's unfolding in the reserve…Even the smallest details, like this one."

"Like what?", Red asked, curious.

Mikhail cleared his throat and replied, "Each night after bidding good night to his companions, Red Russel locks his room's door to play with his Barbie doll, inventing scenarios in which Barbie falls in love with and leaves Ken…"

"Piss off!", Red said, chuckling.

"It's all here, I'm only translating…" Mikhail said, shrugging. Then as he transcribed the text, Red reclined in his chair, intertwining his hands behind his head. "What do you think he's up to right now?" Red pondered aloud.

"Who? Sirius?" Mikhail inquired.

"Yeah... He skipped work yesterday and ignored me when I knocked on his door this morning. I wonder what he's up to," Red voiced his concern.

"Why do you care?" Mikhail asked.

"I care because if he keeps skipping work and indulging in acting like a kid, Dragan will lose patience and fire us! And I need that dragon heartstring!" Red expressed his apprehension.

Mikhail chuckled, gazed at him, and replied, "You've certainly got nerve!"

"Don't you agree?" Red challenged.

Mikhail looked at him incredulously and responded, "Sirius and I win nothing from doing this. We're only here to do you a favor, out of friendship! Hence, it would be nice if you showed a little gratitude!"

"I am grateful! But since we're here, wouldn't it be foolish not to seize the opportunity? Rather than getting kicked out?" Red argued.

Mikhail sighed and said, "Listen, I'm here doing what they asked of me. If Sirius annoys you, address it with him directly."

"Mikhail... I didn't come here to start an argument! I'm just concerned", Red said.

"You shouldn't be concerned… Xenia's morning report mentioned that Sirius showed up to work."


Patil's sleek silver car left the motorway and wound its way along a narrow, tree-lined road that snaked through the dense forest. Rays of sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling the forest floor with patches of light and shadow. Soon enough, the forest had been left behind, and the sign announcing the university's campus appeared.

All along the road leading to the university, young men and women in bright green shirts jogged, their feet pounding the pavement in a rhythmic beat. On both sides of the road, Kingsley observed groups of students cheering and laughing, playing football, rugby, and tennis, among other muggle sports that he was entirely clueless about.

As they approached the campus, they arrived at a tall, impressive column that Kingsley estimated to be close to 200 ft. The column stood on a white marble base located on a roundabout in front of the campus's main building, an imposing Gothic-style structure that commanded attention. Patil brought his car to a stop, and Kingsley stepped out, gazing up at the magnificent building. Kingsley marveled at the intricate carvings and gargoyles that adorned the building's exterior. According to the police officers they had spoken to back at the station, the building was at least two centuries old and had been meticulously preserved to retain its historical grandeur.

As they approached the entrance, a group of students emerged, their faces wreathed in smiles. The last student held the door open for them, and they made their way into the building. After examining the map at the entrance, they walked quietly along the path lined with tables occupied by students, climbing the stairs until they reached the third floor and following the signs on the walls. Finally, they arrived in a spacious waiting room where a secretary was busy organizing her files, the sound of rustling paper filling the air.

Patil knocked on the open door, and Kingsley approached the woman who turned to them, surprise etched on her face. "We would like to see the chancellor," Kingsley announced.

The woman surveyed them, then asked, "And who would you be?"

They presented their badges, and she nodded, disappearing through the door behind her desk, leaving them alone. While they awaited her return, Kingsley and Patil ambled around, admiring the pictures on the walls that depicted the university's athletes and teams posing with their trophies and medals.

The woman reappeared, smiling at them. "The chancellor will see you now," she said, beckoning them into the office. The man had tousled hair, a blunt nose, and wore a dark brown velvet suit over a light green jersey. The stormy gloom filtered in only a few rays of sunlight piercing the room and scattering shards of light. The chancellor offered them a seat, his smile fading as he failed to mask his anxiety any longer, rubbing his wrist.

"I was expecting to see you soon, inspectors," the chancellor said.

Kingsley opened his mouth to reply, but Patil spoke up, nudging Kingsley's knee. "Why is that so? The victim was found miles away from your institution."

The chancellor fixed Patil with a stern and unyielding gaze. "The victim had a name, Inspector... Kian J Andrews. Let us not forget that, please."

"I apologize," Patil said, nodding contritely.

The chancellor sighed and whispered. "I understand that you must maintain emotional detachment to ensure the objectivity of your investigation,"

Kingsley wondered why he had felt the need to correct Patil. Patil cleared his throat and said, "Right... We understand that Mr. Andrews was a student here until ten years ago?"

The chancellor nodded. "Yes, he studied mathematics and statistics before completing a four-year MMath degree."

Patil furrowed his brow. "An MMath?"

"It's an advanced integrated master's degree for mathematics courses," the chancellor explained patiently.

"What can you tell us about him?" Patil inquired.

The chancellor's countenance contorted as he retrieved a file from his desk. "I had no personal acquaintance with the young gentleman. Nonetheless, upon hearing of the tragedy, I delved into our archives to peruse his academic record. Kian was admitted on account of his exceptional high school grades and bestowed with a full scholarship. Throughout his four-year tenure at our institution, he excelled in every course and avoided any untoward incidents."

Patil nodded in agreement, accepting the file that the chancellor handed him. "On our way here and while waiting to be received, we couldn't help but observe the vibrant ambiance around this campus. Was Mr. Andrews affiliated with any sports teams? Did he have any friends you can tell us about?"

"His file indicates that he was part of the rugby team for four years. I have no doubts that he was also socially well-connected… One must remember that a university's objective is not only academic but also to facilitate social networking," the chancellor remarked.

"Networking?" Patil inquired.

"Indeed… Our institution, along with a select few in the United Kingdom, is devoted to grooming the intellects that will ascend to the highest echelons of society. Being granted admission here is an unparalleled opportunity to cultivate enduring associations that will prove advantageous for years to come," the chancellor affirmed.

Kingsley's question was blunt. "Have there been any suspicious incidents on your campus?"

The chancellor cast a surprised glance at Kingsley before asking, "Suspicious? None whatsoever." He then scowled and posed his own question, "What would you consider to be suspicious?"

Patil offered a nonchalant shrug before responding, "Drug-related offenses, theft, altercations, perhaps?"

"Absolutely not," the chancellor replied firmly. "Our students come from respectable families and exemplify the finest of moral and societal values. We function like a large family and impart the most exacting standards of conduct to our students."

Kingsley grimaced, then said, "Even in the most cohesive families, there are always disputes: children who rebel, parents who fail to comprehend their offspring, siblings who brawl. Furthermore, some young people deem it trendy and a means of self-expression to form groups, gangs, or cliques based on sports clubs, common ethnicities, or social classes. Unfortunately, this often leads to trouble."

The chancellor's eyes widened. "Gangs and cliques? Inspector… I fear I may have misinterpreted each other, earlier when I mentioned networking. We do have sports fans, but no hooliganism or ultras… Only young men and women who enjoy celebrating a victory and the end of the examinations season. In a respectable manner, of course," he said, with a nervous chuckle.

Patil smiled. "Of course… I was once part of a Dungeons and Dragons club at Law school. Are there any activities involving role-playing games, for instance?" he inquired.

"What is role-playing?" The chancellor asked, perplexed.

"Oh… They're games where players dress up and act as fictional characters, sometimes from medieval or science-fiction settings. They often involve codes, rituals, and ceremonies," Kingsley explained.

"Oh… No! Our students are level-headed," the chancellor exclaimed, shaking his head and chuckling. He then rubbed his face and said to Kingsley, "I was informed that you were an exceptional agent."

Kingsley responded with a polite smile and a nod before the chancellor cleaned his glasses and said, "Well, inspectors… I only hope that you discover and apprehend the culprit as soon as possible so that justice may be served."

"That is our sole priority… One last thing… Um… We're attempting to learn more about Mr. Andrews, and you mentioned earlier that he played rugby. Are any of his former teammates still residing in the area? Someone who knew him personally, hung out with him, and could provide us with more information about him?" Kingsley inquired.

The chancellor reflected for a moment, stroking his chin. Then his eyes widened, and he stated, "Yes…There is someone who could help you more that I. Professor Sexton was enrolled in the rugby team as well, back then" He then gazed at the hourglass and said with a smile, "You'll most likely encounter him at the gym… Follow the joggers."

Kingsley nodded and rose to his feet. "Thank you very much for your time, sir. Have a pleasant day!"

The chancellor also stood up and shook their hands. Kingsley glanced around the handsomely furnished office, tucking his hands into his jacket's pockets. He then looked at the chancellor and remarked, "Your office is splendid… Moreover, The library downstairs and the sports facilities outside caught my eye…" he said.

Patil nodded, sharing Kingsley's amazement "Especially the football pitch… How many people can the stands accommodate?"

The chancellor beamed, "Forty thousand! All of them seated, of course" he replied.

"Remarkable… That's nearly Anfield's capacity," Patil commented.

"I imagine this is a private university, correct?" Kingsley asked.

The chancellor nodded, "Correct… For the past two hundred years. Since its foundation, we have had the honor of educating a lengthy roster of brilliant minds," he stated.

Kingsley looked impressed, "I don't mean to pry, but how high can the tuition fees get?" he inquired.

"They vary between ten thousand and fifteen thousand pounds per semester, depending on the student's major. Would you be inquiring on behalf of someone of age to contemplate post-high school education, Inspector?" The chancellor inquired, handing Kingsley and Patil a booklet from a drawer.

"I'm not a father, unfortunately… Although, Inspector Patil has two daughters who may someday join your university," Kingsley remarked.

Patil perused the booklets, a wry smile playing across his lips. "I wish… Only I doubt that my wife and I could scrape together the funds to enroll our daughters in such a castle like this," he remarked.

The chancellor emitted a soft chuckle. "It's regrettable how our tuition fees can daunt prospective students, inducing them to overlook the scholarships and bursaries we proffer. We lament not receiving more applications from underprivileged households and international students," he lamented.

Kingsley stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Fascinating...I'm sorry to insist on the university's facilities but it all appears quite extravagant. So, I'm quite curious - do the students' tuition fees suffice to maintain such a high standard?" he inquired.

The chancellor shook his head. "Certainly not! The student's tuition fees only cover a fraction of the university's operating expenses. The government grants us an additional five percent, we receive generous donations from our esteemed alumni, and other companies. Additionally, our endowment is managed by a hedge fund that generates enough returns to support the university's operations and programs"

"A hedge fund?" Patil interjected.

"Indeed… The B.I.F.C" the chancellor confirmed.

"Isn't it the same firm that employed Mr. Andrews?" Kingsley asked.

"Correct", the chancellor confirmed with an approving nod.

"Thank you again for your time, sir," Kingsley said with a nod of appreciation. He then gestured toward the pamphlet in his hand. "Perhaps our paths will cross again in the future."

The chancellor beamed at them benevolently. "It would be my pleasure, inspectors!"

The telephone rang, and at that moment, they chose to leave the office. They departed the building and, as the vice-chancellor instructed, they followed the joggers, avoiding the golf carts rushing from one point to another until they entered a more contemporary building.


Inside, it was a spacious area with a high ceiling supported by a steel structure. The walls were made of glass, allowing natural light to flood in, and a running track surrounded a number of high-tech training machines, dumbbell racks, benches, indoor bikes, and treadmills. They approached a young woman who was tying her shoelaces nearby and asked her about the professor. She pointed at a man working out alone in the weightlifting area, specifically on the bench press.

They approached the man, and Kingsley assisted him in putting down the bar on its rack. The man sat up on the bench, out of breath, and looked at them with surprise as Patil handed him his bottle of water.

"Thank you!" Sexton said before drinking and telling them, "I'm afraid you gentlemen aren't suitably dressed for sports…You'll suffocate in this heat."

"Professor Sexton I guess?" Kingsley asked.

Sexton nodded. "I prefer Dr. Sexton... You must be the inspectors investigating Kian's murder, Correct?" he said.

They replied with a nod, and Patil said, "We just ended a meeting with the university's chancellor. We understand that Kian and you were acquaintances a few years back?"

Sexton sighed and wiped his soaked face with a towel before replying. "Yes... We were teammates and friends...So, I still can't stomach what happened to him…Even less the brutality of it. Enough to dismiss all my classes and tutoring sessions for the week."

"We are sorry, yet you'll understand that we can't wait an entire week…We came here hoping you can help us see more clearly into it", Kingsley said.

Sexton nodded slowly, "Sure…How can I help, inspectors?", Sexton asked.

"We're open to anything you can tell us about him…How was he like?", Kingsley asked.

Sexton shrugged, "Sincerely? Who knows…I haven't seen him for ten years. Since the day we graduated precisely...We graduated and split to go on our own ways. However, I'll always remember him as a great lad who enjoyed partying as much as I did and always had his teammates' backs in the tough games.", he said, his voice tainted with nostalgia.

"Then…You'll describe him as a popular and well-regarded person?" Patil inquired.

Sexton nodded firmly, "Absolutely! Everybody liked Kian…He was always invited to parties and other gatherings", he replied.

Kinsley glanced over at a small group that passed behind them as they ran laps on the track. "Did he ever complain or voiced any insecurity as to his background? Did it pose any handicap when he joined this university?", he asked.

Sexton frowned, "What are you referring to by background?", he asked.

"We've been told that the majority of the students attending this university come from rich and affluent families, with a deep connection to the region. Hence, we're curious as to know if Kian was easily accepted into this -I imagine- restricted circle…", Kingsley asked.

Sexton let out a small chuckled and replied with a question. "Inspectors…Are you familiar with the impostor's syndrome?"

Kingsley and Patil exchanged a glance before Patil reciprocated Sexton's smile and asked, "You are the professor here."

"All right, class… The impostor's syndrome is when despite working diligently, one comes to believe that his accomplishments are not due to industrious work, but rather to luck, favorable timing, or -in everyone's case here- being born into a rich family with high academic achievement and extensive connections…As to say, we were all eager to be viewed favorably by Kian, who was admitted here based on his outstanding academic performance instead of his parents' generous donations. Moreover, spending time with him and making sure to be seen with him, made us appear less snobbish.", Sexton explained.

Kingsley nodded, "You make it sound like there was a competition, in which Kian was the prize", he said.

Sexton nodded, and sighed, "Because it was the case…However, he also widely benefited from the situation and us"

"How come?", Patil asked.

Sexton chuckled, "Loads of pussy…Among other opportunities.", he said with a smile before his face turned serious again. "Through us, he met our parents, secured internship…Hanging out with us undoubtedly set on his career before even graduating. Hence, it was a win-win situation, and we were all fine with it."

Kingsley nodded, softly knocking his knuckles on a weight plate. "Interesting…Would you say that the particular attention Kian received could have originated some sense of envy?", he asked.

Kingsley immediately sensed Sexton's doubts and the short silence that followed only confirmed his intuitions. Sexton finally replied with a low and uncertain voice, "Yeah…Initially, it did."

"From whom?" Kingsley inquired.

"From a girl our age named Clair Docherty", He said before taking a long sip from his water bottle and Kingsley glanced furtively at Patil. "A girl from the village," Sexton continued. "Kian and she were in the same class since forever as I understood… Like Kian, she was brilliant enough to secure a scholarship."

"What can you tell us about her?", Patil asked.

Sexton's lip slid under his teeth, then said, "She was barmy…I believe she was infatuated with Kian and thought they would stick together against 'us'. She already had her mind made up about us before even meeting any of us…In contrast with Kian, who was an open-minded lad and seized all the opportunities that presented…Clair chose isolation and I suppose that in her solitude, her fondness for Kian morphed into its far opposite."

"She started hating him? That's what you…suspect?", Patil asked.

"Again…We're talking about events that happened more than ten years ago, so my memories aren't clear. Although, she did develop a fixation on Kian. She went as far as shagging a few blokes, thinking it would make Kian envious and suddenly realize he had missed his chances to be with his soul mate…At least that's how it seemed, and the word that spread on campus.", Sexton said.

"Would you know what became of her?", Kingsley asked.

"To a point…Her grades plummeted, and she quickly became addicted to Adderall", Sexton said.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow, "Adderall?"

"Yeah…It's a stimulant used in the treatment of deficit hyperactivity disorder. However, students who are perfectly fine but a bit sluggish, use it to remain focused for hours. But it didn't work for Claire…Her scholarship was revoked, and she borrowed money to pay for the two appeals the university's board granted her until she ultimately dropped out." Sexton said, his voice heavy with regret.

"Did you ever cross paths since she departed from the university?", Patil inquired.

Sexton nodded slowly and sighed, "In a way…She returned a few times, pretending to still be enrolled. However, the security staff caught her and removed her. After, I didn't see her for two years. I had graduated by then…", he said.

"On what occasion?" Kingsley inquired.

Sexton shook his head, "None…I was only driving here to attend a lecture when I spotted her on a street corner working as a garbage collector…Cleaning the sidewalk. I recall that our glances met for a fleeting moment that seemed to have lasted as long as the years we coincided here…Rewinding those long past days…That was the last time I ever saw her, but that the image of that short moment, hunts me…I kind of feel depressed when I think of it", he said with a quiet voice.

They remained silent for a moment before Kingsley asked, "What about Kian? When did you last see or conversed with him?"

"A decade ago…The same day we all graduated. He left for London quickly after we received our degrees…To be honest, I was content with it. We used Kian to satisfy our rich kids' whim, and he reciprocated by using us as stepping stones to get into London's finance center", Sexton said, shrugging.

"He didn't even try reconnecting all this time or last week after returning…To grab a pint and pretend ten years ago was only yesterday?", Patil asked.

Sexton shrugged, "Maybe he did…But, I just returned from Ibiza two days ago and my voice mail was empty", he replied.

"Seminar?" Patil asked.

"Holiday," Sexton replied.

Kingsley nodded. "Very well… Thank you for your time, Dr. Sexton. Make sure to be available in England in case we still need to have a chat with you."

"Of course! Before you leave, can you lads add a 25lb plate on each side and spot me? I'm feeling a real pump right now!" Sexton said, gesturing towards the bar.

Kingsley and Patil exchanged an amused look, and Kingsley replied, "Sure," before doing so. Kingsley stood behind the bench and placed his hands under the bar, then stood watch while Sexton's face contorted and reddened as he struggled to push up the bar.


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