#I've got a separate interactive Nimona story I'm putting together

[euphreana]

The Shape of Truth - Chapter 18: Old Plans

Masterpost

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The cannons on the wall were all linked together, made to be controlled from one location. That location was only lightly secured - set so that any knight or knight-in-training could operate it in an emergency - but it did require a keycard to get in.

Ambrosius knew he could try retrieving his own keycard from the mental ward storage at the hospital, provided his stuff was still there, but using it would probably set off alerts. They needed a keycard from someone else - someone who wouldn’t miss theirs while Ambrosius and Nimona worked, nor report it as missing and alert authorities when it was used. Fortunately, there was someone who wouldn’t miss their keycard: Ballister. He hadn't had a reason to have it with him at the knighting, so chances were it had been left somewhere that Ambrosius could find. And knowing how long it took The Institute to update their databases, it would probably still work.

Ambrosius kept his head down as he slipped into the cadet dormitory’s back entrance. It was mid morning, and the next round of future knights were moving their stuff into what would be their rooms for the next few years. It was just busy enough that a custodian on duty wouldn’t stand out. That was the idea, at least, Ambrosius thought as he pushed the supply cart Nimona was hiding in towards the room that used to be Ballister’s. He paused at a corner to adjust the glasses on his face. At least no one here knew him well enough to recognize him on sight.

Ballister’s dorm was unlocked and empty - apparently whoever had been assigned this room wasn’t moving in just yet. That made Ambrosius’s job easier. He shoved the custodian cart through the door, making sure to lock it behind him. Nimona sprang from her hiding spot in the cart, shaking off dust while taking human form again.

“Whew, I am not hiding in the vacuum again!” She exclaimed.

Ambrosius didn’t reply. He’d barely spoken a word to Nimona since the day before, when he’d learned she’d done nothing to prevent his dad’s death.

He looked around the room. It had long since been emptied, leaving just a few pieces of bare furniture and a bed. Still, Ambrosius was confident the keycard was here. Ballister had always hid his important things - having had his room raided by bullies more than once had made him careful about that.

Ambrosius lifted the mattress on the bed, checking for anything that could have been stuck in the bed springs. Nothing. He ran his hands along the seams of the mattress, looking for a tear that things could be stashed inside. Nothing. He turned to the nightstand, pulling the drawer out and looking below it, then checking behind the furniture. Nothing. Ambrosius rubbed his scalp, trying to think. The keycard had to be here. Where would…

“Hey,” Nimona piped up from across the room, “I think I see something in here.” She gestured at an air vent at the bottom of the far wall.

Of course. The screws holding the vent in place were barely attached, and there were greasy marks around the edges from regular handling.

Four little screws clattered to the floor in succession as Ambrosius removed the vent cover. Sure enough, there was a satchel sitting inside, awaiting its owner’s return - a return that would never come.

Ambrosius tried to push his feelings away as he rummaged through the bag. There was an emergency money card, a holo-photo device, several glass marbles from a game they'd played as kids, another money card, a small cloth pouch… and finally, Ballister's keycard.

Ambrosius pocketed the keycard, then picked up the small cloth pouch curiously. Nimona watched over his shoulder.

“What’s that?” she asked.

Ambrosius didn’t know. It felt like… coins inside? He pulled open the drawstring and emptied the contents onto his palm. Two rings tumbled out.

Nimona tilted her head.

“Are those… engagement rings?”

They were engagement rings. Fancy engagement rings. One was gold molded into a braided design - the same gold tone as Ambrosius’s armor. The other was striped with blue and black - Ballister’s favorite colors. Both of their initials were carved together onto the rings in an interlocking design.

Ambrosius’s hands began to shake as he sat back on his knees. These rings weren't cheap. Ballister had been planning for a long time, probably saving money for years, until he’d had enough for the rings. Rings that would never be used.

Ambrosius closed his hand on the rings, holding them tight. His vision blurred. His chest tightened. He locked his jaw, trying to will the sobs building up inside him to go away. He could feel the engagement rings pressing against his palm, a reminder of who Bal had been, and how he’d been taken away, never to return.

Ambrosius clasped his free hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his sobs. Nimona placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, we should get out of this place. Someone could hear.”

Ambrosius didn’t care if someone heard. He was suffocating in grief. He almost wanted someone to hear him - at least then someone would know how the love of his life had been torn away from him, leaving a gaping hole of nothing.

Nimona’s voice came again.

“Come on, he wouldn’t have wanted you to get caught.”

Ambrosius opened his mouth to say something in reply, but all that came out was a wail of despair. He couldn’t handle it any longer. He doubled over, clutching the rings to his chest as enormous sobs wracked his body.

Nimona was moving around behind him.

“No no no… Someone will hear…”

Suddenly a cloud of pink fluff pressed itself against his face. It was Nimona, in dog form.

Forgetting Nimona’s transgression, Ambrosius wrapped his arms around Nimona in a hug, burying his face in her thick fur to muffle his weeping.

No one outside heard him, busy with their lives as they were, moving along as if he didn't exist. It was a tragedy - the world would never know the truth; that Ballister had been a beautiful, kind, caring human, not a mentally ill murderer as the official records stated. The world would never see these engagement rings on the fingers of their intended, despite Ballister's years of careful planning. The world was cruel. There was no changing that about it.

Ambrosius and Nimona remained there for an hour, Ambrosius letting out the unprocessed pain and grief he’d been trying to push down for so long. Nimona stayed with him, letting him hold onto her for as long as he needed.

Eventually, Ambrosius’s sobs subsided and he sat back against the wall, feeling empty inside. Nimona lay next to him, resting her fluffy head on his lap while he ran his fingers through her fur. Slowly, he began to come back to himself.

“I’m sorry…” he said quietly, picking up and replacing the glasses that had fallen off his face.

“It’s okay. You needed that.”

Ambrosius didn't reply. He'd never felt so lost. Everything… everyone… gone.

Nimona spoke up.

“You never said you were together like that.”

“I didn’t… think I needed to say it.”

There was a brief silence. Then Nimona spoke again.

“When I decided to be your sidekick, I thought you’d be different - a rebel, more like your dad. I thought you just needed a small push to become a villain.”

“You’re… disappointed?”

Nimona stretched her furry legs.

“Sorta, yeah.”

Ambrosius was too numb for the uncontrolled feeling of guilt to settle. Nimona continued.

“This has been more fun though. You’re more unpredictable. And for what it’s worth, you’re a better person than your dad.”

Ambrosius closed his eyes. “I’m still not forgiving you for not saving him.”

Nimona sighed.

“Fine. But hey, maybe that’ll be your path to being the villain after all.”

Ambrosius didn’t respond to that. He reached under the neck of his shirt and pulled out the necklace he’d taken from his family's vault. He unclasped it and slid the two engagement rings onto the chain, next to his mom's pendant.

“Nimona… Do you think you can get us into the hospital?”

There was one more chore he needed to do.