War for Justice Chapter 4: Chapter 3 - Luke Justus

Read chapter 4 of War for Justice by Arthur on NovelPedia.

Chapter 3 - Luke Justus Arthur remembers someone in his life that he can trust and was close to. His cousin, Luke Justus was fifteen and moved through the world like he was meant to be a star. Not arrogantly. That was the thing about Luke that Arthur had never quite figured out how to categorize. He was popular without trying to be, friendly without performing it, the kind of person who remembered what you said three conversations ago and brought it up casually, as if your words had simply been worth keeping. He was also two years younger than Arthur, which Arthur found quietly inconvenient whenever he needed to feel certain about things. They had not seen each other in nearly eight months. The visit had taken two days of patient maneuvering - Arthur suggesting it to his mother at the right moments, at the right volumes, until the idea felt like hers. She had called his aunt. Plans were made. A long weekend. Arthur had smiled and said nothing about his true reasons. He saw Luke walking in his school uniform on a street just outside the school gates. He was moving comfortably, smiling the way he always did - not at anything in particular, just as a default - talking to a girl with straight hair and a laughing voice. She was gesturing widely about something. Luke was listening with his full attention, the way he always listened, like whatever you were saying was currently the most interesting thing happening in the world. Arthur stood a short distance away and waited. Then he crept up behind them with a cold, blank expression. The girl noticed first. Something about the stillness of him - the way he didn't smile, didn't announce himself - made her uncomfortable in a way she probably couldn't explain. She glanced at Luke, wished him goodbye warmly enough, and excused herself. Luke turned. "Ooh," Arthur murmured. "Leaving a comfortable life, aren't we Luke?" Luke looked at him for a moment, then laughed once. "You can tell." He fell into step beside Arthur naturally, as if they had last spoken yesterday. "How are you? How was the drive?" "Pretty long." Arthur paused. "But I hope it'll be worth it." Luke studied him sideways for a half second - that quiet flicker of attention he never announced - then nodded and let it go. They walked. The street outside the school was wide and unhurried. Other students drifted past in loose groups. A younger boy chased a football that had rolled into the road. Someone's music leaked thinly from a passing car. Arthur kept his hands in his pockets. "Can I ask you something?" "Well sure," Luke said. "It's not like you can ask anyone else besides me." Arthur almost smiled. "If your family members were being murdered. What would you do?" Luke glanced at him. "What are you talking about? Get straight to the point." "Aelions are being murdered systematically. Right now. In the Middle East." "And where exactly?" "Ledoria." Luke was quiet for a moment. Not dismissive - processing. "That's far," he said finally. "I'd probably just do nothing. Hope and pray things get better." Arthur said nothing. They continued walking. A boy of perhaps seven came running quickly down the pavement ahead of them, backpack bouncing, head down, threading through the foot traffic with the focused urgency of someone already late for something. As he passed, Arthur extended his foot slightly. The boy's shoe caught it. His body lurched forward - the sudden drop of weight, the gasp. Arthur's hand shot out and gripped the back of the boy's bag. The fall stopped. The boy stumbled but didn't meet the ground. "You alright?" Arthur asked, steadying him. The boy blinked, startled. Then nodded. "Good. Keep going." The boy adjusted his bag and moved on quickly, glancing back once before disappearing around the corner. Arthur straightened. There was something quietly fulfilled in his expression. Beside him, Luke had gone very still. He was staring at Arthur with an expression that hadn't fully settled into one thing yet - somewhere between