ã€ŠRealm: Uprisingã€‹


 Prologue: Book of Jenesis

    Prologue: Book of Jenesis

    Umbros was born to do exceptional things¡ªa real-world changer, someone whose accomplishments would remold the world for the better. Life, however, had different plans. The young boy was walking to school one day when, out of seemingly nowhere, came a swerving truck. It crashed into him with lethal force, killing him instantly.

    Upon his death, God the Almighty met Umbros in the afterlife with a heavy sigh, for it was not yet his time. God couldn¡¯t simply send the boy back to his mutilated body, as such an action required more divine intervention than he allowed himself. So instead, God stretched out his hand, offering Umbros his own reality¡ªone where he''d be able to rule autonomously and arbitrarily. The ever-creative Umbros jumped at the offer, leaping with excitement and accepting it without a second thought, as if he had forgotten he had even died. And so Umbros was granted a pocket dimension of infinite emptiness where he alone was supreme.

    Umbros named himself ¡°Jod¡± and the universe of which he was molding "Realm." Starting with light and shadows, he would weave everything into creation. Jod created the cosmos from scratch, now understanding it better than any human mind possibly could. The inches between space became miles, and the miles became lightyears. Trillions of stars and planets were scattered across an endless array of spectacular galaxies.

    After the ever-expanding universe was laid out¡ªmostly with the same structure as the one preceding it¡ªhe¡¯d create the main attraction. Realm¡¯s predominant solar system was laid out in a banal fashion: a huge yellow sun, proportionally big for its planet''s moon, and a geographically different¡ªbut otherwise the same¡ªEarth. All three had been endowed with sentience. Jod then descended upon the world he built, stepping on the lush fauna of the conscious, viridescent Earth.

    Realm¡¯s time relation to the original world was paradoxical. After existing in Realm for mere hours, Jod''s best friend from when he was alive, Giovanni, had already lived through his own life and passed of old age. Jod, with permission from God, brought his friend to the new world he had created. After a touching reunion, Jod revealed the purpose of the visit. Jod sought to be as impartial as possible, almost as an experiment to check if all-lovingness was necessary for a universe to flourish. However, for Jod to be as impartial as possible, he had to grant powers to others¡ªa pantheon of his own¡ªso that he wouldn¡¯t directly control everything. Being all-powerful meant Jod could control the very existences he designed. Even if he chose not to, though, the world would still move forward.

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    In short, Jod wanted his friend to join this new pantheon, which would later have the rest of its spots filled by those born naturally of this world. To grant this power, Jod molded a prism, shining his power through it and splitting it into the eight fabrics of Realm¡¯s universe: time, space, life, death, determination, reality, love, and power. Jod then shattered the prism, handing the new God of Time his respective shard and keeping the rest until the births of those he found worthy. Written by _portan_on discord

    Afterwards, Jod continued to work on his new persona. To achieve true neutrality, he¡¯d have to expel good, evil, sin, and virtue from himself. He started with good and evil; by cutting off his right and left hands, his right hand would become the personification of good or ¡°correctness¡±: Gabriel. Meanwhile, his left hand would become the personification of evil or ¡°wrongfulness¡±: Lilith. Their jobs were to balance the world and oversee it from planes that were neither the Overworld nor the Shadows of Jod, where the gods retreat. Gabriel would go on to engineer his very own Kingdom of Heaven, and Lilith would produce Hell, a dimension that was as sentient as the rest.

    Once good and evil were extracted from Jod, sin and virtue were next. Jod carved out his own heart, severing it into seven pieces and letting it fall to the depths. Around each piece of Jod¡¯s heart, a new, slightly discolored heart formed. As it happened, the hearts transformed into seven strong anomalies that were pulsing with power¡ªthose who could not compare to the gods yet could walk the mortal plane. The sins. They were Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath, and Sloth.

    Jod¡¯s heart was not fully cut up. There was still a ball of light at its center; that was virtue. Jod handed his concept of virtue to Gabriel, who was now the only innately good creature around, and told him to give it to those he found worthy. The virtues Jod had given him were temperance, to foil gluttony; patience, to foil wrath; humility, to foil pride; chastity, to foil lust; diligence, to foil sloth; charity, to foil greed; and kindness, to foil envy. And yet, this perfect web made Jod think all things should be like it: balanced. So he would give life to the devils¡ªwho managed niche things that Jod saw fit¡ªand the counterbalancing power to the gods. On the day of creation, the devils appointed were The Sun, The Ocean, and Fire, who would all be overlooked by Lilith.

    Finally, with the groundwork laid, Jod would stand above all his creations, saying ¡°Let there be life¡± as the first races crawled from the earth. Jod made elves in the overworld. They were slightly different from humans¡ªnot that it mattered, as their high biological similarity would result in the latter evolving at some point regardless. In heaven, Gabriel created angels and sorted out their hierarchy, and in hell, Lilith created demons and their powers.

    Life in this new world had begun.

    #

 Chapter 1: Relative Minimum

    England, 1965

    The busy London streets bustled with aspirants and a clamor that filled the air. A middle-aged woman¡ªlikely well into her forties¡ªwith short, immaculate blonde hair and a dapper young boy at her side knocked on one of the many ornamented doors leading into the colossal castle in front of her. It was the elusive residence of the British royal family, guarded by a myriad of disciplined soldiers. The wonder and mystique of such a place were granted by its long, pure stone walls that lapsed completely around the palace and beautifully crafted entrances that appeared too magnificent for anyone to touch.

    The Queen came to the door, opening it to meet the woman face-to-face. ¡°Hello, Carol. I¡¯m glad you found time to bring Jack over,¡± she said gently, ushering her in. "Rachel has been eagerly waiting for him. She''s in the courtyard." Carol nodded, noting the familiar soft velvet cushions on the couches and the excess use of marble everywhere as she entered. In her opinion, the interior design made them seem less like royals and more like just rich people. However, it was not her place to give advice, even if she and the Queen were friends. Guiding her son Jack through a set of glass doors, Carol saw the redheaded princess playing out in the courtyard. She patted his back and pointed at the girl, signaling for him to approach her. ¡°Go play with Rachel, honey. Mommy will be behind those glass doors, okay? Have fun,¡± Carol said, turning back to the Queen as Jack ran off to engage with the Princess.

    ¡°These flowers are new," the young lad commented, surveying the courtyard''s foliage. Rachel waved at him, giving a toothy, innocent grin as she said, ¡°Let¡¯s go pick some!¡± before standing up and running towards the flowers that looked the prettiest. Jack followed her, not too far behind.

    ¡°Eliza, they¡¯re so young. We can¡¯t make such a big decision just like that,¡± Carol said, watching Jack and Rachel play from behind the glass doors, where they couldn¡¯t hear her. She took a deep breath, understanding that she was possibly denying her son of being king, but his happiness was what truly mattered most to her. The Queen would sit in silence for a moment. "Look at them, Carol. They¡¯re as close as they can be at that age. And besides, nothing we decide now will be too permanent. You can call off normal weddings, so you''d be able to call off arranged ones too,¡± Eliza, the Queen, retorted, occasionally glancing at the children.

    They had already plucked most of the wildflowers growing naturally in the garden when Rachel spotted a flower that looked out of place. The child waddled, followed by her friend, as she came upon a delicate flower blooming from between the bricks of the pavilion. Rachel¡¯s grin grew as she bent over to grab the flower. Jack followed close behind. ¡°Mine!¡± the young boy exclaimed, simultaneously reaching for it. Usually, he would be courteous and allow his friend to take it, but this flower was different. Its color, which seemed to shift every time he blinked, compelled him to touch it. In an instant, as both their hands came upon the enthralling flower, the two royals disappeared.

    Having been distracted by the earlier argument, the mothers would catch a cursory glimpse of the event¡ªtheir children frolicking in the fields one moment and being gone the next. First, shock overwhelmed them, their eyes widening as they raced out to ascertain what had happened. Next, when it was confirmed that Jack and Rachel had truly vanished, their mouths contorted into screams. Running through their minds was fear, despair, and confusion. ¡°Where¡¯d they go?!¡± Carol shrieked, but Eliza could only stare blankly as she panicked. ¡°Eliza, talk to me! Where¡¯d Jack and Rachel go?!" Carol continued. ¡°This is all your fault, Eliza!¡± They didn''t know it, but the phenomenon had a name¡ªStress Blooming.

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    The two children later found themselves in a grassy meadow, the sun beating brightly down upon them. Instead of the big city they had come from, the place they were now in was full of small, cozy-looking houses shrouded by dark trees whose leaves created a canopy that obstructed light from touching the forest floor mere feet away from them. The children recoiled back in awe as they admired their new surroundings¡ªit was wondrous, like something from a fairy tale. By the time they were finished gawking, many of the townspeople had come out and formed a circle around the two children, muttering furiously as if discussing what to do with them.

    A loud voice broke through the hushed hum of whispers: ¡°Someone call Cornelius!¡± But there was no need to formally call the man; the simple mention of doing so had brought him out of his hut. The man, in a long flowing robe, had an aged face with a distinct lack of wrinkles, complimented by a rich, white, luxuriant beard. It was impossible to discern the color of the man''s hair, as it was concealed by a huge mushroom stationed over his head. ¡°It worked!¡± exclaimed Cornelius as he pushed past the growing group of people to get to the bewildered children. He crouched down in front of them before their shock had the chance to diminish, picking them up by the collar of their clothes and holding them up to show the rest of the village. Embroidered in the collars of the children were their names, in a language foreign to anyone from this world. ¡°These here are Outsiders, just like me! Rachel and Jack! This is proof my wish worked! Now, who wants to take care of them?¡± Cornelius asked, reading the opaque language flawlessly as he looked out into the crowd expectantly.

    The crowd fell silent. No one made a move to accept the offer. Agreeing to raise children on a whim was a reckless decision for anyone to make, especially when the circumstances of their existence were unusual¡ªand Cornelius himself, being well into his 60s, wasn¡¯t suited for the task. After several moments of awkward silence, one man stepped up. He was wearing a dark, rugged leather apron and thick gloves, and his body was covered with soot and burn marks. He made a low grunt as he maneuvered through the circle of people, raising one of his muscular arms while his thick boots stomped out the grass below. ¡°I can take one. I ain¡¯t got nothing much better to do with my free time, and I got the money for it ¡®cause I¡¯m a blacksmith," the man said. Cornelious smiled, tossing the redheaded girl towards him. He cradled the remaining child with both of his hands.

    The blacksmith caught her safely, muttering something under his breath about Cornelius¡¯ sanity before carrying her on his shoulder and marching home through the mass of people. ¡°Rachel Red,¡± he stated aptly, giving her an immediate surname based upon her most prominent feature¡ªher red hair. The blacksmith took Rachel to his home, but not before a short detour to the library, where he picked up a book titled ¡°Parenting 101.¡± Meanwhile, a line of Excuse Me''s was heard as another figure¡ªa townswoman¡ªmade her way to Cornelius the Child Tosser. She moved elegantly as her flowing green gown swished and swirled. Her proximity, which ensured that a thrown child would be at much less risk, was a testament to her diligence. ¡°Give him to me. I can¡¯t let that blacksmith one up me," she said, her arms outstretched. Cornelius nodded, handing her the boy, Jack. She, too, gave him a last name, Royalis, which was inspired by the fancy design of the clothes he was wearing. ¡°You¡¯re my little prince now,¡± the townswoman cooed.

 Chapter 2: Stress Blooming Rose

    12 years later

    Jack Royalis leaned over the door of the blacksmith¡¯s shop, where the smell of burning and tangy metals constantly lingered, pressing his forearm into the top of the door frame as he put the rest of his weight into it. He was a rather large teenager, with dirty blonde hair that was brought forward by gravity and partly obscured his eyes. Growing bored of waiting, Jack tapped his foot impatiently. He was clothed in a plain, oversized beige shirt and drawstring pants. The acrid aroma of the house was replaced by the sweet scent of strawberry as the front door swung open. It would have been a pleasant break had Jack not known who it belonged to¡ªRachel Red, his childhood friend, and the girl that had dropped from England with him when they were both five.

    Rachel was always prudent about her presence, but not enough to own more than one brand of perfume, which made her easily recognizable. ¡°Jack! Hi!¡± Rachel exclaimed, ecstatically throwing her arms over her friend''s neck. Her expensive gold stud earrings jingled with her buoyant movements. ¡°You kept me waiting again, El,¡± Jack replied in an enervated tone, tilting his head away from the embrace but still wrapping around her with his arms. Rachel stuck her tongue out in response. "That¡¯s because beauty takes time!¡±

    ¡°Whatever. We should get going now. I don¡¯t want to be late for the first day of school." Jack averted his eyes from hers and pulled away. Rachel sighed, letting go of him before stepping forwards in the direction of their destination. ¡°Fineee, but you could be a little more enthusiastic about seeing your best friend, you know?¡± she said, dramatically flipping her red hair and swishing her head back to glare at him. ¡°Don¡¯t need to when I see her every day,¡± Jack mumbled. He¡¯d quickly catch up to her.

    They began their path to Holard Magic Academy, an institution whose name was likely inspired by the town it was located in¡ªthe warm and welcoming Hoal Town. This was the first day of the school year; it was the 23rd year in a row that the magic school was opening its doors. The school was relatively new, but it was doing very well for itself, especially considering how most of its management was done by one person. Jack and Rachel reached the widened school gates after crossing numerous lively streets. Ahead of them were huge dark oak doors that looked so heavy it was difficult to imagine how closing them was even possible. Tons of students siphoned into the entrance; some were native to Hoal, while others were from varying parts of the world. Regardless, they had all come here for one reason: to study under what had so quickly become a prestigious institution.

    Jack placed his open hand over his eyes, shielding them from the sun as he looked at the influx of students pouring into the school. He dropped his hand down to his pocket and pulled out his acceptance letter along with an informative paper that contained his schedule and a map of the school.

    ¡°Who do you have for your homeroom?¡± Jack inquired, glancing over at Rachel.

    She smiled, shouting, ¡°Mr. Brewer, same as you!¡±

    Jack drooped his eyelids exasperatedly, covering half of his eyes. ¡°I never told you that,¡± he said.

    Rachel brought a finger up to her lips, her green eyes glittering as she tilted her head. ¡°And you didn¡¯t have to! I memorized it back when you showed me the acceptance letter.¡±

    He looked back at her quietly before turning towards the doors again and muttering, ¡°Let¡¯s just go before we miss the first period.¡±

    They walked through the gates and climbed up the winding stairs, trying to stay focused on getting to class timely while also leaving room for wonder as they admired the place''s grandiosity. Every hall was lined with huge windows, and the sights outside were breathtaking. The pair wished they had gotten here earlier so they¡¯d have had time to wander aimlessly around the halls and continue gaping. Due to Rachel¡¯s lack of sense of direction, Jack carried the map, guiding her every time her attention was diverted from the main route until they finally arrived at the classroom.

    The classroom seemed bigger than most. It had an expertly carved door that was darker than the others in the school. They opened it and saw a man, who they could only assume was their teacher, resting sideways on his desk. He was wearing a huge, dark coffee-colored coat, with winding details of a very light brown around its edges, three nearly-black diamond shapes that stretched around the torso area, and a greatly exaggerated collar. His dark brown hair stood at an odd mix of messy and neat, with its texture being a blend between curly and straight, yet not wavy. He had coffee-colored skin, round-frame glasses that sat loosely on his face, and very noticeable eye bags.

    The man heard the two coming in and raised a gloved hand to bring his coffee mug to his lips, taking a long sip as his eyes gazed at them. ¡°Mr. Brewer?¡± Rachel tentatively inquired. The man nodded affirmingly. ¡°Take a seat. Class is about to begin.¡± His tone was neither welcoming nor harsh, and he didn¡¯t look a day over thirty, but he sounded much older. He was an enigma. Rachel gulped, unnerved by the teacher. She made her way towards an empty chair¡ªin front of a light-skinned student with a silver-lined brown open blazer hanging from his shoulders, pitch-black pants following the same scheme, and sharp hair that resembled the sporadically white quills of a porcupine. Jack, on the other hand, was unaffected, sitting beside Rachel without the slightest delay. His seat was positioned in front of a girl with deep, purple hair who was dozing off on the hardwood of her desk.

    The class sat in silence for a few more minutes, watching the dormant teacher. Mr. Brewer''s eyes had a hazy, tired look as he stared into the wall behind the students silently. Even when the bell rang to signal the beginning of the class, he remained taciturn, leisurely finishing his coffee and unperturbed about starting class. The students each surmised their own answer regarding the teacher''s arcane nature, attempting to decipher his mysteriousness. However, the instant whispers began spreading and the veil of silence was lifted, Mr. Brewer set down his emptied mug on the dark mahogany table, the distinct sound of it tapping on the wood slicing through the voices. Having captured the class¡¯ attention, he stood up.

    ¡°Good morning, class. For the first day, we¡¯ll start with something tame. It¡¯ll just be a field test of your magic types," Mr. Brewer said in a heavy voice, his penny loafers clacking against the hard tile floor below. The announcement was met with pleasant murmurs and interest¡ªbut they were interrupted by the porcupine-haired kid, who rose to his feet and asked, ¡°Wait¡ªField test? How¡¯s that supposed to work?¡± The other students in the class followed his thought process, and while they were wondering how checking one magic type would correlate to a field test, Mr. Brewer called out, ¡°Heads up!¡± Heads all around the room swiveled, searching for the possible threat. The teacher, however, had disappeared. Then came a large crash!

    As the students refocused, they saw Mr. Brewer lunging towards Jack, his arm stretched out with the hilt of a knife in his hands. Jack held his arms up protectively, reflexively coating them with magic, but he fell back from his seat, his chair falling flat to the ground below. When the knife made contact, it instantly shattered. Composing himself again, Jack was unsure of what was going on; his teacher had just tried to stab him.

    Instead of showing any real reaction to what seemed to be a failed assassination attempt, Mr. Brewer simply said, loud enough for the class to hear, ¡°Raw Magic!¡±

    The realization of what the test truly was set into the students. The noise of chairs crashing onto the floor echoed throughout the room. No one wanted to be caught off guard.

    Mr. Brewer carried on, ignoring the shattered knife. His feet, graciously floating over Jack¡¯s desk, had yet to touch the ground. He pointed his hand towards the porcupine-haired boy, causing the shards of broken metal to fly into the sky and launch themselves towards him. Yet, despite being the first to question the situation, his reaction to being targeted was careless. He flinched, bringing his face back fearfully as his hands swayed out. ¡°Wait! Hollup, I wasn¡¯t ready. This ain¡¯t fai-!¡± His sentence was interrupted by the rapidly increasing temperature of the air in front of him. The boy''s deep focus on survival was pushing his body to instinctively shape mana, but his inimical whining was obstructing him from it.

    As the shards were about to rip through his arm like buckshot, the burst of magic created a plume of flames that stopped the thin metal in its tracks as all the shards all fell to the ground softer than before. ¡°Awesome!¡± the boy cried out, looking down at his own hands. He could still see a small flickering spark that didn¡¯t hurt him¡ªa residue of the accidental spell. His excitement was short-lived, though, because he soon heard ¡°Fire!¡± coming from way closer than he remembered it, and then he felt a vise grip around his wrist. The boy¡¯s burning, hot hands were dragged against his will and thrown towards the purple-haired girl beside him. His eyes widened as he realized he was so outclassed, even in a matter of physicality, that he couldn¡¯t stop himself from landing on her body and inadvertently hurting her. His breath grew shallow; he felt so powerless at that moment. "Sorry!" he said.

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    The girl shrieked, raising her arms in a fluid motion. The motion she performed was followed by a thick column of water¡ªone which Mr. Brewer easily dodged, but his airborne student couldn¡¯t. Both the drenched boy and the purple-haired girl fell to the ground, his wet, porcupine-like hair flattening. ¡°Water!¡± barked Brewer, locking on to another student. ¡°Earth!¡±

    Rachel looked around nervously. Her turn hadn¡¯t come yet, even though she was in the front of the classroom. She felt paralyzed by the circumstance; it was a test, so she couldn¡¯t run, and she didn''t know when he would come for her, so she couldn¡¯t prepare. The situation was comparable to a prisoner awaiting his execution. ¡°Fire! Wind! Water!¡± Brewer continued. Rachel zoned out the stern callings of magic types, focusing only on her own dread. She rested her hand on the closest desk, digging her nails in and dragging them across the wooden top. No scratches were visible, which worsened her anxiety.

    Rachel heard the flutter of a cape¡ªMr. Brewer was coming. She stepped backwards, hitting her chair. She knew she couldn¡¯t outpace him, so she turned her head around to glance at what lay behind it. Overwhelmed by indecisiveness, she brought both her hands up to her face, grabbing the bottom of her jaw as her fingers curled over it¡ªa mix of anguish and fear. ¡°STAY AWAY!¡± Rachel yelled, closing her eyes in fear of the consequences if she was unable to perform magic in the same way as her classmates. Then suddenly, the room fell deathly quiet¡ªno sounds of motion or words uttered. Rachel slowly fluttered her eyes open. As her sight returned, she noticed she couldn¡¯t immediately see the classroom anymore; she saw green, fleshy¡ªin the way plant stems are¡ªwalls covering the area around her. From the outside, Rachel was enclosed circularly by thorny branches that soon ruptured apart.

    Brewer¡¯s hand, which had been dangerously close to connecting, was caught in the range of Rachel¡¯s accidental spell. A small streak of blood ran down his pricked fist. His attention would be stolen by the blooming of a striking red rose from one of the thorny branches. He scoffed. The spell was known as Rosebush, and Rachel had undergone so much stress that her feelings carried into the conjuring of the spell. Mr. Brewer sighed. ¡°Nature!¡± he said, relieved that, at the very least, his clothes were intact.

    He had purposely left Rachel for last after realizing she was different from the rest, different in the same way Jack was¡ªthey were both outliers, but their personalities were the reason for the specific targeting order. Brewer turned away from the branches before him, holding out his hand to trigger a counterspell that made them vanish. With nothing holding her up, Rachel fell down. Brewer walked back to the front of the classroom, sitting atop his desk, his arms each grabbing one side of it. ¡°Good job on your first assignment class. I understand this may have been stressful for some of you, but nothing grows without stress,¡± he stated, the shaken classroom having another period of odd silence.

    Finally, a snarky voice broke from the back of the classroom. ¡°What was the point of that?! Couldn¡¯t you have just sensed our magic types like a normal person?!¡± she complained.

    Brewer rolled his eyes, pushing his glasses up on his face as he crossed his legs. ¡°I could¡¯ve, but that would have been easy. You wouldn¡¯t have gotten a feel of what using magic is really like, and unrealistic expectations would have been set for the rest of the class,¡± he said calmly.

    ¡°Bullshit! That was super unnecessary! You just wanted an excuse to beat up children or something. My parents will be complaining to the principal!¡± the girl continued.

    ¡°Go for it. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever read a complaint about myself before. It might be a fun read, I suppose¡ªoh, right! I never told you guys my full name, did I? I may be your teacher, but I am also Clover Holard Brewer, founder and principal of Holard Magic Academy. Nice to meet you, 23rd advanced class,¡± Brewer replied, resting his head on his closed fist as he maintained a serene smile.

    After dropping that bombshell, Brewer was confident the student wouldn¡¯t try to keep up the argument. He was exempt from any trouble within these walls, after all.

    ¡°Wait, advanced class?¡± asked the purple-haired girl. ¡°I don¡¯t remember entering in anything like that.¡±

    ¡°Correct. Every year, I pick out the students I believe have the most potential and place them all in my class. That way, they can get the proper teaching they need,¡± Brewer explained.

    And before anyone could protest the ethics of such a practice, the lunch bell rang.

    The whole class¡ªincluding the two Outsiders¡ªrushed to the door, exiting hastily. And while Rachel would have liked to survey the school¡¯s halls before getting lunch, the tempo at which everyone had bound towards the cafeteria made her reconsider. She looked down, pouting at the stressful ordeal and the lack of exploration the schedule allowed. Jack¡¯s eyes wandered, catching a glimpse of Rachel¡¯s indignation. "Relax, El. We have a long break after this, so we can go explore after we get something to eat,¡± he said. ¡°Wait, really?! Yay!!!¡± Rachel responded, regaining the pep in her steps as they turned the corner.

    The cafeteria had huge, circular, medieval-style doors that complemented the dramatics of the entrance gates. The wooden boards that made up the doors split seamlessly at any attempt to open them. Inside the cafeteria was a vibe disparate from the gloomy medieval architecture. The tiles on the floor were a glorious white, and the large windows weren¡¯t stained in any way, letting the morning light enter without hindrance and creating a much brighter, more traditional school environment. There were also round tables that had attached benches; their craftsmanship paled in comparison to other woodworks around the school.

    ¡°Hmph¡ªnot even sure if I want to look at the rest of the school after seeing this place," Rachel said disappointedly, crossing her arms as she walked to the lunch line. She was visibly disillusioned. Jack shook his head as he came up behind her with a soft smile, his sole concern at the moment being the taste of the food. The line moved slowly until they reached the long buffet-style strip in which the singular food option on the menu was offered. For the first day of school, it was Hawaiian Tusk meat with Dragon Fruit juice. Jack had never eaten Hawaiian Tusk in his life; his mother had always argued they were too cute for consumption. However, his own beliefs wildly differed from hers. Hawaiian Tusks were big¡ªover 10 feet tall¡ªhulking beasts of pure muscle that resembled pigs. They had black and white spotted fur and nice, even bangs, but they also had giant ivory tusks that they used to spear through and disembowel enemies. The word "grotesque" suited them better.

    So, Jack accepted the slice of food unresistingly, nodding in gratitude as he was handed the glass of Dragon Fruit juice, which he placed on his tray. Rachel, on the other hand, had no familial qualms about the food. Hawaiian Tusk was a common meal around her house; her dad often participated in Hawaiian Tusk hunting season. She was experienced with the meat¡¯s toughness and the sweet, spicy sauces that it naturally came with.

    Rachel smiled back at Jack, who was sporting a placid expression, as they both detached from the line, their trays in their hands. ¡°Look! It¡¯s the kid with a porcupine on his head, and the girl he almost assaulted!¡± she exclaimed, pointing a hand towards a nearby lunch table. ¡°That¡¯s his hair, El. And I¡¯m positive they have names,¡± Jack managed, confused by her assessment of the two. The food he was holding inhibited him from palming his face.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go talk to them!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather we sit alone.¡±

    ¡°Come on, Jack!¡±

    ¡°El, I said¡ª¡±

    Despite Jack¡¯s protests, Rachel hurried to her classmates, forcing him to reluctantly follow.

    As the pair reached the table, the boy¡¯s unusual hair enthralled Rachel¡¯s attention yet again. Now that it had begun to dry, it was a blend between curly and straight¡ªyet not wavy. Rachel gregariously chirped, ¡°Heya! Can we sit with you guys?¡± The Porcupine kid turned his head, which rested on his fist. His legs were crossed, calf over knee. ¡°Sure, Rosebush girl from our class, right?¡± he questioned, raising an eyebrow at her. Rachel gave a thumbs up, setting her tray next to his and settling down. Jack refrained from doing the same.

    ¡°That¡¯s me! I¡¯m Rachel, by the way, but all my friends call me El,¡± she said as she finally sat on the bench, striking up a smile and holding her arm out. "What friends?" Jack muttered quietly under his breath. The Porcupine boy slid his hand into hers, shaking it with a wide grin. ¡°I¡¯m Lafayette!¡± The name sent an unexplainable chill down Rachel''s spine. Shaking off the feeling, she averted her gaze to Jack, drawn by the sound of his tray finally being set on the table. ¡°And I¡¯m Jack. Nice to meet you,¡± he said wryly. Lafayette stretched his arm for a dap. Jack took it¡ªa pop as their hands hooked together. A small smirk formed over Jack¡¯s face, and Laffayette¡¯s widened.

    The purple-haired girl, who was yet to introduce herself, set her arm flat on the table, laying her head against it. ¡°I feel slightly offended. No one¡¯s asked for my name," she said, obviously being sarcastic. As she made her remark, the volume of the table would dwindle into silence, waiting for her to introduce herself¡ªuntil Laffayette spoke out. ¡°Oh, come on. Don¡¯t be like that, Kana! We were just getting to you." ¡°Hush!¡± Kana yelled loudly, standing up straight and patting the dust off her shirt. She smiled at Jack and Rachel. ¡°I¡¯m Kanashimi! But you guys can just call me Kana.¡± Rachel and Jack were stunned by her capricious personality. She had shifted from lethargic to fierce to friendly in a matter of seconds. Rachel blinked, reinvigorating her senses, and vivaciously said, ¡°Hey girl! Put him in his place.¡± She put her hand up for a high five, which Kana provided. Lafayette rolled his eyes, trying not to take any offense.

    The group continued chatting, conversation easily flowing along until everyone finished their meals and departed for the next class.

 Chapter 3: Bow, Brush, Backdrop, Ball

    Around 30 minutes later

    After finishing their meal, they still had roughly 30 minutes left in their lunch break. While an hour-long lunch break was unusual in some parts, the school¡¯s longer-than-average schedules made up for the time lost, and lengthy breaks were believed to improve morale. Rachel had proposed the idea of exploring the halls before lunch officially ended. Naturally, there were no objections from Jack, and the other two displayed alacrity towards the proposal as well¡ªboth for their own reasons. So, the newly formed group set out to inspect the school¡¯s intriguing architecture. They ascended a winding wooden staircase to the third floor, intending to reach the auditorium balcony and peer down at the large performing arts center below. As they made their way there, miscellaneous chatter ensued.

    ¡°By the way, I love your nails, El. Ever since I arrived, I''ve never seen anyone around Hoal with that type, and it¡¯s a nice color too," Kana said, stepping off the last set of stairs onto the third floor.

    Rachel outstretched her hand and looked down at her nails. She recalled the reason she had painted them in such a hue.

    ¡°Oh! Thank you! I got them like this because it was the same color as Jack¡¯s eyes. I tried to convince him to get his painted green so we¡¯d be matching, but he didn¡¯t budge on it." Rachel shrugged, seemingly unbothered by her friend¡¯s lack of cooperation.

    ¡°Whaaat?! No, he didn¡¯t! I¡¯ll tell you what: next time we should match instead. You get your nails a reddish brown, and I¡¯ll get mine green,¡± Lafayette interjected, breaking away from the conversation he had been in with Jack. A wide smile was splayed across his face¡ªone that would soon be broken.

    ¡°Are you a fucking homo?¡± asked Jack as Kana elbowed Lafayette from behind, pushing him forward to break his composure. She shook her head disappointedly.

    ¡°Don¡¯t blame Jack for not being gay like you. And don¡¯t listen to him, El. Match with me instead! A darker blue is way better than a reddish brown." Saying that last part made Kana cringe at herself.

    Lafayette¡¯s mahogany eye color suited Rachel¡¯s hair more, but she wouldn¡¯t be caught dead admitting that. Regardless, before Rachel could respond, Kana hooked her arm into hers, smiling with a face that showed she wasn¡¯t willing to take "no" for an answer.

    As Rachel struggled to voice her decision, she heard a thud nearby, prompting her to instinctively turn. ¡°Watch where you¡¯re going, stupid Rawshal,¡± said the boy that had bumped into Jack. Jack recognized him and the brown-haired girl that was next to him. They all shared the same homeroom. However, Jack''s focus was drawn to what he had been called: "Rawshal." It was a derogatory term for those who had Raw Magic, as Raw Magic was an unorthodox genetic mutation. Anyone that possessed it was often looked down upon and stigmatized.

    Jack wasn''t angered, though; his placidness remained unperturbed. He was fully ready to let the whole situation go, but just as he was about to walk away, he heard Rachel pipe up from behind him.

    ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t call him that! What gives you the right?!¡± she said, aggressively pointing at the incendiary. In response, the boy shoved Jack aside, his eyes narrowing on Rachel as his grip on the girl beside him loosened. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I could have sworn a stupid bitch just interrupted me. Did I hear that right?¡± He exhaled in a gruff tone. With his head held high, he was tall enough to tower over Rachel. A chill ran up the red-haired girl''s spine. She took a half-step back, and her eyes widened in fear as she pulled Kana closer.

    The aggressor¡¯s hands were concealed in his pockets, but the veins around his forearms were bulging conspicuously. A moment later, from his peripheral vision, he spotted a knee heading straight for his chin. When it connected, his head flew up, knocking him off balance. He awkwardly waddled backwards, falling into the wall of lockers behind. The thunderous sound of human muscle colliding with hollow metal echoed through the halls.

    ¡°Yeah, I''m pretty sure I heard that too, except that same stupid bitch also interrupted a girl," Jack said, maintaining a piercing gaze as he lowered his leg.

    ¡°Tom!¡± exclaimed the brunette.

    Tom ran his hand over his mouth, his eyes glaring as he regained his stature. With his mind guided by vindictive anger, Tom prepared to start a full-out fight with Jack.

    Meanwhile, Lafayette sneaked over to the brunette, placing his arm around her shoulders and nonconsensually dragging her along. ¡°Oh my god, girl, I love your hair.¡± He continued to push her¡ªhis eyes flirtatiously locked onto hers and his mouth confidently widened¡ªuntil they reached the theater balcony, where he swiveled the knob to unlock the door. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I know this place like the back of my hand. My mom used to take me here whenever she left for work... before I started attending school, at least. By the way, I didn¡¯t catch your name.¡±

    "Uhm¡ªokay? I¡¯m Daisy¡­ But shouldn¡¯t we be worried about what''s going on back there?¡± The uncomfortable brunette ignored his irrelevant comments and quickly gave a look backwards before Lafayette gripped her shoulder, making her turn to face forward once again.

    ¡±Call me Lafayette, and you shouldn¡¯t be so concerned. Trust me, they¡¯ll hug it out soon enough. Oh! I know! You know what would complete your look right now? My jacket!¡± He took off his blazer-style jacket, draping it over the girl¡¯s shoulders. It had an intricate yet flamboyant design consisting of an array of silver flame symbols. ¡°Come on, put your arms through!¡±

    Daisy reluctantly heeded his words, sliding the blazer inwards and looking out to the theater below as they walked out on the balcony. She had never been here before; it was indescribably breathtaking. The theater was three stories tall. The wood carving looked personal and handmade, and the polished stage and pillars that held the curtains whole looked fresh despite having been around for 23 years.

    Her eyes sparkled, forgetting about the uncomfortable situation for a second, as Lafayette directed her to the corner of the balcony. He moved his arm across the horizon, showing the theater like he was trying to sell it. ¡°Beautiful, isn¡¯t it?¡± Lafayette''s other hand furtively pulled the stage hook from where it was caught flush with the wall. He had been coming here since he was a child, watching every play to ever take place¡ªyet, in that time, he had never seen the hook actually being used.

    Lafayette slipped the hook onto his jacket''s hanging loop, making sure to maintain his secrecy while upholding a pleasant smile. ¡°Yes, it is. It really is.¡± Daisy nodded, leaning over the balcony to get a better view. Lafayette then swiveled around to face the two boys brawling near the open door behind them. ¡°Jack! Tom! Check this out!¡± he shouted. The flurry of fists stopped momentarily. Jack and Tom diverted their attention to the eccentric theater kid, as did Daisy, who had snapped her head towards him, before she felt his hand push her off the ledge. The sky and ground swapped positions, and she fell head-first down to the hardwood floor three stories below.

    ¡°Daisy!¡± Tom exclaimed, manhandling Jack off himself as he broke into a sprint, firmly grabbing the railing before looking down. However, he was too late¡ªor he would have been, had Lafayette not flicked the lever that stopped the hook¡¯s rope from giving slack about halfway through, which meant Daisy was now dangling upright around the second floor. ¡°Help! Help me, Tom!¡±

    ¡°Shit, dude. You¡¯re stupidly insane!¡± Tom said.

    "Oh, what the hell?¡± Jack muttered incredulously, having run after Tom.

    ¡°Lafayette! Wha-how-what?!¡± Rachel questioned, arriving with her arm still inextricably locked with Kana¡¯s.

    "Okay, I gotta give it to him. That¡¯s a pretty cool way to stop a fight,¡± Kana added on.

    Daisy gulped in fear. She could feel the jacket digging into her armpits and loosening, as if she was on the verge of dropping.

    ¡°Quit staring, you stupid dumbasses! We¡¯ve got to pull her up!¡± commanded Tom.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    ¡°As much as I hate to agree, he¡¯s right," replied Jack.

    All eyes were laid on Lafayette, the one who apparently knew how this whole system worked. He sighed, shaking his head as he opened a small trap door that was usually nearly flush with the wall, right beside where he had gotten the hook from. There rested the rope that fed the hook.

    ¡°All right. If you want her back, get to pulling,¡± he said to the two. They both nodded, moving forward. They grabbed the rope tightly and tugged down, but it didn¡¯t seem to move¡ªnot even to budge slightly¡ªas if there was something locking it. Jack and Tom looked at Lafayette.

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± he said dismissively, rolling his eyes as he released the lever. A shriek came from below. Daisy had fallen several more feet. The two boys finally managed to get a complete grasp over her after pulling the rope down again¡ªone hand at a time¡ªuntil she rose to the level of the balcony. Once there, the hook on the jacket Daisy was wearing was removed by Kana and tossed at Lafayette aggressively. ¡°It may have been badass, but don¡¯t do shit like that again,¡± she said, reprimanding his behavior. ¡°Noted. I¡¯ll do something more high-stakes next time,¡± Lafayette joked mischievously, wrapping himself with his coat and sauntering towards the open door of the balcony. Rachel fell to her knees with Daisy, placing a hand on her shoulder as she bombarded her with questions like, ¡°Are you okay?¡± ¡°Does it hurt anywhere?¡± ¡°Do you feel faint?¡± and so on. The two boys also took a seat on the ground, huffing from their exertion.

    ¡°The bell¡¯s about to ring,¡± Lafayette warned.

    After leaving the theater balcony, they separated to get to their respective classes. Kana and Rachel went one way for art and orchestra, Jack and Lafayette went downstairs for gym and theater, and Daisy and Tom departed elsewhere.

    ¡°Who do you have for PE?" Lafayette inquired, walking downstairs alongside Jack, both feigning ignorance of Lafayette¡¯s earlier stunt.

    Jack glanced at his schedule. ¡°Ms. Wanderbout. Weird ass last name, but apart from that, I''m not sure it¡¯d be different from any other gym class."

    ¡°Vanderbout. It¡¯s pronounced Vanderbout.¡±

    ¡°Huh? How did you know?¡±

    ¡°''Cause it¡¯s my last name.¡±

    ¡°Oh! My gym teacher is your mom?!¡±

    ¡°The one and only.¡±

    ¡°Give me two weeks and you¡¯ll have a new stepdad,¡± Jack said, smiling playfully as they reached a fork in the hallway.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make you ¡®fall over¡¯ like I did to Daisy, but you won¡¯t get the hook courtesy. Anyways, see you later, bro,¡± Lafayette said nonchalantly, holding his hand out for the second dap in one hour.

    "See you,¡± Jack responded, welcoming the gesture with his own hand, and nodded before they both went their separate ways.

    #

    Rachel shifted uncomfortably in her seat, tugging the collar of her shirt. She felt trapped. She was in a setting she had despised since she was little¡ªan orchestra classroom.

    Rachel began to flashback to eight years prior, when a traveling bard had come to town. The bard¡¯s music was rumored to be pleasant, and he played for an astonishingly cheap price, so her dad had agreed to let her go just once. Afterwards, Rachel was absolutely enamored with music. Her ensuing conversations would always involve a garrulous mention of it. It became so noxious that her father gave in and bought her a violin. At first, Rachel was thrilled. However, the wonder quickly wore off as the true hardships of playing such an instrument dawned on her, leaving her regretting having ever opened her mouth. She attempted to forsake the violin countless times, but her father was persistent. He insisted she was exceptional and that it helped her development. Rachel had surmised that he just didn¡¯t want the money used to purchase the instrument to go to waste. Ever since, music has been a topic of trauma for her¡ªeven faint melodies could trigger harrowing memories.

    Rachel crossed her legs, tuning out the speaking teacher before her. She slid an arm down to her lap and held her head up with her hand. The teacher then started going around asking which instrument they knew how to play or wanted to learn. Rachel wasn¡¯t particularly attentive; her gaze was directed to the window to her left as her leg trembled with stress, and she was oblivious to the teacher''s approach.

    ¡°And you?¡± the teacher asked, smiling softly. There was a pen in his fingers that tapped the clipboard he held in a predictable pattern.

    ¡°Huh?¡± Rachel asked, snapping back to reality.

    ¡°Instrument?¡± The teacher repeated, his voice laced with concern.

    ¡°Huh? Oh, right... Violin." The teacher scribbled on his clipboard and moved to the next student. Rachel sighed, zoning out again. ¡°This class freaking stinks.¡±

    Lafayette¡¯s mother did not look like him¡ªthat was the first thing Jack noticed. She had straight, dark brown hair, almost dark enough to be black. Their skin tones also matched, but that was where the physical similarities ended. And while his priorities weren''t as salacious as he had joked, that didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t intrigued by their connection.

    ¡°Alright kids, time to run the track. For the first day: one mile!¡± The teacher¡¯s cheerful announcement was followed by groans of annoyance that reverberated through the gymnasium.

    Heading out to the track, Jack pushed through the hoard of students, overhearing their conversations in the process. His uninterested ears ignored most of the chit-chatter, but one line did catch his attention: ¡°Fucking Rawshal, making us run day one, what a bitch." He recognized that word; the same slur had been used against him earlier. Based on its usage here, Jack guessed that the gym teacher had Raw Magic as well. ¡°He has Fire Magic, and his mom has Raw Magic, so his dad must have Fire Magic too, then, right? Yeah, there¡¯s no other way.¡±

    It was reassuring to know that someone could relate to him. With new-found appreciation for his teacher, Jack would do the unthinkable and take the mile assignment seriously, running as hard as he could and making it within the allotted time frame easily.

    After the midday electives, the students returned to Brewer¡¯s class to be taught the core subjects. They finished the day with math, language, ancient elvish, and history all back to back. Brewer was nice enough the second time they had him, much less passionate or violent when it came to these subjects. The rest of the day dragged on until the sweet clangor of the bell finally rang, liberating the class from Brewer¡¯s humdrum lectures.

    ¡°The ¡®Ysh-¡¯ root in Yshaulkadera means lizard at face value. With context, however, it¡¯s often understood as a magical, large lizard,¡± Brewer would be saying before he was cut off by the bell. He sighed, going silent, aware that it would be meaningless to talk further.

    The group reunited, walking down the halls together before they got out the doors of the school, where their paths split. ¡°Bye Laffy! Bye Kana! Stay safe!¡± waved Rachel. From behind her, Jack also waved. ¡°You too! Stay safe!¡± Kana and Lafayette responded as they left.

    Rachel instantly slumped, succumbing to her weariness. ¡°Ugh, first day of school, and I already want it to be over," she grumbled. The duo strolled back to the way they had come, seeing the small, compact, painted clay houses that were visually less glamorous now that they weren''t gaping at them through the school''s lofty windows.

    Their enthusiasm had completely swapped: Rachel didn¡¯t utter another word, keeping to herself for the rest of the walk. Jack did have something to say but kept quiet, not wanting to exacerbate her moment of brooding.

    Finally, they reached the blacksmith¡¯s house. The same, dusty smell of the abode that hung around in the morning still lingered in the afternoon. Jack was positive the miasma would stick around even if the place was demolished.

    As Rachel stepped up to the door, she straightened herself, turning around and throwing her arms around Jack.

    ¡°Bye. Let¡¯s meet again tomorrow, Jack,¡± she said, her voice muffled from her face pressing against his shoulder.

    He returned her hug. ¡°We always do, El. And cheer up. One bad class won¡¯t ruin your year,¡± Jack said, pulling away and leaving Rachel startled by his correct assessment of her situation.

    ¡°Fine, I will.¡¯ Rachel opened the door and stepped into the house. There was a familiar, unrelenting sound of metal being hammered coming from deeper inside. She took off her shoes, sighing as she walked through the desolate house to find her dad working with a sword on an anvil.

    Before acknowledging her presence, he dipped the glowing, hot blade into a barrel of cold water to harden it.

    ¡°Hey, dad,¡± Rachel said casually, leaning against the side of the door frame. Her dad began removing his gloves and apron as he approached.

    ¡°Hey, El. How was school today, honey?¡± he inquired, wrapping his arms around her to squeeze her tightly.

    ¡°It was alright. They¡¯re forcing me to play violin, but that aside, I made some friends.¡± She refrained from hugging back, waiting for his embrace to end.

    "Great to hear. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll get used to it. Maybe you¡¯ll even come to like it again,¡± he said, moving to the forge, where the weapon was waiting. ¡°I¡¯ll be here a little longer to finish this order. Feel free to get a snack from the kitchen."

    Rachel only nodded.

    Jack had gone home after dropping Rachel off. As soon as he started to twist the knob, the door swung open to reveal his boisterous mother. He felt her grab the contour of his jaw, pulling him down to peck his cheek. ¡°Jack! Hi honey! So¡­ What was my little prince¡¯s first day of magic school like?¡± she asked vivaciously, an expectant, wonderstruck gleam in her eyes.

    Jack was too enervated to deal with her boundless quantities of energy. ¡°I made some new friends,¡± he said, keeping the conversation short.

    ¡°I see, I see. How¡¯s Rachel doing?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s fine, just a little bummed is all.¡±

    ¡°Aw, that¡¯s too bad. Tell her I give her my best wishes!¡±

    She returned to the kitchen, where the soothing aroma of home-cooked food was permeating the air.

    ¡°Dinner¡¯s almost ready, by the way!¡±

    ¡°Any Hawaiian Tusk this time?¡±

    ¡°Jack Royalis!!¡±

    ¡°¡ªJust kidding, mom.¡±

 Chapter 4: The Green Light

    <h2 style="text-align: center">Chapter 4: The Green Light</h2>

    The next day, Lafayette found himself sitting across from Brewer. Instead of the spacious classroom, this meeting took place in Brewer¡¯s cramped office. He had gotten to school earlier than any other student due to his mother being a teacher, but he was pulled away from her by his eccentric teacher and ushered into a study barely bigger than a walk-in closet.

    Bookshelves lined every wall in the room, imposing a sense of banality on those who resided inside. The shelves were filled with an array of books, each designed in the same brown shade, and Brewer¡¯s wooden desk was plastered with journals and novels as broad as the ones he kept in his classroom.

    After taking a long sip, Brewer set his coffee mug on one of the books scattered on his table. The mug¡¯s handle faced the chair where he was seated, his head hanging high like a crane after rising from its plumage.

    Brewer¡¯s finger circled the lip of the mug as his dark, umber eyes focused on the boy before him. The sharpness of his gaze stabbed through Lafayette.

    ¡°You tossed a girl off the theater balcony yesterday,¡± he said matter-of-factly, so bluntly that it left no room for Lafayette to object.

    Lafayette shifted in his seat, gulping as he tugged on his collar. The audacity required for Tom¡ªor Daisy¡ªto report a fight they had instigated was profound.

    ¡°I, uh... She was held up by the hook! I knew she wouldn¡¯t die!¡± That was all he could defend himself with. In truth, there was no justification for his actions.

    Brewer¡¯s cloak swished around as he stood up and turned to the bookshelves.

    "Listen, kid. I don¡¯t care anymore. If I had caught you in the moment, I probably would have done something, but it¡¯s pointless to bother with it now. Just don''t go around attempting murder, or else I¡¯ll have to start banning you from things...or something. Now, get lost.¡±

    Lafayette sat there, his mouth agape. He hadn¡¯t expected to get out of trouble so easily. He looked at Brewer again, mulling over his own incredulity.

    ¡°I told you to get lost, you know? If you didn¡¯t hear."

    Lafayette nodded, rose to his feet, and left the small room with a relieved sigh.

    ¡°That could have been bad.¡±

    ***

    Rachel felt better in the morning. The dream she had last night lingered in her mind, slipping away as she tried to recall it.

    There was a green light. It rested far away from her, on the other side of a mysterious lake¡ªsomewhere she couldn¡¯t reach. Sometimes it wrinkled; sometimes it waned; and as it danced and twinkled on the edge, its allure awed her.

    But none of that mattered once Rachel woke up. The depth of her attempt to recollect the abstract memories was such that she failed to notice Jack walking into her room.

    ¡°So much for being excited about seeing your best friend,¡± Jack said, laying a hand on Rachel¡¯s shoulder, breaking her from the trance.

    Rachel¡¯s head spun around, and she leaped to him, embracing his body.

    ¡°Jack!¡±

    ¡°Welcome back to the world of the living, El.¡±

    The two made their way downstairs and began their path toward school. The sound of metal being hammered reverberated throughout the house like it always did.

    ¡°Sorry for earlier... I was just thinking about something,¡± Rachel said.

    ¡°Hm? About what?¡± Jack asked.

    Rachel paused as she considered what to respond with.

    ¡°Nothing. It¡¯s dumb anyway.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not, not if it distracts you that much.¡±

    "Yeah, it is.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it is!¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not!¡±

    Rachel pinched the bridge of her nose, tired of the repetitive bickering.

    "If you have a strong desire to know, simply express your curiosity!"

    ¡°Fine, I am! I¡¯m curious! Just tell me what the hell it was!¡±

    Rachel¡¯s hand moved to pinch Jack¡¯s cheek.

    ¡°Okay, but only if you promise to pay attention.¡±

    ¡°I promise.¡±

    With a satisfied smile, she let go of him.

    ¡°I had a dream about this green light. It was dancing¡ªnot like literally dancing. It was like a light. You know what lights do? Like blinking and moving and stuff, but it felt really important at the moment... Okay, nevermind. Yeah, it¡¯s dumb,¡± Rachel said, trailing off.

    ¡°Some dreams are just weird. Maybe that one had meaning. If it did, you¡¯ll probably find out in due time. No use worrying about it now.¡± Jack delivered his input with a shrug.

    ¡°I guess you¡¯re right.¡±

    Rachel sighed as they reached the familiar gates of the school and stumbled inside.

    ***

    As Jack and Rachel made their way to class, their steps were more decisive and less hesitant¡ªbut not enough to disregard reliance on the map. They quietly took their seats in the same spot as yesterday, next to their new friends.

    Before they could exchange their greetings, Brewer called attention to the front of the class. The swift start of class was unlike the dilatory pace of the previous day, when a great deal of time was wasted.

    ¡°Alright, lesson one: magic. Yesterday you got a sneak peek of what the school is like, but today we¡¯ll jump right into learning how to harness magic.¡± He yawned, taking a sip of his coffee. "Although I should probably inform you all of something important. Later, during lunch, a counselor will come around to write down your second elective choice. Everyone¡¯s third elective is horseback riding because, as you¡¯ve noticed, we don¡¯t have a standing army of any kind. So whenever we have issues, we send you lot to do it.¡±

    Brewer grabbed a piece of chalk from the ledge of his blackboard and pointed it at the girl who had been complaining the previous day.

    ¡°...And if you have anything against it, drop out. I¡¯m paid more than anyone else in this town, and that¡¯s still not enough to care.¡±

    The girl nodded in understanding. It was apparent early on they wouldn¡¯t have much power in this class.

    Brewer propped himself on his desk.

    ¡°Last time you used magic, it was a fluke, a reflex under a high-stress situation. I believe some of you know how to perform basic magic output to some level, but we will start off by learning how to push out magic in an effective and economical way to later be refined into spells.¡±

    Brewer drew a deep breath, outstretching his hand as he closed his eyes.

    ¡°I want you to close your eyes and let your mind be blank. Feel your spirit¡ªyour mana¡ª coursing through you. For every person, it will be different, but you should all feel a trigger. As the trigger brushes upon your soul wherever it is formed, I need you to grasp it tightly, letting the coursing mana in your body push into the trigger and release,¡± he said, letting one of his fingers poke out of his clenched fist.

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    The chalk piece he held exploded.

    With a boom and crack, the powdery cylinder zipped across the room, hitting the ornate wall on the opposite side and cracking the thick wood before it disintegrated into dust. White powder marked the resulting dent.

    Brewer had launched the object so fast that a sonic boom was formed, straining the ears of every student in the vicinity.

    ¡°What the heck?!¡± Rachel covered her ears, ignorant to the fact she was yelling.

    "Language,¡± said Brewer, waiting until the childrens¡¯ mutual tinnitus abated. ¡°Now, try yourself."

    Rachel released a breath she hadn¡¯t realized she was holding. She blanked her mind, her eyes squeezing shut and her mouth quivering as she approached the task with force.

    Air parts her lips, and she inhaled a deep breath of oxygen. Despite her spiked heart rate, Rachel managed to stabilize her breathing.

    Her breaths slowed as a wave of ease washed over her, and eventually she was struck with clarity. The solution was clear.

    Mana lapped her veins. For a moment, she embraced the feeling¡ªfamiliarizing herself with magic¡ªuntil she saw it again. The green light.

    The light blinked at her. She was certain her eyes were shut, yet she saw it clearly. It swayed side to side, enchanting its single onlooker. Rachel couldn¡¯t help but admire the spectacle.

    Her spirit followed her desires to reach out for the light, and it somehow latched on. As she felt the green light upon her, she understood: this was her trigger.

    As Rachel held on tight, her body and soul clicked in place. Her body was set into motion, her mana seeping into her hand and sending a shiver up her spine.

    It was cold¡ªso cold that the gases she exhaled froze. With the release of her breath, the imaginary gears in her head turned. Everything was where it needed to be.

    Branches sprouted from the mana and permeated Rachel¡¯s arm, crawling around her skin. They traveled down her veins and wrapped around her wrist, blooming into beautiful, red roses once they reached her fingers.

    Sometime during the process, Rachel had opened her eyes.

    She raised the affected arm, her eyes narrowing at the branches inextricably enclosing it.

    ¡°This again? Both spells I¡¯ve done turned out to just be sprouting plants! This is so¡­so¡­ugh! How am I ever going to defend myself if all I can do is give people flowers?!¡± Rachel slumped down on her chair and furrowed her eyebrows.

    ¡°Maybe you should consider switching out your perfume for a rose scent.¡± Jack, whose concentration had been disrupted, approached Rachel, and their eccentric teacher appeared from behind.

    Brewer picked the rose off the branch and looked it over.

    ¡°You know, Ms. Red, that isn¡¯t a bad sign. Creating more complex forms of life, such as flowers, usually takes much practice to accomplish, yet you have an affinity for it. To stop it, you must learn to not refine your magic to the highest degree you can while releasing it, or you could simply look on the bright side and use your talent to become a healer. You¡¯d be able to regrow people¡¯s organs fairly easily. Battles aren¡¯t strictly about harming your opponent. Keeping yourself and those you care about away from death matters, as well.¡±

    Rachel sighed, letting her arm touch her forehead.

    "Okayyyy," she said, puffing her cheeks.

    Brewer walked closer, laying a hand on her desk. He waved his other hand to dispel the branches that bound her arm.

    ¡°Either way, you were the first to activate your trigger. Congrats, kid.¡± He turned, walked to his table, picked up his seemingly always full and hot cup of coffee, and sipped it. Instead of sitting on his desk, Brewer plopped down on his actual chair, his posture relaxed and lazy.

    Rachel found some comfort in his words. Even if her spell wasn¡¯t the best, she was the first to be able to muster one at all.

    ¡°Keep trying, everyone. You lot still got, like,¡± he said, peering down at his wrist and realizing he hadn¡¯t worn a watch in over ten years before looking up at the clock, ¡°negative 20 minutes.¡±

    The second member of the class to grasp Brewer¡¯s lesson was Lafayette. He released a burst of fire vicious enough to exacerbate Rachel¡¯s dissatisfaction with her own spell.

    ***

    Once the class ended, the students left for lunch. Today, sushi with a glass of Grass Sheep berry juice was being served. The drink, colloquially known as Spring Berries due to the season they grew in, had a delicate sweetness to it.

    After obtaining their lunch, Jack, Rachel, Lafayette, and Kana bee-lined toward their designated lunch table.

    ¡°Did you see my spell? It was so fucking cool, dude. I¡¯m ready to torch whatever the hell they want to toss at us!¡± Lafayette¡¯s exuberance was evident as soon as they sat down. He crossed his legs and picked up his chopsticks.

    ¡°Yeah, compared to the short-lived bubble of water I conjured, I gotta admit, that was cool,¡± said Kana, worried about inadvertently inflating Lafayette¡¯s ego.

    Meanwhile, the state of the other pair was less buoyant.

    ¡°El... You really shouldn¡¯t be beating yourself over this.¡± said Jack, who hadn¡¯t been able to muster any spells, placing a hand on Rachel¡¯s shoulder to comfort her.

    Rachel knew her spell was an exceptional feat; she knew she was doing excellent¡ªyet, it felt selfish. Unlike her peers, Rachel had manifested her magic abnormally well. Most students had failed or paled in comparison to her despite putting in the same amount of effort¡ªincluding Jack, whose unwarranted attempts at helping made her feel worse.

    ¡°El, I¡¯ll be real. Brewer said the flowers are caused by control. You¡¯re suffering from success, girl. It¡¯s easier to go backward than forward,¡± said Lafayette. The way he used the chopsticks was so sloppy that Kana grabbed his hand.

    ¡°Don¡¯t hold it like that. Here.¡± She slid his fingers into the correct formation. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to form a claw with your fingers, like this.¡±

    She pulled away with a blank expression. ¡°What am I saying? You¡¯re a dumbass. You won¡¯t remember that. Next time, just think of it like gripping a pen or pencil."

    ¡°Uh, right.¡± Lafayette reached for the sushi. Unable to control his chopsticks correctly, he resorted to tossing the fish into his mouth.

    ¡°What are you guys going to pick for electives?¡± said Rachel.

    ¡°We should all pick something we can all do together!¡± Lafayette¡¯s advice elicited the nods of the others.

    A woman with bright pink hair and a clipboard sauntered over to their table.

    She had a fervent smile stuck on her face¡ªthe kind one couldn¡¯t ascertain the genuineness of.

    ¡°Hey, you kids are a nice-looking group! So, how about you tell me what classes you want? Ooh ooh, before you ask the options, here¡¯s a list I compiled!¡± The woman handed them a piece of paper with bullet points, each followed by a different elective the school offered.

    The group skimmed through them. Most of the earlier choices were the magically assigned electives, which they could pick regardless, and, apart from physical education, none of them were talents they sought to pursue.

    ¡°None of the magic correspondence classes.¡± said Lafayette before he returned to reading. ¡°Hey, what about this one? Journalism sounds fun!¡±

    They all looked down to where he was pointing.

    ¡°Seems interesting,¡± whispered Rachel.

    ¡°I really don¡¯t care. Do whatever,¡± said Jack.

    ¡°Eh, good enough.¡± Kana shrugged.

    ¡°Great! Then it¡¯s settled. We¡¯ll all take journalism,¡± said Lafayette with a large grin.

    ¡°Got it! Your first class for that class will be tomorrow. Your homeroom teacher should tell you where it is¡ªor give you an updated map." The pink haired counselor scribbled it down on her clipboard and moved to the next table.

    ***

    Their second elective class was much like the previous one, a little deeper into the introductory content, but nothing remarkable yet. The same could be said for their secondary rendezvous with Brewer on the school day; what was different was their new class: horseback riding.

    Brewer walked his students out to the stables behind the school, looking more tired than usual as they burst through the doors and rushed toward the horses.

    ¡°Careful with the horses... If you lot die, it will get the horse put down, and I¡¯ll probably have legal trouble, but what do teenagers care about?¡± he said, walking out to the center of the field as they wandered out to see each horse.

    The stables were needlessly humongous, but they were designed with the same degree of exquisite woodworking present in the rest of the school. There were roughly five hundred students total, so one horse could be allocated to each.

    The students in the 23rd advanced class quickly spread out in search of a horse that matched their interests, too eager to wait for instructions.

    ¡°Right, so there¡¯s enough horses for every student to get one. Thank me later. But anyway, go find one that doesn¡¯t have a tag at the door with a name,¡± he said, a mug in his hand.

    The first pick of the group was Kana; she saw a horse with a coat dark as night, fully black from head to toe. ¡°I want that one.¡±

    Brewer groaned, seeing he¡¯d have to do something so early. He grabbed the tag sheet from his coat pocket and wrote, "Moonshine-____.¡±

    ¡°Alright kid, so, uh, just write your name on the line and slap it onto the door of his stall. His name is Moonshine, by the way,¡± he said, handing her the tag and a pen.

    Kana grabbed them both, sticking the tag onto the door and smoothing out any air pockets before writing ¡°Kana¡± with a heart symbol on the tag. ¡°Moonshine is a dumb name."

    Brewer looked at Rachel. She was petting the mane of a white horse. He proactively pulled and wrote out the tag that said, ¡°Coconut-____.¡±

    ¡°Aww, aren¡¯t you cute? Look at you, yeah! Such a cutie patootie!¡± Rachel cooed, bringing her palm to the horse''s face as it leaned closer, seeming fond of the attention.

    ¡°Here, that¡¯s Coconut. Write your name on the line and put it on her stall door,¡± Brewer said, giving Rachel the tag.

    The next to choose was Jack.

    Jack had picked an old, stocky, unbothered horse by the name of Melvin, who hadn¡¯t even looked at him until he heard the smacking of a tag onto the stall doors.

    Lafayette got the last pick. Since the beginning of class, he had been locked into a staring contest with a rowdy mare. The mare had a brown coat and was covered in scars. It had been the latest horse added to the stables and disapproved of most who came close.

    "Well, I don¡¯t have much of a choice anymore, do I?¡± asked Lafayette, looking at the tagged doors and then up at Brewer, who had made his way to him.

    ¡°No, I suppose you don¡¯t. Write your name here.¡± Brewer handed Lafayette the final tag. ¡°Zany-____,¡± it read.

    Lafayette adhered. Thus, all horses in the stable were claimed.

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough for today. You lot will get to actually horse ride next class or something. Dismissed,¡± Brewer said, waving his hand as he walked back into the school. A symphony of displeasure resounded from the students.

 Chapter 5: Surface Pressure

    <h2 style="text-align: center">Chapter 5: Surface Pressure</h2>

    About a month had passed since they met their horses, and since then, each student had improved their craft. At the moment, the 23rd Advanced Class of Holard Academy was outside by the stables, training whatever they lacked to become stronger. They had been warned that soon their skills would be put to the test in a true life-or-death situation. While it wasn¡¯t a lie, it also was not completely true. Only two students would have their lives put in danger, and only the two that showed the most promise. So, if a student chose to stagnate, they wouldn¡¯t die from it. Of course, Brewer knew better than to inform them of that, as believing one¡¯s life is on the line is one hell of a motivator.

    That wasn¡¯t to say any of them were doing particularly poorly¡ªmuch the contrary¡ªin this past month they had each grown fairly well as magic users. There was a reason why they were in the advanced class; if someone were to see these kids now, they¡¯d never guess they¡¯d only been officially studying magic for around a month. ¡°Report season is coming up. Who do you have for your top five to send to the council?¡± Asked Ms. Breve, Brewer¡¯s vice-principal. ¡°If I had to pinpoint them now, I¡¯d place Rachel Red at one, Jack Royalis at two, Lafayette Wanderbout at three, Thomas Milligy at four, and Kanashimi Isaretly at the fifth spot,¡± said Brewer, not turning to look at Breve. He was watching his students train through the window of his office, although it was fairly high up in the building, making it hard to see the stables; he made do. Before Breve could respond, Brewer added, ¡°However, I know about how peeved the council is just at the sheer notion I let a raw magic user into the ranks of my advanced class so that I may omit Jack from the list. If that is done, Jay Gault, the new transfer who is not a member of the advanced class, shall be number 5.¡± Brewer turned his head back. His eyes fell on Breve as she sat atop his desk like he often did himself. He sighed before turning around fully and walking closer. ¡°My, my, Clover¡ª¡± Breve said, leaning her face against her hand as she melodramatically leaned to the side, laying herself more across his desk, ¡°¡ªI didn¡¯t give up my spot on the magical council and come work under my own student so you¡¯d appease the populous. What happened to the man who took in a raw magic user into his future elite strikeforce a month ago?¡± Brewer shook his head slightly, picking up a stack of papers from his desk. Breve was right, yet sometimes being the opposition at every meeting got so tiring. He checked the papers he had picked up; they were the reports he had written where he chose Jack as number two. He handed them to his vice-principal, ¡°You¡¯re right; could you please deliver these for me then, Ms. Breve?¡± Breve nodded, taking the papers and getting off the desk. She walked out the door, turning her head back right before she left, ¡°Gladly,¡± she added, leaving the room. Brewer now took a seat atop his desk, grabbing his nearest cup of coffee and swirling the liquid within it as he stared down into it. ¡°I wonder how the next council meeting will go¡­¡±

    ***

    Rachel tossed her now-empty waterskin aside and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand as she yelled, ¡°Again!¡± Lafayette nodded, clapping his hands together, and yelled, ¡°Accendio!¡± As a plume of fire burst from his motion, Rachel brought her arms together in a martial block; however, instead of her usual rosebush protection rising, she mustered much sturdier and thicker material, like the bark of a tree. The spell manifested from below this time; the already existing grass under her seemed to quickly mold and morph as the bark was raised in defense. Doing it like this was much more mana-efficient than simply springing life from herself like she usually did. As the two spells connected, Lafayette¡¯s fire burst apart the bark, but not before being fully redirected and blocked. Rachel was fine under all that, a little hot due to the rising heat the fire caused, but otherwise fine. As the charred pieces of bark flew past her, one of them caught and made a small cut on her arm. ¡°Ow,¡± she said reflexively, slapping her hand over it and using some of her magic to close the cut. Her breath was ragged, but at that moment she realized her own progress. She already had enough precision to heal small wounds on herself, and she was truly proud of that. Most of the apprehension surrounding her old rosebush spell seemed to be gone. However, that wasn¡¯t the only change that month had brought. Ever since they¡¯d learned about the life and death scenario a little into the month, school days were mostly grueling training. As such, her usual outfit switched from a white button-up shirt to a black tank top, and her long, flowing hair was consistently tied back into a bun so she could better keep up with her classmates. Looking down at her arms, however, she wondered if she made the right call. She had always taken fervent care of her appearance, but now in this time of training, her arms were riddled with cuts, bruises, and scars everywhere. Her magic had certainly gotten better, but not good enough to heal without scarring; even shallow cuts left their mark when healed by her magic, thus the reason she let some of them heal naturally.

    Lafayette, on the other hand, seemed like he never had an insecurity cross his mind before. ¡°Good work, El!¡± He exclaimed, running towards her with his hand outstretched for a high-five. She took it, noticing that his arms looked much the same as hers, yet he didn¡¯t seem as apprehensive about it. Like almost everyone, Lafayette had also dropped his style for the more practical outfits that were almost the same across every student. His arms were arguably worse than hers, as he didn¡¯t have the healing magic to fix them, so he was walking around with multiple open cuts and bandages instead of little scars. She nodded at him, trying to get the pressing insecurity over her scarred skin out of her mind. She was a warrior now, right? Looking a little banged up shouldn¡¯t bother her that bad.

    The only student that didn¡¯t change clothing styles was Jack Royalis. Jack still wore oversized, baggy clothing with no particular class or style to convey. Most of his clothes were made by his mother and were solid, bland colors such as beige. Most of them were also one to two sizes too big; this made it almost surprising that he, too, was training and doing so harder than most.

    ¡°Heads up!¡± Jack yelled, ducking under Tom¡¯s previous strike and twisting his leading foot backward, rotating his arm out for a cross straight towards the other boy¡¯s liver. Tom¡¯s eyes widened; a chill ran down his spine as he realized he was completely outmatched speed-wise, and Jack¡¯s raw magic would make sure that punch hurt like hell. Thinking quickly and on the spot, Tom twisted his foot into the ground, funneling his magic under him. Then, the rest of his mana was entirely spent coating his body; he created a hard outside layer of rock that was still forming as Jack struck him. As he did, Tom¡¯s eyes widened further; he felt his mouth involuntarily opening, but no sound came out. He tried to gasp; however, he felt his breathing impeded. He fell back flat on his rear, gripping the ground below him for stability as his earth armor crumbled before it even got to fully debut. He had gotten the wind knocked out of him, and his spell shut down in a singular punch. His eyes were wide with panic as he tried to catch his breath to no avail. He figured he was going to be the laughingstock of the class, but as he turned back to his classmates, all he saw was awe and worry, none of it focused on him. He followed their gaze, following it back to Jack. First, he realized just how far he had fallen back; only now the realization Jack wasn¡¯t in his immediate view dawned on him, but that realization was cut short by the streak of red running down his opponent. Blood, Jack¡¯s arm was covered in blood. The spell he had cast right before the earth armor, a spike had burst through the ground and stabbed straight through Jack¡¯s arm. He stood still in place, still silent, and in the position of a not-fully-carried-out cross punch. The horror of the realization was enough for the wind to get knocked back into Tom, yet he held his breath. He scurried a couple more feet away from the boy and towards the group before even standing up, his eyes still wide. Jack had sent him flying, broke through the earth''s armor, and knocked the wind out of him with a punch he didn¡¯t even get to fully carry out. Not only that, not carrying it out wasn¡¯t a calculated choice; he lost force by a spike stabbing through his arm, and he still effortlessly knocked Tom clean out of the battle. ¡°What the fuck...?¡± Tom muttered to himself, dropping his usual insulting demeanor out of pure shock. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    Rachel quickly rushed to aid Jack, having him pull his arm out of the rocky spike¡ªwhich doctors don¡¯t usually recommend¡ªbefore using her magic¡ªwhich doctors don¡¯t usually have¡ªto heal the wound. That was the deepest wound she ever healed with her magic, and after doing so, she grabbed Jack¡¯s shoulder for support as the draining of the last of her mana left her lightheaded. ¡°It¡¯s okay, El,¡± Jack said, grabbing her shoulder back to brace her further. ¡°Don¡¯t exhaust yourself like this; not every injury needs to be healed all the way.¡± He let go of her shoulder, beginning to walk towards Tom to help him up, before turning his head back at her, ¡°Thank you, though; I really do appreciate it.¡± Rachel smiled back, glad to have her effort recognized. ¡°Of course!¡± She chirped. Jack smiled back at her; by the time he turned back to Tom, he found him already being helped up by Daisy. ¡°Stupid fucking raw¡­¡± he muttered under his breath, catching himself before throwing a slur at Jack once again. He mumbled something else instead, before grabbing Daisy¡¯s wrist and walking through the rest of the group and towards the inside of the school. ¡°Let¡¯s go, Daisy,¡± he grumbled. Some gazes were fixed on him as he left; as the awe of Jack¡¯s feat subsided, people instead focused on the true victim of the fight.

    As Tom swung the doors that led back into the school open and entered, dragging Daisy behind him, Mr. Brewer passed by him, pushing out to the field. The crowd began whispering amongst themselves as Brewer entered and Tom left. Both were topics of discussion; some students worried about Brewer¡¯s appearance and its relation to the life-threatening situation they were to be put in, meanwhile others were more focused on the recent Tom situation. However, Brewer cut through the chatter. ¡°Silence,¡± he said in a commanding tone, yet barely raising his voice. ¡°As you all know, you have been given these past couple of classes of free training time to prepare for the possibly life-threatening operation dangling over your heads,¡± he began. The students held their breaths, some out of excitement, most out of fear. ¡°And as such, it is finally upon you lot to be tried on how you trained. Well, two of you, I need to see Jack Royalis and Rachel Red in my office relating to the subject. The rest of you, get back to training; you never know when you may be called up next.¡± A collective exhale could be heard from the crowd. The student¡¯s relief at the news that only two of them would have their lives put on the line was apparent in every student but two. Rachel gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as her eyes widened with fear. Her eyes searched for Jack¡¯s, looking for some sort of reassurance. She expected to meet his eyes and get given a stern nod of solidarity, the same he always gave her in tough times. Yet this time, this time was different. When she finally met eyes with Jack, it was as if he wasn¡¯t there. His eyes were wide and distant as if searching for something. It felt like he was looking right through her. It made her even more scared, a feeling of isolation and cold that crept closer as her only pillar of support was ripped from under her. ¡°Follow me, you two,¡± Brewer instructed, waving his arm forward to visually indicate his request as he began trudging towards the school doors. Rachel nodded, gulping hard as she followed behind him. Jack was not too far behind. The whole walk up to the office, they were all silent; none of the three uttered a single word as they climbed to Brewer¡¯s office. As they reached the spot, he opened the door for them, allowing them to enter before doing so himself.

    Brewer, for one of the few times since they had met him, sat in his actual chair for once. He motioned at the chairs in front of him, ¡°Take a seat,¡± he instructed. The two did as they were told, their fear rising every second instead of lessening. Knowing that they¡¯d have to face this just the two of them instead of as a class was much more frightening. ¡°No need to be so tense,¡± Brewer interjected, feeling their fear, ¡°the danger of your task was greatly exaggerated by me so that you¡¯d train harder.¡± Jack let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding, partially relieved by the news. Rachel, on the other hand, was still fairly mortified. Brewer opened a drawer on his desk, pulling out two relatively cheap-looking maps. ¡°Recently, a run-down temple on the Worse Lands has had reports of weird sounds, and anyone who has gone to investigate at night has disappeared. We do not believe it is much of a threat, likely some sort of beast non-magic users aren¡¯t equipped to handle. You two were picked because currently, you have the most promise as magic users, so I am entrusting you two to be dispatched and check out the situation two nights from now. You may bring whatever you please; this is not a test; you simply must find the cause of the issue, neutralize it, and return alive.¡± Brewer seemed much more formal now than ever before, sprawling open the maps and marking a spot in the ¡°Worse Lands¡± section. He then handed each of them to indicate their locations. ¡°Understood?¡± he asked, letting each of them have their map now that they were fully briefed. Jack simply nodded. ¡°Y-yes, sir,¡± Rachel responded, having calmed down slightly but still too anxious to look up from her lap. ¡°Great, now go, you two; your time to get ready is limited.¡±

    After that, the two found themselves standing outside Brewer¡¯s office clutching their maps. ¡°We¡¯ll be okay, right?¡± Rachel asked, turning and looking up at Jack. ¡°Yeah,¡± Jack retorted, still looking straightforward. Rachel noticed his odd behavior; he usually would look at her when affirming something like this. ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± he said, his words followed by the final bell of the day ringing. Yet to look her in the eyes, Jack simply started walking forward, before taking a brief pause. ¡°C¡¯mon, El, we don¡¯t want to be home late,¡± he said, continuing to walk without ensuring she was truly following. She nodded, even though he couldn¡¯t see it, and tightened her pace to catch up to him. The walk home today was more silent than any walk they had ever taken together before.