"Ughh..." I growled in agonizing pain as my vision started to regain itself. Something horribly painful is provoking me by my cheek. I felt dizzy and tired. "W... what h-happened?" I slowly sat up as I took in the view. I was in a long rectangular room with twin-sized beds lined up against each edge of the creamy brown walls. Curtains hung by the perimeter of each bed's surroundings. A hospital? I thought.

"The hospital wing," a deep voice addressed me from my right. I spun my head around to be greeted with the sight of three people: Director Elshire, still sporting his black sunglasses despite being inside; Mason, snoring loudly as he slept, sitting on a chair to the Director's right; and even further right, with a bit of distance from Mason's seat, was Alessia Hayes, staring disdainfully at me.

"Why..." I began, but my head hurts too much to continue talking. I clutched my cheek as it throbbed with a sort of distant pain. Alessia shifted in her seat uncomfortably, while the director took off his sunglasses. For the first time, I could discern his eyes. They were fish-like — long and sharp, though wrinkles deteriorated the sides. Still, his pupils flared with perfect finality.

"Mr. Neswitt," he continued, "I have to say, I am impressed with what you did, given the little information I prepared you with prior to your duel to Miss Hayes here."

Suddenly, it all came back to me. I remembered my duel against Alessia and how she sliced my cheek. Then the horror struck: the sight of me almost decapitating her head made my stomach lurch. "O-Oh," I muttered unconsciously, "so... did I pass? The test, I mean?"

The director laughed audibly at my question, and it startled Mason awake from his slumber. In a stupor, he almost fell out of his seat. "My dear boy, Mr. Neswitt," the director gasped for breath, "of course you passed. In fact, you aced it, I daresay."

My face lit up with a smile. "T-That means I get to join the camp, right?"

"Ah, I have to apologize first," the director replied.

"Apologize? What do you mean?"

"Well, you see, you actually already joined the camp when your guardian finished the paperwork. The 'interview' and this test was all just fun and games. Ah, I'm terribly sorry for making you fight Miss Hayes; you got that scar in the process. Good news, however, is that you're now the talk of the town! — or, the camp, more or less. Either way, it's not every day someone beats Miss Hayes in a duel. Especially not a newcomer."

"I beat her?" I turned to look at Alessia, but she scowled at me and turned her head away. "I thought it ended in a draw?"

"Officially, yes," the director nodded, "but from the looks of that final blow, anyone could agree that had I not stopped the duel in time, you could've killed Miss Alessia. Good work, you twit." He got up and left the hospital wing, leaving only myself, Mason and Alessia here.

"Congrats, mate," Mason said with a large grin. "You were really amazing. Should've seen the faces of the spectators — they couldn't believe you almost sliced off Alessia's head."

"Ahem," the girl beside Mason cleared her throat intentionally louder than it should've. "And bless your damn soul that my head didn't get cut off."

"Ehh... didn't notice you there, Alessia..." Mason scratched his head.

Alessia sighed heavily. "Neswitt," she stood up, and raised her hand for me to shake, "I acknowledge that you have outdone me in the fight. I'll accept my defeat."

I shook her hand cautiously. "Oh... As long as everyone's okay, right?"

"...Right."

"Hey now, no need to be so conceited," Mason nudged her with his elbow, to which he was met by a fist to the face.

"Shut your mouth," snapped Alessia. She had punched Mason in the face. Hard, too.

"Argh..." he groaned, "did you really have to punch me?"

"You asked for it."

"Sheesh. Anyway, Ernie, tell me! How do you feel? You beat Alessia and all, and —" another kick to his knee. He stumbled back and groaned in pain even louder.

I giggled at his misery, as a friend would. "I feel fine, I suppose. But I'm not forgiving Director Elshire for making me do that — the fight wasn't even necessary!"

"Oh, he's always like that," Alessia piped up.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, the idiot. He likes to play games on us just to have a bit of fun. And look what that lead you to —" she addressed my scar.

"Oh... Yeah, I really can't forgive him for that. He even tried to prank me, for god's sake!"

"Ooh!" Mason recovered from clutching his knee. "The fart cushion, I surmise?"

"Yup," I nodded. "But he didn't get me. I noticed the cushion was way too bloated before I sat down."

"So you're another one who didn't fall for his plan?" said Alessia.

"Yeah. You were one of them as well, right?"

She nodded with a smirk on her face. "Only the most observant of those can see through his prank, and it seems all of those who saw through him is gathered here."

I turned my head sideways. "All of them? I know there's Yansir, but apart from you and me, who was the last person who didn't get pranked?"

"This bloke right here," Alessia elbowed Mason. My eyes widened with surprise — Mason, of all people? He saw through the director as well?

"Uh-huh," he seems to have read my mind. "Fact, I even pranked him back a few days later."

"Really?" I was eager to hear his tale now.

"Really. I pulled off the same fart cushion trick on his chair — and what do you know? He fell for it. And all with that lecture about being observant; heck, he wasn't even paying attention!"

I laughed at this revelation, and Alessia was trying to stifle hers. What an ironic twist of events!

Amidst the laughing, my stomach rumbled in protest. "I'm famished. How long have I been out for?"

"About a few hours or so," Mason replied. "Dinner's started already. It'll be over if we don't get there soon."

"Right. Um, Hayes —"

"Call me Alessia," the girl said.

"Alright, Alessia. You wanna join?"

"I..."

"What's up?" Mason asked in concern.

"I'd rather not..."

"C'mon, if there's nothing wrong, just come eat with us, alright? Don't you always have your meals alone? This can be refreshing for you!"

"..."

"Mason's right," I joined in. "Let's be friends, why don't we?" I held out my hand to shake.

"You..."

"And call me Ernie, will you?"

"...I don't understand..."

"What do you not understand?" Mason asked crossly. I felt a certain impatience building up inside him. He's usually not the rushy-type, but I have an intuition that there's more to it than Alessia being stubborn.

"Why...?"

"Oh, don't say it again—!" He wailed and cupped his ears with his hands.

"What is it?" I asked innocently, though fervently curious about the relationship between these two. Acquaintances? Friends? Close friends? Or even lovers?

"Why are you, of all people, the one to befriend me so willingly after what I've done? Don't you feel any animosity at all?" Alessia said in an almost-shouting voice, her face slowly flaring in crimson red.

"..."

I didn't know how to respond. I didn't know why I want to forge a friendship with her. I just want to be friends. With everyone, if possible. I couldn't care less about what she did to me. A simple graze on the cheek could be easily healed, all the more so in a world of magic. So what's so wrong about being friends? Does the idea disgust her? Is that why she always chooses to eat alone? The thought of that brought back vivid memories of my lonely past. I shuddered in fear.

"What is with you people, really?" She continued with her rant, voice now loud and clear like a siren blearing through a city. "First Mason, with his nauseating 'I-want-to-be-friends-with-everyone' act, and now you, Ernie, just casually ask me to be friends? You should be careful with who you trust, you idiot. I don't look like what I seem. I have my own secrets to keep. I stray away from people... from having friends, because of a certain slip that caused everything to shatter before me... I don't want any of you to face all that crap!"

Boom — I stomped my feet hard on the ground. It shook slightly like an earthquake had hit. Alessia and Mason both came to their senses and just froze, staring at me perplexingly. I felt hot, hearing all that Alessia had said. I wasn't particularly angry — no, it was a different sort of angry. It had a hint of empathy, like I know full well how she feels. I just want to let her know that it's not only her that has suffered. I too, have gone through nightmares, and flourished beyond imaginable in a new world, such as here.

"Do you think," I started, teeth gritted to the point it sounded like metal scraping metal, "that only you went through all that darkness? That nobody else has had similar experiences of hopelessness?"

The silence after I took a pause was intangible. Alessia's eyes shook as our gazes locked. On the other side of that thread that connected, the pair of crimson eyes — my eyes — shone with fury, and with an all-knowing despair. I couldn't let her off now, not when she's so close-minded. She hasn't realized that other people can suffer to her extent as well, and even worse.

However, for I do not know what kind of horror she has lived through, I cannot compare our traumas. But no matter how deep scars wound us, there stands one omnipresent similarity, one blearing factor that makes everyone's wounds stand out so identical that one would have to be blind to not notice it: that we have all suffered.

Yes, our nightmares might not be equally as frightening — they may be meekly shallow or deep to the point of no repair, but one thing still stands the same among us all. We have all suffered, have felt the same kind of despair, where we desperately scramble for that tiny ray of hope, somewhere, no matter how dark the horrors get. We all have tried to search for that single thread of fate, where everything bad can finally turn good, where it can lift us out of the maw of darkness that we were stuck in for who knows how long.

This was what I realized. That day when Arianna Heartwood took my hand and berated me with her soft-spoken advice — she helped me to see further into the cogs turning within my mind. I could understand, that no matter how big or small, how long or short, how scary or funny our treacherous journeys are, we all stand to gain one last chance at salvation, at the thing we call hope.

Only through suffering, we can realize that we can be happy. Only through our sadness, we can realize what it means to have a fulfilling life. We all share the same wounds. We all have fallen into that steep, unclimbable hole of darkness. And there is one striking difference between those who have climbed out of that hole, and those who have failed to do so.

The ones who succeed never gave up.

As cliché as it is, that is the unmistakable truth. To win, we must forge our way forwards. We must not be chained to our traumas in the past. We must move on from those times, and possibly even learn from our mistakes that have led us into that despair to begin with. We have to have a driving force — a will that can push us forwards.

And among those things that urge us on, is what we call friends. We need friends — not just any friends, but real friends, who we can fully trust and place our shoulders on — to call us, to help us realize that, there is more to this world than suffering. We have to live on, to cram ourselves into the future, so we can live to our fullest without regrets. Friends are useful, and when time calls for their help, only the real ones will come into action. What Alessia needs, is a real friend.

"Do you think I've not suffered myself?" I asked, though not entirely expect an answer.

"I... That's—"

"Can't you see that I've also had a past? A past where I lost all hope? Full of darkness and despair that ending it all would've been better off?"

"That isn't—"

"That isn't something I should throw around so easily, you say? Well, tell you what, I, Ernie Neswitt, have suffered long enough to understand your worries. I have been through the depths of hell and resurfaced on this world. I have faced the brunt of hateful glares and scorned words through my whole existence. Do you think I wouldn't be able to handle yours? Your nightmares and trauma, which led you here to this day?"

"You don't know the full story—!"

"Maybe I don't, but I've gone through my own story, and that itself should prove I am worthy of being friends with you. I don't care what crap is thrown at me when I'm with you — in fact, I'll take it head-on! I'll face that terror like it's an old friend! So Alessia — let me ask you again: Can we be friends? Actual friends?" I held out my hand for her to grasp, like an angel inviting her into the fluffy whites of the heavens above.

"..." She couldn't retaliate any further. She only stood there, looking distantly at me hands, although I can sense a small urge to take hold of it in her eyes. Those glossy, ultraviolet obsidian eyes that have glared me down like an insect about to be stomped on. She had the strength, I know it — that's the reason why she's standing here today, and not rotting away in whatever hole of despair she has dug herself in.

My saliva was dry as I stood, with my hands outstretched, waiting infinitely long for Alessia to take hold of it. As my shaking arm began to lose strength, Mason piped up beside Alessia.

"I have my fair share of bullshit as well," he said, an anguished look smeared across his face. "I've went through a hell lot of stuff in the past, too, but I chose to block all of them out. Those terrible memories have been swimming in the back of my mind for as long as I can remember. I just couldn't get rid of them at all."

He took a deep breath, and continued. "I wonder if that was the right choice... Yeah, I wonder about that a lot." —he croaked out a painful laugh— "So instead of continuing to make bad decisions, I chose to change myself. I forced myself to be who I am today, and that has been a hell of an adventure as well. But I never actually broke away from those memories. They've been haunting me ever since, almost taunting me at every possible moment so my happy, delusional shell would break...

"But I realized something else. When I met Ernie for the first time and went on to shout out all his pent-up anger, I realized he had been going through something similar, perhaps something even worse. Ernie, you — you were so brave, lunging out at me with all your bad memories... I felt so inclined toward you after that — I wanted to learn from you, who could so easily tell someone else, a stranger even, of their deepest, more darkest secrets. I would never be able to do that.

"You were like a shining piece of light to me, you know? I felt like I've finally found the thing that will help me force all of that stuff in the back of my mind out once and for all. And you've proved yourself in front of me that you're strong — twice, now — by revealing the fears of your past. And look — I'm talking about my weird secret now, aren't I? It's a start, at least.

"What I'm saying is, I'm just glad you're my friend. No other person is like you, and I wholeheartedly respect each and every one of your actions. They all carry a consequence that you may or may not have learned to face, but you plough through them all like they're of the same brand. It's so inspiring to me. Thanks for just being here, Ernie. You've helped me lots, even though I'm sure you didn't intentionally do it at all."

I fell silent after Mason finished his own speech. I wasn't at all expecting him to speak out his heart. I fell to a daze, trying to digest what this person had just revealed to my face, only to have my daydream snapped by Alessia punching Mason's and my shoulder. They were weak punches, but they each carried the full brunt of her feelings.

"...You guys talk way too much." Her voice shook with a sort of resentment. She composed herself and then took in a heap of air. After a long exhale, she spoke again. "I've made my decision."

My face lit up after hearing her words. A lot of fuzzy thoughts scrambled through my mind, expecting so many different answers to come out of her mouth. What is her decision? Is she going to accept my request of friendship? Or is she going to flat-out reject me?

"...I'll be your friend." After she spoke, it looked as if a large amount of weight had been lifted off from her chest. She smiled wryly; those purple eyes gleaming under the white hospital wing light. She took Mason's and my hand and shook them hard. I winced at her grip strength. She smirked triumphantly as we let go. "But you'll have to tell me about that weird thing you did with the sand earlier. That was magic, wasn't it?"

"It sure is," I smiled.

"Vector magic," Mason added.

"...You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" She said to me.

"Maybe. And maybe I've got a ton more hidden behind my sleeves."

We left for the canteen and chatted the evening away. That meal was most likely the most refreshing dinner I've had since forever. I was finally having a great time surrounded by people who can truly understand me, while also depending on me. I finally had friends.

***

Beyond the door into the hospital room in the wing, Director Elshire leaned against the wooden entryway with his back to it, one leg stamped on for support. He left the three kids inside the room, but then stayed to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Do you think that only you went through all that darkness?" The Neswitt boy went on, pure fury seeping through his each and every word. The director slowly listened on, careful not to make a sound.

He had expected this development to come. He left the three children in the room for a reason. Those three, who — along with Yansir Aizenhowart — are the only ones to have seen through his prank attempt. They were the most observant bunch among the lot he trained. That, and they showed immense potential.

It would only be fitting for these three to warm up to each other and realize their faults. Elshire knew, discreetly, of what darkness lay within them. If that despair goes untouched, or worse, mishandled, they would definitely lose everything they've built up. That potential resting within them will undoubtedly go to waste if disaster were to come.

So here, the perfect opportunity presented itself. Without anyone else to hear, they could each let out their deepest secrets and soften up around each other. They will build up a bond that, if treated correctly, could be unbreakable. And for that reason, Elshire presented the very scenario for them to do so.

Everything, from Ernie meeting up with Mason, and Alessia having a duel with Ernie — it was all planned by the director, all in the name of forming a bond between each other. He controlled their movements in the shadows, and secretly paved a way to their success.

He sincerely believed that those three children could bring salvation to this world. If he meddled with their affairs enough so they could learn early on, they will definitely achieve greatness. Possibly even beyond his greatest student yet — Yansir Aizenhowart.

As the conversation behind him finished, he stood up straight again and pushed his sunglasses back to cover his eyes. A small, sinister grin lightened up his sly face. He walked away, satisfied with the events of this day. Once everything is said and done, his world will for sure see a new band of heroes rise to glory.

"Now that you've finished your first challenge," he muttered to himself, "how well are you going to face the next?"

He already had a plan figured out. Behind those thick, jet-black glasses, his cold, calculating eyes gleamed with ulterior motives. He will throw upon them an obstacle to face, a challenge that could possibly break their bonds, and even the wills in their heart.

No — they will surely succeed. They will definitely come out and win, and in the process, they will learn. Only those three will be able to do it. None of his other students could even dream of what he's going to send them off to. Only when they finish and come back, then his pupils will grimace at their heart-wrenching story, and burst out an awe-inspiring wave to the coming generations of adventurers.

This will be their time to shine. Or, perhaps, will it be their last harmony of breaths?

***

It was already late in the evening. My first day at training camp has officially ended. Walking in the streets of the still-bustling town, I stride with a hop in my step with Mr. Heartwood as my escort back to his house.

"So, what did you think of the training camp?" He asked expectantly.

"It was great!" I cried. "I still can't believe I've learned so much in just a day!"

"Well, that's great to hear. Anything else worth mentioning?"

"Ah, there is one thing—" the faces of Mason and Alessia popped up in my mind. "I've made some friends!" I grinned wildly, like a little kid stumbling into the toy section of a store.

"Is that so? I'd like to meet them." James didn't look at me as we talked — he stared off far into the distance, even as he maneuvered around passers-by like he could sense them coming. Those shiny green eyes reminisced of a far-off memory.

"If so, can I invite them over for some time? Both of them live at the camp, so it's not like they have anywhere else to wander off to."

"Yes, of course. Your friends are very much welcome to my house! I'm sure Rona would love to meet them," he added.

Then, I remembered Rona — the slap smearing hot against my cheeks, her shrill as she scolded me for being so disgraceful to the point of discarding her kind mother's aid. I trembled at the thought of that scene. She looked, sounded, and acted so different...

I'll have to reprimand our bond soon. I can't just let this abyss between me and her open any wider. I'll have to find a way to fix whatever I've broken.

But how am I supposed to do that? I'm not sure where to begin — with talking to Rona first, or apologizing to Mrs. Heartwood first. If I choose the wrong thing, then the situation might just snowball into something worse. I'll have to be extra careful with my steps.

For she was the first ever person near my age to have accepted me for who I am, and introduced me to this world full of nothing but mysteries and questions alike. She is the person who has molded me into a better human being. She has opened my eyes like nobody else has done. She — Rona — is more than a friend to me. She is a valuable asset, so close we could be siblings.

For that reason, I must work to rekindle that fire of friendship within us. Although I may not call her an actual friend, she has helped me tremendously, and I was an idiot for not seeing her as someone more important than just another kind person helping me to survive in this new world. I have realized the faults in my ways, and now I need to somehow convey what I've learned, and also my sincere apologies, to her.

Using the situation to my advantage, I asked the father of that girl I'm trying to apologize to himself — Mr. James Heartwood. "Hey, Mr. Heartwood..."

"Yes?"

"I want to ask you something... but don't answer me directly, okay? I need to figure this out for myself."

"...Go on."

I braced myself and asked the question. "What should I do about my situation with Rona?"

James went silent for a moment, and that moment stretched on. Under the rapidly changing dark orange sky, Mr. Heartwood's shadow graced my face in a looming darkness as I looked at his figure.

Then, he spoke, slowly. "I think, personally, that the best choice right now is to move slowly ahead. Ponder on your decisions as if your life is at stake, and think about the consequences that lie within each decision. That's all I have to say."

"...I see." I turned away, seemingly satisfied with his vague answer. It was just the thing I was looking for. "I'll choose what to do as carefully as I can. I promise I won't make this rift between Rona and I bigger."

"I hope that is so."

As we walked on, the sight of the familiar road leading to the Heartwood house drew close. Soon enough, when the dusk fell upon us with all its dark glory, the shadow of the homey structure stood in front, towering like a giant over me. This time, I thought, I won't repeat my stupid mistakes again!