The Start of Summer

Crickets were singing. The heat warped the horizon.

Lug was there, sitting on a tombstone in the middle of the cemetery. His hair fell into his eyes. A small scar on his nose and a few on his hands proved that his training had left its mark. His gaze was much sharper, his build more imposing. Beneath his black t-shirt, it was evident that the teenage body he had just a few months prior was now a distant memory.

It was a Tuesday. He had said goodbye to Bastia the day before. The circus had given its last performance. Lug sat there, waiting for Hannah. He had sent her a message, telling her he wanted to see her. It had been months since they last met.

The cemetery gate creaked. Lug had never oiled it. It was his way of knowing if someone entered. It was Hannah. Lug almost didn't recognize her. Her hair was a darker shade of brown, her usually cheerful expression slightly dimmed, and she had cut her hair into a bob. When she saw Lug, she smiled broadly.

"Who are you?" she asked jokingly.

Lug opened his arms with a shy smile. She embraced him.

"Lug, I'm so happy to see you!" she said, hugging him tightly.

Lug was embarrassed but managed to keep his composure much better than before.

"Me too," he said.

Then Hannah let go of him and stepped back a few paces. She rubbed her chin, seemingly deep in thought.

"But seriously, is that really you?" she asked.

"Of course, haha."

"You've grown taller, your shoulders are broader, and your arms are bigger. You've even gotten a tan! Your eyes seem lighter, too!" Hannah's voice grew louder with each new detail she pointed out.

Lug glanced at himself for a moment, then replied:

"You've changed too, you changed your hair color!"

Hannah touched a strand of her hair with a melancholic expression.

"Don't change the subject, you'll have to explain everything," she responded.

They sat down at the spot with the best view.

"Did you finish your training?" Hannah asked.

"Yes, yesterday was my last day at the circus. I passed the coin test, and all that's left is to face the commander."

Hannah whistled.

"Impressive! Little Lug is going to take on a titan. You're fearless."

Lug didn't respond.

"And you? How's your progress?" he asked.

Hannah sighed.

"I finished a few days ago. I'm just polishing up some techniques, but the bulk of the work is done." She gave Lug a slightly forced smile.

Lug laid down on the ground, sighing. He stared at the white clouds drifting across the clear blue sky.

"Time has gone by so fast. Just yesterday, I was knocked to the ground by a stone from the wall. And now..." Lug raised his arm and clenched his fist.

"I've become strong, I think," he added.

Hannah looked at him affectionately.

"Strong, huh? Haha, that's good," she laughed.

Lug sat up.

"I'm going to challenge the commander. Will you come and watch?" he asked with a proud look.

Hannah had never seen that expression on Lug before. She agreed and followed him to the camp.

There, in front of the large red tent, Lug asked to challenge the commander. The soldiers, upon hearing this, laughed. Nobody underestimated Lug. They knew his speed, strength, and endurance. Everyone respected him. But to challenge the commander was to court death.

The commander emerged from his tent. As imposing as ever. He looked down at Lug with a smile on his lips.

"You took your time. Let's go," he said.

He wasn't surprised. The commander had always known that Lug had great potential. The only thing holding him back was his dual nature. In the eyes of the ghosts, Lug was half ghost, half living. It was finally time to settle the score. Would the living or the dead take the reins of Lug's life? Would he choose to let himself die, hating his life? Or would he face life and accept the battle that was destined for him? Regardless of the answer, the commander wouldn't go easy on him.

They positioned themselves in front of the cemetery. Hannah and Eno sat on the wall surrounding the graveyard. The two fighters were surrounded by soldiers from the camp.

The commander removed his armor, keeping only his tunic and his spear. A spear so large that it was nearly a meter taller than the commander himself. This 2.5-meter giant had natural armor thanks to his muscles. He was a sight to behold. Lug was in a t-shirt, a sword in hand. He had ordered it online; it was made of metal but not sharp. He didn't need a real weapon to fight a ghost. Infusing the sword with psychic energy would be enough to injure the commander. But in the interest of fairness, Lug made a decision.

Thanks to his training, he had acquired the ability to stop the reflex that prevented him from injuring himself with psychic energy. In other words, he could choose to be cut or impaled by the general's lance, even if it was made only of psychic energy. Lug was going to put his life on the line in this battle.

The two fighters were ready. Before starting, Lug recalled the last conversation he had with the Wise One.

"Do you know what your greatest quality is, Lug? What has allowed you to become so strong?" asked the Wise One.

Lug pondered for a moment before replying.

"I never give up!"

The Wise One shook his head, inhaling from his pipe.

"Yes, but why don't you give up?" asked the ghost.

Lug didn't know what to say.

"Your ability to tolerate frustration," said the ghost, waving his pipe.

Lug was a bit confused.

"What am I supposed to do with that information?" he wondered.

Now, standing in front of the commander, he began to understand the meaning of those words. The leather grip of the sword he held tightly in his hand. The weight of the metal. The sandy air he breathed. His feet squeezed into shoes that were too small. Part of him wanted to charge forward and cleave the enemy. Another part wanted to flee. Constantly within him, opposing forces were in motion. Lug was a storm.

He was about to fight the scariest being – or non being – he knew.

It felt like the start and the end of his current world.

After this fight, nothing will ever be the same.

END OF PART 1