That same morning, when Oliver knocked at America’s door and the girl still half-dressed read the admission letter, she looked at him with pity.

— Yeap, you’re screwed, dude —

She said, like watching a dead man standing in front of her.

— What? but… —

— … —

— Have you even read what it says? —

— Yeah, that’s why I say it —

There, Oliver took the letter from her hands, hasty.

— It says that I’ve been granted an Internship, what the fuck does that mean? —

America looked at him with her green eyes, it was hard to focus when she did that. So he pretended to be more angry and confused than he truly was.

— I haven’t even finished high school, how can I become an Intern? —

— That’s just paperwork shit-talk, the Internship something else —

—Then, what it is? —

America took back the letter, walked through the salon, and laid herself against the dinner table.

— Ardeen’s Academy relies a lot on old customs, Internship is how they call those situations in which a Teacher takes on the responsibility to Mentor an Apprentice —

She stated

— Or at least, the chance of becoming someone’s apprentice… in summary, you must have called someone’s attention inside the Faculty, and his trying both to recruit and test you —

Oliver remained silent, thinking.

— I just assumed you were a complete stranger the other day, but have you ever met someone from the Academy? —

And then she added

— I mean, apart from Park and his sister —

— I have —

Answered Oliver, very carefully.

— Who —

— I met two men after Kiki had… well, it’s complicated to explain, but they were two —

— How did they look? —

— I… —

— Fast —

— One was tall, like very tall, black hair, and… the scars, he was covered in a lot of them —

— Krähen —

She said almost in whispers, eyes full of fear.

— The other? —

— Almost as tall, but a lot more strong-looking, like a bear —

— Ardeen —

She said to her surprise

— Oliver —

She called him, amused.

— You may had the luck of meeting the two most powerful people in the Academy —

Oliver swallowed

— Charles Ardeen Third, grandson of the Great Ardeen, and Headmaster of the School Council —

Then her eyes turned shady

— And Johannes Krähen, Master of Faenic Arts —

Oliver raised an eyebrow and then asked

— Should that… tell me something or what? I don’t get it —

America exhaled

— That’s why you’re screwed —

Then she took her keys, brushed her teeth, and with her hair still wavy and wild, both went out on America’s truck. Their next stop was a cabin in the middle of the woods, where a familiar face waited for them.

— Hey, are you guys ok? —

Said Park sitting on the front, making a white canvas into the painting of a landscape. It was a lost place inside the mountain, just a few miles from both Creekshaw and Hollow Creek. For Oliver, it was no different from the temple or the well they had been before.

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— There are too many lost places in nature like this, aren’t? —

— They are in fact, yes —

Answered Park friendly, America rushed him instantly, holding the letter in his hand.

— Could you please explain to him what his into? —

Park looked at it with distrust first and then took it in his hands. After a quick overview, he threw a look at the blond.

— Did anything else arrive with it? —

— A package, I haven’t opened it yet —

— Nice, then everything’s in order —

He put the letter on a stool aside and kept painting, carefully watching behind his glasses with the only eye he had. A white medical patch covered the other.

— Don’t you get it either? He’s being summoned to the Second Son’s! —

Oliver watched her estranged for a second.

— Wow, wait, what’s that? you didn’t mention before —

— I know —

Park said

— I submitted his application hoping for that —

Then, the others both stared at Park.

— You did what? —

— So it was you —

Park looked at Oliver for a second and gave him a wink.

— You’re completely nuts —

Then America headed back to her truck, sat down in the driver’s seat with her arms crossed, and stayed like that with a grumpy face for the next five minutes straight.

— You think she’ll be okay? —

Oliver asked after a while, sitting down on the stool where the letter was before. Parked gave her a look from the distance.

— She’ll overcome it eventually —

Oliver had his doubts. Theme Park added.

— But she’s right, you’re in a real pinch if you don’t start training right now —

— Training you say, but I don’t even know for what —

It was subtle, but Oliver heard it, how Park put aside his brush. He was serious this time.

— Hear me, Oliver —

He said

— All kinds of people give their best to enter this place, money, attitude, and experience, they surpass you in all regards, and most of them aren’t even allowed to step inside the Academy’s grounds —

Oliver stared at him white

— What’s most, you’ve skipped all the bars everyone else needs to get in, that alone will make you a lot of enemies, powerful people, it’s up to you to show them why you’ve been chosen —

— But… how? —

— The Second Son’s —

Park stated

— It’s a welcoming tournament where little are invited, and everyone thrives to show their value as students; status, money, connections, these are all things in-game during the event —

Then, the slanted eyes put a hand on Oliver’s shoulder.

— What…? —

But before Oliver could speak his question out, Park had already an answer.

— Win —

That was the only thing he said. Then, America’s voice stole Oliver’s attention.

— So? what the hell are you gonna do —

Park looked at both lightly, while picking his paint right where he had let it a minute before.

— I… need to train —

Said Oliver, hesitant.

— … —

America threw a hostile look at Park.

— And who’s going to train this… —

She looked at Oliver, and remembered the last night.

— … boy —

— You, of course —

America’s eyes opened wide

— Me!? —

Park didn’t even bother in looking at her

— I can’t train him! —

— Why not? —

Park argued.

— I just… can’t —

— You won the last one, isn’t? I’ll say you’re the perfect choice —

Oliver and America looked at each other, she didn’t find the words to explain.

— I… I… —

— I took that as a yes, I certainly can’t, my doctor prescribed absolute rest —

Oliver looked at him and noticed the bandages under the thin clothes.

— Are you OK by the way? Sorry I didn’t ask before —

— I’m perfectly fine, he overreacted —

America couldn't believe it

— Anyway, I’ll help you as much as I can, where’s that package? —

Oliver stood out of the stool as Park did the same.

— I’ll go for it, don’t worry —

— Thanks, let’s do it inside —

Once inside of it, the purpose of the cabin became clear for Oliver. It was a retirement cabin, a place to go and get lost for a few days, a place to work or get the work out of your head. Simple, clean, and neat, a perfect square made out of wood logs with only a few things inside. A bed, a working table, a fireplace for the winter, and cookware among other pots and tools of the sort. It wasn’t difficult to imagine how Park was able to live in that place, at that point, it only seemed logical for Oliver to find him in those types of places. What the blond asked himself was if he lived that way always, like a folktale character.

— I know what you’re thinking, but I only use this for spread retirements —

Said Park suddenly, Oliver wasn’t sure if he had said something, or his face just revealed too much of what was inside his head.

— It looks comfortable —

Was the only thing he thought of adding.

— And it is, now, where were we? —

America stepped quickly ahead of them, fixing her eyes on the cookware

— You have anything to eat? —

— I have a couple of rabbits ready to fire if that’s what you ask —

America made an ick face. Then, thought about it.

— Ok, I’ll try —

When Oliver put the box on top of the working table, Park pulled a hunting knife out of nowhere.

— Wow, did you have that with you all the time? —

— It’s the wilderness, my friend, you must be prepared —

He said, way too excited for cutting the strings of the box. When he finished unwrapping the paper around it, the three objects lay orderly one next to the order on the wooden surface.

They were a hard-cover in leather book, decorated with golden threads, and with no recognizable inscriptions anywhere. A fountain pen carved in wood and painted in black with the motto of the Academy engraved in gold, saying “Scribere tue Fabula”. And a warded old-looking key in the same yellowish colour.

Staring at them, like they were mythic, magical to discover mystical objects, Oliver beheld their discovery. Then, Park dropped the knife, that fell into the floor with a deaf sound.

— Well, that’s disappointing, they just send you your scholar materials —