“Get up, Rhyne,” said Riley. “You can do this. We only have one month left.”

With a grunt, Rhyne took a pillow and covered his face with it, letting out a small scream into the fabric. He fell back on the soft carpet and remained there without movement. Riley nudged him a couple times, but Rhyne wouldn’t budge. Riley let out a small sigh and looked towards Demund and Enariss.

“A small break, maybe?”

Demund meekly smiled at Rhyne’s behavior. He used to act like that too.

“Yeah. It’s been pretty stressful lately. Does that sound okay, Enariss?”

She shrugged. “You guys go ahead. I need to review some more.” She returned to her papers, writing down notes and summarizing elements from the textbook.

Rhyne removed the pillow from his head and turned his eyes to Enariss.

“As expected of the elitist. We stand no chance against her.”

Enariss shot a mean glance at Rhyne. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Rhyne got up from the floor and stretched his arms. “You know, your genius brain and great background. You must have received quality education since when you were born. Totally different from us. Even your ability is the best of the best.”

“I am the same as anyone else. I try my best and reap the results.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

With an exaggerated motion, Rhyne got up from the floor and went to the kitchen to grab something to drink. Demund raised an eyebrow and looked at Riley for clarification for the sudden grumpy shift in Rhyne’s behavior. Riley sighed.

“Sorry guys. You must know, right Enariss? Rhyne lost a match recently against one of the upperclassmen…in a bad way.”

“The one from yesterday?” asked Enariss.

Riley nodded. “He was slightly humiliated. Not really, but I think he feels that way. That and bad grades combined—it’s getting in his head.”

“But his grades aren’t even that bad?” stated Demund.

“Well, compared to you and Enariss, even compared to me. I think he feels lacking.”

“He should try harder then,” said Enariss.

Riley shook his head. “I know he should. I keep telling him. He’s trying, you know—this study group and all. But the stress is getting under him. I think the fact that his sister was at the top of her class is—”

Riley closed his mouth as Rhyne entered the room with two bowls of assorted snacks in his hands. He set it down on the center of the table.

“This one’s on the house,” he announced. “Why’re you all looking at me funny?”

“It’s nothing,” said Riley while patting his friend on the shoulder. “Come on. You can do this.”

“I know, I know.” Rhyne sat down on the ground again and plopped a potato chip in his mouth.

The group continued to study in silence, with them occasionally asking each other on tips for tests and homework. Demund kindly explained concepts that his friends didn’t understand, and he asked Enariss on things he wasn’t fully sure of.

Time went by very slowly. In the very room, there was nobody who thought of studying as something very fun. Demund didn’t particularly hate studying, but looking through the pages and memorizing them, solving equations and passages endlessly—it was a tiring process.

Enariss was just…Enariss. She excelled at everything.

Riley’s ability allowed him to persist. Looking at things from a distant and logical manner, he knew that studying instead of lazing around was for the best. His calculating mind made rational decisions that would make any parent proud.

But Rhyne? Rhyne was a normal guy. He liked games, loved going out. He couldn’t sit indoors and stay put for hours.

He let out a groan and massaged his head and eyes. Looking in front of him, he noticed Demund writing down notes, being ever so focused on the task in front of him. His eyes were clearly centered on the sheets of paper, never wavering, always determined.

Rhyne felt even worse at himself. All of his friends were hard-working, yet he was lazing around.

How? How was he so diligent? Even with everything that happened, how could he be himself? Rhyne had been afraid once, afraid that this friendship would be altered. It hadn’t broken. It had continued like nothing had ever happened, and that was what made it feel unnatural.

He was envious. Demund, who had less than him, suffered more than him—now instructing him. Cheering him on and supporting him. Teaching him.

“Hey…Demund,” Rhyne began.

Demund looked up from his notes. “Hmm?”

Rhyne placed his hands on the desk and bent forward, focusing his eyes on Demund.

“How can you be so…so strong?”

Demund put down his pencil and cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

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Riley paused what he was doing and glanced at Rhyne. More often than not, his friend would blurt out things he didn’t mean, so he wanted to prevent it from happening if necessary.

“Like, you know, with everything that has happened. How can you push forward? How are you able to be so persistent? I don’t understand.”

“I—” Demund paused. He never really had thought about it.

How had he continued?

“It’s because of you guys,” he concluded. “You’re always helping me.”

“You mean because of Enariss?” Rhyne blurted out. “Sometimes I think—”

“Woah, woah, woah, Rhyne!” interjected Riley while putting his hand in front of Rhyne’s face. He stole a glance at Enariss and saw that she was still looking at her papers. But there was no way she didn’t hear that.

“For me, at least,” Demund went on, “friends are enough. My ability also helps. I think it’s similar to Riley’s. Instead of thinking clearly at the moment, I can think clearly in my dream and apply it here.”

A silent mood went through the room, and Rhyne recollected his thoughts.

“I see.” Rhyne grabbed a handful of crackers and chewed on them piece by piece. With the conversation over, everyone returned to their books.

〄 〄 〄

Demund contemplated about his life in the shower. While rubbing his hair with shampoo as he balanced himself on a plastic stool, he looked over his experiences. What Rhyne had said stuck in his mind and nagged at him like a bee sting.

How was he continuing to be so motivated? He wasn’t sure. Honestly, his life was lifeless compared to what others were experiencing. He wasn’t in any clubs; he didn’t have any friends besides the three he always hung out with. Wane, Portia, and Rory were helping him out, but he really never got to know them well. They were just acquaintances.

As for studying. Why was he trying so hard? To get into the special class. Then what? What would he do once he was accepted?

Demund rinsed his hair with water and squirted some body wash onto his hands from a bottle. He carefully rubbed it over his body, making sure his leg scar was properly cleaned. His dreadful leg scar. Even now, the horrible stump made him anxious.

Sure, he wanted to get together with Enariss. But the more he thought about it, the more it seemed impossible. He had been naïve when he had planned to ask her during the school festival. So naïve. So far, he had only received from her. Never once had he given her anything of value or benefited her life in a significant manner. He didn’t know her family, he didn’t know her past. Now that he’d lost a leg, he could see his spot in school so clearly.

All he could do was study. There was nothing else he could do.

Wasn’t his life kind of pathetic? Clinging onto his imaginary world like it was a lifeline. When he awoke, it felt like a dream. But in that world, reality felt like a dream.

He was treating Shaden more like himself than Demund sometimes. The boy who was smart, fit, and excelled at whatever he did. Who was surrounded by a good family that actually cared, siblings who he could hang out with, feet that could jump great distances.

And mana. Becoming a superhero with Jothan was only a dream. But in his dream, it could become a reality. A true hero who could shine in the midst of everything dark.

The showerhead sprayed water onto his face, the droplets dripping down from the top of his head to the ground. His senses felt vivid while he did so. Colorful like when he circulated. Feeling the elements around him with clarity. Perceiving dangers.

Unlike this body.

He rotated the faucet, cutting off the water flow. After shaking his hair, he leaned on the side of the bathtub and carefully got out. With the towel he had prepared beforehand, he wiped the moisture off his body.

Demund looked into the mirror and saw his face. He made some faces for the heck of it.

“What am I doing…” he muttered as he hopped away.

〄 〄 〄

The Swordsmanship Training Academy allowed students to take a two-week break at the end of the year. The time was meant to be spent with family, reminding students of what was important in their lives. Some students—like Mistilia—remained at the Academy to train or simply because they had nowhere else to go. But it was a fact that the Headmistress was much less busy during the holiday season.

It was perfect for Shaden to intrude and beg.

“Please!” insisted Shaden. “I really want to begin real lessons. I don’t want to be alone again swinging my sword aimlessly.”

The Headmistress lowered her glasses and looked at the six-year-old boy in the eyes.

“You are too young.”

“I heard from my father that he began when he was seven. Am I not close enough?”

Shaden stared at the Headmistress with puppy eyes. She of all people would know his talent and potential to grow. The Headmistress set down her cup of tea on the table and crossed her arms.

“There is a reason why we don’t teach children. First of all, it is very difficult.”

“I can handle it.”

“Hmph. Secondly, children become too drunk on their power. You appear to be drunk on your mana, leaking it everywhere you go.”

Shaden guiltily looked down. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Why, yes. Techniques require the precise control of mana within your body to produce an outcome. Inefficient mana consumption like yours will only hinder progress. That is why children like you need time to grow and control yourself.”

“I am trying. Trying every day.”

“That much is true. Your diligence is admirable. However, you are too dependent on mana.”

“I refrain myself more and more. But won’t using mana at a young age increase it more?”

The Headmistress turned a curious eye at Shaden. “From whom did you hear that from?”

“Erm…from a book.”

“Then the book is rubbish. Yes, using mana will make you grow. But the age at which your mana grows most rapidly is when your body grows.”

“During adolescent years?”

“Naturally. I suppose one’s mana will grow significantly before they are three years old. But beyond it, mana is predominantly stagnant. As a part of the body, it changes with the body. And you, child. Your body hasn’t even grown yet.”

“But Headmistress. I can fight on equal terms with Mistilia.”

The Headmistress raised an eyebrow. “Equally? She is going easy on you.”

Shaden shook his head. “Ask her yourself if you need to. She has used strengthening against me a few times. And I managed to resist it.”

“You have?” replied the Headmistress in an amused manner. “Good for you.”

Shaden wrinkled his eyebrows. However, he had to behave. He had to prove to the Headmistress that he could handle himself. If he threw a fit or complained, her opinion of him would go down, and he would have to kiss goodbye to his ideal future.

“Is there any way I can progress?” asked Shaden. “I will do anything. Give me a quest.”

“A quest! Child, you say some amusing things.”

“Please.” Shaden gave the most serious look he could give. The sooner he learned actual martial arts, the sooner he would be able to apply it in reality if he could. But most of all, he hated causing his life to be bland when he had the chance to change it.

“Hmm…” The Headmistress pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Does your father approve?”

“Yes. He said to do what I wanted. Instructor Reedock also had high hopes for me.”

The old lady tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair and leaned back. After a brief pause, she raised her hands in front of her and clapped twice. A high-pitched, sharp noise echoed through the walls.

Moments later, Mistilia poked her head through the door of the Cafeteria with a skewer in her hand. “Did you call, granny?”

“Do not call me that. But yes. I have a question. Do you believe this boy should join the same training as you?”

Mistilia tilted her head to the side in puzzlement. “Why not? Isn’t he going to?”

“Perhaps. You may go now.”

“That’s it? No snacks?”

“You are eating something that was bought with my money, girl.”

Without a second word, the gluttonous wolf disappeared from the door.

Shaden clasped his hands together. “So, is it decided?”

“Let me think, child. Until then, go back to your house and enjoy your holiday.”

Shaden nodded. “Thank you, Headmistress.”