It was good that they were in the north where the winds were cold.
The beastman’s body hung high over the main gates, swaying ever so often, his shadow following the wind. His skin had turned gray, and the part around his neck where the noose had been tightened was stretching, the colors of purple blood and sickly pink appearing underneath. His stomach had swelled. Even under the beastman’s abundant hair, the signs of decay could be clearly seen.
“Bring it down.”
Shaden watched as the noose was lowered, dropping the body onto the floor. Shaden was familiar with death. He’d hunted and butchered. He abhorred the odor of rotting flesh, and had the body been left down south, he knew he would be emptying his guts by now.
The beastman’s eyes had bulged out due to the pressure of the rope, staring into nothing. Despite circulating, Shaden could feel a hint of cold sweat shiver down his back.
“What are you doing? Hurry up and come.”
Hinz motioned to Shaden in an annoyed voice. “Are you afraid of a corpse? Do you think this is dirty?”
“No.”
“Then get on with it.”
Shaden was a ‘special’ soldier now. Rankless, he only answered to Pillen and the Nieuts. Officially, at least. And because he had a special position, he didn’t have a part in the training session the squadrons were doing right now, leaving him with free time. Then Hinz had volunteered to remove the corpse that might burst, and he’d told Shaden to come with him without expecting another answer. Feeling guilty that he was the only one who was doing nothing, he’d joined.
“Let me tell you something, kid,” Hinz said as they threw the corpse into a cart. “You keep acting like that, you’re only going to embarrass yourself.”
“Like what?”
Hinz scowled. “Lazing around. You need to be more vigorous. When someone is doing something, you should offer to help them, being the lowest-ranked. That’s common sense. What were you going to do if I hadn’t called you? Just watch?”
Shaden kept his mouth shut.
“Common sense, brat. Common sense.”
Hinz sighed deeply, kicking the cart. “You’re irredeemable,” he muttered.
“I’m only doing what I was assigned.”
“The fuck? Are you serious?”
Hinz put a hand to his forehead. “I’m done. You should be struggling to learn, not talking back like a child. Why are you even here? Fuck, go back. I’m doing this myself. Go tell the leader that you want to rest.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so angry,” Shaden frowned.
“I don’t know why you’re here. Don’t be so cocky, brat. No matter how great you are, you can’t run an army alone. You don’t even understand the basics.”
Hinz pulled the cart away from the fortress, going into the wild where the body would be disposed of. Shaden clenched his fists, looking back. The guards had heard them, and he felt his cheeks grow hot.
He had no allies here. The Nieuts didn’t think of him as their superior. Not yet. He was just an heir, here to learn from them. And he’d learned a few things from Patran.
“Traveling alone is not allowed!” Shaden shouted, catching up to the cart. “You’re breaking the rules.”
“Then come along as you should have!” Hinz barked back.
Shaden clenched his teeth. It would be so easy to snap his limbs, but he knew it would be a bad idea. According to Patran, Hinz was considered to be a good soldier with much to learn from. Patran had advised him to learn from him. Shaden didn’t get it.
Hinz stopped the cart, grabbing a shovel and tossing it to Shaden, who caught it before it slammed into his face. Pointing at the ground, Hinz said, “Dig.”
“And you?”
“What do you think?”
Hinz thrust his shovel into the ground, stepping on the back part to stick it in deeper. With one fluid motion, he threw the dirt aside, then looked up.
“What are you doing?” he demanded. “Are you just going to stand there?”
“We don’t need to dig,” Shaden replied. Hinz looked as if he would throw his fist any second.
“What do you mean?”
“If you would step back, I’ll show you.”
Hinz stepped back, and Shaden dug his magic deep into the earth, feeling out a good portion. Raising his palm, he ripped out a large heap of dirt and rocks from the ground, placing it next to the deep hole he’d just made.
Hinz’s frown was satisfying to look at.
“I’m different from you,” Shaden said, levitating the corpse. “I don’t need to grovel and bend over at every command, because I have the ability to make up for it.”
He placed the beastman’s body into the hole then pushed the pile of dirt over it. Within seconds, the corpse had been buried, and he flattened the earth with magic until it returned to its original shape. Hinz’s arms were crossed, his frown still deep.
“So what if you can use magic?” Hinz said. “Magic uses too much mana—if you did that out there, you’d be dead within two days.”
“That will never happen,” Shaden promised. “Why would you care if I died?”
“You’re right,” Hinz muttered, turning around and leaving with a cart. “Why should I care?”
Shaden sighed, staying in place for a while until Hinz became a dot in the distance. The others didn’t care about what he did, and it seemed to him like Hinz wouldn’t care anymore either. Fine, it would make his life easier.
He kicked a stone across the ground, feeling irritated. Was he really in the wrong? He’d joined the squadron again, hoping to prove himself, to earn their respect—but all he felt now was annoyance. Maybe it had been wrong deciding to join again, but if he’d learned one thing in the waking world, it was that he hated losing. If he gave up, even with all of the power he possessed, how pathetic would he be?
Learn from Hinz, Patran had advised. It would be faster that way, apparently, but Shaden didn’t want to learn from a man who treated him like nothing, refusing to explain anything. He’d started to hate the soldier and his irritated look.
Fine. He’d show the guy—he’d show everyone what he was made of. What reason did he have to hide his powers? If he was using his stealth anyway, no one would be able to track him down. And Skotos was hidden from the world. If his show of powers became a burden to the Nieuts—well, they’d have to deal with it.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
“What’s all of this?” Pillen asked, his eyes wide.
All of the rats and vermin had gathered in front of the Commander’s Abode, and passing soldiers looked warily at the mass of rodents, some fetching sticks from the training grounds. A horrible stench was filling the air, and Shaden forced himself not to breathe in too deeply, lest he take the full force of the small horde through his nose.
“This is something I learned from the Jakhar Kishaks,” Shaden told Pillen. “I thought everyone here would be better off without these animals lurking around. They’re a source of disease.”
“That’s—incredible,” Pillen nodded, covering his nose. “Please, take them away.”
So Shaden did. He drove the vermin out of the fortress and into the wild where they would either live off the land, starve, or be eaten. It saddened him a little, but he knew how filthy the animals could be. They’d be better off without them.
Later on, after training, when the rest of his squadron was doing their supplementary drills, Shaden went to the stables where the horses were standing by. It was their turn to clean that week and they hadn’t done it yet. After pulling the horses out, he used water to wash away the filth, scrubbing the floor with brushes via telekinesis. He was good at it. Within twenty minutes, all of the stables had been cleaned in every nook and cranny, and Shaden had even dried it to make it perfect. The steam had attracted many eyes like before, but he carried on, ignoring everyone. They could look, and they could see for themselves.
“You are lively lately,” the Commander said one dinner. “Did something happen?”
“I might as well do everything I can since everyone seems so upset that I’m not doing enough,” Shaden shrugged.
Nicar raised an eyebrow, as did Benavon. Perren seemed uninterested, and Pillen nodded in approval.
“There’s a saying: a diligent cadet is better than a lazy Commander,” Pillen said. “You’re doing very well. Keep it up.”
It felt like slaving away sometimes, but none of the chores were difficult to do. He’d wave his hands, use some magic, and the ordeal would be done. So Shaden decided to keep at it, to see what would happen if he did the things no one else wanted to do. Taking out the leftovers, scrubbing the road, washing the walls, digging holes, checking for cracks in the wall—he tried all of them for an hour or two after training was done. He volunteered for every task, joining other soldiers in the fortress, and by the end of the month, he’d tried everything. He made up for his lack of experience through sheer power and mana; while others grew tired, he labored on, showing them how an eleven-year-old child could do more than everything they had done combined.
Now that he knew, it was easy. He’d just had to find things to do, and what Hinz had told him began to make sense to him, though he didn’t like it. But soon, he discovered that people had begun treating him differently, some inviting him for drinks (which he detoxified before swallowing) while others commended him during his work. And he felt satisfaction as well, looking at everything he’d done. The buildings were cleaner, the paths neater, and the place less smelly. The cooks would sometimes call him to give him berries and sweet crackers.
The small things made him happy. He’d initially thought of proving himself as a great ordeal where he’d face down a dragon while the soldiers hid in terror, but those kinds of happenings were rare. No; he proved himself by being the best. He learned whatever he could, this time with growing confidence, and he became good at working, surpassing everyone in terms of speed and strength. Though when it came to intricate matters, such as setting up efficient mounds for protection, he relied on the wisdom of the older soldiers, asking whatever he could.
In the beginning, many had been reluctant to reply. But they all saw his efforts, and he knew they were warming up to him. It was never much—just one or two tasks a day. But doing it for a month straight without missing a single day, had built up to something he could take pride in.
And yet—
Every time Hinz ignored his questions or turned his face away from him—
He felt like everything he’d built up was crumbling down.
He wanted to bash the guy in the face, but the man was keeping true to his word,
Hinz had stopped caring completely.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
Demund looked out of the window of the airplane, feeling strangely empty. Edan was in the seat next to him, his eyes covered with a sleep mask. Enariss should have been there, but she was long gone; she’d be walking on the Preliminary Islands by now.
He had more things than he’d begun with. He’d have to take Enariss’s belongings to her house, though the contents of her project would be kept at the school until she returned. He had a certificate he’d received, distinguishing him as one of the five to be voted on, and a celebratory badge pinned onto his clothes. He’d be allowed to wear it in school. Though he hadn’t taken one of the top three spots that came with monetary prizes, he’d still received recognition and prestige. Even Edan didn’t have his badge since he’d been dropped earlier.
Yet—he felt as if he’d lost everything. A sense of emptiness was consuming him, and he stared at the clouds, finding meaning in their random shapes. He’d tried hard as Demund, and somewhat as Shaden, but the final piece was missing in both lives.
Like Hinz could affect him, he thought.
The truth was, he was. If he didn’t completely demolish the man and make him grovel before him in terror, he wouldn’t be satisfied…
Demund sighed. Living among them was making his thoughts grow more violent. He wondered what his parents would think of it. They’d always been protective of him. If they knew the things he’d seen, they’d tell him to stop using his powers right away.
He wrinkled his nose. He could still smell the sickening rot of the beastman’s decaying body. The earth, while not in the state of permafrost, had been very hard. If winter arrived quickly, the beastman’s corpse would fail to decompose, remaining as the eye-bulging, neck-bursting, stomach-swelled tragedy it had been…
Right. Focused on his voluntary chores, he’d forgotten about the most important thing—the upcoming conflicts that would inevitably arrive. After nosing around more, he’d discovered that it was a sort of twisted tradition to raid beastman villages beyond the mountains every winter, proving to them that they weren’t a force to be reckoned with. And it would happen once every three years when the ice and snow would be at its fiercest—by going in the season where the furred beastmen had an advantage, the people of Bughast would prove their ferocity.
At least, that was what he’d heard from Pillen. And the soldiers of Fort Avagal would be at the forefront, becoming the spark for the flames that raged through the winter. Perhaps it was because of this fierceness that the secluded human nation could survive surrounded by the physically superior beastmen—by bearing sharper fangs in place of larger ones.
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Would he be able to keep up? Physically, it wouldn’t be a problem, but he’d heard rumors. The soldiers had been anticipating pillaging, and he wasn’t sure if he could comfortably watch people being killed, even if they were beastmen. The soldiers talked about them like animals, but Shaden had seen Mistilia.
He wondered what the wolf girl was doing. How long had it been—three years? She would be thirteen by now, still a child, but only three years younger than his waking self.
Sixteen—was he really sixteen? The moments as Shaden had felt like a game initially, where hours would pass without his real self changing too much. But lately, the seconds felt heavier, and time felt more tangible. Whereas before he’d wake up refreshed, worries clouded his mind nowadays.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The other world was meant to be a break from reality.
He was too bothered to sleep, and the movie he was watching didn’t reach his memory. When he returned to school, he’d have to catch up on studying again, though he’d have more time now that his project was finished. Now that Enariss was gone, there was no one nearby to hang out with since Riley and Rhyne lived far away. He wouldn’t have a ride to go to their places anymore either. Public transportation was doable but tiring.
If there was one thing that was working out for him, it was that his control over his mana was becoming better. There were short instances where he felt it work, like gears clicking into place. And he’d learned something new, something he hadn’t shown during the Junior’s Advancement because of its uniqueness—but it gave him new joys. Petting stray cats, for example. It never lasted long, but when it worked, he couldn’t have felt better. The hours and hours of practice were bearing fruit.
“Are you sleeping?”
“No,” Demund replied. Edan was pushing away his sleeping mask, stretching with a big yawn.
“What—oh. That’s a funny movie,” Edan blinked, looking at Demund’s screen. “I wanted to ask—besides Enariss, what other friends do you have?”
“Friends? Riley and Rhyne, I guess,” Demund said.
“Right. Besides those two.”
“There was Wane,” Demund recalled. “He helped me out when I lost my leg.”
“Wane?”
“He went missing.”
The guy had existed. After his disappearance, Demund hadn’t cared enough to discover where he’d gone off to. Thinking back, he felt bad about it now. The guy had been eager to help.
“Darn. I think you’d be better off with more friends,” Edan whistled. “The party I was talking about. I was thinking, we could do it this weekend. Sounds good?”
“This weekend? I don’t know. There’s a lot of material I missed.”
“Come on, it’s okay to relax for a bit. It’ll be fun. Everyone will be there. Trust me, being a year above you, grades aren’t as important as you’d think they are.”
Demund was skeptical, hearing from a guy who was surrounded by wealth. But the guy had been nice to him. He was beginning to appreciate him.
“I’ll think about it,” Demund told him. “If the things I missed aren’t too hard, I’ll come.”
“That’s good, that’s good,” Edan nodded. “I’ll chat you the address. Do you have a ride? Or nice clothes? The ones I gave you might be too formal.”
“Public transportation? And I think I have some decent clothes.”
“Hmm. I doubt it. You know what, are you free tomorrow?”
“School, right?”
“What! You’re going? They’re giving us a free day off.”
Demund shrugged.
“Then after school. Are you free?”
“I am. But—”
“It won’t take long. One hour max. I’m getting you some better clothes.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I insist,” Edan waved leisurely.
“I’ll have to go to the party, won’t I?”
“If you want to. I promise it will be the best party ever.”
Demund thought for a second. With the things he was experiencing lately, a change of pace, a break of habit didn’t sound too bad. Having fun…studying was fun, but it was tiring sometimes. He’d never tried partying before.
“Okay. I’ll see you after school tomorrow,” Demund decided.
Edan grinned, returning the sleeping mask over his eyes.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
Demund was beginning to regret his decision.
Rows and rows of cars had been parked along the sidewalk, and the sound of exciting music boomed dully through the evening air, lights flickering from Edan’s isolated residence. He’d followed the address and had walked from the nearest bus station, but it looked like he was the only one who’d done that.
He texted Edan to let him know that he was here, and he peeked across the corner, eyeing the students on the lawn and beyond the windows. They all look richly—but casually dressed, much like the attire he was wearing at the moment. He felt awkward in it. One stain would cost his monthly allowance. Edan had brushed it off as a small gift, but for Demund, it was the most expensive thing he’d received.
While the others were talking to each other, Demund quietly moved across the pathway to the house, looking around for people he knew. There were familiar faces, but none he was close with—just faces he’d see around in school. No…there was a distinction. There wasn’t a single person from the normal classes. All of them were people he’d seen from the special side of the school.
He went inside. It was dark, and lights were flashing around to the beat of the music. Edan had told him to wait there, and within a minute, the owner of the house made himself known, spreading his arms wide.
“The main guest arrives!” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Did you eat?”
“A little,” Demund replied.
“Let’s head to the kitchen then. The main party is there.”
Demund wrinkled his nose. “Do I smell alcohol?”
“Sure you do!”
He should have headed out then, but Edan put his arm around his shoulders, pulling him deeper into the house. Demund saw casually-dressed students, some thick with makeup, laughing and singing with the music, many of them with cups in their hands, and the smell of hand sanitizer grew thicker, mixed with the sweet aroma of fruit.
“We have other drinks if you’re not a drinker,” Edan said. “But what fun is a party without drinks?”
“Is this allowed?”
“Think of it as a precursor to adult life,” Edan chuckled, high-fiving another guy. “Next year for me, two years for you. What’s the harm in starting early?”
To be honest, Demund—well, Shaden did have drinking experience, but he’d always detoxified the alcohol before swallowing it. Once or twice where he hadn’t, his face had felt hot. It had been strange, and he hadn’t liked alcohol after that.
“I think I’ll go for non-alcoholic drinks,” Demund told Edan. “Snacks would be nice.”
“We have plenty of snacks.” Edan greeted another person. “Hey, what’s up? Oh, this is Demund. He’s the guy who came out on television with Enariss. Girls, I’m okay with it, but your parents might not be. Don’t overdo it.”
The group of young girls giggled. “You’re so considerate,” one of them said. “I missed these parties.”
“Glad you like it.”
“Who’s the guy?”
“He’s Demund, one of the smartest guys in school. We’re friends now.”
More giggles. Demund was glad that his cheeks were hidden in the dim atmosphere.
“Here.”
Demund accepted the cup, sitting down on a chair with a generous plateful of snacks. Edan sat down next to him, taking out his phone.
“Do you have anything you’d like to listen to?” he asked. “It’s done by votes, but I’ll make yours an exception.”
“I don’t listen to songs much,” Demund said.
“How about one of Aia Laia’s?”
After their encounter, Demund had listened to her music out of curiosity, and they’d been pleasant to listen to. But he was never an avid music lover. Her performances had been more interesting, where she’d masterfully crafted light into a lively show.
“Why not. I liked ‘The Two of Us.’
“Oh, that one’s a classic. Sorry, wait here for a moment. You can tour the house if you want.”
Edan got up to talk to the other students as the host of the party. From the looks of it, everyone seemed to like him. They smiled when he approached and laughed when he spoke. Demund took a sip from his drink. He was practically invisible right now, muffled by the music and extroverted energy. At least the snacks were delicious.
He didn’t know how everyone was so lively and carefree. Maybe it was the alcohol, but they sang their songs without hesitation, not caring about the quality of their voices. It looked fun. It looked like what he’d do with Jothan if they were feeling funny.
“Demund! Come over here!” Edan called out of the blue.
So he got up reluctantly, heading over to the guy. Demund hadn’t known that Edan had called him in front of a partying crowd, pulling a lot of eyes towards them. Demund didn’t particularly have stage fright, but he didn’t like being in the center of attention.
“This is Demund. He’s a sophomore, and he was in the top five for the Junior’s Advancement!” Edan announced, waving his cup. “By the way, he’s friends with Aia Laia. He’s kind of shy, so will you help him party?”
The crowd cheered a little. Some of them looked like they’d fall over. But when Edan pressed the button and Demund’s song came up, the crowd cheered louder. Edan had a portable mike in his hand, and when he sang, the crowd repeated after him:
“It’s only me and you-oo-oo!”
“And that makes it two-oo-oo!”
Demund was impressed by the guy’s endless energy. Now he realized that he’d been holding himself back during their trip. While Demund didn’t sing along, he found himself swaying with the beat, smiling, getting caught up in the mood. Alcohol was a fun thing. It made hardened soldiers laugh and caused awkward teenagers to act freely.
Though it had its weirder parts.
“Dave’s about to puke! Get him a bowl! Get him to the bathroom!”
“Oh, gosh, it’s Davis again?”
“Plastic bag! Plastic bag!”
Suddenly, the room was chaotic as people scrambled to get away from the student who was about to vomit, clutching his mouth as guys supported him by the arms, dragging him elsewhere. Within a few seconds though, the room had returned to its normal, beat-heavy state.
“There are always people who don’t know their limits,” Edan shook his head. “Just don’t drink if you can’t handle it.”
Davis. Where had Demund heard that name? Before he could remember, Edan cheered—the next song had come on.
“Yo, sick moves, Max.”
“Yeah, hey, hey, hey—”
Demund didn’t know any of the songs, so he couldn’t understand what all the fun was about. It apparently showed on his face, because Edan places a hand on his shoulder.
“Not used it, hmm?” he smiled. “That’s okay. You need to learn how to enjoy a good party. Once you do, you can have fun anywhere. Get in the mood and party.”
“I don’t know. It feels strange.”
“It’s like that in the beginning. You’ll get used to it. Having a drink will make it way easier, I promise.”
Demund glanced at the cocktail bowl. It looked very appetizing, and it looked like fun. He wasn’t having fun at the moment, but alcohol—maybe alcohol would be able to change that.
He imagined himself gulping down a jar of it, because lively with every mouthful. He’d dance and sing and shout, and the crowd would celebrate with him, and they’d quickly become best buddies. He would have the greatest time in his life, he’d been told. The ethanol would make him bubbly, happy, and more extroverted—he’d become a popular guy.
“I’ll have to pass,” Demund refused. “My parents are against drinking.”
“Your parents aren’t here right now.”
“Yeah, but—no. Maybe later.”
“Suit yourself.”
⤙ ◯ ⤚
“Demund, Demund, Demund!”
The crowd whooped as Demund did a backflip, landing with a giant grin on his face.
He felt like he could take on the world. It was a breakthrough high all over again (he hadn’t had those in a long time) but this time with the help of alcohol. The beginning had been rough, but after downing one cup, the rest had been easier.
“A round of applause for Demund!” Edan said, and the crowd cheered once more. Demund bowed.
“Thank you, thank you,” he said happily. “Does anyone want to see some magic tricks?”
The current mood made it possible for anything to be fun, and when Demund lit his fingers on fire (all of them at once, to his surprise; he’d only been able to do four before), the students exploded—the guys roaring in pleasant surprise while the girls squealed in delight. Demund waved his hands around, shouting, “I’m on fire!”
Something was off with himself, but he didn’t—couldn’t care. It had been a long time since he’d had this much fun. It had been a long time since he’d felt wholly happy. From the corner of his eye, he saw that the time was passing nine-thirty, and nodding at the merry crowd, he stumbled towards Edan, who seemed to be fine.
“Hey—I need to go home,” he breathed, leaning against the wall.
“Already?”
“Told my parents I’d be home by ten. They worry a lot.”
“Why not stay the night?” Edan offered. “I could give you a room.”
“There’s school tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s a Sunday.”
“I need to go.”
“Well, let me see if anyone’s heading to your neighborhood.”
“I can go alone. See you.”
Edan didn’t stop him as Demund went out of the house, putting on his shoes. The music was loud behind him, and he probably should have waited until the alcohol wore off, but his mind was intent on returning to his house. As he walked down the street with no one to guide him, he felt tired, and he circulated instinctively.
Clarity returned to his mind, though the happiness was still there. Humming, he walked under the streetlights, making his way to the bus station.
“My parents are going to kill me,” he realized, rubbing his head. The stench of alcohol was strong on him even though he’d drunk—two or three glasses? The fruity sweetness had made it easy to swallow, and he’d gulped it down after he’d been dragged into a drinking game. He shouldn’t have lost, but he had, and now his parents would give him an earful.
He reached his house and tip-toed inside, making the smallest noise possible.
“Welcome back.”
His mom was at the dining table, looking at him from across the room.
“You don’t have to wait for me,” Demund sighed, praying that she wouldn’t come to him. Was his face red right now? He’d tried to brush off the smell as much as he could on the way home. Alcohol dried quickly, right?
“I was worried,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Dad doesn’t worry as much. You should be like him more.”
“You know he’s very tired from work.”
“Mom—I’m not a kid.”
She nodded, getting up. “I’ll go to sleep now.”
“Goodnight.”
He stood still as she ascended the stairs. It seemed endless until she disappeared from his sight, and he breathed out in relief, quickly heading to the bathroom. He’d throw his clothes into the washing machine, take a quick shower, and go to bed—the perfect plan. He’d managed to pass through the danger safely.
Still…his mother had been worrying too much since the accident. If he ever came back from running too late, she’d be downstairs, waiting for him. He’d told her not to every single time, and yet she waited.
Looking in the mirror, he saw an immature boy staring back. Had she discovered that he’d been drinking, it would have frightened her even more.
It had been fun. The effects had worn off, but he still remembered the warm comfort that the substance had given him. It had made him outgoing and brave—qualities he wished he had more.
He shook his head.
It could wait until he was an adult. He didn’t want to make his mom worry more.
That night, he vowed that he wouldn’t drink again until he turned old enough.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
“Shoot.”
He gripped his phone, dread filling his stomach.
In their study group chat room, Rhyne had uploaded a video. It was a video of a person within a dark room with flashing lights doing a backflip, summoning fire in his hands. The person’s face was too dark to make out, but if the video was paused at the right moment, it was clear that the person in question was no other than himself.
‘You’re a superstar now, lol’ was Rhyne’s message.
‘You hung out with Edan? That’s unexpected,’ Riley texted.
‘Do you know him?’ Demund asked. He was glad that his friends hadn’t noticed his drunkenness.
‘Yeah. He visits the MMA Club sometimes. It’s kinda weird to see you with him.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, in middle school he was rejected by Enariss.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Rhyne recalled.
‘I guess it doesn’t matter now.’
‘I’m surprised you guys know him. I guess he's that popular.’
‘Eh. You saw him too, remember?’ Rhyne said. ‘At the MMA Club.’
‘Did I?’
‘Yeah. There was that guy who challenged you. I think Edan leads that group.’
‘Who?’
‘I think it was Davis?’
Davis. A memory resurfaced, and his eyes widened in realization. Davis was the guy with thickening skin who had persisted in challenging him. And Edan led the group he was in.
Demund frowned.
He hoped he was overthinking things.