Wounds heal over time — all wounds eventually turn to ashes, but there’s something ironic about that. The wound may be gone, but the cause and the event will remain in the person’s life, perhaps even after they’re gone. What is the wound, but a memento of the accident? Even if you lose the souvenir, does it matter?

All things turn to dust, but we humans don’t live in such scales, but in our day-to-day lives. Each cut and broken bones mean a lot to us, and lost friends and family, while those wounds may heal as well, they’re never truly gone.

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Attila. She’s one of my first friends — and only friends. I remember the first time we met, it was at a grown-up party while we were small. Clinging to our fathers’ trousers as all children do, we greet each other without much heart, as all adults do. However, when we meet people, sometimes we come across memorable ones — some lasting a lifetime — and only then do we reveal our hearts.

The first thing my child brain noticed was the colour of her skin of course. It was a shade of red — like a beetroot or a watermelon — and it was very well taken care of as all nobles do. While it was clear to the adults their cheap dresses, fake watches and the smell of the middle class, the children were aware of no such things.

Many children were a bit afraid of her, afraid that she was a demon and from the stories they heard and the news they saw, demons were to be feared. However, back then, I had high confidence in myself. I think this was around a week after I found out that I was of heroic bloodline — I was on cloud nine. Of course, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to observe a demon closely — I may have had to fight one in the future.

Cautiously, I led my father to Attila’s, tugging at his delicate fabric. Thankfully, he had read of Attila’s father’s name in the news that morning, an obscure article about the wonders of Somniology and the science of dreams. Perhaps if he had not read the article online, ignoring the electronic mail he had received from the newsletter, everything may have been different.

While I’m not sure what the adults talked about, I remember being extremely curious about Sonosis and its people, especially magical creatures. For some reason, I was under the impression that everyone in Sonosis was skilled at taming magical creatures due to the magazines I read, but it seems that even Sonosian citizens view most of these creatures at zoos unless they are specialized explorers.

I don’t remember anything specific other than that, but we did talk a lot that day, and fortunately, it seems that my father and her father did as well.

…Interesting.

Attila isn’t just a demon, but someone’s daughter, someone’s student and my best friend. I can’t imagine a life without her, even if she can be annoying sometimes.

I suppose it’s like having siblings.

Do you have siblings?

Of course. Twelve of those little things.

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Then I believe you can understand this feeling.

…

Attila was always the more proactive one, and I suppose she influenced me greatly in that aspect. Back then, it was always becoming a hero or an explorer — two of my dreams, but I was frail and preferred to stay indoors. It was only when she dragged me outside that I would discover the greater world, and learn what real explorers did. Attila always had a concrete goal in mind too — to be a warrior of justice. She always told me about how in this new age of superheroes, it wouldn’t be too strange to have at least one hero that was a demon. I remember how surprised and excited she was when I showed her my encyclopedia about heroes, and how there were indeed demonic heroes in the past as well, like Gaius and Orchestra (though she was a bit of a special case).

That was another interest we shared — our love for heroes. The concept of grand justice and righteous crusade are inspirations for all of Avangarden, and while I studied the history, Attila enacted those justices herself, which sometimes got her in trouble.

…Heroes, huh. It seems that the meaning of the word has changed.

Well, the definition may have, but the spirit will always remain the same — to protect Avangarden and its people first and foremost, right?

…I suppose.

Under the orange rose sky, it was just another day of the autumn. The clouds form an unravelling painting, the swirls of paint turning left, right, up, and down. Fluid, like droplets in the water. Between the water in the sky and the water of the sea, we live together, in the middle. I remember absorbing this scenery under a tree near the mountains. I often visit the area to pick mushrooms, wild berries and other ingredients for both potions and food, but this time was for leisure. It wasn’t too far back, just after our high school graduation. Even after everything, I still felt like a child, but Attila, well, she was different. It wasn’t arrogance or unfounded optimism, but a fortitude of mind I’ve never seen before. You can see the calm fire in her eyes, controlled but passionate. I suppose she’s one of the reasons why I believe in justice in this world, that those who do good will be rewarded, and sinners will be punished. We both lay silently pondering our future under the apple tree.

“...We’re going to make it,” said Attila.

Both of us were aiming for the most prestigious academy within the city — the Royal Gladiatorial Academy. I couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty, as I was guaranteed a spot due to my mother’s royal blood. However, especially as a demon, Attila would have to prove to the academy that she was worth the investment. Unlike most academies and universities, the RGA is not a business, but a governmental institution created to ensure a steady flow of talented warriors and mages in the new generations. The nation was founded based on talented individuals fighting against the external environment, and if they stopped the faucet, the nation would surely fall.

Attila’s title as a noble was no more than that — a title. She still lived among the populace and was treated equally as all others, and she preferred it that way. Attila was my only connection to the common world — the normal world.

I often wonder what my life would’ve been like if my father had never met Attila’s father if he had ignored the email. Such is the course of life, a pebble can change its trajectory forever.

Attila gave me many things, hope, courage, memories, and I hope I can return the favor someday.

The sky continues to swirl, strangely calming. It’s beautiful.

“We’re all going to make it.”