Standing in a crowd on the cobblestone streets of Dunwy; Paxton, Samson, and Goddard were watching as the recruiters for Wizeman Academy set up a stall for prospective students. It was early in the morning and the line was already starting to form. There must have been an advanced notice, or maybe the recruiters had stopped by earlier to put up a sign. However people knew, it was clear that Wizeman was highly desirable.

  Already hundreds of people were set to sign up, leaving the three recruiters busy dealing with the potential applicants. That gave Paxton, Samson and Goddard free reign to explore. Tapping Samson on the shoulder, Goddard motioned that the meek boy should follow the brothers.

  "So Samson, what do you think of your magic?" Goddard asked as they walked.

  "I don't know," Samson answered in a soft voice.

  "Red magic, it sounds really powerful," Goddard continued. "What do you think you might do with it?"

  "I don't know."

  "Tell me, how do you feel about going to Wizeman?"

  "I think it's great," Samson responded with a soft smile. He was very compressed and inside of himself, never responding with more than five words. The meek boy was shaking slightly, watching his step as he walked alongside the two brothers. Paxton was talking secretly to Crystal by mouthing his words without saying them out loud.

  As they walked, the city of Dunwy was waking up from the previous day.

  People were opening their shops, going for morning exercise, or just checking the weather. The life of normal people was interesting to watch for Paxton, the reborn assassin from another world. People cleaned their front porch, went through their morning routines, and a lot of them looked happy doing it. It was the kind of doldrums that Peter had enjoyed later in life, the simple things that didn't require murder to finish.

  After some undetermined distance, Goddard stopped the whole group.

  "Let's go there," he said, pointing to a small restraunt that also had a short line in it.

  "I'm a little hungry," Samson added.

  "Okay," Paxton said, looking at his brother suspisciously.

  The trio entered the restraunt to hear some shouting at the front of the line. There was an uncouth patron that was loudly yelling at the girl taking his order. The girl didn't seem to mind, but the man was absolutely livid about something.

  The restaurant itself was set up like a fast food chain, which didn't make sense in a world that didn't have mass production. The line was wrapped around a central pole, then extended beyond the outside door.

  "What's going on?" a voice called out from the back of the shop. Entering from the rear of the restraunt, a young boy around Paxton's age looked angrily at the guy who was yelling at the girl.

  "This girl ate some of my chips!" the man bellowed dramatically.

  "Yeah, she does that," the boy responded sourly. "That's why I put extra into the order. What you're getting isn't any bigger than what you're supposed to get."

  "That's ridiculous," the man argued, "what kind of place would do that?"

  "My place," the boy stated with absolute certainty. "Yes, this is my restaurant. And this is my sister. If you don't quiet down, I'm going to have her throw you out."

  The girl was an athletic woman who had some bumps on her chest and exquisite feminine looks. The gentle, sloping curves of her lithe body added sensuous notes to a dynamic symphony. Her lips were pursed as she looked at the older man, her eyes looking at him as though she didn't really see anyone in front of her. The girl was apathetic to the world around her, as if nothing really mattered.

  The man scoffed at the girl in front of him, "How could this little girly toss me out?"

  "Liz, I'll make you a strawberry cake if you throw him out," the little boy told the girl.

  Liz's eyes suddenly came to life, animating her from the boredom of the situation. In a blur of movement, Liz waved her arm around the man's face, then used a foot to knock him on his rear. The big man fell, then Liz grabbed his arm and forcefully dragged him across the floorboards. The man was able to regain his footing just in time to be pulled outside by the powerful Liz. He was tossed from the restaurant and barely managed to stay standing as Liz returned to her brother's side.

  "Good girl," he said, petting his sister as though she was a cat.

  Unbelievably, the girl actaully purred, brushing her head into the boy's palm

  "Barrot Donavon," Goddard announced grandly, "I've come to taste your food!"

  The silence that followed was wholesale embaressment, but Goddard didn't back down from his gradiose greeting.

  "Well then," the boy chef greeted with a smile, "get in line."

  "Nah," Goddard rejected it, "the line's too long. I doubt your food's worth it."

  Barrot Donavon, the boy chef, noticably shifted his superior-persona to extreme rage. A puple wisp appeared around his body as he glared daggers into Goddard, as though the sheer gall with which Goddard continued to exist was the

gravest insult.

  "How dare you!" Barrot shouted, "I will prove to you that my cooking is superior to anything your tastes have ever experienced!"

  "Ha, I doubt that," Goddard laughed, then he grabbed Paxton's arm. "This man is my chef, and he can make food that would make a demon swoon!"

Paxton smiled, but behind his back, he jabbed his thumb into his brother's side for not warning him in advance.

  "I'll take your challenge," Barrot shouted, much to the ire of his patrons.

  "The competition will be to make enough food to feed all of these hungry customers!"

  "Deal!" Goddard agreed, then he pushed Paxton into the kitchen. Barrot and Paxton disappeared into the kitchen, and a group crowded around the small window to watch.

  "Is your brother a chef?" Samson asked meekly.

  "Not at all," Goddard said with a smile. "He just knows things nobody else knows."

  Some time passed, then something came out. It was a large platter with a wide thing on it that only Goddard had seen before. It was about a foot in diameter and had a rim of bread around the edge. The middle of it was covered in an assortment of meats and vegtables which sat on a bed of cheese. The food had been cut through the middle four times, making eight slices.

  Liz took a slice, then bit into it. She smiled brightly, overjoyed at the taste she was getting. A few others joined the circle, taking a few slices and eating them. Another circle of food came out, then another a few minutes after that.

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  Each one was different, with different types of toppings. Every single circle of food that came out was unique, and it quickly started to fill up the people outside. All of them had three common traits: a bread base, a sauce on that, then cheese over the top.

  "LIZ," came a shout from inside the kitchen, "I NEED YOUR HELP!" The girl entered the kitchen with a slice of the circular food in her mouth. After a minute, she reappeared with plates on her arms. She set them at tables, as the chattering and crowding filled up the restaurant completely. Goddard stood by and watched as Liz and Barrot tried to fill up the tables, but most of them already had Paxton's food on them.

  "That's all I can do," Paxton remarked as he left the kitchen, his sleeves unbuttoned to let his arms breathe. His face had a few beads of sweat on it from the heat, and there was a splotch of flour on his face. "Why would you put me on the spot like that, Goddard?"

  "Because, Barrot is very vain when it comes to his cooking," Goddard

  explained. "Once we snag him, his sister will come along, too."

  "Why do we need them both?"

  "Because, they're the future Pride and Gluttony of Sin Squad."

  "That's amazing," Paxton stated, looking at Barrot trying to get the plates out fast enough. However, most of the patrons were already leaving, having filled up on Paxton's cuisine. Liz was still eating the food, giving Paxton pause for thought. The girl hadn't stopped eating the entire time, but she didn't look like she was going to stop. She just ate constantly, filling up her stomach endlessly.

  'That must be Gluttony,' Crystal remarked. 'Then that Barrot boy is Pride. I can sense magic from both of them, but it is nowhere near the level of you or your brother. It is strange, though, how those in this 'Sin Squad' seem to be siblings.'

  When Crystal said that, Paxton paid closer attention to the appearances of Barrot and Liz. Barrot was a short boy with straight, black hair while Liz had wavy, brown hair. Barrot had green eyes while Liz had blue eyes. Barrot had a strong, wide nose while Liz had a thin, sloping nose.

  'You doubt them being siblings?' Crystal summed up. "In my world, siblings had to have similar genetic traits, not identical but close enough to tell. These two don't have anything in common."

  'Where are their parents?' Crystal imposed.

  "That's a good question," Paxton agreed. Going over to Liz, Paxton asked forwardly, "Where are your parents?"

  "My parents are dead," Liz stated, "I don't know about Barrot's parents."

  "What's your story?" Paxton asked as Liz continued to eat his food.

  "I used to be in a really big house," Liz said in an emotionless monotone.

  "It was really cold, and a lot of people were mean to me. I remember meeting Barrot there, and he used to feed me lots of food. We left one day, and Barrot was sad. We were hungry for a while, but Barrot made good food and people were happy. Now they give us money for food."

  "That's quite an interesting story. It sounds like Barrot is a nice person."

  "Yes," Liz agreed, "he makes good food."

  "Hey, you two," Goddard joined the table suddenly with Samson, "fast friends already I see."

  Liz didn't respond, instead, stuffing her mouth as though nothing had been said.

  "Oh yeah, I forgot," Goddard turned to Paxton, "she only talks to people who feed her."

  "Really?" Samson asked, looking at Liz who was eating more of the food.

  "Hey, Liz, what color is your underwear?" Goddard asked without blinking.

  Liz ignored him completely, finishing one slice of food and moving onto another.

  "Liz, why don't you talk to him?" Paxton asked the girl.

  "Because it's bad to talk to strangers," she answered.

  "Then why are you talking to me?"

  "Because strangers don't share their food."

  "That's... true," Paxton said, thinking about her words for a few seconds.

  "What kind of food is this?" she asked Paxton while taking another bite from the crusted edge.

  "It's called 'pizza', and it's a great food where I come from."

  Barrot sidled up behind Liz, his face drained of color as though he was dying inside. He slumped into the seat next to Liz, laying his head against the table.

  "I lost!" he wheezed, feeling nauseous just for saying the words. "How could I lose? I'm the greatest chef in the city, probably the fiefdom! Yet you beat me with this amalgamation of trimmings and meat rinds?! What sort of cuisine is this?"

  "It's something I made myself," Paxton lied with a smile. "It's easy to make, and there are lots of ways to make it taste by changing the toppings."

  "You made it yourself? This isn't some nomad dish, or a southern specialty?"

  "Nope, I just experimented in the kitchen for a few weeks, and this was what came out," Paxton tried to keep the lie going.

  "Amazing," Barrot said, "I've never heard of someone making their own dishes. May I know your name?"

  "Paxton Byron, son of Lord Byron to the east."

  "A noble, eh? I didn't know nobles even bothered with the kitchen."

  "It's my personal belief that it is better to know the troubles of the people than the color of the king's boots. I try to learn all I can."

  "You're not too bad," Barrot remarked.

  "He's a good person," Liz stated, eating some pizza with chopped fruit as a topping. Barrot noticed her still eating, then looked at the last piece. He grabbed it, inspected it for any flaws, then experimentally took a bite. His eyes seemed to roll back into his head as he shuddered to his bones.

  "How is it?" Samson asked quietly.

  "Divine! It's so many flavors that I'm getting a new sensation every time I chew!" Barrot greedily consumed the rest of the slice, then he noticed some leftovers at some other tables. Hurridly, he ran to the next table and took a bite of the pizza, then nearly collapsed onto his knees.

  "Is he okay?" Paxton asked.

  "He likes food more than I do," Liz stated, finishing her meal with a content sigh.

  Barrot went around to each table and tried as many variations of pizza as he could, until he was so stuffed that he waddled back to the table. He just sat down and listened as the group talked about what was going to happen. When Goddard mentioned that him, Paxton, and Samson were going to Wizeman, Barrot suddenly put his two cents in.

  "Wizeman is for fools," Barrot remarked. "It says that it treats everyone fairly, but that's an enormous lie. The rich and famed will always have an easier way through life by scraping off the skin of the rest."

  "I wish you were wrong," Paxton admitted, "but you're right. The only way for the leaders of our government to afford the things they have is to milk it from the normal folks."

  "Exactly," Barrot dramatically threw up his hands as though someone finally undersood. "You should drop out of Wizeman right now. Set up a shop, maybe across the street, and earn your money like a real man."

  "I'd love to, but there's something I need to do," Paxton admitted sadly.

  "It's something my brother and I have been working towards together."

  "Oh, what's that?"

  "We're trying to protect people," Goddard filled in the blanks. "Our father's fief is always under attack by animals from monster country, and it's putting a hard strain on our family. Our dad has asked for a garrison of troops from the capital, but our land isn't rich enough to protect properly."

  "That's horrible," Samson quipped.

  "That's why we're going to Wizeman," Goddard said, "so we might be able to find some good fighters. We've got plenty of land, and it's all fertile soil. We just need the people to farm it and the guards to protect them."

  "You think you can protect them yourself?" Barrot asked, a little quieter as though he was considering something.

  "If we have to," Paxton stated with a damnable determination. He snorted and added, "Pfft, but what could white magic do?"

  "You're a white mage!" Barrot exclaimed in suprise.

  "Yep, and I'm pretty powerful, apparently," Paxton played along. "Why, got an affliction I could cure?"

  "Not me, but Elizabeth has-"

  Liz slapped Barrot on his chest, just hard enough to stop him from talking. He looked at her and saw an alien expression: anger. It took him a moment to realize his mistake, but he swiftly apologized.

  "I'm sorry, that's not something we should talk about," Barrot finished with a heavy sigh.

  "The only two things white magic can't cure is a broken heart or a broken mind," Paxton said. "However, a good friend can cure both."

  "Is that true?" Liz asked in her same monotone.

  "Always," Paxton affirmed, "a good friend is willing to do some crazy things purely in the name of friendship."

  "Oh," she said, then went back to eating some pizza.

"Take me and Goddard," Paxton mentioned, grabbing his brother and putting him into a head-lock. "One time, we were walking through the forest behind our house, when this boar shows up and starts charging at us. It's not an uncommon thing, so we start running back to the house with the boar behind us. I was almost there, and I noticed that Goddard was running next to me. The thing is, I know that he's faster than me, so I yell at him, 'WHY AREN'T YOU RUNNING!?'"

  "And I look at him," Goddard picked up the story, "and I say, 'Because I don't need to run faster than the boar, I just need to run faster than you!'"

   The entire table burst into laughter, all save for Liz who was still eating. Samson and Barrot were reeling with laughter, nearly knocking over some food. Garrot and Paxton looked at each other with chuckling smiles, like a pair of old men.

  "Hey, you two have magic, right?" Goddard asked.

  "Yes," Barrot answered for both of them.

  "Then you'll get into Wizeman for free," Goddard tried to sell it. "If food's all you're worried about, they have world-class chefs who make a buffet for

  all day. You can even eat in the classrooms."

  "I want to go," Liz said with a hungry glint in her eye.

  "We can try out, but that doesn't mean we'll make it," Barrot told her. He sounded really doubtful that they would actually make it in, he truly didn't believe that he would make it in.

  Boy, was he suprised when both he and Liz got a full scholorship.