3/21/54

ALEXANDER GALDUR

The artificial beeping of my new alarm clock caused me to wake. I tossed back and forth a few times before following through with my previous plans to wake up earlier. In my newly rested state, I was able to think things through. I woke up at 9:00 Am right now, and training started at 11:15, so I had about two hours and fifteen minutes before Deimos and I would head off to training.

As I thought about the day to come, the sound of a door opening came from the hallway. I hopped out of bed and went to greet the noise. When I opened the door, there I saw Deimos who was already dressed and ready for the day. He looked surprised by my appearance, but he quickly calmed himself and acknowledged me, “Good morning, Lucas. Up earlier than yesterday I see. Good, we won’t have to have such a rushed breakfast then.”

“Morning to you too, Deimos. What will we be having today?” I asked, still somewhat groggily from waking up.

“I’ll make bacon and eggs. You should probably get dressed.” Deimos responded.

“Alright.” I mumbled as I walked off to the couch. Last night, Deimos had put the bag of clothing next to the sofa, so I walked over, scooped it up, and walked back to the bedroom. Reentering my chambers and closing the door, I finally looked around while not tired nor rushed. The bedroom was decently large with enough space to spare even with a queen-sized bed, a desk, a bedside table, and a chair.

The bedside table was to the bed’s right. They were placed against the second wall closest to the door, so when you walked in, you could go ahead and flop straight into sleep, although, you would be perpendicular to the bed. The desk and chair were on the opposite wall of the bed. A window was against the far wall of the room, and on the same wall as the door for entering the bedroom were two other doors.

I got dressed there, stripping from my t-shirt and sweatpants into my new boxers, brand-new, black jeans, and long-sleeve, blue shirt. The two fit me quite well, and the shirt was loose enough that it hid my starvation. I put on my socks and cloak and walked into the bathroom. When I looked at the person in the mirror, it was someone I didn’t recognize. They still looked starved with hollow cheeks and frail extremities, and I would recognize my pale skin, black hair, and black eyes anywhere. Everything else, however, was different. The clothes hid my bony body and my new hair cut screamed “average teen.”

The cloak was the only clothing I felt was familiar; everything else was of such high quality—at least it was from my perspective—that I wanted to handle it with as much care as possible. I shook my head, dismissing the thoughts from my mind. I combed my hair and put on deodorant, and then left, walking back into the hall and into the kitchen. The long-forgotten, pleasant smell of sizzling bacon filled the air and therefore my nose. It was heavenly; I can’t remember the last time I’ve had bacon. I can’t say I’m not excited for the soon-to-be meal.

I walked up next to Deimos and grabbed a small strip of the thinly sliced pork belly off a plate. I bit down on it, feeling the mixture of both crunchy, crispy bits of meat, but at the same time, melting and soft fat. The mixture was so good! All these forgotten luxuries, everything I’ve missed out on over the years, it’s all here, and all for me to enjoy. Wanting to not feel like a freeloader when being provided for, I asked Deimos, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Deimos raised an eyebrow at that but answered the question all the same, “Yeah, could you set the table? We’re gonna need two cups of milk, two forks, two knives, and some fruit. I’ll have a peach; you can take what you want. There are strawberries, blueberries, apples, oranges, tangerines, grapes, apricots, peaches… I like fruit.”

My own eyebrow raised in amusement, “I guess you do. Alright, I’ll get to it.” Remembering the drawers and cabinets that Deimos had opened yesterday, I grabbed all the aforementioned items. With the table set from what I remember my parents telling me was right, I went to move the now-complete pile of bacon to the table. Before I could set it down however, Deimos asked me, “How would you like your eggs?”

I took a moment to think about it before answering, “Scrambled, please.”

Deimos simply nodded before getting back to work. One egg was sizzling in olive oil like how you’d cook one sunny side up. However, once Deimos had mixed together my scrambled eggs, and his egg had formed a mostly-white base, he poured water into the pan and put a lid on it. I couldn’t help but internally question his choices, but when he revealed the results, I realized his reasoning.

He made sure to cook the entire thing with a mixture of the stove and steam, so now, all the whites of the egg were cooked, but the yolk was still jiggly and liquid and jammy. Ew.

Something about the thought of eating liquid, mostly-uncooked eggs is the worst. I can’t understand why so many people like it! The taste, the texture, the feel of it: awful. I held back a wince of disgust while Deimos put the plates down on the table. We sat down and began to eat our meal. It was… awkwardly, awfully quiet. I could see that Deimos was also uncomfortable with the atmosphere, but talking just to break it feels even worse. In the end, we just finished our meals as quickly as possible, placed the dishes in the dishwasher, and we went to our own rooms.

I brushed my teeth and went back to the living room, soon seeing that Deimos had joined me in coming back to the kitchen-dinging-room-living-room room. We wordlessly took note of each other before I sat down on the couch, and Deimos sat at the dining room table. I went flicking through Netflix once more and winded up back on the Umbrella Academy. Right now, there was some really weird romantic tension between Luther and Alison, adopted siblings… Sweet home Alabama~.

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I silently chuckled to myself as Deimos and I waited for time to pass. Deimos spoke up, cutting through the silence, “Alright, it’s 11:00, so we should probably head off now.”

“Alright.” I agreed and hopped off the couch after turning off the tv.

We had a leisurely stroll to the changing room today unlike yesterday’s rush. When walking down the hallways however, I couldn’t help but feel subconscious. There were only stares because I was wearing my cloak with the hood up while there, but I still felt like it was because of my previous outburst.

When we got to the changing room, thankfully there weren’t many there. In addition, only a few of the people there remembered me, the others hadn’t seen me in my rush before. I changed as quickly as I could and met Deimos outside. I was back in the shorts, a t-shirt, and various padding and braces.

Deimos waited at the start area of the jog, but when I went up to meet him, I was interrupted by an unsettling, grinning Trainer Masako, “Hello there, Lucas. I noticed how you were doing extra exercises during magic training. Well, since the punishment was clearly too easy, and you like training so much, we can go ahead and double these again. Yeah?”

An internal scream and overwhelming sense of anger later, I responded, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Great!” She smirked, pure evil radiating off of her joyous smile. A groan filled with spite roared in my head. Hadn’t I already been given my punishment? I was exercising because I didn’t want to waste time!

I internally grumbled but proceeded to start jogging. Even though training started at 11:30, I was glad we got here at 11:00 because I’d need the extra time. The jogging continued, and I was feeling even worse than yesterday. It felt like exhaustion was always right next to me, and I felt it too. With each pained fall of my foot, I cursed Trainer Masako with all I had. Jogging ended, and I happily took the respite. It didn’t last long however, and soon, 11:30 struck along with the real training.

Just like yesterday and the day before, we did basic exercises and stretches to focus on improving our bodies. For some reason, I hadn’t felt the backlash of this intensive training yet, and I had to say I wasn’t excited for it. With the amount of exercise I was doing, I expected my muscles to look like shredded lettuce within the week.

After two hours of excruciating and agonizing exercise, we went straight into magic training. Everyone separated a bit—or a lot in my case as I was still walking away—and started their practicing. Some people flung the classic fireball while other people were doing something a little different. The blonde-haired girl had improved from simply making the pieces of metal float to making them orbit her. As I was watching others practice their abilities, with one unfortunate step, my entire world changed.

The floor underneath me swirled in a mix of black, shining liquid, and it rose up, forming walls around. Just as soon as the walls formed did they collapse in on me. Luckily, I managed to close my eyes and mouth just in time, so I didn’t ingest it.

The distinctly strangely sweet smell made me realize this strange liquid was ink. The ink fell away in a wave around me, and I rubbed at my closed eyes, afraid that when I opened them the liquid would get into my eyes. That was when I heard the calling of the person presumably responsible for that little surprise, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

The voice was soft and smooth. My right eye struggled to look past the blurring of the ink, but the person I saw was relatively young. Maybe around sixteen to eighteen years old. He looked slightly taller than me, and he had long, black hair pulled into a ponytail, espresso skin, blue eyes, a long face, and line stubble facial hair.

“Excuse me, excuse me! Are you okay?” He worriedly asked again.

I confirmed, “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“Thank goodness. Let me help you, um, just give me a second!” He started frantically panicking. He took a deep breath and calmed down. He fell to a crouch and ink started to bubble at his fingertip. He drew a simple picture of ink splitting apart. With another deep breath, the sigil-rune-thing evaporated into nothingness, and the ink on me was thrown off. The ink then, like the sigil-rune-thingamabob, evaporated into the air and out of existence.

I stood there stunned for a moment before snapping out of the small stupor. I looked down at the guy, “Heh, thanks for that. Though, mind telling me about what that was?”

“Oh right, sorry!” He apologized vigorously before answering my question, “I was just practicing magic. I-I’m an ink magician, and my magic works by drawing runes and setting them off. That was me practicing making traps; it would set off when someone stepped on it, and, well, you know.”

He nervously looked down, social anxiety clear on his face. I looked at him, sympathy clear in my voice, “I mean, it… it’s okay. I flashbanged everyone yesterday; it happens. It’s fine.”

He looked back up at me, optimism creeping onto his expression, “Thanks. Still though, is there a way I can make it up to you.”

A way to make it up to me? Was there anything I really needed at this point? I have clothes, I have stuff for hygiene, I guess my financial situation could be better, but I’m being provided for by Deimos, so for the moment, I’m good. Though, there is one thing that would help me throughout training, “Since you seem to be decent at magic, do you have any tips for magic?”

“Hmm, tips for magic?” He murmured to himself, “Just do things that feel natural to you. Look at your personality, look at who you are. I like drawing, so my magic uses art as a medium for its power. Sorry, there’s not much else I can say.”

“Alright, thanks.” I thanked, “I actually think I’ll hang around you; see how you do things. Is that alright?”

“Huh? O-oh, sure!” He stuttered out, now realizing he was about to have an audience.

“And,” I started once more, “Someone else will also be joining us.”

On cue, Deimos stepped forth from a slight distance away, “Hello, I’m Deimos. Thank you for allowing us to hang around.”

“I-it’s no problem, and I’m Maximillian. Please call me Max.” Max introduced.

“I’m who’s left, huh?” I smiled, “I’m Lucas, thanks for having us.”