As Asdras arrived at the Garden Chef's location, dusk had already descended upon the land, casting shadows over the trees and buildings. He had hoped to arrive earlier. However, navigating through winding streets and bidding farewell to Brian had consumed more time than he had anticipated.

In the clearing ahead, a small group of onlookers stood at a respectful distance from three figures clad in emerald-blue attire from the academy. Their attire blended leather and fabric seamlessly, adorned with pale blue jackets displaying the academy's emblem — a white belt above a yellow eye. Masks veiled their faces entirely, except for subtle openings for their eyes and noses.

Knowing they were watching them, Elvira, one of the students, stole a glance at her pocket watch as she surveyed the gathering youths — nine in total. She felt surprised, thinking about her time back then, when it was only five taking the chances.

Enrollment in the academy offered great rewards but also carried significant risks; many hopefuls met their demise within the first year or stumbled during initial exams, leading some to seek alternative paths like military service or religious callings.

"Hey there, folks. Call me Elvira. Time's tickin' faster than a fox in a henhouse, so let's rustle up and git goin'. But before we dive in, gotta set them ground rules straight and offer y'all one last chance to mosey on outta here."

As Elvira's voice echoed through the courtyard, Asdras felt his attention drawn away from the intricate Garden's Chef architecture towards her. But when he did, he went perfectly still. He spotted someone who made him freeze in place. It was her — the girl he had seen on his last visit to town. He knew, deep down, that she was one of the reasons he was there.

Whether it was his lingering stare or her keen instincts, he soon found himself under scrutiny from all angles. Lisandra, with only a faint memory of Asdras, offered a polite smile while Joah observed him with curiosity from across the group.

Elvira's irritation at his apparent disinterest was palpable, causing Asdras to shift uncomfortably under their scrutiny. He cursed his lack of charisma and silently thanked Saint Rose when another student diverted everyone's attention.

"Attention!"

As the other student stepped forward, his voice rang out clearly, and to a careful ear, a tone of annoyance from someone who saw more potential in trading his life against a monster than being there.

Because of this, some fidgeted with their robes, while others stood pondering all the knowledge they learned, be it from their houses, the church's training, or even from the streets, trying to extract as much security and reliability as they could.

"Y'all listen up now," Edsel drawled as he sauntered forward. "Let me lay it out plain and simple for ya:

"First off, this here registration ain't no walk in the park. It's a deal sealed in blood, bindin' you to the academy. Break it, and you'll be feelin' a pinch for a good while.

"Second rule's 'bout the Eruption. Once you're in, you gotta choose: face it head-on or serve the academy for five long years. I ain't spillin' all the beans on this one, our head honcho will fill ya in.

"Last but not least, never go breakin' the academy rules. They'll hand ya a list on day one. Don't go thinkin' your fancy background will bail ya out. Our system plays fair. And that's the whole thing!"

The youngsters were, for the sake of details, taken aback by the directness of the rules. Six out of the nine had decided right there to retreat from the enrollment. For them, the academy was one of the best chances to improve their lives and resolve their family struggles, but dealing with a pact and the soon-to-come eruption made the choice less favorable than rethinking about their future in other fields.

Lisandra firmed up her mind about getting him. She already knew the rules since her family has a deep connection with the academy. For her, it was a mere formality to go through this process, one that she gladly took since more than it could cause more stains in her family name than they could afford to.

Joah, on the other hand, was in a bind without escape. Indeed, he could go to other places; even more, he could continue to work at the restaurant, but he made a promise to his father, and for him, promises carried more weight than the usual fat pork he was used to.

And Asdras didn't think much about the rules. He already had the curse, and his mind was more than one, since he thought losing his memories was already a curse itself. So sealing a pact with blood was nothing for him.

As the courtyard becomes more clear and spacious. Edsel and Elvira signaled to Cactus, asking him to make the first call.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Hey, you there with the scar; reckon it's your turn," drawled Cactus, his words slow and deliberate as he gestured towards the trio. "Come on over."

What followed was the pact and formality between the soon-to-be student and the academy. Before a single drop of blood sealed their pact, three questions were given.

For the thinkers of the north, a worth person must be able to answer three things before committing their words to the wind; otherwise, it would be more a typhoon of destruction than the whispers of one's souls to embrace the world's might.

The first question probed at one's essence, defining their very self. In a land where names held weight akin to gold, being nameless meant drifting among forgotten souls. Authenticity was paramount in this world, where obscuring one's true self was a betrayal deeper than deceit itself. As an old bard once said, to be nameless was worse than drinking rat's piss.

And so, they answered the first question.

"Asdras."

He froze for a brief moment before giving his first name. For him, name was a world he evaded but gravitated around. It marked questions in his mind, only for each question to be answered with another in the end.

"Lisandra Noctis."

She did it naturally. For her, it was a surname worth dying for. Noctis gave her greatness but also brought the weight of expectation that could crash one's mind if unguarded.

"Joah Numbra."

He was trembling subtly to not alarm anyone, but if one took a closer look at his face, one would see a cocktail of emotion. Confusion: he didn't know Lisandra's surname; in his mind, it could be any other surname; he wished it to be anything else. He didn't have good memories about the Noctis.

He felt angry with himself, be it for not taking notice earlier or for feeling himself attached to her more than he wished for. And lastly, he felt cold as his father's words reasoned inside him. "The Numbras felt the darkness more than anyone else; don't forget it."

As for the second question, it felt like a riddle for each of them. In their youth, the quest for a goal felt like a puzzle to solve. A single word held so much weight, yet it brought forth both hope and fear. What kind of ambition did they truly desire at their age? Was it a fleeting illusion on the distant horizon, or a sturdy foundation upon which to shape their futures?

It was easy to confirm they meant it, but without the test of time and an unhealthy amount of thinking and experience over it, it would be, in the moment, like a blind sword. It worked as a decorative for a sense of safety, only to be tasked with cutting through and lasting a faint brush that would erase with time.

"To find myself."

"For the honor of my family."

"Money."

The final question was nothing but a formality. It was so straightforward that anyone answering it incorrectly would be considered foolish.

The dark cultists were a plague on the whole continent. However, most people would agree that the North was the most affected by it. The cold environment, the caves, and the dangerous places made these fields a safe heaven for them to hide in.

To counteract this threat, every major institution adopted the use of truthfulness shards — small stones imbued with a faint aura of holy spirits from the church. The stone was unremarkable in appearance; its dull hue was broken only by a small white triangle that pulsed faintly. It was meant to be used a single time before turning dust.

Each student took out their stone and held hands with Asdras, Lisandra, and Joah. Placing the stone on their wrists, they asked each other, "Seeker of the darkness?"

"No."

Their responses were immediate. Asdras had only a vague understanding of the group. Joe had centered his teachings around the folly of aligning oneself with such entities.

Joah believed that some individuals surpassed any lawless group in terms of wickedness.

Lisandra was filled with fury; they had taken someone dear to her, so her only desire for the cultists was justice kissed by cold steel in their flesh.

"Lads," Edsel's grin spread wide as he pondered about their soon-to-have experience. "We're onto the final bit, aye? You ready to ink your name on this here contract and play by the rules?"

"Yes," they nodded.

The students took their registration paper and noted their answers on the paper. They then extracted a bundle of slender needles and an engraved, glossy stone bearing the academy's emblem from a petite leather pouch.

They were guided to stretch out their fingers. Using the needles, the students pricked them to draw a tiny bead of blood. Before the droplet could fall, they were asked to press it onto the stone.

A fast and sharp vibration rumbled through their bodies. It felt like an army of invisible spiders had been unleashed on their skin, some skimming lightly over surfaces while others plunged into their veins with pinpoint accuracy.

The sensation was peculiar because it was fleeting; as quickly as the discomfort arrived, it vanished as though it had never occurred.

"Now then," Elvira said, casting her gaze over the trio who'd chosen to stick around. "I reckon each of you has got your gear all sorted for the off, ain't ya?"

"Yes!"

"Alrighty then, let's hit the road!"