Joah squeezed into the crowded staff room, the air thick with the mingling scents of sweat and cheap cologne. The room, designed for ten, was crammed with twenty students, their bodies pressing together in a stifling heat. The hum of whispered conversations and the occasional burst of laughter created a cacophony that made it hard to think.

‘Little Joah, remember?’ Goad’s voice slithered into his mind, bringing with it a sudden, bone-chilling cold. Joah shivered as if an icy hand had gripped his spine, his breath misting in the suddenly frigid air.

Fragments of her smile flashed before him, and he could almost taste the bittersweet memory. His body reacted as if he were there, trapped in time. The scent of iron lingered in the air, sharp and metallic. Her glowing eyes, filled with a mix of fear and determination, faded away, her trembling hands reaching out to him with her final, desperate words echoing in his mind.

‘This was her last wish, remember?’ Goad chuckled darkly. ‘What are you going to do about it, little Joah? Fulfill it? Or fail miserably like you always do?’

He turned the stick and read it: "Save Brian. Biologist. Innkeeper."

He only understood "biologist." It pained him to remember her sweet smile, urging him to become one.

‘You should become a biologist, Joah. You like to cook, and some people specialize in studying creatures and making dishes from them,’ Goad mimicked her voice with a sneer. ‘Ah! Poor girl. If she knew what her sweet Joah did after she died, she'd be rolling in her grave.’

‘Shut up, worm!’

His hands tightened around the wooden stick, the rough wood digging into his palms. He felt its cold touch, a stark contrast to the imaginary warm liquid he envisioned trailing down his skin, sending a shiver up his spine. His chest tightened with a suffocating anxiety, and a cold sweat broke out on his brow.

“Brian? Who is Brian?” Joah murmured.

He tried to remember every person he had seen, but it was like sifting through fog. His restaurant job had introduced him to countless faces and names, each blending into a blur of indistinct memories.

None were named "Brian." The realization hit him with a hollow thud — he was alone, surrounded by people yet unable to connect. He tried to recall his friends, but the effort felt like reaching for shadows.

‘Friends? Really? You?’ Goad scoffed bitterly. ‘You don’t have friends; Numbras can’t even spell 'friend'. Your only pals are me and that shadow of yours — real friends are just fairy tales for someone like you.’

‘I have two!’

‘Two friends? Who exactly are you talking about? That blonde girl? You call her a friend?' Goad laughed maniacally. 'And the other one? That girl is long gone. Face it.’

Joah scratched his head hard. He didn’t know how to protect his mind from Goad, and he didn’t know how long he could cope with it. He recalled what he saw at the end of his awakening: his path, “Numbra Survival.”.

He thought if it meant surviving against Goad, then he had a high chance of failing. He feared what he would become. He remembered using his power for the first time.

The feeling of being engulfed in darkness was peaceful, like being in the arms of a loved one. He realized his speed, his maneuvers, and how he could slip past hard-to-reach places.

The sensation of being able to escape anyone and be alone; the ability to block out everything and feel or hear nothing. He longed for it.

At the same time, he realized that Goad became more of a phantom than a voice in his head when he was in the darkness. He could see it. Goad exuded an eerie coldness, a chilling presence that seemed to suck the warmth from the air.

Its pale, ghostly body was undulated with a sinister grace, and the texture was like thin, translucent silk. There was a soft, unsettling rustling sound that accompanied each movement, like old fabric whispering secrets in the wind.

Joah felt it was like a melody that enveloped him in a surreal atmosphere, where the deep, resonant tones of the instruments intertwined with the haunting, slow rhythm of something deep — like the tool they used in the kitchen to smash vegetables. It evoked in him a mix of comfort and numbness, as if each note both soothed and chilled his soul.

The bustling activity in the room jolted him back to reality. Students shifted in their seats, talked in hushed tones, and cast curious glances at the staff members who had just entered. Joah's eyes flickered toward them, trying to grasp any information that might help him find Brian.

‘Look at yourself,’ Goad jeered relentlessly. ‘Clinging to some half-baked hope like it's your lifeline. Do you think it'll save you? Bring Brian back with all the answers tied up in a neat little bow?’

Goad laughed. ‘Baked, little chief. Get it? I've got more humor in my pinky than you've got in your whole sad existence, kid..’

Joah ignored the voice, focusing instead on the present. He needed to stay grounded and learn more about this place and its people. He watched as the staff began to organize the students into groups, their authoritative voices cutting through the room's buzz.

One by one, students were given instructions and a piece of paper to fill out. Joah didn't track the time, but he sighed in relief as the room became more spacious and only a few students remained. He was about to stand up when he saw familiar faces entering.

They were smiling and chatting, and Joah could tell some of them were a bit drunk. His mouth watered as he imagined the taste of beer. In that moment, alcohol and cigarettes seemed like the best solution to his nerves.

He nudged his seat when he saw them approaching. He wanted to interact, but he was held back by confusion and Goad's fogging of his mind.

‘Oh! Here they come, kid! Tell her, tell her, kid! Tell her what you did,’ Goad laughed. ‘It will be so much fun to watch her face.’

Joah sighed heavily and closed his eyes for a moment.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Are you okay?” Lisandra asked.

“Hey,” Joah paused, “I’m alright. You?”

"Eh, more or less," Lisandra shrugged with a grin. "Not exactly thrilled, but I'm getting by. Anyway, meet everyone."

Lisandra pointed at Finn and said, “This is Finn.”

"Us!" Finn laughed. "That's the spirit, Lisandra. We are a group. It's a pleasure to meet you, Joah. If you're here, I suppose you want to be part of a group, right?"

“Yes,” Joah said.

“And I guess you haven’t joined any yet?” Finn asked with a grin.

“No,” Joah nodded.

"Well then," Finn continued without missing a beat, pointing at Lisandra and Asdras, "why not throw in your lot with us? We've got room for one more trickster like yourself."

'Is this really a good idea?' Joah pondered as he scrutinized their faces.

‘Oh! Look at them acting all cute with you,’ Goad sneered with dark irony. ‘It makes my skin crawl from the saccharine sweetness.’

“Sure, I would love to,” Joah said, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his doubt.

"Brilliant!" Finn exclaimed as he gave Joah's shoulder a friendly thump. "Welcome aboard! Now that makes it official! Lisandra — sorry for butting in — carry on."

Lisandra shook her head and smiled. She was happy to see Joah and even happier for him to join their group. She felt she knew him well enough to trust him.

“Come on, no need for all that,” Merida interrupted with a grin. “We’re a group now, and I know you, lad. Remember that time you made that incredible stew at Pork’s Pub? Best meal I had all month.”

“You know him?” Lisandra's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“You know me?” Joah asked, pointing at himself in disbelief.

"Yes, aren't you the one who works in the kitchen of that pub owned by that portly fellow?" Merida asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you talking about Pork’s Pub?” Joah asked.

"Can't recall the name. I used to drop by when the week was good, and my purse had some weight," Merida shrugged lightly. "Saw you there once, slicing up a pork steak. Remember it well 'cause I ordered it myself. And you know how those pubs in Baurous are — never trust the waiters. So I made sure to sneak a peek at my meal being cooked."

“That was…” Joah hesitated, searching for the right words. “That was clever. Well, I guess you do know me. Yeah, I worked there once upon a time. Not anymore, though. Who are you?”

"I'm Merida," she said warmly, extending her hand for a shake. "I respect your skills. You can cook, so I'll be counting on you."

"Oh!" Stig clapped his hands together. "A chef, eh? Can you whip up a pie?"

“Pie? What kind of pie?” Joah’s curiosity got the better of his usual reticence.

“Pie with milk and corn filled with apples,” Stig said, tasting his lips.

"Apple Pie? I don't. I'm more into making savory dishes than sweets," Joah said, shaking his head.

"Ah well, that's too bad," Stig laughed. "Oh, and I'm Stig by the way. Good to meet ya."

“Nice to meet you, Stig,” Joah said with a nod. “And hey there, Asdras.”

Asdras looked at him and smiled, extending his hand for a shake. "Hi, Joah. It's good to know that we survived the awakening. I mean, the three of us."

"Yes, it's rather pleasant to think about," Lisandra added contemplatively. "By the way, our group's name is—"

A staff member who towered over Lisandra and had an angry expression interrupted her. His short hair and lack of eyebrows made his expressions more pronounced.

"Don't waste my time, kids," the staff member sneered. "Are you here to register or not?"

"Yes indeed! No more delays." Finn declared, straightening up with exaggerated seriousness but still grinning widely,

"Good," the staff member grumbled, handing out papers. "Fill these out and bring them back promptly. We have no time for dawdling."

Finn took the paper, his heart beating faster. It was real — he had formed a group, and he couldn't help but imagine his brother's face. He had won the bet.

He glanced at his group, their faces filled with curiosity and a hint of nervousness. He too felt pressured, as he was the one with the idea, and he bore the weight of their expectations.

‘Approach her, kid. Tell her, tell her!’ Goad repeated it like chants in Joah's mind.

“So,” Joah approached Lisandra and asked in a low voice, “what’s the group called?”

“Tricksters of the Twilight Sky,” Lisandra announced proudly. “It means we seek liberation through cleverness and trickery.”

‘Oh! Interesting,’ Goad chuckled hard. ‘I really do enjoy this. Forget what I said, kid. Don't tell her just yet. I want to see how your merry little band fares. Who's going to survive? Who will you betray next? Ah, the suspense is killing me!’

‘Shut up!’ Joah took a deep breath.

“Sorry about that,” Joah waved slightly at Lisandra to indicate he was fine. “I like the name. Was it your idea?”

"Oh my! How did you figure that out?" Lisandra asked incredulously.

"Just a feeling," Joah shrugged. "I always thought you were smart."

"Oh!" Merida giggled. "I sense romance in the air."

Joah blushed and looked away awkwardly. With a slight stutter but growing confidence, Lisandra clarified firmly, "No, we're just friends!"

‘Oh, Joah, my dear! This is going to be a real hoot! I'm just itching to see more of your little antics. Watching you prance around all chipper — it’s almost cute,’ Goad sneered, pausing for effect. ‘But oh, the real treat? Seeing that smile crumble into despair as you tumble right into my waiting arms.’

"And there it is — Tricksters of the Twilight Sky," Finn announced confidently. "We're official now; time to show 'em what we've got!"

“Good!” Stig said. “What now?”

“Our spot,” Merida said. “I want to taste that wine again!”

“Perfect,” Finn nodded approvingly. “And let’s give Joah the grand tour while we're at it.”

They were about to move on when Joah suddenly asked, "Do any of you know someone named Brian?"

“Brian?” Finn asked. “No, why?”

“Nothing,” Joah said, shaking his head. “Is it just that a need to find someone named Brian.”

"You know," Asdras said with an amused grin, "I knew this Brian — doubt it's the same guy though. That guy ditched school for the army life."

“Military?” Joah asked, scratching his head.

"Yeah," Asdras mused aloud while gazing into the ceiling, "makes you wonder what he's doing now."

Joah felt a mix of hope and frustration bubbling inside him. Finding this, Brian, seemed more complicated than he had anticipated. "Thanks, Asdras," he said with restrained optimism. "Maybe it's something."