Maggie's home was towards the other end of Lorhaven, but the promise of food encouraged them to quicken their pace.

Their friend's home was much like Asher's but newer, and meant for larger families.

It was three stories in height, and each floor contained five homes. It wasn't as old as Asher's apartment building and loomed proudly in its better kempt state. Lorhaven was a town littered with aged structures nearly falling apart, but this building was still managing to thrive. It possessed a rustic aesthetic, constructed with stones of various colors, making it one of the more stylish housing units, and the pathway leading up was lined with a sparse amount of foliage.

One could say the more prosperous of the poor lived here.

The boys walked up to one of the ground level doors excitedly, Asher knocking as he stepped onto a matt that stated "welcome" beneath his feet.

A woman with brunette, silky hair nearly flung the door open in excitement, cerulean eyes gleaming as she recognized her guests. An older version of Maggie smiled widely at them, a small apron tied around her waist.

"Asher! Jackson! I'm so please you both could make it!"

"Hello, Mrs. Welkin," Asher smiled.

Jackson gave her a small wave, "Thanks for the invite."

She nodded cheerfully, her dark curls bouncing off her shoulders, "Please, come in! Dinner will be ready soon. Maggie and her father are out back still, feel free the join them until then!"

The two eagerly hurried inside, removing their shoes in the foyer. Jackson quickly stepped out of his while Asher used the wall to steady himself with one hand. The scent of a delicious meal caught their noses, coercing them further into the house.

"Go on outback now," she encouraged, gesturing towards the back of the house. "Bring them back inside in about fifteen minutes, would you?" She asked, already shuffling quickly back towards the kitchen to tend to the meal.

"Yes, ma'am," they replied in unison.

Their home, while small, was beautiful. The walls were a faded yellow decorated with various pieces of art and photographs. Maggie's younger brother was the proud creator of the majority of the pieces, Mrs. Welkin always pleased to display his hard work.

The back of the whole apartment faced the ocean, a view those of Lorhaven held dear. Only a small green yard separated the building from the short slope that ended in the sandy beach. Maggie's family was of one the fortunate ones, living on the ground level. They had immediate access to the yard, while those above had large balconies.

The boys walked a short way into the field and sat down at a circular wooden table, joining an older man who watched Maggie train in the distance. Being the quiet type, he greeted Asher and Jackson with a nod. They watched Maggie for a moment, hair matted to her forehead as she sparred against an impressive looking man in what appeared to be a tracksuit.

Much like his daughter, Mr. Welkin was short in stature. He possessed greying hair and overgrown eyebrows that seemed to have a mind of their own. His calloused hand rested on the table with an empty cup, fingertips smudging the clear glass.

"Can I ask you something, sir?" Asher said after a moment, leaning forward in his chair.

Jackson quirked a brow at his friend's serious tone yet remained silent.

"Why does she push herself so hard, knowing what the result will most likely be? Why does she try, knowing her family history?"

The man cleared his throat, continuing to watch his daughter from across the field. "The Welkin family line has been consistent. We have all been the healers, Friarra, with maybe a few added capabilities thrown in for spice," he chuckled.

"Over time, it became a generally accepted fact that the Welkin line was a weaker bunch that didn't aspire too much," he shrugged. "Remaining here, acting as healers, and assisting those we can, has always been fulfilling enough."

"Then, why?" Asher repeated.

Mr. Welkin sighed, adjusting himself in his seat, "Maggie maintains a stubborn mindset. Words roll off her like rain on a duck's back. Since she was a young child, she has strived for greatness. She has always been a perfectionist and doesn't want to be seen as weak," he smirked, causing the wrinkles that adorned his face to become more prominent.

"Accepting your role in society is logical, not weak!" Asher insisted. "She's trying to push herself beyond her limits! It won't end well!" he pushed, dropping to voice to a more moderate volume in fear of it carrying across the yard.

Asher felt shameful for speaking about such things behind her back. However, as he watched Maggie train, he felt the need to make someone else understand before it was too late. Someone who knew what it was like to be from Lorhaven, and had suffered from the Capitol's agenda.

Jackson observed the exchange between the two with a blank face, a sincere look of concern in his eyes.

Mr. Welkin hummed once more, "I suppose you're right, but everyone sees this topic in their own way. The concept of what is weak and what is strong varies for each individual."

He stared across the field, watching as his daughter evaded each strike from her trainer at the perfect moment. His eyes were soft, a deep-seated sadness brimming to the edge as he spoke, but meticulously prevented from spilling over. "Her mother and I are worried, of course, but what kind of father would I be to discourage her from pursuing her life goal?"

"Her grandfather's influence is too strong," Asher said in disappointment.

The man nodded, "He was the one Welkin who made it through the Trial and was even about to be promoted to Captain. However, jealousy and prejudice led to his murder the night before his advancement. No one wanted to see a Friarra from Lorhaven reach such heights."

"Wow," Jackson chimed in, "I had no idea she was related to him. We even discussed him in General School during one of the history courses, but she never said anything."

"Yes, he's her motivation, but Maggie has never been one to flaunt."

"I hate to be the devil's advocate, but-"

The man laughed heartily and patted Asher on his shoulder, startling both him and Jackson with his sudden outburst. "My boy, if you didn't feel the need to play the devil's advocate, you wouldn't be Asher Crowe! You always consider every angle of a situation."

Asher smirked, "I hope you consider that to be a good thing."

"Of course, I do. Otherwise, I wouldn't approve of your feelings for my daughter."

Jackson snorted, putting a hand over his mouth.

Asher choked on his spit. "E-excuse me?!" he nearly shrieked, voice cracking like a pre-teen.

"Oh, come now," Mr. Welkin smirked, "I've known for a long time. Since the day you came over to study when you two were in General School, I knew!"

"Not gonna lie, I've known too," Jackson teased.

Asher could feel the heat searing through his face, and if he hadn't known better, he'd thought his face was lit in flames. He felt an inescapable awkwardness as he saw Jackson trying to conceal his amusement while the older man gazed at him in a calculating way. As any father should when speaking with the boy who held feelings for his only daughter. The man who Asher had once viewed as a father suddenly appeared much more intimidating.

"Do you intend to tell her before she leaves?" He asked.

Asher stared out onto the field, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"Even if you decide against telling her, please do your best to be there for her and protect her until the time comes."

"Time?" Asher asked, glancing at him.

"Until the day she leaves for the Trial. After that, she won't need any of us. She'll either be gone to the Capitol or returning here to a grave."

Jackson's amusement was immediately extinguished, and Asher was overcome with a sickly sensation.

"But if she makes it to the Capitol, then she gets to bring her family!"

"Only after she makes it through the initial year of training at the Garrick," Jackson mumbled.

Asher stared at Maggie, heartbroken. She was so gentle, too soft for fighting, violence, anything that comes along with the Garrick. Maggie was a healer, not a killer. Her soul was made of pure kindness and love. It was the kind that heals people not only physically, but mentally. Her compassion and pureness of heart had transformed his state of emotional chaos into feelings he could cope with. She helped him reach acceptance and stability. It would be an absolute crime to take a person with such a natural gift away from a world in such a need for healing, and in so many ways.

He watched her smile amid her training, striving to perfect her technique.

Then, his stomach sank.

"Asher," she hesitated, "if you think you won't survive the exam, does that mean you think I'll die?"

Asher clenched his fists tightly upon his knees.

"If you thought I was making a mistake, you'd tell me, right?"

He felt his nails digging into his palms painfully.

"Of course."

He remembered the smile that crossed her face at his words.

He shot up out of his chair, fists clenched at his sides. Without a word, he walked away, going back into the house. He couldn't stand to be there any longer, within Maggie's house, the liar that he was, watching her train for her death.

"Asher!" he heard Jackson call, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. He had no right to be there.

He was running now, rushing through the house, putting as much distance between Maggie and himself as possible. The wind whistled in his ears as he shot down the path that led to her home. Asher only stopped when a sob wracked his body, causing him to stumble and forcing him to place his hands on his knees for stability. He stared at the ground, working to control his breathing as he began to hyperventilate.

"Dude, what the hell?" Jackson huffed, catching up to him and skidding to a halt at Asher's side.

Asher shook his head, unable to speak as his chest heaved, eyes stinging as he fought for air.

Jackson placed a hand on his shoulder, which Asher roughly shook off before moving a few feet away.

"What the hell as got you so messed up all of a sudden?"

Asher remained silent; his voice long gone.

"Are you gonna tell her?" Jackson asked carefully, attempting to get to the bottom of Asher's unusual behavior.

Asher scoffed.

Tell her what?

That even though I don't think she will survive the Trial, I've continued to support her choice?

That I'm preparing for the Trial with the help of a Garrick Captain while letting you all think I'm still staying behind?

That I'm lying to all of you?

Or are you, Jackson, referring to the part where I love her more than life and have always wanted to tell her, but can't because no matter what I do, life will pull us apart in the long run?

His chest tightened painfully, the weight of all his secrets and lies threatening to suffocate him.

"No," he said hoarsely, shaking his head. "I'm not saying a word."