“Great. I’ll treat you both to dinner for your volunteer work,” Giles said to the two students.

However, he drove on for many more minutes and Ya Nu noticed they passed by cafes and restaurants, moving further away from the heart of Celaeno, until stopping at a small convenience store on a beaten street. Giles dropped them off at the entrance and handed Ya Nu some coins. “Buy anything you want,” he said as if they had an array of choices. “I need to run an errand. I’ll be back.”

Ya Nu’s disbelief was replaced with disappointment when their Assistant-Instructor sped off into the distance. She turned her glare to Za. Ignoring her, he calmly entered the store and headed for the back. He hadn’t spoken a single word. This was not his fault, Ya Nu told herself. She released her building irritation and sighed, levelling her expectations. For now, she’ll go with the flow. She entered the store behind him.

The place was run down, with peeling paint and dirty floors. Half of the lights were dead or flickering off. The inventory was not well stocked, with almost empty shelves in some aisles. A stark contrast to their spotless training institute and the better part of Celaeno, but Ya Nu felt right at home. The store clerk, a gaunt middle-aged woman, stared at them and she realized both had not changed out of their training uniforms. Perhaps students from Hollyhock were rare in these parts of the city? But no matter how downtrodden this place looked this area was still a part of Celaeno.

A customer entered the small store after them so they quickly purchased a drink and a candy bar each, and sat outside with their snacks to wait, leaning their backs against the building. With no one else to talk to, Ya Nu decided it was time to attempt a conversation with the Weakling Alstroemeria, although she didn’t expect an answer. “Where are you from?” she asked.

He responded, the first time she’d heard that day. “Miram. With Lucas,” he said.

“I’m from Algol,” she said and waited for him to react, but he didn’t, another surprise. He didn’t show much emotion anyway, but she thought this time he didn’t have a clue. “Algol is east, in the poorest area of Astradom. The Slums.”

“And? Why does that matter?” he asked.

She was speechless for a moment. “It’s populated with refugees. The homeless. The poor. The wastes of society. That’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Countryside trash. They call Lucas that,” Za said. “Isn’t that the same?”

Ya Nu couldn’t believe it. He didn’t know? “No, it’s not. Lobelia is the son of the Governor of Miram. I heard his mother came from an aristocratic bloodline. A noble lady. His background is top class.” With his burst of popularity, Ya Nu had heard enough about Lobelia in the last few days to easily recite his biography.

Sudden crashing and yelling erupted behind them from within the store. Both shot to their feet. While Za stood still, Ya Nu ran inside. She saw the store clerk on the ground bleeding from her head while the customer stood over her with a broken glass bottle in his hand. Two shelves had been turned over and their contents littered the floor. The aggressor was startled when Ya Nu entered. He froze at first, then ran at her. She braced herself to subdue him, but he rammed passed her shoulder out the door. Ya Nu turned to pursue, but the clerk stirred and murmured, and she couldn’t leave the bleeding woman alone. She popped her head out of the door and yelled to Za pointing to the fleeing man, “Stop him!”

The man was already halfway down the street.

Za steadied his gaze on her. He said calmly, “I shouldn’t.”

Weakling Alstroemeria. What did she expect? But she wasn’t going to accept his weakness this time. “Go! Run! Stop him!” she commanded.

“Then. I’ll stop him. If that’s what you want,” Za confirmed. And suddenly, he was gone, chasing the man down the street. Ya Nu was surprised by his speed, but there was no time to marvel at it. She returned inside to check on the store clerk. The woman’s heartbeat was weak. She grabbed a towel off a shelf and pressed it to the woman’s head to staunch the bleeding, then pulled out her phone to call for help. A terrifying, uncanny wail in the distance distracted her. Sounding almost inhumane. She shivered.

Ya Nu left the store again. Already, Za was back dragging a crying, whimpering man behind him. The wails had come from this man. Za’s expression remained undisturbed as he flung the man at Ya Nu’s feet in front of the entrance to the store.

What’s wrong? Her classmate’s eyes were cold, and she felt a chill run through her body again.

“I stopped him,” Za said.

Ya Nu didn’t want to care about why this man had turned into a sobbing mess, but she had to know. She crouched down and examined him. Both his legs were broken.

Za said, “Now he can’t run.”

The truck was parked outside a dingy alley. Giles pulled out a letter from under his shirt and crushed it into a ball, enveloping it in his fist. He whistled a complex tune and when he finished, he opened his palm to a shiny gold ring instead of the paper. Leaving the vehicle, he made his way down the alley, passed several dark stores, until he reached the dead end where a smaller shop was hidden in the corner. Inside was as dark as outside but Giles knew his way around. The half-sized door opened to a small space that faced a barred window above a counter and nothing else. He knocked on the dirty class and several seconds later, the curtain was pulled aside and an old man peered out. He had white hair, gray eyes, and a badly scarred right cheek that was made more frightening by his deep wrinkles.

“Evening, Steward,” Giles drawled. He placed the gold ring at the window counter. “How much can I get for this?”

Steward’s finger claws snatched the ring up. He examined the ring closely. “Pure gold. Not bad this time, Heliconia.” He fingered the smooth roundness of the piece. “Sixty silver coins.”

Giles pulled off his glasses and wiped the frames before placing them back on his face, deliberately taking his time. “That doesn’t make any sense, Steward. Gold for silver coins? I need a better barter.”

Steward snickered. “Sixty-five silver coins. Take it or leave it.”

Giles placed his hand on the window. “One hundred silver coins. Final.”

The curtains closed and the ring was dropped back on the counter, spinning in its place. Seconds passed, then the curtains opened again and Steward pressed his face close. “FINE.” He placed a bag of silver coins on the counter and took the ring away. He pulled out a board and scribbled down the exchange. “In whose name?”

“Charles,” Giles said.

Trade done and coins pocketed, Giles’ phone rang just as he exited the shop. On the other end, Julie screamed at him. “You idiot! Why did you leave the kids alone?”

When Giles drove up to the Order & Safety Civilian Station, the Lotus cousins and Amaryllis girl were sitting outside the truck. Julie exited the front doors followed by the Alstroemeria boy. As he descended from his vehicle, she came straight to him and punched him in the gut. “I healed both parties and we got away with a warning. Happy?”

Once he had his breath back, Giles said, “I helped you today. We’re even?”

“It’s your duty as an Assistant-Instructor,” she said. Julie ushered all the students into her now empty truck and drove off. Giles wondered why she even called him here if she already had everything settled.

In the back of the truck, seated across from Za Alstroemeria, Ya Nu waved for his attention. He’d return to being quiet. He showed no emotion, and yet this Alstroemeria was much different from the one earlier. She recalled the scene. The mess, the unconscious clerk, the wailing man, and Alstroemeria. Standing silently, his eyes as cold as ice. This outcome was unexpected.

“Why did you do that?” she asked. Her voice carried over to him easily despite the clatter of the moving truck. He met her eyes but did not speak.

He didn’t have an answer, she guessed. He’d surprised her many times today, and she was interested in learning more about him. Taking a deep breath, hoping she was not committing a mistake, she said, “Za Alstroemeria. I want to join your quint.”

 * * *

The time limit she had imposed on this battle expired. Panting heavily, Lucas released his Attribute and his color returned to its natural state. The scarlet lance in his hand liquefied into a pool of blood at his feet. He stared opposite him at his adversary, Erina Marigold, who had also undone her EN-hancer, releasing the white glow around her form.

She’d given him a wager. Break through her defense within the hour. He’d been interested to see how strong her skills were and accepted. His impressions of her on the battlefield had not been strong, but as he initially tested her shield and then eventually emboldened his attacks, his thoughts changed.

Marigold had rented a private training room for them in the city, away from prying eyes; an unofficial duel that was not to be recorded. Today, their battle would end in a draw.

Lucas approached Erina with a smile and wiped his bloodstained right hand on his shirt. Then he extended it for a handshake. “Welcome to my quint, Marigold.”

Back at Hollyhock ISC-M Training Institute, Counselor Davis Mazus woke up at his desk amid a stack of paperwork. The sky beyond the wide window at his back was already dark and the lamps in the room were lit. Strange, he didn’t remember turning them on after telling his departing staff to switch it off. Then he sighted the man in a black suit standing silently across from him and understood this man had done the deed. The visitor had invited himself in, but decided to not wake the Counselor, preferring to wait. Strange.

The Counselor wiped the drool from his mouth and stood grandly as if he hadn’t been caught napping just moments ago. The night was late and the mood subdued, but he bellowed warmly, “Welcome, dear friend. How may I be of assistance to you?”

The man approached him and offered a letter, much like the other times. He said, “A condition for the student.” Counselor Davis took the letter and opened it. A dark splatter of ink marked the center of the page, nothing more. When Counselor Davis spoke, the splatter moved. Letters started walking across the page and situated themselves in order, until the previous splatter was nonexistent. Only words remained, detailing a requirement.

The Counselor wasn’t excited about the demand in the letter. Why bother to attend a renowned institute only to set these constraints?

“Is there a problem,” the man in black suit asked.

Refuse the owner of this letter? Impossible. “Alright,” Counselor Davis murmured. “It will happen.” He passed the document into the shredder as he’d down the other times. The ink monsters were destroyed in the process.