The next day, Ezra struggled to wake up. Memories of his adventure the day before swirled in his mind, delaying his sleep. His mother had to almost drag him out of bed, pushing him to wash up, get dressed, and quickly eat a bowl of cereal before he dashed out with some pocketed cookies for the road. As he passed through the school gates, he was, of course, late.

Mr. Vittel, his teacher, gave him a stern look as he slipped into the back of the classroom near the window, yet again.

– Ezra! When I told you to sit at the front near my desk, it was meant to be permanent, he said.

Ezra blushed and moved to the front row, avoiding the gazes of his classmates. Naturally, Barton and his crew were staring at him. As Ezra took out his school supplies, he stole a glance behind him: Thea was watching him with that ambiguous smile that seemed both mocking and friendly. Ezra's cheeks burned even more, and he quickly turned back around as if nothing had happened.

The morning went by uneventfully. Ezra kept quiet, finishing his work ahead of everyone else. His thoughts were occupied with how he would apologize to the neighbors who had worried about him the day before.

The midday bell jolted him back to reality. As he was stuffing his notebooks and pencils into his backpack, Brady and Hugo, his neighbors, rushed up to him.

– Hey, Ezra, coming to the cafeteria with us? asked Hugo, a skinny, brown-haired boy with a spark in his eye.

Hugo, always lively and cheerful, had an endless energy that made him popular among his classmates. His tousled brown hair and mischievous smile gave him a playful look. He was known for his love of pranks and his ability to turn the most mundane situations into exciting adventures.

Brady, in contrast to Hugo, was taller and sturdier, with short blonde hair and a confident stride. He was the thinker of the group, his serious gaze and thoughtful words often tempering the enthusiasm of his friends.

– Well, are you coming? Brady pressed with a sly smile. We're starving here!

Ezra, with a smile of his own, joined them for lunch in the cafeteria. As they queued up, he felt a warm comfort in not eating alone that day. Although Brady and Hugo were his childhood friends, their freedom contrasted with his own. They had parents who let them roam around during lunch, play in parks after school, or bike around the neighborhood with other kids. Ezra's mother, Elena, marked by life's trials, kept a protective watch over her son, often keeping him from these teenage adventures. This had somewhat isolated him from the group, but the genuine affection and understanding from his friends made these shared moments precious.

– Look who's here, our little favorite! Ezra looked up and saw the cheerful face of Mary, the cook serving them.

– Hi there! Ezra replied with a big smile.

When Mary was behind the counter, Ezra knew he would get a double portion of what he liked in exchange for the items he didn't. She knew almost every child's preferences in the busy cafeteria, and they all adored her. She was a large woman with an immense smile and small eyes as black as her hair, which was always tucked into a bun and secured with a hairnet.

Hugo and Brady jostled Ezra to get in front of the cook.

– Don't you like us too? they asked playfully.

– Of course, I love you, my little rascals! she replied with a laugh that shook her entire frame. So, how can I prove it to you today?

– With fries instead of zucchinis, Hugo grimaced. Those green things are definitely bad for health!

Mary and Ezra burst into laughter, and she generously heaped their plates with fries.

– Go on, boys, there are more mouths to feed! she ushered them away.

Ezra, along with Hugo and Brady, made their way to an open table amidst the cacophony of the cafeteria. Opposite them, a group of girls, including Thea, giggled and whispered among themselves. Thea pretended not to notice Ezra while sharing secrets with her friends.

– Look at that, a gaggle of geese! Hugo joked. We're in a henhouse!

Ezra was torn between amusement and discomfort. Despite his wariness of Thea and her seduction “game”, he couldn’t deny his intrigue.

– What a flirt, Brady remarked, accustomed to dealing with older girls.

Suddenly, a voice from behind interrupted their banter.

– Can I sit with you guys?

Ezra looked up; it was Sullivan, the boy he had defended. Hugo and Brady shuffled their trays to make space, but Ezra continued to eat without moving an inch.

– I don't really want to sit next to a coward, Ezra said bluntly.

His friends looked at him in surprise. Sullivan glanced away, embarrassed.

– I... I'm sorry again, Sullivan murmured. I wanted to back you up, but I got cut off.

Ezra sighed and reluctantly made room for him. The day was not shaping up well, especially since he had to stay after school for detention with Barton, due to their fight a few days earlier...

When the final bell rang, he was relieved.

The classes dragged on tediously, and as the other students rushed out at the end, Ezra stayed seated. Sullivan left without another word, and Hugo and Brady waved goodbye as they disappeared into the crowd.

Ezra turned around; two rows behind him, Barton sat with a mocking smile. Ezra felt a surge of tension. Fortunately, they weren't alone; the teacher stood in front of them by the blackboard.

– Alright, let's try to dissuade you from fighting like brutes with something constructive, the teacher began. You have two hours to ponder and write on this topic: 

“Why do we fight? Is it beneficial?”

The grade would count as much as any other and appear on your report card for the year. Ezra grimaced; he hated essay writing, preferring mathematics, physics, anything that made sense, but composition was not his strength. Truly, detention with Barton and an essay, it couldn't get any worse.

– I’ll stay with you, the teacher clarified, I have work and plenty of time.

Ezra copied the topic onto his sheet and tried to forget who was behind him. It wasn’t easy: he felt the weight of a gaze like a finger pressing into his back. He didn’t want to admit it, but the teacher's instruction took on a new meaning for Ezra.

He focused more on the sentence. Why do we fight? Images jumbled in his mind confusingly. In moments, it was as if everything around him disappeared. He closed his eyes and revisited scenes in another world. For the first time, he had seen people fighting, not over a childish quarrel, but to survive against the embodiment of death itself. Suddenly, he thought of Hato and Yael, about waking up after the battle; he had been so disturbed that he hadn’t even asked Charles if he had managed to save them too. Their battle had given him chills, their camaraderie, their power, everything made Ezra want to be part of that world too.

He felt as if his mental “journey” had lasted no more than three minutes, yet the teacher's voice made him jump:

– You have thirty minutes left to finish.

Panicked, Ezra turned and glanced at Barton's sheet: his enemy had written more than a page, while his own was as blank as it had been two hours ago!

Ezra fidgeted with his paper and pen, quickly, he needed to find something to scribble down. Pressed for time, overrun by the images still present in his mind, Ezra answered the two questions with his heart, without even thinking. The words lined up, uncontrollable.

– Alright, the teacher concluded, you can go home now. Leave your papers on the table, I’ll collect them when I leave.

Ezra stood up without delay and without a glance at his teacher. He was already in the courtyard when he heard Barton call out from behind.

– So, Ezra, you're scared of me, is that it? You run through the streets to escape us, you thought I would forget?

Ezra took a deep breath and continued walking towards the exit. Don’t get angry. Don’t respond.

– You shouldn’t have interfered with my business with Sullivan because now you’ll take everything in his place. That's fine by me, Sullivan submits, but I prefer it when you show a bit more resistance, especially after talking about your father.

Ezra froze in place. This time, it was too much. He turned around. Barton smiled, pleased with himself.

– You see, it’s easy, Barton continued. I bet your father was weak too, and panicked in his plane. That’s why he crashed... No wonder his son is a coward and dares not fight.

Ezra couldn’t take it anymore. He threw his belongings on the ground and was about to pounce on Barton when a voice stopped him.

– Ezra! Barton! What are you still doing here?

They looked up, the teacher was watching them from a classroom window.

Barton shrugged.

– Weak, Barton repeated before walking away.

Ezra watched him disappear into a waiting car. Only then did the pressure within him lessen slightly. He turned towards the school building, picked up his belongings, and passed through the school gates.

– You didn't like what your comrade told you, did you?

Ezra's heart skipped a beat upon hearing that voice. He had heard it only once before, yet it was unmistakably etched in his memory. He spun around swiftly.

Before him stood the woman from that midnight visit, her umbrella clasped tightly, a small black coat draped over her shoulders. Even though they weren't alone on the sidewalk, Ezra felt isolated in her presence. Her piercing green eyes held him in a gaze that, for reasons unknown to him, instilled a sense of trust. However, the trust quickly wavered as he recalled the mysterious conversation she had with his mother and everything that followed this conversation.

Mrs. Seleth observed him with an intensity that seemed to see through him. She noted the striking resemblance to James Artoria, except for his pale, almost white, blue eyes. She sensed a familiar aura in Ezra, reminiscent of his father and Maya, which stirred something deep within her. Yet, she could feel the growing tension in the boy.

Without allowing him a moment to process, she spoke, 

– You didn't appreciate what that boy said about your father, and you're right. Your father was not weak.

The anger that had been simmering in Ezra dissipated instantly. 

– Did you know him ?

- Yes, she answered softly, 

– I knew him well. We worked together. He was a courageous and extraordinary man. Just like you will be, no doubt.

Ezra realized he was engaging with a stranger who spoke of these things. It was time to ask his burning questions.

– Are you from the other world? he asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

Mrs. Seleth paused, considering her response. She understood now that Elena had kept their world a secret from Ezra. She had to tread carefully.

– No, I'm human, just like you. And like your father was.

– No, Ezra interjected, I went there, where my father was.

Anger rose within him, all these lies, these secrets ended up weighing him down.

– Inglorium, she corrected gently. That’s the name of the place, and your father held it dear. We remain earthlings, we just have the gift of getting there.

– A gift ?! Ezra accused. That place is horrible, and I overheard what my mother said: it's because of you that he died!

Mrs. Seleth remained calm, understanding the complexity of the situation. Grieving a father you never knew, and a mother's pain - it was a lot for a young boy to bear.

– You must have faced terrifying moments. Entering Inglorium unprepared is dangerous. There is much you need to learn about. But you've probably noticed that you possess certain... abilities. I'm sure of it. Haven't you?

Ezra shook his head. He had felt weak and vulnerable in Inglorium, not powerful.

Suddenly, Mrs. Seleth reached out and touched his arm. A familiar sensation, like a cold electric current, tingled beneath his skin, reminiscent of a dream he had once had.

Fear, an unfamiliar emotion to Ezra, crept in. If this woman spoke the truth, then could someone finally teach him ? A part of him yearned for this even after Charles’s warning.