Jessie: "I really, really, don't want to believe that you chose to follow those screams!"

Connie: "And what's so hard to believe about that, huh?! Am I not allowed to make a mistake here and there—no, it wasn't even a mistake! We saved two kids and terminated a Monster! How is that a mistake?!"

Jessie: "Because you ran right into an obvious danger, without fully understanding the danger you were going to face!"

Connie: "Life isn't just a bunch of calculations, Jess! I can't pull strategies out of my ass like you do—you're the brains, I'm the one who acts first!"

Jessie: "If you choose to act first in the wrong battle, you won't even get a second action!"

Connie: "But we made it back just fine!"

Jessie: "That is hindsight, and nothing more! One misstep could have been the death of both of you!"

The commotion was too much, and after a few last-second wipes, the three of the cleaning crew slowly shuffled our way over to the argument.

Jessie: "...Mylings, Sirens, Aswangs, and so much more...do you have any idea what those three have in common?"

Connie: "The ability to fake distress—yes, I know that, but—"

Jessie: "And so even with the danger that those three can pose to our full group—much less yourself alone with the new kid—you still acted without caution?!"

Connie: "Oh, you wanna play that game? Alright, fine! Mylings are the result of infanticide; the screams we heard were that of a pre-teen girl. Sirens live in the ocean, not the middle of the forest, Miss Know-it-all! Aswangs infiltrate cities and families—they do not, and have never, mimicked a child in distress! Oh, and if you wanna talk about caution so much, then why don't I rehash our little argument about John! Do you seriously expect me to believe that charging into what I know to be a Monster is more dangerous than allowing a mysteriously bloodied kid to eat and sleep within our campsite as if nothing about him is strange?!"

Jessie: "So you're still wary of him? After he saved your life?"

Connie: "Oh, sorry, I thought that was 'hindsight'  your majesty! Of course I trust John now, but my point is that you've hardly been cautious of anything since a little kid, who could have been anyone in the world, just happened to stumble into your camp! Weren't you the least bit worried about whether or not your sister was in danger?!"

Jessie: "You do not have the right to talk about my sister!"

Connie: "I have the right to speak on anything I wish—anything at all! If you're gonna have a yelling match with me, you better be prepared to hear shit you should have been on top of since last week!"

Steven: "Alright, alright! That's enough!"

This was the first time that Steven had really ever raised his voice around me. Judging from the expressions everyone else gave, an angry and stern Steven was rarely a fun one.

Steven: "One at a time. Go."

Jessie: "What exactly am I supposed to elaborate on? We were in the same position: unable to know the livelihood of the person we're supposed to call our friend."

Steven: "If Connie's truly your friend, you should be able to trust in her strength, right?"

Jessie: "What if it had been more than one Monster? What if it had been multiple Smack Palms? You know how Connie handles those things, the way she freezes up like that!"

Steven: "I'm well aware of her weakness, but I'd like to hear it from our only other eyewitness."

Steven stepped to the side and waved me forward, allowing me the room to speak up on what I knew.

John: "Well, she seemed scared at first..."

Jessie: "You see?! And if she had seized up any longer, she would have—"

Steven: "One at a time!"

With Jessie's outburst stopped in its tracks, Steven once again gestured for me to talk.

John: "But when there was truly no other way, she didn't back down. If it wasn't for her, I think all four of us would have died. I already have a bad habit of running into things I shouldn't be running into, so it's not like she could have stopped me."

Connie: "John, I—"

Steven: "You can save the praise for later. This is discussion time."

Connie: "—Right, sorry."

Steven: "As I understand it, each of you has one major point you wish to make. Something that's harder to say out loud, but is nonetheless the root of this argument."

He paused for a moment, as if waiting for the others to pitch in with exactly what they thought their major point was. Nobody took the bait.

Steven: "Alright then, fine...Not to poke holes in your hearts, but I'd rather keep this blunt. Connie, you've got a soft spot for kids."

Connie: "—Eep!"

Ann: "And Jess, you really hate it when people get out of your line of sight. It's like a re-enactment of my death all over again."

Jessie: "—Haah—"

Ann: "Though, come to think of it, that happened right in front of you—wait, how did you even develop that fear?!"

John: "Wait, so they're both just...scared?"

Steven: "Hate to break it to ya, kid, but most adults are."

Ann: "Thankfully, these two fear loss more than anything else. That's an easy argument to fix."

The two women, shocked at the emotional betrayal of their friends, took one final look at each other with their perspectives now laid out on the ground. It was a brutal way to get the ball rolling, but Steven's tactics ensured that nothing would remain unsaid—after all, the most important parts of what they wanted to say had just been spelled out by the two people who knew them the best.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Once the tension between the group had finally settled, and the fears between Connie and Jessie had been acknowledged, all that was left was to move forward. With that, only one variable of that night remained unchecked. And that was—

Jessie: "If you can, I'd like you to try and cast magic again."

John: "I'm really sorry, but that was the first time I had ever done it."

Jessie: "I know, that's why I only want you to try."

John: "Mm..."

A short groan escaped my mouth, and with that exasperation, a pair of arms grasped my own from behind, and pointed me off of the cliffside. Staring into the deep beyond, right at the transparent red dome of the sky, a woman raised my gloved hand up to the shining moon.

Ann: "It'll be alright. Just concentrate on what's inside of you."

What's inside me...What is inside me?

A purple ball of light, ebbing and twisting, taking many forms, awaiting the command of the person ready to use it to its maximum potential. A malleable entity capable of many things, as vast as the imagination of that which wishes to command it.

A purple ball of light.

Capable of a massive explosion of purple light.

John: "What do I do with it?"

Ann: "Anything at all—though, preferably, maybe something a bit less destructive than last time!"

John: "Something smaller..."

If I could take a piece of that ball—just a small piece—would it keep its shape? Would I be left with two spheres, or a sphere with a chunk taken out of it and a chunk to shoot into space?

John: "Like this! Go!"

And then, the instructions became clear to me. How to best form that new ball of light from the malleable pile, and shape the new chunk into something usable. What I needed to do became clear, as if I had already done this before in many lifetimes.

Just a piece!

And with a simple thought, the malleable chunk began its process. 

From my outstretched hand, a web of purple light began to appear. Hovering inches in front of my palm, it began to carve itself into the world, with shape and reason beyond my understanding. It was a magical circle of runic engravings.

An outer circle, and a circle within that. Between the two rounded lines was a mirage of other symbols, some of which I could recognize at first glance—one that must be fire, and water, and earth, and air, and the sun, and gravity, and strength, and weakness—the symbols continued to grow in number endlessly, and even looking at the same spot twice would reveal an entirely new symbol.

Then, it continued to carve into the world.

An outer circle, symbolic engravings, an inner circle, and then in continuation, the entirety of the inner circle became the canvas for a symbol unique to my own ability. It seemed to want to carve something into itself for me—an answer to my query of what is this that I couldn't seem to find the answer to myself.

But then, when it stopped carving that unique symbol, I understood what it wanted from me.

You want to know...what I think you are?

The image of the bright moon in front of me, and the purple light that guided my fight to victory in a dark forest bereft of the sun. If my power were to be a reflection of that guiding light, then I could only be able to cast one specific thing—

You are the power of Moonlight.

The magical circle seemed to take that answer without hesitation, concluding the process that it began within fractions of a second, all conversation drifting in and out of my mind within those fractions. The unique symbol that was left in its wake, and that was to decide how I perceived my power—

To me, I can see Moonlight as being a four-point star. 

So, that was what had been engraved into the center, as the largest and most present symbol on the circle. A four-point star, representing my perception of Moonlight, and what I believed my power to be.

Then, as time came back to normal, the circle began to glow, emanating a brighter purple as its luminance grew. When it seemed too bright to handle, I let go of the connection between myself and the circle, and what came out was the result of my plight.

Ann: "Woah!"

Jessie: "Then it's true!"

Connie: "He really can do it!"

Steven: "Did he just...pitch a baseball into the sky?"

A small ball of purple light shot out from the circle, leaving the area in the size of about a baseball. It shot up into the sky, seeming to have no intention of falling back down, as if it was able to ignore gravity itself.

Well, not too far from how light works, I guess.

I must have been on the right track.

Connie: "Hey—John! Your nose."

John: "Mhuh?"

Wiping my nose clean, what came off onto my skin was a liquid all too familiar with me at that point. It was the same fluid that had flooded the forest that night, bereft of life.

John: "Why am I...bleeding?"