In Mistwood's main street, under the bright light of the morning suns, a big building stood tall. Its solemn frame dwarfed most buildings.

  Its architecture reminded one of a rundown high school mixed with a Victorian era mansion. A foundation of stone. Grand marble stairs, leading to its massive wooden door.

  The plaster walls of its main floor, ornate with perfectly lined up windows, exuded a sense of elegance unmatched in Mistwood. In the building's main hallway, footsteps of two men echoed off the clean wooden floor.

  “...Why do you have such bad luck?” Noah asked Elyas, his eyes droopy and his steps heavy from tiredness.

  “I didn't even know we had schools for Dreamers, or combat. Why are you blaming me? It was you who started a fight everywhere we went! ” Elyas didn't hesitate to call out Noah.

  “There's no use in arguing. As much as I don't like it, this is our last hope. ” Soon, Noah stopped by a door. He hesitated as he looked at the tag beside it.

  Managers office

  He inhaled deeply as he turned the handle.

  “Knock you Imbecile. How many times do I have to— oh! It's Enforcer Jones!” A fat man said as he rushed beside Noah.

  Noah's expression turned stiff when he saw the man. He was contemplating on how to act. Meanwhile, Elyas was examining the room

  There wasn't much to look at, it was a simple office. A large wooden table, several chairs against the wall. A rusty hanging clock near the corner of the door, and several iron cabinets behind the fat man. Noah stretched his hand. He had decided his approach.

  “It's been how long? Five years since then? You've…certainly grown much “grander” than before. “ Noah spoke in the friendliest tone he could manage. But the words couldn't sound more forceful. It was as if a man had pointed a gun to his head.

  Upon hearing Noah, the fat man was weirded out. But shook his hand anyway “Enforcer Jones, are you alright? Are you feeling under the weather today? you're red…I know we didn't have a great relationship, but it was all in the past.” He paused, seemingly remembering something.

  “Oh, I nearly forgot! To think you came to visit me on your own.” He rubbed his hands together as he walked to his desk and carried a stack of papers out.

  He turned towards Noah and Elyas “This is a contract for two hundred gold. I know it's not much, but please take it as my apology. ”

  Noah's expression changed immediately. His words were no longer forced. Now full of anger and resentment.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “You… Do you think this is enough? Do you think I'm stupid? I helped you integrate into society. Helped you when everyone of my colleagues wanted you dead… and this, this is how you repay kindness?! After you backstabbed me?! ”

  “I'm sorry Enforcer, this is all I can give you right now. I know it doesn't bring your position back… But I will do anything to repay you, please, give me a chance. ” The fat man said, not daring to look at Noah out of shame.

  Noah sighed “Hanan, you're lucky today. I need something from you. You see this man behind me? He is Elyas. A True Legacy like myself. I need you to sign him in. ”

  Hanan's eyes widened. He immediately turned his head towards Elyas, reevaluating him. Then he rushed to his desk and got another stack of papers out. “Enforcer, know that back then I was forced to testify against you.”

  Noah rolled his eyes. Hanan quickly put the papers along with a few ink pens on the desk.

  “Sir… Mister Elyas, do you mind filling these forms?” Hanan asked Elyas gently, trying to please them both.

  “Sure.” Elyas sat down at one of the chairs and filled the form. Soon, they were out of Hanan's office and the school's hallway.

  “You and that guy don't seem to be on good terms.”

  “It's a long story, just know that the guy was a notorious criminal before I helped him.” Noah spoke with a pained voice, reminiscing about the past

  “If that bastard doesn't sell me again, today shouldn't be a problem. ” Elyas nodded his head. A question kept rising up in his mind. “Your financial situation isn't good, so why didn't you get the two hundred gold coins?”

  “The Protocol prohibited us from interacting. I don't want to leave evidence of today, let alone sign a contract.”

  “So, I'm going to work. What are you gonna do?” he asked.

  “Ehh… I think I'm going to familiarise myself with the city.”

  Noah shrugged. “Alright. But be careful.” Without saying anything else, he left. Elyas glanced around, somewhat overwhelmed.

  “I feel like a medieval present navigating the internet …” The crowd moved with incredible speed. Men and women rushed to enter the various shops in town square.

  Some let their children play near the massive frozen fountain in the park. Some flew on strange objects, others on all kinds of amphibians. But most walked on foot. Buying daily necessities.

  Elyas walked towards the park. As he did, he saw a man wearing a fedora and windbreaker open rifts in reality, sending people inside.

  “Well, I guess someone's gotta keep human trafficking alive.” He let out a soft chuckle. People looked at him as if watching a madman. Some mothers covered their children's ears.

  ‘Oh right, I shouldn't talk to myself…’ He walked the rest of the way in silence. Found a seat in the far back, and sat.

  He enjoyed the weather. Although cold, it was still better than the turbid, still air of the void.

  He listened to the birds chirping, the children's little games.

  Observed as bakers baked and put fresh bread and delicacies on display. Watched as someone got mugged by two thugs. He spectated as children rushed outside of the Victorian high school.

  It felt like a minute had, but when he came to his senses, he realised that it was already dusk.

  “Wha—what the hell?” He got up and hurriedly ran to the square again. ‘Where was I supposed to go again?’

  Elyas tried to remember. To catch a better view, and maybe ignite a flame of recognition, he climbed up the marble stairs.

  His plan somehow worked. Remembering which way they had come, he ran back to the street, but as he did, he knocked someone down.

  Glancing at the man he stumbled into for a moment, he noted that it was not an elder.

  ‘Oh thank god. The last thing I want is a dead old man.’

  He hurriedly helped the man get up and rushed back home.

  …

  Two weeks ago. In Mistwoods cemetery.

  The cold wind brought with it the year's first snow. It piled onto the graves. Adding a white layer to the dead's forever blankets.

  Beside the graveyard, was a pile of dead bodies. Most of which neither had family to mourn them, or any money to have bed for their eternal slumber.

  No one cared enough to check them. They would be tossed outside anyway. Food for the Figments. That's an average end for a backstreet rat.

  Among the pile, was a fresh, nearly complete body of a young blond boy with dark blue, open eyes. He only had bruises here and there, nothing serious. From his purple skin, it could be discerned that he had died of illness. Or a hard beating.

  Another common end for the poor folk. But what wasn't common or normal, was the fact that the boy was standing up. Cracking his neck, the blond boy's skin slowly regained its luster as it convulsion with the rest of his body. It was as if something was moving inside it.

  Gaining the strength to blink again, his eyes rolled back. As his pupils changed color to deep scarlet, almost black. The boy let out a smile. “It's good to be back home.” He inhaled. “Ah

  h. The fog. Never missed it, but Mistwood…”

  His smile widened. “Oh I've Missed you so so much!”