Tod leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, his eyes flicking between Max and Matthew, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "So you really just sat there with your eyes closed trying to see invisible threads?" he teased Max.
Max rolled her eyes, smirking. "You try it then, genius."
"I just might," Tod said, then turned to Matthew. "Seriously though, can you teach me too? That sounds way cooler than reading dusty history books all day. How did you even learn about that stuff anyway?"
Matthew shrugged slightly, legs swinging off the side of the bed as he looked down for a second before meeting Tod's gaze again. "Everyone's got a talent with Arts," he said matter-of-factly, his voice still soft with youth but carrying the seriousness of someone who'd thought a lot about this. "Some people are born really blessed. It's like... the One Power just listens to them. They can feel it, use it, almost without trying."
Tod nodded slowly, brows raised in interest.
"But not everyone's like that," Matthew added. "Some aren't born lucky. They have to train harder, a lot harder. It's not fair... but that's just how it is."
Max glanced at him, thoughtful now, her earlier teasing tone gone.
Tod raised both eyebrows in amusement as Matthew pointed at him. "You've got some talent," the younger boy said with playful seriousness, "but not a lot."
"Oh, ouch." Tod clutched his chest in mock pain. "Way to crush a guy's dreams, Your Majesty."
Matthew then turned toward Max. "You're a bit better than him."
Max blinked, then narrowed her eyes. "Better how?"
"Just… a little better," Matthew repeated with a small shrug, trying not to smirk.
Max scoffed, folding her arms. "And what about you then, huh? Since you're handing out ratings."
Matthew only smiled, leaning back slightly with that quiet, self-assured air of his. "You'll see," he said. "It's better if you see it yourself."
There was a beat of silence before Tod let out a low whistle. "Listen to this guy. So humble."
Max shook her head with a grin. "He really is royalty, huh? Even the Arts decided to make it easy for him."
"Guess we should start calling him Prince Matthew now," Tod added, elbowing the air for emphasis.
The three laughed, the sound light and warm, filling the little room like a secret only they were in on.
Matthew's smile lingered, but his tone shifted slightly—just enough to quiet the teasing energy in the room. "The reason I said it's better if you see it yourselves," he began, "is 'cause… apparently, I'm not just blessed. I'm super blessed. Like, way more than the usual kind."
Max and Tod both gave him matching looks: brows drawn, eyes narrowed with playful suspicion.
"Oh really," Tod said slowly, "super blessed?"
Max raised an eyebrow. "What's next? You're actually a prince?"
Matthew shrugged, not rising to the bait. "I'm serious. About a month ago, this weird old man passed by my village. He called himself the Truth Seeker. Said I was special—something about being wrapped in more blue threads than anyone he'd ever seen. Then he taught me one Art: Fireball. After that, he just… disappeared."
That caught their attention. Max leaned forward slightly, intrigued. Tod tilted his head.
"Truth Seeker?" he repeated. "Never heard of that title before."
"Me neither," Matthew admitted. "Doesn't ring any bells."
Max exhaled and rested back against the bed's headboard. "There are so many titles out there now. Every big-shot wants to be known for something. It's hard to remember all of them. Only the ones that do something insane or world-shaking ever stick."
Tod nodded. "Makes sense. Still, kinda weird though. Teaching you Fireball and vanishing? That's the kind of thing that happens in old stories."
Matthew gave a quiet laugh. "Yeah… that's what I thought too."
Max turned toward him again, her expression unreadable at first. Then she asked, "Wait… does that mean Fireball's the only Art you know?"
Matthew hesitated, then nodded, his voice a bit quieter. "Yeah… just Fireball."
For a second, he felt a little embarrassed—like he'd been bragging too much for someone who barely knew anything. But before the silence could settle in uncomfortably, Max let out a low whistle.
"Only seven, and you already know Fireball?" she said, clearly impressed. "That's insane."
Tod crossed his arms with a grin. "Seriously, even nobles our age can't pull that off. Half of 'em can't even see the One Power, let alone use it."
Max nodded. "Yeah. A lot of them have tutors and fancy tools, and still can't do what you're doing. And you're not even from a noble house."
Matthew blinked, caught off guard by the sudden praise. He felt the faint warmth of pride rise in his chest, replacing the shame. He looked down at his hands—the same ones that could call fire from blue threads—and allowed himself a small smile.
Matthew tilted his head slightly, then gave a small shake of it. "What about you guys? What do you wanna be when you grow up?"
The question seemed to catch both Tod and Max off guard. Tod blinked, leaning his back against the wall and folding his arms as if he hadn't thought about it in a while. He let out a quiet sigh, the kind that said he'd already made peace with the answer. "I dunno. I'll probably end up a soldier."
He gave a half-shrug and continued, "Get married, settle down somewhere here in Coupitia City—if thing work out. If not, I'll be sent off to guard some village or outpost somewhere and… that's that. Live out the rest of my life that way."
Matthew frowned. That felt… small. Not because being a soldier wasn't good, but because it sounded like Tod had already given up on dreaming bigger. "That's it?" Matthew asked, not judging—just confused. "That's all you wanna do?"
Tod gave a dry chuckle, not offended. "It's not really what I want, Matt. It's just being realistic." He glanced over at the younger boy. "I'm not blessed by the One Power. Doesn't seem like I've got much talent with the sword either. So, with me coming from an orphanage? That's about the best thing I could hope for."
Matthew looked down, quietly processing that. It wasn't right. It felt like someone as cool and kind as Tod deserved more than just the bare minimum. But… he could hear the acceptance in Tod's tone. It wasn't a dream. It was a survival plan.
Max perked up as Tod finished speaking, clearly ready to give her answer. She leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming with excitement. "I wanna be a cool fighter," she said proudly, "one that's known all over the world. Like the Flower Sword of Solfia—or her rival, the Silver Sword."
Matthew's eyes widened. "They're some of the strongest swordswomen on the whole continent!"
Tod chuckled like he wasn't surprised at all. "Honestly? Makes sense. Max has always been good at fighting… just not the usual kind." He looked at her with a small smirk. "Whenever we spar with wooden sticks, if she fights fair and square, I win—'cause I'm older and way bigger. But she never fights fair. She uses everything around her—walls, dirt, whatever's close. It's less like a sword fight and more like some wild animal trying to survive."
Matthew gasped in awe. "That… that sounds just like the Savage Struggle style!"
Max tilted her head. "Savage what now?"
"It's this weird sword style that some say isn't even real swordsmanship," Matthew explained, his voice full of wonder. "They say it doesn't follow any rules or forms—just instincts, chaos, survival. But people who've seen it say it's terrifying. Fighters who use it don't care about elegance, they care about winning. No matter what."
Max grinned, clearly proud. "Sounds like my kind of thing!"
Matthew chuckled softly. "I read about it in one of my mom's books," he said, his small hands gesturing as he spoke. "It talked about how the Savage Struggle style was used by the Dragon Slayer of the Great Empire. That guy uses it!"
The room went completely silent.
Tod's posture stiffened and Max's eyes widened in disbelief.
"The Dragon Slayer?" Tod asked, almost in a whisper. "That Dragon Slayer?"
Matthew blinked, surprised by how serious they suddenly got. "Uh… yeah?"
Max practically exploded. "Are you serious?! He's, like—he's one of the strongest people alive! There are, what, maybe twenty people in the entire world who are even close to his level!"
"And he's the Champion of the Great Empire," Tod added, shaking his head slowly. "That's not just a strong faction, Matthew—that's the strongest. If someone like him uses Savage Struggle, then that style isn't just real, it's legit terrifying."
Max was now half-standing on the bed, eyes blazing with determination. "That's it. I have to learn it. It's literally perfect for me! No rules, no forms, just instinct and surviving by any means. And if someone at the very top of the world uses it—then that proves it. The style has merit. It's not weak, it's not sloppy—it works. Really works."
Matthew grinned, excited by her energy. "I knew you'd like it. I was reminded of it when I first saw you."
Max pumped her fist. "Savage Struggle, huh? Fine. If that's the path to the top, then I'm taking it. Even if I have to fight dirty every single time."
Tod laughed, clearly amused by the energy in the room, then turned toward Matthew with a curious tilt of his head. "What about you, Matthew? What do you want to become?"
For a brief moment, Matthew's expression dimmed—sadness flickered in his eyes, just a second, a tiny crack in his usual bright demeanor—but then he pushed it down and smiled wide.
"I'm gonna be known as the Red Sage!" he declared proudly, puffing up his chest a little. "The best Arts User in the whole world! The One Power chose me for a reason!"
Max stared at him for a beat—then exploded into laughter, nearly falling backwards on the bed. "Red Sage?! You little copycat! You totally stole that from the Green Sage!"
Matthew blinked. "Did not!"
Tod raised a brow, more puzzled than amused. "Aren't titles something people give you after you do something really impressive? Not something you… just make up for yourself?"
Max waved him off between giggles. "Forget that—where's the red?! The Green Sage has green hair, right? You're blonde! You don't even have anything red on you!"
Matthew flushed with embarrassment, his cheeks turning a little pink. "W-well, yeah—but that's why I chose it!" he protested. "No one uses red in their titles! Everyone picks silver or blue or gold or stuff like that. I wanted something different."
Max kept laughing, Tod chuckled too, and despite the teasing, there was something warm about it all—an unspoken acceptance of Matthew's dream, no matter how ridiculous it might've sounded.
"Red Sage, huh?" Max grinned wide. "Alright then, Your Sageness. You better live up to it."
Tod furrowed his brow, clearly pondering something, then tilted his head and said, "Wait… but what about the Red Fist and the Red Warrior? They both use red in their titles, don't they?"
Max immediately burst out laughing again. "He's got you there, oh mighty Red Sage!"
Matthew huffed and crossed his arms, frowning. "That doesn't count!"
Tod blinked. "Why not?"
"Because," Matthew said, very matter-of-factly, "Red Fist is evil. He's, like, a villain! Everyone hates him. So that one doesn't count."
Tod raised a brow, still unconvinced, and Matthew continued quickly, "And Red Warrior is just a Fighter, not an Arts User. So he doesn't count either!"
Max snorted, still grinning, while Tod nodded slowly, a little surprised but clearly impressed by Matthew's arguments. "Huh. Fair enough," he said. "Didn't think about it that way."
Matthew sat up a little straighter, proud of his defense. Max gave him a playful nudge with her elbow and smirked. "Fine, Red Sage. You win this one."
Tod let out a quiet sigh and turned his gaze toward the small window in Matthew's room. The sky outside was a blanket of black, stars faint and scattered.
"I'm getting sleepy," he murmured, stretching his arms above his head. "I'll head to bed."
Max looked over and gave a short nod. "Alright. Night, Tod."
"I'll stay a little longer," she added, glancing at Matthew with a small smile.
Tod nodded as he stepped toward the door. "Goodnight, you two."
"Goodnight," Matthew and Max echoed together, their voices quiet in the calm of the room.
With that, Tod opened the door and slipped out, closing it gently behind him, leaving the two alone under the soft glow of the small lamp.
...
As the door clicked softly shut behind Tod, Matthew stared at it for a moment, then turned to Max.
"He's a really nice guy," he said quietly.
Max nodded. "Yeah, he is."
Matthew pulled his knees up a little on the bed, resting his chin on them. "This morning, after I washed my face and was walking to the dining hall... I felt kinda lonely. Everyone was ignoring me, or maybe just didn't see me, I don't know. But then Tod showed up, walked with me, started talking and joking. Made it all fun. It really helped."
Max gave a small chuckle and leaned back slightly on her hands. "That's Tod for you. He's always like that. Acts like an older brother to everyone."
She looked at Matthew with a playful smirk. "And now that you've joined us, you'll just have to get used to it too."
Matthew blinked, surprised. "Wait… I joined you guys?"
Max gave him a flat look, raising an eyebrow as if he'd just said the dumbest thing in the world. "What are you, an idiot?" she said, nudging his shoulder. "Of course you did. Why else do you think we've been hanging out with you all day long?"
That made Matthew's chest feel warm. He smiled, a real one, soft and genuine.
Max caught it and grinned. "But don't get too happy yet. Your payment for joining our awesome group is teaching me more about the One Power."
Matthew chuckled. "I tried. You're just not a good student."
She groaned and crossed her arms with a grumble. "Well excuse me for not being able to see invisible blue strings floating in the air!"
The laughter between them faded into a gentle silence, the air shifting as Max let out a small sigh and looked at Matthew more closely.
"Hey… are you alright?" she asked softly.
Matthew tilted his head, a little confused. "Huh? I mean… I was just laughing."
Max gave him a small shake of her head, her tone more careful now. "No, I mean… really. In general. How are you doing?"
Her voice wavered slightly at the end, like she wasn't sure if she should've asked. She hesitated for a beat before finally continuing. "It's just… you lost your parents. Two days ago, right? When the Black Tower attacked. That's not something that just… goes away."
Matthew froze. The smile slipped from his face like a leaf falling off a tree. He didn't say anything at first—he just slumped a little, his shoulders curling inward, his gaze dropping to the floor. His legs swung slightly off the bed, but slower now. He didn't cry, not even close, but his whole face changed.
Sadness sat on him like a quiet shadow.
"…Yeah," he finally said, barely above a whisper.
Matthew sat still for a bit, swinging his feet lightly again before whispering, "I don't know, really. I'm not sure how to feel. I miss them. A lot."
His voice cracked just slightly, but he kept going, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap.
"But… the Cavias Family was really nice to me. And the Marlston sisters are still okay. You'd probably love them," he added with a small, fond smile. "They're tiny and full of energy. Always running around."
Max didn't respond—she just waited. Letting him go at his own pace.
"And… even though you guys kind of scared me yesterday—" he gave her a brief side-eye, and Max smirked faintly "—I think… I'm glad I met you. All of you feel… warm."
His voice lowered at the end, like he was admitting something fragile.
"I think it's because of all the people helping me these last two days that I'm not as sad as I should be." He paused again, more tears gathering at the corners of his eyes now, but he didn't blink fast or sniffle. He just let the feeling sit.
"But… I'm still sad. I still miss them."
And with that, a few silent tears welled and slipped down his cheeks. Matthew didn't sob or make a sound. He simply raised a hand and gently wiped them away, as if brushing off morning dew.
Then he turned to Max and smiled—a soft, grateful one.
"Thanks, Max. Really. For being here."
It wasn't dramatic, it wasn't loud—it was just true.
Max's cheeks flushed a light pink, her usual boldness faltering for a moment. She looked away, tucking a strand of messy blonde hair behind her ear.
"…It's nothing," she mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "We just hang around you 'cause you're cool and fun… and, I mean, you know Arts, so that's something too."
Matthew chuckled softly at that, his small hands resting in his lap as he leaned back a little, not saying anything in return. The sound of quiet breathing filled the space, the warmth of the room settling around them like a blanket.
A few moments passed in silence, not awkward, just… still.
Then Max shifted slightly on the bed, her tone losing its usual energy as she spoke again—this time more hesitant, softer.
"…The Black Tower took my parents too."
Matthew didn't say a word.
He just stared, eyes wide and lips parted slightly in stunned silence, the remnants of his earlier tears forgotten as he listened to Max's voice, now low and steady—almost too steady.
She didn't look at him when she spoke. Her gaze was fixed ahead, distant, heavy. "Four months ago," she began, "I was just like any kid. Playing outside with the others… helping Mom cook, laughing with her. She always made the stew too salty, but I still liked it." She gave a dry little laugh.
Matthew stayed quiet, his hands folded tightly in his lap.
"Dad was always trying to teach me how to work with the cows and sheep. He said I had no patience. He was right." Her voice dipped quieter.
"Then, one night… they came." Her jaw clenched, the corners of her mouth twitching. "The Black Tower. They didn't even speak. They just appeared. One second, there was peace. The next, fire."
She finally turned to glance at him, just briefly, as if to make sure he was still there, still listening. He was.
"They killed everyone. Anyone who resisted, gone. Anyone who didn't—also gone. The guards were outnumbered, barely fought back. But a few of them managed to get us—the kids—out of there. We ran. We didn't look back. And when we got to Coupitia…"
Her voice faded for a second before she found it again.
"…that was it. That was the end of the village. Like it never existed. Just another dot erased from the map. That's how the Black Tower works. They kill, they take the bodies… and no one ever knows why."
Matthew's throat was tight. He wanted to ask so many things—but he didn't. Something told him it wasn't time for questions. It was time for listening.
He looked at her, this girl who joked so much and teased him like an older sister would. And for the first time, he saw the weight she carried underneath it all.
She didn't cry, but her fists were clenched at her sides now. Her back was a little straighter. She looked tired. Tired in a way no twelve-year-old should look.
After a few seconds of silence, Matthew finally whispered, his voice barely above a breath, "…I'm sorry."
Max shrugged, like it didn't matter—but the way she avoided his gaze made it clear that it did.
"It's just how things are now," she muttered. "That's why I have to get strong. Strong enough that it never happens again."
And for once, Matthew didn't smile.
He just nodded. Quietly, firmly. Like a promise.
Max's fists trembled on her knees as her voice grew heavier, deeper—not louder, but sharper, like every word was a blade.
"I'll make them pay," she said, her eyes now burning with rage. "One day… I'll make sure they feel everything they've done. I'll make them suffer for every village. For every family. For my parents. For yours."
The hatred in her voice was so raw, so real, it startled Matthew.
He stared at her, wide-eyed and quiet, caught off guard by the fire suddenly pouring out of her. He had never seen her like this before. Not laughing. Not teasing. Not sneaky or playful. Just… furious.
Max noticed his expression and quickly turned away, her face twisting as she forced the emotion down. She tried to put on a more neutral look, though it was stiff, a little forced.
"Sorry," she muttered. "Didn't mean to scare you."
Matthew slowly shook his head, his voice low but steady. "I'm not scared," he said. "I feel the same."
Max blinked and looked back at him, confused by the calm resolve on his young face.
Then Matthew leaned forward a little, his blue eyes locking with hers. "I'll help you do it," he said.
She blinked, startled. "Do what?"
He didn't hesitate. Just two small words.
"Take revenge."
Max gasped, her breath catching in her throat. The words hung in the air between them—sharp, heavy, and real.
She didn't know what to say. Revenge was such a deep part of her now that hearing someone else say it, want it, promise it… it shook her. She looked at Matthew, her lips parting slightly in surprise, in disbelief. He was just seven. Just a little boy.
But then—he smiled.
And as he did, he lifted his hand and reached out into the air like he was grabbing something unseen. The space around them shimmered faintly. It almost looked wrong for a second, as though the air had bent or cracked. Then, a flicker—like a spark leaping from flint to dry grass.
Max leaned forward, eyes wide.
A flame appeared between Matthew's fingers. It hovered there, glowing softly, swirling into a small, burning orb—a Fireball.
He looked at her, the flame dancing in his palm, and spoke with quiet certainty.
"I'm blessed when it comes to the One Power. Even those Black Tower bastards said so when they saw me."
The Fireball burned a little brighter for a second, as if reacting to his words. "I'll train. Hard. Every day. I'll become the Red Sage." He paused, then pointed directly at her.
"We'll do it together."
His voice dropped, hardening, his smile gone now, replaced by a fire that matched the one in his hand. "We'll bring the Black Tower to the ground. We'll destroy it completely."
Max stared at him.
And then… she chuckled. It started small, almost disbelieving, before she nodded—slowly at first, then firmly.
"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, we will."
...
Later that night, Max sat on the edge of her creaky bed, knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. The moonlight slipped faintly through the narrow window, illuminating the rough floorboards and peeling walls of her tiny room. It was colder here than Matthew's room had been, and far more cramped.
The second bed on the other side of the room was occupied—one of the younger girls was already snoring loudly, completely unaware of the world around her.
Max rolled her eyes at the sound, annoyed, but she didn't dwell on it.
Instead, her mind drifted.
To him.
She remembered Matthew—his words, his smile, the fire dancing in his hand, and most of all… his promise.
Two simple words, yet powerful enough to shift something inside her:
Take revenge.
She'd heard all the other kids. Many had lost their families too. She'd talked to them—told them of her desire. But all she ever saw in their eyes was fear. Fear of the Black Tower. Fear of their power. Fear of even speaking against them.
But Matthew hadn't flinched. He hadn't backed away.
He'd said he'd stand with her.
And he meant it.
Max felt a tightness in her chest start to ease, just a little. She wasn't alone anymore. That thought settled into her bones like a quiet warmth. Maybe the road ahead was still long, still bloody, still terrifying. But it wasn't just hers to walk now. She had someone beside her.
She leaned back slowly, letting herself rest against the cold wall, a small smile tugging at her lips in the dark.
She wasn't alone anymore.
And that made all the difference.
—End of Chapter.