I walked, step after step, my eyes fixed on the ground. I couldn't tell my mother, and today was the promised day. I was desperately lucky she had forgotten the date; if she had remembered, she would never have let me leave the house, just like every other year.
I'd left her a note. I'd promised her in that I would return, so I had to return, no matter the cost.
A voice calling my name cut through my thoughts. I looked up to see my friend, Green, standing in front of a park bench, waving for me to come over. This meeting was planned, a decision we had made together. We would face the Trial together.
He was smiling. He was always smiling, and that grin of his always managed to pull one from me, too. Today was no different. I found myself smiling as I walked toward him while he waved like an idiot, just like always. When I reached him, we performed our elaborate, special handshake first, and then we sat down.
"So, did you tell her?" Green asked, running a hand through his shock of green hair.
"No, I couldn't," I admitted. "But I left a note. What about you?"
"If I'd told my dad, he would have locked me in my room for a week. You wouldn't be seeing me right now. Of course I didn't tell him. He'll figure it out on his own later. Did you get any money?"
"Not much. Only a hundred dinars."
Green reached into his pocket and pulled out a crisp, green banknote. 'Two Thousand Dinars' was printed on it, bearing the stern faces of the six individuals known as The Group of Six, the heroes who had saved the country when the Gates first appeared and the monsters attacked.
He smiled, a flash of triumph in his eyes. "This will be enough for the trip, for good food, and for cigarettes. Maybe we can even find someone to buy us a bottle of beer. I wish I'd gotten enough for a stripper, but this is all I could manage."
I stared at the note, a cold knot forming in my stomach.
"Don't tell me you stole that from your father."
Green tucked it back into his pocket, relaxed into the bench, and said, "If we succeed, I'll pay him back ten times over. And if we fail... well, he won't care about the money then, right?"
He had a point, and I had no argument. The deed was done; the money couldn't be returned now. There was no turning back. I just sighed and let myself sink deeper into the bench.
"If you could steal that much, why not take more?"
"If I took more and we failed, I'd only cause him real trouble. Then he definitely wouldn't mourn me. This is enough. If we don't make it back, I want to at least see him cry for me. It would be a funny sight."
Green laughed as if it were a joke, but I didn't join in. I just looked at him, surprised by his words. He wasn't joking; he was speaking deadly seriously beneath a thin veil of humor. Even his laugh carried a distinct, heavy weight of sadness.
What we were about to do was serious. It was the most significant and irrevocable decision we had ever made.
"Shall we go?" Green finally sighed, breaking the silence.
He stood, and I rose with him. Together, we started walking toward the high-speed train station. The path of no return was now under our feet. We walked in silence for a while before Green broke it.
"I don't want to say this, but I feel I have to. This decision is easier for me. I'm an only child, too, but I'm just leaving my dad. He's already remarried; he can make other children if he wants. He doesn't need me. I'm just a nuisance to him. But you... you're leaving your mother, and she's all alone. A mother feels the loss of a son more deeply. The weight of this decision for you is so much heavier than it is for me. If we don't win... I don't think my dad will cry. But if he does, he'll have his wife's shoulder to lean on. Your mother will cry alone. You can still back out. Or, you can come with me, we'll have a fun trip, and I'll give you enough money to get back." Green didn't look at me as he spoke.
We just kept walking, our eyes on the path ahead or down at our feet. I turned his words over in my mind. When he fell silent, the quiet stretched between us as I considered everything seriously.
"My mother hinted to me once that she wanted to get married," I said finally. "I got so angry back then. I saw it as a betrayal of my father, even though he'd been gone for years. She's still young and beautiful. She needs a man to provide for her. A few months ago, there was a man. He was talking to her on the phone, wanting to marry her. But she told him she wouldn't accept unless he spoke with me first. He called me. My mother told me he was just a friend, but she asked me to go with her to meet him. He took us to a fancy restaurant for lunch. Slowly, very slowly, he steered the conversation toward marriage."
I took a shaky breath. "I humiliated him. In front of everyone in the restaurant, I acted like a fool. I shouted, I spilled food, I made a scene. I still remember the look in his eyes,a mix of sadness and shock after he'd just told me his own sad story, about how his wife and daughter had died, and how only my mother understood his pain. But I didn't understand any of it. I was reckless. I still am."
"I called him before I came here. It was the hardest call I've ever made. I told him what we were going to do, and I apologized for what happened. I told him to take care of my mother no matter what happens to us, whether we fail or succeed. I didn't think he would agree. I thought he'd say, 'I'm with someone else now, I want nothing to do with you.' But he cried. On the phone. I heard him clearly. It got to me, and I cried, too. I told him to record the call, for it to be my final message to my mother. That was the message I left for her."
"He tried to convince me not to go. He said my mother would never be happy if something happened to me, that he wouldn't be able to heal her wounds if I failed. He's traveling now, and he told me to wait for him, that he would come to me immediately. I told him it would be too late. But he said he would come anyway." I looked over at Green. "If I hadn't made this decision, I would never have called him. I would never have apologized. But that doesn't mean we will fail. We will return. We should never talk about the possibility of failure again."
Green smiled. "I can't believe we're talking like adults now. We've always spent our time talking about nonsense and butts. Look at us now, discussing all these serious, boring topics. Let's change the subject. Did you watch the fight last night?"
"Oh, right! I'd completely forgotten. I told you Water would defeat Fire. He utterly humiliated him. The Fire Emperor didn't leave a single scratch on the Water Dragon. If it were a real fight, he would have killed him by drowning."
"I expected a difficult victory for the Fire Emperor," Green countered. "But it was a crushing defeat. The shortest fight I've ever seen. The Water Dragon was smart to hide his full strength before, and I don't think he even showed all of it now. I can't believe Water is that powerful. He stripped him of his clothes with one water cannon. Ended his career forever with that humiliation. It's a pity we'll miss the Earth Lord fight the Wind Queen tonight. After that display, the Earth Lord will probably win. The final will be between him and the Water Dragon; it'll be one of the best fights in history."
"You think the Earth Lord will win? No way. It's different this time. The Wind Queen will win, and easily. She'll humiliate the Earth Lord, too, strip him bare with the wind."
"Want to bet on it?" Green said, a familiar competitive glint in his eye.
"What are the stakes?"
"When we get back, we check the result immediately. The loser organizes the welcome home party."
I laughed. "Okay, that's the optimism I want. It's a bet. I'm definitely winning."
"We'll see."