Chapter 73 – Excellence Camp – Outcast I

Ashern City - Rose Garden Dormitory, 23rd of Brightforge, year 315 UC

Bryan sat on the edge of the bed, head low, white hair falling forward to obscure his vision. He stared at his hands, watching as they trembled slightly against his will.

'Did I even make it home yesterday?'

The memories blurred—Farrah in the city square, her concern, the walk back to the academy. But then what? Had any of it been real?

His hand shook more violently at the thought, and he clenched it into a fist, pressing it against his thigh to stop the trembling.

"Are you ready to talk now?"

The small black mouse sat on the opposite edge of the bed, purple eyes fixed on him. Zoltan's voice appeared in his mind, clear and sardonic as always.

Bryan remained silent. Was this the real Zoltan? Or just another hallucination? Like the copies he'd seen last night—dozens of identical mice with purple eyes, all speaking with the same voice, overlapping until the noise became unbearable.

He exhaled slowly.

'Focus on what you know is real.'

"You seem to be suffering from something."

Zoltan observed, his tiny head tilting to one side.

"But I can't tell what it is."

Bryan lifted his gaze from the floor.

"Who is Lucas?"

Bryan asked.

"What?"

Zoltan's ears twitched.

"Where did you hear that name from?"

"It doesn't matter."

Bryan replied.

"But you're not denying you know him."

"I'm not denying anything."

Zoltan countered, moving closer across the rumpled bedsheets.

"But it's important to know where your information came from."

"So you do know him."

Bryan's fingers curled into the fabric of his pants.

"Emilia."

He pressed further, leaning slightly toward the mouse.

"Who is she?"

Zoltan's purple eyes narrowed.

"If you know their names, then surely you must know who they are."

"Is she my mother?"

The question emerged barely above a whisper. Zoltan didn't move, didn't respond for a solid minute.

Then, without warning, the mouse began to laugh—a sound that manifested directly in his mind rather than in the air between them. Zoltan's small body convulsed with mirth, tumbling off the edge of the bed onto the floor below.

"Is something funny?"

Bryan’s voice hardened as Zoltan scrambled back up.

"Ah, so you don't know."

Zoltan said, climbing back onto the bed with surprising agility for such a small creature.

The response only deepened his frustration.

"Don't know what?"

Bryan demanded, rising to his feet. The sudden movement sent a wave of dizziness through him, forcing him to brace one hand against the wall for support.

Zoltan watched.

"Your memory issues are concerning."

The mouse said instead.

"Have you considered seeing the academy doctor?"

"Stop deflecting."

He took a step toward the small creature.

"You know something about Lucas and Emilia. You know who they are to me."

"I know many things."

Zoltan replied.

"The question is, what do you know? And more importantly, how did you learn it?"

He ran a hand through his white hair.

"Gloria mentioned Emilia Valentine. And I found out about Lucas through research."

"Gloria Reinhart?"

Zoltan's ears perked up, his small body tensing visibly.

"When did she speak to you about Emilia?"

"The night before the fights at the duel hall. She came to my room, asked me questions about my identity."

"Interesting."

Zoltan mused, thoughtful.

"You still haven't answered my question."

He pressed.

"Is Emilia my mother?"

Zoltan's laughter returned, though more subdued this time.

"No, Bryan. Emilia Valentine is not your mother."

The denial brought both relief and disappointment—relief that he'd finally received a direct answer, disappointment that it closed one possible path to understanding his past.

"Then who is she to me?"

He asked, sitting back down on the bed.

"Why does her name feel familiar?"

"Perhaps because you've heard it before."

Zoltan suggested.

"Memory is a complex thing."

"And Lucas?"

Bryan pressed.

"What do you think?"

Zoltan countered.

Bryan closed his eyes, searching for connections, for anything that might make sense of these fragments. Lucas Valentine, married to Emilia. A researcher who studied history but somehow created the M.A.G.I.C. orb. A man who talked to a raven with purple eyes.

His eyes snapped open.

"You were with him. The raven with purple eyes—that was you."

Zoltan didn't deny it.

"You're more clever than they give you credit for."

The mouse said finally.

"Who are 'they'?"

He demanded, seizing on the slip.

"The ones who shaped you."

Zoltan replied.

"The ones who took what was and made what is."

***

Ashern City - Veiled Forest, 25th of Brightforge, year 315 UC

A twelve-foot metal fence loomed around the perimeter of the Veiled Forest. Above it shimmered a transparent magical dome.

Bryan scanned the area, noting the large metal door that seemed to be the only entrance. Small blue lights pulsed along the frame.

"Anyone else nervous?"

Sabrina asked, though her eyes were fixed on Alexander.

Alexander gave a weak laugh.

"A little."

Christopher slapped him lightly on the back.

"You shouldn’t be. Not with Hydro Stream in your arsenal."

A blush crept across Alexander's cheeks as he looked down at his boots.

"It's not that impressive."

"Dude, yes it is."

Christopher grinned.

"A powerful spell like that? You’re crazy lucky."

Hydro Stream was decent for a normal mage, but not for Alexander. Not with his current condition.

Byran's mind drifted back to yesterday when Alexander had returned to attend class. His control hadn't improved—if anything, it had deteriorated further. Whatever substance he was taking had severely compromised his ether control to the point where he could barely maintain his water bubble spell.

It had been obvious in the way Alexander seemed to force himself to use his magic—his body tensing, the muscles on his neck bulging with effort, and the poor attempt to play it off as normal. Christopher and Sabrina might have bought the act, but Farrah certainly hadn't.

What he knew for certain was that Alexander couldn't use Hydro Stream at all.

Alexander had admitted as much after morning training, pulling him aside to ask if he knew why or if he thought it would change.

Bryan didn't know the exact reason, but he had theories. Alexander's control was below the threshold needed to use it on demand, and his ether reserves were likely depleted as well. Those were the two most probable explanations.

He had suggested Alexander speak with one of the instructors who could provide a better answer, but Alexander had refused. He didn't want to talk to them, not after whatever "discussion" he'd had with Gloria that day. He'd called it embarrassing and said he wasn't ready yet.

Bryan hadn't pushed the matter further. If Alexander wanted to let embarrassment stop him from solving his problem, that was his choice. What he couldn't understand was why the academy was postponing Alexander's punishment. When asked about it, Alexander had said it was still being decided, and he would receive formal notice by the end of the camp.

"Anything you want to say before we enter?"

Farrah asked, snapping him from his thoughts.

"Not really."

Bryan replied, adjusting the strap of his pack.

"As captain, you should give them something."

Farrah said, her green eyes meeting his directly.

With a light push of her finger, she nudged him forward. He didn't move, but the gesture was clear enough.

"You got this, Snowflake."

She whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

He sighed internally at the nickname but turned to address the group.

"Everyone, listen up."

The others turned to face him.

"We're entering with no oversight from the instructors, so we're on our own. First goal—find a good camp location."

A light breeze rustled the leaves beyond the fence.

"We’ll deal with monsters if we must, but don’t go looking for a fight. Priority is surviving three days. That’s our main objective."

Bryan continued, meeting each teammate's eyes in turn.

"OWe’ll do night shifts—two hours each. Alexander, then Sabrina, then me, Christopher, and Farrah. Miss a shift? You’re first up the next night."

He paused, scanning their faces for any signs of confusion or disagreement.

"Any questions on that?"

When no one spoke, he nodded once and continued.

"Christopher and Sabrina made a list of all the monsters that were discussed during class, which may appear here since the Veiled Forest is man-made.I made a list of others—less certain, but possible. I also copied a map. Farrah’s in charge of edible flora and will scout ahead when needed.”

He added as Farrah adjusted her hair, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

"Not bad, Blackwood, but you forgot about Silvermark over there and his role."

Alan's voice came from behind him.

He turned to see the instructor standing there, his presence completely undetected until now. From the surprised looks on his teammates' faces, they hadn't noticed him either.

"I didn't forget."

Bryan replied.

"It's just that everything else was taken care of."

Alan's lips twitched, not quite forming a smile.

"Very well. You're the captain, so you can make the choices, but all the choices and their outcomes will be on you."

He took a step forward.

"Now listen up. It's been some time since we were all together like this without the other students around, but this is not a game. Take it seriously."

He gestured toward the forest.

"The Veiled Forest is broken down into four sections: the outer, middle, inner, and center. Each section increases the difficulty of surviving, and you should not test yourselves beyond what you're capable of doing."

Alan's hands moved to his hips as he continued.

"Now, surviving for three days is the only condition for passing the trial, but you'll be graded on various actions you take, such as where you build your shelter and what kind of defenses or fortifications you add to it."

"These points are put into two categories: team and individual."

Alan explained.

"As a team, you'll earn points for everything you do together, but if Christopher is the one breaking down trees and creating a barrier to the camp, then he'll be the one receiving individual points."

Christopher straightened slightly at the mention of his name.

"Individual points are based on your own contribution to the team's overall success. These points can also be earned by gathering cores from dead monsters."

"Every monster core is worth points. At the end of the trial, the top three individuals with the most will earn a full-day private training session with an instructor of their choice—me, Lock, Gloria, or Silivia."

Interest flickered across his teammates' faces at this announcement.

“First place chooses first. If they pick Gloria, second place chooses from the remaining three, and so on.”

Alan's eyes narrowed slightly.

"I suggest picking someone who will benefit you more than choosing based on who you think is nice or cool or whatever else you might be thinking."

"As for the remaining seventeen students who don't get this individual training, they'll spend an entire day of combat duels under the remaining instructor."

Alan's voice remained steady as he continued.

"That covers individual rewards. For team rewards, the best team earns 5,000 academic credits, then 2,500 for second, 500 for third, and nothing for the team in last place."

He held up his hand, palm out.

"That’s per person. Not split."

Alan took a step closer to the group.

"Now, while an entire day with an instructor for private training is nice, you're also able to purchase a training session for three hours. These will cost academic credits, and the price will fluctuate based on who the instructor is and their availability."

His expression softened slightly.

"Don't kill yourselves trying to figure out the best way to gain points. The official term is just around the corner, and more instructors will be here to help the influx of students."

Alan's voice took on an encouraging tone.

"You're already ahead of the majority of the other students, so try to gain an advantage and use your academic credits wisely."

Farrah raised her hand.

"Go ahead."

Alan nodded toward her.

"If you won't be around, how will you know how many points our teams are given?"

She asked.

"There are monitoring devices placed throughout the forest that give us feedback. No actual instructors will be inside the forest unless there's an emergency."

Alan replied before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny black crystal.

"This is a beacon."

Alan held it up for all to see.

"Crush it, and a light will shine into the sky alerting us. Someone will come to rescue you. If this beacon is activated, you'll be disqualified."

Christopher frowned.

"As a team?"

"No, just the person whose beacon it is."

Alan clarified.

"What if someone else crushes your beacon?"

Farrah asked.

"Then that is your problem. Do not let anyone crush your beacon because that will still mean you—the person whose beacon it is—are disqualified."

Bryan could see multiple different ways this could play out, but he wanted to be certain what was being implied.

"So that means we can hunt down other teams and disqualify them?"

Alan's lips curved into a small smile.

"That is precisely the point. Competition between teams is encouraged."

The instructor looked around at the group.

"Any more questions?"

"What gate is this?"

Bryan asked, gesturing toward the metal door.

"East gate."

Alan replied.

When no one else raised a hand, Alan nodded.

"If not, then line up and be ready to enter in five minutes."

Bryan turned to look at his team.

"This changes things slightly."

Christopher shook his head.

"Top three’s out of reach for me. I’m not trying for it."

"It's not worth it for us."

Bryan agreed.

“But we should hunt for team points—and the combat experience won’t hurt."

Farrah nodded.

"Even if we can't reach the top spot, we should at least aim for second place in teams. Ideally, first rank would be good."

"I'm not thinking of anything less than first place."

Bryan stated.

He looked toward the forest beyond the fence.

"The further we are from the center, the less likely we are to encounter any of the other teams."

Sabrina frowned as she turned to face him.

"Isn't that something we want to avoid?"

"No. The more teams we eliminate, the better."

Bryan answered.

"But it's like you said, we probably won't encounter anyone until we reach the inner section or something."

Christopher said.

"Unless they run straight for the enemy."

Bryan pointed out.

Alexander's eyes widened.

"Wait. You think someone would just run through the forest?"

"We're at the east gate."

Bryan explained.

"Which means there are likely north, south, and west gates too."

Sabrina nodded slowly.

"One gate for each team."

"And if we know our starting position, then directly across from us would be the team entering from the west gate."

Bryan added.

"That means crossing a vast distance, but if they were to go north or south, it would be easier and they could maneuver through the outer section." He concluded.

Farrah's brow furrowed at his explanation.

"It's risky."

"It is."

He agreed.

"And I have no plans on doing so."

Sabrina crossed her arms.

"Then why'd you bring it up?"

"Do you think the others would be thinking the same thing?"

Christopher asked.

"It's a possibility."

Bryan replied.

"So we shouldn't stay in the outer section long and should head directly for the center, or get as close to it as possible."

He held up two fingers.

"Two reasons: one, to avoid anyone else that might be searching for us, and two, to hunt down monsters and gain points early on."

As Bryan looked over his team, he caught Alexander's eye. The boy was scratching the back of his head.

"The problem with that is we don't know what's out there, and the other teams could be doing the exact same thing."

Farrah sighed.

"We can't really tell what the others would do. It's too early for that."

"You've got five seconds!"

Alan called out to them.

Bryan looked up to see the large metal gate starting to open.

The option to rush forward, leaving the others behind, was tempting, and he wanted to do it. But he held the urge back, the instructors would probably deduct points from him for doing that.