RAPPORT

Sam rolled around his bed, trying to get some sleep, but to no avail. Every time he closed his eyes, his body jolted awake as if he were falling into a pit. 'This is going nowhere,' said Sam before jumping out of his bed. He walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Although faint, he could still see the horizontal scar near his hairline. It used to be larger – not to mention, bloodier. 17 stitches – it took to close the gash, along with a few bags of blood and orthopaedic casts. That was 15 years ago, and he thought by now, his memories would have returned. But all he got was recurring nightmares and occasional throbbing on the back of his head. He turned on the faucet to wash his face, which gave him an idea of how to spend his sleepless night.

After wiping his face with a clean towel, he swiftly grabbed his sword and exited the room. Standing in the aptly named Silver Corridor, Sam looked to his left and right, expecting the hallway to be vacant. Thankfully, it was, but he could not shake the feeling that he was being watched.

'Now, that’s concerning', he muttered. Without wasting any more time, he made his way to the Rift Gate and pressed '6'.

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

As he set foot into the Training Hall, he was filled with a sense of familiarity and relief. The vast chamber was where he spent most of his time preparing for the annual Grisly Gauntlets, the infamous three-stage examination for, as Markus said to him once, aspiring warriors. Held in the Arcane Realm, it was the anticipated event of the Autumn Equinox, or as the residents called it, the Season of the Fallen. Sam always thought the name was a bit pretentious, but it was not far from the truth. He recalled it well - every minute was saturated with the participants’ agonizing scream; a field of black calla lilies soaked in the contestants’ blood. Miraculously, despite the brutal nature of the trial, there was not a single casualty recorded.

Sam placed his sword on the designated rack and casually walked toward the middle of the room. There, a white pedestal stood still like a sentinel, quietly observing every visitor to the chamber.

“Edelweiss, Samuel.”

“Voice recognition approved,” the pedestal replied with a female robotic voice. “Good evening, Mr. Edelweiss. It has been a while since we last spoke.”

“It’s good to hear from you again, Merah. Three years, isn’t it?”

“And 14 days, sir. Congratulations on passing your Apprenticeship, sir. Your status has been updated from Apprentice to Candidate six hours ago.”

“Thank you, Merah. Would you be so kind as to provide me with a punching bag? Also, throw in a pair of gloves and some wraps.”

“Your request is noted. Will you be expecting some company?”

“No. It’s only me tonight. Are the security cameras functioning? They look…off.”

The voice went silent for a moment before it returned, replying to his question, “My apologies, sir. It seems the cameras are currently unavailable. Sending reports to Command Center.”

The pedestal then split open, bringing forth two red boxing gloves and a roll of white hand tape. As Sam took the items, the floor behind him parted, and a black punching bag rose from the narrow space.

“Thank you, Merah. I’ll let you know if I need anything else,” said Sam before covering both knuckles with the tape. Putting on the gloves, he began throwing his fists at the standing punching bag. The sounds of his fists connecting with the leather, along with his breathing, echoed throughout the empty hall.

Then, he began to hear something else – footsteps, and they were heading his way. Strangely, it sounded like multiple people instead of one, and they were light as if…

The main door swung open, and he was expecting someone taller…and older. Instead, it was a group of three children – two boys and one girl who were supposed to be in their beds.

“Oh, crap,” one of the boys uttered, his blond hair partially covering his blue eyes.

“You are not supposed to be here, especially at this late hour,” said Sam.

The children looked at each other. None of them spoke a word, but their panicked expressions were glaringly obvious.

Sam slowly removed his gloves before placing them on the pedestal. “Luckily for you kids, I am not officially a Faceless. However, I still have the obligation to report any misdemeanours.”

“Please, sir,” the second boy with a grey beanie hat, timidly came forward. “It’s…it’s my idea. I’m the one who wanted to see the Training Hall.”

Sam peered into the boy’s trembling eyes before shaking his head. “A valiant effort, I must say – covering for your friends. What are your names, young warriors? So I can take note of your bravery.”

“Evan Pelargo,” the blonde boy responded.

“Arthur Vandula,” said the boy in the beanie hat.

Lastly, the girl with the short, milky white hair came between the boys and replied, “Lysandra, sir. Lysandra Rhinum.”

“Your hair is quite…unique, Miss Rhinum. Are you in any way related to Valerie Rivea?” Sam asked.

“She is my aunt, sir.”

“And you’re Samuel Edelweiss, the Troll-Slayer,” Evan spouted, his eyes lit up in excitement.

“The Troll-Slayer?” Sam stared at the boy, confused.

“Yeah. You’re the one who went up against the Troll, Jack Cindar,” said Evan before Lysandra elbowed him in the chest.

Sam let out a short laugh, but quickly regained his composure. “I admit, it’s a cool title, but it’s not something you should say out loud. Not everyone shares your sense of humor.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling him,” Lysandra retorted, both hands on her waist.

“Well, you guys better be off before someone else finds you,” said Sam.

“You’re not going to report us?” Arthur inquired.

“As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing to report because this conversation never happened in the first place.” Sam then turned around, trying to reach for his gloves until he felt a tug at his shirt. Even without looking, he could sense the children staring intently at him. “You’re not leaving, are you?” Sam sighed.

“We will after we’re done checking out the Training Hall,” said Evan. “And because we’re not permitted to snoop around without adult supervision, we like you to assume that role. It is, after all, a part of your obligation, right?”

Crafty little kids, Sam thought. “You are far too clever for your own good, you know? Very well, but there will be no more compromise afterwards. I'll show you around, and you’ll return to your living quarters. Agree?”

“Agree.”

Sam offered his hand, a gesture that confused Evan.

“A deal between two honourable warriors is sacred and must be sealed with a handshake. Well?”

Although initially hesitant, Evan eventually shook Sam’s hand.

“Smart lad. Now, where do you want to start?” As soon as Sam finished his question, the children gathered together, discussing inaudibly in front of him. Funnily enough, their behaviour reminded him of his own interaction with the siblings. “I guess some things never change.”

After nearly three minutes, the children broke up with Evan initiating the conversation. “This part of the room, what is it for?”

“General training. See the mat you’re stepping on?” Sam pointed at the green tiling beneath his feet. “This rectangular floor is divided into four quadrants – each one can be used for four different purposes at the same time. You can box with the punching bag, practice with a training dummy, do some weight lifting, or, if you want to challenge yourself, you can spar with each other.”

“I’m guessing that’s Merah, then? The Training Hall Caretaker?” Lysandra asked, pointing at the pedestal.

“It is indeed, Miss Rhinum. Created by our own group of researchers through decades of trials and errors, an artificial intelligence with humanity’s empathy and curiosity. It’s not as advanced as the one from the Wicked Age, but it’s good enough for us – no offense, Merah.”

“None taken, sir,” Merah responded, causing the children to shudder.

“Her sister, Putih, is somewhere inside the Tower. Who knows her exact location?”

Arthur raised his hand and answered, “She’s in the Command Center.”

“Correct, Mr. Vandula. Even though there are some similarities in their code structures, the Council of Eight finds Putih more suitable for real-world application. But that does not mean one is inferior to the other. If I were you, I would abstain from saying anything that could upset the sisters.”

“Someone really did it? Upsetting the sisters?” Evan asked.

“I heard about that,” Lysandra interjected. “If I’m not mistaken, the culprits were locked inside their rooms for hours, and by the time they got out, they were sweating like crazy, and their faces were as rosy as a cherry.”

“And it seems they got the message as they never repeat the same mistake ever again,” Sam added. “So, any more requests?”

Arthur raised his hand again before pointing his finger across the room, directly at the lone red door.

“The Acclimatization and Rehabilitation Room?” said Sam. “I don’t think there’s anything new I can tell you. It is, after all, one of the first things you learned back in the Cradle.”

“Learning and seeing it in person are two different things,” Arthur responded.

“I agree, Mr. Vandula, but unfortunately, only the official member of the Order is allowed to go inside. We, technically, are outsiders. But, as you are already aware, it is used to prepare the Faceless for extreme environments, along with providing physiotherapies to the wounded. I know what you’re going to say – that we are more resilient than a normal human. That part is indeed true, but never forget that we are still flesh and bones.”

As soon as Sam finished his sentence, he realized the young trio was staring at him expectantly. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing. It’s just…,” Arthur paused, shifting uncomfortably in his spot.

It was Lysandra who came to the rescue by speaking on his behalf. “What Artie meant to say was that you are very different from how we imagined you.”

“We? Who is this ‘we’?”

“The others in the Cradle. They called you names – mean, horrible names. Some of us didn’t believe it, of course, but it spreads like wildfire. Before we even realized, they were making stories about you being evil incarnate or the devil in the flesh.”

Sam could not help but chuckle, finding the story entertaining. “Well, at least their imagination is still working.”

“Does it ever bother you, sir? The names they called you?” Arthur inquired.

“They used to, but I quickly learned that words can only control you if you allow them to.”

“How insightful,” said a familiar disembodied voice.

All of a sudden, the front door burst open, and a thick black cloud rushed into the room. Sam immediately pushed the children out of the way, seconds before the acrid smog enveloped him. The effect was instant – his eyes and throat were burning; his skin felt dry as if all the moisture had been sucked out of it. Then, a pair of hands shot out of the smoke, grabbing him by the neck.

“Don’t resist, Edelweiss. Breathe it all in.”

“You wish,” said Sam before snapping his finger, creating a bright, orange flash. He heard Cindar’s scream, followed by the smoke retreating toward the entrance. Sam wiped the tears in his eyes, and the first thing that came into his mind was the trio. He looked around, noticing the trio was pushing themselves against a corner of the hall.

“Evan, Lysandra, Arthur! Are you alright?” Sam cried out.

“We’re fine!” Evan responded; his voice was shaky.

“Just stay there until I say otherwise!” Sam ordered before dashing to his sword. The moment his hand touched the katana, the giant smoke returned. It swirled around near the pedestal, waiting patiently.

“Are you out of your mind, Cindar? This frivolity will cost you greatly,” Sam warned.

“No, it will cost you,” Cindar countered. “Samuel Edelweiss, the pariah of the Faceless Order, the evil incarnate, went mad and attacked three curious children. It was Jack Cindar who put an end to the dreaded monster, but unfortunately, the three children succumbed to their injuries.”

“I stand corrected, you are out of your mind,” said Sam, furrowing his eyebrows. “So, the cameras were you doing then? Figures.”

Sam drew his katana; his eyes remained focused on the undulating black cloud. “If it is a fight you want, then it is a fight you shall get.”