“Do you want power…” Along the beach his hand arose, with closed eyes he heard the rumble of an ambulance. What’s going on, I was just about to… I can’t move… I was on a quest… Yes, that’s right, I was trying to catch a big fish. Am I going to die…? “Power, do you want power? Then you shall receive.” I don’t want to die!

  “His arm isn’t going to make it…” “Lidocaine…” “His pulse is fading…” “The compound fractures to his ribs are too severe…”

  Once this fight is over we will have to say farewell…

  Five months ago: “Damn it Urjo, why the fuck did you let Jaromir take your place?” A long haired youth said with rage, his foot held Urjohar’s chest to the restroom floor. “How could you?! You applying was dumb as fuck, shit! If anyone had to die it should have been you!” Tears came down the youth’s face as he walked away before beating the bloody hell out of Urjohar.

  “What about you Urjohar?” Dr. Dushyanta asked.

  “Hmm?” Urjohar replied deep in thought.

  “You were good friends with Chrysostom?”

  “Dr. Dushyanta, since Jaromir’s death, the two have been enemies,” Fester stood up to explain.

  Taiga looked displeased as he voiced shut up in his mind.

  “Hmm, I see, well then, but he hasn’t shown up in quite some time. Summer vacation is about to begin! He can’t repeat a year… The academy won’t exist anymore. It’s best for his future if he graduates from here. Are you sure none of you can convince him?” Dushyanta pleaded, his beady black eyes staring down at the class. Nautical silence.

  “Psst,” Horst nudged Otie awake. “He’s always skating by Maiyomumen.”

  “What are you saying?” Otie said with grogginess. “Eh! Why are ya’ll staring at me like that!”

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  “You wanna be the big dog in Ontiganel, if Eurig doesn’t acknowledge you, then quit that silly dream,” Horst said with closed eyes.

  “Heehee, Eurig can be quite prickly, he’s got quite the mouth,” Fester said.

  Just like you… “He could kill with just words,” Taiga added.

  “Haha, Eurig is sweet, a little rude, but harmless,” Cherry assured.

  Leaning back with a lax expression, Otie stared up at the ceiling before speaking what gave the five a jolt. “Of course, I already know that.”

  “Huh?” Horst questioned, as Urjohar’s attention directed itself to Otie’s desk. Like a black mass of authority, Dushyanta came to Otie’s declaration.

  “Perfect, then Ayihcah will be the one to bring him back.”

  Rusty railings, cracked stairs with crumbling buildings beside. Worn brick and chipped glass line the street corners. A rat scurries through filth covered land, all to inevitably run into five juveniles. A miss squeals hysterically at the gross (cute) rat. Her disdain focuses itself to her compatriots’ attention. The roll of rubber wheels clatters nearby, a boy as tall as the fourth and half cut of a lamppost with golden hair that came down his shoulders and swooped right on top of the brows. Skinny black jeans and a white tee, polished hands would distract from his skinny, but slightly muscle defined figure.

  Coming down a separate flight of stairs was Urjohar who quickly noticed the lad skating to the sound of “rat!” Kick flipping over a sew-frog straight to flick up to his hand put him on foot. He quickly strode to the group of similar juveniles. The group poked and prodded the small creature, laughing and gruesomely playing with the half dead animal with their feet and sticks alike.

  “Out of the way, peasants!”

  “Huh?” “What?” The boys confusingly addressed. “Huh, you crazy…?” The golden lad ignored them as he pushed through their huddle. “Eww, he’s grabbing it,” one girl said. “Ugh, I hope we don’t get infected.” “Fucker, hope the creep don’t eat it…”

  “Disgusting? That would be you, you cunt riding bitches. Every-time I see guys like ya, I wanna tear out my insides and vomit!”

  “What was that?” “Repeat that punk!”

  From afar Urjohar nodded silently as he quickly confirmed who it was. Yep, Eurig alright. “If someone had to die… It should have been you, Urjo. I wish you had died instead of him.”

  Eurig Chrysostom stood with teary eyes. “You don’t even get it, this rat is one-thousand times more beautiful and pure than you are! Your lives are worthless, eat shit, die, rot in hell, all of you!” Recently turned fourteen, a glowing boy more passionate than many would assume from a first glance. A subtle wind came under his chin showcasing his mole under his left eye, the ray of the sun let his large eyes sparkle with his lashes curling up as his golden curls flung back gently.