'Ugh.'
A tired groan rang out. The source of the noise - a human covered in blankets - tentatively peeked their eyes open. Finding that the curtains were shielding a large solar flare, the boy knew it was time to get up.
'Come on. Five more minutes.'
Nico yawned. The innate laziness of the teenager within him whispered in his ears, enticing him to close his eyes and get some more rest. However, as soon as the young man realised what day it was, he shot up out of bed. His hair looked like a bird's nest.
Scanning the room quickly, Nico spotted the clothes that he had left out the night before lying on his desk. Picking up the bundle of fabric, the brown-haired boy walked toward his mirror. The wooden floor sent a chill through the soles of his bare feet.
He stared at his reflection. Slightly tall, with brown hair, brown eyes, and thin eyebrows. A face that was neither angular nor soft. He wasn't handsome, nor was he particularly ugly. Nico's looks were bang on average.
The only thing that ruined his unassuming visage was the fiery birthmark on his temple.
Not only did it make him stand out because of its weird colour, but it was the also reason for his skinnier frame - the consensus made by the many doctors he had visited and his mother, an experienced Descender.
They hypothesized it siphoned off energy and nutrients, which should have gone towards his growth and development… instead, it was used for something else. They couldn't understand why or for what purpose, though.
Shaking his head, Nico got dressed. He wore a black compression shirt with loose black pants.
Once he had finished getting dressed, he picked up his pack from the floor - which was stuffed with the supplies he needed for the Training Camp.
Shifting his gaze around his room, the place that was his haven throughout his childhood, Nico immersed himself in his memories.
This was the place where he sought refuge from the difficulties of life as a child. Now sixteen, the boy knew that the time he spent with his humble abode was coming to a close.
A single bed. A wardrobe with all his clothing. A desk with papers a few years old strewn over it, alongside a pile of books with the symbol of a knight engraved on their surface. These items combined to form the place in which he had spent the most amount of time, throughout his life.
Releasing a sigh full of melancholy, Nico headed for the door with his pack slung over his shoulder. It was time to freshen up before he had breakfast and bade his family goodbye.
***
Walking down the stairs after freshening up, a wide living room containing leather sofas and a large broadcast mounted on the wall came into view. Next to the broad screen, a canvas captured Nico's attention.
Drawn onto its surface, five figures huddled together with slight smiles on their faces. Behind them, a shimmering iridescent portal writhed chaotically. The blue skies were dark and gloomy, with little droplets of rain falling and making their presence known.
Arcs of lightning streaked across the sky full of wrath and power.
Adorned with plate armour that covered their bodies, Nico's gaze converged on the figure in the middle. A lady with flowing silver hair. The same colour as her armour.
Her vibrant green eyes shone brightly. One hand on the green scabbard attached to her hip.
'The Battle of Sreb.'
Nico's eyes hardened for a moment before he sighed and shifted his gaze. There was no need to think about that disaster.
To the right, a mouthwatering aroma spread from the kitchen as the noise of sizzling food rang out.
The brown-haired boy inhaled deeply, savouring the scent of the delicious food. His stomach rumbled silently.
Sparing a passing glance to the left side of the room, Nico noted that someone - probably his mother - had drawn the crimson curtains back, allowing small specks of orange light to infiltrate and illuminate the house.
Entering the sitting room and placing his pack to the side, a feminine voice streamed into his ears.
"Hey, kid. Pass me the remote, would ya?"
Turning his head, Nico found a female slumped on the sofa, relaxing her body to the extreme. Her ginger hair cascaded down her shoulders. Her caramel brown eyes and the small, little freckles on the bridge of her nose and cheeks gave her a unique appearance.
"Yes, Aunt Beverly."
The boy sighed. He had become used to the female's laziness. Handing over the remote, the young man watched her flick through the channels before stopping a few seconds later. The screen displayed news on the latest technological creation by the Dwarves.
The presenter on the broadcast mentioned a plethora of complicated terms. However, Nico felt as if he had got the gist of it.
A long-range communication device as a bracelet, which worked through the use of holograms, was the latest technological advancement the Dwarves had created. With, the help of human artificers who incorporated Magitech into the design.
Based on Nico's understanding, this model was better than all the previous versions, as it had unlimited reach. No matter the distance, you could communicate with anyone from anywhere inside Crelerath.
Which was especially handy if a Dungeon break occurred… or a natural rift in reality opened heralding dozens of bloodthirsty abominations. Word could spread instantly, alerting nearby reinforcements of the conflict.
It operated by using the ambient mana in the surroundings as an energy source saving its wielder from having to use their own, personal mana pool.
Marvelling at the Dwarves' natural flair for creation, Nico travelled to the kitchen following the appetizing smell. Once inside, he watched as his mother and her little sous chef - who both wore aprons, one big, the other small - scrambled inside the space, preparing all his favourite dishes.
A warm feeling bloomed in his chest, pushing aside the dull ache that followed him wherever he went.
"Good morning, Mom!"
Cynthia, who was busy flipping a pancake, replied warmly.
"Good morning, honey. Could you hand me the plate on the counter, please?"
Walking up to the counter, Nico passed the plate to his mother as he got a closer look at her features. Slender, with silver hair tied in a ponytail and bright, emerald green eyes. The boy admired his mother's natural beauty.
Beside her, the carbon copy of her mother, Charlotte - his little sister - gazed at the batch of food in front of her with sparkling eyes.
"Hey, Mom. Do you know where Dad is?" Nico suppressed a chuckle as he continued to watch his little sister drool at the sight of cake and fresh pastries.
"Hmm… if he's not in the sitting room. Your father is probably sitting outside in his chair." The boy noticed his mother's eyes dim for a moment. A hint of sorrow in their depths.
The brown-haired boy thanked his parent, ruffled his sibling's hair a little - an action which caused her to pout at being treated like a small child - and left the kitchen.
Back in the living room, Nico walked up to a sliding set of wooden doors that led to the back of the house - found at the far end of the living room to the left - and opened them.
Silently, he crept along the wooden floorboards until he found what he was looking for.
Right beside the steps that led to the lawn, on an old rocking chair, a man sat with a pained expression. Every so often, a violent cough would escape his throat. His back hunched forwards, and he constantly shifted his body, trying to find a comfortable position, to no avail.
Another violent cough racked the man's body. Nico tried to hold back his tears. No matter how many times he saw this sight, it never got easier.
"Dad…" Nico whispered, alerting his father to his presence.
"Oh, Nico. It's good that you're here. Can you pass me my meds and the glass of water on the table over there?" With his back facing his son, Ross hid his grimace as he opened his hands awaiting the pills and the glass.
Getting his emotions under control, the boy quickly retrieved his father's medicine and placed it in his palm.
Muttering some words of thanks, Ross hurriedly gulped the painkillers down. He felt a cool sensation spread throughout his body, easing some of the pain. The man turned his head and sighed.
In front of him, nature stood in all its splendor. The trees swayed peacefully. The leaves rustled quietly, emitting a calming melody that soothed the soul. Birds chirped cheerfully to each other.
The rising sun bathed the landscape in an orange glow.
Ross inhaled a deep breath full of crisp, clean air. He winced as the irritating pain he experienced daily flared up again. Exhaling, the man closed his eyes, basking in nature's peace. He came here every morning to escape the dark thoughts that plagued his mind.
"You ready for the Training Camp, Son?" Ross sighed, turning to face his child. A large well of pride appeared in his brown eyes.
"Yeah, I'm as ready as I'll ever be… although to be honest, I'm feeling more nervous now. Why does it have to be a few hours away?" Nico mumbled the last part to himself. He wasn't keen on living apart from his family for a month.
The man in the chair chuckled, amused by his son. Taking another breath, his face soon turned serious.
"Nico, I want you to promise me something…" Gazing into his father's eyes, the brown-haired boy's face turned serious as well. He rarely saw his old man make that kind of expression.
"Nico, promise me that no matter what happens in the Training Camp you'll give it your all. Remember the three R's. Respect, Responsibility, and Reflection. Even if the Instructor abandons you and treats you like trash, I want you to work harder than the rest of your peers. Strengthen your body to the greatest degree possible so that no complications arise when you form a core. Unlike me…" Ross muttered under his breath.
"I promise to work extra hard, Dad." Nico, unable to bear seeing his father look so down, hurriedly promised. Seeing his father's face light up with a smile, the boy swore to himself to make him and the rest of his family proud.
"Boys! Breakfast's ready!"
Hearing Cynthia's shout, both males smiled.
"Alright, enough of such a depressing topic. Now, help your old man up." Ross groaned as his son slowly helped him get up.
Placing his hand on the young man's shoulder, the crippled man smiled and winked. "Come on. I can't wait to feast on your mother's pancakes. I hear they're pretty good."