Limping down a hall, Ragnarok took a right turn. He dragged open a small doggy door and pulled something out by his teeth. A book and pen fell to the floor as he let them drop. It fell open to a blank page and he picked up the pen in his mouth.
Sitting down, he began to write. 'Thursday, February 15, 105.'
With a drool creeping down the pen, Ragnarok began to quickly scribble away. 'Today, I found out I was asleep for three days. They told the master that I was too hurt to walk, but I knew they were lying. They've never appreciated how kind my master is. I don't think they like me either. They blame me for my master's laziness, saying if I wasn't around, my master would be working more.'
Ragnarok's drool dripped onto the page. 'I'm sad that they think that. Sometimes it makes me feel that I'm more of a hindrance than a guard to master. It makes my chest claw at itself, and I want to tear it out. I don't know how long I can keep letting them talk bad about master before I snap and get master in trouble.'
The puppy flipped the page. 'I don't know how long I can keep track of this journal, either. It seems like, every day, I am coming closer and closer to being found out. I wish I could keep writing, though. It's relaxing (I think the master calls the word "Therapeutic").'
As Ragnarok was about to finish writing, a noise went crashing through the twists and turns of the hall, making him throw the book and pen away. "Rag! Where'd you go?!"
The dog sighed before barking and taking off towards Bran, its tail wagging.
***
Bran looked down the hall, seeing a brown blur shoot towards him. It was like a bullet penetrating past the air, jumping into the boy's arms. "There you are, Rag! I was looking all over for you."
The dog barked up at his owner and jumped down from his hold. A small burst of wind blasted from further within the corridor, making him land awkwardly. A small yelp left his mouth as Bran rushed to pick him up.
Bran, with piercing sharp eyes, glared into the dark, shadowed hall. "Sylfia."
A tan woman, wearing a white, intricate dress, strutted out of the shadows, waving her hips. A strand of ocean blue hair fell into her red, piercing eyes as she let loose a demented grin. "Oh my goodness! I'm so, so sorry Bran. I was practicing my magic inside and pelted your mutt."
Bran's face turned stone cold as a cold feeling took over his body. His eyes constricted like that of a snake as an icy cold aura blasted from him. "You should be more careful…" Bran's heart blasted like a steam engine.
Sylfia's face fell as a white, eloquent magic circle appeared behind her. "Are you telling me what to do, Astoric?"
Bran snarled. "I don't know, Sekrcia, am I?"
Sylfia Sekrcia let loose another blast of wind, pushing Bran back a couple of meters. "I think you should watch your tonnage with me, Impuren Basedus."
Bran let loose his surge of icy wind. "That's ironic, considering your bloodline is the most diluted out of all the dukes.
Sylfia snarled while a magic circle crafted behind her. "How dare you call me impure! I hail from the greatest of all dukes: The Sekrcia!"
Bran scoffed. "Please, we all know your mother shared a room with various stable boys. I wonder which one of them is your real father?"
A large, sharp blade of wind flung at Bran as a grotesque, repulsive laugh built in her throat, coming out as a deep, rumbling, demonic laugh. "You think you can make fun of me, Basedus?! This is your end!"
Bran's circle materialized behind him, crafted with light blue lines that spoke of great refinement. "Bring it on, fylia merekticis!"
[Magic Circle(Ice) Lvl. 3]
At the last second, a thick, sharp needle of ice shot from the circle's remains and destroyed the sharp gust of wind. The walls and floor turned to ice as the remnants of the wind clashed with them. The air turned a glacial white, causing both the teen's breath to vaporize.
Sylfia's demented grin turned pitiful as she fell to the ground, banging her knee on the tile. The ice needle, still headed towards her, stopped mid-air as a pale man, 3 years older than Bran, stepped into the walkway. His slicked-back blond hair shone with a golden aura as his previously green eyes turned white. "Ugh, an Impuren Astoric like you dares attack my sister? What gives your disgusting bloodline the right to exist near us, Sekrcia?"
Bran's eyes became murderous as he unsheathed a silver ornamental blade. Its edge grew a light blue color as he pointed the tip toward the blond man. "Grian, your sister attacked me first, and now, you're taking her side in the matter. Can I take this as a threight on the Astoric family name?"
Grian raised his nose, his eyes piercing down on Bran. "Ha, you talk a big game, impuren, but you hold no right to challenge me, the next head of the Sekrcia family."
Bran chuckled. "I may not hold any right, but I can always challenge your sister to Trahenthium Pugra."
Grian's face tilted to the side. "Hmph, you can try, but I know just how little you've trained. I know, up until recently, you've not touched a sword your whole life, so do tell me, why should I be scared?"
Bran's face lit up. "I may have only picked up swordsmanship recently, but you have no clue how much work I've put in magic. You can probably tell by my magic circle, that if I was awakened, I would most likely be at least a level three in Magic Circles."
Grian scoffed. "You act like my sister is any worse. You know what, I do hope you invoke a Trahenthium Pugra. Then, I can see you groveling beneath her feet."
Bran laughed. "Fine, I challenge her, then. In two weeks, the Astoric family will hold the trial." Bran's eyes twisted to Sylfia. "I hope you prepare well; I don't want this to be too easy."
Sylfia turned to her brother. "UGH, why do you always make me battle? It's unbefitting of a lady of my stature!"
Bran walked away, leaving the two siblings to squabble. "I will beat you this time, Sylfia."
***
Winston stood atop Bran as he stared down at him. "So, let me get this straight. Your moronic pride made you challenge someone to a Trahenthium Pugra which, by my understanding, is a combat competition to bring up the rankings of the dukes? Why in the Gods' names would you do that?! How idiotic can one person be?"
Bran, out of breath, lay on the ground. "I am confident in my abilities to win. Don't worry, I wouldn't have challenged her if I expected to lose."
Winston sighed. "This is why I call you idiotic. You haven't even undergone your awakening, yet you act like you can take on the world."
Bran pushed himself to his feet, Rag barking behind him. "What is up with you constantly calling me a moron? You act like I have no brain cells."
Winston stared blankly at Bran. "Because you act like you don't. You constantly overestimate yourself and have what feels like a superiority complex for no reason. Honestly, I think you're missing a chromosome."
Bran clicked his teeth. "I do not."
Winston raised his eyebrow. "Oh yeah, then why do you constantly try and act like you can compare to me in combat? Why do you try and say demeaning things to your betters? Why do you have this "woe is me" attitude?"
Bran stayed silent under Winston's berating. He could feel a small clench in his chest begin to rise and his stomach curl. His smile fell as a small seed of inadequacy rose in his chest.
Winston set his wooden sword on the rack. "Look, all I'm saying is, you keep acting like you're better than everyone else, yet when someone says something you don't like, you act like the world's against you. It's annoying, and if you can't get it under control, everyone's going to hate you."
Bran's eyebrows clenched. "Like you're any better? You seem to have a God complex about your "geniuses". If anyone's overhyping themselves, it's you."
Winston rolled his eyes. "It's not called "having a God-complex"; it's called knowing my worth. I know I'm absolutely amazing at sword fighting. I learn at an accelerated rate and can contort my body better than most out there, but I know, when it comes to magic, I'm at the bottom of the barrel. I'm not being overconfident like you."
Bran scowled, unable to refute the argument. "Anyways, this is the third time this week that you've stopped by. It feels like you live here."
The boy, with a serious tone, smiled. "I do."
Bran blinked. "Enough with your jokes, I don't think anyone finds them funny."
Winston's smile turned into a grin. "I'm not joking. You see, after the incident three days ago, your father told me, " his voice mimicked that of Bran's father's. "Due to my son's ineptness and making a scene, I invite you to live in a guest room until the academy starts!"
Bran snarled. "My ineptness?! How dare he try and pawn off what he started on me!"
Winston sighed. "This is what I was talking about earlier. Your "woe is me" attitude, it's annoying."
Bran glared at Winston. "Shut up, you act like you're any better."
Winston stared straight into Bran's eyes. "I am."
Before the boys could finish arguing, a girl's voice interrupted. "Can y'all hush? I'm trying to sun tan!"
Bran turned abruptly. "When did you get here?!"
Kara pulled down a pair of sunglasses. "I've been here since the beginning. You were too invested in fighting to pay attention, though."
Winston glanced at Bran. "I knew she was here from the beginning. I think you're just blind."
Bran glared at the boy. "Shut up. Why do you always insult me?!"
Winston chuckled. "Give me a reason not to."
Kara pushed her sunglasses back up as she took a sip of a banana smoothie. "It's great that y'all have y'alls bromance thriving, but can you take it somewhere else if it's going to be this noisy?"
Bran racked his sword. "Why are both of you so annoying? It's almost like y'all were meant to be!"
Winston pulled sunglasses out of his back pocket and deadpanned. "We were, Bran. You see, we are madly in love, and we shall run for the hills to elope."
Bran retched. "Ugh, please, never say that again. I don't think I'll ever feel more disgust."
Kara chimed in. "Yeah, I'll have to agree with my brother on that one; It was nasty."
Winston shrugged. "I think y'all just can't handle my awesome charm."
Kara took another sip of her smoothie. "Anyway, Mom said to go talk with her when you're done here, something about your awakening. I almost laughed when I heard you were going to follow through with it."
Bran nodded. "I'll make sure to head in now. By the way, I don't think you should be resting like this. You know how Uncle Dave is when you relax this much."
Kara giggled. "Yeah, he always talks about how, at any moment, an assassin could poison me when I don't have my guard up."
Bran scratched his chin. "How'd you even get away from him? Normally, he's never far away, but it seems like he's disappeared."
Kara smiled arrogantly. "Oh, that? I used my secret weapon: Mom. Yeah, when I told her how absolutely tired I was and I felt as though I was going brain dead, she berated Uncle and made him promise to let me relax."
Bran walked away while looking back at the duo behind him. "Make sure y'all don't get into too much trouble. I'm going up to see Mom."
Winston waved. "See ya. I'll make sure to make sure your sister doesn't do anything too bad."
Kara glared at the boy, her eyes filling with malice. "How dare you! I'm the one that should be watching you!"
Bran chuckled as he left the two arguing in the background, the wind picking up, making his hair wave. "Huu, I wish this never had to end."