Kaluar's eyes slowly opened, staring at a white ceiling. The sun shimmered through the window, casting a golden hour glow as it sank into the horizon.
'Huh? Where am I?' Kaluar muttered, getting up slowly from the bed that comforted him, his wounds completely healed, feeling refreshed but a bit tired.
'You're in the infirmary,' the voice of a woman responded, startling our hero. Her black hair cascaded from her head, small purple streaks hidden in the strands. Her outfit looked to be that of a plague doctor.
'Where's Mirai?' He managed to mutter, getting up from his bed in a hurry.
'He left quite a while ago. I told him to get some rest, and he headed straight for his room. I suggest you do the same.' She grabbed a pen, writing something down on a piece of paper. 'If any teacher stops you to go to class, just show them this.'
Kaluar accepted the piece of paper; the handwriting was atrocious, but he nodded anyway before making his way for the exit.
Mirai sat in his room by himself, his hands over his yellow eyes, back to the wall, its cold embrace welcoming him like the concrete he remembers so well. His grip tightened over his face, teeth grinding against each other with rage and frustration.
He wanted to kick, scream, break something, all the emotions clawing up his throat at once, fighting to get out even if that means breaking his jaw open. The strands of his gray hair hung over his face as he fought the urge, the urge to scream.
'I,' he muttered in the deadly silence, his mouth slightly agape as he carefully chose his next few words. 'I couldn't do it, no matter how much I study or train, it'll NEVER be enough!'
'Magic? Ha! What a joke! Who needs it!? Right, dad? Right!?' A dead silence slowly filled the space of his random outburst, slowly eating away at his psyche, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips.
His hands ran up his face, the strands of hair filling the cracks between his fingers, yellow eyes now staring at the ceiling accompanied with deep, slow breaths.
Slowly remembering everything, his father, Kurai, Kioku and Oboete, it all made his blood boil, his eyes closing to ease the frustration, shutting as tight as possible, but it only made his rage worse.
Like needles digging into his skin, the irritation of the wounds that were long healed, still feeling their effects from childhood, the shock of his father being captured, the constant beatings from Kioku and Oboete... and-
'Who am I kidding,' He muttered to himself, 'At this rate, I'll never be an adventurer, I'll die on the expedition and I'll never fulfill my dream. I'll just rot away in the corner of some cave! All my efforts would have been for nothing!'
'But at the same time, all this effort I've put in now, soon to be overshadowed by a rune, a cheat code I should've used from the start.' He fell to his knees, his hands supporting his weight, tears flooding from his eyes, wetting the floor he kneeled over.
His feeble attempt to claw into the wooden floor as it suffered the rain of his bitterness and contempt, forming puddles of regret and pent-up sadness, showing reflections of his past, sad, pathetic, MISERABLE LIFE!
The book resided by his side, its soft glow filling up the room lightly, stopping the tears that flood, replacing it with false hope of a power that wasn't his, the strength from a flick of a page, the strength to fulfill his dreams.
'I'm sorry, dad.'