The wooden door creaked as Nathan returned to his apartment. No matter how much Nathan wanted to move out from this apartment that reminded him so much of the life he could have had, he just couldn't let go of the past.
Perhaps one's living quarters were the best reflection of one's mental state. The only word that could describe the sorry state the apartment was in was depressing. The dim lights, worn-out furniture, and overall empty interior made the place feel barren.
Crashing into the leather couch, Nathan allowed the built-up fatigue to paralyze him. Staring at the only piece of decoration in the whole apartment, a sepia photograph of a family of three taken almost a decade ago, he whispered, "What's the point of living if you are not here to see me? What will happen to me if I awaken powers like yours tomorrow? Will I end up like the both of you, gone and forgotten?" Overwhelmed by a harrowing sense of misery, he dozed off.
"Sleep well, we will be back before you know it," a soothing voice comforted the restless kid, his well-trimmed beard tickled Nathan's forehead. Not that Nathan doubted his parents' ability to remain unscathed in the face of a mission impossible for others, but no child could sleep soundly when their parents were out there risking their lives.
And somehow, a sense of uneasiness sprouted in his heart. Sneaking out of bed, he wanted to surprise his parents by giving them a warm welcome at the front gates of the city. Being the son of the two most well-known warriors in the city made it easy for him to hang out on the city's walls.
The midnight breeze was chilly, his loose pajamas fluttered in the wind. Anxious but also full of anticipation, he waited patiently for his parents' return. It was not his first time doing so, but somehow he just couldn't shake off the uneasiness. As the sirens of the city suddenly blared, Nathan's blood ran cold.
More and more fully geared soldiers began to rush out of the city, heading towards the outskirts of the city. "No, it can't be," Nathan thought, it was only supposed to be a simple night patrol where his parents returned after a quick stroll around the outskirts.
After an hour of brooding, the soldiers began to return. A throng of bloodied soldiers carrying body bags was perhaps a sight too traumatic for an eight-year-old to witness. Holding back his tears, he couldn't bear the thought of having to see his parents stored in those green bags.
But as he climbed down the ladder, a sudden white flash lit up the night sky. "NO!" Nathan screamed, the white light was way too familiar. It was the light of the moon, a power only his mother knew how to harness. His hands slipped as the sense of dread enveloped him, falling off the twenty-foot ladder.
"NO!" Nathan screamed, as he woke up drenched in cold sweat. "Liars, you never came back," he whispered, looking at the only photo he had of his parents.
Trying to find a way to calm down his racing heart, Nathan submerged himself in a tub filled with ice-cold water. A decade since the tragedy happened, and he still allowed it to haunt him every night. He knew he couldn't allow a distant memory to devour his future.
But no matter how well he was in convincing himself, Nathan could never be the same after that fated incident. The optimistic and extroverted kid was replaced by an apathetic walking pile of flesh and bones. His interpersonal relationships collapsed, sinking deeper and deeper into a vat of sulking misery.
Arriving at the academy early, Nathan headed toward the counselor's office. Ever since he lost his parents, he was required to have a weekly "chat" with the counselor. This was supposedly their last session since he will be turning eighteen in a couple of days. "Welcome Nathan, how are you?" the counselor's warm greeting was met with cold indifference.
The counselor was a middle-aged man dressed in a simple buttoned-up shirt, but what Nathan was always suspicious of was the demeanor the counselor had. Those sharp eyes of his belonged to those experienced instructors who have fought in countless battles.
Nathan stared blankly into the counselor's eyes, wondering what prompted a man with such a presence to willingly work as a therapist for teenagers with family issues.
"How are you coping with the accident?" the counselor asked. Hearing the question for perhaps the hundredth time, Nathan sighed. "It has been a decade, I have already accepted that they are gone forever," Nathan replied, repeating the same answer for the hundredth time.
The counselor talked some more, which Nathan promptly ignored. After ten minutes of a one-sided conversation, the counselor sighed. "Well, this concludes our last session. I know how hard it is for you, I'll be here if you ever need me. Good luck with the awakening ceremony," the counselor said, marking the end of the session.
Today was a big day for the students. It was the day when they would finally be able to wield their powers, or awakening they called it. Normally, children would have their bloodlines sealed to prevent them from hurting themselves or others, and today was the day that the seal would be broken.
The black crest imprinted on the back of their hands was the students' worst enemy, stopping them from enjoying their full prowess. The usual lively chatter that drowned out the class was gone, replaced by excitement that the students could barely contain.
Arriving in front of the school's laboratory, they were shaking with excitement. Their instructor was already there waiting, with the school nurse who Nathan had already had a small run-in yesterday standing beside him.
Nathan was all too familiar with the instructor. Lieutenant Arthur, a student of his late father, was also the one who brought Nathan the news that his parents were missing in action.
"This is Nightingale, she will be here to make sure that hopefully, no one dies today," Arthur said, introducing the nurse.
"Most of you know this already, but you will be required to keep suppression bracelets on at all times after your awakening. Those who fail to comply will face severe consequences," Arthur said. Suppression bracelets were gadgets created to limit and monitor the power one was using.
The teenagers enthusiastically formed a line, eager for their turn. With crimson hair and a refined physique, the first teen in line was brimming with confidence. "What was his name again?" Nathan wondered, still unfamiliar with his classmates even after three years.
Looking at the clipboard in his hands, Arthur said, "Sean Lyons, you must be the son of the Flame colonel." Receiving the silver suppression bracelet from Arthur, Sean walked into a large chamber that seemed to be made of glass.
As the glass door slid shut, a white gas began to fill the chamber. Breathing in the gas, Sean felt a burning sensation slowly building up in his body.
Crimson flames erupted from the silhouette shrouded by the white gas, lighting up the chamber. Feeling the fiery energy coursing through his veins, Sean grinned. His white teeth turned sharp and yellow, two devilish horns sprouted at the top of his forehead.
The white smoke cleared, showcasing Sean's full form to the entire class. He was now seven feet tall, shrouded in crimson flames. Arthur seemed to have recognized the monster, his expressions darkened temporarily before returning to his usual poker face.
Putting on the bracelet, the flaming image of a devil disappeared, returning Sean to his human form. The only difference Sean had from a normal human was the two shrunken down horns that were poking out from under his hair.
"B-grade Elemental spirit, Ifrit. Partial transformation, rated level 4," Arthur said, a researcher next to him quickly recorded the results. The students' bloodlines were graded on two metrics, one being the rarity and the other being the purity.
"Your family invested quite a bit in you, that bloodline is valuable," Arthur said with a hidden tone of bitterness. Hearing this, Sean snapped back, "Inheriting a flame bloodline from our family is normal. What are you implying lieutenant?"
Nathan noticed that none of Sean's clothes weren't damaged in the process. Were the Lyons so sure that Sean would awaken a flame-related bloodline, or was Arthur right that Sean had some extra help?
The small quarrel aside, the next in line was a chubby teenager. His hair was covered in wax and neatly combed back, and he was wearing a luxurious chain embedded with rare gems.
"Ben Goldstein?" Arthur asked, trying to verify the kid's identity. Nodding, Ben was going to grab the suppression bracelet from Arthur but was promptly stopped.
"You are not ready," Arthur said, sensing something off with Ben. Hearing this, Ben was not glad at all. "You are only here to determine the rarity of our bloodlines," Ben said, forcefully snatching the bracelet.
"You really shouldn't enter," the normally silent Nightingale chimed in. "Shut up, you lowly nurse," Ben shouted, barging in the glass chamber.
Arthur was originally going to stop Ben, but hearing that, he decided otherwise. If Ben so eagerly wished to dig his own grave, so be it.