Two hours had passed since the conversation ended; the interviews had already started. In fact, the person who would walk out the door soon was the one before me.
I was nervous — after all, this was my natural right.
I wiped my head with my hand and looked up at the ceiling. After a short while, I checked the time, and then I heard the door open. A big, blue-haired young man came out looking upset.
"Damn it! Damn it! Why didn't they choose me?! What am I lacking?! Shit…"
He was muttering quietly. My anxiety increased even more.
"Participant Mr. Yhazem, please come in."
I heard a deep male voice from behind the door. I knocked, opened it, bowed my head, and closed it behind me. The man told me to sit. I did. My eyes were fixed on the man who seemed to have survived dozens of wars.
But the atmosphere was suddenly broken by a warm, beautiful voice:
"Candidate Yhazem… You passed. The tournament is next week. You may leave now."
The voice belonged to Princess Julia.
Yhazem knew her, but he was speechless. When the man looked at him, Yhazem stood up, bowed, thanked them, and left.
In that moment, one thought passed through his mind:
"Was… was that it?!"
Admond
The big man looked at the princess.
"Yes, my lady?"
She asked:
"How strong was he?"
The big man replied:
"Very strong. If the rumors are true, he's a huge advantage against your sister."
"I see…"
Night had fallen. Yhazem received a notification on his phone: he had been selected for the final 32 participants. A smile spread across his face, and he began laughing like crazy.
"Ahahahahahaha!"
Tears streamed down his face. "I did it… I DID IT!"
Now all he needed to do was win. Yhazem happily threw himself onto the bed and fell asleep.
Lightning was striking everywhere. The sky was green. Everything was burning and disappearing. People's screams echoed, and the blood-covered ground looked like a massacre.
Yhazem tried to understand. His head hurt and his vision was blurring.
"Yhazem… run! Run without looking back! Protect your sister and your twin!"
A white-haired woman stood before him, leaning down and holding his hand. She looked noble, but her face was blurry; he couldn't tell who she was. Her voice was soothing.
His eyes closed again. This time, he was in a hangar. It was quiet and empty. When he opened the door, he couldn't believe his eyes: his sister Helen was on the ground. On the wall of the hangar was the body of a dead child.
His eyes closed again.
Again. Again. Again. Again…
He kept appearing in different places: in one vision he was eating with Helen and strangers, in another he was being pushed on a swing by a middle-aged man with black hair, in another he was playing hide-and-seek with little kids.
But the last one was the strangest: a huge library. He walked around, but it was empty. When he opened the books, there were only photos — of himself, Helen, and strangers whose faces were hidden.
But among them, there was one special book: The Oath of the Suffering Children.
He began reading it. It sounded like a lament:
Children mourn against each other
For the oaths they could not keep, hand in hand.
In the 3rd month he is abandoned; while 1 and 2 are together, he is alone.
In the 1st month he shall mourn on the promised day.
For their words, the 3rd month shall return, even if forgotten.
The pain of that day is lived again.
The oaths shall not be kept; it is time for mourning.
While the 1st month sleeps, the 2nd month will learn the truth.
When the 3rd month arrives, it will be too late…
Yhazem couldn't understand it. But the real problem was on the 3rd page; nothing was readable.
When he turned the page, one of the blurry faces had changed: a black-haired, red-eyed child. He felt a strange familiarity.
"Wake up, my brother Yhazem."
Yhazem turned around toward the source of the voice. The small child — the one he had just seen in the book — was standing there.
And his eyes closed again.
The dreams were over.
Now came the real world.