The forest near the orphanage was peaceful and quiet, as it always was.
Thick leaves lay scattered across the floor, dark where sunlight never reached. Wind slid through them in low whispers, humming a foresty tune. The trees stood close and tall, old branches poking where various types of birds sat but didn't dare chirp.
They scattered all at once.
A tall young man tore through the undergrowth. He ran fast, shoulders angled forward, boots caked with mud, yet barely making a sound as he stepped on the leaves. To the naked eye, it looked like he was floating rather than running.
He dodged branches and trunks without even sparing them a glance. His eyes were locked on one thing and one thing only.
Ahead of him stood something big, something that broke the quiet of the forest. A massive bull stood there. Its fierce red eyes locked onto him.
Then the bull charged, nostrils flaring. Its massive shoulders opened a path, shoving aside anything they touched.
The young man didn't just sit still.
He cut sideways, avoiding the attack, analyzing the terrain and reading the animal, predicting its next move.
The bull charged forward again. But this time the young man didn't dodge. He jumped forward, closing the distance, leaving the bull confused.
Steel flashed.
The knife drove in beneath the skull, deep and wrong, right where bone gave way. The young man stepped inside the horns and braced as the bull reared, its weight crashing down through his arms. Then he twisted.
The young man did not let go, pushing the knife deeper and deeper. The bull tried to fight back but couldn't. All it could do was unleash a low, deep scream before tumbling to the ground, unmoving.
The young man relaxed only after making sure it was dead. He staggered back, chest heaving, his breath short. His ears rang from the earlier scream.
"Well, that was annoying. What's more annoying is how the fuck I'm supposed to drag this thing back home," Zeke said.
Curses kept coming out of his mouth like fireworks. His shirt was soaked with sweat, arms numb and aching. But as soon as he reached the river bend, he stopped.
Julie was there, sleeves rolled up, surrounded by buckets and wet cloth.
At first glance, she looked the same.
Same height. Same frame. Same calm expression.
But something had changed.
The river water moved at her whim, one stream filled buckets, another rinsed the clothes clean. A third raised as soon as she caught wind of Zeke, or more specifically, the bull on his back.
She wasn't using water or wind elements, not to her knowledge, at least. She was doing all that with just her essence control.
Julie and Zeke still didn't know what their elements were to this day. They didn't have the resources for an aptitude test. So they decided to work on their fundamentals since they would be getting a free aptitude test if they successfully enrolled in the academy.
Zeke hauled the bull the last few steps and let it drop beside her.
Thud.
Julie turned, eyes widening just a little. "You finally did it," she said quietly. "On our last day here."
"Had to try once," Zeke said. He crouched and drew the knife again. "Didn't want to leave them nothing."
He started skinning. Clean cuts. No wasted movements. He'd done this enough times that it almost became automatic.
Julie used the third water stream effectively rinsing when need be, and stopping before it risked becoming a pool.
Neither of them spoke for a while.
Three years had gone by like that. They were hard, tiring, but good years. Years that shaped them to who they were now.
In those years, a lot had changed. The orphanage state improved quite a bit, the food was no longer scarce, and they even fixed a portion of those rundown walls.
New kids had come in. None had left. Permanently, at least.
Neil had left first. Two years ago now. Took courier work in Saltspire. He came back less and less, but when he did, he brought strange tools, better food, and stories that sounded exaggerated until you remembered who was telling them.
Sis Mari was still Sis Mari. She spent more time outside these days, gone longer than before, but she never explained why and no one asked.
Sophia picked up the slack and then some. She kept the orphanage running when Sis Mari wasn't around. She also started knitting on the side. Sweaters, scarves, anything. You name it, she could probably knit it. Layla and Antonio took the finished pieces to market and came back arguing over who sold more pieces that day.
Julie broke the silence. "Are you sure about this?"
"Yeah."
"Leaving without saying goodbye."
Zeke didn't look up. "If we tell them, they'll probably do something stupid for us."
She thought about it. Then nodded. "True."
They'd leave tomorrow. Before dawn. While most of the orphanage was still asleep. Neil wouldn't be around either due to his job.
It was cleaner that way.
Unbeknownst to them something was brewing in the Saltspire town.
Out near Saltspire, a bunch of kids grouped together arguing over everything and nothing. They talked in hushed voices as if they were discussing top secrets.
Neil stood a little apart from them, arms crossed, watching. "I already have most of the tools and gadgets," Neil said, cutting in before it went any further. "Enough for what we need."
"Sophia's still home," someone else added. "She's making the cake. We already bought all the food."
Neil nodded. "Good."
A pause.
"All that's left," he added, "is waiting for Sis Mari to finish whatever she's doing."
Someone snorted. "You really think they won't notice?"
Neil's grin widened, sharp and familiar. "Oh those two are geniuses, but they are the dumbest people I know and I know you too."
A pause.
Then laughter.
"We'll teach those stupid brats a lesson."
By the time Zeke and Julie made their way back, the sky was already starting to dim.
It had been a long day. Hunting. Training. Cleaning up by the river. The kind of day that left your body completely spent.
The orphanage came into view, quiet as ever. Too quiet.
Hold on, when was it ever quiet here.
Zeke slowed first. Julie noticed a second later.
No voices. No running. No arguments. No clatter from the kitchen.
Zeke frowned. "Where is everyone?"
Julie shrugged.
The kitchen door opened.
"Tada."
The word hit them along with noise, light, and laughter all at once.
The kitchen was packed. Every kid who wasn't supposed to be there was there.
Noise, laughter, and joy filled the room.
Food was everywhere. It wasn't set neatly, it was literally everywhere. Steaming bowls of soup that were too close to the edge, plates of vegetables that dared to spill any moment.
And meat, yes, real meat was adorning this table.
And in the middle of it all sat a huge homemade strawberry cake. Written across it, in the most childish handwriting imaginable
NO PLACE HERE FOR LOSERS
Julie stopped dead.
Zeke inhaled sharply. "How did you know...."
"You were going to leave for the academy without saying goodbye tomorrow morning."
Neil's voice slid in from the side, finishing the thought without missing a beat.
Zeke turned slowly.
Neil was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, his usual mischievous grin plastered across his face.
"You think we're that stupid?" Neil continued. "The last train that reaches the capital in time leaves tomorrow. Hmmmm, I wonder when two people who have to ride aboard it would decide to disappear."
Laughter burst out around them.
Zeke opened his mouth. Closed it again. It was obvious they knew.
What came after wasn't planned.
They laughed and ate. They talked and ate. They shared past stories, the good the bad and the downright fabricated ones. And ate.
They ate too much. And they also sang. Badly.
Sis Mari was there from the beginning and today she did not seem like an adult. She was taking part of whatever this chaos could be called.
When the cake was brought forward, Neil cleared his throat. "The first piece is for...."
"It's mine."
Sis Mari already snatched the piece and she was devouring like a beast. She had a sweet tooth.
Silence. That took everyone by surprise.
"I thought she was stoic." Julie said between bites as she was also munching on another piece matching sis Mari's pace.
Neil scoffed. "Stoic my ass. Both of you."
For the first time since they decided to leave, Zeke and Julie didn't feel guilty. They didn't feel like they were stealing something by enjoying this.
They were just kids again.
Maybe for the last time.
Eventually, the younger ones started falling asleep where they sat. The noise died down. The mess remained.
Sis Mari disappeared briefly and returned with two bundles wrapped in cloth.
She handed the heavier one to Zeke.
He unfolded the cloth and found a sword. Plain. No markings. No shine meant to impress. But the balance was right. The grip settled in his hands perfectly. Its edge was deadly.
Before he could speak, she handed Julie the second.
It held a staff made of old wood, darkened with age. A small gem sat at the top, faint but shimmering.
Zeke felt it then.
The weight of it.
This wasn't encouragement. This was a gamble. Years of saving. Years of sacrifice. And neither of them even knew for sure what path they'd walk.
"Thank you," Julie said, voice steady.
Zeke bowed his head in gratitude too.
Arguing wouldn't change anything. So they accepted it.
And when the lights finally went out, the orphanage slept like it always had. But from the next morning onward, nothing would feel the same.