CHAPTER 2

"Where are we, Mama?" Celeste inquired blankly.

Elicia clutches the child's hand firmly as they stroll through the grounds. Following them are a bunch of other kids forming a line before Celeste. After leading them out of the frigid and impassive room, Elicia directs them to a prairie that stretches to what appeared like a hectare long. The tall grasses entwined with the loam of the earth and its golden seeds moved in a steady wave. Celeste felt a tender tickle on the sole of her feet. The maid observes the view straightly. "Where do you think we are?" she derisively asked back.

There is only one thing that visited Celeste's mind. "Are we going for food?"

Celeste knew she was wrong, but trying is still worth it. Elicia's cackle harmonized with the chorus of the birds above. The touch of magic aided the empty hole inside her. When she was about to confirm or refute it, Celeste felt a heart-stopping moment, the sound of herbs heaved as if some people were promenading towards them. A swarm of people emerged and also had someone like Mama Elicia.

The only difference is she was smaller and plumper due to her broad shoulders and thick-looking arms. "Good day headmaster." The woman enunciated in a forced sing-song manner.

Mama Elicia bowed firmly and cast her usual smile. "Good day too, Bobby."

She pivoted. "Your students are looking so fine. How's your day?" The other maid examined the girl beside Celeste. Lavender looked taken aback by the sudden question. It can easily be answered but Celeste can comprehend the former's apprehension. Contrary to Elicia, Bobby emanates the definition of terror. Celeste can tell from her mere appearance. Hence, she prayed Bobby will only focus on Lavender.

"Lavender, she's Professor Bobi. Mother of those kids." Elicia indicates Bobby through the use of her hand and the children following her trail. They wore a similar dress code and marched on the same path.

"My, headmaster. Your children do forget quickly that it aches my heart. Well, it can't be helped. Reformatting is one of our academy and orphanage's fundamentals for failing to do so can taint their minds; it is something we can't permit under our authorization. Isn't that right, kids? Aren't you thankful to us for making you immaculate and free from imperfect memories? Instead of crawling on the stree-"

"That's enough Bobby." Elicia interrupted.

Now Celeste had more doubts than ever. She can't understand a word they are saying, nor everything that is happening. Bobby halted hesitantly and gave a forced beam. Bobby offered the last glance which landed on Celeste. The latter was obliged to smile out of will, and she highly thinks she resembles a cow. "Okay, faster kids, faster! We need to get to the stadium as fast as possible." she bellowed in her hoarse voice.

"Mama" Celeste tugged Elicia's dress when she noticed a strange wall at the end of the road. "What is that?"

"Ah, that's the barrier, the outside place is called the periphery. You are safe as long as you're inside. There is an ongoing war outside, and we regularly reformat brains to protect children from the terrible experience they had." She muttered brightly; which made Celeste grasp half of the occurrences.

They continued to the steady grasses; the quilt of the land was so soft on their soles that they could also feel the warmth coming from it. How the hues of gold and green move along Celeste's breath, how the warm weather pleasantly scattered among them, and how the shimmering blade of sun rays illuminated as they walk, this is by far the most beautiful compared to blood, poison, knives, weapons, and corpses in battlefields. The further they walked, the larger and more imposing a large building appeared. They have reached the place where tall grasses are now formed into smaller ones, several plants with a hedgerow trim circling the circular building, and a very impressive location in Celeste's eyes.

"Here we are, my dear children." Celeste's thoughts were interrupted by Elicia who brightly pointed to a door that looked like a telephone booth, but with a shade of black. Lots of panes of glasses surrounded the booth and it stood below a clean wall free from any graffiti.

Elicia opened the door and the lot stepped inside the silvery box. They jammed against the phone apparatus and waited for Elicia to reach the receiver. She pressed the number keyboard until a voice of a man spoke.

"Welcome to the Azure Stadium, please state your name, business, and students."

"Elicia, adviser of first set internee. Standard Identification from 121189 to 123189."

"Good. Grab your tickets and take them to the turnstile." There was a click and a clatter of machines and Celeste saw something slide out of the metal slope. A long line of paper appeared from the stile and Elicia picked it up. The rest of the kids excitedly leap towards the gate that distorted their formation.

"Children, listen to me carefully." she sweetly said. Some of the children were so delighted by the turnstile that it took a moment for Elicia to talk properly. "Once you enter the place, make sure to make no noise. Nobles and feudal lords from the country of Leizhte have arrived before us so it's the best way to respect them through not embarrassing ourselves, are we clear?"

A tide of thoughts ran through Celete's mind that she wasn't able to figure it all out. Where did Celeste of the present come from? Was she originally from Leizhte? Are all these children victims of the enemies? The next thing she contemplated was the reformat thing Elicia mentioned. Was the purpose of it to make them forget about their past and force them to live here with stillness in their minds? A second voice inside her head begged to disagree. There is an entity she can't see with the naked eye.

"Celeste Amihan."

Celeste almost leaped from the sound of her name. The tall man who called her was wearing black trousers and a scarlet tunic with a collar of aquamarine hues. He exudes utter formality that gives dread to her. Celeste pursued the course of his sight and it debarked on her wrist. She discovered an outlandish mark she only saw once in a slaughterhouse. A black stamp carved in a knot tied and interweaved towards each other in the form of a circle. A stain befitting a swine. "So they brand us like a varmint?" she mumbled.

"Celeste Amihan," he repeated, but it was deeper now. "You may now pass the gateline."

Celeste found it insignificantly decent for them to keep their real names intact to their memory. At least the children can hold on to the slightest tinge of their true identity. Although there is a sole distinction that differentiates her from the rest — she does have her memory but not the body she owns now. Celeste surmised the body was reformatted before she entirely took possession of it.

"Bloody…it looked prettier inside." Celeste babbled. There were about a hundred people inside the stadium as far as she could see. Silver rows of chairs that look like stars rose from the ground to the top. As she sat upon one of them, she had a clearer view of how enormous it is. It envelops her to another proportion as if she turned into a small maggot made powerless and childlike.

"Lavender Dyani. You may now pass." The child with brown eyes kept her auburn hair in a clean ponytail; the complete opposite of her state when they first met. She sat beside Celeste.

"Dalton Kevinsky." His footsteps echoed loudly. Celeste identified contrasts that made him memorable, purple eyes and messy white hair. There were no absentees documented a few moments after, and it seemed like this is the entire class Celeste has to interact with for heaven knows how long. However, something caught Celeste's attention. A guard approached one of their class members and voiced his concern to the person propping to the wall instead of sitting. "Alfredo Zaison am I right? I think it's best to sit."

"No thanks, I think not…I-I mean, I'm fine with standing."

The man, with a suit similar to the guards earlier, looked bewildered by his response. He glanced in the direction of the visitors and other orphans. He had no choice but to irresolutely let it slide and leave. The kid's a slim boy. Celeste would mistake his loose shirt for a larger size if it weren't for his height. His messy hair was neck-length and parted, but longer to the left that it had covered one of his eyes. Celeste was half-amused, but he still chickened out of his own game and it made her snicker. It was a mistake. Because she captured Alfredo's interest. He bestowed her a cold glare.

"Very well."

Thankfully, their attention was shifted to the speaker that emitted a man's voice to where it came from. In the precise middle of the front row, sat a man's back wearing a scarlet robe with gray facings in a silk fabric.

"The perpetrator's now present, let us begin shall we?"

"Indeed."

This caused a ruckus among the orphans. "Perpetrator?"

"Are we on a court?"

"This is a stadium, stupid." said an eager voice who sounds anticipating what was happening despite having no clue.

Someone at the end of the front bench answered. Its back was also facing toward Celeste and it wore the same scarlet robe. She squinted my eyes and saw a quill suspended in its hand.

"What's happening?"

"Shh! We were told to stay quiet!" says Lavender.

The boy on Celeste's right side protested. "But we weren't told to speak either!"

Everyone stalled and went silent when the door on the lowest floor creaked open. It brought out a thin man who exhibited himself as though he hadn't slept and eaten for years. His hands are encircled with metal chains and his hind foot discharged a red liquid that slicked to the ground, blood.

He walked across the stage and sat cautiously at the chair provided for him in the middle. The bailiff spoke. "All rise. Department Zero of the Superior Court is now in session. Judge Zagreus Vonstein Guilford presiding. Please be seated. Any witness for defense?" he asked. No one responded. "None."