12 RISE

Claude always dreamt. Every night. Hell, every-time he closed his eyes, a different world was waiting for him to watch. He had an active imagination.

Gil said he would've been an artist or a musician if he wasn't in a world of monsters. If he didn't hyper-fixate on his physical weaknesses, have a love for helping animals and find out about adventuring heroes.

But ultimately, he dropped the drums and paintbrush years ago.

He did still have his pen and charmers flute though. If only he could take them into his dreams.

It would've been better than having to sit in pitch blackness, unmoving as the sounds of his fathers sniffles echoed like torturous ambience in a cave.

To go along with that cave essence, things moved in the distance. Things with eyes that reflected the nonexistent lights beyond his own mind scape. Things that slithered and scratched against the floor from scaled bellies. They circled him. Just barely out of reach.

"You're right there, man…" Mr. Raizen's voice boomed.

Dreams were so confusing. A lot like adults lately….

Sometimes his dreams lasted a long time. Sometimes they came in short waves of threes, all different, all ended by the same voice.

Her voice.

She screamed. A tortured— human, cry of anguish and rage. It was complex in its negativity, a lot like himself.

And then she spoke, and he couldn't help but physically recoil at their difference.

"—YOU'RE WEAK!"

At the same time, his father's voice welcomed him to reality.

"Rise and shine, hotshot!"

He woke up in the same darkness he went to sleep in. His books were splayed across his bed, weighing down his beaver fur blankets where Frosty didn't as he sluggishly rose to his feet and stretched.

Gil stood at the side of his bed in his usual form. Hair packed with gel, sideburns jagged, leather jacket on. His long nose stood out in the darkness for some reason.

Maybe it was Claude searching for familiarity to combat his dreams.

"You alright?" Gil palmed his forehead, "You're not sick are you? If you were that'd be a sign from the gods. Probably the third sign, actually."

Claude pushed away his father's hand, "I don't get sick, dad."

"Oh yea….. wish I was raised in a forest." Gil said as he backed up while Claude sat up and got out of bed.

"They don't have forests in Arthuria?"

Gil shook his head, "Not where I was raised, kid. Just stone walls and….. competition. And no, I'm not expanding on that."

"Ok." Claude replied as he looked up at his father, wiping sleep from his eyes all the while.

"You know why?"

"Because we're introverts to a fault….. that's what Martha says." Claude yawned.

"Martha's about to get a boot up her— anyway. We're not talking about troubled pasts because today's a day about the present and future!"

Frosty howled. Ray flew in and rested on the open windowsill behind them.

"The red-woods…" Claude's brain turned on a little faster then.

Gil slapped his shoulder, "There you go. Let's get this workout in and take the day."

Claude raised an eyebrow at his dad, "You're joining me…?"

Gil shrugged and for a moment Claude thought of Ursula. "Yea, why not."

"Ok. Let's go." Claude took off in a sprint and jumped out of his window.

As he rolled in the cold grass he peeled off his shirt and bounced to his feet. Without looking, he held out his arm. Ray landed on his healed forearm, stomping on it as if his arm was a branch that needed stability checking.

"Good as new." Claude said.

Ray turned around and studied his face. Slim avian head twisting side to side as if something about him changed.

"Do you remember when you asked me to get rid of Ray?" Gil asked as he climbed out of Claude's window. His size didn't seem a problem. He was very mobile.

"Please don't remind me." Claude replied.

"What did you say?"

"I didn't want to be an avian beast-tamer. They don't make strong heroes."

"But…."

"But if I lived my life trying to be something I'm not, then my Rebirth would reflect that. Trying to get rid of Ray was a mistake, for sure. Heroes don't turn away helping people if it disadvantages them. I shouldn't either."

Gil hesitated at his last words before slightly altering the subject. "— And now look at you. Probably the youngest person in SkyHaven with a falconry license." Gil stretched his legs.

"That's not saying much. Anyone can work with Ray."

"But would anyone?" Gil questioned.

Claude thought on that for a moment.

His father took off, "Last place makes breakfast!"

Frosty and Ray followed, leaving Claude sprinting to catch up as he remembered how bad of a cook he was.

***

If he remembered how good of a runner his father was, he wouldn't have bothered.

Claude didn't know how old his father was. Gil said it was rude to ask. He looked like he was in his forties. If he was Reborn, he could be in the prime of his youth all the way into his seventies. But he wasn't. And still, he ran like an olympian from the lands of Greece.

Tangent Teretologists had to be at the peak of their physical performance. The better off they were, the less time the heroes they worked with would have to spend protecting them.

His dad was good at his job. So of course, Claude lost.

"Cook those sausages faster, chef!" Gil slapped the table while Frosty and Ray loudly agreed.

"Trying not to burn the house down."

Gil waved him off, "Ahh, it's all wood. It'll make a nice campfire. Maybe you'll be Reborn as a Culinary-Catastrophist."

"That's not a word."

"You're like twelve, what do you know?" Gil joked.

"Fair point."

Claude forked another set of sausages off the steaming skillet along with the leftover potatoes and dried fruits. The scents made his mouth water even before he added the spices foraged from the forest by his father mid-run.

In a rush, he turned the gas off on the grill-stove and carried over the platter of meat, potatoes and berries.

Gil rubbed his hands together like a fly.

"You seem more excited today. Last time we talked about my Rebirth you didn't seem….. I don't know. Like this."

Gil grabbed his portion of food, "Sometimes you gotta give a little good to get a little good, you know?"

"So, is you being excited and animated your way of hoping the good you get in return is me not being Reborn?"

Gil scarfed down his sausages and shook his head, "The good is you living to see another day."

Claude somehow forgot about the prospect of death. It was at an all time high now…. And it was only up from there.

"Right…" Claude mixed his potatoes and berries and ate it all in three scoops.

"Best I can do now is not give you any extra mental baggage to slow you down. I know you know about whatever's in those redwoods waiting for you guys— you're more researched than me on some animals. You train. You're disciplined. The rest is you and chance. Just be you. Whether you're Reborn as a knight, Necromancer, elemental mage or not at all, I got your back, kid."

Claude smiled. "Thanks, dad."

*****

The travel to the academy was a blur. The same could be said for ninety percent of the day, he couldn't focus on anything beyond tawny bark trees and slithering serpents.

The excitement was returning— combatting the dread.

Monster-Studies class started outside. They needed the extra time to travel to their chosen Infested Area.

There was no banter. No noise or extra movements.

Mr. Raizen ran them through a series of weapons, armor and injury checks. Then while they warmed up, he fired off quick questions on plated-snakes.

Lucas, Warren, Victoria, Drey and Annalise failed. When the warm-ups ended they were still doing push-ups.

Xander, Duke, Ursula, Emma, Roy, James, Claude and the rest of the class found themselves standing when team- lineups were suddenly announced.

"Alright, if you don't like your teammates, remember that you can die even if you liked them anyway. You're here to do a job, if you start drama I'll cut you from my class and then be the strongest advocate from your removal from the academy…."

Claude knew that wasn't happening. The Nine were dumping a great deal of resources into the Rebirth of every student on the field. Not just in New Gloria, but for a great portion of the western world.

"Now, let's begin." Mr. Raizen had the students spaced out on the field. The platform stood behind them like a wooden abstract monument. "Team one, James, Victoria, and Lucas. Team two, Xander, Duke, and Emma….."

As Mr. Raizen fired off the student teams, the newly formed groups joined up and began game-planning.

It took a while before Mr. Raizen got to them. It felt like the world was trying to build suspense at every turn.

Then finally,

"Team seven, Ursula, Claude and Warren."

Claude was already standing beside Ursula.

"Oh yea, this is gonna be good." Ursula smiled and held out her fist.

The two fist-bumped as Warren approached.

"You two look happy." Warren spun an arrow like a drumstick between his fingers. He wore a uniform similar to Emma's. Light leather armor, dark brown poncho and simple sprinters boots. He tried to keep his hood up but his nappy high top of hair had other plans.

"We are." Ursula replied.

"We are?" Claude asked to clarify.

Ursula headed over to the weapons rack stationed underneath The Platform, beside the sparring ring, and swiped through the weapons.

"Of course we are! You've been working towards this moment for months. I'm a year late on my Rebirth. This is exactly what we need." Ursula picked up her jagged great sword, the iron-chunk.

"Wait…. Year late? How old are you?" Warren asked.

"Fifteen and a half." Ursula studied her crappy blade. "My dad didn't let me go to school for a while. Then we moved around a lot."

"Almost sixteen and no Rebirth..? Not a good sign." Warren mumbled.

"Ohhhh I'm so scared." Ursula replied sarcastically.

"The Dominator was Reborn at twenty-six and joined The Nine a year later, King-Breaker was Reborn at eighteen. Age doesn't always matter." Claude replied.

"But it does sometimes." Warren slid his arrow back in its quiver.

"Why be a dick?" Claude questioned.

Warren threw his hands up defensively, "Why get so defensive? Am I insulting your girlf—"

Ursula flicked his shiny dark-skinned forehead with one of her meaty calloused fingers. It probably felt like getting hit by a rock. Knowing Warren, that equated to a death blow.

"OUCH— girl, what the hell—"

"No drama, bow-boy. Remember?" Ursula pointed to Mr. Raizen who was looking at them as if they were the plated-snakes.

Before Warren could say anything, the academy backdoor's swung open.

Claude recognized the office worker by her dainty figure and rich brown hair in its usual gelled down bun. She looked excited— surprised, as she shuffled across the field in her pencil skirt and white blouse.

"Letter for Ursula Legrand!! Letter for Ursula Le—"

"Ahh! We got it!" Mr. Raizen tried to salvage the blunder but students were already gossiping. That's all it took.

Claude got to see Warren's facial expression shift in real time as he looked up at Ursula. He'd never seen a face shift from offense to astonishment so fast.

Then again, he'd never got to see someone be revealed as a child of The Nine.

Samuel and Tai were famous before even entering The Academy.

Ursula was the academy ogre.

And now also revealed as relative of one of the strongest if not, the strongest, man on earth.

The Red Knight of Rage. Wielder of Solar Fire and owner of The Grand-Knights Guild.

None of this explained why Ursula was so angry as she stomped over to retrieve the letter from Mr. Raizen.

"Everyone line up! And if I hear a word, your cut from the event!" Mr. Raizen snapped at the staring students.

Claude felt like he was back in hell-week of the c.s academy.

Everyone stood in silence, making a line in the grass pointing away from the crappy wood and metal building.

Mr. Raizen stood beside Ursula as she read the paper.

Claude occupied the back of the line. His hearing was better than most— living in a forest your whole life forced your senses to never grow dull, but even he couldn't hear much other than Mr. Raizen.

"—ey, I know how he gets. And I know it's none of my business but I can get you through this against his word. If you're Reborn here, then by law you have to go to the University after. But it has to be in this event. I can't stretch it any further, do you understand?"

Ursula didn't say anything. Or she was so quiet that Claude didn't hear her.

All he knew was, when she rejoined him and Warren at the back of the line, she ditched her iron-chunk sword in exchange for twin axes. They weren't used by most students because of the weight and odd size. But Ursula was large— angry enough, to make it work.

A storm brewed in her face. Lightning fast twitches in her eyebrows and booming nostrils flares made it feel like she was a bull stamping her hooves behind Claude.

Warren's survival instincts— or imagination, wasn't as developed.

He stood in front of her, turning to speak.

"So…. The Red K—"

"Shut the hell up."

"Yep, you got it." Warren faced straight once more.

Ms. Callisto joined Mr. Raizen at the front of the line before heading to the back.

There was no announcement or final wordings. Everyone was ready and armored up.

All that was left, was the journey.

Hell, if Claude could've, he would've ran it.

They started their trek in silence.

In question.

In anger.

In preparation for one thing.

Rebirth.