The Mockery of Fate

The graduation ceremony at the Florence Lyceum was in full swing. The ballroom was abuzz with the chatter of proud parents, promising students, and excited graduates, all dressed up in their finest attire. The scene was straight out of a fairy tale, with towering ceilings, ornate chandeliers, and grand staircases leading up to the stage where the graduates were to receive their diplomas.

Among the sea of uniformed students, there stood a young girl with jet-black hair styled in a bop, wearing a graduation gown and hat. Her name was Cheryl, and she had just become the youngest person to pass the national exam.

Cheryl was surrounded by her two friends, both of whom looked like they had just walked out of a gangster movie. They wore the usual school uniform, showing that they were not graduating yet, but their demeanor was anything but ordinary: they looked too free and unrestrained for the serious academic world. The trio chatted animatedly, ignoring the stares and whispers from the posh girls nearby.

The three posh girls were gossiping about Cheryl, questioning how she managed to pass the exam at such a young age, suggesting that it was thanks to her connections. She could clearly hear their comments. They even went as far as to mock Cheryl's friends, calling them "hooligans." Cheryl giggled at their words; she couldn't care less. The girls, though, got really offended by her reaction. They moved towards Cheryl, pissed about her laughing.

"What's so funny?" Asked the angry-looking blonde girl in the middle, "Rude to disrespect those older than you, don't you think?"

One of the girls, with red hair and green eyes, seemed uncomfortable with the confrontation. 

"Jacque is the oldest here, shouldn't you respect him, then? Or is he too much of a hooligan for that?" said Cheryl with a smile on her face.

The angry girl was quick to respond. Without any hesitation, she reached for a champagne glass, and in one quick movement, she poured it all over Jacque and laughed.

"That's the respect he gets."

Cheryl, however, wasn't about to let anyone insult her friends. She grabbed a glass of champagne and moved closer to the girl; their faces now serious. She pulled the girl by her shirt. 

"I won't tolerate anyone offending my friends. You get it?"

The girl looked terrified, and Cheryl stepped back. After a little pause, she poured the champagne from the glass over her own head.

The crowd was stunned, wondering why the youngest and brightest graduate of the lyceum would do such a thing. Some speculated that it was a tradition, while others believed it brought good luck. The red-haired girl hesitated for a moment, then poured her own champagne over her head and laughed. Cheryl smiled at her and handed her a tissue. Soon, some people around them were doing the same, pouring champagne over their heads and laughing. The red-hair girl clearly had some influence around the lyceum: the ballroom was slowly transforming into a joyous celebration, with the crowd joining in and enjoying the moment.

Cheryl looked around her, feeling a sense of unity and camaraderie with her fellow graduates and the students. She knew that this moment would be etched in her memory forever, a testament to the power of friendship and the joy of living in the present. Cheryl's thoughts were interrupted by Jacque's voice.

"Cher, didn't you have to be somewhere soon?"

The girl took out the round watch from her pocket and looked at it.

"Oh," she said. "You're right. I almost forgot. Sorry, guys, I have to go now."

She gave her friends a quick hug and started to make her way through the crowd towards the exit. As she walked, she could hear the whispers and giggles of the other students around her, still splashing champagne on each other and laughing. Cheryl couldn't help but smile at the thought of how quickly the tradition had caught on.

But as she pushed open the doors and stepped outside into the cool evening air, her smile faded. She had somewhere important to be, and she couldn't be late. Cheryl raced through the bustling streets of the city, her heart pounding with every step. She knew that she couldn't afford to be late - not today, not for anything. As she hurried along, she couldn't help but notice a commotion in the distance. It seemed like there was some kind of demonstration taking place in one of the city squares. The noise of shouting and chanting grew louder with each step she took, and she found herself drawn to the source of the commotion.

As she got closer, Cheryl saw a group of around fifty people dressed in traditional clothing, holding posters and placards. The leader of the group was an old man in a long robe, with a huge cross on his chest. He was shouting phrases like "THE MESSENGERS OF DARKNESS ARE AMONG US" and "THE GOD CALLS FOR US TO STOP THE SPREAD OF EVIL".

The leader of the group was shouting out phrases at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing through the square. Cheryl couldn't help but stop and take a closer look at the posters. Many of them mentioned hell, demons, government secret programs, and potential apocalypses.

She looked around at the crowd with interest, thinking to herself, "So crowded". Then suddenly she heard a voice right next to her ear say:

"So crowded".

Startled, she turned to her right and saw a tall man with light, long hair. He was wearing a big t-shirt with an ice cream picture and holding an ice cream in his hand.

"Did I scare you?" he asked with a grin. "Sorry, I move really quietly. It's kind of my work habit," he added.

"What kind of work do you do?" Cheryl asked him, curious.

The man ignored her question, and they continued to watch the protest together.

The protest leader was now looking straight at Cheryl and the man.

"I can feel the energy here... so close," he said, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. "Is it the God's energy or the Devil's one?"

The man with the ice cream piped up. "Hey, graduate, which would you choose, God's or Devil's energy?" he asked, grinning.

Cheryl hesitated for a moment.

"You know, I'm not religious," she said finally. "But I'd say darkness sounds kinda cool."

As they were talking, Cheryl and the man failed to notice that the protest leader was getting closer and closer to them. He continued to talk about good and evil, his eyes fixed on the two of them.

"How do you feel about magic?" he asked, his voice low and intense, his face just a couple of centimeters from theirs.

The ice cream man just shrugged and took another lick of his dessert. "By the way, do you know him?", he asked.

"No", Cheryl replied. "As well as I don't know you", she added.

Suddenly, the police appeared, announcing that all gatherings needed to be approved in advance due to anti-terrorism efforts. Panic rippled through the crowd, and Cheryl looked over at the ice cream man she had been chatting with moments before. They shared a knowing look and began to edge away from the commotion, but one of the policemen announced that no one was allowed to leave the square.

Cheryl had been waiting for today, for the moment yet to happen, for months. Cheryl's heart sank as she checked her watch. She couldn't be late. Not today. She had spent countless hours planning and preparing for today, and now, as she stood in the crowded square, watching the people around her, she knew that everything had to go according to plan. She had to find a way out.

But before she could move, one of the policemen noticed her and the ice cream man.

"Is that a child with you?" he asked, looking suspicious. "You'll have to follow me to the station, I'm afraid."

Cheryl felt a knot form in her stomach as she silently apologized for what was coming next. She knew she couldn't let herself get caught. Not now.

As the policeman reached out to grab her, Cheryl acted on instinct. She slammed her fist hard into his temple, stunning him. Before he could react, she had already taken down another officer, this time with the help of the ice cream man, who had swung his heavy scoop with surprising accuracy. For a moment, they stared at each other in shock, but then the ice cream man grinned.

"Great shot!" he exclaimed. Cheryl couldn't help but laugh.

"Yours wasn't bad either," she said.

With the police in hot pursuit, the two of them took off running as fast as they could. The ice cream man was surprisingly quick for someone carrying a melting horn, and Cheryl's small frame allowed her to dart through the throngs of people with ease. As they ran, Cheryl couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation, and now, as she and the ice cream man outpaced the police, she felt like anything was possible.

"You're strong for a child," the ice cream man panted as they ran.

"My dad taught me to exercise every day," Cheryl replied. The ice cream man laughed.

"Oh-ho, a healthy body makes a healthy spirit!" he exclaimed.

The man with the ice cream sticks close to her side, his long legs keeping pace with her even as they dart around corners and leap over obstacles. Cheryl can hear the sound of police sirens wailing in the distance, growing louder with each passing moment.

"We can't keep this up forever," she pants, her breath coming in short gasps. "We need to find a place to hide."

The man nods, his eyes scanning the surrounding buildings for any sign of an escape route. They come to a sudden halt at the end of a narrow alley, their path blocked by a towering brick wall.

"We're trapped," Cheryl mutters, panic rising in her chest.

But the man doesn't seem worried. He quickly scans the wall for any handholds or footholds, then begins to climb with practiced ease. Cheryl follows close behind, her heart pounding in her ears as they scale the wall.

At the top, they pause for a moment to catch their breath, then continue running across the rooftops of the city. Below them, the police swarm through the streets like ants, their voices echoing up through the narrow alleys.

"We need to keep moving," the man says, his eyes scanning the horizon. "We can't stay in one place for too long."

Cheryl nods in agreement, her mind racing with possibilities. She knows that the police will be hot on their heels and that they can't afford to make any mistakes. But with the man by her side, she feels a sense of hope and determination that she hasn't felt in a long time. Together, they leap from rooftop to rooftop, their feet pounding against the cool tiles as they race towards freedom. And as they disappear into the distance, leaving the police far behind, Cheryl knows that she has found a true ally in this strange, ice cream-loving man.

Cheryl sat on the rooftop, enjoying the view of the city and the port with a man who had just finished his ice cream.

"That was fun," he said, "but I think I should go home and get my documents. Don't want to spend my rare day off accompanied by the police."

So, it was his day off, Cheryl thought. That's why he decided to run through half of the city followed by the police? Such an interesting man he was. She looked at her watch again.

"Oh," she said quietly. Now she had all the chances of being late.

"It was nice meeting you," she said, "but I have to be in the port in 5 minutes, no matter what."

The man looked a bit confused.

"There's no way, you know. It's not possible to get there in 5 minutes," he said.

"Possible or not," Cheryl replied quietly, "but I have to."

She smiled at the man and slid down the roof, gathering speed and jumping from one roof to another. The man looked after her, at first worriedly, but then with a slight smile, turning into loud laughter. Yes, this meeting will be remembered by both of them for a long time.

Cheryl kept jumping from rooftop to rooftop, getting closer to the port with each leap. As the seconds ticked down, she knew she had to take a leap of faith. With a running start, she made a huge jump toward the sea, aiming for the deck of the ship that was about to leave.

She stretched her hands towards the deck, but she was just centimeters away. She was about to fall into the sea when someone strong grabbed her arm and pulled her onto the deck. The man who saved her was tall and muscular, with curly white hair and beautiful eyes of a clear bay color. Cheryl recognized him immediately.

"Vlad!" she exclaimed and hugged him tightly. They hadn't seen each other in a while.

"You really are a damn idiot", Vlad was angry, "Want to die? Do it like a normal person, not jumping off a roof".

Cheryl couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, you're laughing now? Don't expect me to save you next time, you stupid child!"

She was happy and relieved to be with him, and she knew that this was where she wanted to be.