Unwelcomed?

The cave was boring.

Crimson evening sun rays leaked into his prison from the curtain of water. A cell made of rocks, of which trapped him, chained by the headmaster's aura. His eyes, strained, from the hours and his legs, numbed, from the sitting.

"Aa… Aaa…" he mumbled, similar to the mutes found on the street.

His head felt like it was bursting, tightly packed by the amount of knowledge that he had forcefully absorbed. Whenever his eyes closed, the purple aura forced it open, and whenever his head slumped, the purple aura came too and supported it.

"Our lesson for today is over, go back to your dorm, Hubert," his oppressor's voice, the headmaster's, echoed against the rocky wall.

"Aaa…" Hubert mumbled, his lips drying.

In front of him, his desk, once empty, was filled with stacks upon stacks of books. Ranging from the genre of history, or that of theories and thesis, or even from tactics and bare-handed fighting techniques, something unnecessary.

"Rest well, see you," Ivanna bid.

The aura that chained him disappeared in an instant, his head slumped and his back slouched. His eyes glanced to the wall, from where he felt the frightening yet playful gaze earlier. Now it was gone.

He was left alone, and Ivanna was nowhere to be felt.

Hubert yawned, his heavy eyes closing for a moment, enjoying the respite he was allowed by his master.

Time passed, the quietness bothering him, whispering over and over with incoherent and soft melodies carried by the wind.

"..." Hubert replied, his body jerking up from the chair, from which he then saw the desk cleared of any of the scripts and books that tortured him just a few seconds ago.

Unbothered, he turned around and left the place of immortal quietness and endless torture.

The sound of the waterfall was loud as his steps echoed against the narrow corridor leading outside. Then the sound greeted, as he stepped foot into the freedom of the outside world.

The air greeted him, refreshing.

The water welcomed him, splattering.

The sight adored him.

"Ha…" he sighed.

His head turned left, to the base of the waterfall, colored in clear, transparent, and foaming of white. His legs moved according to its own accord, of which he was then carried to the edge of the bank.

The body of bobbling and disorienting water was reflective of his exhausted appearance.

His hair was messy, the oil he applied in the early morning was now gone. His eyes, baggy and tired, showing none of the will that he came with. His face wrinkled as crevasses formed, as if he got older from just being in that cave for a few hours.

His legs, shaky, gave up as he dropped to his knees.

His hand formed a cup, of which he dipped into the stream. His fingertips touched first, feeling the embracement of the cold water. Then he lifted his hand up, his back bending as he brought his face forward.

Alive.

The word that he thought of.

The water saved him, freshened him, reviving even.

His hand dipped into the flow once again, greedily grabbing as much as it could. Then he moved his dried lips, with skins almost peeling off, to his hand and sipped the water.

Quenched.

---

"Forty two!" Ron counted, and Dareon worked.

"Forty three!"

"Forty four!"

Step

His steps felt heavy from the long journey as each one of it kicked up dust from the clearing.

"For-" Ron stopped, his eyes glancing at Hubert.

Blank, as usual. But it felt, for some reason, unwelcoming.

"How are you two…?" Hubert greeted, his voice hesitating to come out.

Dareon jumped upward from his push-up position.

"A-ah! Hubert, we're good, obviously! Haha, b-by the way, wh-why are yo-you here?" Dareon asked as sweat trickled down from his face, not one of exhaustion, but of nervousness that was painted in his trembling pupil.

So were his hands, muscular yet shaking.

"What? Am I not welcomed here?" Hubert asked, his tone peaking, his brows frowning.

Anger was blazing in his eyes, he was not pleased.

"N-no! I-I mean, shouldn't you rest?" Dareon said, his hand gesturing in his explanation.

"What? You think I'm as weak as you think?" Hubert refuted, his voice pressed, his fist clenched.

The veins in his head bulged out.

"O-of course no!" Dareon responded. Panic was burrowed deep in his eyes that darted away avoidingly.

"Stop," Ron commanded, his voice like a whisper. Yet the birds squawked and flew away, the frogs awoke and fled, and the squirrels dropped their nuts and ran.

"Why?" Hubert asked, his eyes now directed at Ron.

He soon found out why.

Ron's eyes were unlike the usual. The blankness and boredom replaced, turned into one filled with sharpened intent, directed at Hubert. 

The gaze was powerful. The air around him was tightening around his neck, which choked him. The light around him bent and wrapped him.

Hubert felt weak from just the stare, his knees shook as his clenched fist trembled. For the first time since a long time ago, his eyes were painted with fear as his pupils shook, one that he was familiar with.

"A-alright, I-I will stop," he spoke, his voice dragging along his throat.

"Good, join," Ron commanded, his voice stern.

Hubert opened his uniform, revealing an undershirt he had always used for exercising since his time as a slave, torn and dirtied. He placed his uniform neatly on a clean spot he found on the ground, then walked.

As he stopped in front of Ron, he was side to side with Dareon. His eyes glanced sneerfully with anger that had not yet dissipated.

"Push up!" Ron said, commanding, his eyes, once again, staring toward Hubert. 

Hubert and Dareon obliged and dropped.

"One!"

"Two!"

"Three!"

Then their routine continued, as usual.

---

The last of the birds chirped, slowly replaced by the croaking of frogs and the chirping of crickets. The sun had sunk once again, replaced by the familiar moon.

The exercise was over. Ron had returned into the room, and Dareon, Hubert cared not for. His sweat had dried off, and his breathing stabilized.

"..." he sat, legs bent, his arms wrapped around it.

His eyes stared at the moon, gleaming of its gracious stature, his friend. The cold wind bashing against his bare skin. Enjoying the one thing he had accepted now, loneliness.

The sounds of life became his entertainment, an orchestra of those created by the one Goddess he believed in. The sight and feelings, comfortable, feeling like home, similar to his mana mind.

"Hubert…" Dareon called, his clothes freshly changed.

"Dar… no, what are you doing here?" Hubert asked, reminded of what he was welcomed before.

"..." Dareon approached, then he placed himself beside Hubert.

"Tch," Hubert clicked his tongue, then he stood up and walked farther away to the side, distancing himself. His mouth shut, as if glued by himself.

The two sat, silenced and distanced.

"I apologize…" Dareon said, out of nowhere. His hand was sweating and slippery, as was his eyes, hopeful yet nervous, staring into the night moon in the far horizon.

"You don't need to…" Hubert replied.

Dareon's eyes brightened, gleaming with joy.

"After all, I don't need your vain words," Hubert continued, his tone uncaring, ruthless.

Dareon's joy was killed.

His hand, he placed it on his chest, gripping it hard, as if wanting to rip his aching heart out as a gift. A gift of sincerity.

"Is that all you need to say?" Hubert asked.

"Ye-yes," Dareon responded, his eyes watery.

"Then go, let me have some moments with myself, will you?" Hubert asked, hushing the man he thought was his friend away.

"No," Dareon replied, rejecting the offer.

Hubert's eyes widened, his face turned to Dareon, his fist clenched.

"What?" Hubert asked, even his tone and words were violent.

"I said no," Dareon affirmed, as if challenging.

"Are you here to pick a fight, then?" Hubert asked, his muscles tensing, ready for one.

"No," Dareon said.

"Thi-this guy, seriously?!" Hubert stood up, with veins that bulged out of his skin from every single muscle as he made his way toward Dareon.

"..." Dareon waited patiently, wiping his watery eyes with his sleeve, and taking a deep breath. He readied himself.

Swoosh!

Hubert grabbed Dareon's collar, like a swooping eagle with its claws.

Just like the first time.

"What the heck do you want?! Are you here so that you can mock me?" Hubert asked, his voice peaked, his grip over Dareon's collar stern.

"..." Dareon's silent replied, his eyes meeting Hubert's.

The answer frustrated him even more.

"Answer me! Goddess damn it! Answer me, Dareon!" Hubert shouted, his saliva spurting everywhere, some landing on Dareon's face.

"I have said it once," Dareon replied, his stare resolved.

Dareon's red pupils were patient and calm, and Hubert's dark, almost black, pupils were troubled and fiery.

"What?!" Hubert asked.

"I have said it before, and yet you rejected it! Then what's the point of me repeating the same words that you will not accept?!" Dareon replied, shouting back.

"Wha-what? You dare? After everything I went through just for you and you shouted at me? Yo-you thin-" Hubert's anger lightened up even more. Yet his words were cut off.

"Then, I'll say it again. I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything that I did wrong to you! I'm sorry for what happened before as well! And I'm sorry that… that I'm not there when you need it the most," Dareon said.

"..." Hubert stared in disbelief, the anger as if subsiding, calmness was in his heart now.

"I'm sorry," Dareon said, once again.

Hubert's fist clenched harder, his feelings of confusion and anger now mingling with each other.

"Agh! Goddess damn it!" he cursed as he released his grip over Dareon's collar, dropping him to the ground.

Then Hubert left the place.

Now, Dareon sat alone. His hopeful eyes were unanswered.