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"Damn them." A voice cried. "Damn them. Damn them. God of Evil. I invoke your name in hopes they will be slaughtered by your hand. Spare none of those hypocrites. Those fucking humans, they\'ll pay."

A constant, dull headache pulled him out of that black pit of unending anger. He didn\'t know why he felt such a rush to kill, nor how he ended up in that pit, nor if he was alive. The only thing that mattered to him was the fact that he had escaped it, that cramped coffin.

When he opened his eyes, a light bared down upon him. After much squinting and blinking, his vision cleared. The light had come from one of many light crystals embedded into the white ceiling. \'Oh,\' he thought. \'I\'m just in my room.\' He shifted on his soft bed but the headache continued to gnaw at him. \'Maybe Eric can help get rid of this.\' He sat up, stretched his limbs, and… \'Who\'s Eric? Who am I? That\'s right. My name is…Cerlius.\'

The ceiling was familiar, but everything in the room was foreign to him. The wooden shelves that lined the gray walls were full of orderly books and papers, not the many toys which his mother had painstakingly crafted for him. In the middle of the space, across from his bed, was a large wooden desk.

Through the backwall\'s large window was the morning sun, rising over a sea of clouds, its rays landing on the back of a green-robed man that Cerlius had never seen before. The white tile floor was cold to Cerlius\'s bare feet. He backed away from the man and slowly made his way towards the door. He knew he wouldn\'t escape, especially because the door didn\'t have a handle. His heart dropped.

The man looked up from the paper he had been working on and seemed to notice Cerlius for the first time. He blew the ink dry, placed paper in a folder, and placed it in a drawer. As he pulled out a clean sheet, he took off his hood.

Although the light obscured the man\'s face, Cerlius could guess the man was in his mid-30s by his clean-shaven face. Although the curly black hair and green eyes made his age harder to determine. The man opened his mouth: "Hello. I apologize for how my companion treated you. My name is Lance. May I ask-"

"Where am I?" Cerlius held his aching head, feeling a pulsing pain flare up. He stayed over by the door even when after the man beckoned him to sit in the bed.

Lance didn\'t bat an eye at Cerlius\'s caution: "You are currently enrolled in the Magic Academy located in Draken Capital of the Acrin Kingdom." His quill scratched against the paper. "Do you remember how you got here?"

Cerlius narrowed his eyes: "Do I remember how I got here? I don\'t even know of a place called Draken Capital, although I know where the Acrin Kingdom is." As he searched through what he remembered, he found it similar to digging through a pile of hot coals. Some memories were burning away, and if he tried to peer at them, his head throbbed. Other memories were cool to the touch, like they had always been there. It was as the man said. Cerlius was a mere fragment of the remains, a shallow shell. "You must know of my parents."

"First kid, do you remember your name?" Lance asked.

"Cerlius, Cerlius D…I have no surname." A flash of red made Cerlius wince back, but when he opened his eyes and saw the source, a red orb on Lance\'s desk, nothing had changed.

"I understand you may not trust me," Lance said, picking up the orb. "Everything is so sudden. One moment you were at the Knights\' Academy and the next you were here."

Cerlius scanned the room for a weapon and found none. \'Lance might have a dagger under that robe. Although if he\'s like Eric, all he needs are his fists. This man doesn\'t look to be physically strong. I\'ll test the boundaries.\'

Lance seemed to notice Cerlius\'s inquisitive gaze and rolled up his sleeves: "I assure you I have no intensions of harming you unless you somehow provoke me. Some students tend to be violent after they wake up. It might be due to the unpredictability of the spell but someone always tries to attack me. Happens every year."

"Is that how you got that?" Cerlius pointed to the scar going down from Lance\'s three-fingered hand, traveling up the arm and disappearing in the darkness of his robe.

"That was not a student." Lance said as he hurriedly covered the scar. The orb lit up a brighter red. "W-well…" Lance let out a nervous chuckle. "At the time she wasn\'t a student." The orb went dim. "She didn\'t know what she was doing. That incident was the reason why the academy is now overseen by watchmen."

"What are watchmen?" Cerlius asked, wondering if he could get more information if he pried about the scar.

Lance waved a hand. "You\'ll see them in the corridors. Sorry. This conversation led to something outside of procedure. Would you like something to drink?"

"I\'m underaged." Cerlius said, eyeing the bottle that Lance had pulled out of his spatial ring.

The dim artifact went dark, making Lance raise an eyebrow. He unscrewed the cap and the scent of honey filled the air. "This is tea." He took a quick sip. "How old do you think you are?"

"I\'m-"

"Keep in mind," Lance followed up. "This is to confirm what I already know and what you don\'t know. You\'re fifteen by the way, of age to drink, not that I would give you any alcohol. This is a school. Alcohol is forbidden unless your area of magic requires it." He set the drink to the side and grabbed the quill.

"I am seven years old," Cerlius said. Against his theory, the artifact did not light up. \'It seems it will detect lies only if I am certain that I am lying. Good.\'

Lance looked at the artifact, then Cerlius, then scribbled on the paper. "Fascinating. Out of my decades of being an instructor, I\'ve never met someone as distrusting or as investigative as you." The orb lit up, and a bitter smile swept across his lips.

"Is this not on purpose?" Cerlius asked, tilting his head to the side. \'He could be trying to fool me by intentionally lying or he could be manipulating the orb so that it works only when he wants it to. Either that, or he might be a bit inept.\'

"Nope," Lance replied, and the artifact went dark. "It is just a constant reminder." He let out a long sigh and sipped his tea. "I can say that, whatever your past was, it was most likely not one you deserved. If one thing had changed in the past, if someone had done just one tiny thing, maybe you wouldn\'t have adapted such a poor outlook on life. I advise you to be careful that you don\'t question the academy\'s rules. If you break them, you will be punished and maybe killed in some circumstances. Throw away that mentality. It\'s nothing but trouble." He scratched out some lines.

"It was interesting talking to you," Cerlius kept his eyes on the artifact which, to his surprise, had remained dim throughout the lecture. "But I need to know why I am here. I could have learned magic with another\'s help, even if I can only faintly remember them now."

Lance wrote one last thing before setting his quill down and folded his hands together. "Instructors are given two choices when taking students under their wings. I can tell you of the overall situation or I can keep you in the dark. I prefer my disciples to know of their situation. You would never had a choice."

"You were born in the Acrin Kingdom. By order of the king, any and all mages will be sent to the magic academy regardless of standing, gender, or willingness. It\'s because we are special, weapons more deadly than any single knight. Your memories were taken as a prerequisite but something may have gone wrong. The process should have taken memories of people and things that would…get in the way of your focus. It shouldn\'t take away your memory of things like Draken Capital or your name and age."

"If I understand correctly," Cerlius said as he walked over to the desk. "Some fucking human said to forcibly abduct powerful individuals, train them up, and hope to…" he shivered, although he didn\'t know why. "To the goddess that they wouldn\'t turn on the Acrin kingdom. What\'s the catch?"

Lance gave a weary smile before turning to face the window. "It\'s as you say. If that were all, then that would indeed fail. Luckily, there is also another spell, one which ensures that you must act for the good of the academy and the kingdom. It became necessary in order to prevent the development of dark mages."

Cerlius rubbed his chin for a few seconds. "So what about those? Are those also magic academies?" He pointed out the window, to the many buildings on the distance mountain peaks.

"Oh those are-" As soon as Lance leaned towards the window, Cerlius tackled him to the ground and wrapped his hands around his throat. Before Cerlius could apply pressure, a searing pain made him double over and blood poured from his eyes.

Lance coughed as his airway was cleared. A magic circle appeared above the two, and with it came a howling wind which flung Cerlius into the wall with a crack. "You," Lance pointed a shaky finger at him. "You just tried to kill me."

"No," Cerlius groaned, slowly rising to his feet. "I only wanted to test your words." The artifact didn\'t light up, making Lance go pale. Cerlius wiped the blood from his eyes with the blanket. "My memories, will they ever return to me?"

"Not if you keep pulling stunts like that," Lance let his mana fade into thin air. "Trust in the system. If you work hard enough, no matter who you are, you will be rewarded. I\'ll let that action go. You were simply curious. From now on, I am your only teacher. You will be in my class of eleven and compete with other classes and teachers. Most importantly, you will not do that again."

Cerlius went to rub his eyes again but underneath his sleeve, he peeked around. \'There\'s nothing I can use here. I couldn\'t get the bracelet off his arm while he thought I was attacking him. He\'s on guard now so I\'ll throw away that possibility. The window looks viable in terms of escape but it\'s loud, and Lance should be able to use some sort of magic to rein me in. According to him, I have magic. I can trust that fact because I can feel it. There are also some other things I feel, other strange energies that I should learn about before I make a move. I need more information.\'

"Give it a week," Lance said, making Cerlius raise an eyebrow. "That\'s usually when people get impatient. The window is protected by the way. You\'ll only crack your head open. Come," he said, getting to his feet. "It is time for class." He walked past Cerlius, making sure to keep a magic circle up. Cerlius went to follow him but paused. Lance prepared himself to deal with another stunt. "What\'s wrong?"

"This place," Cerlius said, squinting at the ceiling. "Have I been here before?"

"I doubt it," Lance said. "In your past, you were a commoner. It was amazing enough that you were able to become a knight."

"A knight?" Cerlius asked. "Why would I want to be one of those? Does that mean I should know about fighting?"

"If you did," Lance replied. "Forget about it. You don\'t need such abilities here."