The stench of smoke and burnt bread wafts through the room. It reminds me of the first time I ever tried to cook something. It was a disaster that led to us having to sleep outside for a couple of days while the house was aired out. Even then, the house still smelled of smoke for the next month… That really was a long time ago.

  Pulling myself out of my mind, I look down at Garus.

  “What do you want?” he asks between coughs.

  “Can a friend not come and check on his friend after a great battle?” I ask as I place a bag next to him.

  “They can, but don’t you have something better to do?”

  Scratching my horn, I think. “Well, I guess I could be watching our classmates' duels, but Penelope and Hopper have that covered, so here I am.”

  “I was wondering where they were. The three of you are usually attached to the hip,” he says with a small hint of relief.

  A faint smile crosses my lips. “So, how are you?”

  “I’m fine. A couple of cuts and bruises that they healed up. The only thing I have to worry about is the damage from the smoke inhalation, but even that will go away in a couple of hours,” he says in a clinical manner.

  “Hmm. Well, it’s good to see you're going to be fine, but that’s not what I was asking,” I say as I take the small cake out of the bag.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Before, when you said that you could beat Abigail. I could tell it wasn’t just about beating her. I couldn’t tell exactly what the problem was, but it seemed like it was eating you up inside. So, are you fine?”

  Garus looks me in the eyes before letting out a small laugh. “Yeah, I feel better. I’m not all the way there, but I feel… better. You know, you were right. I did hate how weak I felt, and I was taking it out on you.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m sorry about that. I was a bit on edge that day. I-”

  “No. I’m actually thankful. What you said was harsh, but it was the truth. A truth I had known for a long time, but I wouldn’t confront it. I was scared of confronting it. People have wanted to use me for a long time, and I thought if I ignored it, it wouldn’t be true. A childish idea, but it was the only one I had,” he slowly says, growing quieter as he does.

  I let out a sigh as I cut a piece of cake and hand it to him. “You were a child. Hells we're still children. It’s okay for us to have childish ideas. Now have some cake. It’s lemon flavored.”

  “How did you know it was my favorite?” he asks as he takes a bite.

  “Penelope. She said you always used to rave about it when you were younger and that one time you ate so much of it you threw up all over the Imperial Pastry Chef,” I explain.

  Garus stops and lets out a small laugh. “We were nine. How did she remember that?”

  “We remember the things that are important to us. Maybe those times were important to her,” I say as I take a slice of the lemon cake.

  “Those were good times. …Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything. We are friends after all, but if it has to do with my secret cooking recipes, I’ll have to decline to answer,” I joke.

  “Why do you consider me a friend? I’m not a good person, and I’m abrasive, and it’s not like you’d get anything out of the friendship. So, why do you consider me a friend?” he asks with a hint of fear.

  I tilt my head in confusion. “Because I do.”

  “That’s not really an answer.”

  “It’s the answer you’re going to get,” I say with a devilish smile.

  “You’re frustrating. I don’t know how the Princess puts up with you,” he says as doubt clouds his eyes.

  “Oh, she doesn’t. Listen, I don’t choose my friends for any grand reason like money or power. If I had to give a reason for what exactly I’m looking for, well, actually, it’s more a lack of something. My friends are those who haven’t allowed hate to fully take over. When I met you, I knew that was the case,” I say as I get up.

  “I… I was going to beat you until you left the school,” he reminds me.

  With a devilish smile, I nod. “You were, but you weren’t going to kill me. It may be a low bar, but it’s one that I care about. I’m going to leave you to rest now. I have some things to do. See you later, Friend.”

  As I open the door, I hear him whisper. “Yeah, you too, ...CJ.”

  Entering the arena, I look down at the fighting pit to find it filled with water. Guess they already started. Loosening my tie, I watch as Derek the cheater fires off wave after wave of water magic. Viola quickly uses her paint magic to create shields that only grow stronger when mixed with water.

  “What took you so long?” Penelope asks as she stands next to me.

  “Had to do some things. How’s it going here?”

  “As we expected. Viola has been running circles around Derek,” she explains.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Derek angrily fires off a large wave that slams harmlessly against Viola's shield. She then takes the dredges of the magic and paints a small volley of lances that fire towards him.

  “I’ll never get used to her magic. To think she can create anything she can paint.”

  “Well, yes and no. Viola’s paint magic is versatile, but it requires an immense amount of talent and a large mana pool to actually use. Normally, she wouldn’t be able to perform like this, but it seems that she’s using the magic in the water to compensate for the high mana cost. I would be surprised if she’s using any of her MP at the moment,” she rattles off.

  “Hmm. Good thing Derek is far too distracted to realize that. Guess that trip to get the pure spring water didn’t fix his relationship with Regina,” I say with a devilish smile.

  “I still don’t know how I feel about what you did,” she grumbles.

  “Says the person who helped me do it,” I retort.

  “You forced me to help you.”

  “Ah, yes, I forced the great and powerful Penelope to do something she didn’t want to do. This must be a feat that will be remembered for ages,” I say sarcastically.

  Penelope rolls her eyes. “I think they’re finishing up.”

  Derek fights to catch his breath as he struggles to send another wave. Viola drops her shield and paints it into multiple shards of glass. The subsequent attack finishes Derek off.

  Vivi’s voice booms through the arena. “We have a Winner!! Viola Violet has scored another victory for the first years! Could this be the comeback we were waiting for?!”

  “Seems things are going according to plan. I’m going to head in for the day. Are you going to stay and watch?” I ask.

  “Yeah. A couple of the lower-ranked first years have some duels today. I want to see how they’re doing,” Penelope says.

  “Alright, by the way, where’s Hopper?” I ask.

  “Where do you think?”

  “Ah, consorting with the enemy, I see. Speaking of, when are you planning to challenge Luna?”

  “The day after tomorrow. You?”

  “Probably thirty seconds from now.”

  “What?”

  “I see that you’re in good spirits,” Tristan says as he walks up on us.

  “It’s good to see you, Tristan,” I [Lie].

  “And I you. I assume this is your work,” he says, gesturing to the score.

  “Of course not. It’s the hard work of my fellow classmates and Penelope.”

  “That implies that I don’t work hard,” Penelope says.

  “You can struggle all you want, but the first years aren’t going to win this Class War. I would suggest you give up now,” he says.

  “Not to be blunt, but this sounds like you’re scared of losing,” I say as I lean on the railing.

  “Scared? I was just trying to save you from the disappointment of trying to win,” he also leans on the railing, “but if you really want to try to win. Why don’t you accept my cha-”

  Suddenly, he slips on the railing he was leaning on and promptly finds himself falling into the fighting pit. Tristan bobs in the water.

  “Is he… unconscious?” I ask.

  “Surely not. He’s the second years Rank 1. A fall like that shouldn’t even scratch him,” Penelope says.

  Bubbles appear in the water as he continues to float face down in the water.

  “Penelope, I think he’s drowning. Shouldn’t we do something?” I ask.

  “No, surely this is some sort of tactic of his to catch us off guard or… something like that,” she says.

  The bubbles slow until they disappear. Suddenly, one of the custodial staff jumps off the edge and fishes him out of the water. They then hit him hard on the back, waking him.

  Tristan coughs up water as he fights to breathe.

  “Are you okay?!” I shout down at him.

  “Your dastardly tactics won’t work on me, Chosen One. Trying to take me out before the duel even begins. How cowardly of you,” he accuses.

  Penelope turns to me and whispers, “Did you actually do that?”

  “What, no!? Why would you think that? He obviously slipped and fell,” I say with a lot of confusion.

  “Well, I’ve seen you do crazier things for less,” she says.

  “Like what?”

  “I once saw you disguise yourself as one of the cafeteria staff just so you could figure out what the recipe was for one of their dishes,” she whispers.

  “What are you talking about? That wasn’t me,” I [Lie].

  Tristan gets back up with the help of the staff. “Are the two of you done ignoring me?”

  “Not quite. Give us a second. Even if that was me, and I’m not saying it was. I would’ve only done that because the cafeteria staff wouldn’t give me the recipe even though I asked nicely,” I whisper to her.

  “Sure, Charlatan. I’m sure that excuses the use of a [Skill] for petty things. A [Skill] that I’ve said you should be careful when using,” she reminds.

  “A cooking recipe is not something petty. I don’t want to hear about cooking being petty from someone who can’t even cook.”

  “I could cook if I wanted to. I just… don’t for good reasons,” she lies through her teeth.

  “Enough! I will not be ignored any longer. Chosen One, I challenge you to a duel!” Tristan yells rudely.

  “First of all, rude. We were having a conversation. Second of all, do you really want to have our duel now?” I ask.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I mean, wouldn’t you want our duel to be the last one. It’d be far more exciting that way. It is Rank 1 vs. Rank 1 after all,” I say with a devilish smile.

  Penelope nudges me. “Shared Rank 1,” she whispers.

  “Not now,” I whisper back.

  Tristan thinks it over. “That does make sense. Our duel will be the most interesting one after all. I guess we could schedule it to be the last one.”

  “As it should be. That was a great idea you had, Tristan. Well, I guess we will have our duel later,” I say as I slowly slip out of the conversation.

  “That was my idea. Wait! That wasn’t my idea!”

  Penelope face palms.