John's heart sank. This wasn't anything interesting. It was just a normal scolding, probably one that would turn into a lecture. Sure, it was great that he'd gotten in, but at the moment, the lecture he would receive wasn't worth it.

"You may be skilled, but your talent is nowhere near what I was looking for. There were at least a dozen applicants who could've taken your place. But they didn't. I chose, of all people, you."

John's nerves were jumping as he followed the Mystic into another room nearby. The place immediately struck him as some kind of noble's room. Candles sat in gold candlestands, lit with blue flames. Light gleamed off the gold leaf coating the intricately carved tables, which in turn sat on deep, fluffy animal hide carpets. Red velvet cushioned chairs sat around the room, made so well that John could've mistaken them for the throne of a lesser king.

Lupin indicated for John to sit at a table with a tea set, seemingly made of fine china, painted with a deep hue of blue.

"Would you like a cup?" the Mystic inquired politely.

"...it's tea, right?" John replied hesitantly.

"Yes."

"Um. Yes, please."

The old man slowly poured a cup of the fragrant drink into the cup. The liquid was a light pink, with bits of petals floating around in the tea.

"This is goldenrose tea. Its true properties are unknown, but it has been said to have a calming effect."

John took the cup, staring at the contents inside.

"...thanks."

He wasn't sure what to say. Was the Mystic trying to intimidate him? If so, why give John a drink to calm him down?

Was the old man going to get to the point?

"John Quarta," Lupin started, stirring his own cup of tea. "I hope you were aware that I was observing you, to the point where I decided to intervene and test you personally."

"Yeah," John nodded. "That was really cool."

"I see your attitude is the same as always."

"Again, how do you want me to act? Just let me know. Until then, I'll be saying what I want."

Lupin just sighed. "No matter. I called you here to tell you something."

John's ears perked up. The old man wanted to share something with him. Him? Not Destiny?

Lupin cleared his throat. "You should not have gotten in."

"Um… thanks?"

John was confused. He agreed that, realistically, he shouldn't have gotten in. He just thought his fight had been enough to convince the professors that he was secretly super talented. Well, not really, but something like that. But here he was, sitting in front of the professor who was actively telling him he shouldn't have made it. There was no way the [Author] had done such an asspull that the Mystic was going to let John in for no reason at all, right?

"There is one reason, and one reason only, that you are here." Lupin stared into John's eyes. "That would be your lack of fear."

"...what?" John frowned.

"The fear of death. It haunts us all. No matter how much one trains, one cannot truly erase the primal instinct of survival. It is what drives us. Only those who have given up on life can truly press on with no fear. But those who have done so are haunted by something dreadful. You, as far as I can tell, are not. And yet you do not fear death. In that aspect, you are unique."

"What?" John protested. "What about soldiers who charge into battle? Warriors who take on impossible fights?"

Lupin shook his head. "That is not the same. Their fear of death is simply swamped by their desire for something else. A love for family, for country, for an ideal. They are still afraid, but their desire overcomes that. You, on the other hand, had no such desire. You were fighting as if it were a chore, as if you were seeking amusement. And yet you remained unafraid."

"I- uh-"

"You are not here because I believe you to be a generational fighter. Do not mistake my words. I am calling you here to let you know, as a warning."

Lupin looked John dead in the eyes, and at that moment, John truly felt the presence of a hunter. The wolf in Lupin was stronger than the human form he was currently wearing, and the Mystic wasn't afraid to let John know who was predator and who was prey.

"Should you slip up in any way. Should I ever stop paying attention to you. You will immediately be expelled from this academy. There will be no second chances. Do you understand?"

John just frowned. "...you called me here to say that?"

"Is that all you have to say?"

"No, it's just… I don't know. It doesn't really seem like you particularly like me. And you don't give special chances to people you don't like. So what's up?"

The old man let a smile slip through.

"I see you are not entirely stupid. I do not hate you, child. And perhaps my judgment of you is wrong, although I severely doubt it. Perhaps you are a hidden talent beyond any of our minds. I am calling you to inform you that your entrance was granted as a privilege, and that privilege can be revoked at any time. It was neither a threat nor a gift. I was simply stating the facts so that you may be aware of them."

John was stunned. Although the old man seemed quite crabby, he seemed to be the secretive, soft sort instead.

"...thank you."

The gratitude from John was genuine. The old man didn't seem like a bad person.

"You may go now. And, perhaps, if I might suggest? Learn a few things before coming back. I'd hate to see you gone before you even start."

~~~

Danjo had left by boat to return to the village, leaving with a fond farewell. Destiny and the others went through the portal they'd come through, finding themselves back in the Elven capital. Celeste was immediately taken by carriage to the castle with good news for her parents, but Destiny and the others would walk back to the Windwalker house.

"Seriously, though. Is that all that happened?" Destiny frowned.

John just shrugged. "I told you, he just said that I'm weak and that I need to watch myself."

"They wouldn't have called you for just that," Destiny protested.

"I mean, that's basically all that happened. Really. Why would I lie about that?"

Destiny shrugged. "It just seems odd. A Mystic called you to give you a simple warning about school? It's just, knowing you..."

"Trust me, Destiny. There's only one thing I'd ever lie about, and it's not gonna be this."

"...there's one thing you'd lie about?" Destiny said hesitantly.

"Well, yeah. What, do you think I'm a fountain of truth? A pioneer of purity? A beacon of virtue?"

"Got it."

Destiny seemed disappointed for even trying to ask.

"So, what now?"

"Well… I don't know," John shrugged. "Whatever we want, right?"

"You never had any intention to train, right? Just wanted to get that out of the way."

"I'm just here for Prota. Seriously, I'd rather not go to school for the billionth time. It's the same shit every single time."

"...I don't even know what to say with that. It's your funeral, I guess."

Their conversation was cut short as Destiny's father came barreling out of the house, wrapping him up in a giant hug. The ladies came out in a much calmer fashion, but there was a palpable excitement in the air.

"You made it, right?" Hart said, smiling.

"Of course."

"That's my little brother. I never doubted you for a second."

The family celebrated cheerfully, leaving John and Prota to feel like third wheels. That didn't mean they lacked respect, though, and they tastefully moved to the side to leave them to their own celebration.

"Hey. Just to make sure," John muttered. "You remember the whole point of this, right? It's been over a year, but…"

"...nn."

Despite the cheerful scene in front of them, there was always that sober reminder of what they were fighting for. The Demon King had taken away a valuable tool from them not too long ago, a stark reminder that they'd have to stay on their toes.

"Doctor was strong. But there's always going to be stronger people. You remember what happened to us."

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Prota knew she was still lacking. Forget facing off against Doctor; even someone like Hart was a goal to aim for. Even further were Mystics, and even a dragon, supposedly the originator of her abilities. No matter how strong she thought she was, there were always those who would be stronger. And if John was going to involve himself in fights, then that just meant that she had to work even harder to protect him.

"But at the same time… well, it's not too bad to have a little fun," John said, a smile slipping onto his face.

"John's only point is to have fun," Prota mumbled.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Prota just looked away. "Lazy."

"H- hey!"

~~~

Despite Prota's words, John spent the next few months doing nothing. He read. He did some research, to his credit, looking into various things that might be useful. The issue was that there was simply nothing for him to do.

Lupin had told him to train, but what did that look like? There was nothing for him to train. Practicing a martial art wouldn't do him any good, not against people with mana. There was just no point.

Prota, on the other hand, was almost overwhelmed with things to do. Her current arsenal of skills was vast: fast reaction times, a strong battle instinct, the ability to sense mana, efficient mana usage, and chantless casting, all of which were incredibly useful and unique.

Despite all of that, something still felt off.

That something was a variety of spells. Although her range of magic was diverse, most of her spells were still at the first to second circle. Fireballs, icicles, and ice walls were all very nice, but even if they were more powerful than normal, they were still at a very rudimentary level. No matter how fast one is at addition, they will never solve a more complex problem unless they are taught the proper formulas. Kit especially drilled this into her head.

So she trained. And trained. And continued to train.

Time flew by. Even though it was a whole two months, it hadn't felt like it. A few days before they were to go back, the Windwalker family threw a small party for the students who'd be going to Scholaris.

"Congratulations!"

Destiny's father blew on a party streamer, something that apparently existed in this world, as his mother carried a cake into the dining room.

"Wh- what's all this?" Destiny said, shocked as balloons filled the room.

"Destiny. My boy," Allen said, getting down on one knee. Destiny waited for some deep speech, but his father just grinned like a fool. "What's wrong with an excuse for a celebration?"

"But Hart didn't-"

"It was my idea." Hart smiled at him warmly. "Des. I know you had a hard time the past year. Isn't it fair that you get something in return?"

"Guys, I-" Destiny started, then choked up.

The family gathered together, embracing each other in a warm hug.

"...John?"

Prota looked up at her brother, who had a strange smile.

"It's good to see," John said quietly, putting his hand on Prota's head. "That they're happy."

She turned to him with a look of confusion.

"There are tons of stories where the protagonist lives a life of nothing but suffering. It's not a bad backstory, to be honest, but if you ever think of them as "real people," well, it would suck balls. So… you know. It's not bad to see someone with a happy family."

"John-"

"No. I had a family multiple times," he said with a sigh. "It's not worth it anymore."

He pulled a fancy bottle out of his dimensional storage and flipped it in his hands.

"Well, no point in being all gloomy and shit. Celebration calls for a good drink, right?"

"...what is it?" Prota said, a little concerned.

"Mystery juice."

"Mystery… juice?"

"You don't want it," John assured her.

He wasn't really a drinker, partially because he couldn't get drunk, but also because he wasn't particularly fond of alcohol. This drink, however, was able to get him tipsy in just a few sips. He took a glass off the table and poured himself a cup, then downed it all in one go.

"Ah, you brought drinks?" Allen said, hearing the cork pop. "Say, aren't you a little-"

"You… ah… don't want any of this," John said, already feeling a little off. "It's a little strong."

"I can hold my liquor-" the big man started, but his wife quickly put an end to that.

"You," Haze said coldly, "will not be drinking tonight."

"...yes, honey."

The servants started coming out, serving dishes of food, but as Haze was busy directing them around, John stumbled over to Allen.

"If you want a glass later, I can let you try. It's reealllly strong, though," he mumbled.

Alan grinned. "You're a good man."

The meal wasn't like the one John and Prota had when they'd first come to the Windwalker house. It was loud, cheerful, and messy. Even Haze, despite her icy appearance, was smiling warmly. The group was sharing stories, laughing, embarrassing each other, and to Prota's surprise, John was laughing quite genuinely, smiling with his flushed cheeks and messy hair.

She got a glimpse of the real him. He was a lot like Zero, which felt a little strange. His laugh was loud and raucous, his smile stretching from ear to ear. He was constantly joking around, throwing out quips and insults, but they felt so much more lively than usual.

It was as if he were normally a sketch of his former self. Just black and white, drawn with a pencil, lacking the colour and vibrancy that was meant to be there.

A few hours later, the meal was coming to a close. Everyone was getting tired, and one by one, they headed off to bed, leaving the servants behind to clean up the mess. John excused himself and went outside, going to the porch outside the kitchen.

With a deep sigh, he sank into the cushions, pulling the bottle out again. He looked at it with empty eyes before tossing it back into his pocket dimension.

"...what do you want?" he called out.

A rustle of grass announced Prota's arrival. She got into the chair next to him, looking up at the stars alongside her brother.

"John… what are you doing?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm getting drunk," John mumbled.

"John doesn't drink," Prota pointed out. "You don't get drunk. That drink… is special?"

"Yeah? It sure is." He was too tipsy to come up with a convincing argument. "What about it?"

"Why?"

"...why, what?"

"Why did John do it?"

"Why does anyone drink?" he laughed, slurring over his words. "It's so I can forget about this shitshow of a world, right? I mean, if I just pretend that I'm a character, that all of this is real, then it's not so bad, right?"

"...but John said he can remove his memories. Why don't you just do that?"

"Because…"

He trailed off, leaving the answer unfinished. Without another word, Prota crawled into his chair and sat on his lap. It was clear John was uncomfortable, but he didn't push her away, either.

"Prota. They'll probably die, you know," he said, his voice a little more subdued.

Prota tilted her head, confused.

"Destiny's parents. They'll probably die. One of them, at the very least. Or maybe his sister. I don't know. But it'll be someone close to him."

"Like Olivia?"

"Yeah." John looked out into the sky. "Like Olivia."

Prota thought back to the scene she'd just witnessed. A bright and cheerful family, one that truly harboured love for one another. What would happen if it were ripped apart? If one of them were to fall, if one of them were to be torn away from the others?

"What do I do, Prota? Do I try to stop it? Can I stop it? Is there even a point?

John laughed drunkenly.

"Ah, why am I-"

"John said no more sad endings. You want to stop it. Right?"

John paused, surprised. "I-"

"If John wants to stop it, then he should stop it. John… are you scared?"

A shudder ran through his body. Scared? Was he scared? What could he possibly be scared of?

"You don't need to be scared. Because… You have me."

Another shudder ran through his spine, sending electricity through his veins. It was enough to snap him out of his drunken haze and into sobriety. Right, this wasn't really alcohol. Just a drink that could get him drunk if he so chose, and now, he didn't want to be drunk anymore. He'd just heard something amazing.

Prota, of all people, was telling him not to be scared. That had to mean something, right?

"Yeah." John closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands, trying to hide his smile. "I've got you. That's enough, isn't it?"

~~~

The next day, Haze led the future students to the royal castle. John wasn't sure what was happening, but Destiny seemed excited, so it probably wasn't anything bad. They wandered through an older section of the halls all the way to an old, rotting wooden door. A guard stood outside, although, as far as John could tell, the place wasn't really secure anyway.

"Is she in?" Haze asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good."

The king's bodyguard rapped on the door twice, then stepped back as if she were respecting whatever was inside. A minute later, the door opened with a creak.

"In you go," Haze said, motioning for them to go in.

"Not you?" John said, getting a little concerned.

"She only reads fortunes once."

John frowned.

"...fortunes?"

He had a bad feeling about this.

They walked in, and the door closed behind them. The place was like a little cove of sorts, with bookshelves lining the walls and a small but functioning kitchen in the corner. A bed sat on the other side of the room, and there was a door that seemed to lead to a washroom. Most of the place, however, was filled by a low table with a singular candle resting on top. A fireplace sat at the back of the room, the fire inside the only thing lighting the place up.

"Ah, you've arrived."

An old, wrinkled elf came out from the shadows, a cane helping her hobble her way forward. Her voice sounded as old and decrepit as her appearance. With saggy cheeks, a mouth without teeth, white wrinkled hair, a hunched back and old rags, she looked like it would take but a gust of wind to knock her down.

"Come, younglings, come."

"Thank you, madam. It is a great honour," Destiny said, bowing.

"Ah, yes, yes. You first, young halfling. Come, sit at the table."

Destiny nodded, folding his legs under him as he sat on the cushion. The only sound was the crackling of the fire.

"...should we leave, or something?" John frowned.

"Ah, you know everything about him already, do you not?" the old elf said. "Stay, stay. There is no point in you leaving."

This didn't make John feel any better.

"...what the fuck?"

The old elf ignored him after that, focused solely on Destiny. She pulled out a bag and extracted some sticks, some cards, a few leaves and a handful of bones John didn't recognize. She hummed a tune of sorts, and the items on the table began to move on their own. Prota was alarmed, holding onto John's arm, but neither he nor Destiny seemed to be scared. The light of the flames suddenly darkened, a sort of wind picking up in the room around them.

Suddenly, the woman's eyes shot open, but instead of pupils, they were filled with light.

"You walk a lonely path. But the end of that path is filled with loved ones. You must ensure that you do not stray, lest you lose what you aim for. Oh, lonely hero, you aim to bear the burden of the world on your own. Trust in your comrades, for they will keep you steady. And beware the end of the world, for you will be the one to save it."

A singular card came out of the deck and flipped face up.

"You, the hanged man, will sacrifice yourself for the world. But will the world sacrifice itself for you?"

Suddenly, the light in the woman's eyes died down, and the tension in the room vanished.

"...thank you, madam Vespera."

"I pity you, young man," the woman said quietly. "The path you walk may be lonely at times. But hold fast to your beliefs, lest you waver in them and lose your convictions."

Destiny got up, looking at John and Prota.

"Well, good luck, guys."

John nodded as Destiny left the room.

"Young girl. You next."

Prota was scared, but she did as she was told and sat on the cushion Destiny had just been sitting on. The wind picked up again, the bones and sticks rattling on the table in front of her.

"You… have suffered incredible pain. Incredible loneliness. And there may be more in the future. But your suffering will only be as great as you let it be. A deep, potential power rests inside of you. You may be the saviour of the world or the one who harbours its doom. But when that day comes, I hope you remember those who truly loved you."

Once again, a card came out of the deck. A woman was kneeling with one foot in a pond, the other on land, one large star and several small ones sitting above her head.

"You, the star, have been abandoned. Have lost much. The thief comes at night, and the thief takes all. But there is hope in your future yet, little one. So follow the light in the sky that leads you."

Prota sat, shaken to her core. She hadn't expected something like this, not from anyone other than John. Getting up, she nodded as a form of thanks before returning to John.

"So what now?" John said hesitantly.

The woman looked at John, tilting her head to the side.

"You… well, I suppose it is worth a try."

"What do you mean, worth a try?"

"I cannot see you. You… are like a clouded window. I cannot see into your future. But I may as well try. After all, this was a request given to me by some I consider precious."

John hesitantly sat down. How much would be revealed? He hadn't known what he was getting into, only that Haze had told him this was a rare opportunity. He wasn't particularly fond of what was going on here. In fact, he wasn't fond of fortune-telling in the first place. It was cool, sure, but unless there was some kind of defying fate involved, the prophecies would always come true. After all, it was the [Author] who created the prophecy and the [Author] who created the [Story].

He also simply disliked fortune-telling.

The elf closed her eyes, going through her rituals a third time, but as time passed, she began to frown. Something was wrong. Just like before, the wind started to pick up, but it didn't calm down. Instead, it got stronger. And stronger. The fire pit burst into an explosion of flames before snuffing out like a candle, items being thrown around the room violently as the wind grew more and more powerful.

"Enough!" Vespera cried out, and the storm stopped.

She looked at John, fear filling her eyes.

"You… who are you?"

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