The month of September slipped by in a blur, and by now, Simon had begun to feel truly at home in Mythaion. He kept up with his studies diligently. In Magic Class, they hadn't moved on to practical spells yet; instead, they were still grounding themselves in the fundamentals—learning about the various branches of magic and their origins.
Their instructor, Master Nort Ermik, was a leopard-headed being, much like Mr. Ox from Kolavanti. While the Master was generally composed, he had a zero-tolerance policy for disruptions. His signature punishment for those who talked or drifted off during his lectures was to suspend them upside down in mid-air using magic. Naturally, Kai's tendency to doze off or chatter cost both him and Simon a fair share of time dangling from the ceiling.
Beyond Kai, Simon had grown close to Toad and Finn as well. Jack remained the outlier—though they were on speaking terms, a noticeable distance lingered between them. Simon understood all too well; it wasn't easy to befriend the son of the man who had killed your uncle. Still, Kai never failed to stir the pot, constantly bickering with Jack only to be the first one to try and make up later. Simon could only watch their antics with a quiet, observant smile.
His relationship with Henry remained stagnant—neither moving forward nor backward. They were mere acquaintances who happened to share a classroom. One thing Simon did notice, however, was that Logan Vermillion was constantly by Henry's side, like a permanent shadow. Still lacking the courage to approach Henry, Simon spent his nights quietly staring at Henry's pen, a small memento of a connection he wasn't yet brave enough to reclaim.
The majority of the school still looked at him with disdain, unable to see past the "Blackburn" name. Physical bullying had ceased, but the whispers and backstabbing comments continued to float through the hallways. Simon was learning to tune them out, focusing instead on the small circle of people who truly cared for him. He realized he couldn't force those who hated or feared him to change their minds. So, he simply kept moving forward, one steady step at a time.
Simon spent every weekend watching the Fyrnic Exigros team practice, meticulously studying the seniors' combat styles and tactical movements. Even Kai had become a familiar face at the training grounds since he followed Simon there every chance he got.
This Saturday, the students were finally granted permission to write home. After a full month of silence, the families of the New-Bloods were undoubtedly anxious. The Dining Hall was filled with students hunched over their parchment, pens scratching away. Kai was busy writing a long, detailed account to his parents, talking mostly about his experiences and his friendship with Simon and Jack.
Simon, however, sat staring at the blank white sheet before him. He had no family to write to. He considered writing to the Grabbys, but he knew they wouldn't bother to read a word of it. Ultimately, he decided to write to the children at the orphanage—specifically to John. If John hadn't been adopted yet, he would surely be the one to read it. Simon wrote to him about staying healthy and listening to Mr. and Mrs. Grabby.
Just then, voices drifted over from a nearby table. It was Oscar and Damien from Kaelen Chamber—Logan's loyal flunkies.
"Oi, Blackburn!"
"Hmm?"
"Who are you writing to? If it's your father, it's less of a 'home letter' and more of a 'prison letter,' isn't it?"
They burst into laughter, and Logan offered a smug smile. Beside him, Henry continued writing, seemingly indifferent to the exchange. Simon's grip on his quill tightened, and he instinctively lowered his head. No matter how hard he tried to be strong, he hated how he still ended up feeling small and vulnerable. But he felt a deep sense of guilt toward Kai, who always stood up for him. Seeing Kai already gearing up to snap back, Simon decided he didn't want his friend to be hated because of him anymore.
He lifted his head, looked Oscar and Damien in the eye, and spoke calmly.
"I'm sending this to the orphanage." There was no malice or sarcasm in his voice—only the quiet, steady truth of his destination.
Oscar and Damien were left speechless by Simon's remarkably calm response. They had fully expected him to shrink away in shame, or for Kai to explode into a violent rage. This level of composure was entirely out of character for the boy they used to pick on. Nearby, Henry's quill paused mid-stroke as he absorbed Simon's words. He stole a brief, subtle glance toward Simon, perhaps noticing the newfound steadiness in the boy's eyes. Logan simply snorted at Simon's behavior, turning his focus back to his own letter with an air of indifference.
"Hmph, whatever man. Pathetic," Oscar muttered under his breath, finally giving up. Their mocking laughter died down as they realized they could no longer get a rise out of him. Kai looked at Simon with pure, unadulterated pride.
"Now that is what you call staying 'Slay'! A total Calmly Slay! Simon, you were absolute fire just now!"
"Um... I don't think that was 'slaying' anything... I just told the truth," Simon muttered, feeling a bit flustered.
"Nah-uh, it was totally 'Slay,' wasn't it, Toad?"
When Kai insisted, Toad nodded in agreement. Even Finn joined in with a supportive nod, making Simon blush with embarrassment.
"Was it... really like that?" Simon asked with a shy smile. Kai nodded so vigorously it looked like his head might pop off.
"To celebrate our little caterpillar Simon transforming into a butterfly, we're going to have extra desserts at lunch today!"
"That makes absolutely no sense," Finn and Toad deadpanned in unison. Kai was busy explaining the "scientific" connection between Simon's butterfly transformation and the need for extra dessert to Finn and Toad. Simon listened with a quiet smile.
Subconsciously, however, his gaze drifted toward Henry, who was sitting not far away.
To his surprise, Henry was already looking back at him. Their eyes locked—a rare moment of connection that had happened only once in the entire month they'd been at school. Henry didn't look away immediately; he held Simon's gaze with that same unreadable, stoic expression. Even that brief moment was enough to send a ripple through Simon's heart.
Finally, Henry lowered his eyes back to his letter, breaking the contact. Simon remained transfixed, staring at Henry until the other boy had completely looked away. To Simon, Henry remained a puzzle, a mysterious boy who still had a strange, lingering pull on his emotions.
October had arrived, bringing with it a noticeable chill in the air. The leaves had turned a brilliant gold, drifting steadily toward the ground. With Halloween just around the corner, the students were already buzzing with excitement, busy preparing for the upcoming party. Meanwhile, Simon was spending his afternoon at the training grounds with Dean. Today, Dean planned to walk him through the intricacies of Exigros—explaining the specific positions of the players, their individual roles, and how the scoring system worked. Dean set down several miniature flags, each a different color, to illustrate his point.
"We are released into the forest where the game takes place. The points for each flag are determined by their color. There are only five Black flags, worth 20 points each. There are ten Green flags at 10 points each, and twenty Yellow flags worth 5 points each. Finally, the White flags are the most common—there are fifty of them, but they only grant 2 points apiece."
Dean looked at Simon significantly. "We have exactly 45 minutes to find those flags. Now, that might sound like a long time, but it really isn't. Between scouting for flags and having to defend yourself if you run into the opposing team, time slips away instantly. And in the midst of all that chaos, you still have to strategize to gather the highest score possible."
Simon nodded along, absorbing every detail. "And what about the Roles?" he asked.
Dean pulled out a large card listing five distinct roles and their corresponding values.
"Roles depend entirely on your skills," he began. "The Captain is worth the most—50 points. They have to be the best at combat, the fastest, and the most efficient at finding flags. You can't take down a Captain easily; that's why the position is so hard to earn. They're worth more than a Black flag."
Simon nodded, realizing just how formidable a Captain must be.
"Then you have the four Core members, worth 25 points each. They aren't quite on the Captain's level in combat and rely heavily on the Seeker. I'm a Core member myself. The Seeker is worth 20 points. They are the eyes of the team, locating the flags for everyone else. They usually stay hidden. If you want to win, you take out the Seeker first. Without them, the team is effectively blind."
Simon made a mental note of that strategy.
"And the last one?"
"The last one is theScrap," Dean said with a small shrug. "Worth 10 points. Their job is to find flags, but if a Core member is about to be eliminated, the Core can choose to swap places with the Scrap. The Scrap doesn't have a say in the matter. It's a lighter role, but honestly, a bit of a sad one."
"The name 'Scrap' is..."
"Yep, it sounds a bit jarring to the ears. But don't worry about it. Our current Captain actually started out as a Scrap before working his way up to the top. So... if you don't want to stay a Scrap for long, you'll need to train hard in the combat class during your second year."
Dean offered the advice with a supportive wink. Simon nodded along, absorbing the information.
"By the way... are we allowed to use magic during the game?"
"Absolutely not. This sport is all about physical strength and stamina. If you use magic, you'll be disqualified immediately. Even the Seeker has to rely solely on the tracking devices approved by the Academy; magic is strictly forbidden. Don't even think about using it by accident—doing so will get you banned from even joining the Exigros training team for good."
Dean's warning was so sharp that it made Simon realize just how grueling Exigros truly was. To have to fight for flags using nothing but physical strength—without a drop of magic sounded absolutely exhausting.
As Dean packed up the equipment, he let out a heavy sigh.
"I don't think I'll have much free time in the coming days."
"Why?" Simon asked.
"The Exigros season is starting in November," Dean explained. "Our Captain is driving us incredibly hard. It's because our very first match is against the Malthen Chamber—the team where our Captain's biggest rival plays."
"The Captain's rival?"
"Yep, Edward Evering. The Evering. He's the leader of Malthen Chamber. He's famous and brilliant at everything—academics, combat, and especially Exigros. Last year, they beat our Fyrnic team decisively. What was worse than the loss itself was that Malthen took home the 'Best Exigros Team' trophy, and Edward spent the whole time mocking our Captain. We were only second best then. The Captain has been fuming ever since, which is why he's pushing us to start training so early."
At the mention of the surname 'Evering,' Henry was the first person who came to Simon's mind. Henry's brother is the leader of Malthen? he wondered. The two brothers were in completely different Chambers—one in Daven, and the other in Malthen.
The letter Simon had sent to the orphanage finally reached John. In his reply, John asked when Simon might return for a visit and mentioned how much the other children missed him. The man who delivered the letter to Simon was the same pale-skinned individual who had brought his admission letter. It was only then that Simon realized this man was actually a "Messenger Pigeon." These beings moved among humans in physical form to deliver mail, only shifting back into pigeons when they took to the skies. It finally made sense why Mr. Grabby had referred to him as a "Pigeon."
Later, in the Common Room, the atmosphere was buzzing. Kai, Finn, and Toad were excitedly discussing their upcoming Halloween costumes, debating what kind of outfits they should ask their parents to send. Simon sat quietly, listening with a soft, bittersweet smile. Unlike the others, he didn't have parents to write to for a costume. Though a pang of loneliness hit him, he found a quiet kind of happiness just being part of his friends' excitement.
Kai looked at Simon, picking up on his friend's hidden melancholy. "I'll tell my dad to order a costume for you too, okay? I'll go as Aragorn, and you can be Legolas or Luke Skywalker! Yeah! Luke!"
Simon looked at Kai's kind face and offered a soft smile—the kind of smile that says, 'Thank you, but I'm okay.'
"It's alright, Kai. Don't order one for me. Just get yours."
"But—"
Before Kai could protest, Lucas arrived carrying a large package. He handed it to Simon, who took it with a look of pure confusion.
"This arrived addressed to you," Lucas said.
Simon looked down. It was a package from an "Anonymous" sender. Kai practically vibrated with excitement, nudging Simon's shoulder. "Open it! Open it up!"
As Simon unwrapped the package, he revealed a round, bright Pumpkin costume. It was a bit dorky, perhaps, but to Simon, it was the most wonderful surprise.
"A pumpkin? Simon, you're seriously going to spend Halloween as a pumpkin? You should've been Luke Skywalker,"
Kai lamented. But Simon just smiled tenderly, his eyes fixed on the fabric. A genuine, radiant smile spread across his face. Amidst the warmth of the gift, he felt a profound sense of gratitude toward whoever had remembered him.
"It's fine... I love this one..," he murmured.
Kai sighed and shook his head while looking at Simon. "Simon, you're just... way too humble. You're so honest and peaceful. Honestly, you should've been a monk."
Toad and Finn nodded in total agreement. Simon could only offer a shy, playful grin. Then, Finn chimed in with a thought-provoking question. "By the way, who do you think sent this to you?"
"I have no idea..."
"Maybe Senior Dean?" Kai suggested. Simon considered it for a moment. If it were Dean, he would likely have handed it over in person. He didn't seem like the type to send something anonymously. Then again, maybe Dean didn't want Simon to feel indebted, so he sent it this way instead.
"I really don't know, Kai. But what I do know is that I'm incredibly grateful to whoever sent it."
"Alright, alright. But man, their taste in costumes is terrible. A pumpkin? Seriously?" Kai teased.
Simon didn't say a word in return. He just looked down at the pumpkin costume in his hands. He didn't care if it was "uncool" or dorky. To him, it didn't matter if he was a pumpkin—what mattered was that he finally had a Halloween costume of his own.