The dream always started with the wind.
A young Cedric stood in the tall grass, his hand outstretched. Lucius stood just a few feet away, his white hair whipping across his face in the gale. He didn't look angry. He didn't look sad. He just looked distant.
"I'll be gone for a while," Lucius said.
"Don't go!" Cedric shouted, his voice cracking. "Lucius, wait!"
But his brother didn't wait. He stepped into the wind and vanished like smoke. Before Cedric could move, the air went dead still.
A man stepped out of the white haze. He had slicked-back white hair and a thick, groomed beard. Frameless glasses glinted on his face, hiding his eyes, but his grin was wide and paternal.
"A child of the Montclair lineage, left in the wind? Come, Cedric. I have a place for you."
POW!
Cedric's head snapped to the side as Freya punched him right in the temple.
"Get up, sleepyhead! We're gonna be late for the drop!" Freya yelled. She was already fully geared up, her energy high and chaotic. She didn't wait for him to respond; she just grabbed his arm and yanked him out of bed. "Move it, move it, move it!"
Cedric rubbed his jaw, a wide, genuine grin spreading across his face. He didn't mind the punch—that was just Freya. To him, these people were his siblings. He grabbed his sword and followed her out into the hall.
Zevan was already there, pacing like a caged animal and cracking his knuckles. "Finally. I thought I was gonna have to go in there and drag you out myself. Let's go kill something."
Lyla stood behind him, fidgeting with her sleeve. She gave Cedric a small, shy nod when they made eye contact. "Are you okay, Ced? You looked like you were having a bad dream again."
"I'm good, Lyla," Cedric said, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Just the usual."
Together, the Golden Four walked through the Academy grounds. As they approached the city gates, the crowds began to gather.
"Look, it's the Leader's favorites."
"Is that the Montclair kid? How is he even part of that lineage? He doesn't look like the rest of them."
"I heard the Leader only took him in because of his name."
Cedric didn't let the whispers touch him. He was happy. He had his friends, he had his sword, and he had a mission.
"Don't listen to those idiots," Zevan grunted. "They wouldn't last five seconds in a Chamber."
"Exactly," Freya laughed, throwing an arm around Cedric's neck. "We're the Golden Four. This C-Rank Chamber is gonna be a joke. We'll be back before the sun even sets."
They reached the meadow where the Chamber sat—a small, shimmering tear in the air.
"Alright," Zevan said, drawing his weapon. "First one to draw blood wins. Let's go!"
Cedric followed them into the shimmering light, his heart light and his grip on his sword firm. He had no idea that inside the silence of that Chamber, the masked man was already waiting to take everything away.