CHAPTER NINETEEN: MAYBE I WILL.

"Hey…pick, you serve us or…you die", the young man repeats these words confidently and I cannot help but stare in humour -isn't he a student as well, why would he mention killing?-, he is obviously in our age-grade, dark skinned, about Rave's height with mahogany- brown, spiky hair tied into a neat ponytail, his mischievous black pupiled eyes seems to carry volumes of thought as he stares at me as well, both his ears I observe, are conspicuously lined with dark studs, he smirks at me "What's this all about?" Rave asks rather calmly as he glares at the leader familiarly, the guy chuckles "It's just as you've heard…we're a group of mage students bent on surviving even if it means using our mates as decoy for us to capitalize on the beasts…" he states matter-of-factly, "The name's Sesugh by the way" he adds cheerily, Rave sighs as he suddenly launches a fist, punching his face "Camada come on…we don't have time for this" Rave states casually, as he proceeds to walk away, the leader falls to the floor holding his jaw in pain, "They…die", the leader blurts out the instruction simply, as he glares at Rave murderously, then his followers all simultaneously close in on us, Rave sighs in irritation "Do you really have to make this harder for yourselves?" he states while cracking his neck meditatively, they rush at him, he grits his teeth in irritation "Camada…get behind me, another game has just begun.

**********

THE HOODED ONE'S STORY.

MEMOIR THREE.

It is dusk and as I sit on the mountain top, I gaze at the horizon, the atmosphere is serene, and solace drowns my soul, I inhale the cold air wafting through my body in satisfaction -it is a calm dusk-, suddenly this profound serenity is absolutely shattered by some idiotic yelling and approaching me, "HEY HOOD!" -Fenice-, he comes over and sits beside me on the grass, he silently observes the natural surroundings and then he turns to me, "So this is your happy place huh?" he asks quietly, I shrug "Hey... Hood, don't you sometimes want to be…on top of it all?" he suddenly questions, "Well, you are on top of it, it's just that you're not recognized…" he pauses, briefly looking away "…cause you're a dark-core…" he says this staring deeply into my eyes, "Well is there anything that can be done about it…or rather, will you do anything about it?" I ask sharply, he chuckles and intones "You know…maybe I will, maybe I will…"

END OF MEMOIR.