With my parents’ bags and my backpack in the back of our Suburban, we headed off to Halo. The whole ride felt like a walk to execution, and I sullenly watched Downtown Seattle pass by.
Halo Academy was located in the oldest section of Seattle, so I wasn’t surprised that there were zero max trains or cars when we got there. The bumpy streets were covered in potholes, and there were probably more FOR LEASE signs than people, if any chose to live in the miserable town.
“We’re here kiddo,” Dad said as he applied the brakes.
Mom and I stepped out of the car, and gazed at the school. Halo Academy sat underneath a busy road, and a cloud of dust and fog created a thick atmosphere. The school was painted like a globe, with bland blues and greens. The windows were grimy and cracks infested the walls. As if that wasn’t enough, graffiti stained the sign, which was crumbling away. Looking at Halo, I actually began to feel pity towards my principal, which was serious.
“It looks like a dump!” I exclaimed. “Even the ad looks better!”
“It’ll look better once you go inside,” Dad promised, but I detected a hint of doubt in his voice.
“Just give it a chance,” Mom assured. “Maybe you’ll even wish to transfer here once you’re used to it.”
“Fat chance,” I muttered as I walked away from the car.
“Wait!” Mom shouted. “Remember, I will always love you, Reed!”
“We will always love you,” Dad corrected. “We’re not sending you here to torture you. It’s so you can make us proud. And you will!”
“Good-bye!” I shouted sourly.
“See you next week!” they exclaimed as I watched the Suburban drive away. I waved back and slung my backpack over my shoulder. Hesitantly, I grasped the front door’s handle and pulled.
“Welcome hero,” a voice spoke in my head.

I barely had time to think about the voice, because I was greeted by a blinding gold light. My eyes turned into lava when I attempted to open them, so I shut them as hard as they could go. A gust of wind collided into my face, and I felt the ground soften. The sounds of laughter and roaring finally awoke my senses, and I woke up from what felt like eternal naptime.
I realized that the light I saw was actually the blazing sun, radiating the endless grassy field I stood on. A small group of students sat a few yards from me, being lectured by an elaborate swordsman. I heard the sounds of arrows being shot in the nearby woods, which were populated with redwoods that touched the sky. I managed to catch a glimpse of a group of warriors fighting a fire-breathing dragon in the redwoods, but then became distracted by a professor teaching how to lift water at my right.
“Holy crap,” I said to myself.
“Holy crap indeed, Reed Curtis,” a velvety voice said, not the same one I heard before.
I wheeled my head towards the voice and saw an old man. He had a white beard that stretched over his chest and a bald head. He wore a deep purple cloak with a gold sash, and it held a scabbard with a magnificent sword in it. The man had an eye patch made of silver, but I found his other eye more intimidating. Imagine every color in the world, mixed up into a single shade. His eyes were that color.
“Are you alright?” the man asked me. “Did I forget to put out the fire on my beard?”
I shook my head. “Is this really…Halo Academy?”
I regretted asking such a dumb question, but the man let out the heartiest of laughs, and it automatically calmed me down.
“You’re the smartest transfer I know. They usually ask me if I’m Sir Ian McKellen, whoever he is. But yes, this is the real Halo Academy.”
I squinted. “Are you Ian McKellen?”
Once again, the man cracked up, and it was like music to my ears.
“I am already looking forward to your week here. My name is Egarok, and I am the headmaster of Halo.”
“Reed Curtis,” I answered, completely forgetting that he already knew my name.
However, Egarok made no effort to mention my mistake and replied, “Nice to meet you, Reed Curtis. My name is Egarok.”
I grinned and noticed a boy my age running up to us. His messy black hair swayed in the wind, and he had an athletic build. Apparently, he just had a big battle, because his shield had some fresh burns and the sword on his side hissed with smoke. When he was just a few feet away, I saw that he had bright green eyes and was an inch shorter than me.
“This young lad is Jaren Summons,” Egarok pointed at the boy. “He volunteered to share his dorm with you.”
“How’s it goin’ Reed? You like Halo so far?” Jaren asked me, nodding at the woods. I expected him to have a serious attitude, but he seemed alright.
“It’s pretty cool,” I answered. “Thanks for sharing your dorm.”
“No prob, dude.”
“Jaren,” Egarok interrupted. “Can you lead Reed to the cabins? It’s a miracle he can stand straight with that backpack.”
“Sure,” Jaren said. He turned towards me. “Might as well give you a tour while we’re at it.”
We both said good-bye to Egarok, and headed forward.

Jaren wasn’t kidding about a tour. During the next five minutes, he chatted nonstop about the activities, battles, conditions of the restrooms, best armors against a monster, worst armors against a monster, girls, etc.
“So…what school did you come from?” I questioned Jaren as he showed off a squirrel that ate arrows (a Tunsic, I think). At first, he was surprised at my question, but he answered quickly.
“Me? Never went to school,” Jaren said. “Wasn’t allowed to.”
“How? I mean, why?”
Jaren’s green eyes stared into mine. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, it’s probably more interesting than mine.”
Jaren paused for a minute, and I hoped that it wasn’t because he had forgotten to tell which armor was best against girls.
“Give yours a go. Then I’ll tell mine,” he suggested.
I didn’t expect that.
“Er…alright,” I stammered. “Let’s see, I go to Giddeon High School. My mom and dad are chilling in Maui now, for a “work meeting”. We live way up in Downtown. I have a pretty good amount of friends at school. I despise country music and I think Laffy Taffy is pretty genius.”
Jaren chuckled and pulled out his wallet from a secret pocket in his armor. From it, he gave me a photo of a giant white mansion.
“Until I was twelve,” he started as I eyeballed the picture. “I was never able to leave that mansion.”
I guess he saw my confused expression, because he added, “Trust me; you would never want to live in there. My aunt and uncle locked me inside the attic most of the time while I lived there. My cousin sometimes used a meter stick to stab the ceiling while I was sleeping, all night. Whenever they blamed something on me, which they always did, they would shove up their trash into the attic for a few days.”
I felt a drop on the top of my hair. It was sprinkling.
Jaren, however, paid no attention to the weather, and continued.
“They kept the windows barred and the door equipped with an alarm. Three times I tried to escape, and they wouldn’t let me shower or eat for two days. It was torture.”
I glanced back at the picture, and almost wanted to tear it apart into pieces. I imagined Jaren in the attic, all alone.

“Did your parents leave you? I have a friend named Max who has divorced parents.”

Jaren suddenly stopped and looked down, avoiding eye contact.

“I-I’m not sure. Egarok refuses to tell me. All he ever said was that I was born with a prophecy, and that is why they are gone.”

He turned back towards me. “Come to think of it…after he rescued me from the attic, he brought me here to be protected. He knew about my parents, and told me that this year…”

“What?” I questioned.

“…He would reveal those secrets to me,” Jaren finished, looking up at the gray sky.

We walked in silence until we reached the cabins, and I regretted not taking the tour.
Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After what felt like eons of silence, Jaren told me that we were at the cabins, pointing to a tall pole with a shield mounted as a sign. The shield was divided into four sections, each with a painting depicting the traits of a hero. One scene exhibited a hero looking back at his friends and family. The illustration next to it was of the hero walking towards a group of lonely and sad people, and away from the more popular group. Another painting showed the hero staring at the stars, with fire around him. The last scene was the most impressive; it was a picture of the hero running from a light area to a dark area with shadows of monsters and villains.

“Love, compassion, hope, and bravery,” Jaren informed me. “Those are the traits of a hero.”

I nodded at him and went back to admiring the sign. I couldn’t help but think that it was hypnotizing me.

Jaren cleared his throat. “Reed? The cabins.” he reminded me.

“Oh right,” I said, turning away from the shield. I scanned the area, now noticing that we were in the middle of nowhere.

“Er…Jaren? You sure they’re here?”

“No, I guess they took a trip to the Space Needle,” he said sarcastically. He stepped forward and let out a high-pitched whistle.

I could hear loud footsteps thumping towards us. Jaren remained calm while the ground shook, so I stood still and clenched my fists. Just then, some large, giant things materialized through the fog. When they came close enough to see, I almost you-know-what my pants. A cabin made up their bodies, and trees attached to their sides aided in running. One was a log cabin, another was a stone one, and the rest were made of different types of wood. A sprinting stone cabin collapsed in front of Jaren and whimpered down at him.

“Aw, sumwun’s been missing me,” he said as he rubbed the bottom of the cabin’s porch. It whimpered louder and the shades behind its two front windows fell up and down repeatedly.

“Hey, I got a treat for you, big guy. Your favorite.”
The cabin jumped excitedly and a long red rug stuck out of the door. Jaren pulled out a small packet of spicy beef jerky from his pocket, and threw it on the rug. It recoiled back into the house, and threw the packet into the fireplace. Its chimney happily let out a puff of smoke, and the cabin licked Jaren.
“Easy boy,” he chuckled as he brushed a mound of dust bunnies off of his armor. Jaren motioned me to move closer, and I walked up next to him.
“Bert, Reed Curtis. Reed, Bert.” he said. Bert licked me, and I scratched under his porch the same way Jaren did. The chimney let out more puffs of smoke, faster than before.
“Good boy,” I smiled.
“Bert,” Jaren spoke. “May we enter? Reed needs to drop off his bags.”
Bert nodded back, and gently dropped his body to the ground. The other cabins gathered near Bert and followed him. The trees on their sides dug their roots into the ground and straightened back up like normal. Bert’s front door opened wide for us, and a delicious scent came from behind.
“Is…is that hot chocolate?” I asked hopefully.
“C’mon, only one way to find out,” Jaren replied. We walked into the stone cabin, away from the pounding rain.

I thought that Bert’s interior would be all enchanted and fancy, but it looked like any other cabin’s.
“You can just throw your pack right there,” Jaren told me, pointing to a beanbag chair. We were in the living room, which looked pretty neat. A flat-screen TV was positioned in front of a red recliner and a few black beanbags. A piano was near the corner, with a chess table next to it. Taped on the side of the table was a small note that said: BLACK’S TURN NEXT. A bowl of Ruffles was on top of a coffee table next to the recliner, and I snatched a handful.
“Reed, you want something to drink with that?” Jaren reminded, standing at the entrance of the kitchen. With Ruffles in my hand, I went inside and was pleased to see four colorful cups full of hot chocolate on the dining table. I picked up one with monster designs on the side, and I felt something nudge my arm. Jaren was holding a cup that looked like a melting candle, and his arm was extended towards me.
“Cheers,” we said ceremoniously, and took a small sip. The drink warmed my whole body, and the marshmallows tickled my upper lip.
“Man, that’s good,” I exclaimed at Jaren. “What’s in it?”
“Good stuff,” he replied. “It’s Tony’s family recipe. When he comes back, you can ask him.”
Suddenly, the door opened. I heard footsteps walk up the porch and a bag of beef jerky was thrown into the fire.
“Thanks, Bert,” a girl’s voice said. A heavy bag was dropped onto the floor, and we heard her footsteps heading towards the kitchen.
When she stepped inside, I almost spat out the marshmallows in my mouth. The girl was about my age, and she was about half an inch shorter than Jaren. Her dark blond hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she had a light tan. She had a runner’s body, and wore a small white hoodie with gray stripes. Her laced tan boots covered the cuffs of her black jeans. The girl’s hazel-colored eyes trained on me, and I bit my lip nervously.

“Hey,” she smiled slightly. “I’m Brooke. Brooke Mason.”

“Reed Curtis,” I said.

“Have you met Jaren?” she asked, more excitedly.

“How else could I get in here?”

“He’s here?”

She walked past me without an answer and came to the table, where Jaren was sitting.

“What are you doing here?” she playfully shouted at Jaren, putting her hands on her hips.

Jaren wiped off his chocolate mustache. “Chillin’. I’m so glad I don’t have Anton for Spells.”

“Shut up!” Brooke laughed. “Today he just taught us the Invisible Locker Spell. Most useless thing since daylight savings.”

“Or ROTFL.”

“Look, I never really thought about its meaning that much. You just have a dirty mind!”

While they chatted, I quietly slipped out onto the porch and admired the view outside. The cabins were sitting on a grassy pasture next to a waterfall. The sun was up, so a beautiful rainbow formed beneath the falls. I leaned over the railing and looked down the rocky cliff. A forest of tropical trees was at the bottom, and a swarm of colorful fish erupted from the depths. They puffed their bodies into spiky balls and rose up into the air like balloons. A small one hovered up to the railing and eyed me curiously. I stroked its scaly skin and it inflated like a bubble, spinning around as it drifted away. My eyes were glued onto the fish until it became a dot.

A shot was fired behind me, and I saw one of the fish deflate into the tree leaves. Two more booms were heard right after, and a pair of fish crashed to the forest bed.

“Yeah! Get some!” a hoarse voice barked from behind. I wheeled my body around and witnessed possibly the world’s biggest jerk. The boy wore a black leather jacket and dark grey jeans. Flames covered the jacket’s body and sleeves, but it wasn’t being damaged. His light blond hair was spiky like Jaren’s except I could tell he used gel on it. A short gold necklace swung back and forth on his neck.

Unfortunately, the boy caught me staring and tucked his silver pistol in his pocket. He slowly strode over to the porch, his thumbs jutting out of his jeans. It was obvious he was trying to intimidate me, but I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” he sneered. He tried to lean against the railing coolly, but ended up slamming his body hard on.

“You already know,” I said back matter-of-factly.

He noticed that he was an inch taller than me, and lifted me by the collar. His blue eyes turned black, and the flames of his jacket tensed.

“Listen, smart mouth,” he threatened. “I can cream you any time I want.”

“Why don’t you brush your teeth while you’re at it?” I gasped.