"The DCT is near. Two more days to go," Emile rememinded Charlie and Ermand, handing them a thick book of spells. "They're kind of advanced but very handy."

Charlie and Ermand had been engrossed in the book, trying to learn the best and the easiest of spells they could find. Meanwhile, their rival, Alfreda Trainor has gained her Aslehm but none knew what her Aslehm was except for the Professors. She was always a woman who hated being with people, she mostly spent her time alone. The boys were amused about what fears she might've overcome. She had also passed without the slightest scratch on her in the second DCT.

There were a total of twenty-eight students waiting for their final DCT. Each and everyone of them were trying to keep away the negative thoughts and focus on ways to survive and finish the test.

One day, Professor Spears rushed into their classroom.

"Students who haven't completed their DCT, please assemble immediately in the Trainor's hall," she said.

"Ermand," Charlie pulled him from behind. "I've mixed the Preparer along with this piece of bread. Hide it in your pocket, now."

Ermand was surprised at Charlie's words. However, he did as Charlie told and quietly followed the Professor to the Trainor's hall. As they entered the hall, it looked like a post war battlefield. Twenty eight equal sized burrows were dug on the floor while the Professors stood at the edge of the wall opposite to the students.

"All of you, crawl down into any of the burrows when I call your names," Professor Qorder said, brushing his palm against his tuft of hair and staring at the parchment in one of his hands.

"Duxter Estrel."

"Hey, you know what a Preparer does, right?" Charlie whispered.

"No."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Are you indeed the brother of Jackson Chisel?"

"Tell me."

"Okay, when you eat the bread. Another copy of your body is formed, that is, both of your bodies function differently at the same time although you mostly control the new you. It is called a para-individual. You're getting me right?"

Ermand responded immediately with a nod. "I know what's a Para-individual."

"Good. The new you is completely invisible except for you. With this, you can actually find your crystal without being caught by any beasts while hiding your other body somewhere safe-"

"Charles Daller."

Both of them gasped as Charlie's name was uttered by Professor Oscar Qorder. Charlie strolled to one of the burrows straight to him and crawled inside after giving a curt nod to Ermand.

"Ermand Chisel."

Ermand gulped and drew a long breath. He walked to the burrow that was far away from the glance of the Professors. He observed the hole before inserting his leg inside it. The sides of the burrow were covered with straws. Ermand pushed down his lower part of the body by giving force with his hands that were gripped on either side of the hole.

When his head was completely in the burrow, he felt as if there were no enclosure around his legs. The burrow seemed like an outlet from whatever part of the world he would be entering. Ermand brought his hands close to his body to slide his body downward. He fell onto a gravel ground, causing his legs to be bruised.

Ermand rubbed his contused ankle and later took a wide observation of where he had landed into. The place seemed like a peaceful village. There were houses with thatched roofs and wood fences that would separate each house. Most of the farming fields were empty. Ermand guessed he must be in some other place than Tawarn since it is spring there while the warm winds that hit his face sang that it was summer time.

"What is your name, dear?" An old and weak voice asked him from behind, causing Ermand to gasp and turn his head in a split second that his movement almost pained his neck.

"Who-who are you?" Ermand asked, shook. The shock hadn't escaped from him still.

The lady laughed and placed the wooden bucketful of water on the ground. She wore a worn out, white gown with patches of dirt here and there and nothing else. Her feet were barefoot and dirty while her unkempt hair danced in the warm breeze that acted as the only medium of sound lingering between them except for the sounds of Ermand and the woman.

"I thought there would be terrifying beasts," he muttered to himself.

"I am Rottella the Water carrier. You?" She asked with the only and broken teeth that could be seen in her mouth.

What should I call myself?

"I'm Ermand Chisel the Spellcaster."

"Spellcaster?" A wide grin appeared on the woman's sweaty face.

Ermand gave her a nervous smile. He didn't understand the idea of the Professors behind this.

What was the test actually?

"Ah..." The woman moaned, falling on her knees. "Help me, boy. I'm feeling dizzy."

Ermand doubted if he should ever help that woman. He's in the DCT and this could be some sort of trap. However, he decided to help the old woman. When he got closer to her, Jack's words rang in his head.

The Ficklefolks.

Ermand dragged his hand from his own reach toward the woman.

"Are you a Ficklefolk?" He asked, preparing himself anytime to run.

The woman started crying then. She rubbed her eyes and drenched herself with the water in the bucket. Ermand doubted if the woman was insane.

"Ficklefolks aren't as bad as they tell you, my boy. Those ruthless hoaxer Protectors had defeated the good-willed people through cheating and named our poor people as Ficklefolks the dangerous," She cried, tears streamed down her eyes as a fast flowing river.

"How am I supposed to believe that?"

"How did you believe the story the Protectors told you?"

Ermand didn't have an immediate answer to the woman's question. He began to doubt if Jack's words were just misconceptions and unfair just like the way the great Spellcasters in history believed that people should be divided into different segments in society based on birth and privilege.

"I can't get up, my son. H-help me..." The woman whined, trying to get up even after she failed to do the same a few times.

"Wait, I'll help you," Ermand said, walking toward the woman and holding her wrinkled and weak arms.

The next thing he saw was the scary face of the woman. She grabbed ahold of Ermand's arms, her long fingernails plunged deep into his flesh through the silk cloth, leaving little prints of blood on it. Her lips widened into a devilish grin while the ends of her teeth grew like the fangs of a snake. Ermand's eye contact with the blood red eyes of the woman made him feel dizzy and weak all of a sudden. He fell on his knees as if he had run a hundred miles.

The woman cackled like a wicked witch and pulled out her fingernails from his arms. He traced her fingers over his throat and brushed her thumb across his Adam's apple.

"All it requires is just a thrust of my thumb deep inside," she cackled again. "But I need more of you, Ermand Chisel the Spellcaster. It's been a while since we barely caught sight of a Spellcaster, especially one young and fit as you."

Ermand tried running, but he could barely lift his hands as his body met the floor with a thump.

She tied both of his hands with the vines she tied across the handle of the empty wooden bucket near her, and grabbed his arms and pulled him toward the main ground of her village, where all of the Ficklefolks were bored without any Spellcaster to play with and feast on.