Five years had passed way too quickly. I still remembered packing my things, preparing to leave the home I had spent my whole life in, for Cardiff, where I was staying in a student residence. However, I spent most of my time at the Cardiff Fire Academy. I studied better than ever, giving my best in both my theoretical and practical exams. I met a lot of interesting people there, but I got on best with one guy, Eddie. He was an energetic boy my age, who, like me, had dreamed of becoming a firefighter since he was a child. I envied him for not having the same story I shared with my passion for the profession. Don't get me wrong, I was proud that my parents were and are firefighters, but every time I remembered myself as a child, dreaming about what I wanted to do in the future, I couldn't help but remember that most of those memories were about my dad. Not only did he set an example for me to follow, but my dad also showed me around the fire station and let me sit in Jupiter. We always laughed together, especially when we tried to hide it from Mum, but with little success, because my mum quickly joined our little get-togethers during their working hours.

But now, after five years, I have learned that what I loved about this profession was not only the fact that I had been in it since birth. It was also that I understood the price you pay for it. After all, ten years ago, that is how I lost my dad forever. But listening to the stories of retired firefighters who visited us during classes, often with visible traces of their service as firefighters, I saw that there was more to it. "Sometimes [in this profession], the one who survives can pay a greater price than the one who dies," one of the guests told us at the end of his lecture, in which, among other things, he recalled the death of his closest friend from the unit. I didn’t understand his words right away, but when Eddie showed me my father’s name in the Academy’s guest book, tears immediately filled my eyes. That’s how I understood the meaning of those bitter words. Those who die only lose their whole life, and those who are left sometimes remain affected by this event for the rest of their lives and have to pass on this legacy to the next generation, scratching the wounds that have healed. And although I missed my dad very much and regretted that he couldn’t see me, I understood then that it was now the younger generation’s turn to experience this price. These were the principles on which it worked.

But against all odds, I achieved my goal. Although the price I had to pay for it tore my heart in two. Since I left for Cardiff, I hadn’t spoken to my mother like I used to. For the first six months I didn’t speak to her at all, and it was only because of Reilynn’s persuasion that I agreed to come home for Christmas. And so it was every year of those five. I called my mum once a week or two and I never really looked forward to the conversation and I dare say my mum didn’t either as her answers were always cold and evasive. I found out about her taking over from the old Mr Steele from Reilynn. According to my sister my mum had distanced herself so much because she didn’t want to think about what would happen if something happened to me. And I only came to Pontypandy for Christmas and my mum’s and Reilynn’s birthdays. I only came to mine once but my mum had one of her bad days and unfortunately put me off coming when she started having the same discussion about how I was making a huge mistake by choosing to be a firefighter again.

Although my relationship with my mum had deteriorated significantly I felt proud as I left the main hall at Cardiff Fire Academy. Nothing could dampen my spirits as today was the big day. After completing our training we were all looking forward to it.

“So? Where are they sending you?” I jumped out of my chair as soon as Eddie closed the door behind him.

"Nowhere. I'm staying in Cardiff. I'll be serving in the second," Eddie said in his characteristically short and concise style.

"That's great," I was happy for him. "Did they ask a lot of questions?" I asked, to make sure I was prepared for what to expect before I knocked on the door myself.

"No," my friend denied. "They asked me the obvious, but this one is more about you. You'll be fine," he reassured me, then gave me an encouraging push toward the door. "They're waiting for you."

I said goodbye to Eddie, just shaking his hand. Personally, I was on the side of people who liked more affectionate goodbyes, but Eddie came from a stricter home than I did. So I was always very careful around him, so as not to do something that felt natural to me, but might be uncomfortable for him.

I stood in front of the door, straightened my tie, and then I took a deep breath and knocked. The door was opened by a young man in a white shirt with a PR employee's badge. However, when I entered, my name was read by a very elderly man sitting in a chair behind a desk. His long face framed by gray hair seemed strangely familiar to me, as if remembered from years gone by. Or from a photograph...

"You are..." I said without thinking, when I realized where I knew this older man from.

"If I didn't know who your parents were, I would be willing to bet that you were the son of either Elvis Cridlington or Ellie Philips. Both of them always showed a unique tendency to speak without being asked and to say what they thought," he stated, laughing under his breath, before looking back at me seriously. "Griffin Jones, right?" He asked in a tone as if the question bored him. He looked at the folder in front of him, while I silently nodded. It was not appropriate for me to ask him any further openly what his plans were for me, but Chief Fire Officer Boyce clearly wanted to get to the point as quickly as possible. "You have great potential and all the highest marks. No wonder, since your parents are some of the best firefighters in Wales. The gift for this job is in your blood" Chief Fire Officer Boyce looked at me researchingly. I couldn't explain why, but I saw something else in his gaze besides praise. Some provocative spark flickered anxiously, as if Chief Fire Officer Boyce was waiting for me to say something.

"Thank you, but I don't think I'm that good" I said carefully, choosing each word with the utmost care. "Nobody taught me that when there was still time" I added sadly, bowing my head.

"I grieve your father's death as much as you do, Griffin" Chief Fire Officer Boyce said, and I could hear the concern in his voice. "He was one of the best at his job and all these years I didn't know if anyone could ever fully take his place" he confessed with a sigh. "At least that was the case until I saw your name on the list of candidates for the Cardiff Fire Academy. I was sure you wouldn't escape what was meant for you" he confessed, smiling at me in a friendly way.

"Thank you..." I replied uncertainly. In the silence that followed I could tell it was my turn to say something, but I didn't know what. I felt too honored that such a legend as Chief Fire Officer Boyce was openly praising me to be able to properly say a single full sentence.

"That's why I'd like to see you become another star in the place that taught you all this" he said mysteriously, and I immediately felt a bittersweet taste in my mouth.

"Does that mean I'm staying in Cardiff?" I asked, clinging to my last hope.

"No" Chief Fire Officer Boyce chuckled. "You're being posted to Pontypandy, of course."

I froze, panic rising in my blood. I couldn't possibly be working in Pontypandy. Not under my own mother. Wait, was it even possible under the rules for a child to serve under their own parent?

"But I can't serve where my own mother is the Station Officer, can I?" I asked in the most innocent tone I could muster.

"Nonsense. No one ever follows those rules." Chief Fire Officer Boyce, to my chagrin, waved me off. "And generations of firefighting families have only survived because the son served under his father, and the father before him under his father," he mentioned. "In Pontypandy, you'll learn from the best of the best. And hopefully, one day you'll be at least as good as them," he encouraged. "Besides, don't you want to go back to your hometown for a while?"

"Actually no," I sighed, lowering my shoulders. "I can't serve under my own mother. Please," I folded my arms pleadingly. "I can even clean the Academy until the next intake," I volunteered.

"But that's not for another six months," Chief Fire Officer Boyce blinked in surprise. I must have looked really desperate, because I never willingly volunteered for cleaning work.

"Please, I'll last six months, a year, even a few years. I'll clean, cook, wash, clean undercarriages, whatever there is to do, I'll take care of it," I repeated pleadingly, as the surprise on Chief Fire Officer Boyce's face only grew. "I'll do anything, but I can't go to Pontypandy for an internship."

"There's no way. The decision has already been made," Chief Fire Officer Boyce said sternly, handing me the piece of paper. "Griffin, I don't know why you don't want to work in Pontypandy, but I know you deserve this place more than anyone else."

He didn't know, I thought as I closed the door behind me. No one knew, not even Reilynn, that I hadn't spoken to my mother properly in months. And that I hadn't planned on starting over. But apparently fate had just tried to convince me that graduating from the Cardiff Fire Academy was the easiest step in my career. And it would probably be my last, because I wouldn't be surprised if my mother threw me out the door the moment I stood before her with this piece of paper that I was now holding in my hands.

Hi! I hoped you enjoyed next step on Griffin's path. And I wonder what do you think about his last feeling. Penny will fire him or not?