Wassailia Celebration for the Schoenheit family usually starts with a quiet morning. No frantic packing for an out-of-country trip. No phone calls for shooting schedule confirmation. Just peace and quiet. That was how Vil had for the morning; a mug of hot chocolate in hand as he leaned on his second-floor room balcony, watching the sunrise across the sea. The peace was something he appreciated. Yes, he loves his job, but sometimes he just needs to get away for a moment. It was a shame that Jonah couldn't come. His parents would've liked to meet with his 'little brother'. But Dire had said that Jonah had his own complication and wanted to stay in his hometown. Dire hadn't mentioned anything about visiting anywhere in the boy's rescue mission, but even he sounded rather unsure when he returned to the Schoenheit family's holiday house. He calmed down after a moment after father's reassurance. It didn't stop him from more than often pent up in his study of the holiday house, though Vil could hear him muttering something worrisome that even he didn't understand. Vil guessed that it could be an out-school matter, so he didn't dare to pry just yet.

"Good morning, sweetie." Looking behind him, he saw his mother walking toward him, still in her nightgown, but he noticed it rather crumpled. He didn't say it out loud but know the indication. Vil and his family, along with Dire, did an annual winter retreat to the coast. As a family of celebrities (his father is also a famous actor, while his mother is an award-winning chef), it is hard for them to be out of the public eyes, which is why they went on secret and random.

"Morning, mother." Vil smiled. She smiled and pulled him into a one-arm hug, kissing his temple gently.

"Beautiful morning, isn't it?" she sighed looking at the beach below. There were already a few people walking down there, some just on a stroll and one or two with their surfboard.

"It is."

"Your father hasn't woken up yet, so I'll be preparing breakfast, kay?"

"Need any help?"

His mother giggled. "That'll be great, dear. But you might want to wake your uncle first, maybe a cup of caffeine for him."

Vil smiled. "Alright then."

After getting a cup of coffee from the kitchen as his mother prepared the ingredient for their family-of-four, Vil walked toward the study where Dire was usually can be found. That was always his first destination. Unlike what the students were thinking, Dire was actually a great headmaster with the bubbling idiot facade and a great mentor for him. His uncle had taught him a lot since his first years, both academically and becoming the future headmaster, this include involving him in staff meetings, mostly as his secretary.

Opening the door to the study he found Dire laying on the settee by the now-dead fireplace. He had his arm over his eyes and a brown envelope on his stomach. Walking toward the sleeping man, he put the mug on the end table near Dire's head and proceeded to shake him awake. "Uncle Dire?" he called, shaking his shoulders. "Dire, wake up."

It didn't take long for the man to groan into awakening. He's always a light sleeper, sometimes always in high alert even during quiet times. Lifting his arm, Vil saw the pair of golden eyes blinking drowsily. "Oh?" he yawned, "It's morning already?"

"Did you not sleep the whole night?" Vil asked.

"I was planning to read the document Ambrose just sent to me," Dire said as he stretched his muscles, "but it seems the tiredness finally caught up with me."

"RSA principal?" Vil reached for the coffee mug at the same time Dire picked up the brown envelope. A quick trade and Dire sipped his coffee. "Is this for the next semester?" Vil asked, opening the envelope.

"For the next year, actually," Dire said as Vil took out the documents from in it. A report in form of a book with the title 'Development of Strategic Plans and Work Programs – Night Raven College'. "We're going to have one more meeting before the new semester with Citrouille, Amelia, and Reed before announcing it to the schools."

Vil knew about the plans, even attending some of the meetings. So it wasn't a surprise when he saw some words like 'collaborations between four schools', 'tournament', and 'exchange students program'. "You went all out here..." Vil muttered, putting back the report into the envelope, "it was pretty surprising of you."

"Well, it's the school's 100th anniversary after all." Dire smiled. "It calls for a year of festivities, don't you think?" He stood up and gulped the last drop of his coffee before snatching the envelope from Vil's hands, throwing it to the settee. "Now, come," he laughed, pulling the younger man with him, "we can put aside all the academic problems and enjoy this Wassailia morning."

Wassailia breakfast was rather simple compared to dinner or the night before. A bowl of homemade porridge with a dash of cinnamon and roasted almond and a cup of steam cup of cinnamon coffee. In the middle of the table was a tray of his mother's two-week stollen, a bread-shape cake made of heavy yeast dough and dried fruits, along with marmalade and jams. There was also last night's glazed apple cake, originally circle but now cut in even slices to make a better rectangular shape.

"We're going to the beach later, right?" Vil asked.

"Of course." His father laughed before biting his piece of stollen. "I've prepared the grill and barbeque."

"Do you want to bring your beach ball, dear?" his mother asked.

Vil turned to her. "Mom, I'm not a kid."

"A friendly game of beach volleyball isn't just for kids, Vil," his father pointed his fork at him, "Daddy will gladly take you on."

"Really?" Vil retorted, raising a teasing eyebrow and a quirked smile. "I don't think you have what it takes, old man."

"Don't you underestimate this muscle, Little Peacock." His father patted his muscled chest. "You get that strong endurance from this old man."

"He's still more beautiful than you, Hugh," Dire spoke, sipping his coffee.

His father groaned, "Dire, you know I can't win against that. Vil got that more from Natalie."

His mother giggled and Vil joined in. "Oh, you're such a tease."

"A perfect combination of both parents," Dire hummed in agreement, "only one thing missing."

Before Vil could ask further, Dire bent down and picked up a wrapped box from underneath the table. "Vil. We have something for you, Vil." He turned to his parents who both have the similar warm smile as Dire. "From all of us. Happy Wassailia."

Dire gave the box to Vil. His heart was hammering behind his ribs with excitement. Sure, he sometimes would deny and claimed he wasn't a child anymore, but surely you couldn't just ignore the childish feeling for opening your present of Wassailia morning. Without waiting any longer, Vil ripped the bow and wrapping paper until none left. He opened the box...

...and gasped. "No way..."

Vil gently took out the present. It was a greatcoat, similar to his uncle's headmaster uniform, but it has Pomefiore colors; purple outside and red inside, with a white cowl collar and fur on its tips. "Is this really for me?" Vil whispered, finger tracing the soft fabric.

"Of course." Dire smiled at him fondly. "A future headmaster needs his own coat."

Vil laughed. "Thank you!" He jumped from his seat and hugged his mother who was sitting next to him, earning a laugh from her.

"Anything for our beloved Vil." She pulled him back and kissed his forehead. "Come on. Try it on!"

Vil didn't hesitate. He wore the cape and took a spin, marveling at the gorgeous design.

His mother squealed, already having her phone in her hand, taking many pictures of her son. "You look amazing, dear!"

"Our Little Peacock is finally a man!" His father laughed, walking up to him to ruffle his hair. "I'm so proud of you, Son!"

"Thank you..." Vil smiled so widely. He couldn't wait to put on his coat for his next year's internship, no doubt being the deputy headmaster or maybe actual headmaster for a whole semester. It was everything for him. It was his calling ever since he was still in his first year.

He was still in his first years at that time, still a babe with baby fat on his cheeks, excited for a new start in a new school like his peer. He had read about Night Raven College and its seven dorms and had no doubt that he would be placed in Pomefiore, the dorm founded on the unrelenting efforts of the Beautiful Queen. Something about that dorm was pulling him toward it, calling him for his second home.

"Schoenheit, Vil!"

Vil stepped out from the whispering crowds, all eyes were on him, including the raven headmaster's, and stood on the lime green pedestal in front of the Dark Mirror like many others before him.

The Slave in the Magic Mirror burst out from the green flame. "Reveal thy name," it said. Vil held himself from letting out a gasp. He had seen this moment for hours, but it was still nerve-wracking to be in this position himself.

"Vil Schoenheit." There were whispered of astonishment.

"Vil Schoenheit..." the Slave repeated, "the shape of thy soul..."

Vil held his breath.

"POMEFIORE!"

The crowds cheered as Vil sighed in relief. He walked toward the group, notable with their almost sparkling faces. He could see that they were holding back, no doubt excited by being in the same dorm as a celebrity (though, this was nothing compared to the overwhelming buzz when Prince Malleus Draconia revealed himself in the crowd).

The raven headmaster was still looking at him until he had to give the opening speech. Even then, he still occasionally stole a glance at him.

Vil didn't question it until one week into class, Master Crewel approached him with a message that the headmaster would like to see him after school. He had been a good kid, right? He followed the Pomefiore nightly routine, never skip class, even being Master Crewel's star students. Surely that wasn't a crime, right?

He knocked on the door to the headmaster's office. But no one answer. That was strange. He tried knocking again. This time the door opened by itself.

"Pardon me," Vil announced, stepping carefully into the room. It was empty with no headmaster to be seen. He closed the door behind him and took the view around him. The office is clean with purple carpet and a single giant window behind the headmaster desk with the pictures of the Great Seven floated above. The picture of the Beautiful Queen, in particular, sent chills down Vil's spine.

There were more pictures in the office, lined up high near the ceiling, which Vil would've guessed that those are the previous headmasters. They were just regular paintings, unlike the floating Great Seven or the talking pictures in the halls. But, something about the pictures made him feel small, intimidated. He walked toward the picture on the furthest left. 'Lelantos Oleander Astaire' it said. The man in the picture was handsome. Fair skin without any wrinkles. Hair black as the night. Piercing poison green eyes. Lips red like a sweet apple. He looked regal, despite only being a headmaster.

"That's the first headmaster."

Vil jumped from where he stood. When did the headmaster get here? The door was still closed or was opened and then closed again silently. The headmaster was staring at the picture almost honorary as if he would bow at it in a few seconds. But he just continued with his talk. "When Queen Nevali of the Valley of Thorn was planning to make an academy for future great magicians, she gave the key to her long-time friend, Lelantos Oleander Astaire. Lelantos was a smart man with charisma, a natural-born leader, and a hard worker. A perfect candidate for a headmaster."

Vil looked at the first headmaster again. He was trusted by the queen of the Valley of Thorn herself? That was admirable. An inspiration. Sound like someone wished to be one day.

"And you can be like him as well."

Vil turned to the headmaster again. "Pardon?"

The headmaster turned at him and smile. "There's another thing that someone needs to be the headmaster of Night Raven College and you have that, young Vil Schoenheit."

Vil frowned but was intrigued.

The headmaster then told him about the requirement, about the truth. Something that isn't written in the handbook. Something that Vil unknowingly had fulfilled. Something that no one, not even his rival, can do. His eyes widened in awe and his heart was hammering in his chest. He had never felt this excited as this.

"I think you know what this would lead up to, don't you?" the headmaster spoke again. Vil held himself from nodding too fast.

"I want to offer an apprenticeship. I will tutor you with everything you need in order to become a great magician and a headmaster candidate. Alchemy, history, communication, leadership, even secrets that only the headmaster can know. What do you say?"

Vil answered, almost immediately, "Yes."

Finally, he can be something that's not a villain. He can be the hero in the future Night Raven College throne.

-----

Despite the street was snowing, it seemed like there was an invisible barrier between it and the beach. It was still cold, mind you, but less snowy. Jonah stood at the edge of the sand, watching the wave roll in the vast pool of blue beyond him. The wave crashed the beach again but didn't touch his boots, which was good, but he still stepped back a little. He didn't think he could handle it if the sea swallowed him again.

"Do you always come here?" Jonah asked Killigrew who stood next to him.

Without looking at him for her eyes still looking straight to the ocean, the girl smiled in an almost nostalgic way. "You can say that this is our turf."

"Turf?"

"Base camp, headquarter, something like that." She turned around and Jonah followed him, looking at the empty beach with trash between the sands. "A piece of our world, you once said."

"I did?" That question seemed to be a theme these days.

Magda hummed. "It was our mission back then." She bent down and took the empty plastic bottle next to her feet. "We're sticking to that name."

Jonah looked around. Columbus was taking out a giant plastic bag from the rusty red wagon that Newton brought and the blond girl opened her backpack for a folded cloth and a box of sewing kit. Grim was perched on Newton's shoulder, no doubt that she is his favorite among the crew. Jonah felt Killigrew bump his shoulder. "Come on. Team briefing."

"Okay." He didn't really get it, but he still followed Killigrew to the other three.

Columbus clapped his hands, gaining everyone's attention. "Alright. The plan is simple," he stated, "we just need to clean this beach as far as we could." Once again, Jonah looked around as the blunette continued, "once we gather it all, we can burn the trash since we need to make the cat useful."

"Hey. I have a name too you know," Grim hissed, standing on both legs on Newton's head, making him could stare at Columbus straight to the eyes. He puffed his chest proudly. "The Great Grim will make the biggest bonfire you could ever see."

Columbus sighed and shrugged. Among the crew, Columbus had been the hardest to befriend with Grim The boy was so persistent in helping to return his memories; showing him some photo albums, taking him to their various adventure spot, or just asking what he could remember. While Jonah was grateful for him, it kinda felt too pressuring. Columbus turned to Newton. "Bree, you can sit this one out and sew the flag."

"You have a flag?" Jonah asked.

"Yep!" Newton unfurled the cloth. It was a dark blue with a handmade picture of a shooting star and dots around it. "Ta-daa!"

Jonah reached for it, feeling the cloth. It was rough and was nearly split into two from the giant tore. He brought the cloth to his nose, inhaling the smell. It didn't smell too good. They need to wash it soon. But there was another feeling. It warm, nostalgic feeling. He suddenly felt younger, standing on the same beach, hugging the same flag but less dirty. Blinked and he returned to the current time with a sigh.

"This is...cute," he chuckled, "but what happened to it?"

Newton brought the flag close, hugging it close and her smile slipped a bit. "We got in a fight and the flag was torn by some jerks," she whispered. At this, Columbus looked to the side while Killigrew frowned. "I forgot to bring it to school so I didn't get to fix it. Now I can!" She dug inside her backpack again and took out a box, opening it, revealing to have a sewing kit. "Can we fly it later?"

For the first time, Columbus smiled a little. "Of course, we can," he said, patting her head. He turned to Jonah and Killigrew. "Any more questions?" None of them answer. "Alright. Shooting Stars. Mission 'Relife the Piece of Our World'..." he clapped his hands twice. "Start."

They went in different directions. Grim stayed with Newton next to the wagon, Columbus went to the right, while Killigrew started where she stood. Jonah followed the nearest seaweed where it led to the edge of the beach again. There was a plastic bottle just a few feet from where he was standing, but the wave hit it. Jonah gulped. Surely he's brave enough to get that, right? He's not going to drown just like that.

With a deep breath, he stepped forward only to freeze when the wave hit the beach. He let out a strangled gasp before scampering backward, hand nearly reaching for his nose. Calm down. Calm down. You're not underwater. The curse is broken. You won't drown from a little water. He did a mental countdown, calming himself with each breathe. He looked up at the sea again. It was calm. He's fine.

"Hey." Turning to the voice he saw Columbus already standing next to him. "You've been looking at the ocean for a while. You want to go swimming?"

"Wha- No." He hated how he screamed too quickly. Columbus looked at him with surprise. Jonah sighed. "Sorry, I-" he gulped, "I had a bad experience with water."

"During your time in NRC?" Columbus asked. Jonah didn't answer, but it was enough for the other boy to pull his confirmation. "Seriously, what's up with your school?"

"Nothing wrong. Just some students in need of therapy."

"And I'm guessing you're a therapist?"

"Not really." Jonah shrugged. "I would mostly just be there for them."

Columbus hummed. "Sounds like you alright."

Honestly, Jonah was tired of this. He didn't like the blunette's tone. "What are you implying?"

Columbus turned to him with a slightly ticked-off expression. "You challenged bees and willing to set yourself on fire to kill them, I wouldn't be surprised."

Jonah sighed again. "I must've been a dumb kid."

"You have never seen yourself as dumb."

"Do you?"

He opened his mouth but closed it, huffing. "You're reckless and sometimes doesn't think. But, not an idiot."

A deep part of himself wondered how much Columbus cling to that. Well, he shouldn't be the one to judge. Senior Riddle had called him clingy once. "Just wondering though," he muttered, "what if I somehow not like I how used to be back then?"

A plastic bag fell to the sand with a loud *buuk*, dust flew as he turned toward Columbus who stared at him with widened eyes. "Why...why would you say that?"

Jonah shrugged. "People can change, you know?" He had seen it. Senior Riddle, Leona, Azul, even Ace and Deuce. He had seen people change for the better. "What if I don't want to go back to your Jonah?"

Columbus was shaking, fingers twitching uncertainly. "But...you're are my Jonah..."

"Your Jonah sounded like a very chaotic but happy child." He turned to the sea again. The wind started to pick up. "I don't think I can live up to the hype."

"I..." Columbus gulped. He took a step toward him but Jonah stepped back, keeping a distance between them. "We can work with that. It's slow progress, but we'll work it. We will get back your memories and-"

"And what? Yes. I want to know what the fuck happened that make me lose my memories, but what if those memories make me feel worse?"

"That's not possible-"

"I drowned, lost limbs, nearly fell to my death, and had more near-death encounters than I can think of." At this point, his voice had become higher. "You can't really expect me to go back the way I used to be!"

"We can try!" Columbus was screaming back at him, anger and sadness mixing in his voice. "I want you back, Captain!"

"People can change too, Columbus! I've seen them! None of us are static characters like in those fairy tales! You just have to accept that!"

"NO! I can't do that!" Columbus stepped forward, too quick for Jonah to avoid. The blunette grabbed his upper arms, fingers digging in his flesh until it hurt. "I want my Jonah Argentum! The one who would drag me into his adventure, who would sit beside me and listen to me whinging, and who made me swear to bring back if the world decided to pit us against each other! That's my Captain Jonah fucking Argentum!"

"That's-"

"You haven't changed much. There's still the old you inside you! Please, come back, Captain!"

"I can't be your captain! I'm-"

"But you're already are!"

"Shut up!" He didn't mean to lash out or push Columbus too hard. The blunette fell to the ground, just as shocked as he was. Jonah's hands were trembling, whether from stress, guilt, or fear. "You don't know anything...you weren't there..." He curled his fingers and he glared at Columbus. The wave crashed harshly against the beach, how fitting with his storming heart. His voice was low, devastating, "I...I can't be that happy captain anymore."

He didn't wait for an answer as he dropped everything and ran. Vaguely he could hear Newton and Grim calling for him, but nobody made a move to follow him, which was good for him. Jonah stomped his ways down the street, hands in his coat pocket, and a puff of air escape his lips.

"Stupid Columbus and his stupid-UGH!" He kicked the small hill of snow. His heart was pounding and so was his head. He hated this. He hated this so much. He wanted to ram his head into something very hard to break his amnesia. Everything is so frustrating. This wasn't the fun puzzle-solving game that he often played with Senior Shourd and Azul, no, this was the unsolvable one that made him want to go overblot himself. He's just so tired. Was it too late for him to wish he could go back to the early years? Back when the worst thing to be worried about was getting expelled and not being able to sleep back in their dorm. Back when things were way simple, maybe even before he lost his arm.

He wasn't looking on the road in particular, so of course, the world decided to mess with him again by making him crash into someone. "Ow!" he yelled, falling back to his butt.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear. Are you alright?"

"Yeah..." he grumbled, "yeah, I'm fine." A hand was offered in front of him and he took it. "I-"

The feeling of frustration suddenly disappeared and was replaced with dread. The hand was soft and bigger than his. Nails a bit too long and painted green. Something about the hand made Jonah's heart race, but not in a good way. His eyes trailed up. Her dress looks so out of place: a strapless long gown, shades and layers of green, teal, and blue. Soft pink ribbons serve as sleeves. She didn't wear any shoes despite being in the middle of the cold.

"Oh, I'm glad you're alright." Her voice was soft, but it brought a chill down his spine. Her face is just as soft as her voice. She's beautiful. Her long hair that reaches her ankles is gold as sunshine with rose petals sticking on to it, eyes are silver like the moon with shadow over them, skin as white as snow with freckles seemed like glittering stars, a pair of long pointy ears of a fae, and lips as red as rose. What caught his attention was the pair of ram horns on her head, brown rough like a bark or a tree and wearing a crown of red roses and thorns.

Unlike the throbbing of longing that he had experienced in recent days, this was a sense of dread. Something is blaring inside his head, something primal. His heart was beating too fast and his guts were telling him to run. Run as far away as possible. But the woman's concerned face didn't look dangerous, why would he want to run?

"Is there something wrong, my dear?" she asked again.

"Nothing!" He hated how his voice squeaked a few octaves higher. "Nothing wrong!"

The woman let out a sigh of relief. "That's good." She pulled him back up and once she released his hand, Jonah took a few steps back, hugging his hand close to his chest. "I'm so sorry for crashing onto you," he mumbled.

The woman giggled. "It's alright, my dear. But, you seem lost in thought."

Oh, right. He was...running away, wasn't he? "I...I guess I am." He let out a sigh. "I had some disagreement with a friend."

She let out a soft gasp. "Oh, you poor thing." He heard footsteps and he held his ground, trying his best not to flinch when the lady put an arm around his shoulders for a gentle pat, "You're not the only one who had a fight with a former friend. Believe me. I know just how it feels."

"But...was I really his friend though?" he whispered, "He wanted the old me back." He sighed once again. "I just...I don't think I can't do that."

"Dear child..." He felt himself being guided to seat at the bench that he never realized was there. "I can't imagine how hard your life must've been. Do people expect you a bit too high?"

"I..."

Ace laughed again. "Isn't that unheard of? For there a student who is unable to use magic to be a prefect. Nice! It's cool! A supervisor-prefect who is unable to use magic! Good luck, Captain!"

"Captain?"

"Yeah." He grinned at him. "You led us like a captain of the shipmates! With your eye patch, you'll make a great pirate captain!"

"Captain..." His heart warmed up when he repeated it. There was something strange about the title. Even if it's new, he couldn't help but feel like had that title for a long time. Captain...Captain Argentum. Yeah. There's a nice ring for it. He looked up to the headmaster, bringing the title with pride. "I'll do my best!"

"Not exactly," he sighed. "It's just...It's complicated." He pulled his legs up and hugged them. "If I am a captain, and apparently always was, then it should be my job, right? I'm the one with the solution, and yet..." he sighed and rested his forehead on his knees, "it feels like I'm causing more confusion."

He felt a hand on his head. It was patting him gently which was nice. Jonah couldn't help but draw toward the hand. "Dear child..." she spoke again, "sometimes people can't accept changes. They're still holding on to something in the past. There's no denying it shaped our world and view."

Jonah understood that. He had seen Riddle holding on to his mother's high expectation to a hysteric point, Leona bitterness for always being second place, Azul covering up his past, Jamil and Kalim one-sided crush and hatred. "But I don't know my past..."

"Then consider this." The lady's hand is now on his chin and guided him so they could see each other eyes to eyes. Jonah gulped, but couldn't take his eyes off her. It was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic. "That may be the reason you couldn't remember your past is because it's your destiny to find out."

"Wha..."

The lady smiled as her hand brushed his bangs that were covering his eye patch. "Oh, dear child. You know there must be something beyond those blank memories of yours. But, what if you are something far more enchanting?"

Maybe if he processed the words, he would notice something strange. Was it that obvious that he was an amnesiac child? "Are you saying I'm more than a captain?"

She chuckled playfully. "Darling~ There's always a role for you to be fulfilled." Her fingers brushed his right ear and he suddenly felt something grow behind it. In a panic, he raised his hand and felt something soft. "It's only a matter of when the pages shall turn to your chapter."

"You think you can tell me?"

"That would be too easy, wouldn't it?" The lady bopped his nose playfully. "But, the first step is always to look for your tale."

"My tale?"

"In a way every tale is hidden, but in another way, it's as obvious as the tip of your nose. Then, you'll decide what will come next." She stood up and gave his head a couple of pats before turning away. "May your heart be your guiding key, Captain."

It felt like he was stabbed in the chest. "Wh-Who are you?"

The lady chuckled. She pressed her index finger on her lips in a 'shh' motion. "There's no need to worry, dear child. I'm sure we'll meet again."

A carriage rode between them. When it passed, she was gone. The air suddenly became lighter and it was easier to breathe. Jonah leaned back, a hand brought to his sweaty face. He felt drained not wanting to go home and just sleep on the bench. What was that? Who was that? Why...Is he afraid of her?

His fingers touched his ear, feeling the soft object. When he brought it off, he found out it was a flower. A rose, thornless and had three colors: blue with a few petals with green and pink which reminded him of an aurora in the dark northern sky with glittery white spots like twinkling stars. It was beautiful in a way, yet mysterious and scary at the same time.

He looked up to the spot the lady once stood. The lingering dread never left him. Once again wondering...

Have they met before?