The next day came quickly, and we worked together to gather everything we were bringing to Hawthorn. We had a medium sized cart that was designed for a person to pull. We were not taking an excessive amount of crops or supplies, but we still had enough that it would not fit in backpacks. Most families in the countryside used carts like this since the capital city of Acacia was close and Integrated adults had their attributes give them more than enough strength.

  John’s family was also heading to Hawthorn for the festival and the Integration Ceremony since John was twelve. Our families had always gotten along well, so earlier that month, they decided to make the trip together.

  Before we headed to the main road, Mom walked up to me with something hidden behind her back.

  “What are you hiding from me, Mom?” I asked, leaning far to the side to catch a glimpse.

  She shifted quickly to block my view. “Cover your eyes, Jude, and hold out your hands.”

  I sighed but did what she asked. A light thwack landed across my fingers when I tried to peek.

  “No peeking,” she scolded playfully. She placed something soft and lightweight into my palms.

  “Alright, open them.”

  I lowered my hands and saw a dark forest green long sleeved shirt with a triangular pattern stitched along the collar.

  “Mom! You and Dad said you would not get me more clothes until I stopped growing. This is… this is… wow. Thank you.” The words stumbled out. I knew how expensive anything with dye or patterning could be.

  “Thank you, Mom. And thank you, Dad!” I called over to him as he stood near the cart.

  “You are welcome, Jude,” Dad said. “We wanted you looking your best for the Integration Ceremony, and we know how long you have wanted a new shirt. Consider it an early gift.”

  I put it on immediately. It fit perfectly. The fabric was warm enough for winter but light enough that I didn’t feel like I would overheat. The deep green matched my eyes. I held up my arm, admiring it.

  I ran inside and found the little mirror in my parents’ room. My short black hair, green eyes, and a huge grin stared back at me.

  “Well, there goes the cool factor,” I muttered, trying to straighten my expression. It lasted all of three seconds before I smiled again.

  When I walked back outside, I thanked my parents again. The cart was loaded, and near the back of it was a large grey bundle wrapped in a blanket.

  “What is that, Dad? The grey blanket.”

  “That is the monster from yesterday,” he said with a satisfied smile. “We should be able to get good money for it in Hawthorn.”

  A small shiver ran through me at the thought, but this was the reality of the world I was stepping into. Once I Integrated, I would be dealing with things like that far more often.

  “We should get going if we want to meet John’s family on time. Come on, Jude.” Dad grabbed the two handles at the front of the cart, lifted, and started down the path that led from our land toward the main road.

  About twenty minutes later, walking west, we saw John and his family waiting for us.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Good day, Lawrence and Leanne,” John’s dad, Steven, called.

  “Good day, Steven and Kat,” my dad replied. “Exciting day ahead. And look at what I found poking around the house yesterday.”

  He pointed at the grey bundle in our cart.

  Steven and Kat walked over and pulled the blanket aside.

  “A Night Cutter,” Kat said, eyebrows raised. “Looks like a level twenty five. That is a high level monster to appear this close to Bramble.”

  “Mom, how did you know its name and what its level was? Is that an ability?” John asked.

  She shook her head. “No, that is one of the basic functions of the Interface. If you focus on something with the intent of knowing what it is, the Interface gives you general information. If the level is close to yours, you get more details. If it is much higher, it will show as a question mark. The bigger the gap, the more question marks. Within ten levels, you see its name and level. More than ten levels higher and it becomes a single question mark. More than twenty levels becomes two, and more than thirty becomes three question marks.”

  “Whoa. So what does it say when you look at me or Jude?” John asked.

  “Any non Integrated human or animal just shows as its species. You show up as ‘Human.’ That bird there would just show as ‘Bird.’” Steven said. “You will want to get in the habit of identifying everything. Monsters can mimic animals or objects. It is rare, but not rare enough that you want to risk ignoring the habit.”

  All the adults nodded in agreement.

  “Alright, let’s keep moving,” my dad said. “If we get to Hawthorn before dinner, we can unload our goods near the market stalls, find an inn before the rooms fill up, and get some festival food.”

  The road to Hawthorn was uneven, but the trip was peaceful. John and I talked the entire time, and I retold the whole story of Dad fighting the monster and how quickly both of my parents reacted.

  “I would have charged in and cut it down too,” John said proudly, swinging an imaginary sword at a tree in a dramatic finishing move.

  “You were not there,” I said. “It felt like someone poured ice into my chest when Dad ran outside. And he came back hurt. A bronze ranked Monster Hunter and it still was not easy for him. It made me realize how much I need to learn.”

  John lowered his imaginary sword and nodded. “I know. You are right. But still, I am going to become the strongest warrior Telos has ever seen.”

  He jumped right back into a wild pretend battle, shouting as he defeated invisible monsters.

  I smiled. I was glad I was not going to the festival alone. It was comforting to know I would be Integrating with someone I trusted. And maybe, if we were lucky, we would both end up at the Academy together too.

  The rest of the walk went by quickly. The sun was already starting to dip lower in the sky, turning the clouds a soft orange while the faint colors of the Grand Seal shimmered through them. The closer we got to Hawthorn, the more the road widened and the more travelers appeared. Families pulled carts like ours. Merchants rode wagons stacked with crates. A few people in good armor passed by on horseback, maybe they were there to help guard Hawthorn during the festivities.

  The excitement in my chest grew with every step.

  After another bend in the road, the first roofs of Hawthorn came into view. The tall outer walls rose in front of them, made of thick stone covered in vines. Smoke drifted from dozens of chimneys, and the faint sounds of crowds and music carried on the breeze.

  “There it is,” Dad said with a satisfied smile. “Hawthorn. Your first festival as someone about to Integrate.”

  Mom tightened her grip on the cart and took in the sight with a peaceful look. “It has been a couple of years since I last came here. I forgot how lively it gets during festival week.”

  John elbowed me and whispered, “Last one to the gate owes the other an iron coin.”

  “You are on,” I said, already breaking into a run.

  Our parents shouted after us not to go too far, but their voices were lost behind the sound of travelers and wagons. The city gates stood ahead, wide open and filled with people coming and going. Mana lanterns had already been strung across the entrance, and bright festival banners hung from the stone walls.

  The guards outside the city gate didn’t let us in because it cost a copper a head during festival times to help pay for all of the extra guards and to keep the level of crime down.

  As John and I waited for our parents, we simply stared at everyone going in and out. It all felt more real than it ever did in the years past.

  This was where everything would begin. Tomorrow the festival would be in full force and in two days, the morning of the last day of the year, it will be the Integration Ceremony.