School of Rebellion ; SetoSolace

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Brice spent that evening pacing back and fourth in his room—panicked. He felt lightheaded, nauseous, and confused at the same time. They couldn't advance to the main base (of the Sorcerers) until tomorrow, which means Isaac would have to fend off the Headmaster (most likely, to Brice's own assumption). Not only would they have to find Seto, but now Isaac as well.

He stopped for a brief moment and sighed, then had sat down on his bed. The sheets were all messy and unwashed. It smelled disgusting, but it was slightly comforting. He took out the single photograph of himself and Seto; smiling faces that didn't have a care in the world.

Or, at least Brice assumed Seto didn't have a care in the world.

"What would you do?" Brice waited for hot tears to roll down his cheeks—but none came. He knew that doing this wouldn't help; consulting that Seto he once knew wouldn't help at all.

He wasn't ready to face Seto after all this time.

Things have changed—they both have changed. How will his memory even return after all this time, and will it return? Brice wanted to stay strong; that's how people had always looked at him. But now, he just wanted to melt and revert back to his old self—the selfish brat from the School of Creation who thought the world was his and his alone. The Prince of Hybrids.

Now he wasn't a Hybrid—mentally. He was a Human; a stupid race that was a neutral party in the Revolution that had took too long. Fighting for love and peace, he couldn't help but understand why most, Sorcerers and Hybrids, would just brush them aside with no regards. He flopped backwards onto the bed.

Memories felt like they were fading day by day now. Training after training, conflict after conflict, war after war—there was never truly a time where he could feel "safe" again. It was such a vague word, it could mean different things to different people. Safe, to Brice, was knowing everyone was alright and happy.

But no one was truly "safe" in Brice's eyes.

Isaac is gone, Seto is gone, Ethan's condition is worsening. Sub is losing hope, Zek is hopelessly falling behind, Tyler is finding weakness. Kyle is faking smiles, Mitch is becoming more tense, Jerome's questioning sanity on a constant basis. Adam is falling apart and Ty is—well he's Ty.

Tomorrow was going to come, Brice couldn't stop it as much as he wanted to. Zek, Mitch, Jerome, Adam, Ty, and himself were going to risk their lives tomorrow entering the Sorcerer's Palace. It was destiny—it was destiny that they were going to succeed and Brice should be basking in the thought of success. But it was always that uncertainty of death tapping at his shoulder—Isaac didn't mention if they were all going to come out alive. The thought of losing someone close made him want to vomit.

Brice tossed the photo aside and got more comfortable in bed. Sleeping wasn't going to help him; his thoughts were beginning to come too restless. He was going to try anyway, he needed all the rest. He shut his eyes, focused on the silence, and proceeded to go to sleep, embracing the fate that laid ahead of him like an open road.

***

Isaac felt dazed as his eyes opened slightly. He coughed, struggling for breath as he looked up. He appeared to be in a basement; his hands bound to chains and his body numbed and paralyzed. He grunted in a failed attempt to move his body to a more comfortable position.

It was completely silent; he could only hear the sounds of his own breathing. The only thing he could remember was his world fading to a shade of pink—a pink that could only belong to Dawn. God, he was so stupid for trying to retaliate; he was disoriented and weak after all. He (mentally) shook his head at his own stupidity.