Part I: Six Packages, Six Journeys, One Big Wooden Door

96 97 The Chosen: Battle with a Cerberosian Prince Fight or Flight “Yeah, darlin’, you know what they say. Potential is identified by the weak, but nurtured by the brave.” “That doesn’t make any sense,” Tumi responded. “Yeah, it does… It means… Um… You have potential, and you have someone who can identify it… And you have… brave…” “Just quit while you’re ahead,” Pippa said before Ethan could finish. “Wow. These conversations are extremely exhausting,” Tumi responded. “Yeah, that’s our cue,” said TJ as he walked to his tent. The rest followed suit. Despite their unexpected burst of energy, they were all fatigued, needing rest. Each in their own tents, they were individually reflecting on everything that had happened. It was as though their minds were in sync, and they were all thinking the same thing at the same time, but they were alone. Such was the nature of this experience. The moments of self-reflection were swiftly followed by snoring (some louder than others), but they were all asleep. With a sudden jolt of his body, TJ opened his eyes. He gave himself time to recover. Today it took about 20 minutes. It would fluctuate between 10 and 20 minutes, depending on what he did the previous day, where he was, and a host of other factors that he didn’t know or care about. He just wanted it to stop. But it never did. It happened every night. It never skipped a night. Only ever at night. He sat up on his mattress and stayed there for a while. Since he had left home, he realized he had not thought about it, besides the moment he last contacted his uncle. But he didn’t miss home. Nothing about his life made him long to go back. There was no one he loved enough to be motivated to go back home for, to go back home to. He loved his uncle, but their relationship wasn’t one filled with emotion. His uncle took care of him and provided for him. TJ obeyed his uncle, never disrespected him, and helped out where he could and when he was needed. He liked his friends. He would probably classify them as friends by association, maybe even acquaintances, rather than deeply bonded friends. They were his boys, no doubt. But sometimes he felt he didn’t belong. He felt like an outcast. A very popular outcast. He longed for genuine friendships, genuine relationships. Unfortunately, no one could ever find out how he felt. He would not allow it. “Always the same… always the same,” he said to himself. He wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, his body wouldn’t let him, so he decided to get dressed and go to the general tent. It was almost sunrise anyway. Fang was sitting on one of the couches, drinking a cup of coffee when TJ walked into the tent. “Morning, stars and stripes.” “Good morning to you too, sunshine. You’re getting friendly.” “Sunshine?” Fang said. The resentment in his voice was evident. He hated nicknames. “Yep. And now, your reaction has made me love that nickname even more.” “You will not call me that.” “You’re up early in the morning, every morning. And you have become very cheerful lately… Sunshine.”