"Are you okay?"

"Yes, Elise," a faint smile escaped my lips in her direction.

"I find it hard to believe," her finger pushed my left cheek as if attempting to find out the truth.

"I'm worried," I admitted. It was hard to believe my own words, however, Aurora was too special to take lightly. Nonetheless of the purge within my emotions, what I was concerned about was not how others could come to view her. No... it was something far more ambiguous than that.

"She's fifteen, a grown-up, like you," she aimed at the fact we were twins. I knew she was older than me, but how much was our gap? That I didn't yet know but the way Aurora treated me with the utmost respect and was far from childish, it likely meant she was older than I could grasp.

"You're right," hesitantly, I sighed, giving in to her common sense. If there was something special about Elise was her cool head when I needed advice the most.

"I've been following your dad's steps."

"You're trying to unlock his rare healer class?"

"Yes. He gave me some pointers that he believes will help," Elise irradiated bliss.

Humans were selfish and cautious beings; they didn't share such secrets easily. Knowing what class, could turn out to be a weakness unless the person trusted those who had the information. But Elise was the granddaughter of his boss and Vicent was an elderly man who had done a lot for our family. Even to this day, I remembered my birth and the way he kept my dear mother safe. That was a debt I owed, which I was willing to pay Elise if the chance ever arrived. I also had an interest in what kind of story my father told his boss so he would keep quiet about Aurora's existence, or better stated, unhappened birth. The good part was that my family was quite reserved, so the odds, of other villagers gossiping about us was slim. Especially so as whenever anyone asked me about my sister, I'd just tell them the old tale that she was born very sickly, to the point of having taken many years to get her to heal from a special condition no one knew about: the fact that she didn't have an element. Twins were a very rare occurrence and since I had received the title amalgam, the mixture of two elements, it was thought by those who knew, that I had stolen Aurora's power. As such, I was not seen well by people, and also due to my physical appearance, which was not considered holy, nor similar to the goddess Aria's one.

"I've gotten my class," I added finally, knowing my trust in her would not be misplaced. 

Her cute brown eyes quickly widened. I managed to tell how surprised she was. My goals were often things we shared among other girly conversations we had.

"A rare class?" I saw how there was a little wave coursing down her throat as she gulped the excitement down.

"The rare disgrace witch class," and with every word spouted from my small mouth, I could tell that a distinct expression took place on her. One that was far from satisfied. "Elise?"

"It's..." her gaze dodged mine. 

It looked like she was sorting her thoughts to which I added nothing. Instead, I gave her time, clearly, she needed some.

My eyes stared attentively at the river in front of us: the fishes were lively, the running water looked fresh and dazzling from the sunlight above, tasty even. It was something that always made me wonder: where did all of it come from and how far did it go? Was there a special spring that poured the flow infinitely? My curiosity kept me willful to find out more, independent of the risks it would bring me.

"You should change your class before the church finds out," she added finally, a fearful tone hinting at the worst. 

"I won't..." my gaze didn't return to her, unwilling to face her.

"Iris! Please!" Her yell meant the world to me, the worried tone propagated through my brain, echoing. The desperation she showed was not in vain, for she earned my attention and sorrowful expression.

"I'm sorry. I can't change it."

Her hands grabbed my shoulders, pushing me to the nature below, her body on top of mine, her tears dropping casually on my face. She looked as adorable as the sadness we portrayed.

"Please, just this one time in your life. Please listen to my request."

"The system doesn't let me change it."

And that's when the look on her changed as she understood my words. That it was not me being unwilling but the situation that turned out to be impossible. Despair appeared in her brown eyes and advanced as it pleased. 

"Is it the rarity?" Her trembling arms and feeble voice arrived my way as she held in the crying.

"Might be," I didn't know if that was the cause, however, a part of me didn't want to let her be engulfed by silence. It would've hurt both of us more. Especially her as I didn't really mind my choice. Still, for her feeble self, I chose to neglect her of my preference.

"As an adventurer, you'll have to become a really good one, so that the church won't bother you."

"That was already my goal."

"But even then..." her face turned to the side avoiding mine, "I don't know if it'll be enough."

"It'll be fine. I'll be careful," my hand reached out for her hair, giving a gentle pat. The system was too complex for us to understand. Yet, a part of me figured the disgraceful classes must have a purpose. Certainly, I wouldn't be the only one possessing one. If all it was necessary to unlock them was to have a lot of disgrace, then even a butcher or a hunter would eventually get one. Of course, a couple of achievements here and there related to impious deeds too.

"If you need my help..." 

To her words, I followed with a quick nod. Her light element could turn out to be quite useful. And if she managed to get a healer class like my father, fighting monsters could turn out to be a bit safer.

"I know," I added with a smile, but my sister had been clear about me adventuring on my own. 

'Though I have a class now,' this subject needed further pondering. The main problem was the experience, which I was not willing to give her. My parameters were far too low, all of them. It displeased me a lot, I demanded a change.

"Anything," the repeating of her willingness to support me, melted a part of my heart. Friendships like this one meant the world to me. Sorrowfully, I didn't have many, but at least, I wasn't alone like Aurora had been in my dreams.

"Any news?"

A few days had gone by ever since my father took her with him. It made me wonder what was going on over the capital and what that place looked like. My mother had told me it had a really big castle with sturdy and long walls, that she never ventured inside. Apparently not just anyone could visit the castle inwards, the guards were fierce, and strict: some of them ex-adventurers who had become too famous. Very few even became knights of noble families.

'Alicia,' her name echoed in my mind, memories too pleasant to forget, a farewell too brief, which left little to hold on to. I missed her, a fleeting memory, which escaped from between my fingers like sand.

"Thinking of something delicious again?"

I shook my head to the sides embarrassed of even thinking of Alicia as food, 'maybe, if she was a desert.'

I brimmed with bliss, forgetting about anything we had spoken till now, "was remembering Alicia."

"Ah, her."

She had heard of the young lady of the white rose family and the ring she'd given me that day. It hadn't left my finger since a precious ornament that I came to value.

"You know you can probably visit her if you miss her that much," her face turned around, to the opposite direction of where I stood.

"I do but I'm just a peasant," there had been times when I hoped to meet her. Nevertheless, whenever I remembered how troublesome my existence had been to her father Alfred, I held back. A mere commoner visiting one of the eight greatest and most famous families was unheard of. I wouldn't even be able to go through the front gates, much less the door to one of their mansions.

Her expression returned, one filled with pity. If there had been a hint of jealousy from her behavior, it was gone. She knew I wouldn't trade our friendship for another one, and that Elise wasn't my only friend. Our bond was thick like blood, and I made an honest attempt to let her know that.

Sometimes that was all people really needed, a bit of insurance.

And Aurora hadn't given me any.