"Okay, have you experienced any of the following symptoms today?"

Bell straightened his back and took a small breath in anticipation. Here he was, the last day of his daily checkup at the Blue Pharmacy. Ever since his fateful battle with Asterious, he had been committed to medical treatment (free of charge, of course, thanks to Miach's graceful patronage). While Welf's trademark armor had taken the brunt of the bull's blows, the sheer shockwave of his attacks presented a grave threat to Bell's internal organs. And while the young boy had taken the necessary potions and elixirs to recover from the duel, it was always better to be safe than sorry.

Seated in front of Bell was one of his close friends, Naaza Erisuis. In her gloved hands were a feather pen and a clipboard. Her purple eyes remained fixated on the wooden board as she began to list off symptoms to her patient.

"Dizziness?"

"No." Check.

"Severe weakness?"

"No." Check.

"Compulsion to pass out?"

"No." Check.

Suddenly, Naaza began to speed up as she continued to list off any possible symptoms.

"Low blood pressure acute visual problems numbness weakness on one side of the body severe headache severe abdominal pain shortness of breath chest pain nausea vomiting diarrhea?"

"Umm," Bell said in a quiet voice.

Naaza had spoken so quickly that the list seemingly merged to become an interwoven sentence of medical conditions. Naaza's tail wagged back and forth as she waited for an answer.

"No...?" Bell answered truthfully.

"Hm." Naaza hummed as she finished the last tallies of checkmarks on the medical sheet.

She sighed and put the board down on a desk to the side.

"Alright, that concludes your checkups here. You appear to be healthy," she said, turning back towards Bell with a small smile. Bell returned the gesture with his own smile.

"Although," Naaza began, her tone abruptly shifted to one of concern. "Have you had trouble sleeping recently, Bell?"

Bell paused. He could feel his heart sink as she mentioned his newfound insomnia.

"I—uh," he stammered.

It was pointless to try and lie to her. It would have been far easier to do so had she not caught onto the fact that he did only sleep for three hours the night before. It wasn't like he could lie anyway though, he supposed.

"Yes," he said in dejection. "But it was only last night!"

"Hm."

Naaza's hum always seemed to mean several things at once. The short expression of the buzzing between her lips always created an atmosphere of aloofness and mystery around her. This was only counteracted by her Chienthrope mannerisms—the drooping of her ears, the wagging of her tail, and many others. However, she always remained to appear sleep-deprived.

"Does it have to do with—"

"No," Bell abruptly half-shouted.

He knew what she was going to say.

Xenos.

He didn't regret the deeds he had done to protect them, especially Wiene. To doubt his actions to safeguard them would only serve to bring doubt to his own character. That chapter in his life was already over regardless. And he especially had already buried the hatchet between him and Ais, and he wasn't exactly comfortable bringing up that memory.

"Hm," Naaza hummed once again. "Whatever may be bothering you, I hope you're able to clear your head soon."

She flashed a smile to her young patient.

"Now that you're level four, your familia is expected to go on an expedition."

Bell let out a small sigh before a smile sprouted on his lips. It had been quite some time since he had gone into the dungeon. Of course, with his prior injuries, he could not do so, but the sheer thrill of being able to return to his adventures excited him. Memories of besting beasts and conquering creatures of all shapes, sizes, and semblances made his spirit shiver in trepidation. Yes, the dungeon beckoned to him. To some, this relationship may have resembled a moth being drawn to a flame; or a mouse being lured into a spring trap by the whiffs of cheese. But to Bell, it felt more like a knight being summoned to venture into the unknown. Nothing spurred him onward but his own sense of duty, an obligation, and self-worth.

A knight, adventure, dutiful obligations. His whole life really did seem to be something out of a fairy tale.

"Yeah, I know. I talked to Hephaestus-sama with Kami-sama."

He's certainly matured as an adventurer. He never would have imagined this sort of ordeal, especially not two months ago. He was undeniably growing and leveling up fast. It was as if his dream and his excelia coincided with one another. But that was natural... right? One's emotions should drive their actions; one's childish aspirations made long in the past should pave the way for the future.

"Hm. It's quite funny to think that a little rabbit like you would lead an expedition of multiple familias no less."

Bell pitifully laughed as he sulked his head down in shame and embarrassment. Naaza smirked slyly as she began to pet his rough, fluffy hair, just as she did during the Xenos incident.

He had just gotten his newly announced alias posted at the guild. Rabbit's Foot.

Gone were the days of being a rookie, at the very least. There were obviously worse nicknames that could have been chosen without his consent. (Vanadis Odr, as suggested by Freya, being amongst one of the most scandalous ones. Thankfully, Hestia wouldn't let that name come to light, nor would she ever divulge such appalling information to her favorite child). An aspiring, or admittedly, badass nickname would more than satiate his childish desires, but alas, his abnormal expeditious luck would be his defining trait. His physique didn't help either.

Having had her fill with teasing for the moment, Naaza retracted her hand back.

"Even though I won't be there with you in the dungeon, I will support you with the necessary supplies." Bell raised his head and smiled. "Thank you, Naaza."

Everyone was working so hard to prepare both themselves and the party for the expedition. Whether it be training their fists, memorizing incantations, forging armaments, amalgamating elixirs—they all sought to better themselves for the sake of others. Bell felt pride. They were all just working so hard—practically down to the bone. And yet, something irked him in the back of his mind. It was an estranged feeling of emptiness. Each and everyone one of his friends, those he held dearly in his heart, poured their heart and souls into their work, their training, and yet he was still levels, leagues ahead of them.

It didn't feel right. It didn't feel natural. In the beginning, he admittedly didn't notice it. But now, surrounded by so many, he somehow felt alienated. And despite an army of friends and followers who all called him an inspiration, he remained the conversation of abnormality.

"Well if that's everything, I suppose I better head out now."

Bell flashed a smile to Naaza as he straightened out his brown jacket, and headed towards the door. Naaza frowned as she watched him leave. She didn't even bother to raise her voice nor her hand to usher a goodbye. The smile she gave him—it wasn't genuine. She would know. It was the same smile she would give her god Miach whenever he asked if she had nightmares about her once flesh arm.

.

.

.

Bell walked down the now bustling streets of Orario. He remembered running down these streets, covered head to toe in Minotaur blood. He smiled cordially as he remembered the looks on bystanders', vendors', and adventurers' faces alike as he zipped by them in a blur of red. What a fool he made of himself to these people. How selfish he may have looked to them as he protected Wiene. How heroic he looked when he fought the black Minotaur.

Bell felt his body stiffen as his mind echoed their reactions to his actions. A cause and effect. Nothing more, nothing less.

They first smiled, then scowled, then cheered. Bell felt hollow inside by the faces they made. None of them truly saw him, at least not with their own eyes. They were blinded by humanistic errors of presumption, prejudice, and bias. None of them truly knew him. Barely anyone stood up in defense of the Little Rookie. But that was the plan, right? To protect Wiene? His heart felt strained as he thought about it. It was all for the best, all for the sake of the Vouivre girl. Yet, he couldn't help but feel numbed by the sense of isolation and spite the people gave him.

He did what he did not because he was forced to, but because it was within his very being to do so. Had he not done what he did, he would only be betraying his soul. And yet, even so, there wasn't enough comfort in that conviction.

Bell's eyes fluttered about and looked at their faces once again. Most vendor's faces were chirpy and cheerful as they hollered at potential customers. Some adventurers bolstered a stern and earnest face, creating an air of professionalism around them. Others had a toothy grin, the result of a satisfying dungeon dive. And a few had their faces sagging as darkened bags acted as weights on their skin. Even still, they held smiles of contentment.

Bell continued to survey the street until his eyes caught the sight of a small child. It was a young black-haired boy with sun-kissed skin. In his right hand, he held the hand of another, a much older man who was three times the boy's size. The boy was looking towards the man, saying words that couldn't be heard by Bell (not that he would be so rude as to eavesdrop on their conversation). Still staring at the man, the boy pointed towards one of the many street stands. On the stand's display was an assortment of different stuffed animals. Typically brown teddy bears, snow-white furry bunny rabbits, spotted poofy puppy dogs, and many others. The man looked at the stand, then back at the boy, and smiled. He rustled the boy's hair for a bit before turning to the owner of the shop. He pointed towards one of the teddy bears. Beside him, the boy jumped for joy as he was handed his new best friend.

Bell smiled bitterly as he watched the two. The sight reminded him of the relationship between himself and his grandfather. What would the old man think of if he were still by his side? Probably something prevented that would leave a sour taste in Bell's mouth, but that was better than nothing at all. But specifically, what would he think of Bell? Would he judge him as the people of Orario did, or would he stand by his side and comfort him as his familia had? The sheer fact that Bell couldn't decide made him feel more empty than he had before.

Watching the young boy leave with a teddy bear in one hand and the man's hand in the other, Bell felt his stomach rumble in hunger. He hadn't eaten anything since he had first woken up. It was already well into the day's afternoon, and his stomach was fed up with the seemingly loath-filled lack of attention it was given. Unable to stifle itself any longer, it let out a cry. Frowning, Bell began to quicken his pace towards the best pub in all of Orario, the Hostess of Fertility.

As he began to jog the short walk to Western Main Street, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He gradually began to slow his steps as he turned to one of the many alleyways along the street. It was faint, but it was there. An ember, a flicker of a flame. It danced in the shadows of the alley, just along the outskirts of the pathway. Bell stopped in the middle street as he stared at it. It was almost as if he had become a rock in a stream. Citizens and adventurers alike passed by him on either side, yet he remained still.

Could no one else see this? Did they even care to see it? Were they all so busy with their daily lives as to not bother a glance?

Bell felt entranced by the flame. It was seemingly beckoning him towards itself. Unable to fight the urge, Bell began to walk towards it. So delicate, so fragile, so beautiful. It swayed back and forth, methodically moving away as Bell got closer. Stepping into the narrow alley, the flame was ten feet away from him. He took a step towards it and noticed that it was no longer moving away. One more step, two more steps, three more steps. It had now stopped rocking itself back and forth. Finally, after the fifth step, he was only a few inches away from the flame.

Once again unable to restrain himself from his curiosity, he bent down and extended his hand towards the fire. Suddenly, the ember erupted and began to spin rapidly. As it did so, it started to grow in size. The once flame that was so less big than a grain of rice was now a fireball the size of Bell's fist. Bell quickly retracted his hand to his chest and stood up to not burn himself. He continued to stare at the fire before realizing that it was molding itself. As it continued to spin and grow, the ball of fire began to twist and contort itself, creating limbs as it did so.

First was the arms, then the torso, and finally the legs.

Finally, it slowed itself and stopped spinning. In place of the flame now stood a small humanoid figure composed entirely of fire.

Bell could only stare at the figure as it looked at him. Though, it was hard to tell as it didn't necessarily have eyes. But he could feel its gaze upon him. The two continued to stare, entranced by one another. The supposed fire being was a vibrant orange. Its "hair" stood up in the pattern of a typical fire while the rest of its body maintained a rigid physique. Small puffs of smoke came out from its head but nowhere else on its body. Having its fill of staring, the fire boy stretched out its arm towards Bell. Still in a stupor, Bell stared dumbly at the arm. Frankly, he had no idea what to do.

"Should I be courteous and shake its hand? That would burn my hand, wouldn't it? If I didn't, would it just sit there and wait for me? Its already being patient enough as it is..." The young adventurer's mind scrambled and ran through every possible scenario as he could. The little flame just stood there, holding its out hand patiently.

Unable to shake off his sense of courtesy, Bell knelt down and reached out with his index finger. Using his finger seemed to be most appropriate as if he were to be burned, a wound that small would have little to no issue in healing with the help of an elixir. Also, using his whole hand would be unfitting as his fist was in equal size to the flame.

The fire gently grabbed hold of the finger and shook at it slightly. "Warm." That was all Bell thought as they greeted one another. It wasn't hot like he was expecting it to be. Instead, it was a soft and tender warmth. The two stayed that way, seemingly lost in their own little world. Still interlocked with one another, a voice appeared in Bell's mind.

"Hi! I'm Shadrach!"