The sun rose from the horizon and music echoed through the crowded streets, reaching the highest point of the tallest skyscrapers. People danced as if it were a competition, while others tasted sweets until nothing else could fit. The third most awaited day of the year had arrived -SEAT-

  The SEAT was a test which determined everyone's future, who will be the next Paiat Klib of music, the etaltian of science, or the needed replacement for Malinete Lig, the most renowned skillsetian in history. All of which will be defined with a single test.

  Parents cheered their kids up as they left, some shed tears, while others waited anxiously at home, for they had been preparing their kids and themselves during their fourteen years of life for that test.

  Amidst the carnival, a white figure soaked in mud ran desperately through the streets, occasionally bumping into some people.

  His red eyes gazed through people's faces. "Those don't match... Neither those... No. Also no. No, no, no no no no no no", he thought while gasping for air.

  "Guess I'm heading for the test, them. Should be able to find them"

  Clutching his scarf, a braid from the left side his own not-so-white-now hair, he changed directions abruptly with a little more than a single step, his long hair following him as if it were a hero's cape, but before anyone could see him, he was already in an alleyway.

  Not thinking about lefts and rights, he ran trying to arrive. "The front of the castle... nope. No idea where that is", his tired voice sighed.

  He stopped for a second to take a breather forgetting he was being chased. The white haired adolescent stared at the houses surrounding him with a nostalgic smile until spotting a log that bulged from one.

  He stepped back, rolling his shoulders preparing to resume his run, when a plim appeared. His tight slim silver armour covering his caramel skin leened with the Ursant Kingdom's emblem, a bears’s paw. "With me! Quarter A section C!”, He barked while pressing two fingers against his right ear.

  The white haired looked briefly at the teen, but without time for hesitation, sprinted towards the log, which was impossibly remolded, its shape resembling a rope with a hook on the bottom pointing at the kid, gaffing his right horn with a surgeon's precision through a hole made years ago, not the best of memories.

  He didn't stop.

  Instead, the wind followed his movement, wrapping around him like an invisible ally, accelerating him. He spun upwards, the rope and hook turning back to their original state, and a three leafed clover drifted away from him, which he quickly snatched and placed back in the base of his braid.

  But that last act had condemned him to a head on fall towards the roof of a house.

  The plim stood still, confused and amazed by how a fourteen year old could biset but not land on his own feet.

  Pressing his ear, he asked "Sir! How many warnings are left?"

  "No warnings for a demon!", replied someone on the other side.

  "Sir, I'm following protocol", he clarified, his voice trembling as he haired the commander's words.

  "I don't care about the protocol nor if it's your first day as a plim! Do your job, and your job is doing what I say!" Click.

  "How did he know it was..?", he mumbled, then looking at where the demon was, which was no longer in sight.

  “I'm so fired…”.

  Far away, the demon ran towards the castle. "Neither do that guy's lips", he thought, biting his own as he jumped through the roofs of the city. He knew where the castle was now, so he just had to reach it, and luckily, it was pretty close.

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  The castle had an ancient aspect, as if it were one of those from medieval cities. It wasn't as tall as the skyscrapers, but it covered a big segment of the city. It was divided in three: the garden, big enough so that tens of thousands people could take the SEAT, the outer part, where most matters were attended, and the inside, where royalty lived. The outside and the inside were separated by another garden, but there was not a lot of information about it.

  Before arriving, he jumped to the ground and moved the wind to break his fall, taking a detour, not only to evade the pleimes, but to find a hoodie to use on top of the black and red robe he wore.

  "The barrel with purple letters", he repeated in his head, not realizing that his face, along with the dark bags under his eyes were exposed.

  "Found it", he thought as soon as it appeared in sight. He rushed towards the barrel, grabbing the hoodie inside, then returning to the roofs, this time, even if weakly, landing on his feet.

  People who saw him either screamed and ran, or threw whatever they could find at him due to the presence of a demon. At the same time the pleimes reported another sighting and chased him.

  This time, the next line of pleimes appeared: -ploms- similar to plims, they guard the city, but instead of physical weapons, like a sword and a shield, they use skillset.

  She, with purple hair and the same silver armour, moved similar to the kid, rearranging the wind to travel faster, but didn't need to touch the ground at all.

  The kid tried to force more wind on his back, but the plom was already about to catch him.

  “Sir, how many warnings left!?”, she shouted with a mix of calmness and fear to the microphone in her ear.

  “Why are you all asking that!? Did your parents feed y’all petroleum?!”, the pleimer screamed

  “I'm following protocol! Sir!”, she firmly replied as she shortened the distance between her and the kid.

  “...”. People argued at the other side of the call, but only rubbish was heard. Then Click.

  Feeling cornered, the white haired jumped down, trying to lose her in the alleyways. Of course, she followed while a dark glove fastly approached from the kid's left as someone screamed “Got’cha!”.

  The white haired kid barely dodged the hand thanks to the warning, but the caramel skinned teen from earlier crashed head on into her, letting him get away.

  The caramel teen sat down and let out a frustrated sigh. “You really messed up big time, Fía...”, he said while rubbing his temples

  “Me!?” She said while standing up. “I messed up? You litera-... It's our first day!”

  He looked at her trying his best not to laugh due to her reaction.

  “I'll get fired! You’ll ALSO get fired! On our first day! Can you imagine how difficult getting a job will be?!” she screamed at him, while he could no longer contain his laughter.

  “What's so funny, Kaje?!”, but he couldn't stop.

  Far away, the demon hid in a hallway, putting the hoodie on, which, along with his horns, made a comically large V in his head.

  From the inner pocket, a paper, along with a pencil and a cloth, fell to the ground.

  He then rushed towards the gate, which was already closed. "Three houses before the entrance, right, seventeenth tile. Of course they wouldn't have told me earlier, why did I think so?”, he complained under his breath.

  Indeed, that exact tile could be lifted revealing a tunnel, but also a strong sense of deja Vu.

  He entered the tunnel and placed back the tile, revealing a tattoo that extended through his wrists. Two snakes eating each other in the shape of infinity.

  Inside, he saw another note "Walk silently… not stand out too much… To put that cushion there? Why? Of course they'd find some way to watch me. They always do".

  He walked, his steps, even if usually silent, echoed through the tunnel. It felt like hours, but the feeling of walking through a dark tunnel made him happy even more as each step was heard less than the last.

  Finally: a ladder. He climbed and pushed a tile, the sun leening him as it opened. He quickly got out, finding everyone already completing the written exam, and somehow two people who had already finished.

  One of them he couldn't see well, since they were surrounded by guards, but the other was a purple haired girl who swung on her chair while playing with her pencil as if it were a mustache, while a single guard futilely asked her to stop.

  The white haired demon put the tile back and sat on an empty seat as fast as he could, took the pencil and cloth from the same pocket the paper fell from, read the first question, and paused. He looked at the paper, then at his hand and hair, his clothes, his wrist and wondered in his head: “What should I write here?”. He tightened his grip on the pencil as much as he could, trying to not let go of something.

  Then, he let out a sigh, a long one. He relaxed his muscles, thing he couldn't do since a long time ago, then ordered his thoughts, and finally, wrote in another language his now name: "S????h????i??????n???????t???o????? ?????S???e????p?????h?????e?????t????h?????".