When Ermand opened his eyes, he was in the Healers' department, the same room. He glanced at his legs that were applied with some green oil over it. It was still aching.

Then he remembered that the serpent had bit him on his shoulder. Ermand ran his fingers over his shoulder which felt bumpy.

"It's a little bit swollen, boy. Don't worry, you've been bitten by a river serpent. It won't do you much harm. We have sucked out the venom with the sucking bulb. It just looks in bluish colour over your shoulder," a nurse told him.

It was later he realized that he was lying shirtless on the bed. His wet vest and shirt were placed near him, kept for drying with the amount of sunlight that entered the room through the one of the windows near him. He felt as if his head was hammered constantly.

Out of nowhere, Timothy walked near to his bed and sat near to his foot.

"You seem to be bitten," he said, wrinkling his nose.

"River serpent."

"Horrible, but okay."

"You look fit and all right."

"My Aslehm saved me. The bow and arrow proved me that gaining an Aslehm was worth it. I passed the test. Emile did too, although he is slightly injured but not as much as you are. He had also achieved his Aslehm. He overcame his fear of the black-horned horses by fighting back like a true Defender. His Aslehm is a partisan since attacking a horse requires a partisan. The fact is that I don't know why mine is a bow and arrow when I saved Arawn."

"The rest others failed?"

"Charlie. He's severely injured. The black-horned horse penetrated its horn into his stomach--"

Ermand gasped.

"He was hospitalised in the correct time or else he would've been... you know."

"Edwin?"

"He won miserably. A giant owl scratched all over his body with its claws, and you know what happens when you're scratched by its claws once."

"Continuous bleeding."

"When he was brought here, he was drenched in his own blood. Now he looks like a corpse but he's still alive. Most of the students made it but all of them were somehow harmed during the test. Ermand... you remember what Professor Oscar Qorder said?"

Ermand gulped, nodding.

"The last test becomes tougher than this."

"You and Charlie, have to make it alive somehow. I've heard there will be demons in the last test."

"I need to see him."

"See who?"

"Jack."

Ermand staggered through the corridors and into the third year D2 classroom with the help of Timothy. He waved at his brother who was chatting with his friends at the corner of the room.

"Hey, you look... as if you're mangled," he said, scanning Ermand.

"Second DCT," Ermand replied.

"It started already? Did you pass?" He asked, his eyes were filled with anticipation.

"No."

"Oh dear," Jack rubbed his forehead. He seemed frustrated.

"I need to have a talk with you."

"Anytime."

"After the classes then. I'll come to your dorm--"

"Don't bother. I'll come to yours," he interjected with a nervous laugh.

After all the classes were over, Jack visited Ermand in his room.

"How do you feel now?" He asked, touching Ermand's shoulders.

"Much better than when that snake bit me."

"What was the atmosphere?"

"A forest. Looked more like Tenebre forest."

"Then it must have been the Tenebre forest. You don't know these guys-the Professors I mean. The locations they set for each of you are actual and that's the reason why you're injured like this. We thought it was just some kind of illusion on our first DCT but we're shocked to know that it was all real. They take us to real places, deadly places. Jason and I won in our second DCT, most of the students win during the second. I'm not depriving your mood but there are low possibilities for students to surpass the third DCT. Most of them don't make it till the end but are alive, of course. They're expelled way before the finals begins. Trust me, Ermand, I would've told you every detailed version of DCT but it changes variably every year. I can't even predict what your next DCT will be."

"Timothy told me it'll be demons."

"It could be demons. It's just a possibility but there are more possibilities to take into consideration, Ermand. There can be dragons, tiny but deadly creatures, Ficklefolks--"

"Ficklefolks?"

"Yeah. They're known to be the most dangerous and mischievous creatures in the deserted land of Tawarn. All of them seem like nice individuals unless they get near you. Trust me, you'd never figure out that they're Ficklefolks even if you chant this a hundred times into your head."

"Did you have experience with them?"

"No, but my friend did. He said they talk so sweet and normal that it'll be difficult to hold yourself from getting close to them. They've got dangerous enchantments with them that the Spellcasters are still in search of learning these from them."

"Do they hurt you very badly?"

"No physical harm but mental. You might feel relief but I'm warning you, Ficklefolks are extremely unpredictable. They dive into your head and cause a ruckus inside you that you'll feel like hurting yourself, drinking your own blood, breaking your own bones and finally into a hideous and unbearable death or... they eat you, alive-"

Ermand gasped, shifting from his position.

"Don't worry, the Professors will rescue you in time but the enchantment they inject into your brain will never leave you for a whole week. Some even stay in your head for months and years."

"How do I stay away from these Ficklefolks?"

"As I've told you, staying away from Ficklefolks is difficult. It's their strong enchantment to drive you toward them. Even if you can control yourself stronger, they'll try some ways to get close to you."

"So, I let them enchant me?"

"Never. There's this spell which is the only spell the Ficklefolks hate. Actually, I had learned this from one of the forbidden books in Tawarn. Don't ask me how I got and you're not going to say this to mum, dad or Jason. Are you?"

"No."

"That's my brother," he said, snapping his fingers. "So the spell actually is not a spell. It is a song. You're a good singer, are you?"

"I don't know. I seldom sing."

"Then prepare to be enchanted," he said and prepared to get up from the bed.

"Okay, okay, I'll try." Ermand leaned closer to Jack and held his arm while Jack stole a glance around the empty room.

"You fostered them bitterly but they learned to grow others betterly, what consequences it has caused would never affect you dearly. The Ficklefolks have lost the battle, the Ficklefolks have lost their glory. Their vicious plans and perilous enchantments can't rattle, for as long as the Protectors of Fire lie behind them, it's sorry."

"I have to sing these verses?"

"Yes, as sweet as possible. You should stress on the words - lost their glory and it's sorry. It kills them. The song reminds them of the battle between them and the Protectors where the Protectors finally take control of their territory. Although, the effect of the song won't last very long. You have to find some way to escape with your crystal. A portal will open before you on your way forward once you grab your crystal. By the way, what's the colour of your crystal?"

"No colour."

Jack arched his brows. "Really?" He asked.

"Yes," Ermand nodded.

"Alright then. I wish you the very best of luck. Don't forget the points I told you. Here are the verses, by heart them. And don't give or show this to anybody. Okay?"

"I won't."

"Bye," Jack said in a husky tone and stood up from his bed and walked toward the door.

"Jack," Ermand called him from behind. "Mum and dad sent me a knocketer."

"I know. They sent me one too," He replied, not turning his head at Ermand.

"I wish the year would end soon so that all of us could reunite in Uphill."

"I hope the same too," He whispered before he exited the room, leaving Ermand alone with the piece of paper in his hands.

What more could a brother do better than this?