The Scavenger Disciple Chapter 1

A new saying spreads across the Arcane Realms: "In good times, trust the First Blade. In hard times, the Second Star. In despair, only the Junior Disciple can save you."

Thanks to Grandmaster Elara's new apprentice Rosalyn, our Celestial Apex Order now has all three legendary roles:

Kaelen (First Blade): The righteous leader

Lyra (Second Star): The silent warrior

Rosalyn (Junior Disciple): The charming actress

But I'm Fiora, the forgotten Third Disciple. While others shine - like handsome Alaric (Fourth) and sharp-tongued Theron (Fifth) - I tend my vegetables and chickens, invisible to all.

When Grandmaster entered seclusion a century ago, she declared: "The Order's future rests on them!" Yet I remain a ghost in these halls.

I once overheard some Inner Circle Adepts offering new initiates advice: "The First Blade upholds rigid decorum. The Second Star's combat lessons are brutal. The Fourth Disciple is handsome and harbors no grudges. Don't cross the Fifth Disciple; he has royal backing. And the new Junior Disciple is innocently charming."

The initiates, fresh from the Outer Circle after years of grueling effort, wore expressions of utter bewilderment. "The Third Disciple? Is that a brother or sister? Which glorious battle claimed their life?"

The Inner Circle Adept hesitated, his confidence wavering. "Uh… the Third Disciple should be alive."

"And what about warnings concerning the Third Disciple?"

"I… I can't recall. Hey, you, Senior Adept! Do you remember anything about the Third Disciple?"

Listening to them discuss me, I calmly responded, "I don't remember."

I didn't even bother to watch their flustered expressions, simply returned to digging for earthworms.

Today's gossip from the Celestial Apex Order:

"Junior Disciple cried after delivering a potion for the Second Star. Poor dear."

"The First Blade reprimanded the Second Star for being cold-hearted, now they're in a cold war. Scary, scary."

"The Fourth Disciple encountered an old foe, chose to let bygones be bygones. Admirable, admirable."

"The Fifth Disciple gave nicknames to various Elders and is now wanted for insubordination. Curious, curious."

"That pair of white rabbits in the back garden had a litter of black kits, sparking rumors of infidelity. Such a pity."

"..."

Even the rabbits get more mentions than me. The Third Disciple is so low-key, it’s as if I don’t even exist.

I drifted against the flow of students leaving their blade lessons, admiring the overflowing basin of earthworms. All that hard work hadn't gone to waste.

But when I pushed open my courtyard gate, I found all the main characters from today's gossip already there.

Kaelen, the First Blade, a man of imposing bearing, stood with his hands clasped behind his back, lecturing: "How could you say the Elder of Lore looks like an eggplant, the Elder of Runes like a potato, and the Elder of Discipline like a bell pepper?"

Theron, the Fifth Disciple, slouched lazily in my favorite sun-drenched rocking chair. "One purple, one yellow, one green," he drawled. "Makes for a perfect stir-fry of three garden delights."

Beside him, Alaric, the Fourth Disciple, a youth of peerless beauty, lifted a sleeve, a faint, ethereal smile gracing his features.

"Worms! First Blade, I'm so scared!" Rosalyn, the Junior Disciple, a delicate and charming girl, flung herself onto Kaelen. I could clearly see Lyra, the Second Star, her sword hand free, her fingertips white with suppressed tension.

This Junior Disciple was Grandmaster Elara’s latest apprentice, taken on three years ago when she unexpectedly emerged from seclusion for half an hour, only to descend the mountain and return with Rosalyn. “Innocently charming” was the general consensus among the male apprentices. “A manipulative charmer” was the common opinion among the female apprentices.

As for what I thought… This was the first time I'd ever laid eyes on her. Was this truly the savior in times of despair?

Grandmaster Elara's second departure into seclusion made the initiation ritual a hurried affair. I hadn’t made it back from the village below in time, and no one had even noticed my absence. All of Grandmaster Elara's chosen scions were supposedly present. As for the other four, it had been a hundred years since I last saw them, hadn't it?

Kaelen, the First Blade, continued to soothe Rosalyn’s feigned sobs. It was a long while before he finally noticed me, squatting on the ground, dividing earthworms, utterly lacking in presence. He looked at me. "Uh…"

I nodded in understanding. "No need to say my name."

Kaelen's handsome face flushed with embarrassment. "Third Disciple, the Mystic Realm has opened."

I snatched my little chick, nearly bald from Theron’s excessive petting, from his hand. "I’m not going."