Chapter 3: The Singler Camp
— Author's Note —
"Mamita" is a special affectionate nickname that the Singler children use to refer to their mother, Irlanda.
"Papito" is the same kind of tender nickname they use for their grandfather, Albert Singler.
We have kept these terms in the original Spanish to preserve the unique atmosphere and emotional tone of the family story.
I
The morning moved forward with a steady light over the cobbled paths that led to Singler Port, an expansive complex located next to Lake Passalune, from where the school ferries departed and arrived, connecting the mainland with the island of Singler School. Though it shared land with the camp, the port had its own infrastructure: wide floating platforms, roofed hangars for luggage, control towers, administrative offices with lakeview windows, climate-controlled waiting areas, and corridors organized by levels. The architecture combined dark wood and polished steel, maintaining an elegant yet functional style. Everything was carefully designed to welcome hundreds of students and staff without losing its air of exclusivity.
At that moment, the place vibrated with the energy of arrivals: luxury private cars, buses with the school crest coming from the city and the airport, and dozens of students walking alongside their families, surrounded by suitcases, cameras, and glances full of excitement.
The black limousine with the golden emblem of the Singler family turned onto an exclusive lane, separated from the main entrance by a row of orange cones and security guards. One of them, upon seeing the symbol engraved on the vehicle, raised the barrier immediately—without needing to ask a thing.
—Wow… —Matt whispered, his forehead pressed against the glass—. It looks like a giant theme park!
—Get ready, Mate —replied George from the other end, with a mischievous smile—. There are training zones, coliseums, watchtowers, competitions, and cabins with lake views. It's impossible to get bored.
Max, seated by the door, watched silently. Outside, the Singler Camp was unfolding like a living mural: cabins raised among trees, sports structures with sloped roofs, greenhouses behind dark glass, and pathways lined with blooming gardens. As they advanced, students were being greeted by coordinators at different checkpoints, all moving with precise coordination.
At the top of a nearby hill stood a modern helipad on raised platforms. A single black helicopter rested there, motionless. From that vantage point, between the trees, you could see the distant main island: the silhouette of an ancient and majestic castle, now turned into a school, surrounded by a small student town, green zones, and gentle hills. The legacy of Albert Singler—who had transformed a forgotten fortress into one of the most prestigious educational centers in the world—was reflected in that view.
In front of the newcomers, a large building with a dark wooden façade and polarized glass stood tall as the main entrance of the camp: it was the Administrative Building, where all students were registered before being assigned to their corresponding zones. The limousine stopped gently at the front, in a reserved area far from the general hustle.
Mr. White, impeccable in his suit, stepped out first. Seeing Steven Levies approach, he extended his hand formally.
—Mr. Levies —he greeted respectfully—. Always a pleasure.
—Mr. White —Steven replied with a slight nod—. Thank you for bringing them.
Steven Levies wore the official camp jacket: dark blue with wine-red accents and the golden school crest embroidered on the chest. He walked toward the arrivals with confident steps and a genuine smile.
—Welcome to the Singler Camp —he greeted—. I'm glad to see you all. This summer will be special.
George and Avel stepped toward their father first.
—Good morning, Dad —they said almost in unison.
—Hi, Steven —added Christine with a brief smile. Matt echoed her enthusiastically. Max greeted with a calm nod.
Steven looked at them with a mix of pride and responsibility. Then he took a flat case from the briefcase he carried.
—Mrs. Irlanda Singler sent you a little gift —he announced—. Temporary cards of the Obsidian Dark Blue level—the highest in the Meritum system. Max, Christine, Matt… here they are.
As he handed them out, he added:
—She was also generous enough to extend cards to Avel and George. She said that this summer, more than ever, you need to stay together. Mamita sends her love and warm memories.
—This is awesome! —George exclaimed as he looked at his card, full of awe and excitement—. I've never had one of these before!
—Hold onto it tight —joked Avel, glancing at her brother with a half-smile—. Don't lose it before we even get to the cabin.
Steven let out a short laugh and then guided them toward a nearby area, where an interactive screen was embedded in a low structure, like a vertical glass table. As they approached, the screen lit up automatically, displaying the camp map with sharp details and color-coded zones.
—This is one of our orientation points —explained Steven, as the screen, set in a stone-and-glass structure at torso height, lit up softly with a gentle sound—. Here you can check the full camp map and look at the main zones.
Within seconds, the map expanded clearly. Defined icons began blinking over different areas: Zone A, assigned to first-year students; Zone B, dedicated to music and visual arts classes; the Grand Open Coliseum, an arena surrounded by stands where ceremonies, games, and summer shows took place; the greenhouses; the restaurant and common areas; the cabins divided by levels—Wine Topaz, Golden Diamond, and Dark Blue Obsidian—and the ferry dock, marked with a glowing silhouette. Also present in key spots were small security towers discreetly overseeing the lake's surroundings.
—George, Max —he added—, take Matt to Zone A. There you'll find Professor Amanda Clarke, first-year advisor. She'll guide him through the rest of the day.
—And you guys? —asked George, glancing at his sister.
—Christine and I are heading to our Obsidian cabins —replied Avel, already walking with purpose—. I'm so excited!
Christine sighed, crouched slightly, and hugged Matt tightly but not overly sentimental.
—Don't get lost —she told him quietly—. And don't do anything silly.
Matt nodded with a smile, not looking the slightest bit offended.
Steven then pointed toward the far end of the dock, where the ferries rested with their engines off.
—Remember that from here the ferries head to the school —he said—. All students will ride one on the day of the opening ceremony. You'll see, it's an unforgettable experience.
—They look like spaceships from a movie —Matt said, amazed.
The group began to split up—some following the paths to the cabins, others approaching the information screens. The clear sky and fresh breeze marked the official start of summer. And with it, the promise of a new story.
II
The path where Max, George, and Matt were walking curved gently among tall, lush trees, leaving behind the welcome area. As they advanced, the initial bustle of the port faded away, replaced by the forest's natural murmur and the soft crunch of gravel under their feet. The sunlight, still gentle, filtered golden glimmers through the leaves, and small flags hung from wooden posts along the way, all bearing the school's colors: deep blue, gold, burgundy, and silver.
The air was filled with the scent of pine and damp earth, and although the camp was an elite place, everything in its design seemed to pay homage to nature. The buildings visible along the path—offices, classroom modules, shared spaces—didn't look cold or ostentatious: they were built from dark wood and eco-glass, with sloped roofs, internal courtyards full of native plants, and solar panels camouflaged under climbing vines. Even the interactive screens used to guide students seemed to emerge from polished stone or aged wood.
—I've never been to a camp before —Matt said, spinning around to take in the view—. And this one looks like one of the best!
—It's more than just a camp —George replied with a playful smile—. This place holds secrets… and many stories.
Matt looked up at the treetops, still captivated by the place. Then he lowered his voice slightly and moved closer to Max and George.
—By the way… before coming here, I found something weird at the mansion —Matt said, lowering his voice—. But I don't know if it's important.
—A spider? —George joked.
—No, something… old. You'll see.
Max gave a faint smile, distracted by a group of girls passing in the distance.
—Probably just one of those old things Dad keeps —he replied without much interest.
Matt hesitated for a moment. He had thought about showing them the ring… but since neither of them seemed to be paying attention, he decided not to insist. He shrugged silently, keeping the secret to himself like a tiny treasure.
The path split again. Instead of continuing toward the first-year zone, George turned onto a wider trail that led toward a large roofed structure, surrounded by wooden walkways and neatly trimmed gardens.
—Before we drop Matt off with the first-years, I want to show you this —George said, pointing ahead—. It's the scholarship evaluation zone. Every year, students from all over the world come here to try their luck. Some are from the U.S., others from Europe, Asia, Africa… from everywhere.
The building was a kind of semi-circular pavilion, with huge tinted-glass windows and roofs covered with solar panels. Outside, dozens of families were sitting on wooden benches or leaning against the railings. You could feel the tension, but also hope. Many of them came from humble backgrounds: mothers in simple clothes, fathers with calloused hands, teenagers with worn-out backpacks but determined eyes.
—The school covers everything for them —George explained—. Exams, housing, food. They even let their families stay for a few days. No one here starts at the top. If they make it, it's because they deserve it.
Max watched in silence, feeling a soft knot in his throat. There was something deep in that scene. A reminder that even in a world of privilege, there was still room for struggle, for merit… and for dreams.
After a few minutes of observing, they returned to the main path. The first-year area wasn't far.
—Are you ready to meet your teacher? —Max asked, breaking the silence with a light smile—. They say the first-year group is the biggest one in camp.
—Of course, it's mandatory for everyone —added George—. Some even come with their parents from faraway countries. A lot of stories start here… and a lot of friendships.
Soon they reached a wide clearing where the forest seemed to part naturally, giving way to a warm and welcoming zone. Light-colored wooden structures, with modern thatched roofs and stone columns, formed a sort of natural reception area. There were rustic benches beneath pergolas draped in flowers, information panels embedded into green walls, and small streams running gently along the sides of the path.
Several dozen first-year students were there with their parents or guardians. Some were taking photos, others hugging with emotion, and many looking around with the perfect mix of nerves and wonder.
A young teacher, wearing round glasses, her curly hair tied in a high braid, and a contagious smile, was flipping through a folder as she moved from group to group. When she saw the three boys approaching, she stopped and greeted them in a clear voice.
—Hi! Welcome to first year. You must be…?
Before she could continue, George stepped forward naturally.
—Professor Clarke, good morning. I'm George Levies, I was in your group two summers ago. This is Matt Singler. And that's Max, his brother.
The teacher raised her eyebrows, visibly surprised by the surname.
—Singler? —she repeated, with a mix of respect and curiosity—. Wow… it's a pleasure to have you here. I've heard many good things about your family. Welcome, Matt.
Some parents and nearby students also turned to look upon hearing the name. One child even whispered something to his mother, who nodded subtly.
—I'm Professor Amanda Clarke —she continued warmly—. And I'll be in charge of the first-years this summer. I hope you really enjoy this experience. This is the start of a great adventure.
Matt smiled shyly, but also with enthusiasm.
—Can I leave my backpack?
—Of course, leave it with me. In a few minutes, we'll all head to the Coliseum for the opening ceremony.
Max gave his brother a pat on the shoulder.
—See you later, champ.
Matt nodded. He followed Professor Clarke as she guided him through the other students who were already beginning to form small groups. His small, but determined figure slowly disappeared among the colors and sounds of the camp.
Max and George stood in silence for a few seconds.
—He'll be fine —Max said with a soft smile.
—More than fine —replied George, and together they turned down the path.
The trail led them to a higher area of the camp, where the Obsidian-level cabins began to appear among the trees. A small plaque of aged bronze hung above the entrance of one of them, with finely engraved letters reading: Obsidian 3. The cabin sat at the end of a stone-paved path, slightly elevated on a hill that gently sloped down toward the lake. Around it were perfectly trimmed bushes, iron lanterns, and tall pine trees that created a peaceful, almost magical atmosphere. The air smelled of wood, resin, and clean earth.
—This place feels magical —Max said as they climbed the three steps to the entrance—. It doesn't feel like a cabin… more like a luxury home in the forest.
—Being friends with the family definitely has its perks —George added, tapping the card on his forehead like a trophy.
The structure stood elegant and solid, like a small mountain house designed with care. It combined treated wood with dark metal details and wide windows that reflected the surroundings. The walls were made of smooth logs, reinforced with thick pillars, and the sloped roof of black tiles shimmered slightly under the sun.
Beside the porch, a private terrace opened toward the lake, with wicker chairs, a small round table, and further back, a semi-covered jacuzzi set into the wooden deck. The calm waters of the lake peeked between the trees, like a moving painting. The place seemed built for comfort and rest.
George swiped his card at the digital reader next to the door. A blue light turned on softly, followed by a metallic click.
They entered.
The interior was split into two levels, connected by a curved wooden staircase that started from a cozy central lounge. The first floor had a small living room with an electric fireplace, a Persian rug, and cream-colored armchairs in front of a large panoramic window. To one side, an open kitchen with natural wood cabinets, a modern coffee machine, and a tray of delicately arranged snacks. Everything looked hand-picked.
The bedrooms were on the second floor. Three identical doors, one for each of them, with numbers engraved on copper plaques. Max stepped toward his, but before he could open it, a lock clicked. One of the adjacent doors opened slowly, and from it emerged a tall young man, walking calmly. He had golden skin, a neatly trimmed short beard, and wore a dark blue hoodie embroidered in gold: the official jacket of the school's football team. Around his neck hung an Obsidian card, with a metallic border, his photo, and his name written in fine letters.
—George Levies —he greeted in a calm and polite voice—. Nice to see you here.
—Kumail! —George responded, a mix of surprise and joy—. I didn't know you were staying in this cabin.
—They assigned it to me this morning. I must say, I was surprised to see you with an Obsidian card.
George shrugged, amused.
—Just for the summer. A gift… from my friend Max's grandmother.
Kumail nodded with a soft smile.
—A very generous gesture. I'm glad to share the cabin with you both.
He turned to Max with courtesy.
—Kumail Sherwani —he introduced himself, placing a hand on his chest—. A pleasure to meet you.
—Max Singler —Max replied, returning the gesture with a smile.
—I've heard a lot about the Singlers —Kumail added in a neutral but respectful tone—. Glad to be sharing this space with you.
He set a book down on his bed, put on a dark cap, and checked his watch.
—See you at the Coliseum.
He left through the door with the same calm he had arrived.
As soon as his footsteps faded, Max opened his room.
The room was warm and perfectly tidy. A single bed with a sturdy frame, white sheets with blue embroidery, a small desk with an amber glass reading lamp. The wooden walls gave the sensation of being wrapped in the forest.
He approached the bed to drop off his backpack… and that's when he saw it.
An envelope.
It was there, on the pillow, as if someone had placed it carefully before he arrived. It was made of antique ivory-colored paper, with a rough texture and slightly uneven edges. No postal seal, no full name, just one word, written in black ink in a firm and elegant hand:
SINGLER
Max picked it up carefully. He felt the paper crunch softly beneath his fingers. On the back flap, there was a symbol he didn't recognize: an equilateral triangle, and from each vertex, a thin line curved inward, forming an incomplete circle.
—George… —he called softly, not taking his eyes off the envelope—. Do you have anything like this?
George appeared at the doorway, curious.
—What's that? A letter?
Max showed him the front without letting go.
—It was on my bed. It just says Singler.
George shook his head and stepped closer.
—No, nothing for me. And I don't think Kumail got anything either… Are you going to open it?
Max hesitated. His finger traced the edge of the seal.
—Later —he whispered.
Gently, he slid the envelope into the inner pocket of his hoodie. George didn't ask again.
They both left the room. The lake in front of the cabin looked still, like an expectant mirror. The branches swayed slowly, and in the distance, the murmur of hundreds of voices began to rise.
The welcome was about to begin.
And the envelope, though hidden, was still there. Waiting.
III
The midday sun was high, casting soft shadows between the artificial palm trees that lined the entrance to the coliseum. A warm breeze stirred the garlands of flowers and green leaves that decorated the wooden railings, while golden lights hung from one end to the other, giving the feeling of stepping into a tropical celebration.
Max and George walked among the crowd heading toward the stands, surrounded by students receiving welcoming floral necklaces. With every step, new details emerged: stands with exotic fruits, tables with trays of colorful snacks, opened coconuts served with straws, juice fountains, and natural ice cream. Everything had a festive, joyful, and elegant air.
—This is next level… —said George, as he accepted a necklace of purple flowers from a smiling assistant.
—It doesn't even feel like a school ceremony —replied Max—. It's like a party on the beach at a luxury resort.
—Welcome to academic paradise —laughed George, giving him a gentle nudge.
At that moment, a familiar voice interrupted their conversation.
—Max! George!
They both turned. Matt was jogging toward them through the groups, out of breath but smiling. He was wearing his floral necklace and a fabric bracelet that identified him as a first-year student.
—What are you doing here? —asked Max, raising his eyebrows.
—I ran away —said Matt without remorse—. But I already made a friend. Her name is Wu. She's from China. And she speaks three languages!
—How fast do you talk to know all that? —teased George.
—Fast —replied Matt, and they all laughed.
The three of them continued walking until they reached the main entrance of the coliseum. There, in front of the central stage, several teachers and school staff were seated in the principal rows. Among them, sitting straight with a warm gaze, Steven Levies was waiting for them.
—I knew you wouldn't last long with the first-years —he said to Matt as soon as he saw him.
—It's better this way —replied Matt—. Everything looks more fun here.
Steven then turned to Max, Matt, and George, and lowered his voice slightly, as if sharing a secret.
—I've got a little surprise for you.
And he stepped aside.
There she was.
Julia.
Wearing a short summer skirt, a card hanging from her neck, and an expression that mixed excitement with nerves. Her hair was tied in a low ponytail, and her blue eyes followed every movement. Almost as tall as Max and George. She was the same girl who had grown up with them, and yet, she looked like a completely new teenager.
—Hi —she said softly, her Russian accent as charming as ever.
Max froze. George blinked, surprised.
—Julia? —asked Matt, as if his mind still needed confirmation.
She nodded, smiling shyly.
—I arrived a few days ago. I wasn't sure they'd accept me. But here I am.
—How…? —began George, not knowing what else to say.
Steven stepped in naturally.
—Not all students arrive the same way —he said calmly—. Some are expected. Others surprise us. And sometimes… that makes all the difference.
Julia lowered her gaze for a second but held her ground.
—As a new student, I was assigned to the summer camp.
Max finally reacted and stepped toward her.
—I'm glad you're here —he said with a sincere smile.
—Yeah —added George—. This already feels like old times.
Matt raised an eyebrow.
—And me? Am I not enough?
—You're chaos, now and always —said George, ruffling his hair.
Julia laughed with them. The atmosphere lightened, felt real. As if summer had truly just begun.
—Let's go —said Steven—. The ceremony is about to start.
They entered the coliseum together. The white stands glistened under the sun, and from above, all the tropical decorations stretched out like a sea of color. Simulated torches lit up with natural gas, and groups of students were already taking their seats, chatting and laughing. In the center, a stage decorated with tribal symbols and traditional fabrics awaited the main speaker.
To the side, themed food stands offered Hawaii-inspired dishes: skewers of tropical fruit, juices served in pineapples, small plates with fresh fish, and edible decorations. It was a festival. One that celebrated the beginning of something big.
The giant screens lit up.
And, in that instant, he appeared.
Oguz Williams.
He stepped onto the stage with a calm and firm gait. He wore a short-sleeved white linen shirt, beige pants, and rectangular dark glasses. He wasn't a particularly expressive man, but his Turkish elegance, clean-shaven charming face, precise posture, and lifted chin were enough to command respect.
—Good afternoon, everyone —he began, with a deep and steady voice—. Welcome officially to Aloha Singler, the event that opens the Singler Summer Camp.
The murmur faded.
—Over the next two weeks, you'll experience more than a summer course. Here, competitions are born. Here, champions are made. This is a place where many people dream of being.
The screens displayed images of the camp: past competitions, moments of victory, applause, tears, celebrations.
—I don't need to explain what you already know —Oguz said, calm yet firm—. But for the new students, there's something you must understand from now: the cards hanging around your necks are not just identification. They are part of the Meritum System, the structure that organizes everything we are as a community.
He paused. On the giant screens appeared a solemn image: three cards suspended against a dark background, glowing with their own light.
—There are three levels:
Wine Topaz, the base level. It's the starting point for all new students and those who have yet to earn significant merits.
Golden Diamond, for those who have shown perseverance, leadership, and excellence across various fields: academic, sports, and social.
And finally, Dark Blue Obsidian… the rarest, the most coveted. Only a few receive it. You don't apply for it. You earn it. And it's never handed out without reason.
The images changed: students crossing automatic doors, entering private libraries, shops, clubs, and advanced study zones. Others used their cards to pay for food, event entries, or special materials.
—With these cards, you'll be able to shop, move around, and access areas within the camp and the Singler School. But more importantly… they reflect who you are —and who you can become.
Oguz let silence do its part. Then, his gaze sharpened.
—During your time here, your cards can change. And they will —depending on your choices. The Meritum System observes, measures, and records. Every achievement, every mistake, every attitude… leaves a trace.
On the screens, a brief animation showed a card leveling up: names appeared on boards, points increased, rewards were unlocked.
—This summer is just beginning.
The music rose softly. And with a subtle change of tone, Oguz introduced what everyone had been waiting for: the competition.
—The camp includes various activities: level-based workshops, group sports, physical challenges, and hands-on classes. This isn't just a break from the academic year… it's an extension of the Singler excellence. But beyond that, there's something that sets this camp apart from any other: the Summer Games.
The screens displayed fragments from previous years. Teams racing through trails, jumping ropes, fencing duels, solving riddles in special rooms.
—The Games aren't mandatory —Oguz continued—. But almost everyone chooses to participate. Each grade competes internally. Only one per level will be named winner. The top three will be recognized. And that title… it's not just a label. It grants Meritum points, access to special projects, unique privileges… and for some, it might mean a promotion in the system.
Max and George exchanged glances.
—You're really going for it this year? —George whispered.
—Aren't you? —Max replied with a smile.
—I never win because I always go to Russia to visit you. This year… no excuses.
The screens flashed with fast clips of activities: zip lines, natural mazes, water games, fencing. Just hints. Enough to make the students imagine what was coming.
—In the end —said Oguz, in a lower voice—, one student from each grade will rise as champion. But make no mistake. The winner here… isn't the strongest. It's the most complete.
In the dim light of the stage, Oguz paused briefly.
And at that moment, among the crowd, his eyes settled in one direction.
Where Max was.
It lasted a second.
But it was enough.
Max didn't notice.
And the wind, in that moment, carried the soft sound of drums.
—Enjoy —concluded Oguz—. Because this… is only the beginning.
Warm lights came on all over the coliseum. A Hawaiian dance show began, with traditional music, fire stunts, and tribal dances under the torches. Students applauded, stood up, some started to dance. It was a celebration.
Julia leaned toward Max with a smile.
—Now it really feels like an unforgettable summer.
And Max, without hesitation, nodded.
—It will be.
IV
After the Aloha Singler event, while the lights of the coliseum still twinkled and the sky began to turn orange, many students started walking toward the bonfire area by the lake—a tradition on the first day of camp. It wasn't night yet, but the sun had already begun to hide behind the trees.
The first bonfires were already being lit along the shore of Lake Passalune, casting golden reflections on the calm water. Laughter, a few improvised songs, and the distant sound of instruments echoed in the air. The scent of burning wood, fresh fruit, and the promise of adventure lingered all around.
Matt was walking alone, exploring the paths that connected the various bonfire zones. His Obsidian card hung from his neck, discreetly glimmering under the light of the torches. He had said he'd return to George and Max, but he got distracted. It was hard not to, in a place like this.
That was when he saw her.
She was sitting alone on a wooden bench in front of a small fire that barely crackled. Wu Siyu—although at school, everyone had already started calling her Esthela, her Western name. She wore a light jacket over her shoulders, her dark hair cut neatly to her shoulders in a practical style. Her round glasses reflected the firelight, and her eyes, observant but calm, lifted when she saw him approaching.
—Can I sit here? —asked Matt, with a confident smile.
—Sure —she replied, nodding slightly—. We saw each other today.
—I know. I told my brother you're my first friend at camp. Wu, right?
She nodded with a small smile.
—Wu Siyu is my real name. But my parents told me I could use an easier one in other languages. So they also call me Esthela.
—Esthela sounds nice —said Matt—. But Siyu too… it sounds like the name of a legendary warrior.
Esthela wasn't sure whether to laugh or not, but it was clear the compliment pleased her. Matt took something out of his jacket pocket: the old ring with the engraved four-leaf clover.
—I found this before coming. In an old box, at the mansion. It's strange… like it was waiting for me.
Esthela looked at it more closely. The ring was simple, but elegant. It didn't shine, but seemed to contain something ancient, almost alive.
—It looks… special —she said in a quiet but clear voice.
And just as Matt turned it between his fingers to show it better, a dark, thin, undefined shadow crossed quickly along the ground, right at the edge of the fire. It lasted only a moment. As if something had passed between the trees behind them.
Esthela tensed. She didn't scream, didn't stand, but her body froze for a second. Matt noticed that she had seen something.
—Are you okay?
—I saw… something —she whispered—. Like a shadow.
Matt turned his head. The forest was still. The lake too. Only the fire crackled softly.
—Maybe it was a leaf… or a bug —he said, brushing it off—. There are a lot around here.
Esthela didn't insist, but her eyes kept watching the same spot for a moment longer. Matt put the ring back in his pocket.
—Did you know my card is Obsidian? —he said confidently, as if changing the topic—. It's like… the most powerful one. You can buy anything and go anywhere. Mamita gave it to me. She's… well, she's a Singler.
Esthela nodded, without envy or surprise.
—We don't have cards yet. My brother and I are scholarship students. We got in through exams.
—Do you live in China?
—No, I live nearby, in the city of Drakestone. With my parents and my brother, Wu Que. We have a restaurant… Chinese food, of course —she added with a slight smile—. But we also sell cheese soup.
Matt burst out laughing.
—Cheese soup! That's a weird but fun combo.
—It is —she said—. Just like everything in this camp.
They were silent for a few seconds. The fire, the lake, the distant voices… everything felt vast, yet welcoming.
—Do you want to go find the others? —Matt asked, getting to his feet—. I bet George is already shouting for me.
Esthela hesitated for a moment. Then she nodded.
—Yes… let's go.
They walked back together along the lit path. This time, closer. Without saying much more. But something had changed.
They didn't fully know each other yet.
But they were already friends.
V
The sky, clear and sprinkled with stars, seemed to wrap the entire camp in a silent spell. Countless bonfires lit the edges of the lake, casting orange glimmers on the still water. The air was filled with the scent of burnt wood, hot chocolate, and a humid breeze.
The bonfire zone was one of the largest in the camp. A natural open area surrounded the lake, covered with blankets, rustic benches, and small wooden platforms where students sat freely. The flames provided warmth, but also created a cozy atmosphere. Marshmallows spun on sticks, some students sang, while others simply stared at the black waters of the lake.
Among the trees, teachers and a few members of the camp's security team strolled quietly, all holding flashlights. They didn't interrupt the conversations, but their silent presence helped keep things in order. The open bonfire was a sacred tradition of the first night.
Max, Julia, and George hadn't yet chosen a spot to sit. There were many available fire pits, so they just kept walking along one of the softly lit torch-lined paths. They weren't looking for anything specific—just a quiet place. They kept walking, even moving a bit farther from the main area. The music faded behind them, as did the chatter of the others.
It was Max who noticed the small grassy slope that descended toward a hidden corner of the lake, slightly concealed by a natural arch of interwoven branches. The waters lay before them, and beyond, on the horizon, the island of Singler Academy rose majestically. The castle, though distant, was visible: dark, tall, almost mythical under the moon.
—This looks good. Seems like a nice spot, and the view is great —he said, glancing around.
The three of them sat on the damp grass, beneath a starry sky that seemed brighter from that spot. For a while, no one spoke.
Julia hugged her knees, her gaze fixed on the reflection of the distant castle.
—My mother cried when I was accepted —she said suddenly, her voice soft—. She always wanted my sister and me to study here, just like she and my aunt did. But my sister doesn't want to come. She's happy in Russia.
Max and George exchanged a glance, both remembering Masha for a moment. She had been part of their childhood group too.
—And how did you get into the school? —asked George, with genuine curiosity.
Julia took a deep breath and smiled.
—I studied hard for years —she said honestly—. I knew that if I wanted to be here, I had to earn it. And I did.
Max lay back on the grass, his hands behind his head.
—Mamita owns the school —he said calmly—. If you want, I can ask her to get you an Obsidian card like ours. She's always been fond of you… and of your sister Masha.
Julia looked at him and laughed softly, with that graceful calm so typical of her.
—Thank you… but that's not necessary. My mom and Aunt Irina were both on scholarships too when they studied here. I'm not ashamed. It actually makes me feel closer to them.
Max shifted slightly on the grass, wearing a faint smile.
—I never really understood why we all drifted apart —he said, not looking directly at Julia—. One day we were all together at the mansion, growing up… and the next, everything changed.
Julia lowered her gaze, twirling a blade of grass between her fingers.
—I didn't understand it either —she replied sincerely—. Adults make decisions we don't always understand.
Silence settled again for a few seconds, until Max sat up and pulled out the envelope he'd kept since that morning.
—I found this in the cabin. It was on my bed.
It was an old envelope, made of thick paper with worn edges. In the center, a single word written in black ink:
SINGLER
And on the flap, the unknown symbol: a triangle with three curved lines forming a perfect circle.
Julia leaned closer. George tilted forward for a better look.
Max opened it carefully. Inside were three folded pages, all handwritten in black ink. He unfolded them one by one, and the three of them leaned in.
The first one read:
Are you ready?
This summer is not like the others.
This place, disguised as a camp, hides something unique.
A treasure with no name, but with power.
One that belongs neither to this time…
…nor to this world.
Only one will find it.
Only one will understand it.
But he won't do it alone.
(At the bottom, hand-drawn, the same symbol from the flap.)
The second page contained a longer riddle, in an even more detailed handwriting:
At the foot of the apple tree where shadows do not grow,
under the roots of what blooms without season,
lies the beginning of everything.
Do not seek gold or glory.
Seek the fruit.
Do not bite it. Do not take it.
Remember.
What was once said… can become true again.
Three trees. One sign.
Where the dew does not fall…
There the story begins.
And on the third page, a story. Written like an ancient tale:
There was once a wish so powerful it changed the shape of the world.
It was hidden. Buried. Forgotten.
It can only be found by those who still believe.
Some say it was kept in a stone.
Others, that it was planted like a seed.
But all stories agree on one thing:
Whoever finds it…
can make the impossible happen.
Only once.
Only if their heart is sincere.
When Max lowered the final page, silence fell.
—This is real… —he said quietly.
Julia's eyes widened in amazement. George rubbed the back of his neck.
—I swear, Max… you're always dreaming up these things —he joked.
Max didn't respond. He was staring at the lake, but not really seeing it.
He was the first to speak again, in a quiet but firm voice:
—What if we look for it? The three of us.
Julia and George looked at him. And nodded at the same time.
Behind them, the bonfires continued to glow. In the distance, laughter and songs could still be heard, but in that little corner of the lake, everything felt different. More intimate. More ancient.
The three of them stared at the water in silence, as if waiting for something to rise from the depths.
That's when they heard light footsteps along the path.
—Ah! Finally found you —said Matt, emerging from the bushes with a girl at his side—. You really picked the most hidden place, huh?
Max looked up. Matt pointed to his companion.
—This is Esthela —he said proudly—. She's my friend. She's from China. And she speaks three languages.
Esthela nodded with a small, shy smile.
—Hi —she said softly.
—Hey —George replied kindly.
Julia returned a quiet smile. Max nodded as well, without saying anything else.
Matt and Esthela sat next to them, unaware they had just interrupted something special.
From his spot, Max remained silent. The envelope was still in his pocket. The mystery, untouched.
The five of them looked out over the lake. The sky reflected its light on the dark waters, and the night continued to unfold.
Each one of them, without knowing it, had just discovered something new.
Something strange.
Something that would change them forever.
And even if none of them knew it for sure…
that night, something important had begun.