Chapter 3: The Singler Camp
I
The black limousine moved slowly along the side lane leading into Camp Singler, bypassing the long line of family vehicles waiting their turn at the main gate. To one side, a checkpoint allowed entry only to authorized personnel and special vehicles. As soon as the guards recognized the golden emblem on the car, the barriers lifted without question, clearing the way through an exclusive lane.
—Wow… —Matt murmured, his face pressed to the window. —It's huge!
—Get ready, Mate —said George from the other side of the limo with a mischievous grin. —This place has everything.
Christine glanced away from the rearview mirror with a nostalgic smile.
—The first time we came here was when Erine was your age, Matt. We all came to see her off… but we were so little, we barely understood what this place was.
From the seat by the door, Max observed in silence. The vegetation along the road was dense, almost magical, with tall trees and paths that opened toward modern wooden cabins, sports facilities, vast gardens, and a running track. Scattered throughout were small screens with interactive digital maps that students touched to locate camp zones or check announcements and activity schedules—like in a theme park.
Ahead of them, an imposing sign marked the main entrance:
—Welcome to Camp Singler – Summer 2007
—Where every adventure opens the door to an unexpected future
Across the complex, a rectangular helipad could be seen between the trees. A single helicopter remained parked there, causing no stir. Some students arrived in luxury cars without their parents. Others, with modest luggage, walked beside their families, gazing at the surroundings in awe.
The limousine stopped in front of a cobbled area, where a group of camp staff immediately approached to collect the luggage directly from the vehicle. They were young people wearing camp T-shirts, all smiling and well-organized.
Professor Steven Levies, wearing his dark blue sports jacket with wine-red accents and the school's golden crest embroidered on the chest, waited near the welcome point. He smiled as he saw them step out of the car and approached with confident steps.
—Welcome to camp —he greeted in a firm, cheerful voice. —I'm glad to see you all. This summer will be special.
George and Avel were the first to approach their father respectfully.
—Good morning, Dad —they said almost in unison.
—Hi, Steven —said Christine, and Matt echoed her. Max greeted him with a smile.
Steven looked at them with pride.
—Mamita sent a little gift for you —he said, pulling a flat case from the briefcase he carried. —Temporary sapphire-level cards. Max, Christine, Matt… here you go.
As he handed them out, he added:
—She was also kind enough to send provisional cards for Avel and George, so you can spend the summer together. Mamita remembers you fondly.
—Awesome! —George said, taking his card with a mix of pride and awe. —I've never had a sapphire one before…
Avel smiled and teased her brother,
—Better keep it safe. You might lose it before you even get to the cabin.
Steven chuckled softly and then pointed to one of the interactive screens scattered throughout the camp, right next to an information booth.
—You can use these maps to find your way around. They're touch-sensitive and show all the main areas: the cabins, the open-air coliseum, the greenhouses, the sports fields, the lake, the dock… They even update with schedules and important announcements.
He stepped closer to one of the screens and activated it with a tap. The camp map appeared on a clear, modern interface.
—George, Max, walk Matt over here —he said, pointing to the first-year reception area on the map. —The teacher in charge of the new students will be there. She's excellent—she'll handle everything.
—What about you? —Max asked, looking at his sister.
—Avel and I are heading to the Sapphire Cabins —Christine replied, already walking with confidence. —See you in a bit.
Christine leaned down and hugged her younger brother tightly.
—And don't get lost, Matt —she whispered warmly. —You know where to find us if anything happens.
They all began to split up, blending into the hundreds of students filling the camp's paths. The morning sun lit the entrance to a new chapter—a brand-new beginning.
II
Max, George, and Matt walked along one of the main paths, moving away from the welcome area. The morning sun lit up the trees, and a soft breeze rustled the flags of Singler Camp, hanging from metallic posts scattered throughout the grounds.
—I've never been to a camp before! —Matt said, looking around with excitement—. And this one looks like one of the best!
—Get ready, —George replied with a knowing smile—. This place has everything.
As they crossed a small walkway between two classroom modules, Matt suddenly stopped. He looked both ways, stepped closer to his brothers, and lowered his voice.
—I didn't tell anyone… but before coming here, I found something, —he said, rummaging in his pocket.
He pulled out a small ring made of dark metal. In the center, a four-leaf clover was engraved. It didn't shine much, but the design was old, elegant… and strange.
Max glanced at it briefly.
—Where did you get that?
—From the west wing of the mansion, —Matt explained—. There was this old room, full of boxes and covered furniture… and I found it there. It was inside a small box, like it had been stored away for years. When I saw it, I felt like… I don't know, like it was waiting for me.
George leaned in, curious, but with the typical calm of someone who didn't believe in anything magical just yet.
—You think it's magic?
—I don't know, —Matt said, lowering his voice—. But I want to find out. I don't want anyone else to see it. Just you two. I feel like… there's something special about it.
—Maybe it belonged to papito Albert or mamita Irlanda, —Max suggested, not giving it too much importance—. They loved collecting weird things.
Matt carefully slipped it back into his pocket, as if he were carrying a secret.
They walked a few more steps, passing by a semi-circular layout of classroom modules. Several first-year students were already there, waiting.
—This is the place, —George said—. Here's where the new students gather—and also where scholarship kids take their entrance exams.
—Scholarship? —Max repeated, puzzled—. There are scholarship students at the Academy?
—Of course, —George replied—. It's hard to get in, but every year they offer spots to brilliant students who can't afford tuition. It's tradition at the school.
Just then, a familiar voice stopped them.
—Max?
All three of them turned at once. Julia was standing on the other side of the path, accompanied by a small group of students heading toward one of the classrooms. She wore a backpack over her shoulder, and her hair was tied back simply.
—Julia? —George said, surprised.
—It's really you! —Matt laughed.
Max stood still for a moment. He hadn't seen her in years, but her Russian accent was just as strong, and her presence just as natural as when they were kids.
—No way… —Max murmured—. What are you doing here?
—I arrived a couple of days ago, —Julia replied with a soft smile—. I'm just… in the admission process. They told me we'll all see each other later.
She stepped forward and gave each of them a quick hug. It was natural, emotional, and brief. Then she checked the watch on her wrist.
—I have to go. They're waiting for me, —she said, gesturing toward the group ahead—. But we'll talk more later, okay?
—Yeah, of course, —Max said, still processing the encounter.
—See you, —George added.
Julia walked away with the other students, and Matt watched her disappear among the trees.
—She's studying here too? —Matt asked.
—I don't know, —George said quietly—. But she shouldn't be with the scholarship group… That's strange.
A few steps ahead, a young woman with glasses and a folder in hand approached them with a bright smile.
—Hello, —she greeted warmly—. Are you here with the first-years?
George recognized her instantly.
—Professor Clarke. It's good to see you again, —he said respectfully—. This is Matt Singler, and his brother Max. It's his first year.
—Matt Singler! What a pleasure, —she said with excitement, crouching slightly to meet his gaze—. I'm Professor Amanda Clarke, and I'll be in charge of the first-years this summer.
Matt greeted her with a shy smile, and Max gave a polite nod.
—I know who you are too, of course. Mamita Irlanda told me about you when she visited last year. It's an honor to meet you in person.
—The honor is ours, —George replied kindly.
—Matt, you can leave your backpack with me. We'll have a short orientation before the activities begin.
Matt looked at his brothers with some hesitation, but Max gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
—We'll see you in a bit.
Matt nodded, and without another word, followed Professor Clarke toward the area designated for first-years.
Max and George stood quietly for a few seconds before turning and walking back down the path.
It had been a stranger start than they expected… and it was only just beginning.
III
A small metal plaque at the entrance read Sapphire 3, right above the polished wooden door. The cabin was located at the end of a cobblestone path, surrounded by greenery maintained with almost artistic precision. Its architecture, modern and elegant, combined light wood with large windows offering direct views of the lake. From the porch, the shimmering water could be glimpsed through the trees.
George stopped in front of the door and raised his Sapphire card with an automatic gesture. He slid it through the digital reader embedded in the wall. A small electronic sound confirmed access, and the lock clicked open softly.
—Looks like we got one of the best cabins… thanks to mamita, of course, —he said as he stepped inside first.
The interior was spacious and cozy. Three perfectly made beds lined the room, each with a small nightstand beside it. To one side, there was a large mirrored wardrobe, a Turkish rug spread across the wooden floor, and a small lounge area with armchairs facing a flat-screen built into the wall. On a floating shelf, bottles of water stood neatly beside color-sorted snacks and a portable coffee machine.
—They didn't hold back on comfort, —Max commented, dropping his backpack at the foot of one of the beds.
Just then, the bathroom door opened. Out came a tall boy, slim but strong, with golden-toned skin and a neatly groomed light beard. He wore a navy hoodie with golden embroidered details—the official jacket of the school's soccer team. Around his neck hung a Sapphire card, identical to theirs.
—George Levies, —he greeted with a calm voice—. Good to see you here.
—Kumail! I didn't know you'd be in this cabin, —George replied, walking over to greet him naturally.
—They assigned it to me this morning, —Kumail said with a slight smile—. Nice surprise. Though I was a bit surprised to see you with a Sapphire card.
George shrugged.
—They only gave them to us for the summer.
Kumail nodded respectfully, then turned to Max.
—Kumail Sherwani, —he placed a hand over his chest as he introduced himself—. An honor.
—Max Singler, —Max replied, returning the gesture politely.
—I've heard a lot about the Singlers, —Kumail added, his tone neutral but respectful—. Now I understand why you have a Sapphire card. It's a pleasure to share a room with you.
He set down his book on the bed he had already chosen and picked up a dark cap folded next to his backpack.
—The event's about to start, —he said, checking his watch—. See you at the coliseum.
—We'll be there, —George replied.
As soon as Kumail stepped out the door, Max let himself fall onto the bed closest to the window. That's when he noticed something on the pillow: a thick ivory envelope, its edges slightly worn.
He picked it up carefully.
—George… does everyone get one of these?
George walked over, curious.
—No. I don't have anything. Did they leave it here?
—Yeah. It was on my bed.
On the front, written in black ink with delicate penmanship, was a single word:
SINGLER
And on the back flap, a drawn seal: a triangle, and from each of its points, a line curved around, forming a perfect circle.
—Who could've left this?
—No idea. But we need to get to the coliseum. I'll check it later, —Max said, carefully folding the envelope and slipping it into the side pocket of his light hoodie.
George watched him for a few more seconds but said nothing. They grabbed their cards and stepped out of the cabin together, crossing the porch as the murmur of voices in the air began to rise. The welcome was about to begin.
IV
The sky was beginning to glow with shades of orange and gold as hundreds of students took their seats on the light marble stands of the open coliseum. Despite its modern design—with giant screens and surround sound—the semicircular structure evoked the feeling of ancient Greek theaters. At the far end, a large stage adorned with red and gold flags and lanterns marked the beginning of the ceremony.
Max and George were making their way down one of the side aisles amid the noise when a soft, familiar voice called out from behind.
—Max.
It was Julia. Her Russian accent was still as clear as ever, but her tone was warm, cheerful, almost nostalgic. Next to her stood Steven, relaxed and smiling.
—It's wonderful to see you all together again, —Steven said. —It reminds me of when you were kids, running through the halls like you owned the place.
—Now that the three of you are here, —he added proudly, —you can officially say you'll be studying in the same class this year.
Julia looked down with a shy smile, but her expression said everything. Max felt something shift in his chest. It was as if something lost had quietly returned to its place.
As they walked toward their seats, Max looked up, scanning the crowd. He didn't seem anxious, but his gaze moved with purpose—until he saw his sister Christine, seated with Avel at the other end of the coliseum. Christine was laughing at something on her phone; Avel, as always, was gesturing animatedly.
—Look… there they are, —George said, nodding toward them.
Julia saw them too and paused for a moment. Her eyes lit up with a trace of nostalgia.
—It's been years since I've seen them, —she whispered with a soft smile.
Among them, a girl with caramel skin and dark hair glanced back for a brief second. George recognized her instantly.
—Naomi, —he murmured. —She's friends with Anastasia. Cheerleader. Always hanging around the football team.
Max nodded politely, but his mind was already elsewhere.
—Who are you looking for? —George asked, not teasing—just curious.
Max didn't answer. He just smiled, as if carrying a secret.
Elsewhere, in the first row reserved for the youngest students, Matt sat slightly apart from the other first-years. He hadn't made friends yet, but his eyes were wide with wonder, as if he already sensed something magical was about to begin.
Traditional music began to play. Asian drums echoed as a group of students performed a fan dance in red and gold. Soft lights bathed the scene, and the air was filled with the scent of incense and fresh flowers. The costumes represented the cultures of China, Japan, Korea, India, and Thailand—in a lively, colorful, and respectful ceremony.
—This year, Asia is the featured region, —George whispered as they settled in. —There are lots of new students from Asia… they say it's the largest delegation in recent years.
—It's all so beautiful, —Julia whispered, clearly captivated by the details.
The giant screens lit up. The crowd quieted. At the center of the stage, a man of average height appeared, dressed in a dark suit, designer glasses, and a composed posture.
—Good afternoon, —he began with an elegant, confident voice. —For those who don't know me, I'm Professor Oguz Williams. Academic Vice Principal of Singler School… and co-founder of the Meritum System.
A short, respectful round of applause spread across the coliseum. Some professors and senior students nodded in admiration.
—This system doesn't just measure grades. It evaluates values, discipline, leadership, perseverance… and also your ability to adapt, to grow beyond expectations. Here, every day matters. Every choice leaves a mark.
On the screens, the five Meritum cards appeared: Silver, Gold, Ruby, Emerald, and Sapphire. Below them, a clear table showed the benefits: access to exclusive dining halls, restricted libraries, private excursions, advanced classes, and elite events.
—Each of you has a card. It includes your photo, your personal code, your current level… and the access you've earned. Some of you have provisional cards, which will be reviewed at the end of summer. The Meritum System is the heart of our community: it controls access, purchases, achievements, and beyond that… it reflects who you truly are.
Max pulled out his card and looked at it. The sapphire gleamed, radiating value and prestige.
—The Singler Summer Games, —Williams continued, —have been a tradition for decades. They are not mandatory, but for many… they become the most memorable moment of the season. In each grade, there will be a winner. Someone rewarded with Merit Points, and perhaps, a level promotion. These points can open doors: to clubs, teams, projects. Even respect.
At that moment, one of the cameras discreetly focused on an elevated section of the coliseum. There, seated with impeccable poise, was Sebastian Crawford, a seventh-year student. He wore the school's blue and gold-trimmed jacket. He smiled politely at someone nearby. He looked friendly, approachable, perfect. All eyes turned to him.
Max noticed Sebastian. And something else: Oguz Williams' eyes lingered on him for a second. Just a second. But there was something in that glance. Not fear. Not anger. A subtle mix of recognition and doubt… as if his very presence disturbed the balance of everything.
Max didn't look away. He just took a deep breath.
—And as every year, —Williams added calmly, —we will close the Games with the Night Fencing Tournament. It's not the school's official championship… but it is one of the most anticipated competitions of the summer. Whoever wins it… won't be forgotten.
Max turned to George.
—Remember how we used to train at home? —he murmured.
George smiled without taking his eyes off the stage.
—No one could beat us. Except Erine, of course.
—And Matt… he's getting better, —Max added, almost proudly.
The lights dimmed gently. The festival continued with one final martial arts performance, as the sky turned violet and the air filled with the echo of applause. From one side of the coliseum, Steven watched silently. He wasn't looking at the stage—but at his own: Max, George, and Julia, finally sitting together; Christine and Avel on the opposite side, lost in their own world; and Matt, seated in the front row of the youngest students—still quiet, but with bright, curious eyes. He knew them all. And though he didn't say it out loud… he knew this was his family.
V
Countless campfires lit the lake's edge, casting orange flickers across the still water. The clear sky, speckled with stars, wrapped the entire camp in a silent spell. The air was scented with burning wood, hot chocolate, and damp breeze. In the distance, laughter, acoustic guitar tunes, and songs in different languages drifted through the night, as small groups of students shared stories or simply stared at the fire.
The camp's bonfire zone was one of the largest. A natural clearing bordered the lake, spread with blankets, rustic benches, and small platforms where students sat freely. The flames gave off warmth, but also created a cozy atmosphere. Marshmallows turned on sticks, some students sang, and others gazed at the black waters of the lake, beyond which, on the horizon, stood the majestic island of Singler School. The castle, though far, was visible—tall, dark, and almost mythical under the moon.
Among the trees, teachers and staff wandered with lanterns. They didn't interrupt conversations, but their presence kept the peace. The open fire night was a sacred first-day tradition.
Max, Julia, and George walked along one of the torch-lit paths. They weren't looking for anything in particular, just a quiet spot. Max was the first to notice a small slope of grass leading to a hidden corner of the lake, veiled by a natural arch of intertwined branches.
—This looks good, —he said, glancing around. They were far enough from the others to be alone, yet close enough to feel safe.
The three sat on the damp grass under a starry sky that seemed even brighter here. For a moment, no one spoke.
Julia hugged her knees, her eyes fixed on the castle's reflection in the distance.
—My mother cried when I was accepted, —she said suddenly, her voice soft—. She said my father would've cried too. He passed away a few years ago… Now I have a stepfather. He's a good man, but… it's not the same.
Max and George looked at her respectfully. They didn't speak—and that was enough.
—So how did you get into the school? —George asked gently.
Julia smiled sincerely.
—Through a scholarship. I always wanted to come… and I earned it with my grades.
Max lay back on the grass, hands behind his head.
—Mamita owns the school, —he said casually—. If you talk to her, she might take you off the scholarship list.
Julia looked at him and chuckled softly, with her usual quiet elegance.
—Thanks… but that won't be necessary. My mom and my aunt Irina were scholarship students too when they were here. I'm not ashamed. If anything, it makes me feel closer to them.
George shifted a little on the grass, half-smiling.
—I never understood why we stopped talking, —he said, not looking directly at her—. One day we were all together… and the next, you were gone.
Julia lowered her gaze, playing with a blade of grass between her fingers.
—I never understood it either, —she said honestly—. I just know that after that trip to Russia, everything changed. My mom tried to stay in touch, but things… cooled off. Not by our choice.
—And Anastasia? —Max asked softly.
—She's my cousin, yes. But I haven't spoken to her in a long time, —said Julia with a hint of nostalgia—. We're not as close as we used to be.
Silence returned for a few seconds, until Max sat up and pulled 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 familiar symbol: a triangle, with three curved lines forming a perfect circle.
Julia leaned closer. George leaned in too.
Max opened it carefully. Inside was a sheet folded in three. At the top, written in old-fashioned script, they read:
"There was a time when magic was no myth.
It hid in places men forgot.
This lake, so silent… was its guardian."
Below, in smaller but just as elegant lettering:
"At the foot of the apple tree where shadows never grow,
among the roots of what blooms out of season,
there begins the path.
The fruit is not for eating.
It is for remembering."
George frowned, murmuring the words.
—An apple tree… with no shadow?
—"The fruit is not for eating… it is for remembering," —Julia repeated in a whisper—. It sounds like… a riddle.
Max looked again at the envelope's seal.
—Do you think it's real?
—What is it you're looking for, Max? —Julia asked, without a trace of irony.
He looked at her. The light of the lake softly lit his face.
—Something that's worth it, —he replied simply.
Julia smiled. She didn't say anything more.
Behind them, the campfires still flickered. Laughter and songs floated from afar, but in that quiet corner of the lake, everything felt different. More intimate. More ancient.
The three of them stared at the water in silence, as if waiting to see something rise from the depths.
And though none of them could say it for certain…
that night, a quest had begun.