PART X - CALLIE’S RANGER AUDITION

“So, what are you going to do to them, Tazrok?” Callie asked as everyone returned inside. “Something vicious?”

“Nah,” the Ogre said. “Only hurt each other.”

“And broke a bunch of stuff,” Callie pointed out, climbing back up on her bunk. “We had to run for it when the brawl started, or we were going to get hit by something.”

“Have surprise in store,” Tazrok said, grinning.

“That reminds me, Callie,” Lena said. “We never got to hear about your Ranger group. How did your Trainer take having a Gnome as a Ranger?”

Callie groaned out loud and fell forward onto the bed. “My Trainer hates me! Right off we got into a big argument about how Gnomes can’t be Rangers, and I accused him of being racist and then he called me … a really bad name …”

“He didn’t call you … pip … did he?” Pixyl gasped, whispering the word.

“Yea, that one. Jesca, one of the other Rangers, told me after what it meant. I’m not super mad at him, mostly because I didn’t know what it meant at the time and we were both getting pretty heated. I called him Foxy McFoxface in response, so I think we’re even for now.”

“Foxy … Foxface?” Lena said.

“Yea, he’s a Foxkin and it was the only thing I could come up with at that moment. And then, to prove I could use my bow, he made me shoot so many arrows my robe fell off. In the middle of the courtyard! With everybody watching!”

“What?” Lena said, with both a laugh and with shock.

“Oh yea. Gave everyone a show; both my shooting and my … burlesque I guess.”

“You must start over from the beginning, Little One,” Xin said. “How did shooting arrows make your clothes fall off?”

And so Callie recounted everything again from the beginning. The incident with Bear Guy. Meeting her fellow Ranger trainees, including the Fire Salamander from the southern deserts who was stuck so far from home after receiving the Conscription Curse. The arrival of Reynard and the ensuing argument and name calling. Callie admitted she had let it get out of hand, but still felt she was being judged by her race, not her ability, and she just couldn’t abide by that.

“So then, just to prove I have that Advanced Archery skill, he wants me to shoot my bow into a tree with a tent behind it! There could have been people in that tent! Can you believe that? He was so pissed off at me that he didn’t even give me a safe test! Anyway, at that point we found a hay bale to shoot into and he started having me do cadence drills.” Callie quickly jumped down from the bed and demonstrated, using the red bow, what those were, without drawing the string.

“How long did that go on?” Lena asked.

“I dunno. Eighty times I guess? And then he wanted me to do more, this time while moving. I’m already exhausted, because drawing a bow that many times that quickly will wear you out. By the time we stopped, I was drenched in sweat and all that movement of my arms and body had caused my robe to untie and fall open. Whatever, I showed Reynard up, and that’s what’s important, right?”

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“That was just cruel,” Lena said, a spark of anger in her eyes.

Callie waved Lena off. “It’s fine. In the end he apologized, and I even think it was sincere. I made him promise never to call me that word again, and pretty much made sure he knew I knew he was way out of line. I think we might be okay come training day.”

“You w-w-wern’t embarrassed?” Pixyl asked.

“By being seen naked?”

The Pixie nodded.

Callie shrugged. “I didn’t even notice at the time. It wasn’t until later I put together what happened, and by then it was too late to be. I guess we’ll see how many people say something about it.”

“Anyways,” Lena said, trying to change the awkward subject, “I assume you did great in your little archery demonstration.”

“I hit one-hundred twenty-seven out of one-hundred twenty-eight times, with over one-hundred in the red. At least that’s what I overheard Reynard tell Master Trainer Thorn. I assume that’s right. I honestly lost count somewhere around fifty.”

“That’s incredibly good, Callie,” Vanis said. “Especially since you have no class skills. I’ve shot a bow a few times in my life, and I was honestly happy to just hit the target, let alone get it in the center. And at the pace you were shooting since you didn’t have to use an actual arrow…?”

“But it’s that one that I completely missed that really irritates me,” Callie interrupted, verbally kicking herself. “I got distracted for a moment when my hair flopped in my eyes and my shot went high. Rookie mistake.”

“You’re beating yourself up for that? For one shot?” Lena asked.

“I also don’t think I have enough strength in this body. I’m going to have to work on it a bit. I should not have been as completely exhausted as I was.”

“Well no kidding!” Lena sputtered. “That’s why Gnomes aren’t Rangers. They aren’t built for it. They don’t have the strength. That’s why they are Wizards or Healers.”

Those words stung Callie. “Just like Ogres can’t possibly be a Druid? Like Pixies can’t possibly be a Bladeweaver? A person can be anything they want, Lena. And in this world, if it’s not your class, or you’re a race not built for it, that just means you have to work harder and do the best you can. Maybe I end up being the absolute worst Ranger ever, but don’t tell me I can’t do it because of my race. I grew up my entire life with people telling me what I could and couldn’t do because of my race, and I refused to believe it. And I refuse to believe it in your world too.”

The room was silent as Callie’s words hung in the air.

“I’m sorry,” Callie said after a moment. “That came out harsher than I meant it to be.”

“No …” Lena began.

Callie held up her hand. “Lena, in my world, we’re all Human, so race is defined by the color of our skin and we are judged for it, or people are judged for what gender they are, or how poor they are, or who they love or any one of a dozen other reasons. The society of my world is structured so that those groups have a near-impossible battle to try to do half as well as those who have the power to make the rules and make people afraid. Your world is so beautiful to me, in a way. All these different races of people, getting along, treating each other like … people … and not as a target for hatred based on differences. I haven’t even been here a day and it’s just … like I said … beautiful.”

“It’s not all great, Callie,” Vanis said. “We do have racism and hatred here, too.”

“I know,” Callie said with a smile. “I’m sure in time I’ll find that out. But think about it. Look around. Here we are, right now, under this roof, five different races; two Elves, an Ogre, a Lizardkin, a Pixie and a Gnome. All completely different from each other, just being … people. My brain just finds this … beautiful”.

Everyone looked around the room at each other, seeing a certain truth in Callie’s words.

“And if the fates say I’m to be a Ranger,” Callie said, “then I’m going to be the best damn Ranger I can be. And Tazrok will be the best damn Druid he can be. And Pixyl the best damn Bladeweaver she can be. And Xin the best Shaman and Vanis the best Warlock and you the best goddamn Bladedancer you can be. And that is …”

“... beautiful,” Lena finished.

“Damn right,” Callie said

“Damn right,” Tazrok added gruffly.

“Damn right,” Pixyl said, not a stutter in her voice.

“Damn right,” the remaining chimed in unison.