Bran sauntered off into the crowd, no doubt searching for lackeys to cheer him on.
Otter watched him disappear into the crowd, then turned to Erin with wide eyes. "Are you crazy? What were you thinking?"
Erin grinned, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "I was thinking it's about time someone put that bully in his place. Come on, let's finish these deliveries."
They walked side by side through the bustling market, dodging merchants hawking their wares and shoppers haggling over prices. The air was thick with the mingled scents of fresh bread, ripe fruit, and sizzling meat.
"But a race?" Otter protested, shifting the heavy crate in his arms. "Bran's a Fighter. Not only is he stronger than me, he’s probably faster, too."
Erin laughed, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You’ve been running these streets your whole life. You know every shortcut, every alley, every hidden path. You’ve got this."
Otter couldn’t help but smile at her confidence, but a knot of anxiety still twisted in his stomach. This wasn’t just about winning a race. Bran wouldn’t forget it if he lost—and he definitely wouldn’t take it well.
Otter’s gaze drifted toward the winding alleys and waterways beyond the square. The canals of Brighthaven twisted through the city like veins, connecting districts with narrow paths and hidden passages.
Erin was right. He knew those routes better than anyone. Maybe he could win this.
"And what was that about a date?" Otter asked, raising an eyebrow.
Erin shivered. “Yeah, well… make sure you win, please.”
The two parted ways, each having their own deliveries to make. Otter’s step was a little bit lighter. Before he reached the tannery, a new thought struck him. This race might be just the thing he needed to get that elusive class. A win might not only convince Bran and all the spectators that he was more than a level 0 nobody, but it might also convince the System.
Without any more distractions, Otter made his delivery.
***
A small crowd had gathered as Otter and Bran stood at the newly designated starting line near the canal’s edge. Word of the challenge spread quickly—everyone loved a bit of spectacle in the otherwise predictable rhythm of Brighthaven life. No doubt Bran had spent the last hour spreading the word himself, but it also appeared that Erin had as well. He saw friendly faces there to cheer him on, which he hadn’t expected.
“Here’s the rules,” Erin announced, in a voice loud enough for all to hear. “First one to the clock tower and back wins. No weapons, no magic, no vehicles. Just skill. You must touch the tower. I’ve got someone over there watching already, so no cheating.”
Otter nodded, adjusting his sleeves. “Fine by me.”
Bran grinned, the overconfidence dripping from his every word. “Better keep your head down, Otter. Wouldn’t want to get lost.”
Otter ignored him. He didn’t need strength or speed to win this. He just needed to keep his head and trust his instincts.
Both boys stepped up to an imaginary line.
Erin raised her hand. “Ready?”
Bran and Otter nodded.
“Go!”
The two racers launched off the line, sprinting down the cobbled street toward the first turn.
Bran, with his fighter class bonuses, immediately pulled ahead. His heavy boots pounded the ground, and he barreled through the market like a charging bull.
Otter didn’t panic. He knew Bran would take the most obvious route. But the city was a maze of streets—it was a puzzle. And Otter knew how to solve it. His Navigation skill kicked in. Even only at level 4, the quickest route to the clock tower lit up in his brain, almost as if he could see a map of the city in front of him with the proper path illuminated in a blue line.
Main Street was the artery of Brighthaven. It wound its way from the Market Square up through Stonebridge Ward, skirted the Willowveil, before passing the Clocktower at the center of Oldkeep. It was a wide thoroughfare that saw plenty of traffic, whether cart, carriage, or bicycle. It would surely be cluttered with vendors and delivery carts this time of day, presenting plenty of obstacles to navigate. It was also a circuitous route, winding its way between the canals and cramped buildings.
Otter veered into a narrow alley, ducking under a low archway and darting between buildings. He splashed through puddles as he zigzagged through the twisting alleys. He leapt over a pile of crates and scaled a low wall, landing on a narrow walkway that ran along a canal’s edge. The air smelled of saltwater and algae as Otter ran, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
Bran won’t know this route, Otter thought. He’ll stick to Main Street. I’ll be two blocks ahead when this reconnects.
But as he rounded a corner, he spotted a group of children playing with wooden hoops in the alley ahead.
“Move! Move!” Otter shouted, waving his arms.
The children scattered, laughing as they ran, but one hoop rolled directly into Otter’s path. He jumped, barely clearing it. His foot slipped on a wet stone, and he stumbled forward, catching himself against the wall.
At that moment, a vile stream of chunky liquid rained down on the walkway ahead of him. Glancing up, he saw someone bent out of a window, emptying their stomach on the stones below.
“Close one,” he muttered, pushing himself back into a run.
Just then, his wrisplay buzzed.
He glanced at it and saw a message scroll across the screen,
Luck’s Whisper: Active
His spirit soared. He had no idea what that meant, but it was something new. He’d have to look into it later. Right now, he had a race to win.
The canals of Brighthaven were a marvel of engineering, a complex network of waterways that served as the city's lifeblood. They ranged from wide, deep channels that could accommodate large merchant vessels to narrow, shallow passages barely wide enough for a small gondola. The main canals, like the Grand Canal and the Merchant's Way, were broad thoroughfares lined with bustling wharves and warehouses. Smaller tributaries branched off, winding through residential areas and marketplaces.
Barges and boats of all sizes plied these fluid streets, transporting goods far more efficiently than horse-drawn carts could manage on the crowded roads. The canals allowed merchants to move heavy loads of timber, stone, and foodstuffs directly to their destinations, bypassing the congested streets above.
But for those on foot, like Otter, the canals presented both opportunity and obstacle.
The easiest method to cross the canals was using the various bridges around town, especially when crossing the Grand Canal, which was the widest. But that often meant taking a lengthy detour to get from point A to point B. Otter knew a faster way.
He leapt off the walkway and dropped into the canal below. The water wasn’t the cleanest, but Otter wanted to win.
As soon as he broke the surface, he felt his swimming skill kick in and he moved through the water with smooth, efficient strokes.
Meanwhile, Bran charged through the main street, knocking over barrels and shoving past startled merchants. His sheer size and strength cleared the way with ease.
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As the road veered closer to the canal’s edge, he spotted Otter swimming across. He ground his teeth. Bran didn't have a Swimming skill. With Otter taking shortcuts like that, he’d would have to rely on his strength, speed, and endurance to overtake the little cheat. The Clock Tower was at least two miles further on, as the crow flew. Hopefully, he could find a shortcut.
Otter reached the far side of the canal and climbed up the stone wall. Once he reached the walkway, he broke into a run again. Glancing over his shoulder, he spied Bran on the other side, and gave him a little wave, then darted toward the next shortcut.
The alley narrowed, the high walls of Brighthaven’s buildings pressing in on both sides. Otter knew this path well. It was one of his favorites, a hidden route that cut straight to the clock tower square.
But as he rounded another corner, he skidded to a halt.
“Seriously?” he muttered.
A large, rusted iron gate stretched across the alleyway. Usually, the gate was open, and Otter could use this way freely. But now it was padlocked and chained tight. There was no climbing it—the metal bars were slick from the misty air.
Otter glanced around, heart pounding. Doubling back might cost him the lead. He gritted his teeth, feeling frustration bubble up inside him. He conjured up the map in his head, searching for a different path.
He found one.
The canals were narrower here. Not narrow enough to jump across, at least not without a serious Jumping skill or a little help. Fortunately, Otter knew just where to find that help.
Two blocks back the way he’d come, he ducked into a small alcove where the gondoliers kept the poles they used to propel their boats. He snagged one and used it to vault across the canal, landing heavily on the other side.
Bran has finally made it across the Grand Canal. He knew Otter would be well ahead of him by this point and needed to close the gap.
He kept his head on a swivel, looking for an advantage. At the end of the alley, he spotted what looked like a hastily constructed wooden bridge. It looked like a group of children had assembled it from assorted scraps to give them quick access to the other side. Without hesitation, Bran sprinted onto the bridge. It would save time.
The wood groaned under his weight.
With a loud crack, the bridge gave way.
Bran plunged into the canal with a splash, water spraying high into the air.
“Damn it!” Bran sputtered, flailing as he dragged himself to the surface.
Otter took off down the alley again, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
As he sprinted toward the clock tower, he couldn’t help but laugh softly to himself. He could feel how far ahead he was of Bran.
Otter was breathing hard when he touched the base of the tower. He wasn’t used to running so hard for so long, but he was only halfway through this race. He still had to make it back to where they started.
Being a Fighter, Bran probably had a higher CON stat which meant he could keep going longer than Otter.
The route back wouldn’t be any shorter and Otter knew he would be slower from here on. Plus, he needed to avoid that locked gate. He needed to find an edge.
Otter’s eyes darted around the square, searching for anything he could use to his advantage.
His gaze landed on the clock tower itself—a massive, ancient structure with winding stairs that led to a viewing platform near the top. From there, a series of rooftops stretched toward the canals. The buildings were tightly packed in this part of Brighthaven, their eaves nearly touching.
Otter grinned. “That’ll do.”
As Bran thundered into the tower square, Otter was already halfway up the spiral staircase. Even with all his shortcuts, he didn't have the lead he imagined. Each step burned, but he kept moving, taking the steps two at a time despite his legs feeling like jelly.
Behind him, Bran skidded to a halt at the base of the tower.
“What the—?” Bran craned his neck to see Otter disappearing through a doorway above. His face twisted with rage. “Get back here, you rat!”
Otter ignored him, bursting out onto the viewing platform. The wind whipped through his hair as he stepped to the edge, looking down at the rooftops below. The gap between the clock tower and the nearest building was narrow—but dangerous.
He didn’t have time to hesitate.
Otter took a running start and leapt.
For a moment, he was weightless, the air rushing past him. Then his feet hit the tiled roof on the other side, slipping on the slick surface before he regained his balance.
“Made it,” he panted, scrambling across the rooftop.
Bran’s furious shouts echoed from below. Otter risked a glance back to see the fighter stomping through the square, looking for another way around.
“Good luck with that,” Otter murmured, picking up speed.
Otter weaved across the rooftops, leaping from one building to the next. Each jump pushed his luck further, the narrow walkways and uneven tiles threatening to trip him up at every turn.
His wrisplay flashed.
New skill acquired:
Jumping Novice- Lvl 1
Otter skipped a step, but he didn’t falter.
Luck was on his side.
At one point, he came to a rooftop where a section of the tiles had caved in, leaving a gaping hole in his path. Otter skidded to a stop, peering down at the drop. “Really?” he muttered. “Now?”
Even with a Jumping skill, there was no way he was making it across that. He glanced to his right and spotted a wooden beam stretching between two buildings. It looked barely sturdy enough to hold his weight, swaying slightly in the breeze.
Again, his wrisplay buzzed.
Luck’s Whisper: Active
That was the second time he’d seen that. Maybe the System was trying to tell him something.
Otter shrugged. “Why not?”
He climbed onto the beam, arms outstretched for balance, and edged his way across. The wood groaned underfoot, but it held. Just barely.
Halfway across, a gust of wind caught him, and the beam creaked ominously.
Otter gritted his teeth. “Come on, come on…”
The beam cracked just as he stepped off it, collapsing behind him.
“Whew,” Otter whispered, his heart pounding. “That… could’ve gone worse.”
Without wasting another second, he bolted for the final rooftop. Below him, he spotted Bran charging down Main Street, shoving aside crates and barrels as he tried to catch up, but he was way behind.
“Too slow, Bran,” Otter said, a grin spreading across his face.
Otter reached the edge of the last rooftop and slid down a slanted overhang, landing in a crouch on the cobbled street. The finish line was just ahead—the square where they’d started the race.
The crowd had gathered again, whispering and pointing as Otter sprinted toward them. Some gasped when they saw him emerge from the rooftops, mud-splattered and breathless.
“Go!” someone shouted.
Otter pushed himself harder, his legs screaming in protest.
The finish line drew closer. He could hear Bran’s shouts echoing through the alleyways behind him, but the fighter was too far back.
Otter crossed the square, chest heaving as he skidded to a stop.
The crowd erupted into cheers and scattered applause.
He’d won.
Moments later, Bran came stumbling into the square, dripping with canal water and covered in grime. His face twisted with fury as he spotted Otter standing there, grinning. “You cheated!” Bran spat, stomping forward.
Otter shook his head, still catching his breath. “Nope. Just took a different route.”
Bran’s fists clenched. “You got lucky.”
Otter smiled wider, stepping toward him. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just better than you.”
Bran’s face reddened, but he didn’t argue. There were too many people around to lash out. He knew he’d lost.
The crowd murmured in agreement, a few chuckles rippling through the gathered onlookers.
Bran scowled. “This isn’t over, Otter.”
Erin stepped up. “Yes, it is. You knew the deal.” She gestured around at everyone watching. “And now they do, too. If you have any brains at all, Bran, you’ll focus on training. Maybe getting a job.”
Bran muttered something under his breath and stomped off.
As the crowd dispersed, Otter leaned against a post near the square, catching his breath.
Erin rushed to his side. “Did it work? Do you have a Class option now?”
So that was Erin’s plan all along.
He swiped over to his profile, Erin watching over his shoulder.
Name: Dwayne Shi’longh Bennett (Otter)
Level: 0 XP: 0
Class: None Life Force: 4
Stats
STR 9
DEX 9
CON 9
INT 10
WIS 9
CHA 9
Luck 18
Skills
Jumping Novice- Lvl 1
Knowledge (Entomology) Novice- Lvl 3
Knowledge (Mathematics) Novice- Lvl 2
Navigation (Urban) Novice- Lvl 4
Observation Novice- Lvl 4
Persuasion Novice- Lvl 3
Reading Novice- Lvl 4
Swimming Apprentice- Lvl 5
Writing Novice- Lvl 4
Current Objective: Find Your Calling
“Maybe it takes a little time to kick in?” Erin suggested.
“Yeah, maybe,” Otter said, disappointment washing over him.
His victory had felt good—but not as good as he thought it would. Bran wouldn’t let this defeat go unanswered, no matter what Erin said. It was only a matter of time before he’d corner him in an alley somewhere and beat his frustrations out. Considering how public his loss was, it could be a severe beating.
No, winning the race didn’t change anything. He was still a classless Level 0 nobody, and time was running out.
Otter glanced down at his wrisplay. The screen flickered again, static crackling at the edges.
Otter frowned, tapping the display. He swiped through all the screens, looking for any sign of those earlier notifications? He found nothing.
“Hey Erin,” he said, still looking at his screen. “You ever hear of something called Luck’s Whisper?”