“Hey, your name was removed on all the realm exploration in the upcoming weeks,” Mitch said as he checked his ORA App. “Do you know what happened?”
Ian recalled the letter from the Medical Association and hastily checked his phone. He discovered an unread email from the ORA, notifying him of the suspension pending an investigation. They were suspending his credentials pending an investigation. Without wasting a moment, Ian called the local ORA’s office, demanding a meeting to address the situation. Mitch dropped him off in front of a mid-rise office building in Worchest.
Upon his arrival, the receptionist told him to meet with the ORA branch manager, Atticus North. Ian took the elevator to the administration office on the seventh floor. In the office, Mr. North, dressed in a business suit, sat behind the desk. Ian greeted the man and sat down on the other side of the table while looking around the room. He had never been in the ORA administration office, but he expected something more exciting than the standard office furniture. If anything, North’s imposing figure looked out of place within the small office. The middle aged man was likely a tank for a high ranking team.
“Mr. Zimmer, I heard a lot about you from the desk manager,” said Mr. North. “Please have a seat.”
Ian took a seat on one of the guest chairs and placed his large backpack on the other. “Mr. North…” Ian addressed him.
“You can simply call me North. I hear you have an issue with your credentials being placed on hold. I have a flight to Matupa soon, so you have to be quick.”
Ian raised his eyebrow into a curious arch. Matupa was the central hub of the Academy and one of the few flying cities on Earth. Anyone who was a ranked individual wished they could enter Matupa. “North, I hope you are aware that the medical association request falls outside of their jurisdiction. Isn’t the ORA going too far by removing my access during the investigation?”
“Hm…” North pulled out his tablet, which displayed Ian’s credentials. “You dropped out of high school at the age of fifteen, got your GED at sixteen, earned a Ph.d. in otherworld realm biology at the age twenty-one from Abbin College, and then dropped out of medical school after a year. It’s quite an interesting path you’re taking.”
Abbin College was a newly developed online college with little connections. Most people considered it a scam.
“I don’t do well in a traditional learning environment,” Ian said.
“I’m not questioning your degree,” North closed out the file. “A Ph.d. is a Ph.d. However, are you aware that the Medical Association has reached out to us regarding a new piece of legislation to section 11200?”
“They did?” Ian asked. “Is it to restrict non-ranked individuals from practicing medicine inside the otherworld realm?”
“It is,” North confirmed. “We are short of healers and it’s difficult to hire doctors to work for us inside of the otherworld realm. So having a licensed professional ensures proper care for otherworld exploration.”
“Really?” Ian asked with skepticism. He couldn’t figure out the reasoning behind the Medical Association’s actions. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that it was targeted directly toward him. He was a small fry in the grand scheme of things. “Did something happen that triggered the legislation?”
“An unranked man in Simbel used a similar method as you to gain more access to the otherworld realm. However, he was poisoning the rankers out of spite and jealousy. The Medical Association is using this as an example of oversight from the ORA. In exchange for changing the legislation, the Medical Association will provide incentives for doctors to enter the otherworld realm.”
The medical association had been losing many high end clients to healers. Patients could enter the otherworld realm with a high ranking healer who could reattach limbs and cure cancer. The medical association barely made a profit treating the low-income population. They wanted more control over the otherworld realm, and selected people like Ian to set an example.
“I understand that you are capable, but we will need to remove ‘doctor’ from your profile to avoid confusion,” said North. “We will add your Ph.d its in its place. You can still perform emergency medical procedures, but it can’t be advertised. I hope you are agreeable with this arrangement. It is the only way I can restore your credentials. We just need you to sign some paperwork.”
The resolution was reasonable, but it looked like everything had already been decided before Ian’s arrival. Despite his reservations, Ian agreed to the terms. Following the meeting, the ORA removed the title of doctor from Ian's profile and reinstated his credentials.
The whispering in the ORA lobby soured Ian’s mood. The word “scammer” floated around his name. It wasn’t his intention to confuse people, but it was also his fault for never correcting people on his medical credentials. He had one year of training, but it wasn’t close to giving him qualification as a physician. Ian couldn’t deny the claim that he had used the confusion for his own benefit.
“He should have been fined by the ORA,” someone whispered. “If it wasn’t for his brother, his ranker’s license would have been suspended. He even got to see the manager without an appointment.”
“Tsk, why do they even issue licenses to non-rankers? A “ranker’s” license is called that for a reason. There should be stricter regulations on non-rankers. Most of them end up dying inside and then we have to handle a crap load of paperwork.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Ian walked out of the lobby and into the main street of the ORA building, he didn’t need to hear the rest of their conversation. He had heard something similar along the line many times already.
A ringtone jingle of “Staying Alive” played over Ian’s phone. It was Mitch. “Your profile is back on again. Do you want me to sign you up for any upcoming run?”
“My salary just got cut in half,” Ian replied.
“Oh man… Are you going to be okay?”
“I’m going home first.” Ian hung up.
Instead of going home, Ian aimlessly walked around downtown Worchest. As he scrolled down the sidewalk, he thought about his future. Without the usual income, it would be harder to continue his research. He massaged the throbbing veins on both sides of his temples, almost tripping over a poodle. The owner yelled at him, but Ian continued stumbling down the street.
The other pedestrians avoided the seemingly drunk man. Ian took a seat on a bench overlooking the river. A cloudy haze blurred his sight as he readjusted his vision by focusing on a pedestrian bridge. He shook his head, wondering if he had eaten something unusual in the otherworld. He sneezed, snapping him out of his daze for a moment. As he regained awareness, the throbbing pain from his arms and shoulders became more pronounced. He took a painkiller and rested his head back.
Maybe his parents were right about the otherworld. It wasn’t a place for him. He was doing mundane research, but to what end? It wasn’t like he was making any real contribution to the scientific community and he didn’t even have one citation. The only thing he got out of it was the muscle aches and the occasional cut wounds. Was it time for him to get a real job?
His head suddenly slumped back and he felt like he was losing control of his body. A series of clouded flashes and incoherent noises flooded his head. The ringing in the ears vibrated between low and high pitch, with no rhythm or rhyme like a tone-deaf child crying in an echoed room. Sharp pain jabbed through different parts of his brain like icepicks and the constant pounding in his head made him want to stab a knife through his head. He lifted his arm and reached out around the bench, hoping to find something sharp. It was tempting to stick something into his head to make the pain go away.
There were branches nearby. He restrained himself with his left arm, digging his nails into his right arm until it bruised.
The next moment, he saw a glimpse of a strange glyph. It was a symbol he did not know, but somehow understood. He stared at it for a long time, not knowing what it was, but drawn to it like a moth to a flame.
When he opened his eyes, he saw the worried look of his parents by his bedside and Carla sitting in the corner. His right arm was wrapped up in a brace.
“Ian! You’re finally awake!” Marnie hugged her boy tightly, but carefully avoided his right arm.
Hogan tapped Ian on the shoulder with a sigh of belief. “You gave us a bit of fright. The hospital called us when they said someone saw you jump off the bridge.”
Ian turned to him with a confused look. He didn’t remember jumping off the bridge. That said, there were a lot of things he didn’t remember. Hogan walked out of the room to get the nurse, passing by two police officers. In the meanwhile, Carla messaged the family group chat to let everyone know that Ian was finally awake.
The doctor and nurse arrived to check up on Ian, asking the family members to leave.
“Your body is recovering, but how are you feeling?” The doctor asked.
Ian moved his shoulders around and lifted his left arm. He felt a little sore, but not too painful. “I’m good, the meds are working.”
“How are you feeling mentally? I hear that you work a lot within the otherworld realm. If it’s exhausting, it’s all right to take a break.”
“Doc, if you want to ask about whether I am suicidal, I can I assure you that I’m not.” He had setbacks, but it wasn’t something that he couldn’t overcome. Sure, his degree came from an unaccredited college and his research was going nowhere, but it wasn’t like he was at the end of the rope. He needed a new direction in life, not an escape. “My memory is hazy, so can you tell me what happened?”
“I wasn’t there myself. But when the police and rescuer recovered you from the river, they had to sedate you. They can tell you more, but let me know if you need more time to recover first.”
Ian thanked the doctor for his concern, but he wanted to know what happened near the river. With Ian's permission, the two policemen entered the room and began questioning Ian. It was immediately clear to them that Ian had little recollection of the event that took place the day before.
“By the time we arrived on site, you had already pulled yourself onto shore,” the officer said. “However, you were screaming and flailing around on the ground. We weren’t sure if you were injured, so we rushed closer to check up on you. As we approached, you took out your belt and then tied both of your wrists to a tree. You continued screaming as though you were in pain. At one point, it looked like you were about to pound your head onto the tree, so we had to restrain you and the EMT sedated you as soon as they arrived.”
“You’re lucky the only thing you fractured is your wrist,” the other officer said. “We found a lot of different drugs on you. Did you take anything yesterday?”
The police officers believed Ian was on drugs, and had seized the medicine box for testing. As for Ian, he didn’t believe the officers had rights to seize the drugs, but he didn’t care for them since they were all generic brand drugs. He did care about the content of the painkiller bottle as it was the last thing he took.
“Where did you get the drugs from?” the officer asked. “One of the bottles was unlabelled and had three different pills.”
“That’s my personal bottle,” said Ian. “I don’t have a lot of space, so that bottle contains a mixture of ibuprofen, antihistamine, and naproxen. The only pill I took yesterday was ibuprofen.”
“We are going to need a list of all the drugs and where you got it from.”
Ian shrugged, but agreed. It was going to be a long list.
“When do you get the lab results?” asked Ian.
“Typically in 2-3 weeks,” said the officer. “But you were carrying a lot of different types of drugs, so maybe a month or so. Are they for your otherworld realm exploration? We heard you have an ORA ranking license.”
Ian nodded. He also mentioned the possibility of poisoning from the plants he ate in the otherworld realm.
After a series of questions, the officers wrapped up the report. On their way out, they gave Ian their contact information in case he remembered anything about the incident. Ian couldn’t remember the event, but there was something odd in his mind. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see the strange glyph. The best way to describe the glyph was mythical. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t replicate what it looked like on paper. The glyph was either part of his psychosis or something relating to the otherworld realm. Whatever it was, Ian kept it to himself.