“Stat lock; Defense,” the words echoed in my mind. Having an unassigned class would make things difficult for me, doubly so because I was assigned no subclass. Having no class of any kind would mean being restricted to only the most basic of skills, those that anyone could obtain with enough effort and work ethic. Still, it wasn't impossible. Roman Castle, known as ‘the iron wall’, was assigned no classes during his assignment, making a name for himself with his incredible defenses. By using the ‘parry’ skill he was able to minimize damage taken while looking for an opening, often ending fights with permanent scars as a result of taking too many heavy hits. Still, he was able to make this work because of his incredible regeneration, stemming from his defenses, and his amazing technical ability with the war axe he chose to wield. Unluckily enough, Roman Castle had been the ONLY person not assigned a class to earn a spot in the top one hundred and he relied almost solely on his defense abilities. A luxury that I would never be awarded as a stat lock would permanently keep my defensive ability stagnant. A stat lock was rare, incredibly rare, less than one percent of people who have EVER awakened have had the pleasure of dealing with one and now I could count myself as one of them.
I could feel reality start to slow, I could see the principal's lips move as she began to speak. I looked into the crowd and saw my mother beginning to weep openly in the middle of the adult onlookers. The other adults sat with their mouths open and eyes wide, a sentiment my peers echoed, including Charley, and for all the wrong reasons. I could see the tears roll down my mother's face even from my spot on the platform. As I saw the scout's pens start to move from left to right I realized that they had already started crossing my name out of their potential rosters. My breath started to quicken, I noticed sweat dripping down my forehead. This had to be some kind of joke. Something like this was one in a trillion, no one in ten trillion. All the anxiety and nervousness I had put aside rushed forward cracking the wall of excitement I had built. My body was getting heavier, my legs failing underneath the pressure. “Mr. Parmer,” the principal began, snapping me back out of my trance, “please begin to make your way down to your assigned seat.”
“Y….Yes ma’am,” I managed to choke out after what had to be ten seconds of silence. Making my way down to my chair, my legs seemed lighter, my body was able to move more fluidly. Reaching my seat, my heart seemed to calm down, my breaths came much easier. I looked across the seating area at Charley, who locked eyes with me. He seemed, disappointed? No, that's not the word, he seemed saddened. All the excitement that had been present in his eyes had been replaced by worry. We sat, looking at each other, unable to tear our eyes apart. The person to my right, Jenny Penn, had already made her way up and onto the magical platform. It was me who finally broke the contact, I took a look into the crowd where my parents had previously been seated, they were gone, their spots empty. Charley had also turned his head at this point, unable, or unwilling, to turn his head back around.
‘This isn’t the time to panic,’ I told myself. ‘If there's one thing you're good at, it 's planning.’ My parents most likely went home after my assignment to prepare something, maybe to prepare something. It’ll be tough to become a professional battler but it's certainly not impossible. Combat colleges always hold open tryouts in addition to their scouting admissions so it's possible for me to get into one. Especially with the help of my parents and doubly so if my brother decides to help. “Status window: open,” I muttered to myself. A blue transparent window popped into existence in front of me. Two skills appeared in front of me: ‘Parry’ a growth-type skill, like most others, that would grow stronger the more it gets used. Starting at rank F the skill essentially allows me to nullify damage and send an opponent staggering when parrying an attack, it also allows me to disperse magic if I target the correct spot. ‘Counter’ is another growth type skill, also starting at rank F, that allows for massive damage to be dealt after performing a counter. I could feel my head start to hurt as I tried to come up with a style of fighting that could properly use these two skills. My main weapon is the sword since I took an offered elective on the basics of sword-wielding. I have also trained in boxing and a little in Muay Thai because of my parents' insistence. With such a locked defense stat my best bet would most likely be to use the sword. Yeah, that would make the most sense…..
Assignment took MUCH longer than I thought it would, though I was mostly too lost in thought to notice. Once it had wrapped up I was snapped out of my thoughts by Charley, “HOLY SHIT MAN DID YOU SEE THAT?” His excitement from before my awakening still present, “DUDE I CAN GET INTO ANY SCHOOL I WANT TO WITH THIS. To be honest I was thinking of just giving up becoming a professional fighter and going to an old-world school for math and science or something like that. But after THIS I can't imagine going anywhere BUT a fighting school.” It was weird, Charley was undoubtedly talking much faster than I had ever seen him but his mouth was moving much slower than I had ever seen it and the words were taking much longer to reach me.
“CHAR,” I started to speak, the words coming out a lot slower than I could think of them, “THAT WAS INSANE MAN! I expected you to get something good but that was just….wow.”
“Yeah, I know. I guess I'm just amazing like that,” he said with a smirk. Then suddenly his gaze softened, his eyes, losing most of the happiness that had been present. “But…..how you doin’ man? Your awakening was….,” his silence seemed to drag forever, “..not great.”
“Don’t worry bout me man,” I said, hoping my face didn't betray me, “I got it all figured out, I had A LOT of time to think bout it during the latter half of the assignment. It was so much longer than I thought it’d be.” Charley’s face scrunched up when I said this. He seemed confused.
“I thought the assignment wrapped up pretty quick after you went but I guess I was just too excited to notice.”
“CHARLEY…….CHARLEY.” A strong female voice came from the crowd. Charley winced once he finally heard the voice. It was tough to pinpoint exactly who it was over the crowd of people excitedly talking.
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“I guess they want to see me,” Charley sighed, “Call me later tonight once you're done talking with your family. I wanna see what our next steps are.” With a wink, he walked off towards who I could now make out to be his mother. As Charley started to walk off, with each step time seemed to slow more and more. People, not just Charley, seemed to move slower, and the conversations people were having became clearer. My body was moving but it was so slow that it was difficult to tell. It took what felt like hours to reach the door five feet behind me.
“I need to clear my head, something’s not right. Everythings moving so slowly.” I closed my eyes and started to focus on my thoughts. The only thing that wasn't moving slowly was my brain, in fact, it seemed to be going faster. I had already been pretty good at planning, at thinking ahead, and that usually required me to think pretty fast but this was a whole new level. I slowly opened my eyes focusing on the tiles on the floor, my thoughts slowed, the world speeding up. Conversations became less clear, people started moving faster. I took out my phone, only a little slower than I would have normally, and saw a text message from my father.
I started reading, “We’re setting up a surprise for you at the house, can’t wait to see you!” Something felt wrong. I scrolled up my text messages with him and started to read the replies. “Yep,” “Got it,” “Ok”. Barely ever were his texts over three words and he had never, ever, used an exclamation point. He also rarely started a conversation. My stomach started to hurt. Something was definitely wrong.
The walk home was interesting, Charley had offered me a ride but I turned it down after seeing the disapproving scowl on his parents' faces. It’s not like someone's assignment is the end all be all in someone's life, I didn't HAVE TO go down the route of a fighter. ‘Normal’ jobs still existed, lawyers, store clerks, and office workers were all still viable career paths so why were people acting so weird after my assignment? I didn't PLAN on going into any of those career paths but they had no way of knowing I still wanted to be a professional fighter or maybe even a hunter. They couldn’t know I still planned to at least TRY. Maybe that didn't matter to them though. It’s not like those career paths are typically respected anymore. I could feel myself starting to slow down and my thoughts starting to speed up. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and focused on my feet until the world sped up once again. Is this what everyone had to go through? How was everyone so much better at dealing with it than me?
My house, big as it was, started to come into view. The sun was high in the sky, assignment only took around four hours. Meaning it was about noon. “I’M HOME,” I yelled once the door opened. To my surprise, nothing immediately happened. “Mom? Dad?” I said in a quieter voice. Their shoes were at the door and their slippers were gone from the holder. I slipped off my sneakers and put on my slippers. I turned the corner into the kitchen and saw my parents sitting there silently. I could make out red under my mom’s eyes where she had clearly been wiping tears. My dad had the same stone-cold face he always did, devoid of any clear emotion.
Suddenly my dad spoke, “Sit down Donald,” his voice was scary. No, it was terrifying. I couldn't pinpoint the emotion he was trying to convey but he was far from monotone. In between them was what looked to be a stack of money.
“OK?” I walked over and took my seat on the opposite side of the table from my father. My mom looked as if she was about to cry once again. It was difficult to keep my curiosity in check while also focusing on keeping everything moving at a ‘normal’ speed. Before my dad could start talking I started, “Look, I know what you're gonna say but don't worry I already have a plan. It’s not like I HAVE to be a professional fighter or hunter,” my father grimaced as the words came out of me, “BUT I still want to be,” I let my words linger for a second, “So my plan is-” my words were interrupted as my father cut in.
“Enough, we all know that you can't become a professional awakened so,” my father pushed the pile of money towards me, “here's five hundred dollars and there's another five hundred on your card. I didn't want to give you anything but your mother,” he gestured to his right, “insisted we give you something.”
“W-What do you mean Dad?” The more I looked the more familiar the look on his face became.
“Well,” my mother chimed in, “We have certain standards to uphold. We are a powerful family and we,” my mother gestured to herself and my dad, “Have to be strong to uphold those standards. Don’t take it personally, the same would have happened to your brother if he had your awakening, you were just…..unlucky,” she seemed to choke on that last word. “We didn't want to do this but we had no choice.”
“Of course you have a choice I’m your SON,” I made sure to put emphasis on the word ‘son’. “What are you trying to do?”
“You're eighteen,” my father began, “that means you're legally an adult. Your own person. We no longer have to see each other and we certainly no longer have an obligation to house you. So from today onward,” his voice got deeper, his tone becoming much harsher, “we don't want to look at you, we don't want to breathe the same air as you, and we most certainly don't want to talk to you. We’ve already packed all of your things, they're outside in bags.”
I could no longer hold back, “So what? You're kicking me out because of a bad awakening? You CAN’T do that, you're supposed to support me! You're supposed to love me! That’s your job!” I stood up, the tears in my eyes starting to roll down my cheeks, “THAT'S YOUR ONE JOB. TO LOVE ME.”
“AND WE DID,” my Father shouted, “WE DID LOVE YOU NO MATTER WHAT YOU DID. WE SUPPORTED YOU THROUGH YOUR BAD TEST GRADES, AND THROUGH ALL YOUR PROBLEMS,” his face began to contort even more, “BUT WHAT IS LOVE WITHOUT EXPECTATION. WE EXPECTED YOU TO HAVE A GOOD ASSIGNMENT AFTER ALL YOU HAVE FAILED TO DO AND YOU COULDN’T EVEN DO THAT! YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF THE LOVE YOU THINK YOUR OWED!”
I started to stand up, “THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS,” I had fully stood up at that point and started walking toward him, “ I ALWAYS HAD GOOD GRADES EVEN THOUGH I FAILED A COUPLE TESTS AND I ALWAYS SOLVED MY PROBLEMS WITH ENOUGH TIME. YOU'RE JUST MAKING EXCUSES! IF SOMETHING AS SMALL AS THIS COULD MAKE YOU ACT LIKE THIS THEN YOU NEVER LOVED ME AT-” My father disappeared from my vision as reality started to slow. I watched as he slowly made his way towards me at speeds I never should have been able to see. He balled up his fist and swung towards my stomach. I tried to move and block the punch but my body couldn't move fast enough, it could barely move at all. As his fist connected to my stomach and darkness started to take over I could finally make out the look on his face, disgust.