“I’m sorry, Mr. Razzetti, but you still don’t meet the requirements to graduate.”

I stared at Ms. Brooks, processing the information.

“Wha- what do you mean?”

The Adventuring class instructor had called me over to her desk before class, while we waited for the last few tardy classmates to straggle their way in. I’d been dreading a conversation like this, but I’d held out hope that if I just ignored the problem for long enough, that it would just go away on its own.

Looks like I was wrong.

“The requirement is simple: in order to graduate from Adventuring, you need to complete at least one successful hunt.” she said.

“But- we killed that Spinoraptor thing!”

“...and one of your squadmates died. Would you call that a success?”

I looked at the floor.

“No. But what about the Duodon? I-”

Ms. Brooks held up a hand to stop me.

“I hate to say it, because of how incredible your feat was, but… that wasn’t a normal kill quest - the kind that Adventurers make their living from.”

My chest sank.

“How ‘bout them Fishlights?” I offered weakly.

She shook her head slowly. “If they were mature red-lights that had teeth, we would have accepted it - but those were juveniles. To pass this class, your squad needs to kill something that can fight back. And make it back in one piece.”

“Fine. So what happens now?”

Ms. Brooks looked down at a piece of parchment, which listed the names and squads of each of my classmates.

“We’ll need to assign you to another group. It’s not ideal, but your other teammates - Beck and Sylvana - have informed me that they will not be returning to class. Seems that only you were cold and unaffected enough by the death of your squadmate to come back before graduation.”

“Hey!”

“I’m sorry, that was a joke.” she said with a sympathetic smile. “It’s actually a good quality - Adventurers meet death all the time, but they need to eat regardless.”

Ms. Brooks would make a solid pickup artist with backhanded compliments like that.

“Let me see… the problem here is, every other group has already fulfilled the hunting requirement, and I doubt they’d be willing to risk their lives for a stranger. Unless… you can think of any other squad that intends to go on another hunt?”

Finally, I could see the punchline coming. And it wasn’t remotely funny. Terror descended upon my shoulders like a vengeful bitch named Jennifer, clawing at my delts with razor sharp talons.

“Nope!” I blurted, a little too hastily. Ms. B cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, we’d better put it to the class, just in case.”

During our discussion, the rest of the students had finished filing in. A few were even listening in - including one unfortunate piece of work in the front row.

“Attention, class!” Ms. Brooks announced, rising from her desk and moving front and center. “Mr. Razzetti here still needs to go on a hunt! Are there any groups willing to take him along on a kill quest? He might not look like much, I’ve been told that he can use ice magic!”

I looked around desperately, but everyone in class looked away. Except one solitary hand that went up immediately. Eagerly.

“We’ll take him.” said Burt, raising his voice to discourage anyone else from challenging him. “We needed another person anyway.”

Ms. B (itch) clapped her hands delightedly. “Wonderful! Bradley, you can join Burt’s squad then. Unless you have any objections?”

I looked around again helplessly. If there was an out, I wasn’t seeing it.

My game yesterday with Owen floated back to me - as the game slowly ground to its inevitable conclusion, I’d been backed into a corner, fighting for every last inch. But at last, I had no more good moves. Every move I made would have lost material - one of my few remaining pawns, my final bishop, the security of my king. If I was allowed to pass my turn, I would have been fine. But in chess, if it’s your turn, you have to move. Zugzwang.

How did it end like this?!?

If I was Jerith, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I would have made friends with as many classmates as possible. Then at least one of them would be rising to my defense right about now.

But I’m not Jerith. I’m alone.

Beck was gone. Sylvana was gone. Jerith hated me.

“What if I don’t graduate?” I asked Ms. Brooks.

“Then you won’t get your totem, and you won’t be able to work at any Guild in Alterra. You’ll be regarded as a flunkie by society. Some people go off to accomplish great things without graduating from the year of study - but in spite of that, not because of it.”

If Alterra’s anything like America, it’s not a kind place to people who don’t get their G.E.D…

“Well, I’m also taking Smithing right now!” I argued. “And I’ve already passed the Math exam! So, I have skills that are marketable! Why can’t I just graduate in those classes?”

Ms. Brooks gave me a pained look. “Because you’re a male, Bradley. Men in Castella must graduate either Military or Adventuring to confirm that they’ve had some kind of combat training in case they are drafted to serve in the army.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Fucking WOMEN…

I stared at Burt, and he looked right back at me, his eyes betraying nothing of his intent. Stella sat beside him, arms crossed, looking away from me. Don’t ask me what Clayton was up to, I wasn’t gonna look at that pile of ancient feces.

At last, the reality of the situation sank in.

“Fine. I’ll join you.”

I made my final, awful move against Owen, and promptly lost.

Both the game, and the friend.

----------------------------------------

I grunted, and thrust the metal skyward.

Seven!

Then I dropped it like it was hot, heaving with exertion on the bench. I could normally only press that weight for five reps, but today was different. Today, I was preparing for war.

In a couple days’s time, I’d be heading back to the killing field with Burt. And from what I’d been told, he had big plans for this expedition.

That meant tomorrow would be a rest day, and today was my last chance to lift heavy.

“Hey.”

I turned towards the entrance of the Torture Chamber.

“Been awhile.” I answered.

I hadn’t heard Stella walk down the stairs, but there she was, arms behind her back, leaning against the door frame, waiting patiently for me to finish my set.

“We should talk.” Stella said flatly.

Women always want to talk.

I could’ve used her company here a while ago, but ever since Burt’s big announcement, I’d stopped having phantom conversations with her in between exercises.

“Congratulations on your engagement.” I managed.

“Thank you. Burt’s honestly a great guy. You might not see it, but I’ve spent a lot more time around him than you have, and he really does carry himself with dignity.”

“The child is his, right?” I asked.

“I’m not pregnant.” Stella responded defensively.

“I’m talking about Arrabella.”

Stella looked up and to her left. Cue the bullshit.

“Potentially.”

I nodded understandingly.

“I’m not mad. Not really.” I stated. “But… potentially? Was she seeing anybody else?”

“No.”

“Then it’s definitely his, right?”

“....yeah.”

I nodded.

Then why aren’t you upset by that?

?

!

I cracked a smile. “You two gave him a real taste for adventure, huh?”

Stella cracked a small, embarrassed smile of her own.

“I’ve been using my ice magic in front of the others.” she answered without answering. “Seeing as your secret is out, I didn’t think it mattered any more.”

“That’s fine. Thank you for keeping it to yourself as long as you did… I owe you one.”

“You wouldn’t have beaten Burt otherwise.”

“True.”

“Burt knows that as well. He’s not actually that mad about it. He was actually really impressed.”

“Is that why he wants me in the group?”

Stella shook her head.

“This hunting business is more about him than it is about you, Bradley. He’s been trying all year to find a Ground Dragon, but we keep running into those other creatures first. We thought we’d hit a dead end when that other kid quit, so it’s quite convenient for us that you’re so bad at kill quests.”

“Hey! My friend died!” I interjected.

“I know, I’m sorry.” she said guiltily. “You’re just so easy to needle. Anyway, I think this situation is pretty convenient for you as well.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”

“The kid who quit - Michael - was just our support. He didn’t really do anything for us, he just stood off to the side and carried our equipment while we handled all the fighting. That’s exactly what Burt wants from you. He wants you to stand off to the side and watch while he slays the dragon himself.”

I paused for a second to consider.

Weirdly enough, that sounds precisely like something Burt would do.

I nodded. “Alright then. If that’s all he wants, then I’m happy.”

“But if you want to lob a missile while we’re fighting, then go ahead.”

“Will do.”

A bit of the existential dread that had been following me around lifted, and I realized suddenly that that was the entire reason Stella had come here - to calm me down.

Do I really deserve that kind of consideration… from Stella of all people?

“Great! That’s all I wanted to say, enjoy the rest of your grunting!” she turned to walk away, but when she reached the entrance she turned back.

“Actually… that’s not everything.”

She looked directly at me, a worried expression on her face.

“Brad… do you hate me?”

It was an easy question. Should’ve been a layup. Just say ‘No, of course not.’ and everyone gets to go home happy.

Stella clearly wasn’t all bad, either. In fact, from a certain perspective, she might not even be a bitch…

But, like I said, I did owe her one. And what I decided to pay her back in was the truth. Nobody ever says what they really feel about anyone else, because as soon as you bring up their flaws, they shut down and stop listening. So their friends never give them any good, proper feedback, and they keep fucking their lives up until they’re ruined - financially, mentally, physically…

What do I think about Stella, exactly?

You ruined Jerith’s and Allison’s lives. That’s what I think of you.

Sounds cute in my head, but is it really correct? Stella wasn’t motivated by hatred - she found a man she wanted and pursued him relentlessly. The young, strapping son of a village leader. For a girl who had barely been in this world for a year, she was doing quite well for herself. A quiet life in a simple, out-of-the-way village would’ve appealed to me as well, if I wasn’t bound by fate to criss-cross the damn continent looking for ancient relics. I could understand who she was quite clearly. There was logic to it, not just the usual maelstrom of feminine chaos.

There was just one nagging problem.

“Yeah, I do hate you.” I said, looking down at the floor. It was the truth. It bubbled up from within me whenever I looked at her, distorting my vision. Every action she took, I assumed the worst until proven otherwise. And I couldn’t see that ever changing. There was something with her that was just so fundamentally, completely wrong.

“Why?” she asked, with the same hushed sadness in her voice that was contained in mine.

This time, I knew the answer immediately.

“Because you’re a woman.”

“I hope you-” Stella started, but she couldn’t get the rest of the words out. Instead, she turned and left, leaving me to the aborted carcass of my workout.

A few minutes later, my sanctuary had another intruder.

“So. Is this where you and that girl hang out?” came the voice.

I put the weight back down. I could barely see myself lifting the thing for a single more repetition, but I didn’t have anything else to do today. Nothing that I wanted to do, at least.

Especially not this.

“Hi Sylvana.” I greeted the pink-haired elf whose slight frame now filled the doorway, hands on her hips, chin jutting out combatively.

I’m going to throw up…