Zed found himself in the confusing task of jogging in the morning.

Ash had woken him at the crack of dawn from a sleep he really needed. She’d given him a tooth brush with a dash of toothpaste on it, and while he wondered just how much of the old world had made it into the world after the second awakening, he’d asked no questions. No one complained at a chance at brushing their teeth.

After that, Ash marched him up the stairs and into Oliver’s room where they found Oliver dressed in sweat pants and a sleeveless top. From there, he was marched into the bathroom. The shower was cold and he felt he could’ve done without it.

Two hours later Zed was panting like a dog. Oliver and Ash had pushed him beyond his limits, forced him into a full sprint for most of the hours. They took short breaks that lasted less than five minutes at intervals during which Zed struggled to catch his breath while they waited.

As Zed heaved, sucking gulps of air at the end of the session, he found himself wishing he’d allocated more points to speed. Although, something told him he wouldn’t have had enough, not unless he borrowed from his other aptitudes. Though he wondered if speed would have made a difference. That was the problem he’d learned since discovering his aptitudes. It was lacking.

There was speed, wil, strength, agility and mana. The problem was they didn’t truly encompass everything. For instance, his current scenario required endurance. So did speed cover for this or was it strength? And if his mana could be quantified, why not his vitality; his life?

You can describe my level of mana with numbers so why not my life? He wondered. It took him only a moment to discard it. In his opinion, his mana could finish and it could grow to become more but he doubted his life followed the same rule. It could finish, yes. But how did someone’s life grow?

He frowned at the mild confusion and settled for a simple agreement. There were simply other aspects of himself that his personal information had refused to quantify, either because it couldn’t or it simply didn’t. It was not an accurate decision but it was a peaceful one, and he settled for peaceful.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he returned to the present.

“What was the point of this?” he asked between pants, lying in the grass. “And just how many points did you guys put in speed.”

“Not a video game, Zed,” Ash said. She didn’t look or sound like someone who’d been sprinting for most of two hours.

“And if it was,” Oliver said. “I’d say you should be asking more about speed and agility. They work hand in hand to boost acceleration; speed and sprint.”

Zed looked up at him from his place lying in the grass. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is—”

“No,” Ash cut Oliver off. “I will not have you going full video game nerd on me. Not this morning. And certainly not before breakfast. All he needs to know is that this isn’t a video game. You don’t put points to stats and experience changes. You work and sweat and suffer for every gain.”

If only she knew.

They’d come to a stop at a field with swings and slides and the simple structures that catch children’s attention and begged them to play. While Ash and Oliver stood beside a swing set, Zed caught his breath lying beneath the shade of the slide, protected from the slowly growing glare of the sun.

“Remind me why we’re doing this again,” Zed said. “Isn’t mana all we need to get stronger or something?”

“No,” Ash answered, slipping a loose strand of blonde hair that had escaped her tied up hair behind her ear. “It takes more than just mana to get strong properly. That’s why Jason was able to knock you down so easily after your fight that day.”

“No,” Zed raised a tired arm in protest. “I think that was because of the class difference.”

“He wouldn’t have knocked me down that easily,” Ash said.

“Yea, because he’s got three categories on you and has like six on me. I’m doodoo-butter to his doodoo-platter.”

Ash paused. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

“No,” Zed said. “I think my brain’s fried from all the running. What I meant to say was that I’m like an ant to him. The outcome was unavoidable.”

“And that’s why we’re here,” Oliver said. “To make the outcome less unavoidable.”

Zed pushed himself to sit up and look at them.

“So what you’re saying,” he said, “is that even though we’re mages that literally get stronger by strengthening our mana through sucking it from the air—”

“And growing it through other means,” Ash added.

“—we still need to train our bodies,” Zed continued without missing a beat. “So what’s the point to mana if we still have to work out. It’s almost like—”

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

* You have gained +1 [Speed].

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“You know what,” Zed said, discarding the notification. “Whatever it is, your idea sounds very logical. What other kinds of training do you guys do?”

Oliver laughed. “That was a very sharp turn around.”

“Yea,” Ash said, dragging the last syllable emphatically. “What just happened there? It was like something caught your attention and you changed your mind.”

“Not really,” Zed said, getting to his feet. “I just reasoned there’s no harm in getting all the strength I can get. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll stand toe to toe with Jason. Although, I’ll have to start with you, first, Ash.”

Oliver and Ash exchanged a look then burst out laughing.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“You know Jason’s growing, too, right?” Ash said. “And so am I. By the time you get to category two I’d have broken into Rukh.”

“And by the time you’re getting into category three, Jason would be breaking into Bishop,” Oliver said. “All things being equal.”

Zed shrugged. “Never say never.”

“That’s true,” Ash agreed, nodding. “That’s a good attitude to keep. And since we’ve kicked up your mana with that light run, I say now’s a good time to teach you how to get stronger. Take a seat, I’ll teach you how to strengthen your core so you get stronger. It will help—”

Zed waved her down. “Nah, I’m good.”

She paused to look at him blankly. “What do you mean you’re good?” she asked. “You sounded like you were willing to do whatever it takes to get stronger just a moment ago.”

“Yes. But I’m not saying I don’t want to learn. I’m saying I already figured it out last night.”

“Wait,” Oliver said, confused. “Let me make sure I’m getting this right. You’re saying you learned how to temper your mana core last night; with no assistance?”

“Well I did have a little assistance,” Zed said. “Ash told me it’s like aura sensing but on the inside instead of the outside.”

“And you figured it out from just that?”

“I wouldn’t say just that, but yes, I figured it out.”

“Are you sure?” Ash asked, skeptical. “Sometimes people think they’ve figured it out only to find out they’re actually doing the wrong thing.”

“Nope,” Zed shook his head. “I’m pretty certain I got it right. You can even say I’m mathematically certain.”

Oliver and Ash stared at him.

“No?” he asked, surprised. “Nothing? Not even a pity chuckle? Wow. Tough crowd.”

“Your jokes are getting worse, Zed,” Oliver said.

“Horribly so,” Ash agreed. “But that’s not important. You’re still tired from that run. And while I’d like to push you more, pacing is very important. So that’s enough running for you.”

“So that’s it?” Zed asked. “I can go back to the house?”

“No,” she said. “Now you go to camp management and ask Greg for Festus. We’ve gotten the all clear from Heimdall and your training starts today. It won’t be much before the next hunter test we’re trying to set up for you, seeing as you missed the one we planned for, but anything is better than nothing. Festus will teach you about runes for the rest of today, then tomorrow you’ll meet an old friend of Heimdall’s.”

“And what’s he going to teach me?”

“How to fight.”

………………………………..

“So what you’re saying is this is more like an apology than a favor?”

“Yes,” Jason answered.

He was seated on an uncomfortable wooden chair like the kinds used in bar fights in Hollywood movies, back when there were Hollywood movies. He’d heard rumors that in California where VHF made their headquarters Hollywood still lived. There was much doubt in him about that but he rarely ever dwelt on it.

Jason sat opposite Ivan, hoping the man would not press the issue. Jason was more than capable of teaching Zed how to fight, but he felt it was best if he gave him the opportunity to be trained by the best he knew. It was a favor many people didn’t get, and even now, Jason saw it less than a favor to Zed and more of an apology. A gesture of good will. The Moscovian sloth incident wasn’t entirely his fault, but it had been avoidable. He had, after all, taken Zed in search of the monster. A monster he knew Zed’s barbaric style of butchering away at his enemy could not defeat.

After all, Zed had been the one to make the stupid decision in the fight. But Jason had pushed him to it. Ash had been right; he hadn’t needed to go that far. They’d already put Zed through a few things they didn’t entirely have to. But Jason had needed to be sure; needed to be certain Zed could handle his own and keep on moving forward.

The world as it was now, would show no mercy to anyone who couldn’t.

Still, if he hadn’t pushed Zed that far, Zed wouldn’t have made the mistake he’d made. With his healing factor and him already jumping around, it was easy for Jason to discard the incident as water under the bridge, but that would be weak of him. That the injuries from an offence had healed didn’t make an apology no longer necessary. That was the thinking of a small mind. When someone was offended, the one who gave the offence needed to apologize.

It was only right.

“Are you sure this is how you want to use the favor I owe you?” Ivan asked, his thick voice bouncing off the wooden walls of the training room, a small abandoned in-door basketball court in an almost forgotten school building.

Jason shrugged.

“I’ve thought about it,” he said. “And let’s be honest, I’ve seen no way to collect on the favor, and it’s been three years. I figured I can use it like this or hold on to it for another three years.”

Ivan watched him with deep blue eyes and a patient frown.

“You say you guys found him at the shed?” he asked.

Jason nodded.

“I don’t get it, then,” Ivan said, scratching his head.

“Get what?”

“What makes him so special? I get that he’s an attribute mage and Heimdall has always wanted one in his growing suicide squad, but why are you guys going out of your way to help him.”

Jason’s brows furrowed in confusion. Two questions crossed his mind and he chose the one he was more likely to get an answer to.

“What do you mean you guys?” he asked. “Has someone already been here?”

“Yes,” Ivan answered and got up from his seat.

The man was massive, larger than even Heimdall, and his size had all but swallowed the chair he’d been sitting on.

“Who came?” Jason asked, surprised.

“Your noisy friend Oliver. He did give me a bit of a warning, though. He said your new friend’s got a personality on him.”

Jason groaned and rubbed a hand through his hair. “Yes,” he said. “Zed can be childish at times.”

“So can Oliver,” Ivan said. “What’s so different between them?”

“Well, you know how Oliver’s charm can sometimes come of like that younger brother that’s your favorite sibling?”

“No,” Ivan said flatly. “But go on.”

“Well, Oliver gives off that kind of childish to most people. But Zed’s more like a man-child. He’s like a grownup who keeps doing annoying and childish things, without the Oliver-charm.”

“And this is the guy you want me to train?”

Jason gave him a weak smile. “Yes?”

………………………………………………..

Zed walked into the container that served as the office for camp management with a skip in his step. He’d returned to the house for a shower after the run and had slipped into another pair of clothes. This one was an attire of forest green shorts that settled midway down his calf and a simple cotton shirt.

“Hey, Greg,” he greeted the camp manager with his most amiable smile. “Isn’t it a beautiful morning?”

Gregory looked up at him from behind his desk with a bland expression stained with a mild thoughtfulness. It took Zed a moment to recognize the look.

“You can’t be serious,” Zed said, aghast. “You can’t tell me you don’t remember who I am. We met like a week ago, maybe two.”

Gregory’s brows furrowed slightly but the expression didn’t leave his face.

“My specialty’s the tomahawk?” Zed tried.

Gregory’s expression didn’t waver.

“I came with Jason and the gang,” Zed tried again. “Dude, you’ve got to be kidding me. I’m literally the only guy in this entire town with auburn hair.”

“Is there something you want?” Gregory asked.

“You remember me, then, right?” Zed pressed, now resting his hands on Gregory’s table. “I definitely can’t be that forgettable.”

“I know every name in that book,” Gregory said. “That I remember you after one meeting doesn’t make you any more special than that kid walking away from us.”

Zed turned to look at the kid, saw four, and turned back.

“Which one?” he asked.

Gregory said nothing. Zed had no idea what point the man was trying to make.

“You know,” Zed said. “If you remembered me, you could’ve said something in the beginning, no need to play the silent game.”

“I thought if I said nothing, you’d eventually go away.”

“So why’d you talk?”

“You didn’t go away. Now tell me what you want so I can go back to what I was doing.”

“Festus,” Zed said. “I was told to meet you so you could point me to him.”

Gregory nodded once and reached into the drawer under his table.

“Festus,” he muttered as he rummaged through the drawer. “I believe I’ve got just the thing you need.”

He pulled out a large paper and spread it out on his desk but didn’t look at it. Zed, however, took a quick glance and his face fell.

“Gregory,” he said. “Why did you bring out a map?”

“Because you’ll need one to find Festus.”