The front door of their house was impossibly loud as Ryan pushed it open, and he winced at every sound it made. Had the hinges always creaked like that? The handle seemed to slam back into place when he let go of it. He should have guided it to the end.
It wasn’t the first time that he wondered if he could control [Enhanced Senses] like he could [Hot Skin]. Maybe he had it dialed all the way up right now? More likely, it was the combination of him being so tired that he was leaning against the door and that he was trying to be quiet. There was a chance his parents were asleep already. If so, he wouldn’t want to wake them.
But of course, things never went according to plan.
The door was both impossibly loud as he opened it, and his parents sat at the kitchen table at the end of the hallway, their heads snapping up to look at him when he stepped inside. They rushed toward him.
“Ryan!”
“I’m home,” he called meekly.
This was the latest Ryan had even gotten home, probably. On his own at least. He’d gotten home later sometimes with his parents during festivals, but this was different. He wasn’t even wearing his own clothes. He still wore that oversized shirt that Micah had gotten him. Hopefully, they wouldn’t notice or be too angry.
“Where were you?” his father asked.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” his mother did.
They sounded more worried than angry, so Ryan relaxed a little. But only a little.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “We heard a whistle in the Tower today and went to help, and I stuck around for a bit afterward to make sure everything was alright. And, uh, I went to a bathhouse to wash up a little. I kind of lost track of time.”
“You heard a whistle? But you’re alright?” his mother asked, grabbing his shoulders and frisking his head as if to make sure for herself.
“Yes, I’m fine. And he is, too, the boy who we saved. It was the Stranya’s son, mom. Micah.”
“The Stranya’s?” his dad asked, taken back a little. “And he was in the Tower all this time?”
Ryan nodded.
“Is he a [Fighter] or something? How old is he? What, twelve?”
“His parents aren’t going to like that,” his mother added. “Isn’t his mother on the district council? To have one of her own go inside the Tower when she’s so against children going inside … Poor kid.”
“What?” Ryan asked, frowning.
He suddenly remembered that Micah’s parents might not be too happy with what he had done. What would that mean for Micah? Some kind of punishment, of course. But what kind? House Arrest? Chores? Ryan would have to ask next time he saw him. That sucked.
“No, he’s an [Alchemist],” he answered absent-mindedly, rubbing his face in exhaustion. “But, uhm, can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m really tired, I just want to go to bed.”
His parents seemed to really look at him then, again. His mother frowned — because of his shirt? — but his dad just said, “Sure, sure,” and waved him along. They seemed distracted for some reason.
Ryan walked up the stairs with a sigh.
“We’ll want the whole story tomorrow, though,” his father called.
“Sure,” he mumbled back.
“And Ryan?” his mother called after him. “You’re really alright?”
“Yes,” he said, pausing and turning back a little. “I had some … minor wounds, but I got those healed and I washed off like I said. Everything’s fine.”
“Ryan?” his father called him back again.
Ryan turned back again, stifling a groan.
“Yes?”
“You saved that boy, right?” he asked.
Ryan nodded.
“We’re proud of you, son. Sleep tight.”
Ryan was speechless for a moment, but he quickly said good night and rushed up to his room. He shrugged off his pack and fiddled with his belt until he could drop it on top. Then he threw himself into bed and kicked off his shoes over the edge.
He fell asleep with a sigh. Thankfully, there was no void waiting for him. He could sleep with a smile.
[Fighter level 5!]
[Skill - Lesser Endurance obtained!]
Ryan woke up to those words in the morning, feeling much more rested, and happily told his parents about the good news during breakfast. Finally, a second Skill from [Fighter]!
His father made him tell him the full story about Micah, and his mother listened with a half an ear while she got ready for the day. Near the end, they scolded him for running off and being so careless but still said that they were proud of what he'd done. Ryan smiled at that. His father tried to explain to him a little about the nuances of Endurance, Stamina, and Resolve, but his wife nudged him when he started and he looked up at her.
“Now?” he mumbled.
“Yes, now. When else?” she said softly.
“Alright.”
Ryan frowned as they both got up and faced him from the other side of the table. His father had an arm around his mother’s shoulders, and his mother a hand on her stomach. They smiled at him excitedly.
“We actually have some good news ourselves, Rye,” she said. “I’m pregnant!”
“You’re going to have a little sister soon.”
“Or a little brother,” she added.
Ryan dropped his piece of bread.
“What?”
“We were going to tell you yesterday, but you came home so late so we kind of let it slide.”
“I thought we’d wait until you ...” his father started speaking, but Ryan wasn’t listening anymore.
“What?” he asked again while he caught up with what she'd said, then again in shock, “What? How? Why?”
“Well, you aren’t home so often lately, being at school all the time and always training or studying, and we got lonely … ” his mother explained, trailing off.
So you’re replacing me? he thought but didn’t say it out loud. He was too busy staring at his mother’s stomach.
A little brother or sister … he thought, and then of Micah and Prisha splashing at each other in the water. No, he wouldn’t have that. Those two weren’t that far apart. Maybe four or five years, something around that. His sibling would be fifteen years younger than him. Sure, his parents were really young compared to others, especially Micah’s, but still. Wasn’t that a bit too extreme?
“The [Midwife] said that it is going to be an Autumn child,” his mother commented. “Early Winter at the latest. We’ll know for sure in a bit.”
“They’ve got Skills for that sort of thing. Isn’t that creepy?” his father asked as he sat back down again. His wife joined him.
A sibling, Ryan thought. He couldn't think of her or him like that.
“Do you have a name picked out yet?” he asked.
“We don’t even know if it will be a boy or a girl yet,” his mother said. “How are we supposed to decide on a name yet?”
“You could pick one out for both,” Ryan suggested, gaining a little more traction as he spoke. “Or a name that can be a boy’s or a girl’s! Can I help?”
His parents smiled.
“We’re happy you’re excited, but it’s much too early to be deciding on a name.”
“Yeah,” his father said. “We still have the rest of spring and the whole summer before it arrives. Plenty of time to pick one out.”
Something about that sounded fishy to Ryan. Lazy, even.
“When did you pick out mine?” he asked out of curiosity, barely squinting his eyes in suspicion.
“When was it?” his father wondered out loud.
“About two weeks after he was born, right?” his mother said.
“Yeah, that’s about right.”
“You’re saying I walked around for two weeks without a name?!” Ryan asked. For some reason, the thought of a person without a name seemed wrong to him. Especially himself. How could his parents have waited that long?
His father chuckled. “No, no. You weren't doing much walking then, Rye. No baby does. The only thing you liked to do was sulk.”
“Sulk? How can a baby sulk?”
“Oh, they can. Trust me. You had this look on your face, like … There! That’s the look.”
Ryan scowled even deeper when his father pointed at him, which wasn’t exactly helping his case.
“Where is the baby going to sleep?” he asked instead.
“Well, we were thinking that since you’re going to be graduating from the classroom soon anyway ... ” his mother started, “a lot of children move into dorms when they attend school full-time.”
“You want to give it my room? Where would I sleep?”
“You would be at school all the time and have your own room there,” she said. “Don’t worry, you’ll probably be too busy with all your new-found friends and classes that you’ll forget to visit your poor, lonely parents.”
She fake-sulked then, pushing around her leftover crumbs on her plate and sniffling a little.
“You really are replacing me, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Don’t be silly,” his father said. “If you really do visit, you would just sleep in the same room as your new sibling.”
“Next to a crying baby?”
His father nudged his mother, pointed at him and grinned.
“I’m not sulking!” Ryan insisted, then realized he was imitating a type of woodpecker that always sounded annoyed and stopped, blushing. His father chuckled heartily, and even his mother smiled. Ryan got up and stormed off to get his things from his room. He needed to leave soon anyway, or else he would be late for class.
His sword and shield were still lying there, strapped to his belt on top of his pack. Usually, Ryan brought them back to school on his way home from the Tower, but he had forgotten to yesterday. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get into trouble for that. He took them with him and stuffed them in his bag along with his books for today.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Then he put on his shoes and headed downstairs.
“Tell that Micah about your level up!” his mother called. “That’ll make you feel better!”
Ryan smiled when she mentioned Micah, but then he remembered that the boy probably wasn’t coming to class today. He was still recovering, after all. Maybe Ryan could skip school to visit him?
“Oh, and Ryan,” his father called. “We two are going to have a talk when you get home.”
We’re going to have a talk, Ryan remembered Gardener say, almost the exact same words as his father. Hadn’t he promised Ryan that after they found Micah? He’d been pretty pissed back then.
“Alright,” he called back as he left. “Bye!”
There was no way he could skip school today. He was in enough trouble with Gardener already. He’d have to go looking for him today, even if he didn’t have training. Better he got it over with sooner rather than later or it would eat him up inside.
He knew Gardener gave him somewhat preferential treatment because he was further along than other Early Birds — they always headed into the Tower with only one or two other good students, except when Gardener had to take a whole group because of lessons — but considering how angry he had been … Ryan wouldn’t be surprised if he’d have to run laps for the rest of Spring, or was stuck doing forms at school because he was banned from entering the Tower.
He couldn’t say he would mind it, honestly. The salamanders were off limits anyway and he had enough of the Tower for a while. Maybe he could use the time to focus on other things, like leveling up his class again or studying for entrance exams?
At least, the classroom was calm that day as he thought things over. The topic of Micah didn’t even come up. Ryan assumed the teacher knew that he was home — the teacher somehow always knew about stuff like that — but he chose not to say anything. The other children didn’t even mention him. The girl at the end of his row was curiously absent.
They would know soon enough. At the very least on Monday, when Micah came back to class and had to tell everyone about himself. Maybe Ryan could hang out with him during break to save him from the worst of the other kids’ questions? None of them even knew about his own Path, after all, only that he was a [Fighter]. He wondered if Micah would appreciate that. He seemed pretty thankful.
Then class ended much too soon and Ryan was headed for school that day. He went to the Armory first, as the students here liked to call it, and pulled his bulkier than usual bag from his shoulder. Inside, he’d hidden his sword and shield so the other kids wouldn’t see them, or else they would pester him with questions. Better to play alleyball during break than answer questions about the Tower. Especially since he’d win. He was better than most of them, after all, except for those with [Lesser Agility]. Stupid Skill.
“Is Mr. Gardener here today?” he asked Jenkins, the man in charge of the Equipment Storage, as it was formally called, while he handed over his two items.
Thankfully, the man didn’t comment on Ryan’s tardiness in bringing them back. He did, however, frown at the condition of the shield. It had scratch marks along the wood and blood stains. Students weren’t expected to pay for damages or do repairs unless that was part of their calling, but they were expected to do the minimum amount of upkeep.
Whoops, Ryan thought. He would have apologized, but Jenkins just put them aside while he spoke.
“I think he’s on his way out,” he said. “Heard he’s requesting a few days off because he pulled something yesterday.”
“He pulled something?” Ryan asked, surprised. From fighting the wolves? Or was it carrying the chest? He’d also had to climb into the cave in the wall ...
I’m not young anymore, Lisa is out of mana, and Gus is out of arrows.
Had he maybe hidden the injury? Was that why he’d been so angry or was it rude of Ryan to assume? Yeah, no, Ryan had screwed up. Best not to look for excuses or he’d only make things worse.
“I dunno,” the man said. “But you might want to hurry up if you want to catch him?”
“Right,” Ryan said, suddenly pulled from his thoughts, and he rushed off but doubled back again to call a quick thanks.
“You’re welcome,” Jenkins said.
Then Ryan sped down the hallways, to the East exit that Gardener usually used when he left. Through the open doors, he spotted the man’s back on the other side of the street and ran to catch up.
“Mr. Gardener,” he called, halfway there. "Wait!"
The man stopped walking, but by the way his shoulders moved it looked reluctant. Ryan could have sworn he saw a faint limp in one of his legs as well. Then he turned around and had a tired look on his face.
“Mr. Payne,” he said.
He didn’t usually address Ryan like that unless other faculty members were present. Ryan glanced around to check if there were but quickly decided paying attention to Gardener was more important.
“I was just headed home. What is it you need?” the man asked.
“I-,” he started, caught his breath. He frowned. “You said we were going to have a talk?”
Weird, he thought. Dad said the same thing. He expected Gardener to yell at him for running off like that, but he wondered what his dad wanted to talk about.
“I did.”
Ryan hesitated. “Uhm … and?”
“Do you want to get yelled at?” Gardener asked.
“I would like to get it over with, sir,” he answered honestly.
“Gardener.”
“I would like to get it over with, Mr. -” Gardener, Ryan wanted to correct himself, but the man cut him off.
“No. Drop the ‘mister’. Just ‘Gardener’. Since when do you call me mister?”
“Since I screwed up?” Ryan asked. He didn’t understand what the man wanted from him. What was he doing wrong this time? It was almost annoying. He was trying to do right by his mistakes. He always was. Couldn’t people just let him be?
“I was just trying to be respectful, sir.”
“Well, Mr. Payne,”—Ryan flinched a little at the grating sound of that—“does that sound respectful to you?”
“No?”
“Good. That’s because it isn’t,” he said. “I appreciate the sentiment, kid, but you should know me well enough to know that I don’t give a rat’s ass about that kind of stuff. And I know neither do you. I would rather you showed me respect in earnest, through action and time, and not through stilted formality, Mr. Payne.”
“Alright then, Gardener," he said earnestly. "I screwed up. I ran off and almost got myself killed. And I endangered Lisa and you and Gus because of it. I’m sorry for that. I would say I won’t do it again, and I will try not to, but I wasn’t thinking in that moment and if I were to do it again, I won’t be thinking then either.”
“Then maybe you should learn to think before you act.”
“Maybe you could teach me?” Ryan asked, hopeful. “When you come back, of course. Next week?” He tried to turn the mood, to get a smile out of the man, but Gardener just sighed instead and Ryan’s hint of a smile fell.
“Look, Ryan. Do you want to know what I saw yesterday when I ran down that slope?”
Ryan didn’t need to wait for an answer. He remembered all too well the wolf’s teeth pushing into his skin.
“I saw one of our best students heaving on the ground from over-exhaustion, too weak to help the other, who was fending off a wolf going for his neck. He was fending it off with his arm stuck in its mouth.”
Ryan gulped.
“Of course, you ended up impaling the bastard before I could help you, but what if you hadn’t? What if I hadn’t been there, Ryan? What would I have told your parents?”
He stared at Ryan, waiting for an answer, and Ryan felt lost.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
The man just sighed, as if he had been hoping for something else. He brushed one hand through what was left of his hair and went on.
“Listen. Rye. Sometimes, I just forget that you’re still kids. Linda always tells me, but sometimes I forget, alright? I think everyone does eventually, that the Tower is a place where people die.”
He shook his head tiredly.
“Am I banned?” Ryan asked. “From the Tower?”
More shaking. Then Gardener looked at him. “No, but I’m not taking you there anymore. Not while you’re still an Early Bird.”
“I understand, sir,” Ryan said.
Gardener gave him a look, probably because of the ‘sir’, possibly because of the words, but he stared the man down. He could be respectful in earnest and in formality if he wanted to. Screw anyone who said otherwise. And he did understand. He didn’t want to imagine how his parents would react if he didn’t come home one day. That would be awful. He wouldn't do that to them.
“Thank you for not yelling at me,” he added.
“Oh, I’m still going to do plenty of that. You’re going to have to run laps for that stunt, Rye. There’s no use getting around that.”
“Oh.”
And he’d gotten his hopes up, too.
“But that’s next week. For now, I’m just going to sleep for three days straight.” He let out a happy sigh. “Oh, and before I forget. I heard your little friend is an [Alchemist].”
He started fishing in one of his coat pockets and pulled out the glass bottle that Micah had given them yesterday, that the healing potion had been in. It was empty now.
“I put the potion to good use, emergency, but I’m told the bottle’s enchanted to be more durable. Might come in handy for an alchemist.”
Ryan took it carefully, despite what Gardener had just said it was enchanted with. Enchantments weren’t rare, per sè, but considering that the Tower People could only barely reproduce the most basic ones while the Northerners could make all sorts of things … It was a treasure in his mind, and probably an actual one, too. To a kid, at least.
“Thank you,” Ryan said. “I’m sure Micah will want to thank you, too, for everything you’ve done. He said so yesterday anyway.”
“You can tell him to bugger off,” Gardener said frankly. “That one’s more trouble than he’s worth. Now get to your lecture, kid. You’re already late.”
Ryan frowned but shrugged it off. It wasn't worth it.
“On it,” he said.
Gardener headed off while he put the bottle in his bag. He headed back to school in a rush. In his mind, he disagreed though, with what his instructor had said. Micah was a friend, hopefully. That meant he wasn’t any trouble at all.
----------------------------------------
Ryan got home early in the afternoon and found his father waiting for him in the kitchen again. He was home early, surprisingly. His mom wasn’t even home yet and she didn’t work as long as he did.
“Sit,” he said and Ryan sat.
"What did you want to talk about?" he asked nervously.
“With your mom being pregnant and you coming home late wearing a new shirt,” he started, “... well, your mother and I thought it was time I gave you the talk.”
“What talk?” Ryan asked.
“About the birds and the bees,” his father said.
“What birds and bees?” he asked like a broken record, frowning.
Why wasn’t his mother here? Usually, his parents did all their big parenting stuff together, like attending his first day of class, and the first day of school, and explaining his Path and Class to him. This seemed like a big parenting thing, by the way his dad was acting, and yet he was alone?
"It's just an expression," he father said, and his voice croaked a little as he did. Was he nervous? Why? "You see, Ryan. When a man and woman love each other very much ..."
He kept on talking and suddenly Ryan was suddenly very glad his mother wasn’t there. It would have been twice as embarrassing as it already was. Halfway through, Ryan’s ears were burning and he wondered if he could just stand up and flee. Did all the children’s parents talk to them about this? How horrible.
Near the end, his father asked him if he had questions, and he did. He had known a little already—boys talked—but mostly he’d painted a picture for himself from Gardener’s comments over the years. Clarification would have been nice, considering. But Ryan sincerely didn’t want to talk about that topic anymore right now.
“That’s alright,” his father told him. “You can always come to me if you have questions later. And remember, best to be safe. Think twice before you do anything. Take a cold wash if you have to.”
Ryan thanked him and shambled up into his room, horrified. What had been learned could not be unlearned. His poor innocence.
His mom came home a while later and knocked softly on his door while he sat at his desk and did homework.
“Rye?” she asked. “Did everything go alright with your father?”
“Mhm,” he said meekly.
“And you, uhh, don’t have any more questions?” She sounded just as uncomfortable as he felt.
“Nope.”
“Great. That’s, uhm, great. And did everything go alright with Mr. Gardener?”
“Yep. Running laps on Tuesday.”
“Also great. Also great. Uhm, good job doing your homework, young man. You show those books who’s boss. I’ll just ... I’ll just go then.”
“Thank you, mom.”
He heard her chuckle nervously as she went back downstairs. Ryan hadn’t turned to face her at all during the conversation, lest she would have seen how red his face was. He took a quick moment to calm down before he went back to studying.
He was studying for entrance exams after all. He knew most of the things already since he paid attention in class and did his homework, unlike others, but it was better to be safe.
Better to be safe, he remembered his father say, groaned and placed his head down on his desk.
By the end of the summer, Ryan would leave the classroom to attend school full-time. Apparently, he would have to move out then, too, when his baby sibling was born. He’d be a big brother. Fifteen. Sixteen, come New Year’s.
And then what? he wondered. Would he stay a [Fighter]? Hadn’t he only become one because of his Path? He couldn’t live off of whatever [Explarism Path] was, off of copying monsters. It was basically a philosophy, not even a science or a work. Not magic.
He was probably going to stay being a Climber, even though he grew up in Westhill. That felt strange for some reason. His parents didn’t really care about that stuff, Ryan had slowly realized over the last two years. Not like the others; Micah’s parents, the mayor, the neighbors, people in the market. He was going to stay being a Climber, keep doing what he’d been doing all along, and yet he wasn't. Everything would be different. He would leave the classroom ...
He pushed his hands through his hair and sighed.
Could he maybe do something else? Try out some Chores for a while? Find another Class or Path?
No.
No, he wanted to do this. It was just …
Everything was changing so fast. He just wanted a little more time to be here in his room at his desk and study.
And so he did.
He sat there until late in the evening until he fell asleep.
He woke up with a blanket around his shoulders. His body ached from the wooden chair and desk and yet, Ryan smiled. He sang a little tune with the morning birds. It was Friday and Gardener was on leave. He had classroom, but afterward, he had the whole afternoon to himself.
He still had a little while left before summer began, and a little while before it ended.