The Lesser One

by Zeppy Cheng

  Before I leave, I am handed a blank class sheet. “Mr. Red,” says the receptionist, “Dr. Barrimore has already informed us that he has elected to be your mentor. Therefore, you won’t have to go through the usual mentor selection process. Fill out this class sheet as he advises and hand it in when you are finished.”

  I take it and start towards Dr. Barrimore’s office. I figure I should start thinking of him as such now that he is my mentor and teacher. I know where his office is — he gave me his card, after all. It’s on the seventh floor, room 708. When I arrive, I knock.

  “Come in,” calls Dr. Barrimore.

  I enter. The room is the same size and layout as Dr. Irr’s, but instead of dog photos, the place is covered in pictures of fractals. I recognize one of them as the Mandelbrot set.

  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” Dr. Barrimore notices me looking at them.

  I nod. “Math is cool.”

  “My research does use a lot of math. But I have those up mainly because I think they tell us something about our universe.” He leans back in his chair, smiling a welcome. “So you’re here to be advised, right?”

  I nod.

  “Have you ever been advised before? I mean, in a college-like academic setting?”

  “No,” I say.

  Dr. Barrimore nods. “Ixtham is a specialty school and is chartered by the New York Adventurers’ Association. While we do have basic education classes, they are only to the point where one can pass the GRE. Our mission is to get you to pass that test as soon as possible.”

  “So what do you teach here?”

  “Spectral analysis.” Dr. Barrimore turns to his computer. “What math were you taking at your high school?”

  “Trig.”

  He nods. “You’re fifteen, right?”

  “I’m going to be sixteen in a month,” I say.

  “Good, good. At least you have some maturity. As far as Awakenings go, yours was not that early.” He types a few things into his computer. “So, let’s set you up for Lit II and History II, as well as let you finish trig. Once you pass those classes, you can move on to take the GRE.”

  “Am I going to be taking any adventuring classes?”

  “Yes, of course. You have six hours left in your schedule.” He hands me a sheet of paper. “These are the classes that you can take as a newcomer. You won’t be able to change your specialty until after you are drafted by a guild, so don’t worry about that.”

  I look at the class selections and their descriptions.

  Portal Theory I

  Monster Taxonomy I

  Spirit Circle Identification and Renumeration

  Practical Party Management

  Signs and Signals

  Dungeon Mapmaking I

  Spirit Circle Acquisition (Practical)

  General Spirit Theory I

  Spirit Anatomy

  Mixed Martial Arts (Practical)

  Equipment Management

  Field Experience (Practical)

  Psionic Physics I

  Spirit Field Manipulation

  Spectral Analysis I

  It’s a lot and I feel overwhelmed. I turn to Dr. Barrimore. “Can you help me?”

  He rubs his chin. “I would take General Spirit Theory first, as you’re going to have to take that eventually.” He pauses. “And I would also take Spirit Anatomy or Spirit Circle Id-Rem. Both of them would help you find your specialty.”

  “Spirit Circle, er, Id-Rem sounds good.”

  Dr. Barrimore makes some marks on a sheet of paper and enters something into his computer. “Good. Your first classes start in…” He checks his watch. “Fifteen minutes! Go on and have some fun. Come talk to me after all your classes are done for the day and we can discuss your part as my lab assistant.”

  “Okay!”

  Dr. Barrimore prints out a paper with my schedule. Smiling, he hands it to me. He’s a lot less ornery than I was told, I think. Maybe he’s just that way towards people who don’t believe in his research?

  After returning to the moment, I raise an eyebrow. My first class is General Spirit Theory One. Room 1409.

  I just hope I won’t be in over my head.

  5 Draft and Consequences

  A month passes.

  At first, since I started in the middle of a semester, I am piled to the top of my head with makeup work. Somehow, I manage to get through it, and eventually I start to understand what is happening in class. I am not close with anyone. Occasionally, I see Esla in the halls of the Association building, but I don’t talk to her much since she isn’t in any of my classes.

  I mostly keep to myself during breaks. Whenever I have free time, I work with Dr. Barrimore on his projects. His latest project is a study utilizing spectral analysis to prove that non-combat spirits can become useful after absorbing Spirit Rings. I, of course, double as his only lab assistant and subject number one. I split my time between measuring and being measured. Dr. Barrimore’s research is difficult, complex, resource-intensive, and very, very poorly funded. We haven’t yet had any breakthroughs that would give us the funding we need to complete the project.

  Dr. Barrimore is a slave driver. I’m constantly working until midnight after school, twelve hours a day on weekends. His reputation is well-earned.

  However, his work ethic means that he comes in before I do, leaves after I do, and probably spends most of his nights sleeping in his office.

  The only respite I get is my daily visit to Half Moon. Though I don’t drink the alcohol, I am enough of a regular that Jim keeps a stock of soft drinks and juice just for me. The bar, I learn, isn’t just for drinking, like other bars out there. It is a gathering place for the in-crowd among the Adventurers. Several times I have crossed paths with famous people — though house rules prohibit me from initiating contact with them unless they talk to me first.

  So far, that hasn’t happened. I presume this rule is to maintain the feeling of isolated calmness this bar fosters.

  The day of my draft approaches. I learn that there are seven other prospective Adventurers who have been Awakened and assigned in this city since the last draft. There is no quota for the guilds to maintain, so it is possible that all of us get chosen or none of us do.

  I spend my days uneventfully and, eventually, find myself before the door of the same penthouse temple where I was Awakened. Obviously, I got a reprieve from classes due to the draft. Seven other teenagers arrive, one by one, and sit down in the waiting room. I make eye contact with some of them, but most are nervous. Some arrive and sit together, apparently friends.

  Except for one. He looks to be about nineteen, and he comes swaggering into the room wearing a leather jacket and skinny jeans. His ears are pierced and his hair is tied up in a ponytail. My Anima vision swirls heavily around him, and I interpret it to mean that he is very, very powerful. Each movement he takes is clearly marked, as if he is sauntering through space-time where other people blunder blindly.

  His eyes sweep the room and fall on me. “You’re that Anima kid.” He sits backwards on a chair in front of me, wrapping his arms around the back support. “The one who works for that coot, Dr. Barrimore.”

  I shake my head. “He’s not a coot. He knows more about spirits than anyone else in this city.”

  The leather-jacket kid laughs. “My name is Dres. You look like an interesting kid.” His eyes are razor sharp. I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. At the very least I don’t want to get on his bad side.

  Dres taps his fingers on the edge of his chair. He doesn’t say anything. His eyes flicker up and down my body, watching me.

  “Is something wrong?” I ask.

  “I’ve seen you at Ixtham.”

  “Oh. I don’t remember seeing you.” I pause. “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” says Dres. “I’m mostly in higher-level classes due to my previous training.” He starts drumming on the chair. “Do you want to join the shooting club?”

  “Shooting?”

  Dres
grins broadly. “Yeah. You heard me. The shooting club.”

  “I thought guns didn’t work in dungeons.”

  “Who said we would be shooting with guns?” he says. “We use bows.”

  “But then why is it called the shooting club?”

  Dres shrugs. “Dunno. The founder just called it that.”

  “My spirit is an Anima,” I say. “I wouldn’t be of any help.”

  Dres shifts in his seat. “That’s exactly why I’m asking you to join! Shooting doesn’t care what spirit you are!”

  I think for a moment. “Okay. I’ll think about it after… if… I get drafted.”

  Dres twists his face with excitement. “Yeah! Man, you’re not going to regret this!”

  I shake my head. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “I know you will.”

  The door to the room opens. Dres winks. “Looks like it’s time. I’ll be seeing you.”

  Though I know I’ll be able to make at least some time for clubs, I doubt what Dres said about shooting not requiring a powerful spirit. Without a powerful spirit to compensate for my dismal physical skills, I don’t think I’d succeed.

  The man who enters the room is a Judge in full regalia. He glances at a paper on the clipboard he carries. “Joseph Ryan?”

  One of the kids in the room rises.

  “Follow me,” says the Judge.

  The kid obliges. After the door closes behind them, there is a tense period of time, where all I can hear are muffled voices. No one in the waiting room speaks.

  After about ten minutes, Joseph comes out. He appears distressed, not to the point of crying, but it is obvious he wasn’t selected for his first choice.

  The Judge returns. “Daniel Beth?”

  Another boy gets up and follows the Judge in. Ten more minutes pass. My palms are sweating. I feel a fever coming on.

  Daniel comes out, clearly elated. He shares a high-five with another one of the kids in the waiting room and hugs her briefly. After whispering something in his friend’s ear, he leaves.

  “Dres Antoin,” says the Judge next.

  Dres rises, giving me a thumbs-up. He follows the Judge into the draft room. Ten minutes later he’s back, a huge smile on his face. That was the obvious outcome, after all. I could sense Dres’s power the moment I met him. He makes eye contact with me, nods, and leaves.

  “Katie Gillmore,” says the Judge next.

  The girl who high-fived Daniel gets up and follows the Judge. This time, the selection process takes only five minutes. When Katie leaves, she is bawling. She hugs a friend and I hear her whisper something about not passing.

  This is bad news for me. As the weakest spirit in the whole room, and with my dismal scores in all aspects except intelligence, I doubt I’ll be able to top her.

  “Markus Red,” says the Judge.

  I get up. My knees crack, and I feel a sense of vertigo coming up. I follow the Judge into the room behind the door, the same room in which I had my Awakening. In the floor-to-ceiling windows, the whole of New York spreads out behind the panel of Judges.

  There are twelve people seated in a half-circle before the windows, representing the twelve registered guilds of the Greater Manhattan area. I recognize three of them from their insignia, the Black Cats, the Red Birds, and the Pearlash Diggers.

  If I can get in with one of them — a longer shot for me than winning the mega-millions — I will be set for life. But the best I can hope for is a mid-list guild. Most likely I won’t even be getting that.

  All four Judges of the Manhattan area, including Judge Erin and Judge Westley, are sitting behind the tables in the center of the arc of chairs.

  “Markus Red,” says Judge Erin, “your physical abilities are the lowest we’ve seen in a long while, but you have one in a thousand intelligence. Please make a case for why we should consider you with these base stats.”

  “Erm, I suppose if I’m one in a thousand intelligence-wise, and ten percent of people awaken spirits, and only ten percent of those awaken combat-capable spirits, then I would actually be one in one hundred thousand.”

  The Judges look impressed. “So you say,” says Judge Westley. “Your scores so far on the Ixtham midterm have been remarkable, despite your mid-semester entry. As well as this, Dr. Barrimore has given us a glowing recommendation letter.” Judge Westley’s face becomes grim. “However, as you probably already know, you are the first E-priority spirit to have been assigned Adventurer status by our panel in three years and seven months. Do you have an argument as to why a guild should accept you despite this assessment?”

  “I am willing to work as hard as I can to make up for my poor priority,” I say. “I don’t care how much I’m paid or appreciated.”

  “That’s good,” says Judge Westley. “As long as you understand.” He taps a gavel on a podium. “Therefore, we will proceed with the draft selection.”

  There is silence for a long moment. Then a voice from the right side of the panel speaks up. “The Riding Valkyries are willing to put forth three gil.”

  I have absolutely no idea what gil are. I know, though, that I probably will learn that in one of my classes at Ixtham. As such, I refrain from asking.

  There is a long silence. No one else offers up anything.

  “Very well,” says another Judge on the panel. “Markus Red is assigned to the Riding Valkyries as an apprentice Adventurer.”

  I feel warmth spread through my body. This is what I have been waiting for. This is the moment that will change everything.

  Judge Westley gets up and leads me out into the waiting room. He is not the same Judge who led me in. I am smiling and happy enough to be skipping — though I refrain because of the circumstances. Judge Westley slips me a piece of paper. I look it over — it is the room number of the leader of the Riding Valkyries, Andrew Tuffman. Judge Westley nods and calls the next kid up to the panel.

  I leave the courthouse holding the Awakening Room — a few blocks down from the Association HQ building — and head back, arriving ten minutes later. No one is in the hall — it’s the middle of class. Paper in hand, I head up to room 4012. I have never been this high in the Association building before, and the view out the corridor window is amazing. Feeling a little dizzy, I approach the door and knock.

  A soft voice says, “Hello? Come in.”

  I open the door.

  A lady wearing glasses and a bun looks up from a computer. “Ah, are you Markus Red?”

  I nod. “I was just drafted by the Riding Valkyries’ guild.”

  She smiles at me. “Since Andrew is at the draft right now, I’ll be the one showing you around our floor.” She gets up and straightens her blouse. “Follow me. My name is Mary.” She walks past me, through the door, and motions for me to follow. “Who is your mentor?”

  “Dr. Barrimore.”

  “Mm hm,” she says. “You’re lucky, then.”

  “No one else has said that. They all say I’m making the wrong choice.”

  “You’re Dr. Barrimore’s only student, right?” says Mary. “That’s not the case with the more popular professors. Dr. Winding has over a hundred students. Each individual student can only get maybe ten minutes a week with him.”

  “Oh, wow,” I say. “Why is Dr. Barrimore so unpopular?”

  “Because of his research.” Mary opens a door at the end of the hall. “This is the Riding Valkyries’ lounge. We can talk about Dr. Barrimore later.”

  The lounge is a cozy place, with a fireplace that’s purely for decoration and plush sofas. Whoever was in charge of the interior design had a liking of Victorian-era fashion. The wallpaper is of flowers and vines, and the floor features a large Persian rug. I admire the room before Mary leads me through another door.

  The common room, in deep contrast to the plush lounge, has the atmosphere of a den. The floors are concrete. There are various game tables arrayed at random. A tiki clock hangs on the wall, all kitsch and plastic. I can’t believe the rooms are in the same buil
ding, let alone connected. Two guys hang around a billiards table, shooting pool. A rather beautiful girl of perhaps eighteen sits and reads in a beanbag chair next to a small bookcase.

  “How many people are in the Riding Valkyries’ guild?” I ask.

  “You will be the fifth apprentice, and we have a total of eight full Adventuring members. Just enough for one party.”

  “Wow,” I say. “So you guys are small.”

  “We barely take up one floor. The Black Cats, on the other hand, take up five floors. They have over five dozen apprentices and two hundred full-fledged guild members.” Mary leads me through a door on the common room’s far side. “You can meet the rest of the apprentices later.”

  We walk along the hall running the length of the floor and she stops at room 4021. “This will be your dorm. Since the Riding Valkyries are so small, you will have a room all to yourself.”

  I knew from chats with full-fledged students of Ixtham that I would be living in a dorm after my draft. I just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. “What about clubs?” I ask. “Am I allowed to join now that I’m considered a long-term student?”

  Mary nods. “Of course you can. I assume you already have a club in mind?”

  “The shooting club.”

  “That’s a good choice for an Anima spirit.” Mary doesn’t seem to hold me in any lower regard when she says it. She smiles and hands me a card key. “This is for your room. The Riding Valkyries eat all their meals in the communal cafeteria. Of course, you won’t have to pay anything.”

  “Wait,” I say. “Why not? Will I be working?”

  “Has no one told you?” asks Mary. “Once you sign on with a guild, you will be going on dungeon crawls with us.”

  I blink and stare at her. “But I haven’t had any practical classes yet! And I’m not strong, either! I mean, an Anima!”

  Mary laughs. “Don’t worry. You’ll be working as a porter. You know, like a mule? All apprentices hold that job until they gain their first Spirit Ring and finish at least three semesters of Field Prac.”

  “I already have a job with Dr. Barrimore, though. Will I have to give that up?”