by Zeppy Cheng
“Huh,” says Koen. “You can be useful after all.”
I shrug. “Your spirit doesn’t say everything about you.”
Koen snorts, though she seems more amused than anything. She stands up and brushes her hands on her pants. “So?” She points a thumb towards the new bridge. “Shall we cross?”
“Just a moment.” Mattys claps his hands together. “My powers don’t limit me to making things slipperier.” He moves his hands in a round circle and a ball of ice forms in his hands. “Since you experimented first, it’s my turn next.” He rolls the ice like a bowling ball, sending it floating across the bridge, leaving behind a layer of ice. The rope bridge gains a sandpapery texture. It’s counterintuitive, and probably won’t work in any natural situation, but my Anima vision has no problem with it.
“It’s going to be easier to grip now,” he says. “Don’t worry about how it works.”
I make eye contact with everyone in the group. “Well, then, since I’m the least valuable member here, I might as well go first.”
Esla shakes her head. “You’re not—”
Corbin holds his hand out in front of her. “Let him be humble. At the very least, he knows that he can’t really be of much physical help. Though I have to commend him for the idea of twisting Koen’s bamboo like a rope. That alone proves he is useful.”
I share a thankful glance with Corbin. Truthfully, I don’t really mean it when I say things like that, but my own uselessness has really started grating on me lately. I’m starting to understand how Dr. Barrimore feels.
With a careful balance, I walk across the bamboo-ice bridge. The ice is just sandpapery enough to keep me from falling off either edge of the smooth bamboo.
“Yeah! You can do it, Markus!” yells Esla from behind me.
I’m halfway over. My heart is beating like a drum and I feel a sense of vertigo coming on. The rapids down below are a lot further than I thought they would be. I feel like I’ll trip and fall at any moment.
The bamboo shifts. A popping noise starts up beneath me. If I had been more athletic, if I had a higher dexterity stat, I would have stayed upright. But as it is, my foot slips, my balance goes wonky, and I tumble sideways. As I grasp for a handhold, my wrist hits the bamboo and cracks. I spin out of control and land in the water a couple of seconds later. I can’t see anything. The world is roiling liquid, muddy silt, and white-water rapids. I can’t seem to get my head above water.
A spike of bubbles erupts in front of me and Esla appears out of its center. She grabs me by the collar and rips me above the rapids. I take gasping breaths as Esla paddles me to shore. After dragging me onto the sand beneath the cliff face, she turns upward. “You guys go ahead!” She turns to me. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head, too stunned to think properly. “Leave me. I can’t help you.”
“Who cares if you can help me or not? You’re my classmate. My group-mate. I’ll do what I can for you.”
I cough. “I can’t do anything right. It’s my fault that I fell.”
Esla, distressed, takes me by the cheeks. “You didn’t choose your abilities. And you were made an Adventurer for a reason. I don’t know you well, but I know that you are stronger than you think you are.” She stands up, holding out her hand. “Come on. We can climb up this cliff and join the others.”
I try to stand up, but a piercing pain lances through my wrist, my chest, and my heel. I may have broken some things. A lot of things.
Esla sighs and grabs me by the sides. She lifts me onto her back and stands up with my arms draped over her shoulders. She looks up at the three students remaining on the cliff. “You can cross!” she shouts. “It’s not dangerous! Markus just slipped!”
“You shouldn’t have been able to!” yells Mattys. “I made that bridge extra clingy!”
Corbin holds his hand in front of Mattys. “I understand. We’ll cross, finish this, and get you some help.”
Esla nods, holding out a thumbs-up. “You don’t have to! We can find our way out in less than an hour!”
Corbin nods, a serious expression on his face. “If you’re not out by the time the assignment ends, we’re coming back for you.”
Koen seems like she wants to say something — I can tell even from here at the bottom of the ravine. I make eye contact with her and do my best to smile, though it’s a little difficult with the pressure my broken rib is putting on my chest.
Koen tilts her head as if to ask, Should I help?
I shake my head no. Koen nods knowingly. I know that she could produce enough bamboo to allow a functional person to climb back up the ravine, but I am not functional. Esla also can’t climb with me weighing her down. We could arrange something to carry me up, like a system of pulleys or something, but that would cut dangerously into our time limit.
I wave with my good hand. “We’re fine.”
The three above us nod and face the bridge. After two uneventful minutes, they’ve safely crossed.
“You can get back up there, too,” I say to Esla.
Esla jostles me and I am unable to suppress the whimper. “I’m staying with you. You can’t be left on your own in this state.”
“Thank you.”
Esla doesn’t answer.
“We’re going on!” yells Corbin from the other side of the ravine. Then he, Mattys, and Koen turn and start towards the end of the course. Just as they are about to disappear behind the rock face, Koen turns to me and nods. I smile as best I can. Then the three of them are gone.
I cough, sending pain shooting through my chest.
“If only we had a healer. When we get out of here, I’ll make sure to get you one.” Esla looks up at the sky, questioningly. “If this actually happens to count as a dungeon, the rules may apply.”
Healers can only cure injuries obtained within a dungeon. The place we’re in may or may not count as one. I hope it’s the former. I don’t want to waste weeks in a hospital recovering from this.
Esla carries me down the length of the ravine, following the riverbank. The sloping floor is covered in boulders and muddy silt. Several times she stumbles and almost falls. Each time I hurt more than before. I pass in and out of consciousness. I must have received a concussion when I fell.
The ravine’s sides grow shorter, the river wider. The rapids are behind us. The water in front of us flows straight and clean, carrying little bits of driftwood.
We walk out onto a river delta flood plain. Ten meters from the end of the ravine, a lake begins. The opposite side is shrouded in mist. The river water meets the lake water in a churning estuary that ripples across the flat, pristine surface. Esla turns towards the beach that runs alongside the lake. The beach is a strip ten to fifteen meters thick that lies underneath a twenty-meter-tall cliff. As the distance from the canyon grows, the cliff lowers to meet the beach.
Esla carries me towards that meeting point. “We’re off the trail. I don’t know if I’ll be able to find it again.”
I shake my head. “We’re not going to make it.”
“What? You want to wait for someone to rescue us?”
I can’t shake my head any more. It hurts too much. “Thank you for rescuing me.”
“We’re going to make it,” says Esla. “Whether or not we find the trail again. We’re going to push through. Can you see where the portal is with your Anima vision?”
I try my best to cast my Anima vision as far as it will go. There seems to be a blue sort of glow in the distance. Maybe. “That way.” I point, feeling that direction is better than the rest. At least we’ll be going somewhere.
Esla shifts her hold on me. “Then let’s go. I trust your judgment.”
“Aah.” I try my best to stay aware. But my vision is doubling. The chirp of birds and the shuffling of tree branches fill my ears. Esla’s breathing is regular and hard as she struggles to walk while carrying me. She is a pretty small person, after all, and I am at least five ten. This must be difficult for her. I close my eyes and try not to
vomit. All the shaking is making me dizzy, but I don’t want to tell Esla because she is working hard enough as it is. I have no concept of the amount of time that passes.
“Esla! Markus!” Corbin’s yell comes from the forest up ahead after a seeming eternity. He appears through the bushes, followed by Koen and Mattys. All three of them are breathing heavily, covered in sweat and dirt. “Koen caught sight of you guys along the lakeside five minutes ago. We can lead you to the trail.”
“We only have ten minutes left,” says Esla. “I don’t think I can go fast enough to reach the end with Markus on my back.”
“You guys can go without me,” I say. “I don’t want to be the reason that all of you fail.”
“We’re taking you with us,” says Corbin. “That’s final. We can switch up who carries Markus so that none of us gets too tired to keep going.”
I am ready to cry. I haven’t experienced friendship like this since my assignment as an Adventurer. “Thanks.”
“No problem. We need to hurry if we’re going to make it.” Corbin leans forward. “Give him to me, Esla.”
Esla transfers me to Corbin’s back. It’s painful, and several times blackness threatens to become permanent. But instead I continue to drift in and out of consciousness. At one point I close my eyes while on Corbin’s back and open them on Mattys’ back.
The exit portal appears ahead of us. With a final spurt of effort, we pass through and are dumped onto the floor of the classroom.
Ms. Bossman is standing in front of the exit, her hands crossed. She takes a sport timer and clicks it. “Fifty-nine minutes, twenty seconds. You made it.” She makes a wry expression. “I assume something happened. Write an expedition report and have it turned in by next Wednesday.” She turns to the rest of the class. “Okay! Group two, get ready!”
Corbin grins at me. “We did it!”
Esla was carrying me when we went through the exit portal. Now she puts me down and approaches Ms. Bossman. “Markus is injured. He fell off a bridge and into a river. I think he has several broken bones and a concussion.”
Ms. Bossman raises an eyebrow. “This course is designed to be as benign as possible.” She kneels down beside me and, with an expert touch, finds all my broken points. “Concussion, fractured wrist, broken ankle, two broken ribs. You are lucky that the classroom expedition environment is T-positive.” She pulls out a company phone. “Hello? Yes, this is Jane. Um hm. I have an injured student. Yes, he was injured inside the test dungeon. Um hm. Thanks. He’ll be up there shortly.” She hangs up, looking at my four group members. “I assume you students carried him all the way through the dungeon?” She appears a little bit amused, though I can tell it’s not because she doesn’t care. “I appreciate the teamwork. That’s the kind of stuff that makes being an Adventurer worth it.”
“I’ll carry him up,” says Esla.
Ms. Bossman nods. “Good.” She turns to the class. “Hurry up!” she shouts. “The timer’s going to start if you don’t enter now!”
The next group of five students plunges into the portal.
Ms. Bossman’s lip curls up a bit. She looks at Esla. “Can you handle him?”
“I’ve already carried him at least two miles,” says Esla. “If I couldn’t make it to the healer’s office, I wouldn’t be worth the name of Adventurer.”
“Thanks.” I close my eyes against the bright light.
We take the elevator and, five minutes later, Esla places me on a cot in the infirmary. The healer is a short, blonde woman with a motherly feel to her. She puts her hand on my forehead. A pearl of blue light surrounds me, and all my pain clears up, my thoughts straighten, and a wave of relief flows through my body.
“My, my, you took quite the beating,” says the healer. “I haven’t had to heal this much damage from a classroom in years.”
“It’s all because I’m weak.” I can hear the bitterness in my voice.
She shakes her head gently. “No, honey. You are as strong as you want to be. Every mistake you live through only makes you stronger.”
I sigh, let my head rest against the pillow, and close my eyes. The whole scene floats before me. The crackle, the vertigo, the feeling of falling. I don’t cry, though I am shaken up. Mostly I am just glad my injuries have been healed. The minutes trickle by as I rest.
When I am ready, I open my eyes and get up.
The nurse smiles. “All ready to go now?”
I nod. “Thank you.”
Outside, Esla is leaning against the corridor wall. She walks towards me and slams her hand against the wall, boxing me in. “You’re an idiot, you know?” Her eyes are fierce. “I don’t know what you think you know about your powers or your strength, but it was stupid to go over the bridge first. You’re not useless. You have as much potential as anyone else. You’re not just a sacrifice we can throw away.”
I turn away. “I can’t do anything to help, though.”
“You’re the one who came up with the idea to twist Koen’s bamboo. You’re the reason we were able to cross that ravine.”
I shake my head. “I don’t—”
Esla slams her other hand against the wall, enclosing me there. “You do. Whatever you think of yourself, I think you’re worth having in any party, in any guild. Don’t listen to what those cynical dumbos in charge say. Doing what they expect you to do will only hurt you.” Esla lowers her head. “I don’t know you very well, but I care about you.” She grins, though it is clear she is about to cry. “I saved you once, I saved you twice, and I’m not going to throw away someone I risked my life for.”
I avert my gaze again. “The only reason you guys listened to me is because we’re students. No guild would take advice on how to use their powers from me.”
“Then learn,” says Esla. “Get a degree. Get something. If you think convincing people to listen to you means putting some fancy letters after your name, then do it. Once people start listening to you, then you’ll understand how much you’re worth.”
I nod. “Okay.” Only then do I notice that she is breathing hard and sweating.
“Do you get it?” Esla wipes her forehead.
“I get it.” I pause. “Now, can you get off me?” I smile a bit.
Esla chuckles and pulls away. “Don’t tell anyone I got emotional. I have a reputation to uphold.” She turns away, holding up her hand. “Ms. Bossman says you’re free to go for today. Come to class as usual tomorrow.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.” Even though I’m not feeling up to it, I turn around and head towards Dr. Barrimore’s office.
9 If you Have the Wherewithal
“So, I heard you had your first practical exam.” Dr. Barrimore sits in his lab staring into a microscope.
I nod, donning my lab coat and safety gear. “I got injured. I almost made everyone else in my group fail.”
“Hm,” says Dr. Barrimore. “You succeeded, though.”
“Only because everyone else acted like good teammates.”
Dr. Barrimore adjusts his microscope. “That’s the best we can hope for, though, right?”
I sigh and sit down next to him. “I suppose so.”
“Electic acid, ten mil,” says Dr. Barrimore.
I prepare a suspension of Electic acid and hand it to him. He takes it without moving more than his arm. I catch him look in my direction for a split second. “Hrm.” He takes a pipette and draws out a small amount of the Electic acid. With a careful touch, he drops about half a milliliter onto the slide he is looking at.
“Yes, yes.” He makes a note. “Just as I expected.”
I wait for him to explain what he is doing, if he wants to. He doesn’t. So I wait for another order. Dr. Barrimore spends an inordinate amount of time dropping various liquids onto the microscope slide. I have nothing to do except twiddle my thumbs.
Finally Dr. Barrimore takes several beakers and pours a concoction into a potion bottle. It changes from green to blue, then red. He looks at it against the light. His smile is broad,
and I get a weird feeling. “Are you ready to do a little bit of off-the-record experimentation?” he asks.
“Erm, okay? As long as it doesn’t kill me or make me sick.”
“Tell no one about this.” Dr. Barrimore hands me the bottle. “Drink it.” His smile changes. “Only if you want to, though. Do you want to help an old man make a difference?”
I nod. I’m not sure what he means by his statement, but I’ve been working with him long enough to know that he is exceptionally careful and thoughtful. He wouldn’t give me anything that had even a remote chance of hurting me.
I drink the potion. It tastes a little like orange juice and a lot like medicine. When it is gone, I hand the empty container to Dr. Barrimore.
Nothing happens.
“How long does it take to have an effect?”
Dr. Barrimore nods once. “It already has. However, you won’t see the results until several conditions are met.”
“Okay. What are they?”
“One.” Dr. Barrimore holds up a finger. “You are in mortal danger.”
“Well, that’s—”
“I’m not done yet.” He holds up two fingers. “Two. You have to be in the presence of a strong psionic energy, such as from a powerful monster.”
Confused, I wait.
“Third. You must be prepared to have everything about your existence changed.”
“Okay, I guess. I don’t really get what all those conditions are for, though. Can’t the potion just take effect?”
“There are a lot of scientific reasons for these three conditions,” says Dr. Barrimore. “Would you like to hear them?”
“Do the best you can to explain it in words a high schooler can understand.”
“Well, psions are the manifestation of Anima. You’ll learn this in Spirit Anatomy.” He holds up a hand. “Before you ask, yes, that is the same Anima as your spirit. Having an Anima spirit is like if your spirit is plain yogurt or vanilla ice cream. A pure manifestation of psionic power that has no lens through which to distort itself. Thus, it is discounted.” Dr. Barrimore puts down his hand. “Anima has a mind of its own. The weave, or the distribution of Anima throughout reality, is hypersensitive to thoughts and emotions. It could be called the crystallization of intent. Thus, in order to create a large disruption in the Anima weave, a strong emotion needs to be present. This can be any emotion, good or evil. This is the origin of the first condition.”