Of Long Walks and Late Arrivals

John had always thought that the walk to the bus was too long. He didn’t mind being outside on a nice day (at least for a little while), but the combination of physical activity and not being at his computer was more than enough for him to generally write it off. Today, though, it seemed to be rolling by far too quickly. At the very least, the last vestiges of winter in the air kept the temperature pleasantly mild.

’I suppose this is the first time I’ve had magic powers to play with on the way there, to be fair,' John thought, casting [Observe] on another passerby as he hurried to the bus stop.

Nobody had yet been part of a guild, nor had anyone besides him or his mother had a title. The relationship upgrade for his [Observe] listed most everyone he’d passed as being entirely neutral towards him.

“I really am a nobody, eh?” He halfheartedly chuckled to himself.

The Gamer did take note that, based on the levels presented on their name plates and in [Observe] windows, most adults were around his mother’s level, but his own level was comparable to those much younger than him.

’And I’m a wimp too, aren’t I… not like I needed magic to tell me that,’ John lamented, peering at his own character sheet before closing all the windows. ’I guess I should make sure I still have some mana once I’m on the bus.’

He sighed, “The bus…”

John’s brisk pace slowed as he approached the stop for his school bus, and his faltering mood began to sour. The bus to Ashcroft Academy was the first guaranteed encounter with his years-long tormentors, Frank Dickinson Jr. and Vanessa Hawthorne; even the miraculous advent of actual magic into his life wasn’t quite enough to offset the bitter feeling they gave him.

Glancing down to the street corner from his bus stop, The Gamer caught the distinctive yellow of the bus as it rounded the corner. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and took another deep breath. As the bus approached, John made sure to tighten the clasps holding his bag together and steeled himself for his usual morning encounter. He hated mornings, Mondays most of all.

The bus rolled up, and John waited for the inevitable hiss of the doors opening before taking his first step on. He looked up, expecting to nod at the bus driver, only to be met with a wall of meat.

“Wha- oof!” John gasped, a foot crushing the air from his lungs.

-8 hp

The Gamer folded easily, tumbling backwards out of the bus and onto the concrete of the sidewalk below. He was thankful that his bag was empty today, else he would have landed painfully on his books.

-5 hp

John looked up into the clouds as the damage numbers floated away before turning his attention to the sneering faces of his bullies. His chest throbbed in soreness, as did the back of his head.

’What the hell?’ he thought.

“Get lost, nerd, no more space on the bus today!” came the gravelly voice of his assailant, a square of a human who looked as much like a thumb as he did a person, Frank Dickinson Jr.

Ashcroft’s quarterback was jacked to a point that John honestly suspected steroid use, but it wouldn’t really change much about the disparity in their strength if John was to be honest with himself. He was every bit the all-American chud stereotype. Behind him stood a matching blonde bimbo, Vanessa Hawethorne, smirking down at him from over her phone.

As The Gamer picked himself up, his aggressor crossed his arms and spit on the concrete between them. John imagined that he might stand up, stare Frank down, and say some quippy line before pushing past him, but, in reality, he could do little more than shrink down from his years-long bully.

“You heard me, loser, no wimps on the bus!” the bully shouted.

John winced at the shouting and stepped back, eliciting a cruel laugh from the woman standing behind Frank. Vanessa had been John’s tormentor for even longer than Frank had, though she never deigned to dirty her hands with physical altercations. She was an admittedly hot woman, but one whose rotten personality reeked through her dolled-up exterior.

The blonde’s body was undoubtedly at model level, with curves that made most other girls at school jealous, but something in her eyes had always made her tremendously unattractive to John. They were cold and cruel, as though there was barely any humanity behind them. He wasn’t really sure she could care for anyone, besides herself of course. If she wasn’t caked in so much makeup, John was sure he’d have been able to see lines on her face from the perpetual scowl she wore.

Backing away from the bus door entirely, John tried to look past them to see who was driving the bus, but he couldn’t tell.

’Surely there must be something illegal with this, right?’ he wondered, looking at the mostly empty bus windows, ’Doesn’t look like many people got on the bus at all besides the cheerleaders and the football team.’

’Not like they get in trouble for this stuff anyway… whatever’

Sighing, John shrugged and gave up, throwing an [Observe] cast on each of the bullies and turning away. Satisfied in John’s capitulation, Frank smirked as the doors closed with a hiss. The bus sped away, and John resigned himself to the long walk to school.

’At least I’ve got more time to myself, I guess,’ The Gamer thought, starting to make his way down the street. ’Gonna end up late.’

Rounding the corner out of his suburb, John looked over his [Observe] results, cringing at the information he found within.

’”Extremely?” Wasn’t that the same modifier that Mom had, but in the opposite direction? Seriously? What the hell did I ever do to her? She must be crazy,‘ he thought, continuing his walk into the city. ’At least her title seems right. It’s pretty depressing to think that this kind of person can get to be popular…’

Closing the window to attempt to put its target out of his thoughts, John moved on to the other result he’d gotten.

John rolled his eyes at this one.

’”King of the Meatheads” is right. Dude’s got the same IQ as a refrigerator. Same relationship disposition as Vanessa as well. What in the world did I do?‘

Of course, The Gamer’s bully was nearly twice his level, and, if he had to warrant a guess, all his stat points were in SMASH and HIT. A nearly impossible matchup as he currently stood, not that he’d needed a reminder of such a thing.
John took a deep breath and closed the window, pulling out a set of earbuds and turning on music as he set off to try and make it to school at a reasonable time.

“This is what I get for saying the walk wasn’t so bad.”

About twenty minutes later, John had crossed the bridge on his way to school. Really, he didn’t think the walk to school was that bad, all things considered. Aside from the bullying, of course, his morning as a whole was still going pretty well - better than one had in a very long time. He hadn’t done much on his walk besides throw around the occasional [Observe], listen to music, and just think about the morning.

The Gamer had started mentally trying to calculate average level ranges, hoping to figure out where exactly he stood in the grand scheme of things. Judging by what he’d put together, it seemed like most people his age were around level 4-5, with a few like him lagging behind, and most adults were 6, with a few notably at 7.

John was weak, but, if his estimates were correct, he figured some nice quests and achievements might actually get him to normalcy fairly quickly, which was a pleasant thought.

By the time John had begun to put all of those things together, he was pretty close to getting another level of [Observe], which he hoped would do something cool. His breakfast buffs had fallen off, though, and he wasn’t hungry enough to start chowing down on his spare food just for mana quite yet.

’And my health has finished regenerating,’ John thought, crossing another intersection.

As he started to drift off into thought again, something caught his eye. At a gas station across the street, a young woman was filling up her car while she spoke on the phone.

Normally, a cute girl alone would have been enough to distract him, but she was also wearing the same distinctive red jacket as John, identifying her as an Ashcroft student. It was a little hard to make out, but she was clearly quite busty, as her jacket didn’t seem to close properly. Long, blonde hair, with a single streak of pink, ran down her back.

She wasn’t anyone that he recognized though, which was a little strange, as someone with curves like hers certainly would have been a subject of his distant perversions. As he continued ogling her, The Gamer realized something was off. She didn’t have a nameplate above her head.

’That’s odd… everyone’s had a nameplate. What’s up with that?’ John pondered, focusing on her to cast an [Observe]. He winced as he felt a pressure behind his eyes.

’Wait… what? Locked? Why? Level 8? Why is she at a higher level?’ he thought, blinking and shaking his head.

Dozens of thoughts ran through John’s head. A new window saved John from his frustration though, but the can of worms that it opened left him wondering far more than he had before.

’Oh… I mean, I guess I hadn’t thought about it, but it makes sense I wouldn’t be the only one… So, she also has magic…’ John thought, mulling over the implications of his discovery. ’I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen real magic, have I?’

John pictured the likes of Harry Houdini and Chris Angel and wondered if maybe those kinds of people really were magic. Shaking off what was probably a ridiculous leap in logic, John tapped to clear the achievement window, and eagerly accepted his second quest.

’So this isn’t a one-off thing either… There are a few people who have something secret going on. How the heck do I find them though? Do I just go around asking everyone, ‘Hey, you happen to have magic powers?’’ John mused, processing his new quest. ’No, that would be stupid. If there aren’t people running around with magic ruling the world, then they probably don’t want to get found that easily…’

’How am I supposed to find anyone else then?’

John sighed, scratching the back of his neck, and noticed that [Observe] had leveled up.

’Oh, cool. We can try again!’ John thought, looking up.

As he looked around momentarily, the smile dropped from his face as he realized that the blonde he’d been watching was gone, as was her car.

’Wait, when did she leave?’ John wondered, once more confused. ’I could have sworn I never heard her drive by. Dang it!’

With his distraction removed, The Gamer realized that he needed to get going if he ever intended on making it to school. So, he once more prepared to lose himself in music and thought as he set out.

’Man, I’m gonna be really late.‘

Due to his mid-morning distraction, John’s arrival at Ashcroft was even later than he’d initially feared, taking almost an hour. As he was checking in at the front desk, the bell for second period had rung - he’d missed Biology entirely. The only luck he’d had was that the front office was already aware of Frank and Vanessa’s bus arriving missing many students, so John had been able to get an excused tardiness note.

The Gamer now found himself rushing to class, cursing his crippling Endurance as his breath began to burn in his lungs. He didn’t want to miss any more time than he had to, especially since he was likely going to need time to [Observe] everyone in his class to try and find any of his quest targets.

The Gamer jumped up the stairs two at a time on the way towards Ashcroft’s chem lab, hoping that someone in Mr. Simmons’ class would notice him and unlock the door. When he’d finally reached his classroom’s hallway, he allowed himself a moment to recover, mentally preparing his reasons for lateness.

“Ahem!” came a cool, yet stern voice from behind him. “Late for class?”

John choked on the air he was breathing, badly startled by the sudden and aggressive inquiry. Gasping, he spun.

The woman facing him down might have been slightly shorter than him, but her presence dwarfed his. Her hair was a fiery red and her eyes were a stunning green; they were cold, but not in a cruel way, as Vanessa’s had been, rather, they were collected and disciplined. He imagined military generals from his video games would have a similar gaze.

Her curves were very generous, filling out her uniform in a wonderful way. Her breasts were impressive - large, yet proportional - and she had the incredible backside to match. John mustered all his willpower to keep his eyes level and not shy away.

Meeting the gaze of his accuser, John gulped and shrunk down. The Gamer had yet to meet anyone else who could exude such a commanding presence. In front of him was not just any hall monitor, but the President of the Student Council, Moira Brighton.

’When did she get here?’ he thought, trying to hold his ground. ’How did I not notice her before?’

She cleared her throat and John snapped back to attention.

“Well? You were hurrying somewhere. To class, I presume?” she cooly inquired. To John, it felt like a statement - a command even. If he’d been going anywhere else, he certainly wasn’t now.

John tried to muster his words in response.

“Uh… Yeah. Um, I’m in Chemistry just down the hall. I, uh, have a note from the office...” he stuttered out, offering the paper to her. “Something, um, happened with the bus this morning.”

Somehow he felt as though he was less convinced of his own truth just trying to talk to her. She scared him. The imposing redhead took the note from his hands and inspected it carefully, checking the signature.

It looked to John as if she was about to disintegrate it with heat vision.

The Council President narrowed her eyes, but eventually relented.

“Proceed. You have most of class remaining,” she stated, returning his note.

The nervous nerd quickly stammered out his acknowledgement and reached out, clutching the note in a vice grip. It could protect him.

He turned to walk to his class, putting a little more energy into it than was necessary. As John reached the door and knocked, he looked back. Moira was still eyeing him, no doubt making sure that he was really going to class. As someone from within approached the door to let him in, John realized that there was something key he’d missed about Moira at first - she had no nameplate either.

’No way…’ The Gamer thought, casting [Observe] as he slipped into the classroom.

The lab was a comfortable space for John. Classrooms were generally safe spaces from bullying, offering him a brief reprieve from the suffering of the day. The cool, crisp air of the lab helped him try and calm down after his encounter. John’s breathing finally evened out as the cleanliness and organization of the room helped him refocus.

’Maybe a touch of normalcy is what I need right now.’

He walked to the front of the room and presented Mr. Simmons with the same note and explanation as he had Moira, though it wasn’t nearly as stressful to talk to the older man. The man had accepted the explanation with little fuss, as a couple of his other students were missing as well. The teacher nodded John towards the safety equipment and let him go use what time he had left on the labs he’d started before break.

John walked briskly over to the corner of the room where the lab coats and other kinds of safety equipment were stored. As he donned the safety gear, John took the time to check out the results of his [Observe], noticing a second window just behind it.

’So, we have a live one,’ John surmised from the results. ’First guild I’ve seen, and a title. This one’s pretty impressive, too... “Warden?” What does that mean? Like a Grey Warden?’

A second later, his brain processed a key bit of information, and he did a double take on the level. As realization dawned on him, he thought, ’That says seventeen, not seven… That’s… OK. That’s a high number.’

John didn’t know how many stat points one level equated to quite yet, but considering that Frank was entirely his physical superior by a dominant margin at a two level gap, he did not want to imagine how powerful Moira had to be. His legs were trembling. He staggered back a couple steps. The second window confirmed his suspicions.

’Wait. How small? Do people get stronger than her? How many stats is that even?’ he pondered, putting on his coat. John quickly confirmed that, yes, Moira did indeed count towards his quest, which was the only thing that made sense based on what else he’d seen so far.

As John dismissed the window and took a seat at a lab bench, he tried to mentally recalibrate his scale of strength. Frank was 5, his mother 6, and Moira now 17, but he didn’t have complete context for those data points. His thoughts quickly scattered again, trying to parse all the new information he had.

’My range before was, what, up to 6 or 7 for most normal people… I guess I have kinda soft confirmation that magic is on a whole other level, based on that other girl being level 8, but the council president is over three times Frank’s level? Have I always been living among people like this?’

’Is there a cap here? How high do levels go? Do other people see levels? Or is that just me? Is she just some magic user or is she a Lovecraftian horror trapped inside a hot redhead?’

After a minute of shock, John decided to try and actually be a functional human for a bit, shelving the litany of questions about what anything to do with some “Golden Rose” actually meant. He headed to the front to get his lab kit.

He wasn’t doing anything fancy, just some quick testing on common properties across families in the periodic table; it was a simple lab that John should have been able to relax in. He was set to test how different chemicals remove rust and corrosion from various metals.

As he finished setting up the materials, John took out his lab book and got to work, trying to stay focused and get his work done as much as possible. The Gamer hoped that if he could get done quickly, he could save himself from having to use any of his Study Hour on work instead of figuring out his quest.

“Ugh,” John murmured, carefully dripping more acid onto the rusty metal on his workbench.

He set his tools aside and wiped off the thin film of iron with a work cloth, only to find more tarnish and rust beneath it.

’Dang it, man. What the heck am I doing wrong?’ he wondered, ’Am I using the wrong solution? This shouldn’t be that hard…’

The Gamer frustratedly flipped through his lab book, trying to understand where he’d gone wrong in his mixing of chemicals.

’Shouldn’t I just be able to wave my hand or something and do this with magic, anyway?’ he thought, before his counting of measurements was interrupted by a message.

Should you? What do you know about magic?

John paused for a second, his train of thought annihilated.

’I suppose that’s fair. I don’t really know how it works... Could I do it with magic?’

John blinked twice.

’Alchemy! Now that sounds like proper magic! Well, at least it sounds like the start of something. That would be nice,’ The Gamer thought, spacing out as the bell rang. ’Thirty-three percent… what do I have and what else could it need?’

Checking through his belongings as he packed up and took off his safety gear, John discovered that his lab book now had a small exclamation point above it, marking it as a quest item. The Gamer left the room behind, stepping into the warm air of the hall.

’The obvious guesses would be other science resources - the textbook maybe? The book I have is just for lab practical, so it probably doesn’t have all the info. I should take a trip to the library. Easier to test than guess in a vacuum.’

John checked his phone for the time in the hall. He had about half an hour in the morning break before History.

“Yeah, I got time,” John mumbled under his breath.