-Tap-Tap-Thunk-
Zephyr was standing before a whiteboard, tapping his marker and, occasionally, his forehead up against it. A feeling of frustration bubbled up inside as he looked at the board again.
#
- Somehow, get in on the ground floor of this new change.
-Try calling research colleges
-Figure out on own
- ???
- Find new job -- somehow make it connected to running
2.1 figure out how to get money from running.
-Gig Delivery job? -To far apart and sporadic, will not be able to run fast enough
-sponsor?
#
-Thunk-Thunk-Thunk-
Zephyr banged his head more on the board, “Now, how do I actually get a sponsor?”
He looked down at himself, taking in his rotund form. Would anyone sponsor me for running?
Google had been no help. The only things that popped up were things like dog runner, running concierge—which seemed made up—and other things that sounded only running adjacent like a coach or racing director, which again felt made up.
It had been a month since Zephyr had become a test subject, and his skill quickly reached level six. Once he got his feet under him, Zephyr found Tim had been right. He could run, not jog, not fast walk; he could run for a straight thirty minutes without stopping, and he was already at an eight-minute mile run. This was terrific for a normal person, let alone someone overweight.
Tim and his team were still trying to determine if Zephyr was leveling at an expected rate. They didn’t know he was already the highest skill leveled person in the study, but when he hit level five, he’d slowed down by a lot; in fact, Zephyr barely reached level six. It was only thanks to the extra boost from his weekly quests; it was like he was already at the pinnacle of his current experiences.
Despite all his accomplishments, he was running into a real issue. Zephyr was still nowhere near finding a new job. He’d thought people might have been more sympathetic about it being this awakening day. He was distraught, but it didn’t seem to matter.
Zephyr had been able to stay afloat thanks to the pay from the tests and a few gig jobs. In the meantime, he was focusing everything on advancing, and Tim had given him a bit of homework. Homework he had barely started; he was given a list of videos and books on everything about running, from breathing patterns to other techniques. Even books on the biology of running, diets for marathoners, and even a few running magazines. In order to get his mind off everything, he dove into the books.
And found he could barely concentrate despite how interesting it was. He couldn't focus for more than a few paragraphs before his mind wandered back to the whiteboard. And eventually, he gave up.
“I need to get out of here.”
#
Not twenty minutes later, Zephyr found himself at his local park decked out for a run. Loose t-shirt, a new set of running shorts he was deeply regretting, and a nice pair of running shoes he was not. His pale legs felt wrong, unused to the feeling of air or sun. Despite that, he still felt good about getting out.
At that moment, something about the world around him felt right, except for the shorts. Why did I put the shorts on?
It was the perfect thing to get his mind off of job hunting. Instead of getting in his head about it, he put a pair of headphones in and started to jog down the trail. An audiobook kept him company. Music had been his first choice but found books really kept his focus, and he wasn’t bored running the same route over and over.
Today, he was just running to not think, so with one foot in front of the other, Zephyr made his way around the trail, stopping halfway nearly two miles from the start, stopping at a ‘You Are Here’ Signpost that showed all the trails. two miles, and I’m barely winded.
he reveled in how little it affected him when, just a month before, he would have been heaving on the ground. Now, he was just breathing heavily. And a month before that he would be breathing just as bad walking the trail. Checking his phone he smirked, seventeen minutes. What will I be after a year?
It was a long way away, yet so close; they were barely scratching the surface of everything, and new discoveries were happening daily. I wonder if it will be called the Age of Discovery. Now I just need a damn job. “Grah!” he yelled in frustration. He had just gotten his mind off being unemployed.
Feeling reckless, Zephyr took one last look at the sign. Seeing the one that would add five miles to his run, Without a second to think, he took off, pushing himself beyond what he’d ever run before. His feet barely even touched the ground before he pushed off again.
-Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-
Despite the beautiful words and lovely prose playing in his ears, Zephyr did not hear a word, with his entire mind focused on running, fighting hard to take in air and not trip over his feet. Or run into another parkgoer.
-Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-
His legs moved faster, his stride widening, and the world began to disappear. Before awakening, Zephyr never knew running could be like this; he felt like he was flying across the ground.
-Clack-clack-thump-bump-clack-clack-thump-bump-clack-
His body heated up as his heart drummed in his ears. Something he should be concerned about. Something that should indicate that maybe he should slow down. Yet he could only smile as he pushed even harder a smile blazing across his face.
-Clack-clack-thump-bump-wheeze-chuff-clack-clack-thump-bump-wheeze-chuff-clack-clack-
His lungs burned, his mouth dripping saliva, and his muscles grew tight, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care as he wheezed and kept going as blackness slowly crept at the edge of his vision. The limit, it was the first time he ever touched it, maybe he was edging past it. Even with all the warning signs, he kept creeping forward as he learned just how far he could go.
-Clack-clack-thump-bump-wheeze-chuff-clack-clack-thump-bump-wheeze-chuff-clack-clack-Crash-
A misstep, and he found himself falling into the grass off the side of the trail. Fighting to breathe. Everything felt like it was burning, and he could barely get enough air. Now that he wasn’t running, he could feel the difference in how he breathed. Despite feeling like death, he couldn’t stop grinning. Slowly the blackness receded, and he could make out his audiobook.
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“The girl fought, and every time she turned around, another Worker, another friend, was dying.”
A face appeared in front of him. It took him a minute to focus when he heard what she was saying. “Are you Ok?”
It took a minute for Zephyr to remember he was in a park, a place with other people. An attractive older woman with gray hair, crow’s feet, and great shape stared down at him. He caught himself taking in her form-fitting workout clothes.
The woman was talking, but he could barely hear her over the blood rushing to his ears and his headphones. “Eight Workers came with her. The rest lay silent— ” Zephyr paused the book, realizing he had missed a lot. I’ll go back later.
Realizing he already forgot what she asked, “Oh, Sorry. What was that?” he said, pointing to his earbuds.
“Are you ok? You were running like a bat out of hell. Thought something might be chasing you.”
“Yeah, I'm fine.” He replied, forcing himself to stand, only wobbling slightly, “Just testing myself. You know, since the change.”
“Well damn, you moved pretty fast.”
“Thanks?”
“Hahaha,” The woman laughed. “You trying to level your ability then?”
“Ability?” Zephyr’s mind was still oxygen-deprived, so it took him a second, “Oh! I mean, maybe? Might also be trying to get my mind off job hunting.” He said sheepishly. Why am I telling her this?
“Yeesh, bad awakening?” Zephyr nodded as she reached out to steady him. “Had a friend have the same issue, has been having a hell of a time finding work.”
“Don’t I know it?” Tired, exhausted, and now starting to feel awkward, as he didn’t know how to get out of the conversation.
The woman turned thoughtful, “You know. You could always lean into the change. That’s what some others and I are doing. There’s no money yet, but if it works out. It will be amazing. So we’re excited just to give it a try.”
Zephyr only shook his head, “What would I even do?”
The woman shrugged, “Well, whatever you end up doing, good luck.” She said before waving as she jogged off. Zephyr’s eyes followed her as she left. As he did, he noticed a man on a bike with a bunch of large bags hanging on the back. ‘Express Courier’ on the bags.
“Huh?” He got an idea. Before pulling up his phone and Googling it to ensure it was feasible. “Maybe…”
#
“Thanks for this meeting on such a short notice,” Zephyr said nervously.
Not even two hours after Googleing his idea, Zephyr stood in front of a potential investor feeling way out of his depth. What am I even doing? He was smiling but felt incredibly ridiculous.
Zephyr had taken that random woman’s advice and possibly leaned too hard into the change. He was wearing a Renaissance festival outfit he had gotten last year. A thankfully breathable, loose-fitting gray outfit with an oversized poncho and a gray messenger boy's hat, a pair of loose trousers with ties around his calves, and a nice pair of modern sneakers. Zephyr had a nice set of boots that matched but would have been hell to run in, so he made a little compromise with himself. Not to mention the handcrafted canvas messenger bag. All that he would not tell anyone exactly how much he paid for them.
Despite how sharp he knew he looked, his confidence in his plan fell with every step into the office building.
The man sitting behind the desk, Killian Eduard, was smiling as he took Zephyr in. “I’ve been looking for something new since awakening. And I tend to strike while the iron’s hot. And it’s not every day I get a call like this. Let’s just say I was very intrigued.”
Killian had been the only one. It hadn’t helped that Zephyr stumbled over himself over the phone with practically all of the people he called. Nor was he really able to answer basic questions. Hell, he was shocked he was still there but was doing his best to project an air of confidence.
“So the idea—leaning on your firm for the start—is to create an in-house courier service. With how many cases your firm does a day, we could easily get our name out to your clients and other firms around the inner city.”
“Inner City? Why just there? We have plenty of clients from other cities and counties.”
“Prestige!” He said excitedly.
“Not following.”
“As you can see what I’m wearing, we lean into the change hard. We mix in a bunch of magical-sounding names. Instead of cars, we run around the city in outfits like mine. We require a quest crystal for each delivery, people see us trailing them. They wonder what that is. As we go on, more and more people will get curious.”
Killian stared, looking thoughtful, as the silence dragged on.
Feeling he was losing Killian, Zephyr continued, “We make it a more prestigious, magical, mysterious thing. Delivery by hand right to the client, while —for example— I run the entire distance, floating quests crystals floating behind me twinkling, catching every eye as I pass. I run into an office magic floating behind me. The package is delivered, and a crystal floating behind me begins to glow. Then off I go back into the ether. Everyone gets a story. Some wonder if what they saw was even real.”
Killian smiled, leaning back in his chair, “And what do you need me for?”
“Contacts, ideas, overall a partner. There wouldn’t be much upfront cost. Maybe a day or two of making calls. We could even do a trial basis.” Wow, my pitch is terrible.
Zephyr was one hundred percent certain Killian would reject him. “Hmmm.” Zephyr was already planning his next pitch when he got rejected. “You know what. I’m in, and no, we are going to go all in on this.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Killian stood holding his hand out as Zephyr shook it disbelievingly.
“Great!”
“I bet you’re wondering why I agreed after that terrible pitch.”
Zephyr winced, “Crossed my mind.”
“See, I recently learned a lot about myself. I was always paranoid and a skinflint, yet what did I do with that money? Become more paranoid that someone would take it away when I saw that I didn’t like it and needed to change. Now, I have a lot more free time, and this is so outside my normal wheelhouse. I think it would be fun.”
“I bet it will!”
“Now.” Killian was walking around Zephyr, hand on chin, looking him up and down. “If we’re leaning into this, let’s go a bit further.”
“Further?”
“Off the top of my head. We give the couriers names of divine messengers Gabriel, Micheal, Hermes, mercury, and Ratatoskr. Hmm, maybe not the angel names; might ruffle some feathers.”
He was familiar with all but one “Ratatoskr?”
“Norse messenger squirrel sends insults up and down Yggdrasil. That would be perfect for you.” Zephyr looked at himself, wondering how he looked like a squirrel. “It's little known and just vague enough to get people curious. Not to mention, the name sounds exotic. People with money love that shit.”
Feeling like he had completely lost control, Zephyr could only listen, uncertain but excited as Killian continued.
“And we can call it— Wait, do you already have a name?”
Zephyr shook his head.
“Good then, how about. Divine Messengers Courier service. No, too long, Divine Couriers? Mythic Messengers? Yes, that. We’ll need to get you something to state that”, he looks down at the messenger bag. Zephyr, feeling concerned, said, “Ah, yes, that could work. I’ll have to get you to my tailor.”
Over the next couple of hours, the two had shaken out the idea. Writing up paperwork and setting up subsidiary accounts for the business. Everything Zephyr wouldn’t have even thought of or had looked into at all. It shocked him how much paperwork there was.
They’d settled on a fifty-fifty partnership; Zephyr would take the name Ratatoskr on deliveries. They’d be called Mythic Messengers, and Killian would handle hiring other runners. It was all happening so fast that Zephyr’s head was spinning by the end of it all. When he asked.
“Whats next?”
#
On a screen somewhere, a commercial begins. Zephyr is standing awkwardly in his gray courier outfit, looking straight at the camera.
“Has this ever happened to you?” He yelled, his voice stilted and monotone.
The camera cuts to Killian holding a giant, oversized manila envelope overflowing with papers, with fake concern all over his face. “Oh no! These last-minute documents need to be downtown now!” Killian was hamming it up hard. “And I can’t get there in time. What Ever can I do?”
—Boom—
An obvious fake green screen explosion appeared on-screen, revealing Zephyr posing uncomfortably. A short pause before he speaks, “Ne-Never Fear! Let Mythic Deliveries take care of that for you!”
It cuts to a little old lady holding an accordion folder in front of an apartment building. “What about my very important documents?”
The camera cuts back to Zephyr, giving a big thumbs up, and smiling, “I can deliver!”
Shows a kid wearing a backpack shyly holding up a note. “This ‘Do you like me’ note?”
Shows Zephyr jumping in excitement, “Of Course!”
The camera cuts to an annoyed teen girl, “This note checked, no?”
Zephyr winces, “Ouch, but yes!”
Cuts to a construction worker: “What about my blueprints?”
“Sure!”
Cuts to a farmer standing in front of a pumpkin taller than himself. “What about my pumpkin to the state fair?”
Zephyr scratches the back of his head, “Might be a bit too heavy for me.”
Cuts back to an annoyed farmer, “Then what about my paperwork for the courthouse?”
“Weird, that was your second choice, but sure! With only minimal judgment.” Zephyr gets low into a sprinter pose, squirrel ears and a tail photo-shopped on him, as a number to call appears at the bottom of the screen, “Call and get your package delivered today by our highly skilled messengers!”
A voice comes from off camera, “Times and estimations may be subject to change.”
* * *