Year 0 Month 3 Week 3

  —Swish-Crunch-Crunch-Swish—

  —Snap—

  “Fuck!” A branch whipped Zephyr in the face for the thirty-sixth time —he counted— while attempting to run through the woods. His entire run, he felt like he’d been constantly tripping over what felt like every branch, root, and divot he could and couldn’t see. Zephyr had been running on a bit of a high after evolving his skill. Which that had led him to Google a map to Tim’s place, which lead to him learning it was almost a straight line from his place to the new place—only a quick five mile run through through a couple neighborhoods, and a lovely scenic ten mile run through the woods— that led him to his current treacherous run.

  When he’d been looking at his computer, it had seemed so simple and perfect. He’d get some running practice and get to Tim’s warehouse —AKA the Academy, just the Academy, not Magic Academy, not Tim’s Academy, Just Academy. Zephyr was shocked he hadn't tried Mages College, Institute For Magical Research, or something similar— in almost the same amount of time it took to drive there. The roads are convoluted, so running might actually be faster. Or at least that had been Zephyr’s thoughts. It never actually occurred to him what it would be like to run through the dense, untamed brush.

  —Stomp-Crush—

  Another bush was destroyed underfoot, and he had lost count of how much foliage he’d been forced to crush, stomp, or tear through to make any progress. I have to be close now. He pulled out his phone to check the remaining distance, finding he’d only made it two miles in the last hour. How is this faster!?

  Today was a day of lessons in hubris, and Zephyr hated it. Though he must admit it was nice moving through the empty woods alone. At least for the first hour or two. Then, he got hit in the face a few times and nearly broke his ankle.

  Step crunch, jog, trip, walk trip, slip run, check phone, correct course, all on repeat for hours. Zephyr was getting a hard lesson on how to run through a wooded area.

  Wait, what is that? Taking a closer look at the map, he zoomed in to find something strange along his path. Switching to satellite mode, he got a clear picture of an opening in the trees at the midpoint of his journey. He let out a sigh as he realized. Just a small creek?

  #

  —Crunch-click-clack-schloop—

  “That’s not a creek.” It was a chasm. For some incalculable reason, it had never occurred to Zephyr that it would need to be pretty large for something to show up on a satellite image. He expected a small creek —one he’d thought might be nice to dip his toes in and relax by the water after three hours of fighting through the woods. It would have been a nice little break he had been looking forward to. Now.

  Now, he got none of that, not even a nice little flow of water. All he got was a ditch, or more likely a spillway for when it rained hard, and what looked and smelled like mud. He guessed Twenty feet down, twenty feet wide down a sheer cliff. With small vegetation and a few sporadic roots, he might be able to use it to climb out if he fell in. Something he did not want, especially with the rocks randomly scattered.

  It wasn’t an insurmountable climb but it would be a pain in the ass, and he doubted he could do it without falling in the mud. Zephyr did not want to make the rest of the journey covered in mud.

  At about this point, he had the most dangerous thoughts a person can have when facing a large gap—one born of a little bit of ego, thrill, and a dash of desire. I can jump that.

  Zephyr stood there at the edge for almost ten minutes, eying the distance, guesstimating how fast he’d have to run. Backing up, running up and stopping each time telling himself it wasn’t fast enough. It had nothing to do with his heart beating out of his chest or the immense feeling of dread shooting through him every time he got right next to the edge.

  Let’s practice. He found a spot next to the chasm and measured out what he thought would be the right distance.

  -Swish-crunch-crunch-swish-

  Zephyr was airborne, flying over the little practice chasm, and his feet landed a good two feet past the line.

  “Maybe I really can jump it.” After a single attempt, he was feeling good about his bad decision. His head turned back towards the chasm and his practice jump.

  “Fuck it.” Two words that have led to more disasters and bad decisions, only bested by the ever more dangerous phrase: “Hold my Beer.” Much more dangerous than the “Double Dog Dare.” But not as dangerous as “I got this.”

  Zephyr backed up, staring straight at his hopeful landing point. Refusing to acknowledge the chasm itself. “It’s just jumping from one spot to the next,” he told himself. Right before he pushed off, using everything he'd ever learned running. His feet moved almost supernaturally, and every foot placement was perfect for gaining traction. His legs, hips, and back were bent to the perfect angle. Not too far and not too shallow, allowing him to move faster and longer. He adjusted his upper half to account for the uneven ground, increasing speed with every step. Then he was at the edge. He let both legs go deeper into the step as he jumped for all he was worth.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  As he was sailing in the air, over the chasm, Zephyr had only one thought, and he vocalized it loudly, “Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

  To Zephyr’s dismay, those previous two words lived up to their reputation. As he learned, the chasm was a good distance longer than his practice jump, and he would not make it.

  “OOph.” His chest hit the wall of the chasm, knocking the wind out of him. He didn’t even have a second to think and scramble before everything went black. An unknown amount of time later, he found himself dangling upside down, tangled in roots, gasping for air.

  “Wow, that was stupid.”

  #

  —Crack-Snap-Crunch-Squish—

  —Groan—

  “Finally.” Zephyr practically fell out of the woods. Bedraggled, wet, and covered in mud.

  —Squish-Squish—

  Zephyr was so tired of hearing that noise. Now that he was beyond the woods, he scrambled to remove his shoes. Tossing them to the side before struggling to get his wet socks off. Finally, “So much better.” His feet were gross and wrinkled. Zephyr lay back, his feet finally free and drying, regretting everything.

  His entire journey had been a mess before the ditch, and after it was a wet, dirty catastrophe. The roots that had held him when he fell snapped, and he promptly found himself in rather soft, deep mud. Then, he made another horrible discovery when he felt a hundred sharp, tiny legs pass over him. Instinctively, he jerked back, swatting, determined to get whatever was on him off. His heart stopped when he saw what it was—a three-foot-long and four-inch-wide centipede.

  “Nope! Nope! Nope!” Zephyr clawed his way out of the chasm, fueled by adrenaline and nopes. He practically glided up the side of the creek, putting plenty of distance from it. The rest of the journey was a lot like the first half: lots of divots, bushes, and branches. And a constant sloshing from his shoes and general unpleasantness.

  Now that he was free, all that was left was to get up and lie to himself, “That actually wasn't that bad.” Already trying to convince himself to do it again, knowing he’d soar in skill levels.

  “Errr-GRah-OOph.” Various noises leaked out of Zephyr as he forced himself up, now slightly dryer and feeling worlds better. He was at the door when it opened, with Tim looking Zephyr up and down.

  “You know, when I got a notification of movement from the woods. I had no idea what to expect. That was until I remembered you saying you would run through the woods. I thought that was a joke.”

  “It was, until it wasn’t.” Zephyr’s reply was tired.

  “Did you really run through it the entire way?”

  “Yes.”

  Tim looked thoughtful before asking, “You want to reschedule the testing? You look like shit.”

  “Feel like shit, but since we stopped doing endurance tests I can still do the others. I just need a shower and a minute to sit down.”

  They were walking inside the testing warehouse when, curiously, Tim asked, “You gonna do it again?”

  “That entire journey was cursed from beginning to end.” Zephyr let out a long, self-deprecating laugh, “Of course I’ll do it again.”

  #

  —Energetic music —

  Centered on camera, a man stands in Shaolin-style martial arts robes, a big smile and energy seemingly expelling all over just waiting for him to move. To his left, a man in generic male workout clothes and a wizard hat, floppy and made out of thick stretchy material, somehow looking part of the outfit, was stretching, looking forward to the camera, a crystal floating behind him. To his right was a tight ponytail woman wearing more stylish, modern, stretchy workout clothes and warming up her arms.

  The music lowered as Jake spoke directly to his audience.

  “Hello everyone, I’m Jake McKoy, also known as Daoist Pete, your martial master.” He stood straight and bowed before turning toward the man behind him. “Here is our exercising Archmage wizard, Tim. He’ll be doing a modified, low-impact version of our workout. Remember, every little bit goes a long way. It's good to move no matter what, and everyone moves at their own pace.” Jake turned to the woman, “Speaking of own pace. This is Liz. She will be showing more advanced modifications. Isn’t that right?”

  “Oh yeah!” She replied

  “Great enthusiasm!”

  From outside the screen, two young adults stand in front of their TV. “I can’t believe you’re streaming us doing this.” The woman said, shaking her head while stretching her arms.

  “Hey!” The man beside her said, affronted, “You promised to do it with me.”

  “I am, aren’t I?” She grumbled.

  They both turned back to the screen. The screen filled with the video, and the two were in the corner of the screen.

  The music got louder, and the exercises began. Jake walks the viewer through each exercise, “Remember, it’s important to breathe. You can’t move if you don’t breathe. Now, when you do these exercises, your instinct will be to hold your breath. We’ll show you the proper breathing methods for each exercise.” The video continued on with him talking about the importance of breathing, when to hold, and when to exhale. Tim showed a more simplistic version of the workout, and Liz did a much more advanced one, even going from a plank to a handstand.

  The video was winding down as he addressed the viewers again, “Remember, everything is all about breathing. Awakened or not. Your first skill will be about breathing. Teaching you to move and control yourself. Remember, be careful; skills are just as dangerous as they are useful.”

  The screen goes black, filling with just the two sweaty adults, the woman looking annoyed. “I agreed to do it with you not listen to there bullshit. It’s because of people like them that our parents—”

  “He’s talking about breathing. Aren’t all those yoga videos you follow do the same?” He cut her off.

  “Well. This is different.”

  “How?” He asked pointedly.

  “Well. He kept talking about how it was good for skills. Skills this and that. Besides, skills being a myth, made up by mass hysteria—”

  “Seriously, you buy into that Doctors bullshit?”

  “Hey, he’s been prominent in the news. He’s one of the leading experts.”

  “Expert?! They have to say everything is an opinion, not a fact. Besides, all this is supposed to be important when you awaken.”

  “So. You still got like six years.”

  “It’s also a great way to stay in shape.”

  “Sure.” The girl rolled her eyes. “It’s not like any of them actually know what's good or not. Did you see that Wizard guy? He had a crystal floating behind him. Those are supposed to be drugs.”

  “There not drugs; they’re quests.”

  “A random group on Reddit or Facebook is not a reliable source of information.”

  “You’re not a reliable source, and they say they’re addicting. And that sounds like drugs to me.”

  “That’s been refuted. It’s as addictive as a good steak, chocolate, or the feeling of completing something.”

  “How would you know?” Her eyes narrowed.

  He smirked. “Anyone can do a quest.”

  * * *