Year 0 Month 5 Week 3
#
Leaving the office after another odd delivery. Zephyr pulled out his phone to see if there were any new requests that day. Sadly, those were starting to become more infrequent. Business had both picked up and slowed down, with days where he had only a few deliveries and others hundreds. He’d almost never know until the day of, and lately, it felt like the amount was shrinking. The novelty of their deliveries seemingly had long worn off. Now he could only hope their regular customers would be enough. They probably wouldn’t be if it weren’t for all the odd jobs. They were the main thing keeping them afloat, given how much they tend to pay or tip. Cara was working on some kind of big deal with some of the buildings around them, but it was slow going, and no one wanted to commit. Zephyr was hoping work would pick back up soon.
Putting his phone away, Zephyr looked up to see a familiar woman approaching him. She looked even younger this time, maybe putting her in her thirties. Just a small bit of white hair, at he tips. Not to mention her being even taller. Her clothes looked like a custom-tailored uniform, green vest with fantasy-inspired elements, and she even had a side sword. Is that legal to carry?
“Excuse me?”
Zephyr was unsure whether she was approaching him, “Huh?” He looked around to ensure she was talking to him before turning back, “Yes?”
“Are you the squirrel?”
“Ratatoskr, but yes. Is there something that can help you with?”
She smiled big, “Actually, yes. Have you heard of the Adventurer Guild Initiative?”
-Snap-
Zephyr snapped his fingers, “I knew it was you! You came up to me last time.” It was when he was running from all the other protesters. She tried to hand him a pamphlet, but it was called something else last time. Or was it? Zephyr couldn’t quite remember.
The woman glowed, “I’m glad you remembered! We’re picking up steam now, and we have a proposition for you.”
“Oh.” For some reason, Zephyr felt his heart drop at this. Realizing she had work for him, “Alright? What is this proportion?”
She didn’t seem to notice his change. “The Adventurer Guild Initiative is a large group with chapters across the country, dedicated to working together to stop a lot of this nonsense legislation from going through before it can cause irreparable damage to the people. We are working at the local, state, and federal levels. We are dedicated to ensuring people aren’t relegated to a lower class just for skills or certain levels, providing outlets and training to keep people safe.”
“That was a lot.” She had gotten him more curious, “And can you be more specific on the nonsense regulation. That’s kind of vague.”
“Well, the most recent one, they’re trying to regulate which skills are allowed.”
“WHAT!?” Zephyr practically yelled, alarmed, “All a level one skill is breathing. And it’s not like we choose.” It was insane.
The woman went on, “Exactly! Not to mention the previous license fiasco. Did you know they talked about updating your license for every level?”
Again! He did not want to deal with another day at the DMV: “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“They are also talking about laws with wild rifts. Not to mention having to register every quest you take, or taxing every quest.”
“I stand corrected. That was the stupidest thing I ever heard.” Looking at the woman, she was just nodding, “Is this some sort of scare tactic. There’s no way these would go through, even if they did. I don’t think they could even be enforced.”
“After awakening a lot of legislators…retired, and many of the people writing the laws are too young to have awakened, and that combination is just trouble. Not to mention the lobbyist jumping on this, trying to prophet. And many of the older senators who stayed are stuck in their ways or don’t care enough, moving on autopilot, not reading anything they’re trying to pass.”
Zephyr could only shake his head. People were people, he thought, “You‘d think having to face themselves on a regular basis, people might become better.”
— Snort —
The woman covered her face, slightly red. “Some do get better, kinder. Others get worse. Either delving into their own delusion, or they get stuck thinking they’re right and entrenching, doubling down on their ideas.”
“Huh. I guess people are still people.” Zephyr said with a shrug.
“Exactly. It sounds like you understand. Would you like to join us?”
Zephyr was getting salesman vibes now. Send a beautiful giant lady out to get his attention, then pounce on the unsuspecting squirrel. “I get what you’re trying to do, but I don’t understand what you are. By the name, you sound like a cliche anime adventurers’ guild. But is it more like a union or something else?”
She looked chagrined.
Seeing this he thought; Holy shit! It is based on anime. He could only stare in disbelief as she went on.
“It’s not too far off. Currently, in many of our branches, we are working with law enforcement to clear out rifts for public safety. Honestly, it’s all about getting ahead of what comes next.”
“Next?”
“Right now, I’ll admit we’re going off fiction and other stories, but all of them lead to one thing.” Her voice grew serious, “Monsters.”
“I really want to say you’re wrong.” The memory of a giant centipede, too large to be possible. “But I really don’t think I can.”
The woman must have caught his momentary lapse, her smile growing uneasy. “Would you like to join up then? With your local legend and your work with Archmagus Tim, you’d be a major asset.”
It was a big ask. But if everything she was saying was true. The guild could be a massive force for good. The big question, though, was whether he had time? He was still working with Tim and Jake every time he leveled. He was even assisting on some of the other experiments in his free time. Zephyr was running what felt like nonstop. He’d also just started to work out the rest of his body— his last showing on the obstacle course was just shameful. With reluctance. “Not right now…I have my job and business.” Seeing her disheartening look, “Don’t get me wrong. It sounds like a good idea. I just hope we don’t need adventurers—at least not for a while. And besides I think this is the third time we’ve met and I still don’t know your name.
“Nina.”
“Zephyr.”
#
“Ahaha!”
“My TURN!”
“Don’t push!”
The screams of excited children filled the air as Zephyr stood staring at a mailbox covered in floating multicolored balloons. I don’t know what I expected. When he was given the address and had been told it would be the one with the balloons, for some reason, it did not occur that they would be kids’ party balloons. There was even a giant blow-up slide poking out from the backyard.
I can’t believe we’re delivering all the way to the suburbs now. This delivery had Zephyr questioning Cara and Killian’s business decisions. He’d understood they were running low on jobs downtown, but going this far for multiple deliveries would be a bit much.
While questioning everything, Zephyr rang the doorbell.
—Ding-Dong—
The door opened, and a woman almost as tall as the door stood there looking frazzled and flustered. Her eyes looked over Zephyr up and down, then looked beyond him as if searching for someone else. “Can I help you?”
Ignoring her look, “Ratatoskr here for all your courier needs.” He lifted his hat and bowed, feeling theatrical, “I believe I'm here for a delivery.”
She stared. The silence grew, making the whole thing awkward. “Oh! The squirrel!” She exclaimed before looking back, curious, “I thought you’d look more like a squirrel.”
Grabbing his slowly shrinking gut, “I'm only chubby like a squirrel, and— ” he trailed off as he formed his squirrel ears and tail. “Did you have a package?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The woman stared at the squirrel for a long while. “No?” Looking lost before adding, “You can set up out back, the kids are excited for the entertainment. So is it a magic show?”
“What?” It was his turn to be confused, “Ma’am, I’m a courier.”
“What? But...my husband—” she was getting more flustered before a dawning realization hit her “—is an idiot.”
Zephyr stared as it dawned on him, “He work downtown?”
She nodded.
“At one of the law firms?”
She let out a long, exasperated sigh, “Yes. This is either a prank by one of his colleagues again, or he didn't understand your job when they recommended you.”
“Honestly, it could be either. They’ve been asking me to do weirder things lately. So… sorry?”
Looking lost, her eyes kept going from the party to Zephyr, “Look. Is it possible you have anything to entertain the kids? We may have overpromised, and the other entertainers canceled.”
Cara really needs to get all the info upfront. Or at least tell me. Zephyr took a deep breath, thinking. It wasn’t the first time he’d been called to perform. It was the second, and after the tragic first event, where he was essentially paraded around like an object, too embarrassed to do anything. He decided to have something ready in case it happened again.
Hesitantly, “Maybe. I can’t guarantee anything.” With one final thought: It should be child-appropriate. He made his way inside.
#
—Thud—
Hopeful. That was the look on the woman’s face as they made their way into the kitchen, “Alright, let’s get started. What do you need?”
“So…” Zephyr’s idea was still a work in progress—one he thought he’d have more time to work out. Now was as good a time as any to flesh out his idea. “First: Are you ok with kids insulting each other?”
-Snort-
“They’re kids, that’s like half their vocabulary.”
“Good, and they can all read and write?”
“Yes?”
“Then I will need a bunch of blank paper and pens.”
“Then?”
“Then we'll see how this goes.”
After scrambling around the house to gather paper and pens, Zephyr stood at the threshold of a sliding glass door. Looking out into his next delivery, where children ran around excitedly and brought chaos in their wake. Why am I intimidated by literal children? He took a few calming breaths, adjusted his nebula of quests into his most impressive formation: bright glowing ears, tails, and a spinning version of the Milky Way. With a deep inhale and a vague idea of what he was doing, he opened the door, stepped into the backyard, and began running.
It was time to pull out a little trick he’d been working on—one Sabeen had insisted would add a level of showmanship. Well, this was his chance as he went from one child to another, slipping a pen and paper into their little hands before they could even notice. A bit of sleight of hand and the look of wonder on the kid’s face as Zephyr zoomed by a ball of glowing light made it perfect. I hate when Sabeen is right.
Zephyr weaved through the yard at an impossible pace, a blur of magic and movement. Gliding across the grass, feet barely touching the ground, twisting through the children like they weren’t there. The children slowed, more noticing him as he skittered up the slide—the inflatable barely moving at his presence— handing out more paper and pens. It didn’t occur to him that it might be a bad idea to give pointy things to kids going down a slide or running—at least not till later. Thankfully, the kids were too shocked to hurt themselves by doing something stupid. Except for two who got a bit too excited and stabbed themselves with the pencils on the way down, though they pretended nothing happened cause they didn't want to get in trouble. Thus, by kid logic and the law, none of the children got hurt. Zephyr could only shake his head at seeing that.
As he delivered his final pen and paper, he changed tack and began to circle the kids, gathering them up as they watched on in wonder, as he really began his performance. First running up a tree, onto a branch, and over to another tree. Flying up it, then jumping off and onto the slide, slipping down the side, and doing a spin and slide, finally coming to a stop in front of the crowd of children. I'm pretty good at this, he thought, then he looked out over the crowd and froze. Shit. Their expectant gazes made his heart stop for a second.
Trying not to let any of his nervousness show and pulling on his inner archmage, “H-Hello, children! I am the radiant, cantankerous squirrel of legend. I am the courier of the gods.” He leaned over conspiratorially, “Messenger of the Eagles.” His nebula spun around him, shifting into a very rough image of a bird, and an always hungry dragon nibbling at the roots of Yggdrasil, the world tree.” The nebula shifted into a stick dragon and a shifting tree, “And my personal favorite, messenger of insults.”
The crystals whirled around Zephyr as he smirked playfully, “You see my two favorite clients, the dragon below the world's tree and the Eagles. They love to insult each other.”
One of the children snapped out of the awe, “IT’S THE SQUIRREL MY DAD TOLD ME ABOUT THIS. THEY SENT FUNNY MESSAGES TO EACH OTHER ALL DAY!” The kid yelled. Lacking volume control.
—Rowdy excited kid noises—
“HAHAHA” Zephyr let out an over-exaggerated loud laugh. All the kids quickly quieted, “What a fine day! Today, we are all a part of this. You, my little helpers, will help me write new messages to go up and down the tree. Now, everyone, take your sheet of paper, and write your best insult. Remember no naughty words, and keep it clean.”
The kids took to insult writing with gusto. Many quickly wrote something, while others took a few minutes. “Everyone have their insult?”
Nods and scattered yeses replied.
“Good. Rules are simple: you all run, I’ll count to ten. Then you need to deliver your insult and tag the person you’re delivering it to. They will freeze and then read it aloud before moving again. Game ends when no insults remain.”
The kids looked excited. “Can we keep going if we write more?” Someone asked.
“Of course. Everyone, put your pens and pencils down before the game starts. And if you need another insult, then come back and write another, keep the pointy things on the table.” After ensuring none of the kids were about to run with sharp pointy things, Zephyr shouted, “1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 GO!”
It was utter chaos, and the kids loved it. They quickly tagged the others, and insults flew everywhere. A lot were simple, like “You’re ugly.” Other classic yo momma jokes were, “Yo, momma, so fat, I couldn’t even fit her into this insult.” A few actually hurt Zephyr from just listening.
“You’re not your best friend’s best friend.”
Others are just creative: “You look like you eat cold popcorn.”
I may need to hold onto some. Zephyr thought.
The game went surprisingly smoothly; all the kids seemed to love it. Then the cracks that were inevitable started to show. As some of the kids started to take it too seriously, or began to target the same kid. Some weren’t respecting those who stepped away, and inevitably, a kid was found crying in a corner. When he saw that Zephyr quickly stopped the game just in time for a scuffle to start, the kids were throwing little punches.
“Enough!” Zephyr yelled, quickly pulling them apart. “Now. Do you all see the harm insults can cause? It was all fun until it wasn’t.”
“But—”
“Hush!” Zephyr stopped one of the red-eyed boys as he went on lecturing, “Yes, the game of insults is fun at the start, at least until people start to take it seriously. Then bad things happen, just like life. This game is supposed to have a natural end, but how many of you kept coming back for more?”
A couple of kids looked away shyly.
“Exactly.” Zephyr was pulling this lecture out of his ass and attempting to give a moral lesson to a game he made up not twenty minutes before. “Insults can be fun. But keep them clean and keep them tidy. Make sure the recipient understands it’s all in good fun.” There was no way that was right, but it sounded good to Zephyr. I really hope this doesn’t screw some of the kids up with a twisted moral.
Seeing his chance to get out of there, “And with that, I must climb.” Zephyr zoomed through the sliding glass door and away from the children.
—Roll- click—
“Phew.”
The harried mom sat behind the counter, smiling, “That went pretty well.”
Zephyr felt it was barely not a disaster and decided she was right, “Surprised me to. I kinda pulled it out of my ass.”
“Haha. I'm not surprised I pulled this on you.” She said, before turning curious, “If it's not too personal, what level are you?”
Zephyr smiled cheekily, “One.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “No. The way you moved, I thought you had to have been one of those higher-level people, at least five or six.”
“Bit of a misnomer there. My body is level one, but my skill is tier two, level eight. Or easier to understand eighteen. That’s how I was able to move like that.”
“Eighteen? Why tier two?”
“The skill evolves at ten. I’ve also been working with the “Archmage” on his research, as a test subject, and it’s all really fascinating.”
“Really?” The woman sounded impressed. “Wait. Do you mean Archmage Tim?”
“Yeah?”
“My son watches him all the time. He really likes his videos. They’re very informative.” She paused. “Hey, I'm part of the School Board, and we've been trying to figure out how to introduce kids to all of this. Would that be something you might be interested in? Of course, I’ll have to do a background check and all that, but having someone so...” she gestured to the swirling crystals all around him “... knowledgeable and obviously magical.”
That had not been something he’d ever even considered. “Never thought of it. Well, it wouldn't hurt. I could do it and correct a lot of bad info.” The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Killian is going to love this.
#
On a local news channel, a woman pleads before a committee. She stands towering over a podium with her eight-foot height. In front of her were nine individuals, with scattered heights, some towering, looking too large for the desk, wearing long black robes or custom suits, their hair showing gray tips, and two individuals, a contrast, sitting there at simple pre-awakened heights wearing regular suits.
The woman speaks, stilted yet filled with emotions, “It’s still hard, but so much easier. I no longer have withdrawals. I am able to feel happy again. But I still remember what it’s like. The ecstasy, the intense emotions, the feeling of everything was enhanced by a thousand. The days I spent awake, ignoring everything but that feeling, still haunt me. I’m—” the woman’s voice broke slightly, “—so much better now outside of it. I feel like myself again, like I did when I was a kid before my first hit. Before, I felt the need to escape. Before the first time I…I” She had to pause and take a deep breath, “Before I sold myself just for a little bit more.” She swallowed, taking a deep breath.
“I still want to forget. I wish I could forget it all. But when I awakened, I was forced to see it all. See it all without feeling it. I was forced to confront it. See what it was doing to me and those I love. Thanks to that experience, I can finally see a way forward. I finally went out to get the help I needed. Despite all the burned bridges, I still tried and found a few still standing—a bit charred—but still there. Most of all, I learned I still need time.”
The woman turned, looking at a small group of people all smiling at her encouragingly. “Despite all this progress, I learned that awakening and opening portals doesn't magically heal the trauma behind it all. But it does allow those parts of the brain to heal. Making it truly possible to make my way through this. And I think…I hope I'm making progress. It’s been weeks since I last woke up screaming, and I haven't yelled or self-sabotaged in months now. My appearance no longer judges me, the evidence of my past mistakes no longer visible.” She held up her arms, showing her clean, pristine arms with no signs of drug use. Then pointed to her healthy face and teeth. “No evidence sitting on my face, arms, or in my own head. I can relax for once. With a miracle no one could have predicted, and it’s beautiful.”
She turned seriously, making eye contact with each committee member. “Please. Think of all the good that’s happened and know there’s still so much more left for us to grow into. Many others and I are finally healing. Please think of me and those left behind, finally able to work forward. We just need a bit of help.
“Thank you for your time.”
* * *
