I'm the weakest, but I'm secretly the strongest!

Damp stems thud against the grass. The wind sings through the leaves. The air smells sweet of the many flowers growing in the garden. The hero takes in the designated sparring space as he slowly walks in. His companion has gone ahead of him.

There was a small crowd gathering in the center of the garden, waiting for him to come. Cheering and gossipping about the newcomer. There are words that can almost be made.

“He’s so cute!”

“Really? I’d think he’s average…”

“I’m looking forward to what his skill may be!”

Furian is waiting for him there, in the middle of the pack. He has stayed quiet throughout the chatter. His usual grin hasn’t left his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Sunder! You’ll be starting sparring with me today,” He says, pulling out his sword. “I think we can skip the wooden ones so just grab one from the weapon rack. Go ahead!”

Sunder’s hands are shaking when he goes for it. The handle feels foreign, and the sword is heavy in his grasp. He tries to grab the sword with one hand the way Furian does. He only succeeds in carrying it when intently holding it with both hands.

“It’s okay buddy, we’ve got all day here.” Furian taunts.

Sunder wants to prove him wrong so bad. He charges at the other man.

Furian evades the attack as if it were nothing. He then gently pokes him in the head with his free hand. “Careful now, friend. You’re supposed to use a bit more finesse than that. Try again”

Sunder tries again and this time he manages to at least clash his sword against the other. The metal scrapping against each other produces a loud shrill noise. The crowd around them cringes.

“Best out of three, buddy?” Furian taunts him again.

Another try is another sword clashing against the other, easily parried. Furian pokes his head again.

“It’s okay, we can do best out of five or you can try another weapon.” Furian says after the failed attempt. “You can barely lift that thing. Let’s get you something lighter.”

Sunder throws in the sword back in the rack, wishing he had hit him at least once before giving up.

Furian stands up straight and looks over to the halfway at the right. He grins and starts waving over at someone there.

“Hope! Are you done working? We could use your help with the bow here. We’re trying out my buddy for weapon skill.” he cups his hands around his mouth. Humiliatingly, he adds, “he thinks you’re cute!”

Sunder wishes he had hit him with the sword for an entirely different reason now.

The girl agrees though, as she makes her way to the garden.

“I’m still working, just had to grab some papers but I can take some time to guide him.” She says, before turning to Sunder.

Hope hands him a bow off the rack and starts correcting his posture against it. Her hands are soft and warm and he can feel them through his clothes. She’s whispering something about proper posture and tension. He can only focus on how close she is. She’s really cute, and her hair smells like tea and honey. When correcting where his hand should be, she suddenly pressed her chest against his back. Sunder relaxes his grip instinctively.

“Ah! you shot that out too early.” Furian comments. The arrow has hit the ground at an impressively low speed.

“Mhm,” Hope puts her hand up to her chin. “I think it might be best to try another weapon skill.” She walks away, tea and honey mingling with herbs like a comforting warm drink.

The rest of the day goes a lot like that. A parade of girls helping him with different weapons. Furian taunting him from the sidelines. A cute girl with twin tails, cat ears and a bad attitude berates him through spear sparring. A little girl with huge eyes struggles with her words, but not her claymore. A blond elf with impressively long hair throws knives at him until he gets seriously hurt. By this point, the crowd is pretty much nonexistent.

“Hey hey, Frank, get in here. Sunder won’t stop bleeding.” Furian drags a man who had been taking care of the plants a few paces from them. “Take a look at him, will you?”

“I’ll heal your friend, is not like I can say no without looking like scum.” Frank states bluntly.

Frank kneels down and hovers his hands over the cuts in Sunder’s torso. The broken skin heals, but his clothes remain mangled. Frank is apparently not popular, as everyone else leaves when he gets close. Frank stands up to leave as well, but Furian stops him.

“Can you help my buddy out? You’re the only mage around and he has failed every other weapon skill check.”

“Fine, I’ll be a second.” Frank goes back to his flowers and picks up a staff. He hands it to Sunder, all but shoving it in his face. The people here, he notices, are very lax about personal space. “Grab it. Newbies do better with something to channel their magic.”

Sunder’s hand feel like electricity once he grabs the staff. He blinks against the surge of power running through his body. His mouth forms a small smile, the first one in the entire day.

“Woah, is that a smile from my buddy boy Sunder? I didn’t know you could do that!” Furian shouts from a patch of soil. The grass in this area has really suffered through today’s tests.

“Alright,” Frank says from another beat up patch. “Point that at me and think of something like stinging. We won’t be doing any spell work today.”

Sunder points the staff at Frank. He only gets to do this and think of how it’d be nice to be back at home wherever it might be. He doesn’t get to think about hurting Frank when it happens.

It’s an out of body experience, almost. One second he’s testing out magic in a fantasy world, the other he gets a violent flashback of something. Bright lights, cold metal and bizarre imagery.

It’s like he has brought his imagination to this moment. The bright blue lights become a star rain, and the garden disappears in favor of what seems like a clear sky. The grass becomes water, and it reflects the stars glittering above them. He turns to see if the others are seeing this, too.

Something splashes in his face, much like a water balloon. He’s sure he saw Frank’s body inflating, much like a balloon would for an instant. His mind can hardly comprehend what has happened, but there is a mass of gore and folded skin where Frank was.

When Furian stands up, he leaves a spot clean of blood on the soil.

They stare at each other for a long second.

Sunder goes to wipe at his face and sees his hands already covered in blood. His heart feels like it’ll beat a bruise into his chest and his lungs are burning.

“Calm down,” Furian says unhelpfully.

His knees buckle, and he falls down.

“Put your hands over him, like Frank did. It’s going to be okay.” He urges.

Sunder wants to say no, this was brought by his hands.

“Do it. Do you want him dead?” Furian taunts him. “Do you want to be a criminal, is that it?”

Sunder puts up his hands and thinks about healing. He might be mumbling it, too.

He refuses to look and clenches his eyes shut. It sounds disgusting, like meat rubbing against each other. It takes probably a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity.

“You got it, buddy. You can stop now.” Furian says cheerfully. “Let’s skeddaddle, yeah? I’m sure grumps here will wake up on his own.”

Sunder opens his eyes to being dragged away. The garden restored to a green heaven and a lot more flowers than before. Frank, blessedly whole, is among a bed of wildflowers seemingly asleep.

“What are you thinking for dinner? I would have something hearty if I were you. Magic exhausts people from what I hear.” Furian nervously blabbers on. “I’m not an expert, you know, but Frank has been a friend of mine for years now, so I pick up some stuff. I’m almost sure you’re a D-rank mage too, you know, a bit of a disappointment. It means you can work up the class ranks, but I’m not sure you’ll ever reach S hahaha!”

Sunder could believe he hallucinated the whole thing if Furian's hands weren't shaking.