THE BALANCING ACT

Marcus Chen woke for the second time that Tuesday with straw in his hair and calculus in his nightmares. The sharp electronic beep of his alarm clock dragged him back to university reality.

He bolted upright, heading straight for the underside of the bunk above. His forehead met solid pine. Stars burst in his vision, the Chicago kind, not Valdris. The phantom ache of Big Tom's reassuring hand still warmed his shoulder.

Around him, his cramped dorm room appeared with jarring completeness. Textbooks stacked high on the desk, his laptop still open to last night's chemistry homework, his phone buzzing with notifications from a world that had kept spinning while he'd been worrying about cattle parasites and crop rotation.

The dorm smelled like stale pizza and body spray, yet he swore he could still catch a ghost of lye-soap and barnyard on his clothes. A sensory postcard from Valdris. He dressed in the same jeans that had survived three harvests and prayed the campus health service never asked why he looked so tired all the time.

Tuesday. Introduction to Biology exam. First semester of college. Parents expecting weekly check-ins.

The weight of two lives pressed down on him as he stumbled toward the shower, body moving on autopilot while his mind stayed stuck between worlds. He could still hear Big Tom's hopeful voice, still taste watery porridge, still feel the desperate hunger in Grandfather Aldric's eyes.

But standing under the steady stream of hot water, a luxury that would seem like magic in Valdris, Marcus felt something different. For the first time in months, he wasn't dreading biology class. In fact, he was almost excited.

Finally, he was learning things that could help his family survive. Not just creating makeshift rodent traps or swings for Tim and Tam. And being a doctor could be useful for saving lives in Valdris, especially in his family. The medical knowledge he was gaining here could mean the difference between life and death back on the farm.

His phone buzzed. A text from his mom.

"How's the first month going? Dad says to remind you about eating actual vegetables, not just ramen. Call us this weekend! Love you! - Mom"

Marcus smiled despite his exhaustion. He pictured his parents in their small apartment. His father David opening Chen Electronics Repair, his mother Li heading to the medical clinic. They'd worked double shifts for years to send him here; he owed them more than half-awake texts.

He grabbed his shower caddy and stepped into the hallway, where the chaos of dorm life was already in full swing. Someone's alarm blared three doors down; the common room smelled of burnt coffee and last night's microwaved pizza.

"Marcus! Dude, thank God you're awake!"

Tyler Nakamura burst from the room across the hall, hair spiking at impossible angles, eyes wide with caffeinated panic. At eighteen, Tyler was a first-year computer science major who lived and breathed streaming metrics. His dorm room looked like a neon-lit NASA control center, complete with multiple monitors, professional lighting equipment, and enough energy drinks to power a small aircraft. Tyler approached college like it was an elaborate speedrun, optimizing everything from his class schedule to his meal prep to maximize his streaming time.

"My stream setup crashed again! Main rig is blue-screening and I have a sponsored stream in two hours!"

"Did you try turning it off and on again?" Marcus asked. That was the full extent of his troubleshooting knowledge.

"Of course I wait, let me try a full power cycle." Tyler vanished.

"Morning, Marcus." Jake Martinez emerged from the room next door, carrying a mug that read "Future Doctor". Unlike Tyler's chaos, Jake moved with the precision of someone who'd planned his life in five-year chunks. Also eighteen and first-year pre-med, Jake was the kind of person who color-coded his study schedule and had already mapped out his path through medical school. Where Tyler was all manic energy and optimization, Jake was steady, methodical, and genuinely caring. The type who'd chosen medicine because he wanted to help people, not because his parents expected it.

"Big day?" Marcus noted the stack of flashcards.

"Intro bio review, you ready? You've seemed pretty confident."

Marcus's confidence came straight from Valdris, but how could he explain that? "I've been thinking about biology differently. More practically. Let's go. Crush that test."

Jake frowned thoughtfully. "You've been different since semester started. More confident, more... I don't know, like you found your groove. I was thinking maybe you didn't like me at first, but now you seem..."

Before Marcus could answer, Tyler reappeared.

"It worked! Marcus, you're a genius! How do you always know exactly what to try?"

An hour later Marcus slid into his usual middle-row seat for Introduction to Biology.

Jake claimed the seat beside him. "Panic level?"

"Surprisingly low," Marcus admitted, pulling out his notebook.

Professor Harrison arrived, vibrant enthusiasm in tow. "Good morning! Before the exam, quick review: why did traditional farming communities rotate crops long before understanding the science?"

Half the class stared blankly. Marcus's hand shot up.

Harrison blinked. "Mr. Chen?"

Marcus explained rhizobia, root nodules, atmospheric nitrogen. Words flowing with a confidence that surprised even him. Heads turned; Jake looked like Marcus had started speaking Elvish.

Harrison beamed. "Excellent. And why was that critical for pre-industrial agriculture?"

Marcus outlined soil depletion and subsistence yields. Harrison nodded approvingly. The review turned into an impromptu Q&A, Marcus fielding questions on mites, saponification, and nutrient cycles like he'd spent his childhood on a research farm instead of a Chicago public school.

The exam felt almost trivial. When it ended, Jake leaned over.

"Who are you and what have you done with Marcus? You were kinda depressed the first month, right?"

Marcus shrugged, cheeks hot. "Been watching a lot of educational YouTube." Even he winced at how lame that sounded.

Jake nudged Marcus as they packed their bags. "Text me after chem, yeah? We can walk back together." He flashed a genuine grin.

"Deal," Marcus said, grateful for normal-friend energy.

Two weeks into October, Marcus Chen was starting to think he might actually have this college thing figured out.

"Dude, you're like a completely different person than you were a month ago," Tyler said, sprawled across Marcus's desk chair while Jake studied at his own desk. Tyler had basically moved into their room, since his roommate had dropped out and he was waiting for housing to assign him someone new.

"Different how?" Marcus asked, though he suspected he knew the answer. His confidence in classes had been growing daily, and it was getting harder to hide his unusual insights.

"You know how some people are book smart but have no practical sense?" Jake said, looking up from his organic chemistry textbook. "You're the opposite. It's like you understand how things work in the real world."

Marcus felt a familiar flutter of anxiety. His roommates were getting too sharp. "I think about things differently, I guess."

"That's exactly what I mean!" Tyler spun around in the chair, eyes lighting up with sudden inspiration. "You should join my streams sometimes. I need someone with insight as a voice of reason. Chat loves it when I have guests who can think strategically."

"Maybe," Marcus said carefully. "I'd have to think about it."

"Consider it, man. You've got this way of breaking down problems that would be perfect for content."

Before Tyler could say more, Marcus's phone rang. The caller ID showed "Mom," and he felt the familiar mix of love and guilt that came with every call from home.

"Hey, Mom."

"Marcus! How are things going? You sound tired."

"Studying. Everything's fine." Marcus glanced at his roommates, who were pretending not to listen while obviously eavesdropping.

"Good, good. Your father says to ask about your nutrition again. And..." Li Chen's voice took on the carefully casual tone that meant she was about to ask something important. "You're still not seeing those strange worlds, right? You know, like when you were little?"

Marcus felt ice in his veins. The room seemed to tilt, and suddenly he was six years old again, crying to his parents about why the house kept changing, why different people kept calling themselves his family, why everything was different each morning. The concerned looks, the gentle but persistent questions, the appointment with Dr. Reeves who had patient eyes and asked him to draw pictures of his "dream family."

"Marcus? Are you there?"

"Yeah, Mom. No, nothing like that. Regular dreams about failing chemistry," he managed, forcing a laugh. "I was a confused kid back then. You know how children are."

"Of course. I worry sometimes. You seem so distant lately."

"I'm fine, really. Adjusting to college life."

After hanging up, Marcus sat quietly for a moment, trying to push down the memories of those early years when he'd tried to explain Valdris to his parents. The therapy sessions, the gentle explanations about "overactive imagination," the way everyone relaxed when he finally learned to keep his other life secret.

"Everything okay?" Jake asked gently.

"Yeah. Mom being mom."

Jake stood up, stretching. "You know what? We've been studying our asses off all week. Let's go out today. Do something normal for once."

Marcus looked up, surprised. With things getting better at the farm and his real life finding some balance, the idea appealed to him. "What did you have in mind?"

"There's that new action movie everyone's talking about. We could catch the afternoon showing, grab some food that doesn't come from a microwave."

Tyler perked up. "I'm in! But I've got to be back by six for a stream. Scheduled content, you know?"

And so the three of them found themselves in a darkened theater, sharing overpriced popcorn and watching explosions that seemed absurdly simple compared to Marcus's recent concerns. For two hours, he felt genuinely normal. A college freshman hanging out with his friends.

Afterward, as they walked back toward campus, Tyler checked his phone and groaned. "Guys, I need to get back. Stream starts in an hour and I haven't even set up."

"Dude, you are no fun," Jake complained good-naturedly.

"Content creation is serious business! Besides, you two aren't exactly party people anyway."

Jake laughed. "Fair point. I was gonna go back and study more anatomy anyway."

As they headed back to the dorm, Marcus felt grateful for this simple afternoon. These moments of normal college life reminded him that he was still eighteen, still figuring things out, still allowed to be a student sometimes.

Late that evening, studying in the library's quiet corner, Marcus let his mind wander to Valdris. The familiar pull of sleep was approaching, and with it, the transition to his other life. He found himself almost looking forward to it. To seeing how the cattle were doing, to checking on the eastern field, to seeing if Lyanna would be at the village well tomorrow morning.

The thought surprised him with its warmth. When had he started thinking about her so often?

Marcus woke to the sound of laughter and music drifting through the thin walls of the farmhouse. For a moment, he couldn't place the unfamiliar joy in those voices. Then he remembered. Today was the Harvest Festival.

"Marcus!" Big Tom's voice boomed from below. "Get down here! The whole village is gathering!"

Marcus, he thought to himself with relief. He'd fought to change his Valdris name for years, and he was glad it had finally stuck. Having two lives was already insane. Having two names would have been impossible to bear. Since there was no paperwork in Valdris, he'd simply begged his family for years to call him Marcus instead of Hal, the name they'd originally given him. It was one small way to keep his identity unified across worlds.

Marcus rolled off his straw mattress, noting with satisfaction that his body felt strong and healthy. The past two weeks had been a revelation. The cattle treatment had worked perfectly. Not a single cow was scratching anymore. Word had spread to neighboring farms, and Marcus found himself fielding questions about everything from crop rotation to livestock care.

"Coming!" Marcus called back, pulling on his best tunic, the one his mother Elara had mended until it almost looked respectable.

Downstairs, the farmhouse was bustling with preparation. His aunts were packing what food they had left for the festival, while his uncles debated which of them would represent the family in the traditional strength competitions. Each year their contribution to the festival kept shrinking. What could you expect when the number of mouths to feed grew but the land didn't?

"There he is," Grandfather Aldric said, his voice carrying a note of pride that made Marcus's chest tight. "Our young innovator."

"Grandfather"

"Don't be modest, lad. Half the village wants to talk to you today. Young Lyanna from the bakery has been asking after you all week."

Marcus felt heat creep up his neck. Lyanna. He'd thought about her more than he cared to admit since that morning weeks ago when she'd smiled at him across the village square.

"She's a good girl," his mother Elara said, giving Marcus a meaningful look. "Smart, too."

"And her father's bakery does well even in lean years," Uncle Aldwin added pragmatically. "Good connections with the grain merchants."

"Can we maybe get to the festival before you marry me off?" Marcus said, earning chuckles from his family.

The walk to the village square revealed the entire community transformed. Colorful banners with drawings hung between buildings, long tables groaned under the weight of contributed food, and someone had set up a small stage where traveling musicians were tuning their instruments.

"Marcus!" A familiar voice called out. Marcus turned to see Lyanna approaching, and his heart did something complicated in his chest.

She was beautiful, obviously, but that wasn't what made Marcus forget how to breathe. It was her eyes, the confident way she moved through the crowd, the genuine warmth in her smile when she looked at him.

"Lyanna," Marcus managed. "You look... the festival looks wonderful."

She laughed, a sound like water over stones. "Smooth. I can see why all the girls talk about your silver tongue."

"They talk about me?"

"Marcus, half the village has been talking about you since you cured the Hendersons' cattle plague. Old Henrik swears you saved his entire herd."

"It wasn't plague, just parasites. Basic soap and"

"I heard what it was," Lyanna interrupted gently. She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Where did you learn to think like that?"

Marcus felt the familiar challenge of explaining his knowledge without sounding insane. "I think about problems differently, I guess. Look for patterns."

"Patterns," Lyanna repeated thoughtfully. "Like how you suggested my father adjust his bread recipe to account for the humidity changes this season?"

Marcus had forgotten about that. It had seemed obvious. The same principles that governed chemical reactions in his college lab applied to bread making. "Did it work?"

"His bread has been perfect for two weeks straight. My grandpa's asking him for his secret." Lyanna studied Marcus with those intelligent eyes. "You see connections other people miss. It's remarkable."

*Yeah, it's thousands of years of human knowledge,* Marcus thought. *I'm stealing knowledge from my world.* But how could he explain that without sounding completely insane?

Before Marcus could figure out how to respond to that, Big Tom appeared beside them with his usual devastating lack of subtlety.

"Marcus! There you are! They're starting the strength competitions, and oh, hello Lyanna." Tom's greeting carried approximately the subtlety of a bull in a pottery shop.

"Hello, Tom," Lyanna said, clearly amused. "Are you entering the competitions?"

"Obviously," Tom grinned. "Though I was hoping Marcus might try the puzzle contests. He's got a clever mind for solving things."

"I'd like to see that," Lyanna said, turning back to Marcus. "Would you walk with me? I want to show you something."

As they moved away from the crowd, Marcus found himself falling into easy conversation with Lyanna. She asked intelligent questions about his ideas for improving village life, and offered insights that showed she'd been thinking deeply about the same problems.

"The eastern fields aren't the only issue," she said as they paused by the edge of the village. "My father says grain prices have been fluctuating wildly. Something about problems with trade routes."

"What kind of problems?"

Lyanna's expression grew troubled. "Rumors, mostly. Caravans going missing. Some traders say there's been trouble near Thornwick, but nobody wants to talk specifics."

Marcus felt a chill that had nothing to do with the autumn air. "What kind of trouble?"

"I don't know. But my father's had to source grain from farther away, and the merchants seem nervous." Lyanna shook her head. "But let's not talk about troubling rumors today. Show me this mind everyone's talking about."

They returned to the festival, where Marcus found himself dragged into various competitions and demonstrations. To his surprise, he enjoyed it. The puzzles were engaging, the company was warm, and Lyanna's presence made everything seem brighter.

As evening approached and the musicians began playing for dancing, Lyanna caught Marcus's hand.

"Dance with me," she said simply.

"I'm not good at dancing," Marcus admitted.

"Neither am I," Lyanna said. "We'll figure it out together."

They did figure it out, moving together in the simple village dances while the music swirled around them. Marcus found himself thinking that this moment, this girl, this community might be worth fighting for.

"Marcus," Lyanna said softly as the song ended, "I'd like to see you again. Outside of festivals and emergencies."

"I'd like that too," Marcus said, meaning it completely.

As the evening wound down and families began gathering their belongings, Marcus felt a contentment he hadn't experienced in either world. Walking home with his family, listening to Big Tom's enthusiastic recap of his competition victories, Marcus thought he might finally be finding his place.

Back in his narrow bed, listening to the familiar sounds of the farmhouse settling for the night, Marcus felt something he'd never experienced before. Genuine balance.

In Chicago, he was excelling academically, his roommates were becoming real friends, and his parents were proud of his progress. The challenges felt manageable, even exciting.

In Valdris, he was gaining respect as a problem-solver, his family was eating better than they had in years, and Lyanna made him think about possibilities he'd never considered.

For the first time since his world-switching began, Marcus started making long-term plans for both lives. Maybe he could pursue agricultural science in college, legitimately research the solutions his Valdris family needed. Maybe he could slowly introduce more innovations to the village, building on his growing reputation. Maybe he could even imagine a future with Lyanna while still succeeding in his modern life.

The only shadow on his contentment was Lyanna's mention of trouble near Thornwick. But surely that was typical medieval political squabbling. Nothing that would affect a small farming village like Millhaven.

As sleep claimed him, Marcus felt more confident than he ever had. He'd figured out how to live in both worlds successfully. What could possibly go wrong?

Outside, far beyond the village boundaries, a thin line of smoke rose against the autumn sky. Too distant to see, too early to cause alarm, but growing larger each night.

The comfortable balance Marcus had fought so hard to achieve was about to shatter completely.

But for tonight, he slept peacefully, dreaming of harvest festivals and chemistry labs, of Lyanna's laugh and Tyler's discoveries, unaware that his two worlds were about to collide in ways he never could have imagined.