ACADEMIC PROBATION

Marcus stared at the email on his laptop screen, reading the same paragraph for the third time without absorbing any of it. The words seemed to blur together, like the formal Valdrian script he'd been struggling with in Aldric's shop. But this email wasn't about business partnerships or soap formulations. It was from his organic chemistry professor, and the subject line read "Academic Concern - Immediate Response Required."

*Mr. Chen,*

*Your absence from the past two lab sessions and failure to submit your problem sets has put your grade in serious jeopardy. As of today, you're failing this course. Please schedule a meeting with me immediately to discuss your academic standing and develop a plan for improvement.*

*Dr. Sarah Martinez*

Marcus closed the laptop harder than necessary, earning a concerned look from Tyler, who was editing video footage at his desk.

"Bad news?" Tyler asked, not looking away from his screen where he was cutting together highlights from his latest speedrun.

"Just... academic stuff," Marcus replied vaguely. The truth was more complicated. He'd been missing classes because he was exhausted from his dual life. Working with Aldric during the day in Valdris, then working night jobs until late, then waking up in his dorm room with barely enough energy to attend lectures, let alone focus on them.

"Academic stuff like... good academic stuff or 'my parents are going to kill me' academic stuff?"

"The latter."

Tyler finally turned around in his chair, giving Marcus his full attention. "How bad?"

Marcus rubbed his temples, feeling the familiar tension headache that had become his constant companion. "Failing organic chemistry. Missing too many lab sessions."

"Dude." Tyler's expression shifted from casual concern to genuine alarm. "Organic chem is like, the foundation of your entire pre-med track. You can't fail that."

"I know."

"So what's going on? You've been weird all semester, but this is next level. Are you sick? Depressed? Having some kind of breakdown?"

Marcus wanted to laugh at the question. Was he having a breakdown? He was living two completely different lives, building a business partnership with a medieval merchant while trying to maintain his college GPA. Most people would consider that a breakdown.

"I've just been... distracted. Thinking about other things."

"What other things? The soap business?" Tyler's voice took on a slightly mocking tone. "Marcus, I know you've been obsessing over that farmers market idea, but you can't let it torpedo your actual education."

Before Marcus could respond, Jake burst through the door, looking frazzled and carrying a stack of medical textbooks.

"Thank god you're here," Jake said, dropping the books on his desk. "I just ran into Dr. Martinez in the hallway. She asked me how you were doing, said she was worried about you missing classes." Jake paused, studying Marcus's expression. "Please tell me you haven't been skipping her labs."

Marcus felt his stomach drop. "She talked to you?"

"She's concerned about you. Said you were one of her most promising students at the beginning of the semester, but now..." Jake sat down heavily on his bed. "Marcus, what the hell is going on? And don't give me some vague answer about being distracted. I'm your friend, and I'm worried."

Tyler swiveled his chair to face both of them. "I think we need to have an intervention."

"An intervention?" Marcus felt cornered.

"Yeah, an intervention. You've been acting weird for months. You're failing classes, you're obsessed with soap making, you disappear for hours at a time, and you have this... distant look, like your mind is somewhere else entirely."

Jake nodded in agreement. "Plus you've been talking in your sleep."

"What?" Marcus felt his blood turn cold.

"Talking in your sleep. Strange stuff. Names I've never heard, places that don't exist. Last week you spent twenty minutes having a conversation with someone named Aldric about oil prices and something called 'formal script.'"

Marcus felt the room spinning slightly. His two worlds were bleeding together in ways he hadn't realized. "I... that's just dreams. Stress dreams."

"Stress dreams about medieval economics?" Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Because that's what it sounded like. Specific medieval economics."

Jake leaned forward, his expression serious. "Marcus, I'm pre-med too. I know what academic stress looks like, and this isn't it. This is something else. Are you using drugs? Stimulants to stay awake? Sleeping pills that are giving you weird dreams?"

"I'm not using drugs."

"Then what? Because something is wrong, and we're not going to sit here and watch you destroy your future."

Marcus looked between his two roommates. Jake with his genuine concern and medical textbooks, Tyler with his gaming setup and surprisingly insightful questions. These were good friends who cared about him, and he was lying to them about the most fundamental aspect of his existence.

"I..." Marcus started, then stopped. How could he explain that he was living a completely separate life in a medieval fantasy world? That he was more invested in building a soap business with a failing merchant than in his organic chemistry labs?

His phone buzzed with a text message. His mother.

*Called your advisor today. She says you're missing classes and assignments. Call me immediately. - Mom*

"Oh no," Marcus whispered.

"What now?" Jake asked.

"My mom talked to my academic advisor."

Tyler winced. "That's not good."

Marcus's phone immediately started ringing. His mother's contact photo filled the screen. A picture from last Christmas where she was smiling proudly next to him in his first-semester honor roll certificate.

"I have to take this," Marcus said, accepting the call. "Hi, Mom."

"Marcus Chen." His mother's voice was tight with the particular kind of anger that only came when she was deeply disappointed. "Explain to me why your academic advisor says you're failing classes."

"I'm not failing classes," Marcus protested weakly. "Just... struggling with one class."

"Organic chemistry. The class that's required for medical school. The medical school you're supposed to attend so you can become a doctor like we planned."

Jake and Tyler were watching this conversation with fascination and growing concern. Marcus felt trapped between two lives, and both of them were demanding explanations he couldn't give.

"Mom, I can bring my grade up. It's just been a difficult semester."

"Difficult how? You have everything you need. We're paying for your education, your housing, your food. Your only job is to study and get good grades. How is that difficult?"

Marcus felt a surge of frustration. If only she knew about his actual job. Working at medieval night jobs after spending all day learning to read formal script and building a business that might save his family from poverty in another world entirely.

"I've just been exploring other interests," Marcus said carefully.

"Other interests?" His mother's voice went up an octave. "Other interests like what?"

"Business. Entrepreneurship. I'm not sure medicine is the right path for me."

The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening. Jake and Tyler exchanged worried looks.

"Marcus," his mother said finally, her voice dangerously calm, "your father and I immigrated to this country with nothing. We worked every day for eighteen years to give you the opportunities we never had. The opportunity to become a doctor, to have a respected profession, to never worry about money the way we worried."

"I know that, but..."

"There are no buts. You will fix your grades, you will focus on your studies, and you will stop this nonsense about 'other interests.' Do I make myself clear?"

"Mom..."

"Do I make myself clear?"

Marcus felt the weight of his parents' expectations, their sacrifices, their dreams for his future. And underneath that, the knowledge that in Valdris, his family was depending on him to build something that could lift them out of poverty and desperation.

"Yes," he said quietly. "You make yourself clear."

"Good. I expect your grades to improve immediately. If they don't, we'll be having a different conversation about your future."

The call ended, leaving Marcus staring at his phone while Jake and Tyler looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and alarm.

"Okay," Jake said after a long moment. "That sounded intense."

"My parents don't understand the concept of academic exploration," Marcus said, trying to make light of it.

"Academic exploration is one thing," Tyler pointed out. "Failing your core classes is another. Marcus, you need to get your shit together."

"I know."

"Do you? Because it seems like you're living in some kind of fantasy world where you can ignore your responsibilities and everything will work out fine."

If Tyler only knew how literally accurate that assessment was.

Jake stood up and moved to his desk, pulling out a planner and several textbooks. "Here's what we're going to do. We're going to create a study schedule that gets you caught up in organic chemistry. We're going to make sure you attend every single lab session from now on. And we're going to figure out whatever is going on with you."

"You don't need to..."

"Yes, we do," Tyler interrupted. "Because we're your friends, and friends don't let friends throw away their futures for... whatever this is."

Marcus looked at the study materials Jake was arranging, the concerned faces of his roommates, his phone still displaying his mother's last text message. Everything in his real world was falling apart while he focused on his medieval life.

But in Valdris, his soap was curing in Aldric's basement. His business partnership was developing. His family was depending on the income he would generate. He couldn't abandon that responsibility either.

"Okay," Marcus said finally. "Let's make a study schedule."

But even as he said it, he knew the real problem wasn't time management or study habits. The real problem was that he was trying to live two lives simultaneously, and both of them were demanding more than he could give.

As Jake began outlining a plan for catching up on missed assignments and Tyler offered to quiz him on chemistry concepts, Marcus found himself overwhelmed by an unexpected wave of emotion. These two people. His friends. Were willing to drop everything to help him succeed. They didn't know about his double life, his medieval responsibilities, or the pressures he faced in Valdris. All they knew was that someone they cared about was struggling, and they were determined to help.

In Valdris, he'd been so focused on survival and business that he'd almost forgotten what it felt like to have people care about him purely because of friendship. Jake and Tyler weren't getting anything out of helping him. No profit, no advancement, no political advantage. They were just being good friends.

Marcus realized he'd been so caught up in his fantasy world responsibilities that he'd been neglecting the people who mattered to him in this world. His parents had sacrificed everything to give him opportunities. His friends were willing to sacrifice their own time to help him succeed. And he'd been taking all of it for granted.

"Thank you," Marcus said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "Both of you. I... I haven't been a good friend lately. I've been selfish and distracted, and you guys still care enough to help me."

"Of course we care," Jake said simply. "That's what friends do."

"Yeah," Tyler agreed. "Besides, if you fail out, who's going to listen to me complain about my streaming metrics?"

Marcus laughed despite himself, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. He still had to balance his responsibilities in both worlds, but at least now he understood that both worlds had people who cared about him. That was worth fighting for.

Something was going to have to give. But maybe, with help from his friends, he could find a way to honor his commitments in both worlds without losing himself in the process.