The Girl Who Would Be Second Best

After an evening of chatting, I learned a bit more about the triop that I was now adventuring with. Mainly, that Rionriv was the only one really interested in school, which was why Sharzin and Aesandoral went along with it. She hoped to learn every magic in the world, which was, frankly, a tall order.

It also wasn’t that Aesandoral hated school, she just preferred a more physical education. This was a result of her very active upbringing. And, as a bonus during this discussion, I learned that Rionriv was her sister. While their relationship wasn’t biological, they had been together since they were toddlers. Not much more was said on the topic, but that explained their closeness and the sensitivity around the orphan statement.

This kind of made me feel like an ass.

As for Sharzin, she was still an enigma. Her responses to questioning were short, deflective, and unhelpful. It also didn’t do me any favours that she disappeared every five minutes to gods knows where in the smallest room in the world.

Another thing became clear as I watched most of them fumble horribly and drop many of the strange World Eighty-Two objects in my room. Those who were dextrous were physically weak, and those without notable reflexes were even weaker. And, as all tabletop gamers knew, a weak party was doomed to be defeated by the single most dangerous thing in any fantasy world: a door.

This was why I invited the triop to begin joining me at the gym before classes every day going forward. And, needless to say, the first day was rough.

The only one who seemed eager and ready to take part was Aesandoral, while the other two were half asleep and grumpy. Though that last one was just Rionriv, and it, apparently, didn’t matter the time of day.

Meeting up on the Rag-Tag Field, I eyed their traditional Esserian gym wear, which was nothing more than a cotton unitard that looked closer to a slightly tailored potato sack. And while I wasn’t one to judge fashion, this look clashed with my ye olde custom Lich House basketball shorts and t-shirt that I had picked up with some employee credit.

“I thought we were exercising, not showing off new fashions.” Rionriv scoffed at my clothes

“What are you even talking about?” I bounced back and looked down at myself. “Where I’m from, I’d be called a slob.”

“And where’s that from again?”

Crap! Damn it, Rionriv.

“Erm—hey, if you wanted new clothes, we could pick some up for you from Phyllis. Employee discount and all that.”

“Slick.” Rionriv crossed her arms as she spotted my diversion. “Okay, what are we doing today? What is this place?”

“It’s—wait, have you seriously never been to the gym?”

“No, why would I come here. My strength comes from my magic.”

Rubbing at my face, I sighed before continuing.

“Well, today, we’re going to learn about the magic of muscles. Eventually, we’ll be fighting in magically unstable areas, and I need to be sure we can all march and climb without magic. So, let’s start with some stretches, a light jog, and then move into some upper body training.”

Walking onto the Rag-Tag field, I positioned us off to the side so as not to disrupt the current early morning practice going on. The space was roughly the size of a high school football field with a running track around the exterior.

Personally, I found it gave me a weird sensation of anxiety as high school gym classes held a special spot in my memory bank of nightmares. This was why I typically didn’t do my cardio here, but for a group of four, this was better than running around campus for exercise.

Circling up on the grass, I began doing some simple stretches. I touched my toes, lunged forward, and warmed my arms. It wasn’t until a few minutes into my mobility exercises that I realized my colleagues hadn’t joined in.

Somewhere in the distance, Phyllis screamed for me to reprimand my employees. So, I decided to be better than she would.

“What’s up, you guys—erm, ladies?”

“What are you doing?” Aesandoral asked with a giggle.

“Stretching?”

“Why?”

“Try being in your mid-thirties and doing anything without a good stretch. It’s a great habit to get into while you’re young.”

“You’re so weird, you know that?” Rionriv added before plopping onto the grass nearby and mimicking my movements.

Taking some time out of the day’s training, I explained in better detail why I was doing particular stretches. Unfortunately, this was not my area of expertise, but I did at least know a few things about what parts of the body each one worked.

Finally, at the end of it, we stood, freshly limber, and brushing the grass from our clothes. That was when, from the corner of my eye, I watched as the three coeds patted each other down.

Thuh-thump! Thuh-thump! Thuh-thump!

My heart began to race and, instantly, my face heated. Turning with a start, I looked down at my restless buddy anxiously. Having teenage hormones again sucked!

No, no. Phyllis, why did you even put those thoughts in my head? I thought as I adjusted my basketball shorts to no avail.

“What now?” Aesandoral asked as she approached from behind.

Crap!

“We run!” I yelped, sprinting away with a start. “Let’s say three miles?!”

I began running my laps, expecting to be the fastest in the group. A thought that was wrong.

The first to catch up to me was Rionriv, who ran at my pace for a few moments. She appeared to be barely exerting any energy before, but with a clap of thunder, she pulled ahead and began to push herself.

“No magic!” I yelled after her, fiddling with my ringing ears. “Just muscles, Rionriv!”

“Don’t mind her,” Aesandoral said as she caught up with me a moment later. She slowed her speed to match mine. “Rionriv just likes to be first, which is fine. Second place always appealed more to me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, doing my best to make the running conversation seem as easy for me as it did for her.

Aesandoral took the time to confide in me a little about how she constantly strived for second place. She explained that, initially, it had been to secretly make herself unfit as an heir to follow in her mother’s stead. The goal had been to be simply average and ultimately shirk her responsibilities.

Another nail that I had hit right on the head.

But after a time, she realized that it was much harder to be in second place than it was to be in first. So, with every competition, she strived to never be better or worse than second. And, after a while, it became second nature to her.

I nodded as we entered our second mile, and while I wasn’t exhausted, it was tiring watching how easily Aesandoral ran and spoke.

“I understand,” I said, attempting to relate to her struggles of wanting to pass on royal duty.

Hell, I understood.

“It’s like where I was from—” Beginning to explain, I slowed from running to a jog. “I was always told to be number one at everything I did. So, I strived for that, even in noncompetitive play. Heh—there was this game I played with my friends, with these little plumbers, princesses, and dinosaurs racing in go-karts. I was pretty good and always got first, but after a while, no one wanted to play with me because of it. So, instead, I learned how to play to position my friends in a winning place. I called it ‘protect the president,’ and you’re right—it’s much harder to remain in second place than to take first and run with it.”

Aesandoral’s eyes locked on me as I told the story, and I could see my words reaching her. She was getting it, or at least I hoped, because if we were going to survive the coming war, I needed everyone to be at the top of their game. No second-bests on this team!

“It wasn’t until several years later,” I continued. “When I went to race against actual competitors that I had to learn once again to fight for first. But I failed, time and again, because I had done a disservice to myself all those years. You do no favours hindering yourself for others. Believe in yourself, Aesandoral. If you can be number one, then do it!”

“I’m sorry,” She apologized, giving her head a shake. “I’m still on the plumber and princess part. And what’s a goat-art?”

Right, video games aren’t a thing here…and she’s kind of dumb.

“Forget about that stuff. What I’m trying to say is that you’re not doing yourself any favours by not striving to overachieve in the things you naturally excel at. Trust me. Put the effort in, push past your limits, and be authentically you. Today, you’re young; one day, you’ll thank yourself for these years when you truly learned who you are. Live with no rag-rets, you know?”

“Rag…rets?”

Right, there also aren’t memes here. Crap, how am I going to get these kids to stand and deliver if I can’t connect with them?

“Passing through,” Rionriv shouted as she sprinted past us. “Come on, lazies. Stop flirting and put in some effort!”

“What? I’m just—” Aesandoral huffed with flushed cheeks before rushing away from me. “Rionriv, you get back here!”

And off they went at a speed I had no chance of catching.