* Near Death, Zero Experience

*

After separating myself from the beautiful fantasy pick-up group and disappearing deep enough into the campus to escape their gazes, it was time to move on to the next task of the day. With my early-morning exercise having gotten more exciting than expected, my stomach now growled hungrily. It loudly alerted me to the fact that it was displeased with the lack of food thus far. So, after finding a particularly tasty-looking café, I ducked in for a ye olde club sandwich and cup of what this world called coffee, which was closer to watered-down dandelion root tea.

Taking my meal up to the second-level balcony, I enjoyed my breakfast while washing it down with the coffee. After a sip of the liquid, I glanced down at my scabbed-over wounds, poking them curiously. I withdrew one of my healing potions and examined it. It looked exactly like the others, but I knew looks could be deceiving. So, popping the cork, I dipped a pinky into the liquid before pulling it back to my face. With a faint sniff, I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, so I moved on to the next stage of testing and stuck the pinky into my mouth. Licking it gently, I felt the faint tingle of carbonation against the tip of my tongue and a barely noticeable itch against my gums.

Nodding at the evidence gathered from the bottle, I topped up my coffee with a splash of healing potion before taking a particularly big gulp. I lifted my shirt and glanced over the wounds from the previous battle, watching as the scabs darkened and peeled away. I marvelled once more over the miracle of the magical healing of elixirs. Deep gashes and thick scabs were healed instantly, smoothed over without scarring, as though they had never happened. The pains internally that I had been feeling, like the bruised rib, dented skull, and barely functional bowels, no longer felt tender.

In an instant, I was back up to optimal fighting conditions.

Earth could sure use these, especially since a little goes a long way. But I guess that’s why they wouldn’t have it. Someone would just patent it and sell it at a ludicrous price that only millionaires could afford.

Giving my head a shake, I could feel one of those depressing memories trying to break through the dam. As my heart raced and I attempted to calm it with soft, well-paced breaths, a thought flashed into my mind that I couldn't quite explain.

I wish I could have had magical healing for— But I didn't know who. I could see the picture on my dresser. That turned down photo with dust. I had no idea who they were, but something made me miss them. Made me wish I had magical healing then.

"Gah..." I muttered, grabbing at my chest with a trembling hand as I stared at the empty bottle of potion. "I should learn a healing spell or two. I am a cleric after all, and God knows when I'll grab a dud potion at the wrong time—"

A startled shriek from below caught my attention, pulling me away from the tiptoeing I did around my memories. Quickly peeking my head over the balcony, I watched a Second Year with fiery red hair and traditional adventurer's clothing running away from an intersection. Behind her, a pair of corgsquitoes chased, their bellies empty and stance revealing an aggressive hunger.

“Well, time to get back to work,” I muttered to myself, putting the coffee down and raising the quarterstaff to my shoulder. “These bad bugs aren’t gonna bonk themselves, after all.”

With a cocky attitude, half confidence in myself and the other half running away from the painful memories that threatened my sanity, I jumped from the balcony to the road. I landed like a hero with three points of contact on the road to the rear of the bugs and smirked as though I was in a video game. And, as I prepared for a theatrical reveal of my face, the hero of my own story, confident with myself and my capabilities after a week of killing vermin, I suddenly felt a blast of hot, foul breath rush over me.

It wasn't the buzz of corsquito wings or the rotten hiss of ratdogs but a heavy huff that tussled my white hair and plastered my scalp with a thick mucus. My vision shifted to the red snap bracelet that was fixed around the first of a half dozen thick, leathery legs. I eyed the razor-sharp obsidian claws that stretched several inches out from the meaty paws of dull grey flesh.

I gulped nervously before slowly looking up at the snout of the massive creature that had rounded the corner behind me. It was not a bug, spider, or ratdog. Nor was it a piece of living armour, sword, or campus experiment gone rogue. The creature before me was not cute, cuddly, small or any other word to describe something easily squashed by young adults. What I looked at now was a monster. A bona fide beast that, without a doubt, would kill me.

What snarled in my direction and stared down at me hungrily was a basilisk.

“Oh—crap,” I muttered nervously, my heart racing as I attempted to maintain a certain air of confidence.

Confidence. Something that shrank by the second as my knees began to tremble and I felt myself teetering towards the line of collapsing.

“Sh-she was running from you, hu-huh?”

A sinister, twisted smile crossed the monster's face as it reared back excitedly. I jumped away in an instant as two heavy paws swiped for me. Flicking my staff in response, I managed to deflect the first. A loud snapping sound caused my stomach to drop as the flimsy wood of my weapon, which had been good for squashing vermin, snapped easily under the pressure of the blow. The hit spun me as the second strike cut across my gut. Claws like honed daggers ripped open my gut as I instinctively grabbed at the tatters of cloth and flesh.

“AGH!! Again?!” I cursed, stumbling as I rushed away from the beast, hand on my bloody belly that spilled my thick red essence over the cobble streets for the second time today.

Reaching into my bag, I fumbled out a healing potion and popped the cork. I hoisted it to my lips before feeling another strike knock me forward. With a reflexive fling, the bottle escaped my grasp, flying ahead of me where it shattered against the street. I watched as magic wafted from the now-defunct potion as it expended its only usage.

Shit! That was a good one!

But I wasn’t given a chance to properly mourn the loss of my money as, within seconds, sharp teeth clamped down around my ankle, pulling my feet out from under me.

I tumbled to the ground, where my head hit the pavement in an audible crack! But my world didn’t fade to black quite yet. Instead, I watched through wobbling vision and points of light as the beast reared its head up for a second bite.

Its maw bit into my left thigh and, instantly, I felt a pulse of burning precede the heavy numbness that raced from the wound in all directions. Gently pivoting my head, I watched in real time as what I knew to be happening came true—

The basilisk venom was turning me to stone.

Staring in frozen horror as the six legs of the creature climbed over me, approaching the top of my body, the realization that there was nothing I could do began to sink in.

No. No. No. No. No. The word played on repeat in my mind.

The beast's eyes stared into mine before it adjusted to sniff at my head. Its massive jaw opened moments later, and I could feel its sharp teeth beginning to grip around my skull.

“Not this way,” I cried out as the stone reached my lungs, and the last of the air fled my lips.

As my final moments came to pass, I watched through the teeth of the monster at the quickly darkening sky above. With a clap of thunder, a bolt of lightning arced toward me, as I felt the stone finally take my mind, and the darkness consumed me.

—ooo—

I was tired. My body was fatigued from the strain. At the age of ten, almost eleven, I was the newest member of my middle school volleyball team. And, so far, I had been playing the entire game and had even scored five of the eight points our school had.

It wasn’t like I really wanted to play, but I had seen how proud my parents were of my sister when she did. She was the top of her high school team and the captain of her travelling league. But now, with her away at college, I didn’t have her accolades as the happiness buffer between my parents and me anymore. So, if she or my brothers did something bad from the safety of their universities, I would get in trouble for it.

This meant that if I wanted to keep my parents happy, I needed to be more like the rest of my family. More like my athletic siblings. So, in addition to receiving the best grades in every class, because that was expected of me, I now also had to become the best athlete on the court, or field, or wherever I played.

“Tahvin, switch out.” The coach called, and I happily returned to the bench with the rest of my waiting classmates.

Sitting, I drank from my water bottle, which had warmed up from sitting in the baking sun. The taste of plastic tainted my taste buds as I gagged.

“Tahvin.” A stern voice whispered in my ear.

A hand grabbed my arm, yanking me to face the person who had spoken. It was my Mom, and she appeared disappointed.

“What are you doing?” She scolded.

“The coach told me to sit,” I responded, confused. “Did you see me score those points?”

“You’ve only won five rallies. You didn't even get a single service ace. That is nothing to be proud of. You get back out there and don’t embarrass us. Your team is relying on you and your good genetics.”

“I’m tired, though. I need a break, Mom. My legs are hurting—”

She tugged me closer, her words becoming sharp and venomous. The smell of mid-afternoon wine hung on her breath as she hissed.

“I don’t care if you’re gushing blood from your leg. You wrap it up and keep playing. If you need to vomit, do it somewhere out of sight and get back on the court. You’re an Echebarriscoa, damn it! You do not show weakness. You show everyone that you don’t need help—that you’re a winner. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mom.”

She took the bottle from me and pointed slyly towards the coach.

“Now go and insist you get put back in. Go!”

Tears began to form in my eyes as I turned and marched my way back to the front of the bench. I would prove myself to both Mom and Dad. I needed to show them I could be like my sister. Like my brothers. That I didn’t need help.

—ooo—

“Ahhhh!” I screamed wildly as the nightmare woke me with a start.

My voice echoed through the marble hall of the familiar medical ward as I sat up quickly and pulled my knees to my chest. Without prompting them, tears flowed from my eyes, draining down my cheeks and soaking my shirt. My body trembled uncontrollably in response to the memory, worse than any I'd had in a while.

Wh-what the h-hell? I thought as I grabbed at my arm where my mother had just held.

The memory was so fresh that I could taste the plastic in my mouth, feel the warmth of the bench against my exhausted legs. And, as I shook violently, I tightened the hold I had on my knees.

Two in one day? That's—Man, I need to stop almost dying.

I thought about the dream, my breathing slowed, the race of my heart slowly but surely returning to normal. The quakes that took my body began to subside as I started to think more rationally about the dream.

Volleyball is a team sport. I reminded myself. I shou—no, she shouldn't have been pushing me to do the job of everyone on the team. I did nothing wrong there. Nothing. Those memories, they don't control me. They...my parents, they don't control me.

Then, I began to wonder about my training on campus. I was still going it alone, taking on vermin traps and, most recently, monsters that were not meant to be soloable. Adventuring was a team sport. I had written it into Esseria that way, but I had still been doing it all by myself. Decades since that memory, and in another world, that trauma was still running my life. And I could say it was so I didn't affect the story, but even I knew there were people here who didn't have anything to do with the world's narrative.

My thoughts flashed to the two girls who had fought beside me before the basilisk. And, while I may never get the chance to see them again, they showed me that there were randoms in this cosmos that I could lean on.

"Okay," I whispered to myself, the trembling having finally died down enough that I could rest my feet on the floor. "I need a team. Like Phyllis said. A group of misfits that'll follow me, no questions asked."

But first...I need to get discharged. Where's Abby?

Usually, Nurse Abby was usually present and monitoring the students. She and I had grown quite close over the recent week, seeing as I was brought in a lot. But currently, it seemed that I was alone.

Looking myself over for a moment, I did the basic confirmation that I was in one piece before standing and reaching for the edge of the bed. Accustomed to the process, I grabbed for the small clipboard and glanced at my chart.

Yep, that was a basilisk that got me. I thought to myself, as the memories flowed back. The rooftop, the hero landing, and the basilisk attack.

Flipping the sheet, I looked over the intake form, noticing a name. A familiar name. A Second Year student who had brought me into the infirmary on two separate occasions, now.

Rionriv Singlemoon. Did you drag my petrified ass all the way here, again? With no Sharzin this time? Wait...Sharzin—what are the chances that the groundling girl with the elf who’s name was—was...shit. Goddamn over complicated names.

“What are you doing up?” Nurse Abby cried out as she approached.

Quickly putting the chart down, I looked over at the long white gown of the approaching woman as she continued her lecture. “You should be resting, Mister Ishara.”

“Sorry, I woke up and was confused,” I said, sitting back on the bed. “But I think I’m all better, Nurse Abby.”

Stepping up to me, the nurse placed a hand on my cheek and looked into my eyes intently. She muttered an incantation under her breath, and as she did, her gaze flashed a snowy white. A sudden cool sensation from her fingertips crept through my body as she caressed my cheek. Then, a moment later, as her eyes returned to normal, she removed her hand and crossed her arms.

“You do appear to be better, so I’ll clear you to leave the infirmary, but I recommend another day or two of rest. You were on the edge of petrified life and death for nearly a week after all. You're lucky we found all your stone bits, lest you'd be missing an ear or a piece of your brain!”

Holy crap, a week?! I missed a week of training—damn it!

“Okay, I will do that. Thank you!” I turned from the nurse and began to rush out.

“Goodbye, Mister Ishara,” The nurse called after me. “Be careful. I don’t want to see you back here again!—And for the love of the Emerald Pantheon! Fix your student identification badge!”

“Yeah, I-I’ll do my best, thanks!” I said, yelling back with a wave before exhaling a shallow breath, and rushing from the hall.

Flinging open the door to flee, I stopped in my tracks.

Standing before me were three figures. A familiar elf-groundling duo with another—a woman of fiery red hair and deep mocha skin.