The Lesser One Chapter 8: Field Exam

Field Exam

After fifteen minutes of hard hiking, I am just barely managing to keep up with the group. We whack through dense underbrush, ford rapids, and climb steep hills that seem to never end. The trail, at times, is barely visible—on purpose, it seems. Every time we get lost, all we have to do is remember a trick we learned last class and we’re back on track. Direction of moss, animal prints, deer trails and all that. Through my anima vision, I can tell that the whole place is, in fact, very well-kept. All the obstacles have been placed, painstakingly, by examiners.  

Still, it is tough going. I keep pace, but it’s wearing me down. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle anything longer than an hour.

Esla looks at her watch, standing about a meter in front of me. “It’s been sixteen minutes. At this rate I think we’ll make it.”

“Not if what’s up ahead has anything to say about it,” says Corbin, from the front of the group. He has stopped.

We gather around him, staring into the maw of a ravine that stretches as far as the eye can see to the right and left, and is at least twenty meters wide at our standing position.

Corbin leans on his steel spirit tool. “How are we going to get across this?”

“We didn’t learn anything about ravine crossing last class,” I say.

Esla tilts her head and shrugs. “Not that I can remember.”

“I think this is a test,” says Koen, her face deadly serious. “Bossman wants us to get across this ravine using a combination of our powers.”

This is the first time I’ve really heard her speak. Her tone is less burly than I expected from her appearance. She sounds like a high school girl. I don’t know what I was expecting from her, but it wasn’t this.

Maybe I should stop judging people based on their appearance.

Koen points to an outcropping of rock on the other end of the ravine. “Do you think we can make it across if we attach, like, a rope to that?” she says.

Esla shrugs. “We don’t have anyone with a power who can reach it,” she says. “If we had someone who could throw a lasso or fly, that would work.”

Koen looks like she wants to say something, but does not.

“Hrm,” says Mattys. “I might be able to do something about this.” He rubs his hands together, cracking his neck.

Corbin nods, his arms crossed. “Let’s see it.”

“Hwa!” yells Mattys, planting his hands on the edge of the ravine. A sheet of ice shoots out, spreading across the open air. The sound of crunching snow and tinkling icicles bounces around. A freezing chill rises from the ground and forms crystal snowflakes that meander back down towards the soil beneath us.

In front of us is a bridge made of ice. Within seconds, it is crumbling, falling apart completely in less time than it took to make.

“Well,” says Koen. “That didn’t work.”

Mattys shrugs. “I guess my ice spirit isn’t exactly suited for this. It’s all about movement, after all.”

“Let me try,” says Koen, seeming to make a decision. “My bamboo probably won’t make it across, but it would be strong enough if it did.” She places her hands against the soil at the edge of the ravine.

Bamboo coils around the edge of the ravine on our side. Reaching out, it flows towards the opposite cliff face in a mess of growing, tangled leaves.

The bamboo sags less than a third of the way across. At this point, it won’t make it.

“How about you try twisting the bamboo pieces, like rope?” I say, as the bamboo reaches its breaking point.

“Hm,” says Koen, her expression changing to one of thoughtfulness. “You mean like this?”

The bamboo coils around itself and instead of reaching out straight, it forms a suspension-bridge like structure that grows forward at a quickening pace. Just as the bamboo is about to snap, it contacts the other edge. The tips of the grown bamboo spear the wall and wrap around the rocky outcropping. Puffs of dirt and rock explode from where the bamboo has pierced the granite.

“Huh,” says Koen. “You can be useful after all.”

I shrug. “Your spirit doesn’t say everything about you.”

Koen snorts, though she seems more amused than anything. She stands up and brushes her hands on her pants.

“So?” she says, pointing a thumb towards the new bridge. “Shall we cross?”

“Just a moment,” says Mattys. He claps his hands together. “My powers don’t limit me to making things slipperier.” He moves his hands in a round circle and a bale ice forms in his hands. “Since you experimented first, it’s my turn next.” He rolls the bale like a bowling ball, sending it floating across the bridge, leaving behind a layer of ice. The rope bridge gains a sandpapery texture. It’s counterintuitive, and probably won’t work in any natural situation, but my anima vision has no problem with it.

“It’s going to be easier to grip now,” he says. “Don’t worry about how it works.”

I make eye contact with everyone in the group. “Well, then, since I’m the least valuable member here, I might as well go first.”

Esla shakes her head. “You’re not—“

Corbin holds his hand out in front of her. “Let him be humble. At the very least, he knows that he can’t really be of much physical help. Though I have to commend him for the idea of twisting Koen’s bamboo like a rope. That alone proves that he is useful.”

I share a thankful glance with Corbin. Truthfully, I don’t really mean it when I say things like that, but my own uselessness has really started grating on me lately. I’m starting to understand how Dr. Barrimore feels.

With a careful start, I walk across the bamboo-ice bridge. The ice is just sandpapery enough to keep me from falling off either edge of the smooth bamboo.

“Yeah! You can do it, Markus!” yells Esla, from the starting position.

I’m halfway through. My heart is beating like a drum and I feel a sense of vertigo coming on. The rapids down below are a lot further than I thought they would be. I feel isolated, like I’ll trip and fall at any moment.

The bamboo shifts. A popping noise starts up beneath me. If I had been more athletic, if I had a higher dexterity stat, I would have stayed upright.

But as it is, my foot slips, my body goes out of balance, and I tumble over the edge. As I grasp for the bamboo, my wrist hits a beam and cracks. I spin out of control and land in the water a couple of seconds later. I can’t see anything. The world is roiling liquid, muddy silt and white-water rapids. I can’t seem to get my head above water.

A spike of bubble erupts in front of me and Esla appears out of its center. She grabs me by the collar and rips me above the rapids. I take gasping breaths as Esla paddles me to shore.

After dragging me onto the sand beneath the cliff face, she turns upward.

“You guys go ahead!” she yells. She turns to me. “Are you okay?” she asks.

I shake my head, too stunned to think properly. “Leave me,” I say. “I can’t help you.”

“Who cares if you can help me or not,” says Esla. “You’re my classmate. My groupmate. I’ll do what I can for you.”

I cough. “I can’t do anything right. It’s my fault that I fell.”

Esla takes me by the cheeks. She is distressed. “You didn’t choose your abilities,” she says. “And you were made an adventurer for a reason. I don’t know you well, but I know that you are stronger than you think you are.” She stands up, holding out her hand. “Come on. We can climb up this cliff and join the others.”

I try to stand up, but a piercing pain lances through my wrist, my chest, and my heel. I may have broken some things. A lot of things.

Esla sighs, and she grabs me by the sides. She lifts me onto her back and stands up with my arms draped over shoulders. She looks up at the three people remaining on the cliff. “You can cross!” she shouts. “It’s not dangerous! Markus just slipped!”

“You shouldn’t have been able to!” yells Mattys. “I made that bridge extra-clingy!”

Corbin holds his hand in front of Mattys.

“I understand,” Corbin calls out to us. “We’ll cross, finish this, and get you some help.”

Esla nods, holding out a thumbs-up. “You don’t have to!” she yells. “We can find our way out in less than an hour!”

Corbin nods, a serious expression on his face. “If you’re not out by the time the assignment ends, we’re coming back for you.”

Koen seems like she wants to say something—I can tell even from here at the bottom of the ravine. I make eye contact her and do my best to smile, though it’s a little difficult with the pressure my broken rib is putting on my chest.

Koen tilts her head as if to ask, “should I help?”

I shake my head no. Koen nods knowingly. I know that she could produce enough bamboo to allow a functional person to climb back up the ravine, but I am not functional. Esla also can’t climb with me weighing her down. We could arrange something to carry me up, like a system of pulleys or something, but that would cut dangerously into our time limit.

I wave with my good hand. “We’re fine,” I say.

The three above us nod and face the bridge. After two uneventful minutes the three are on the other side of the bridge.

“You can get back up there, too,” I say to Esla.

Esla jostles me. “I’m staying with you. You can’t be left on your own in this state.”

“Thank you,” I say.

Esla doesn’t say anything.

“We’re going on!” yells Corbin, from the other side of the ravine.

Corbin, Mattys, and Koen turn and start towards the end of the course. Just as they are about to disappear behind the rock face, Koen turns to me and nods. I smile as best I can. Then the three of them are gone.

I cough, sending pain shooting through my chest.

“If only we had a healer,” says Esla. “When we get out of here I’ll make sure to get you one.” She looks up at the sky, questioningly. “If this actually happens to count as a dungeon, so the rules may apply.”

Healers can only cure injuries obtained within a dungeon. The place we’re may or may not count as a portal-type dungeon.

I hope it’s the former. I don’t want to waste weeks in a hospital recovering from this.

Esla carries me down the length of the ravine, following the side of the river. The sloping floor is covered in boulders and muddy silt. Several times, Esla stumbles, almost falling. Each time I hurt more than before. I pass in and out of consciousness. I must have received a concussion when I fell.

The ravine’s sides grow shorter, the river wider. The rapids are behind us. The water in front of us flows straight and clean, carrying little bits of driftwood.

We walk out onto a river delta flood plain. Ten meters from the end of the ravine, a lake begins. The opposite side is shrouded in mist. The river water meets the lake water in a churning estuary that sends ripples across the flat, pristine surface.

Esla turns towards the beach that runs alongside the lake. The beach is a strip ten to fifteen meters thick that lies underneath a twenty-meter tall cliff. As the distance from the canyon grows, the cliff lowers to meet the beach.

Esla carries me towards that meeting point. “We’re off the trail,” she says. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to find it again.”

I shake my head. “We’re not going to make it,” I say.

“What,” says Esla. “You want to wait for someone to rescue us?”

I can’t shake my head anymore. It hurts too much.

“Thank you,” I say.

“We’re going to make it,” says Esla. “Whether or not we find the trail again. We’re going to push through. Can you see where the portal is with your anima vision?”

I try my best to cast my anima vision as far as it will go.

“That way,” I point, feeling that the direction is better than all the rest. At least we’ll be going somewhere.

Esla shifts her hold on me. “Then let’s go. I trust your judgement.”

“Aah,” I say, trying my best to stay aware. My vision is doubling. The chirp of birds and the shuffling of tree branches fills my ears. Esla’s breathing is regular and hard. She is struggling to walk while holding me. She is a pretty small person, after all, and I am at least five ten. This must be difficult for her.

I close my eyes and try my best to not vomit. All the shaking is making me dizzy, but I don’t want to tell Esla because she is working hard enough as it is.

I have no concept of the amount of time that passes between my goings in and out of consciousness.

“Esla! Markus!” comes a yell from the forest up ahead, after a seeming eternity. Corbin appears through the bushes, followed by Koen and Mattys. All three of them are breathing heavily, covered in sweat and dirt.

“We came for you,” says Corbin. “Koen caught sight of you guys along the lakeside five minutes ago. We can lead you to the trail.”

“We only have ten minutes left,” says Esla. “I don’t think I can go fast enough to reach the end with Markus on my back.”

“You guys can go without me,” I say. “I don’t want to be the reason that all of you fail.”

“We’re taking you with us,” says Corbin. “That’s final. We can switch up who carries Markus so that none of us get too tired to keep going.”

I am ready to cry. I haven’t experienced friendship like this since my assignment to the job of adventurer. “Thanks,” I say.

“No problem,” says Corbin. “We need to hurry if we’re going to make it.” He leans forward. “Give him to me, Esla,” he says.

Esla transfers me to Corbin’s back. It is a painful transition, and several times blackness threatens to block out my view.

I drift in and out of consciousness. At one point I close my eyes while on Corbin’s back and open them on Mattys’ back.

The exit portal appears ahead of us. With a final spurt of effort, we pass through and are dumped onto the floor of the classroom.

Ms. Bossman is standing in front of the exit, her hands crossed. She takes a sport timer and clicks it.

“Fifty-nine minutes, twenty seconds,” she says. “You made it.” She makes a wry expression. “I assume something happened. Write an expedition report and have it turned in by next Wednesday.” She turns to the rest of the class. “Okay! Group two, get ready!”

Corbin turns to me, a broad smile on his face. “We did it!” he says, grinning.

Esla puts me down—she was carrying me when we went through the exit portal—and approaches Ms. Bossman.

“Markus is injured,” she says. “He fell off a bridge and into a river. I think he has several broken bones and a concussion.”

Ms. Bossman raises an eyebrow. “This course is designed to be as benign as possible.” She kneels down beside me and, with an expert touch, finds all my broken points. “Concussion, fractured wrist, broken ankle, two broken ribs. You are lucky that the classroom expedition environment is T-positive.” She pulls out a company phone.

“Hello?” she says. “Yes, this is Jane. Um hm. I have an injured student. Yes, he was injured inside the test dungeon. Um hm. Thanks. He’ll be up there shortly.” She hangs up, looking at my four group members. “I assume you students carried him all the way through the dungeon?” she says. She appears a little bit amused, though I can tell it’s not because she doesn’t care. “I appreciate the teamwork. That’s the kind of stuff that makes being an adventurer worth it.”

“I’ll carry him up,” says Esla.

Ms. Bossman nods. “Good.” She turns to the class. “Hurry up!” she shouts. “The timer’s going to start if you don’t enter now!”

The next group of five students plunges into the portal.

Ms. Bossman’s lip curls up a bit. She looks at Esla. “Can you handle him?” she says.

“I’ve already carried him at least two miles,” says Esla. “If I couldn’t make it to the healer’s office I wouldn’t be worth the name of adventurer.”

“Thanks,” I say, closing my eyes to keep out the bright light.

We take the elevator and, five minutes later, Esla places me on a cot in the infirmary. The healer—a short, blonde woman with a motherly feel to her—puts her hand on my forehead. A pearl of blue light surrounds me, and all my pain clears up. My thoughts straighten, and a wave of relief flows through my body.

“My, my, you took quite the beating,” says the healer. “I haven’t had to heal this much damage from a classroom in years.”

“It’s all because I’m weak,” I say, my voice bitter.

The nurse shakes her head gently. “No, honey,” she says. “You are as strong as you want to be. Every mistake you live through only makes you stronger.”

I sigh, letting my head rest against the pillow. I close my eyes. The whole scene floats before me. The crackle, the vertigo, the feeling of falling.

I don’t cry, though I am shaken up. Mostly I am just glad that my injuries have been healed.

When I am ready, I open my eyes and get up.

The nurse smiles at me. “All ready to go now?” she says.

I nod. “Thank you.” I get up out of bed and walk out the door. Esla is leaning against the wall outside, in the hallway.

She walks towards me when I step out. She slams her hand against the wall, putting me between herself and it.

“You’re an idiot, you know?” she says. Her eyes are fierce. “I don’t know what you think you know about your powers or your strength, but it was stupid to go over the bridge first. You’re not useless. You have as much potential as anyone else. You’re not just a sacrifice we can throw away.”

I turn my head. “I can’t do anything to help, though.”

“You’re the one who came up with the idea to twist Koen’s bamboo. You’re the reason why we were able to cross that ravine.”

I shake my head. “I don’t—”

Esla slams her other hand against the wall. “You do. Whatever you think of yourself, I think you’re worth having in any party, in any guild. Don’t listen to what those cynical bastards who are in charge say. Doing what they expect you to do will only hurt you.” Esla lowers her head. “I don’t know you very well, but I care about you.” She grins, though it is clear she is about to cry. “I saved you once, I saved you twice, and I’m not going to throw away someone I risked my life for.”

I avert my eyes from her gaze. “The only reason you guys listened to me is because we’re students. No guild would take advice on how to use their powers from me.”

“Then learn,” says Esla. “Get a degree. Get something. If it means putting some fancy letters after your name, then do it. Once people start listening to you, then you’ll understand how much you’re worth.”

I nod. “Okay,” I say. Only then do I notice that Esla is breathing hard, and sweating.

“Do you get it?” says Esla, wiping her forehead. She exhales.

“I get it,” I say. I pause. “Now, can you get off me?” I am smiling a bit.

Esla chuckles. She pulls away. “Don’t tell anyone that I got emotional,” she says. “I have a reputation to uphold.” She turns away, holding up her hand. “Ms. Bossman says you’re free to go for today. Come to class as usual tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll be there.” Even though I’m not feeling up to it, I turn around and head towards Dr. Barrimore’s office.