Reena joined Ned for dinner at his house, she does that sometimes. "Noble food is boring," she says. A privileged thought, I would say. As Reena and his mom were chatting about school, Ned drifted off thinking about a lot of things.
The world has never been kind to Ned Forester, and as he stared at the flickering, blood-hungry watch on his wrist, he realized it wasn't about to start now. The stupid contraption had just saved his life in the most absurd way possible, and now it felt like it was mocking him.
"Training arc, here I come," he muttered dramatically, slumping back in his chair. His mother looked up from the pot of soup she was stirring. It smelled like sadness, with a hint of overcooked lentils.
"What was that, sweetie?" she asked, oblivious to her son's existential crisis.
"I'm leaving," he announced, standing up with the grace of someone trying to look cooler than they felt. "I've got two months to prove I'm not a failure. Don't wait up."
His father, lounging in his usual drunken stupor on the couch, let out a snort. "Two months, huh? Plenty of time to learn how to fail more creatively."
Ned rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the pep talk, Dad."
Reena, who had been visiting and sitting awkwardly at the corner of the table, raised an eyebrow. "Where are you even going, Ned? You can't just leave school. Final evaluation's coming up, and you're already behind."
"Exactly why I'm leaving!" he said, pointing a dramatic finger at the ceiling. It… didn't have the intended effect. His mom just squinted at the crack in the plaster he'd pointed out.
"School's optional for the next two months," Ned continued, floundering. "You know, to give students time to train and improve. I'm… taking advantage of that opportunity."
Reena didn't look convinced. "You're not even Level 1 yet. How are you going to train on your own? Aren't you going with one of those mercenary groups the school organizes?"
Ned hesitated. He'd already rehearsed this in his head. He gave her his most sincere smile. "Of course! Totally. Yep. Mercenary group. Lots of people. Very organized."
She crossed her arms. "You're lying."
"What? Me? Never!"
She just stared. His mom looked at him, then at Reena, and sighed. "Well, if you're going, at least take some soup with you. It'll keep you warm."
"Warm with disappointment," his father mumbled.
The next morning, Ned packed his bag with the essentials—or what he thought were essentials. A rusty sword, a flask of soup, and a whole lot of misplaced confidence. His mom fussed over him, as moms do, while his dad offered sage advice like, "Don't die,"
Reena, however, was less easy to appease. She cornered him just before he left.
"You're going alone, aren't you?" she said, narrowing her eyes.
Ned froze, the straps of his bag halfway over his shoulder. "What? No! Of course not! That would be reckless and irresponsible and—"
"And exactly what you're doing," she finished for him. "Ned, this is stupid. If something happens to you out there…"
"Nothing's going to happen to me," he said, forcing a grin. "I'm basically invincible. Like a cockroach."
Reena didn't laugh. "You better come back in one piece. And don't forget: you're not as invincible as you think. Level 0, invincible is a farcry"
He patted her on the shoulder, ignoring the lump in his throat. "I'll be fine. Promise."
And with that, he stepped out the door, leaving behind the warmth of home and the safety of familiarity. The wilderness awaited, and for better or worse, so did his destiny.
Ned walked down the path leading out of the city, the watch on his wrist humming softly, almost as if it were laughing at him. He didn't look back.