The F Ranked Journey (BL)

Lars POV:

Dreams are a funny thing. One must dream to feel alive, sure, but sometimes the dreams are too big.

 One could say that my dreams were irrational. How could someone who is twenty kilograms above the weight limit afford to dream about becoming an adventurer? And not only that, but get a rank which is higher than F?

That had never stopped me before, but on this crisp April morning, my feet planted on the soft and moist lush grass, I felt... doubt.

Not because I did bad at the written test, or because I couldn't heal my patient, an unfortunate prisoner, who had been chosen as a guinea pig for us wannabes healers, but because there was a curveball, which I never suspected would be thrown at me.

I had to run.

 An entire kilometer, and not just with a light jog, but at full speed. My hands were on my knees, and I just stared at the finish line. It was not like the finish line was too far away, no.

And yet, I knew I wouldn't even be in the middle of the group. The other adventurers were all fit, well, for the most part.

There were a couple of Halflings among them, and not just that, but there was also a thin boy. My medical sense screamed at me that I was seeing someone at the brink of starvation.

I couldn't stop staring at the boy. He had dark lush hair, shoulder-length and curly. Maybe he could have been handsome if his cheeks weren't so sunken. In contrast, I looked like a beach ball. It also didn't help that I was on the short side.

With a loud exhalation, I went slowly to my backpack. We wouldn't be running for a couple of minutes more. I didn't know if my goodwill would be well received.

 It was seldom seen as anything that could help others. Most people just looked at my fat deposits and thought that I must do something illegal to keep them.

And how could they not think that? We lived in Lergo, a land which was almost destroyed by the holy war. Fat people normally did illegal things, to keep the fat deposits.

I was no different.

As I reached my backpack, I took out my sandwich box, and then looked at the boy once more. It was not a special sandwich, or anything. Just bread, salami, a bit of salad, and just a tiny bit of cheese, to glue everything together.

Still, the boy needed the energy more than I did. And if he spat in my face, then that was also ok. My mother had always told me that food should be given to those in need. It was our duty to God and the Saints.

With slow steps, I neared the boy. He was sitting on the grass, his lower lip between his teeth. I could see that he would not be able to get up.

"Hello, my name is Lars," I neared him, and smiled. Many have told me that my smile was one of the few things which were beautiful about me. The other thing was my eyes. Blue, like the sky after a storm, or so my mother more than once told me. "Would you like to keep me company during the lunch break?"

We were in no lunch break. It was just that, I couldn't think of anything else.

"I just ate," his stomach growled, as if it wanted to berate him about the lie. I knew that he won't accept my pity.

He was not the only one who could lie, however.

"I am on a diet and can't eat the entire sandwich. It is a new development, so I am still not used to making myself smaller portions," diets didn't work for me, and I was certain that I should stay clear from them. The thing was, that I didn't believe that I would pass the test anyway. My lie would never be found out.

Just because I wouldn't be able to pass, didn't mean that I didn't want this boy to pass. He was thin, yes, but with a bit of energy he could run the distance.

Maybe I was too optimistic, but I just wanted to help someone, before I ended up in a mist of self-pity, later today, a box of ice cream in one hand, and a spoon in the other.

Story of my life.

"Then, I guess I can help," he patted the grass next to him, and I sat down. As I broke a tiny bit from the sandwich, I felt warm inside. Who could blame me? I was just 15 years old and didn't get to share a meal with someone often. The most people didn't want to stay by me.

Maybe that was my fault, maybe not. It was not like the most people had an illegal herb and potion's ingredient garden, which could offer them a life comfortable enough, to get fat.

"My name is Nate," the boy said, as he took the bigger half of the sandwich. I could see that his eyes were already big, like saucers. And not only that, but he had a dreamy smile on his face.

"And in which class do you specialize?" I wanted to keep the conversation going because I was hungry as well. The problem with exams like this one was that you didn't have an opportunity to eat between the examinations.

First there was the written exam, which I found so easy that I doubt I made any mistakes in it. Then the healing exam, where I managed to bring a fish from the brink of death.

It was about two in the afternoon now, and I ate breakfast at five in the morning. The only thing I hoped for was that my stomach wouldn't betray me.

"I... which class? I...," he stopped eating, and looked at his feet. No class? And he still wanted to take the exam? That was just... sad.

"Hand to hand, maybe?" I asked him. He continued to stare at his feet.

"More like running from a battle, Mr. Piggy!" ah, so now the old nickname was in use again? I thought that with the exams behind me, it would finally become a part of the past.

"I can fight hand to hand, yes," said Nate, as he glared at the boy, who called me Mr. Piggy. "And I don't see anything wrong with that."

Nate's fighting spirit was not broken. At that moment, as the nameless boy snorted, and looked at his friends, I knew that Nate would make it.

 Maybe his gusto was infectious because I started to eat my half of the sandwich as well.

A bit of energy might do me good.

It is always inspiring when someone can hold their own. Yes, perhaps I had no chances, but that was something I didn't consider back then.

No, the only thing I had in mind was that I wanted to cross the finish line and get in a party with Nate. People who stood up for me had this effect on me.