The F Ranked Journey (BL)

Lars POV:

When Nate was ready to get up, I noticed that he had recovered too fast. I couldn't explain it to myself, but his cheeks looked rosier, and not only that, but he smiled more. Maybe that should have been a hint enough for me, but I was simply a child back then, and didn't pay attention to things that didn't hit me on the nose.

What child was not so at my age?

As the instructor, a man who was built like an ogre, came to us, I held my breath. Mr. Medon had told me, more than once, that I had no chances. He hadn't done it to be mean. No, he was the sort of man who took the death of his students as a personal failure.

It is not like he hasn't attempted to help me, no. More than once we went through difficult exercises, and he showed me everything more than once. He was not someone who would think twice about repeating himself if he needed it.

Now his sight landed on me, and he waved me over. This movement was something, that I have always greeted with enthusiasm. It always means that I will get advice. 

On this fine April afternoon, I just didn't want to hear the advice he had for me. I could already hear his words of wisdom in my brain.

Quit, he would say. You are a healer; you could always find yourself a job in the clinic. And he would be right. No one cared if a healer was fat, as long as he saved lives in the clinic.

My dreams were that which stopped me from choosing the cozy and safe live. No, I wanted to see the world. Not only that, but I wanted to save princesses, kill dragons, get a cheering ovation from a village crowd.

Silly, but such were my dreams. In a country like Lergo, where the adventuring business was the only sure way to get rich, many had such dreams.

As a healer in the clinic, I would have had enough to pay the bills. Maybe I could have also passed off my illegal potion's ingredient farm as something that brought me a fortune because of my job.

The most healers, the smart ones, at least, would just study plastic surgery, with magic, of course, and then move to Arkano. That is something I saw as a betrayal. Arkano used to set goblins against us. More than one village was burned to the ground because of these bastards. The call of the green beast, as I called the money in general, made more than one healer forget about that. 

But not me. How could I? My parents died in the war. Some things could never be forgiven.

"Yes, Mr. Medon?" I bowed my head to him respectfully, just to save time. My stomach felt cold and empty, which was not far from the truth. Still, when Mr. Medon laid a hand on my shoulder, I looked him in the eyes.

Yes, he was a gentle giant. Someone who was an adventurer not because of the money, but because someone had to save the world. He was my hero, even when his polite words hurt worse than anything else in my life.

"Lars, I am telling you, stop now," yes, I was right. He didn't believe in me. "People die out there, Lars. What makes you think you can live to a ripe old age?"

Oh, today he was straight to the point. Maybe his last call for me to see common sense. His question made me think.

Here I was, in the middle of nowhere, young adventurers around me. What do they have, that I didn't? Just because I was fat, I had to just bow my head, and admit to never being able to become a hero?

Or... 

No, I couldn't live such a life. With the money from my potion's ingredients, I could become rich. Open work places, make people happy. But the mafia will eat me alive. Or the government will take all my money away and stick me in prison. Heaven forbid that someone did something in Lergo without paying the mafia and government off first.

Most days I asked myself if there was any difference between the two. Outside of the names, of course.

"I... Mr. Medon, I know I don't seem like much, but can you please look me in the eyes, and tell me, that I will never be able to save a life?" I could feel the tears well up in my eyes. This was not just a man who I met on the streets. This man was my instructor, an adventurer who knew my abilities and limitations better than I knew them myself. 

A man whom I trusted to say only that, which would save my life.

Most people would have laughed at me. They would have just told me to not ask such silly things. The times, during which people believed that something can be glimpsed by ones' eyes, were over. 

How could they not be? In Lergo there was an abundance of empty-eyed people, who just wanted to find the next meal. For dreams and hopes, there was no space left. People like me would have been understood 10 years ago, but not today.

Mr. Medon was not most people. He knelt before me, and hummed. I could see it in his concerned brown eyes, warm and full of care, even though life was surely not good for him. 

No judgement to be seen, no mockery. If he had repeated himself at that moment, I would have accepted his decision. 

"You... yes, you have work ahead of you, but you can make it," I had no idea back then what I was supposed to do with these words. Yes, I asked him to judge me again, but didn't dare hope. Without any sense of shame, I hugged him. 

There were snickers in the background, but as he patted me on the back so, as if he were a proud father, I felt peace.