Ascendants

Raiden Alaric

What do I do?

I'm just sitting here, panting on the cold, damp concrete. Pretty sure I broke a few ribs, breathing feels like trying to suck air through a straw filled with broken glass. My arm won't lift right, and my head's pounding like I just headbutted a mountain goat for dominance... and lost.

Now I get to limp home and come up with some half-baked excuse about why I'm bleeding and broken. "I fell down the stairs" probably isn't going to cut it. I can't exactly say, 'Hey, I got into a brawl with three classmates,' and expect anything short of a nuclear meltdown. And it's not even for my sake. If my mom found out what they did... Yeah… no… let's not even go there.

Hm?

My left eye's swollen shut now that I think about it.

...And my pants are wet.

NO, not like that. I'm just sitting in a puddle, okay? It rained earlier. I swear. If anything, blame gravity and poor urban drainage.

Honestly, I'd head home and just accept whatever wrath my mom dishes out, but… yeah, no, can't get up. I tried… twice… the third time was not the charm.

Besides, this wall's kind of nice. Smooth bricks. Slightly mossy. Full of character. The floor's got everything: puddles, dirt, dog shit, luxury. And for the low, low price of $1,200 a month before taxes and fees, it could all be yours. Yes sir, that Employee of the Month title is mine. Suck it, Arnold. Don't know who that is. Just feels like a guy who'd try to rent out this corner. Nothing personal, Arnold. Just trying to laugh through the pain.

Ahaha.

"Yo, kid—you breathing?"

The voice cuts through the haze. I blink up slowly. A man stands over me, face shadowed against the streetlight. He walks closer, squats in front of me.

"You need me to call someone?" he asks. "Or should I just take you to a hospital?"

I mumble something that might've once been words. "I'm not sure. Just a dude hangin' out after defending myself from three guys. Clearly doing great. I'm just here for the ambiance."

He scratches his chin, looking around. "Well, I wouldn't call it an attempt exactly."

I squint at him, then follow his gaze.

Over his shoulder, the yellow brick wall is streaked with blood. Trash and debris line the alley, and further down—

Oh. So I'm not alone.

Two bodies lie crumpled nearby. One face-down, arms splayed like he tripped mid-sprint and forgot to land. Another's slumped against a dumpster, head tilted sideways like a broken doll. And… is that vomit in his lap?

I glance to my right. The third one's flat on his back, shirt stained deep red, motionless. All three are just… lying there. Bruised. Battered. Unmoving.

Yeah. On second thought, "attempt" might've been underselling it.

Blinking hard, the scene snapped into focus.

Over the guy's left shoulder, I spotted a yellow wall stained with blood. Not a lot—just enough to say someone had a bad time here. Below it: trash, more blood, and… oh. I wasn't alone.

Two bodies lay nearby, tossed across the alley like someone hit pause mid-fight. One was face-down, arms stretched out as if he'd tried to catch himself. The other slumped against a dumpster, head crooked at a nasty angle. Pretty sure that was vomit in his lap.

I turned my head, slowly. Another guy was on his back, chest rising and falling. Shirt soaked through. Blood, not sweat.

All three of them looked wrecked. Limp. Bruised. One guy's leg was facing the wrong way.

Who the hell jumped these guys?

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

They are the victims here damn, look at this guy's leg, it's facing the wrong way. Wait are they... oh wait no, I see their chests moving, they're alive.

The stranger's voice cut in. "You know, even though you look almost as bad as they do, I think you should pat yourself on the back. Winning a 1v3's no joke."

I looked up. Bad idea. My vision swam, and the pounding in my skull cranked up to eleven.

I did this?
No shot. I've never even been in a real fight, let alone taken on three dudes and won.
There's no way...

My head throbbed as flashes of motion flickered in my mind. It was a blur, but… no. It was me. I remembered now.

"But—" I tried to say something, anything, but my mouth didn't cooperate.

The stranger gave a low whistle. "Uh oh. He's about to go lights out. Alright, kid. Rest up. I'll take it from here."

How did I even get here again? Right…

That was my last thought before everything went dark.

I tilted my head back, eyes closed, soaking in the summer sun. Warmth settled on my face. No telling how long it'd last, clouds were already creeping in.

Finally. Freedom.

I took a deep breath, letting my shoulders drop. Yeah, definitely smells like rain's on the way. But I wasn't about to let that ruin the moment. Classes were done. School was out. Three full months to pretend the system didn't exist.

Barely scraped by, but hey, passing's passing. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have survived Mom's wrath. She dotes when I'm doing well. The moment I slip up? No mercy. I once watched an R-rated movie without permission and got grounded longer than the runtime.

My sister will never get it. I'm out here taking the hits so she doesn't have to.

You're welcome, young one. Remember this when you inherit the Wi-Fi password.

At least Dad cuts me some slack now and then.

Now that I had actual free time, I could finally finish Final Fantasy. Would've finished it already, but Mom caught me playing past midnight and took the console hostage. Fair enough, I guess. But with school out, she couldn't possibly object to six-hour gaming marathons. No homework. No early wake-ups. Just pure, uninterrupted grinding.

I was mid-schedule-planning when something caught my eye, some older students tossing a notebook between them, laughing like idiots. Took me a second to realize a girl was chasing after it.

Notebook wasn't theirs. Unless one of them was really into flowers.

Hmm. What to do, what to do.

I could get a teacher. Or I could help her grab the book so it feels like someone at least tried to help. Not that I'd be any more effective, I'm just as scrawny. Besides, this has cliché written all over it. I have dreams. I'm not looking to die young because I got involved in a lunchtime anime subplot.

Wait, this could be the moment. I step in, get roughed up a little, win her trust, maybe score a new friend. Everyone claps. The credits roll.

Yeah... no. That's what I want to tell myself.

But I don't even like popping my knuckles. Pain and I are not on speaking terms.

Still, where the hell are the teachers? They're usually prowling around this area like it's their kingdom. So why is it that today, of all days, they've vanished?

Then I noticed the emblem stitched onto the guys' coats.

Ah. Of course.

If any staff were around, they'd still pretend not to see. Emblem means one of two things, either you're from a sect family, or you've been evaluated by the Ascendants Association. Either way, that's power. And nobody with half a brain picks a fight with power.

Right as that thought landed, so did the book.

One of the older students jumped for it and missed, arms flailing. The girl made a break for it, stretching her hand out, and got tripped.

Face-first into a tree.

I actually winced. I heard the impact. It sounded exactly how it looked: bad.

Alright. I might be a coward, but even I've got a limit. I was ready to run over, check if she was still in one piece—

"Agh!" he yelled, voice sharp and panicked.

What happened?

One guy suddenly clutched his head and doubled over. Why is he acting like... a rock...

I noticed I was finishing a throw.

What?

My body has betrayed me. After all, we've been through... I could cry after this sign of mutiny. My body, which I have full rights to, had the audacity to move before I could process, let alone think about what I wanted to do.

I just wanted to go over to the poor girl and see if she's okay, but why am I suddenly using my turn to use the 'Throw Rock At Ugly Dude's Head' action? I didn't even get to quicksave before this interaction.

Stop it with the stupid thoughts... Damn it I need to get out here.

That was what I was thinking until I noticed I had already picked up another rock off the ground and thrown it at the same guy. Surprisingly, I hit him in the head again, making him fall to his knees.

Damn, I should consider baseball with a throw like that, maybe try out for track and throw a javelin.

Right after that thought came across my head, it occurred to me that now isn't the time to stroke my ego for my god-like aim. So I did the most logical thing one does when trying to de-escalate a situation when facing a beating. I ran away like a little bitch~