Published: June 30th 2024, 9:48:14 am
Zaon's Crippling Social [Awareness]
Zaon lay down on his bed, glancing at the ceiling. He knew, deep inside, that a boy his age should be in the backyard, flexing his new skills and bragging with those who didn’t have a class. Yet, he wasn’t. And that was making him nervous and feel sick in the stomach. It was always the stomach.
“Why do things have to be so difficult?” He grunted, covering his face with the pillow. “Stand up. Put the shoes on. Walk through the door. Stand up, put the shoes on, and walk through the door at the count of ten. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.”
His body didn’t move.
“Alright. Now it is. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.”
Did he have to go outside and show his skills at all? A normal boy her age would. Ilya did, Firana did, and Zaon knew it. And it was making him nervous.
“Right. I’m going to count the cracks on the ceiling, and when I finish, I will go outside,” he muttered. “One, two, three, four, five…”
Counting the cracks on the ceiling didn’t make him any good. There were many, but ultimately, they were finite. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen. As he reached half of the ceiling, he made the counting deliberately slower. At the three-quarters mark, he slowed to a snail's pace. Finally, when only a small corner remained, he started to pray for more cracks to appear in the ceiling.
“Please, System, I beg you one more. One more, please. Just one more, and then another, and another,” Zaon closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the wave of nausea to go away.
He stopped counting, only a few cracks short, and knowing his sentence had been delayed, the queasy sensation went away.
“I’m the worst,” he muttered. “I was doing so well.”
The last time Zaon went outside, nothing bad happened. It was even fun. And yet, Zaon couldn’t help but ask, what if this time was the opposite? What if it was bad? Zaon knew that Ilya, Firana, and Wolf enjoyed his company, but if he went outside, things might change. He could say or do something odd.
The alternative was to do things right, but Zaon ignored what ‘right’ was. If Zaon didn’t know why people liked him, he couldn’t do the things that make people like him, and everything could and would quickly go down the drain.
“One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four,” he muttered. Counting was making him nervous. “One, two, three, four, five!”
Zaon threw the pillow aside and sat on the bed, his feet touching the cool floor.
“Alright, Zaon. You can do this,” he whispered to himself. “We do this every day. One foot first, then the other. Then we breeze through it.”
Since Zaon had gotten his Class, he wasn’t ‘breezing’ through anything. He reached for his shoes, slowly slipping into them and wondering if condemned prisoners felt the same way. The end was inevitable, but unlike the death row prisoners, Zaon would have to do it again tomorrow.
“One, two, three. One, two, three,” he counted under his breath, leaving his bed and taking slow steps to the gallows. His heart pounded, his mouth was dry, and his palms were sweaty. “Please, God, anything but vomit.”
Zaon didn’t know what god Mister Clarke believed in, but he seemed to say it often enough when there was trouble. A little supernatural help couldn’t harm, although Zaon was sure nobody was looking after him.
By the time he reached the door, he felt exhausted. He squeezed the handle until his knuckles were white. The direction of the gravity seemed to change, pulling Zaon towards the bed. He clenched his teeth and turned the knob.
“Just go outside. Just… be normal.”
The door pushed his way, almost sending him to the floor.
“Have you seen Firana?” Ilya asked.
“N-no?”
Zaon cringed internally. It wasn’t his best performance. A question wasn’t an answer. What was worse, a simple, nonchalant ‘no’ would’ve suffice. Ilya frowned, and [Awareness] gave Zaon a full rundown of the angle of her eyebrow, the duration of the frowning, an approximation of how angry she was compared to other times, and why it was all his fault.
The skill was even compiling a top ten list of times Ilya had been upset with him in the past before she interrupted the rankings.
“I swear, that girl is going to make me crazy,” Ilya sighed.
[Awareness] put doubts on the fact Ilya actually blamed Firana. Maybe, Ilya was just trying to divert the blame from Zaon to make him feel better. It was something Ilya would do. She always took care of the little orphans, even if she lied from time to time. Zaon, or rather [Awareness], focused on Ilya’s expression, searching for any sign of deceit.
The source of her displeasure had to be him.
“Well, I’m resuming the search, I guess. See you later,” Ilya said, turning around and getting lost around the corner.
[Awareness] brought to Zaon’s attention that the girl hadn’t asked for his help, probably because she thought he was useless, probably dumb, and most certainly an overall hindrance.
“We will breeze through this,” Zaon muttered without much enthusiasm.
The day only got worse. Zaon forced himself to go outside with the little ones, his stomach feeling worse by the second. Wolf was near the grove, practicing his orcish combat movements. [Awareness] told Zaon that Wolf was probably practicing to avoid sparring with him.
While [Awareness] spoke to Zaon’s ear, the little ones surrounded him.
“We want to see your new skills! All of them!” Shu demanded.
Despite the fact the little ones were easy to please, Zaon knew his skills weren’t as flashy as Firana’s or as useful as Ilya’s. Firana could literally walk on the wind, while Ilya had defeated a Crystal Matriarch on her first day. What could he do in return? Block the kid’s mud bombs with [Steadfast Shield]? Make a stick invisible with [Ghost Blade]? The little ones looked at Zaon, and their little eyes shone with expectation, but Zaon knew he would end up disappointing them.
“Let’s play hide and seek, and I will use [Sonar] to find all of you right away,” Zaon said. [Sonar] was a safe skill, and hide and seek was an even safer game.
The kids looked at him with suspicion. It was general knowledge among them that hide-and-seek was a high-complexity game that could take hours, depending on the size of the hiding area. The kids silently agreed that being able to find everyone right away was an extremely useful skill, but [Awareness] told Zaon that they probably thought his skill was lame and were just humoring him. He totally agreed that [Sonar] was lame compared to Firana’s [Windrider] or Ilya’s [Spirit Animal].
Zaon thought that [Sonar] had an advantage, though. He could stall the game until lunch, and he would be able to avoid showing the rest of his skills. If nobody tested him, he couldn’t make a mistake, and if he avoided the mistakes, he would make nobody disappointed.
The plan was flawless.
“I’ll give you a hundred seconds,” Zaon said. “There is no limit to where you can hide.”
The kids ran away even before Zaon could close his eyes. He covered his face with both hands and started counting. One, two, three, four. [Awareness] told him he looked stupid standing alone in the middle of the backyard with his hands on his face. Maybe, he should’ve selected a better safe zone. The kids usually picked the big stump, but the game had already started, and Zaon wasn’t sure if he could move.
“I should’ve thought this out better,” he muttered, losing count.
Zaon started from zero.
The game went as usual. Zaon opened his eyes and used [Sonar]. His body emitted a pulse of mana, and a colorless image formed in his mind. The contours of the manor, the old shed, and the trees of the grove were opaque blobs of nothingness, while the kids were bright spots of white light.
Zaon couldn’t tell them apart, and [Awareness] thought it was a shortcoming of his innate skills. There were a few spots that stood out. Mister Clarke was a bright blue dot, while Miss Elincia was a green dot and about half as bright. They were in the kitchen. Risha and Astrid also had strong signatures, while Firana and Ilya were somewhat weaker.
For some reason, he couldn’t see his own signature, and [Awareness] was quick to share its theory. Zaon’s skills were so bad that he barely stood out against the background of nothingness. It made sense, considering Mister Clarke and Risha were the two stronger warriors in the orphanage. Then came Astrid and, finally, Miss Elincia, who was a Crafting Class and not a combatant.
A bright red spot caught Zaon’s attention. Firana was taking a nap on top of the roof. He couldn’t help but ask himself if she was also avoiding him. Zaon could list a dozen reasons why Firana would avoid him, the first of the list being she wanted to avoid sparring with someone so weak. He focused on picking on the little kids. At least some of them acted surprised when he found them, but whether it was due to courtesy or real surprise, he couldn’t tell.
[Awareness] wasn’t really good at reading kids, which was a hit to Zaon’s confidence.
The morning passed in a blur, and by lunchtime, Zaon had caught all the kids plus Loki, who had joined as soon as the sun peeked through the clouds. The kids were amused when Zaon told them where Firana was hiding. Surely, they couldn’t confirm his words, but they seemed to take them at face value.
When Miss Elincia peeked through the kitchen window and called the little ones for lunch, Zaon felt a weight being lifted from his shoulders.
“Crisis averted,” he muttered to himself.
Now, he only had to survive the afternoon, and then he could retreat to his bedroom without raising suspicion.
Wolf heard the call and jogged back to the manor. To avoid meeting him, Zaon walked past the big stump to the well and took his sweet time washing his face. When the orc boy and Firana disappeared inside the orphanage, he wiped his face and rushed back to the manor, wouldn’t Miss Elincia and Mister Clarke believe he was avoiding his chores.
Zaon entered without making a noise, not to attract any attention. At least his elven blood was useful for something other than looking like a dry twig. Zaon didn’t count on Mister Clarke waiting outside the kitchen. Was he there to ambush him?
“Good morning,” Zaon greeted.
“Good morning, Zaon,” Mister Clarke replied.
Zaon thought if he walked with enough resolve, Mister Clarke would avoid making small talk with him. The plan was flawless.
“Do you have a moment to talk?” Mister Clarke asked before he could even come close to the doorway.
A shiver ran down Zaon’s back. Did the conversation have anything to do with his Class? Was Mister Clarke disappointed? Would he expel him from his lessons? [Awareness] shot a barrage of questions, each one more terrible than the last.
Zaon took a deep breath, thinking about a way to avoid the conversation. Maybe saying he was starving would do the trick. [Awareness] told Zaon that Mister Clarke was a good person and wouldn’t refuse. However, the trick would only give him a couple more hours.
“Y-yes, I have a moment,” Zaon’s tongue replied without his input.
Mister Clarke put a hand on his shoulder. His hand was rough and warm. The hand of a man, not like Zaon’s bony fingers. Girls probably thought they were unnerving. This time, however, Mister Clarke’s hand didn’t comfort Zaon. He pities you. He knows you know [Awareness]. He also has [Awareness]. He probably is using his to measure you. You can’t hide anything from him.
“I noticed you were acting strange. Are you feeling well?” Mister Clarke asked.
You are a burden to the orphanage. Mister Clarke already has enough on his plate, don’t make it harder for him, or he will hate you. Everyone should be able to carry their own weight not to sink others. Unlike you, Firana has true problems, and logically speaking, you shouldn’t hog Mister Clarke’s precious time.
“Awareness…” Zaon said with a thread of voice.
Mister Clarke laughed and put his arm around Zaon’s shoulders. “Say no more.”
See? Mister Clarke laughs. Your problems are nothing compared to Firana’s.
“Take a deep breath and cut the flow of mana,” Mister Clarke said.
You never were good at controlling mana. Ilya took less than a week to learn [Mana Manipulation]. You probably will not get it.
Zaon took a deep breath and locked his mana. The skill became silent. When he opened his eyes, everything felt different. Nothing was as terrible as he thought only seconds earlier. Even the queasy feeling in his stomach disappeared. Zaon blinked, slightly dizzy.
“I’m not going to die,” he said with relief.
“[Awareness] can be a little dangerous if you don’t know how to focus it,” Mister Clarke replied.
“It was the same for you?” Zaon asked, unable to accept the fact Mister Clarke stored so many insecurities inside his mind.
“I don’t know what [Awareness] was whispering to you,” Mister Clarke replied. “For me, it didn’t stop telling me that Elincia was going to die, the kids were going to die, and the orphanage would burn to the ground if I didn’t wake up early to prepare breakfast.”
Zaon couldn’t help but smile.
“A bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Mister Clarke asked.
“A little bit,” Zaon replied, feeling so relaxed he could go for a nap on the floor.
“From now on, feed it only small amounts of mana. Try to assign it a task and prevent it from going rogue,” Mister Clarke said, patting Zaon’s shoulder and walking back to the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway. “Remember, Zaon, fear is the mind-killer”, he added, laughing at a joke only he understood.
Zaon sighed with mild contentment at his newfound tranquility as Mister Clarke walked away.
"Oh, there you are," Ilya said as she landed in front of Zaon, having climbed through the window. "Firana gave me the slip again, and Shu told me you could help me find her."
Zaon shrugged and activated his [Sonar] again. Today was going to be okay.
"And when we find her, I need your [Awareness] skill to help plan out the next round for our strategy."
Zaon broke out into a run. [Awareness] telling him that if he used [Sonar] carefully, he could probably escape Ilya until dinner. Maybe longer if he could convince Firana to help him climb the roof with her skills.