“Prove it!” Richard demanded toward me, breaking me away from my thoughts. Not that I really wanted the existential crisis of trying to explain a world where people acted like stereotypes, so a break from my thoughts wasn’t unwelcome, but I had no idea what he was yelling about. I mean, I do admit that I got carried away with my thought, but it still feels like a month or more since I cared what he was yelling about.

Franklin theatrically rolled his eyes at the demand while Richard just stood there expectantly. His two friends had looks of longsuffering boredom on their faces. A small crowd of teens and preteens seemed to be moving in our direction while some adults seemed to be looking in our direction as well. Of course, none of this told me anything about what he wanted.

It took me a few moments to reassure myself that I genuinely had no idea what he was talking about and that I hadn’t just spaced out or something. Meanwhile the whole group just looked at me. “I really wasn’t paying attention,” I finally admitted, “what are you talking about?”

Richard spoke up immediately. “My… ‘friend’ here believes that you are more than a simple child of the city and, though you seem to be utilizing some sort of device to hide your true measure, the truest measure of one’s ability to enforce one’s will upon the world is through direct material confrontation! I would test your mettle sir!”

I looked over and Franklin translated. “He wants to fight you to see if you ‘have what it takes’ to play in the ‘big leagues’.” I looked at myself in my 5 year old body and the others in their 5 and 6 year old bodies. Granted, the magic of stats and training meant that we could do a lot more than we normally should, but not that much. It isn’t like we are at ‘Kung Pow: Enter the Fist’ levels of craziness, but still. I was walking at 1, awkwardly fighting things by 3, and meaningfully fighting things by 4; but that only worked because of my lifetime of making up for poor reflexes in video gaming with perfect timing and the ability to memorize enemy patterns. Give everyone time to catch up and it all should even out. What, exactly, he expects to learn from us fighting is a mystery to me.

I turned to look at Richard like I thought he was stupid. “Uh, what?” He started to answer, repeating his challenge about wanting to ‘test my mettle’ until I cut him off. “No, no. I get that part. I just want to know why you think that will tell you anything.”

It was now, apparently, Richard’s turn to look at me like I was stupid. At least we matched. Though his friends and a few in the crowd seemed to be looking at me skeptically as well, so maybe I was the weird one here?

Franklin sighed and explained. “Sure, a lot of people make a name for themselves in ways that have nothing to do with fighting, but if others can too easily stop you by killing you than none of your other skills mean anything. There will always be people who are jealous or in direct competition with your business or who just want to make others submit. So while ‘Might’ might not make one ‘right’, lacking might will most definitely make you the looser in the eyes of history.” He then gave a shrug that clearly communicated ‘what are you gonna do? That’s just how things work.’

Honestly, this sounded like an excuse by for the writer to include fight scenes to raise tension in the story or as a way for a video game to include their new and improved battle system (complete with extra hype and a maximum of one or two innovations across an otherwise standard system). I can’t say I wasn’t expecting it, though. I mean, when was the last time you read an iseki where the main character didn’t have to fight? Or rather, where they wouldn’t have been better off if they could defend themselves. Sure, I could remember than one story about the innkeeper, but I also remember that there were a lot of problems that came up because she lacked the skills to even effectively run away from real danger.

And, if I’m being honest with myself, I kind of wonder how I’ll do. He might not quite be my own age, but this should be a much better fight than I get against Row’s Chimera companions. Games get frustrating when you always loose against an enemy that you can’t hope to match up against. So yeah, this should be a good fight! Maybe I’ll get pushed to my limits and have to eek out a win against all odds, proving my prowess and wowing the crowds. Does a dozen or so onlookers count as multiple ‘crowds’? Meh, close enough. I smiled in anticipation. “You are on!” I called out to Richard with supreme confidence.

He smiled back. “Excellent!” He replied. “You certainly do act like you know what you are doing!”

His words caught me for a moment. “Uh, about that… How exactly are we supposed to do this? We are kind of at a fancy party right now and I never got a chance to figure out if there were some rules about that sort of thing.”

Thankfully he took it all in stride. “It is no problem. I will explain. But first,” he turned toward the little girl in a maid uniform who had been following me around, “could you get an officiator for us please? It would be so very welcome if you could take care of this task on our behalf.” His tone was polite and pleasant, and the smaller child started nodding along immediately.

“Sure!” she perked up at having something to do, and quickly ran off.

He then turned back toward me. “The basic rules are simple. For a friendly match you use only the items bound to yourself and nothing that will take time or money to replace. Try not to aim at spectators, though they are responsible for their own wellbeing, and stay away from skills that will excessively damage the surrounding structures. To win you must bring your opponent to a loss of a quarter of their health or cause them to bow out before the beauty of your martial prowess!”

“Why only a quarter? Why not half or something?” I asked quickly before the official looking servant, in their ridiculous clothes, arrived.

Richard inclined his head to my point before answering neutrally. “Some do, it depends on the circumstances. Two attackers who focus on alpha strikes or assassinations often fight to first blood in order to not accidentally kill, for instance. Other rule sets might allow for different item configurations or audience encroachment. It tends to depend as much upon the setting and paramètre. When in doubt, though, this is the most common bylaw; or you can just ask for clarification.”

The servant took this moment to announce his presence. “Gentlemen, I stand to witness the formally agreed upon exhibition match between William Townsen and Richard Boaheed.” Richard frowned at the announcement but did not interrupt. “Are you ready?”

I reached under my shirt and pulled out my dagger. This reminded me that I really needed to get another weapon, this one wasn’t intended for fighting. I also pulled out my ability sphere, the one with several ice attacks including the proximity mine. My opponent pulled out a stiff rapier from somewhere hidden and handed off his cape thing to one of his friends, specifically the skinnier one. The change in garments made him look far less fluffy but the clothes underneath were just as obviously expensive and the same combination of deep crimson and burnished gold. Something seemed off about the gold, though. It seemed shiny but somehow not reflective? I’m not exactly sure, but it isn’t likely important anyway. The sword seemed to have something of a spiral twist to the blade that made it look extra cool. Richard gave his weapon a showy swing before demonstrating a classic fencer’s thrust and then taking a stance and the sending it stabbing forward a dozen times or more in a move so quick that my eye could not fully catch it. He then nodded his affirmation to the servant and I followed up with my own similar gesture. I wasn’t blatantly copying him, I was appropriating his experience in this setting for my own!

The servant raised his hand and then quickly sliced it downward in a signal to start. Immediately my opponent was off like a jackrabbit, running faster than it seemed should be possible! His path left me encircled as he moved so fast he almost looked like a blur! Finally, a real fight: one I could both be challenged in and could win! Don’t get me wrong, I learn a lot from fighting Row’s pets; but they are faster than me, stronger than me, tougher than me, and can do things like blow fire over such a large area that I can’t even hope to dodge. They don’t even need to treat me as a threat, the moment they treat me as a target it is basically all over. But here, now, this person I can fight. I could feel a wide grin overtaking my face as I turned to watch him run, not giving him more than half a moment at my back and never switching around in a predictable pattern.

Mom’s advice was pretty technical and often times just plain confusing, but I did have Row’s advice to fall back on. True, he may focus on going against beasts rather than people, but he did have some things to say when I asked. ‘Fight the person, not their abilities. You can’t predict everything a person might be capable of, but you can always trust a person to do whatever is in their capability in a fight; barring any misdirection, of course. Learn the person, and you will know their ability’, he had said. Richard had chosen a rapier, a fencing weapon that relies upon his considerable speed and that trades off wound size for penetration power. His clothes seem to be well built for his speed, not slowing him down as much as I might have expected but also lacking any type of real bulk that might imply real defensive armor.

And yet, all that only told me about his abilities. What about his personality and person? He enjoys pomp and showiness, so his actual attack will likely be just as showy. He may even go for a single powerful strike to finish the battle despite the openings it would create. He believes he knows what he is doing and is even a bit overconfident, so there is likely going to be no true testing of my abilities. So why is he circling rather than using his speed to just immediately come in for a strike? Perhaps he is waiting for an opening? I mean, he would definitely take one if I gave it, but that doesn’t seem to be all of it. He said this fight is to see what I can do, so maybe he is just trying to give me a chance to react… or maybe he is just showing off for the crowd. It really is hard to tell. Still, this should be an excellent fight!

Time to try something out! A quick feint toward where he was running should tell me something about his aggressiveness and battle instincts. I moved forward, close enough to strike as his circuit passed by and got ready to defend.

He dodged.

Almost a full second after I moved he dodged.

A full second for my action to have any affect whatsoever on his actions, and all he did was move his encirclement to surround my new position and continue running like a crazy person.

I stopped smiling. I had had such high hopes for this fight too.

“Ha-Ha! No longer smiling, are we! Have you realized what trouble you now find yourself within!” I’m not sure if that was supposed to be a taunt or if the story just needed him to explain his mistaken thought process without a jarring perspective change, but all it got from me was an exasperated sigh.

So I gave him his opportunity. I stopped watching as he passed behind me, waiting the full second for his reaction time and then a hair more before stepping to the side to let him pass by with his predictable all out thrust. “HA!!” He yelled as his blade skewered the empty air.

Very calmly I reached out, aimed at where his shirt met him pants, and gently stabbed him in the side to make my point. Er, no pun intended.

His reaction, while delayed, was lightning fast when it did come. He jumped to the side to get away and then jumped again twice to make even more room between us.

He narrowed his eyes and dramatically stared me down. In his mind this was some epic confrontation of powers and this moment marked the point where he truly began taking me seriously.

I rolled my eyes and looked back.

A predatory smile began to grow across his face. “I see I might have underestimated you. That was quite a trick you just pulled. But understand, you won’t be able to do it twice.” This time when he set off his acceleration created a burst of debris and his speed had significantly increased beyond what he had been using before. It would be hard to guess the timing to make the same sort of dodge again and I doubt he would attack with such an unbalancing finishing move a second time.

So instead I tossed my knife in front of his path, right at ankle to knee level, just in time to have him run right into it. He didn’t react in time. The sprawling trip he made was spectacular. Head down at what had been his waist level, still moving parallel to the ground, while his feet somehow went over his head still kicking like he was trying to run on air. Meanwhile his hands started waiving frantically as he went flying. I was honestly quite impressed. When he finally hit the ground, two seconds later, he managed enough of a half roll to save him from face planting but still left him on the ground.

Finally, after a few seconds more of stunned silence, he began climbing to his feet. “HA! But now that you have thrown your knife away…”

I finished resummoning my knife and just looked at him.

There were a few more seconds of silence where he stood there, clothes soiled but him looking only a little worse for the experience. Sure, his side had a small red spot and the rest of him looked like he had been standing in front of a leaf blower, but his hair and face were miraculously untouched and he stood tall despite his state.

“Excellent! I knew there was something more to you! Your revealed stats did lie! That must be quite an expensive tool you have to accomplish such a feat!” He started brushing himself off as he spoke exuberantly with great affluence indicated by his dictation and urbane demeanor. Finally he gave up on that effort before retrieving an item from his pocket that magically removed the dirt and debris, leaving him elegantly immaculate!

Uh, pardon my intrusion into my own thoughts, but what the fuck? Seriously, “What the fuck?” That definitely doesn’t seem like me. Sure, I understand the draw of big fancy words to indicate simple concepts, sometimes they can even be useful; but something is definitely wrong when I’m looking at a guy and thinking he is ‘elegantly immaculate’.

“Yes, I believe you have won this round.” He spoke dejectedly but with heroic aplomb. Er, no. Just no. He faked being sad about loosing but took it in stride. “But truly, his victory has proven my earlier assertations concerning his true measure! I may have lost the battle, but instead have gained a companion! Perhaps even a friend!”

My head was spinning and a headache was beginning to form. “Wait, what? What if I don’t want to be your friend?”

“Truly it isn’t every day that two people as destined by fate have such a memorious introduction!” He continued, as most of the spectators began breaking off toward other things.

“You are pompious, and probably doing something to my head to make yourself look all fancy, and I don’t even know you!”

“… for today is a day of great beginnings, and I thank everyone who has come to witness this momentous occasion! May your lives be ever enriched by the experience…” even his two companions were looking away now, refusing to make eye contact.

Franklin wondered over as Richard continued to drive the crowds away with his exuberant speech. My friend, the one I actually acknowledged as a friend, patted me sympathetically on the shoulder. “This is what I was afraid of. It is always a headache when I have to deal with him.”

The spectators had been quite efficiently scattered by the production, to the point where some of the closer groups were pointedly ignoring us. Suddenly Richard turned in our direction and spoke at a more normal volume, though lacking none of his overenthusiastic flair. “There you are! I was wondering when I might be able to make the introductions!”

“Hello.” A voice came from behind Franklin and myself, causing me to jump and turn in its direction. My actual friend seemed surprised as well, but hid his reaction much better.

The speaker was a girl a little older than myself dressed in something halfway between a peasant’s finely made dress and a gothic lolita outfit, all is browns and greys. Beside her was another girl wearing something much closer to a military uniform, though one tailored to give her a feminine appeal despite her apparent age. Her clothes were deep blue and a light tan. She also wore a thin rimmed set of glasses, for what reason I don’t know, considering what the type of healing options available in this world. Both seemed to be about the same age as each other and Richard. That said, when I mention their age I mean their physical age because, despite both girls looking like they might have been six, they both were both obviously more mature than their physical form would indicate. Sarah, the servant who was following me around was also six, also the same as Richard and a year older than myself and Franklin; but she was obviously a child in both body and mind.

The gothic girl spoke again, her voice emotionless but not harsh. “You were not aware of my intrusion into your space. The first challenge of five has been lost.”

“Now now,” Richard defended. “Don’t be like that. Nobody can notice you walking up on them when you use that weird timing thing that you have.”

She simply gave him a tight lipped smile. Her expression completely failed to reach her eyes.

The more military looking one spoke up next. “Richard.” She spoke the word as both a greeting and a neutral acknowledgement. “You found someone you think is interesting again? Hopefully it won’t be such a disappointment.” She glanced in Franklin’s direction as he answered with crossed arms and a scowl.

“You must admit,” the fop returned with a raised eyebrow, “the last one, the ‘fire child’ if I recall, was an unusually unique encounter!”

She inclined her head in acceptance of his statement before turning in my direction. When she spoke it was obvious that she had some form of speech training and her words came across with a bit of scholarly lilt to them. It reminded me of an English professor who always spoke with the absolute ‘correct’ diction to each and every word. Honestly, it was a bit weird. “So, you desire to prove yourself. This is acceptable. I have come to understand that you prefer martial combat. This is also acceptable. Hopefully you will not be as big a disappointment as your male contemporaries.”

Something about that statement pinged my curiosity. “What about your female friend? Do you fight, or I guess, ‘compete’ with her?” I asked, indicating the lolita girl next to her. Everyone stopped cold, including Richard’s two friends, and Sarah took an intimidated step backwards. They gave me looks that told me they thought I was insane.

Franklin was the one to speak up. “We don’t fight Marlyn directly and she doesn’t magically appear to shank us, completely out of no-where. That’s the deal.”

The goth, whose name was apparently Marlyn, gave another tight-lipped smile toward Franklin this time. So we have a ‘creepy psychic girl’, apparently, and the way that she is standing next to the more military looking girl means that they are probably best friends; which is good, because the typical ‘creepy psychic girl’ needs a best friend to protect or she tends to go axe crazy. Note to self: Don’t separate the two or become a threat to her friend. That would be bad.

I looked back at Marlyn who looked back directly into my eyes, seeming to try to bore into my soul. I just shrugged, hoping that wasn’t something that people could actually do. “That’s understandable.” I replied. “And your friend’s name?” I asked, turning toward the girl in the well-tailored uniform.

“My name is Marlisis KingsBrawn.” She spoke in a clipped tone. She pronounced her name ‘Mar-lis-is’, which was not the weirdest fantasy name I had heard. As we spoke she indicated toward a corner of the park/jungle/party that was out of the way and we all started walking in that direction.

“Sisters.” Marlyn spoke in a whisper that somehow carried like it was spoken in a completely silent room. Her word somehow carried the implication of the connection between the two girls.

I looked back and forth between them again. They looked nothing alike, though I wasn’t sure how this world’s weird form of genetics might have influenced that divergence.

Franklin must have seen my look because he explained. “They come from an Earth and Sky background, so they pick their relations. Marlisis’s family lives near topside, but still in the underneath for political reasons. But Marlyn? We don’t actually know where she comes from: deep downs at least, possibly even the under-dark.”

That was a good introduction, and probably quite important to understand, but all my attention was pulled to that one final admission. There was an ‘under-dark’: traditionally home to Drow, Duergar, and Svirfneblin! And no, I’m not completely sure how to pronounce that last one, but does it really matter? I turned toward Marlyn with excitement in my eyes. “You have to take me to visit your home sometime!” I spoke in as serious a tone as I could manage.

A twitch appeared toward the side of her mouth that could have been a smile before she schooled her expression. “Interesting.” She observed.

We were nearly to the partially secluded corner, the servants trailing after, and I wasn’t exactly sure what was the point of this beyond a friendly spar in less of a showy location than Richard preferred. “So… What now?”

“Riddles?” Marlyn asked.

I frowned in thought. “Like, ‘What has four legs in the morning, two in the midday, and three in the evening?’ ”

She frowned back, but more in annoyance than anything else. “That doesn’t make sense. You use ‘legs’ in a weird way, and older people don’t need a third leg anyway.”

I nodded in agreement. It was a classic riddle, whose answer was supposed to be ‘man’ or ‘mankind’ but it really didn’t fit with how Paradise worked. I guess without old age slowing people down there would be no need for a cane. The one and only old guy I had seen actually looked sharper as a result of his age, not dulled. Plus, I was walking at one, which might have been early but it meant the whole ‘crawling children’ thing really didn’t fit here.

“My turn,” she answered. “Why is the sky blue?”

A science question? “Uh, because of light diffusion through the atmosphere. The higher wavelengths of light that are knocked out of the direct flow of the sun’s rays bounce around enough that they are absorbed while the lower wavelengths are drowned by the more powerful blue, which is pretty close to the lower level of the visible light spectrum as it is. So what is left is the color blue.” I mean, that’s a pretty basic question, so I’m not sure what she expected.

She looked at me, intense but not quite a glare, seemingly more in thought than anything else. “Than why is the grass green?” she finally answered.

Another trick question? “Because of the Chlorophyll in plants that collects the light to turn it into nutrients: The Chlorophyll absorbs all the other colors of light and only sends back out the wavelength associated with green.”

“But why green?” she pressed on with a stare that I was beginning to associate with confusion or frustration, judging from the tone of her question.

I shrugged. “Well I guess the plant generally has to reflect something, simply because it is more efficient to take that shortcut and maybe for preventing heat buildup? I’m not a biologist or a herbologist so I don’t know. But as for why green, the plant would want to maximize the indirectly absorbed light from the lower wavelengths and still gather as much of the other higher wavelength light that was not diffused from the atmosphere, so the obvious next choice is green: as it is the next color on the light spectrum after blue.” Suddenly a thought occurred to me. “So wait, does that mean that, generally speaking, all grass in every alien world is green?”

“Sky.” She answered, as though that explained everything.

To be fair, though, it kind of did. “Oh, right.” I nodded along. “If the color of the sky changed than it would likely change the color of most plants too.” I smiled, having solved that little conundrum. All I would have to do is find a planet with a yellow sky to find fields of bright orange grass.

She stared at me again in her particular way. “One final question. Tiebreaker.” She paused a moment before asking. “What do you want from life?”

There was suddenly silence among the others in the group, as they all turned in our direction. Richard and Franklin stopped bickering. Marlisis stopped glancing around, as though she were in the midst of a leisurely stroll, and turned her full attention on me. Even the older male servant and Franklin’s two lackeys seemed to freeze up as they turned toward our conversation. The only one unaffected seemed to be Sarah, the younger servant who was following me around.

“Um…” I answered back. “I don’t really know.”

The ‘psychic’ girl gave me a doubtful look. “You know more than that.” She answered.

I gave her a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe, but why do you want to know?”

“If you do not answer, you lose the challenge.” She deflected.

I shrugged again. “So what? I loose.”

“You may be deemed unacceptable to associate with.” She threatened.

“So? I never hung out with you before so nothing changes there.”

There were a few tense moments of silence between us. Then she answered my reply with a nod. “You have lost. Acceptably.”

Uh. Ok? That was weird.

Before I could spend too long worrying about it, though, Marlisis spoke up. “We are here. Are you prepared to spar?” As she spoke she caused a kite shield to appear on her left arm and wielded a blade that seemed halfway between a longsword and a rapier; it had the length and straight edge of a longsword with the extra grip length but was far thinner with a basket hilt and a tip designed for stabbing rather than cutting only. The way that she held it was direct and not at all the flashy spectacle from my last fight, something that gave me confidence that she knew what she was doing and was fully comfortable with her chosen weapons. From her point of view there seemed to be no reason to make useless showy grandstanding, so all she did was ready to demonstrate her competence.

This gave me pause and I took a moment to look more closely. She was tall for a girl and well muscled, more like the ‘brick house’ body type than a ‘runner’ or dancer. Her face wasn’t unduly attractive but there didn’t really seem to be anything really lessor about her other aspects beyond that they didn’t really match up with her physical fitness. The pull of magic that I associated with the Intelligence stat was there, but not overpowering. The forced ordering of magic and unnatural quickness that would indicate high Wisdom was similarly blending in. The best indications I got from looking at her was that she was strong and tough with only a bit of speed mixed in.

This gave me pause as I thought about myself and how I would respond to her. I tried to cover the delay by taking calming breaths and generally trying to not make a fool of myself as I psyched myself up. The last battle had gotten me excited, but this: this felt like I was marching to war in a ‘We who are about to die, salute you’, type of thing. Her stats quite obviously left mine to shame, even her lower ones. She had an actual set of real weapons and a good bit of familiarity using them. And, even more prominently, she had much more experience fighting people her own age. The only real advantage I had was being used to fighting things much more powerful than myself. I could defend myself and look for a place to retaliate despite my weakness. She would almost certainly attack in a direct and straightforward way, a shield and a sword. Perhaps she would be like a knight in shining armor or a fighter fulfilling their duty; but regardless, there would be no fancy feints or unnecessary showmanship. She was a straightforward person and, unless specifically trained to battle otherwise, would fight in that way.

I pulled out my dagger, reminding myself that I really needed to get a better weapon for actual fights. I also pulled out my orb. “Ready.”

A glow surrounded her for a moment, before fading into the background. Immediately after she shot toward me with singular focus. She was physically faster than me, though I could not tell by exactly how much, but it was clear that the true danger was how she knew what she was doing in combat far more than my previous opponent. I responded by dropping a mine with the orb in my left hand while I interposed my weapon with my right. The weapon I reinforced with energy in the way that made it a pseudo unstoppable force, which meant that instead of knocking straight through my weapon she only sent me flying backwards from the force. I took the knockback with the experience I had gained from always fighting things more resistant than me and moved back forward to reengage.

From there I tried moved in toward her right side, moving past her optimal weapon range and avoiding the side with her shield where a shield bash could knock me back. She didn’t seem inexperienced enough to let her shield block her sight lines or attacks so I decided to focus on the side I had a chance to penetrate. I needed to attack, and the shield would prevent that too efficiently for my small weapon. My first attack on her arm and side was ineffective (what is it with everyone having such high constitution?) so I switched to using the ability that would allow me to chip through her defenses.

Immediately I saw a change in her demeanor as she brought her arm around than swung her sword in a wave of light that I only mostly dodged. I was damaged, but my health covered for it and I was still in the fight. It did mess up my clothes pretty badly. One thing was certain, though, I couldn’t let her do that again. Staying at a distance wouldn’t work, not with that ability that she just used, nor would any moderation of our range; she was just too skilled and powerful. So instead, I went for broke and tackled her when she brought her arm around for another swing.

Ok, so I admit, not really the best move considering that she was bigger and tougher than me, but it neutralized both her weapon and kept her from taking me out with a second swing of that light blade thing. Still, I used my orb’s area of effect ability to try to slow her down while I used my dagger at its most effective range, enhancing every strike. At first she struggled to get me off of her, obviously unsuited to and inexperienced with what had become a ground fight, and failed to dislodge me enough to effectively get away.

Then she dropped her sword and simply punched. I recognized the ability that she used, it was the same one that I had used earlier on my blade to give it an irresistible force. But where my use had sent me flying, her use left me seeing darkness for at least a few seconds. When I came back to myself the entire group was huddled around me and Marlisis had already put her weapons away. She also looked a bit embarrassed. There were a few commiserations at my loss from the guys, one far more verbose than the other, but with the basic undercurrent of a lack of expectation for it to have turned out otherwise.

“You fought well, though I apologize for underestimating your defenses at the end.” She spoke with military stiffness. “How long have you had access to your first class?”

“What?” I asked as I tried to figure out her sudden departure. “I haven’t actually unlocked it yet. My parents are taking the more ‘traditional’ route and didn’t want to force it. Does that mean you have your first class unlocked already? Maybe even both of them?”

“Yes.” She answered and subtly deflated. “Your showing caused me to believe that you were more advanced than you were and I attacked beyond your means. It is my loss.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, I’m pretty sure I was the one who lost. I very clearly remember blacking out for a bit there.” That meant she had hit me so hard to go through the regenerative properties of over ¾ of my health in one hit, enough to leave me laid out on the ground only a step away from death. Yikes!

She scowled back. “It was not a fair fight. Therefore it is not fair for me to defeat you in this way. Therefore I have lost.” Her explanation was serious and focused, and I was beginning to see her archetype.

I shook my head at her explanation. “Fights are never fair. If everything was taken into account, including skill and experience, than it would basically be a coin flip, not a competition.”

Her scowl turned to a look of focused frustration, though the expression seemed to turn that focus more inward than toward me. Oh, yeah. I definitely have seen this type of character before. “Even so. I must insist. This fight has resulted in my loss, not yours.”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a ‘Golden Boy’… er, ‘Girl’. The gender switch is a bit of an oddity there, since usually guys with their whole ‘macho’, ‘be the best’ thing fit the trope most easily, but there was no real reason that a girl couldn’t fit. Usually girls focused on being perfect are ‘School Princesses’ or some type of ‘Head Girl’, but both of those had aspects to either make them less overwhelming and possibly more approachable (depending on one’s leanings). The defining trait of a Golden Boy, beyond being good at absolutely everything, is that his ability makes him perpetually an outsider except with those friends who glomp onto him despite his awkwardness. They are good at everything both because of natural talent and because they always hold themselves to a higher standard, one that others cannot reach, and that is what tends to put others off. After all, even if the Golden Boy doesn’t expect others to live up to his own standards, it is quickly apparent to others that they cannot measure up; not even to the level where they can meaningfully contribute if he gets serious. They are most often tall, neat and orderly, perpetually wear a suit, and have eyeglasses that hide their eyes from time to time.

The real question for me, at this point, is ‘why is she a girl’? No, seriously. If it was just an issue of having a strong enough male/female split among the group than Richard could have been a girl without any modification of his trope, beyond possibly a name change. It would change the dynamics of the friendship with Marlyn, adding a possible romantic subplot, but that romantic option wasn’t exactly gone due to them both being girls. Depending on the author and the story their gender made it almost guaranteed that at least one of them would be attracted to the other. I think it is the whole ‘forbidden love’ thing, even if it isn’t actually forbidden. She could be downgraded/ upgraded/ sidegraded into a particularly competent Head Girl, removing the ‘better than everyone’ aura for some girlish awkwardness. So why a female Golden Boy? For all I knew it was something dumb like, ‘the author didn’t think ahead when choosing the characters’.

All this continued in the back of my head as I tried to reassure the girl in front of me that I really was ok with loosing, even if she used tools that I didn’t have. She was insistent, but so was I, and so the entire conversation devolved into stubbornness that didn’t actually take much brain power to continue.

“Wonderful! I just knew the two of you would get along! Congratulations, you both lost!” Richard crowed, breaking into our conversation and was immediately met with a death glare from both of us. It was not very effective. Character ‘Richard’ is highly resistant to anything that might cause shame.

“Is he always this exhausting?” I asked, turning away and back toward Marlisis.

“Absolutely,” she answered back without breaking her stare.

He apparently had not had enough and continued in an animated way. “Don’t be like that. This was likely the only way that you two could be true friends! She only seems to like people who can challenge her but aren’t overly prideful about it! Everyone else she simply tolerates. Moi, for example!”

I looked at her questioningly for confirmation. It was hard to imagine her tolerating his antics with her no-nonsense attitude.

“He has his moments.” Came her offhanded reply.

Franklin grumbled at her words, though not using any actual words that I could discern. Mostly it was just a discontented growl.

“And now we are all one big group of friends! Isn’t that wonderful! Even little Marlyn has approved of you! Excellent work!” The girl in question glared at Richard as he spoke, but it had no more affect than anything else we had tried.

A thought occurred to me. “So wait. You all seem to know each other pretty well. Does that mean you hang out together?”

Franklin was the one to answer back, jumping in before Richard could. “I don’t spend all my time with you, do I? In addition to my own hobbies and interests there are a number of group activities that we all end up participating in. These parties are mostly just for show and to relax but there are also things like talent exhibitions and basic battle training.”

The battle training sounded interesting but I wasn’t sure about whatever those ‘talent exhibitions’ were.

“You should most definitely come!” came a very excited voice of the one and only person around who would end every other sentence with an exclamation point. “And your inclusion in the little group with myself and the two girls means that we no longer add up to a prime! Even your very presence brings good tidings!”

“Franklin counts.” Marlyn replied in a quiet but stern voice. Marlisis nodded in agreement.

I turned to Franklin questioningly and he obliged to explain. I ignored Richard’s protests going on in the background. “Some people think that prime numbers are unlucky. The higher the prime, the worse. It is probably just superstition.” He spoke the words saying that it was nothing but I still noticed him glance apprehensively at the group. If you count the two girls, myself, him, and the loudmouth that makes five people.

What was worse was when I looked over at Richard’s two companions. That would push it up to seven. Our little group was now up to seven people, which would be a lot worse than the individual groups of two or, in Richard’s case, three would be. If only we could find another person to join our little group. Still, it wasn’t like that was for sure, it was probably just superstition, though who knows what weirdness is real in this world. For all I knew it could actually be true.

Not that it was all that important either way, since there were more interesting things for me to focus on. Like the whole battle training thing with other people around my own age. I was kind of curious about how it would go. It seemed like something I might really enjoy.