"Hey man wanna hear something I heard the other day?"
"Sure."
"I heard that martials families start training their kids at 3 years old."
"Huh? Aren't there like child labor- training laws against that?"
"Yeah there are, but they get around it by making the training into kids games, can't charge someone for just playing with their kid too much."
"Still, 3 years old? Kinda sad when you think about it."
-----------------------------------------------------------
Zol just stared at Wihn for a moment.
It was in essence a simple question, 'Do you want to be a Martial Artist'?
But the implications of that question were far deeper than just those words.
Martials, as a societal class, were at the top when it came to power and influence. Only true Mages and Merchants were seen as their peers.
For a person born outside of power and influence, working under them or even becoming one of them was the "be-all and end-all" of they could achieve. That question could be the turning point in a persons life.
Zol only had a single question looming over his mind, even overshadowing the usual question of 'Why me?'.
"...Aren't I way too old to become a martial artist?" Zol blurted out.
"Well... yeah... maybe..." Wihn answered in a slowly deflating manner, like he was a balloon losing air between each word.
"Yeah no, I'm way too old at this point. Don't martials start training at... 10 years old? I'm already 19, this is way too late."
What Wihn was suggesting to Zolsho was more than a little absurd, maybe even totally so.
"I mean, yeah you're older than the normal age someone starts their training, but outer disciples usually start training later than inner disciples." Wihn argued.
"Like I was an outer disciple and I only started when I was 12, it's not impossible to start late." He continued, but inside Wihn was also debating if it was really plausible, even though he was the one who broached the question.
Everyone asked themselves these kinds of question at some point or another.
'Could I succeed as a mage?'
'Could become a martial?'
'Could I work at a merchant megacorp?'
Zol had definitely asked himself these questions before. Part of him wanted to climb like everyone else did and part of him quietly seethed at the idea of becoming one of them.
He never thought he had a chance anyway, he wasn't the kind of person those groups would take under their wing.
But here he was, and he didn't know how to answer. Even if he was the right age to become an outer disciple, he felt like he couldn't stomach saying yes.
"I'm sorry bu-"
"Honestly I know it would be common sense to say you're too old to start and that it would be a waste of time." Wihn interrupted Zol, either by accident or on purpose.
"But that aside, I think you'd make it." He continued.
"I feel like it wouldn't be a mistake to give you a chance. Well, that's if you want it."
The young man couldn't help but let the words linger in the air for a moment. He only ever heard encouragement like that from his dad, none of his teachers in the past ever gave him this amount of grace.
"..."
He couldn't... outright refuse anyone. Not that he felt like he was being guilted into it or anything, rather he wanted to consider what the man said. Even if only for a little bit.
Wihn, in all this, was hoping that his sincerity was being communicated. He understood the kinds of thoughts the young man was having right now, self doubt wasn't foreign to him in the slightest.
"I um... all I can come up with right now is I'll think about."
"That's fine, I'm the one who sprung this question on you and I'm willing to wait for you to come up with a proper answer." Wihn responded with a patient smile.
"Here's my card. Contact me when you sort out your thoughts."
Wihn took out a thin card from one of his pockets and held it out for Zolsho.
Zol took the card and put it in his pocket, his expression kind of unfocused.
He waited for a moment, trying to center himself.
"Thank you for your card and... thank you for your proposition. I'll get back to you... Have good day."
With those words Zolsho turned to leave.
Wihn didn't say anything to the young man as he left, he could tell at this point the young man was mentally drained and saying anything more wouldn't hasten his contemplation or decision. He simply waved as Zolsho left, even if the young man's head was already turned.
___________
Returning home was a blur. He left the alley, he walked the streets, he got on and off a Milli-train and got to his apartment's front door. Zol was in a sort of auto pilot the whole way. The day so far had just exhausted him, too much to process, all in a few hours.
He slumped in one of the chairs in the kitchen and stared at the wall. His thoughts slowly returned to him after a bit.
He got jumped in an alley because of some bullshit.
The restaurant he worked at had a one and half thousand pound aircraft ram into it.
And somebody asked if he wanted to change the entire trajectory of his life.
It would be easy to say it was a lot to process. So he started. He began just mulling everything over.
The fight was already over, so all he could really do is be mad about it and complain to himself in his own mind. Yora said that nobody got seriously hurt because of that drunk flyer, but should call his friends from work to see if they were all alright and still had all their limbs. And then that guy in the alley, Wihn.
If the man was serious about his offer, then he had to serious consider it. What did it mean to be a martial?
It meant spending years of your life training just to set the groundwork for more working. It meant putting your life at risk doing who knows what. From fighting wild beasts at the borders of mortalkind, exterminating things corrupted by the shadow of the world, to dueling other martials or mages to the death.
"A lot of fighting when you list it out." Zol said to the open air.
But it also meant something to Zolsho. It meant he could finally do something, maybe. If he was martial he could...
"Ca-Click"
The front door of the apartment was unlocked and began to open. Zol already know who was at the door, so he checked his Centipede to see that the time was already 10:30 at night.
"Dang dad, you're late... You got anything to eat?"
The man was almost as tall as Zolsho and had a similar shade of gray hair to the young man's, though cut much shorter. He was wearing a dull green shirt and pants combo, both made with a thick fabric and on the breast of his shirt was a white square with the words "Nelin Atleth, Senior Molder" written in it.
He whipped his head around to look over at his son.
"Not even a hi? I slaaaaaved over the chitin press today and the only thing you say to me is if I have food?" He said with a totally blank face.
"Heh! Yeah I do, here." He could only hold that stone like expression for moment before he cracked out a chuckle and throwing a bag at his son.
Zol caught it while barely looking at it.
"Thanks, I last track of time and forgot to eat."
"Really? Did you not get any food from Yora? Did you piss her off or something?"
"No. There was an accident at the restaurant and they had to close early."
Zol's dad silently nodded in response.
"But why are you home so late, I thought you got off at 6?" Zol couldn't help but ask, his dad was someone who despised overtime.
"Yeah I was supposed to, but this rich guy came in and convinced my boss to have us do a rush order repair on his sons Dragonfly. Apparently his son crashed it while he was drunk."
<...There's no way right?> Zol thought there was no way it was the same guy... but it would kinda be funny if it was.
Nelin began putting all his things away and went to his room to change out of his work uniform.
After his dad left his room, Zol decided that it wouldn't be a bad idea to get his dad's thoughts on the thing he was thinking about.
"Hey dad."
"Yeah Zol?"
"I got a question... about a thing I'm stuck on."
"What's up kid?" Nelin said as he opened the freezer to grab something.
"So I got a, proposition about a new job... but I don't know if I..."
"Well is it better than the dishwasher job?"
"-Yeah totally. It's just that... it's a big jump, like the biggest kind of jump possible honestly."
Nelin set down the tub of ice cream he had on the table and sat down.
"And you're not sure if you could make it work?"
"Yeah. It's daunting, it's like a once in a lifetime thing and I'm not sure if I'm up for it. Plus it would be dangerous."
"..." Nelin silently looked at his son. Considering what his son really needed to hear right now.
"Zol, you've always been someone who knowns what you want. But I know you just about never feel sure if what you want is the best choice, you've had a lot of trouble making these kinds of choices." Nelin paused.
Zol simply returned his father's gaze and waited for him to continue.
"You already know what you want and why you do. You just get caught up thinking back and forth, so let me tell you what I think. I trust you. I know you're smart enough on your own to make the best choice for yourself, or at least the choice you know your want the most... and I know you're smart enough to not make a stupid decision."
Zol listened to him. He knew he was floundering back and forth because he was too nervous, that not making a decision because he was so nervous was as bad as making the worst choice.
"So listen to me Zol. Move forward, take a chance. Strive to be the person you want to be."