Ultimate Level 1

Max realized his pants were wet and he couldn’t figure out why for a moment. There was a copper taste in his mouth also. Trying to move and figure out what was happening sent him into a state of panic as his heart started to thump in his chest. It was impossible as he found his hands tied behind his back.

Even with his eyes open, there was no light around him.

His heart pounded as if he were a deer fleeing a wolf, causing a slight dizziness that only cleared when he recalled getting a jaw-smacking from some woman.

I’m going to die. I’m really going to die!

His brain hurt, unsure if it was because of the punch he had received or his situation.

Why are they going to kill me? I have a skill! Two skills, and yet they said I didn’t have one!

He tried to kick his feet and found that they were bound together. The rope was cutting into his wrists and hands. His feet were numb from how tight they had tied him up.

Rolling over, he remembered the cart they were taking him toward. One with a solid wooden door.

How long had he been out? That would be important to know. The warmness of his pants told him it couldn’t have been too long.

Think!

“I always say I’m the wisest. Now prove it,” he told himself as he noticed a small sliver of light from the keyhole in the door.

The thought of rolling around and seeing if something was inside here seemed foolish. Why would they put him in here if he could escape?

Closing his eyes, Max recalled seeing a similar cart a few years ago. Someone else had been branded as unskilled, and they promptly carried that young woman away. They must have put her inside like they had him.

“Those bastards are prepared for someone like me!” he cursed as he slammed his boots into the floor.

As the pain of wooden planks reverberated through his heels, he felt pressure against his ankle and calf.

His heart began racing when Max realized they had missed his knife when tying him up.

Bringing his heels toward his hands that were tied behind him, Max struggled and groaned at the pain he felt as the rope bit into him, causing his skin to tear and wetness to run down his hand.

“Goblin nuts,” he cursed as he reached for the cuff of his boots that was covered by his pants. Slowly, he pulled the pant leg up and felt the bare skin.

He yelped suddenly and thrust his leg out as a cramp in his hamstring took over from his awkward position.

Groaning and grunting, he tried to ignore it. Every time he pulled his leg close, it started to flare up again.

“Push through it, you pansy,” he muttered aloud as he fought the pain. His leg twitched as he moved his feet close to him again.

His skinny legs and arms provided him an advantage here. He was flexible compared to Caleb and others. The joy of not having huge muscles on his short frame was that he didn’t have as far to reach. Sure, everyone wanted to be tall, even if he wanted to be tall, but right now, being short was working out for him.

His fingers fumbled on the handle, and after a few failed attempts, he managed to grasp it between his two fingers, freeing it from its sheath. It slipped from his fingers, landing on the floor.

Letting out the breath he had been holding, Max relaxed and felt his leg stop spasming as he straightened it.

All he could imagine was cutting himself, slicing off a finger, or slitting his wrist in the darkness on his blade. It was sharp. He and Caleb spent more time sharpening their knives than they ever used them. He could shave with it… if he could actually grow facial hair.

Carefully, he grabbed the small handle and flipped it around, pressing the blade against one of the rope pieces, and began sliding it back and forth.

Over and over, his hands barely seemed to move, yet he felt it cutting through threads, pieces of the rope flaking off onto his slick fingers.

After what seemed like forever, he felt the rope loosen up. Twisting his wrist, he felt it starting to fall away. Gently setting the knife down, he squirmed his hands as the loop suddenly came undone, letting him escape the bonds.

When Max brought his arms forward, his shoulders lit up like fire ants were biting him. All that time in that position had caused them to lock up. Even his hands tingled from the lack of blood flowing through them.

Feeling the knot near where he had cut, he realized he had gotten lucky. He had managed to cut through the central strand that held it together. Slipping the other hand out, he found his knife in the dark and repeated the process for his legs.

In another minute, they were free, and his toes and feet felt like pins and needles as blood flowed back into them.

Climbing to his knee, he put his eye on the keyhole and tried to look out of it. Across the courtyard were at least another fifty kids still waiting in line. It appeared that they must have taken a break after they had taken him away. With a town this size, it wasn’t uncommon for two to three hundred eighteen-year-olds to line up.

A town of ten thousand, including the surrounding farms and other areas, was a big draw for the adventurers guild.

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Moving his head around the keyhole, he saw that no one was paying any attention to the cart down the street from the courtyard. He actually didn’t hear anyone nearby.

Taking his knife, Max began to whittle on the area where the lock was. Thankfully, it was a simple keyhole lock, not a padlock.

He scraped and cut in the dark, sending slivers of wood to the floor in the dark. Without light, the only thing he could go off of was feeling. There was no telling how thick the doors were, but he doubted he could kick the cart open, and doing so would probably draw attention he didn’t want.

Time felt like it was racing by as he sliced and cut wood away in slivers and chunks.

Stopping occasionally and looking out the keyhole, he saw the progression of people moving at a fair pace. The shouting and cheers that took place each time someone got their skill gave him a running total of the number of people left.

There were less than twenty-five now, and he wasn’t even halfway through. He felt the knife hitting the metal bolt as he kept cutting on the top and bottom of it.

Memories flooded his brain as he tried to remember what he had ignored learning at the blacksmith shop when he was supposed to be training.

“Gah, I’m an idiot,” he cursed as a spec of wood flew out and smacked him near his eye. “I should have paid more attention; maybe I wouldn’t have been in this mess!”

Like a caged animal, he panicked with every cheer that echoed through the city.

Fifteen… there were only fifteen or so more people left to get their skills.

There would be a speech, probably not long because of him, and then they would say goodbye to the mayor, collect the shard, and leave the town for a year.

Frantic, he jabbed his knife at the wood, trying to remove bigger sections of it. The sliding back and forth was taking less out since it was already working through a two-inch hole.

His knife's sound when it hit the metal bar in the hole and the snap brought him to tears.

That mistake had turned the three-inch blade into a one-inch blade and was worthless at this point.

Sobbing, he dropped it, pounding his fists against the door.

He wailed and pounded on it, not caring if anyone heard him.

“Max! Can you hear me, Max?!”

Jerking himself back, he recognized that voice.

“Caleb?!”

The side of the wagon on his right tapped three times.

“I’m here, and so is your sister. We are going to try and get you out!”

Overcome with joy, Max pressed against the door and banged on it a few times.

“I broke my knife! I took out half of the wood!”

He heard some scraping and groaning on the door's other side.

Peering through the keyhole, he saw his friend's blond hair matted to his head. Occasionally, his sister's brown hair flew by the hole when Caleb’s head moved out of the way for a second.

“Stand back a moment!” Caleb cried out. “We are going to try and time the next shout and pop this open.”

Moving back a few feet, Max prayed for a moment before stopping.

Why would I pray if you didn’t listen to me at any other time?! If you can’t get me out of this mess now, you can kiss your promise of riches and dedication goodbye!

Giving the middle finger to the ceiling of his prison, Max watched and waited as he heard the door creak for a moment.

When a cheer echoed through town, a snapping sound came from the door. He started to move toward it until he heard his sister call out.

“Wait! Not yet! One more big push!”

Putting a finger in his mouth to bite his nail, a habit he wished he had been able to overcome by now, Max tasted the dried blood on his hand from where he had ripped the skin on his wrists.

He knew another round of applause should come soon, and when it did, he heard a solid crack and saw light appear where the lock was before the door opened.

Shielding his eyes from the brightness outside, he squinted and saw his friend and sister.

Their eyes were wide in terror, but they were committed.

“Come on, we gotta go! There are only four more left!”

Nodding at Caleb, he moved to the edge and slid out of the wagon.

Landing on the ground sent him to his knees as his sister shut the door over him.

“Get up!” Caleb ordered as he grabbed his shoulder and arm, pulling him to his feet.

They ducked around the side of the wagon and began running through town. After passing a few streets, Max tried to slow down, but both motioned for him to keep running with them.

A dozen streets passed. They were sweating, breathing hard, their clothes matted to their bodies. His sister's dress clung to her like a glove, and Max noticed Caleb averting his eyes.

“Here,” his sister said as she pointed to an alley ahead.

Ducking into it, they all leaned against the stone walls of the buildings, ignoring the boxes, barrels, and trash.

A loud applause echoed through the city; they all knew what that meant.

“It’s over. We need to go.”

Caleb’s voice was unusually quiet as he said those words. He moved to a box and pulled out a small pack.

“Here,” he said as he shoved them into Max’s hand. “You’ll need this. Run and try to make it to the next city. If you stay here, you know what will happen.”

His chest hurt, not from the running but from what he saw on his childhood friend's face, and then he noticed his sister had the same look on hers.

"Wait! I need you to know something first!"

Max looked at the two people he cared about the most. They were willing to risk their lives for his.

"I have a skill. I have two skills actually."

Both Caleb and Stacy looked at him in shock and confusion.

"What? That's not possible," Caleb said as he tried to understand what Max was saying.

"I do. I have baking and another skill. It's--"

"Stop!" Stacy shouted, cutting him off. "Just stop. I can't deal with this right now. You need to go! We are out of time and they will be looking for you."

"But--"

Caleb held up his hand and shook his head. He then motioned to Stacy who was trying not to cry as she looked down at the ground. Later he mouthed.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Max whispered.

She dashed forward, hugging him tightly before pulling back and nodding at Caleb.

“We can’t help anymore,” she said quietly. “Mom and Dad don’t know what we have done, but there will be questions. We need to move fast if we are going to be safe. Go, brother! I love you!”

“I’ll watch over her and your parents, but you must run. Don’t stop till you reach the forest!” Caleb told him as Stacy started to run up the alley.

Caleb didn’t wait for him to respond. There were tears in his eyes, and even though Max wanted to run after them both and tell them to wait, he knew that moment wasn’t possible.

The only chance he had right now was getting out of town and somewhere he could camp for the night.

He threw the pack over his shoulder and wiped his cheeks once with his arm.

Whatever I need to do, I’ll make sure to figure out why they did this to me.

Looking up at the sky as he ran, he grunted.

“I guess I owe someone up there something. Help me find a way to be able to come back home, and I’ll do anything you ask.”