Cursed Explorer of the Arcana

“So what are your plans after your System unlocks?” I ask the others, fired up after yesterday's events.

We’re still in the park, under the watchful eyes of Nia’s dad, currently on child watch duty. I can’t see us sticking around for long though.

The park is… okay. We can come up with some games or just run around or get into a fight... good stuff. Anyway, the park is as good as a big patch of grass with some trees can be, the rest of the city however, that’s the adults' playground and we like to explore it.

“I’ll be the commander of the Griffon Knights, and she’ll be my adjutant.” Declares Frans while pointing at Connie.

“She asked about your plans, don’t rope me into your stupid fantasies.” Connie protests. “Who would want all that limelight, the attention? I’d much rather do something secretive, like becoming the Master Thief of the East or something.” Connie pulls up her shirt like a mask and crouches all sneaky.

I’m not sure which one of them is more delusional. The one who yearns to be the best warrior or the other planning to be the best at hide and seek?

“Tck, children.” Jappo chimes in. Oh, here it comes. “Have more realistic goals.” Inquisitive eyes turn his way. “I will become a businessman. A merchant or maybe a banker earning enough gold to build even the latrine out of it.” He smiles proudly.

The rest of us just sigh with defeated looks. We’ve heard similar plans already from him about how his future is covered in gold and how successful his business is gonna be.

“Talk about delusion.” Frans mutters.

“Nia?” I interject to get the rest of their answers before another brawl has a chance to break out.

“Me? Uhmm…” She taps her ear while thinking. “I’m not sure.”

Yeah, just as I guessed, she has no idea. To be honest I’m kinda the same. There are too many options, too many good options.

I wanna know more about magic so a researcher or scholar class sounds fun, although the act of learning more about magic does sound boring. I also like making things, from sand castles during summer to baskets with Dad at home. It's just… satisfying to see your work become whole, so crafting classes are also on the table. Even exploring the seas as a captain of my own ships sounds super exciting and the list goes on and on.

“Something calm, where I can work in nature, where I’m not bogged down in a boring room; similar to a gardener maybe?” Nia finds her answer.

“What about you Eli? Anything concrete?” Connie inquires.

“Absolutely… nothing.” I say dejectedly.

“Not even something like Jappo?” Frans asks half-heartedly.

Jappo, despite his gnomish nature and body, is ready to throw fists when the situation requires, and Frans is toeing that line.

“I’d like to look around the world and make things at the same time while avoiding getting hurt and being in danger if possible. I’ll leave the fighting to the likes of you who wish to die early.” I guess.

“Then you could be my squire.” Frans jumps enthusiastically.

“Like hell I would!” I slap him, signaling the start of our usual song and dance.

This results in dirty clothes, a few black eyes, and bruises, soon after which we exhaust our reserves. Fights rarely end with lasting grudges, everyone solving their issues with a few well-aimed punches.

Early on, whoever's parents were overseeing us that day would try breaking us up when we fought. But after months of the same stuff they've given up, now only looking mournful when their child gets dirt shoved into their mouth.

“So, heh, market?” Frans asks, flat on the ground and gasping for air.

“Two more minutes.” Nia says.

“Make it five.” Typical Jappo, completely wiped out from such a short brawl.

“Why not the docks?” I ask.

I’m in no better condition than the others, except for Connie, who somehow always gets off the easiest. What her secret is, I don’t know... Maybe she's already practicing for her choice of career. The worst side effect of the rough-and-tumble is the dirt that gets into our shoes and clothes, making everything all itchy.

“What for? We’ve gathered enough shells as it is, and the dockhands are just gonna shoo us away again.” Jappo says.

“Fishing.” I reveal my genius idea.

“Nice, I’m in.” Bolts up Frans, always easy to convince.

“With what rod? With what fishing experience?” Ugh, Jappo shut up!

“With pure genius and improvisation!” I say shamelessly.

To prove my point I grab a longer stick and search for anything to use as a line. The first thing that catches my attention is a spiderweb but even I’m not that much of an amateur. A rope is way too thick… Asking any of our parents would screw up the plan.

“We’ll find some line at the docks, c’mon grab a good stick.” I still have no idea how we will actually make a working fishing rod.

The others don’t protest my idea, it's new and worth a try. We’re still kids and we like to believe that if we try something it might succeed, as our chances are a lot better when we give it a go instead of giving up from the start.

***

As usual, we pretend to play hide and seek, most of us find cover in the thick bushes, and then as soon as all of us are out of sight, we escape. Despite technically being restricted to our houses and the park; we know the streets like the back of our hands. Playing many city-spanning, wild games of tag does have its advantages.

We try to stick to the less crowded alleys where we can run around a bit more freely while at the same time trying to avoid any too shady-looking nooks and crannies. The stories our parents have told us and the few glimpses we’ve seen are enough to quell our adventurous spirit.

“Race to the market!” Nia declares, of course she does, she’s the fastest. “The last one is a goblin!”

The moment the word ‘Race’ leaves her mouth everyone’s already sprinting down the narrow street. These races are especially fun with the obstacles and people mixing up the track, just for some added difficulty.

Sometimes we get nasty and hamper each other, still the worst is when you run into an adult. They get pissed and you lose a lot of time. Stupid adults.

This race is no different. The first to break the holy rules of race is Jappo as usual since he doesn’t have much chance otherwise. He throws… something that trips Connie up, who in turn drags her brother down. A quick two-for-one. Nia is firmly in the lead with me coming in second but I know she’s more agile than me, so Jappo's tactic it is.

I grab a munched shoe and sling it after her. She dodges with grace and that enviable nimbleness of hers, even showing a cheeky smile as she looks back. I hurl a few more objects after her, all of which she dodges with the same ease.

Then… THEN she turns back, running backwards and sticks her tongue out just to spite me. We’re almost there and she seems unstoppable. I’m pumping my legs as fast as I can, yet nothing can stop her now, I'm doomed.

Nothing, except that absolute unit of a man that just rounded the corner. Poor poor Nia running backward has no idea what’s coming… until a wide mocking smile crests my face.

Good, she’s done for, this race is mine. Nia runs head-first into the man, at least ten times her weight, and bounces like a seagull off a glass window. The man catches her and lifts my friend by the collar. I’m not worried about her, the dude is huge but looks clean and amused.

I cackle loudly while passing her, schadenfreude to the maximum.

Then… I get yanked back by my shirt.

“I know what you imps are doing here. A little street race, eh?” His voice is deep yet nonthreatening. “Don’t look so frightened, I too was a kid once and have done my fair share of dumb things. You’re in no trouble, although I’ll do something now I regret overlooking at your age.” He smiles.

Frans and Connie are still tearing at each other, while Nia and I are in minor trouble. Jappo on the other hand, just dodges boxes, jumps sewage canals and runs past us with wonder in his eyes.

“Let everyone have a chance at tasting that sweet victory.” He nods with a satisfied smile.

After a few seconds, he puts me down.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, besides throwing things, that’s a nasty move. Off you go!” He waves me away. “You, young lady owe me an apology, don’t you think?” He turns back to Nia.

I don’t dawdle, bolting after Jappo in the hopes of catching up. I pass the main street, round two more corners, below an overpass and… Damn, he got it.

“Finally! I won, I was first!” He jumps in joy. “I finally got first!!!” He’s all smiles, jovially laughing without a care in the world.

Somehow my indignation at the unfair roadblock and the grumpiness due to not being first disappears. The anger doesn’t fully vanish, it just shifts from trying to find a way to get even after losing to instead feeling a bit ashamed of myself.

Has he really never won a race? Never being first… that sounds horrible, like not being enough, never deserving to be the best. This was fair, a different kind of fair, still, I’m happy the man-bear did what he did. I almost feel a bit happy for him, happy despite being beaten and I hate losing.

I walk over to him and throw an arm around his shoulder. “So, who do you think will be the goblin?” I joke.

***

We didn’t have to wait long. Connie lost, she’s today's goblin. Everybody hates that name. Goblins are hideous and smell like a gutter; or so Mom has told me.

The search for any fishing line turned out a lot easier than expected. Many fishermen have some leftover strings, either excess bought or a line that snapped. Any hook-shaped sharp object will do as a fishing hook and voila, we have working fishing rods.

We use anything we can find as bait. Breadcrumbs, a piece of cheese, leaves, rodents, anything.

All there is now is to sit down on the pier and wait.

Sadly… we’re bad at waiting.

“This is bo~ring.” Frans is unsurprisingly the first to whine. “Can’t we just go to the market already?”

“Patience, the key to fishing is patience.” Jappo calms him.

Ever since the race he’s been a lot more enthusiastic about the whole fishing thing.

“Youngsters!” An old man with uneven steps approaches us. The happy mumbling and half-empty bottle in his hand are clear implications for his mental state. “Fishin are we?”

There are two ways to deal with drunkards. Ignore them or play along. If you brush them aside they might take offense to it and become aggressive and we as kids can’t deal with that. So that leaves option two, be nice, talk with them, and make him feel less dumb.

“Yeah. It's not too interesting though. No catch, maybe it's just bad luck.” I answer the man in a friendly manner.

He plops down beside me and chugs deep from his bottle, the liquid likely as vile as its smell.

“The act of fishin itself isn’t what makes it interesting, the company you’re in or the time you have to think are its strong points.” Despite his state, his train of thought is fairly bright.

We all grow silent and if the others are anything like me they’re trying to find something to think about. Such complicated thoughts aren’t the forte of our people our age. Thinking on purpose is difficult.

“Remember what you asked in the park Eli?” Nia breaks the silence and I nod. “Something like this.” She sighs. “I could imagine myself doing something similar. A bit more bustle would be nice but I like the calm, the breeze.” She closes her eyes and enjoys the afternoon sunlight.

I would also enjoy it any other time, right now I’m waiting for my fish to bite. Also trying to hold the gag back from the combined smell of the old dude, his booze and just the general harbor stench.

“That lassie gets it.” The old dude interjects again. Read the room man. “Fishin isn’t actually about fishin. It’s about the time between sitting down and something setting the hook.”

“I don’t get it.” Frans complains. “Isn’t the point of fishing to catch… you know, fish?”

I don’t get it either, and I won't admit to that. Waiting is boring and what the old man talks about is just waiting in its purest form.

“You kids have plenty of time to think, I doubt you’ll catch anything with those botched rods anyways.” He snickers and clumsily gets to his feet.

“No way!” Nia shouts.

“Yeah, even your bait is… No way!” The old man echoes her words.

We follow their eyes and …

“No way!” We yelp in a choir, completely baffled.

We hooked one.