《What Will Be | Book 2: The Fifth Stage [Book 1 Complete]》 Prologue It was raining when I died. A singular detail, the sole survivor of myriad others washed away by circumstance. Whatever the cause, my death was a certainty. Beyond denial, beyond reproach; it was cold, it was uncaring, but it was Truth. I denied it anyway. Phantom limbs thrashed. A silent voice roared. Nothing. An obvious development, in hindsight, obscured from cognizance until I sought it out. The dead had no limbs. The dead had no voice. Death was non-existence. It was nothing. Nothing. Conceptually, to discuss that which cannot be was largely an exercise in futility. It was neither beginning nor end nor space nor time. There was no stretch of endless blackness, for even that would have been something, and nothing was not something. It was nothing. And I was an intruder, the something that should not be. What was I? There was no mind, no body, and yet, I was. I thought without a brain. I felt without a heart. I knew of lions and ruby slippers yet such things should have been beyond me. The soul, I suppose, I told myself. It was a new kind of thought, an inner voice; another something birthed into the void. It pushed against boundaries that did not exist, and as it faded away the something that was me grew to fill its place. I remembered the rain. Then, I remembered more. I almost wished I hadn¡¯t. The specific circumstances surrounding my death remained lost to me. Instead, I remembered the life that came before it. In remembering, I found context. In context, I found pain. I had a life. It was not the most glamorous life, but it was mine. I wore socks the day I died, novelty socks featuring dinosaurs and hotdogs. A splash of whimsy I claimed for myself and I felt that was somehow important. Memories brought feelings, and each new something pushed against the Nothing. There was a wrongness to it, yet even that was a new something and only served to further shake that which could not be shaken. I paid it no mind. I was swept away by recollections and an ever growing dread. Flashes of family. Thoughts of friends. The life I led flooded through me. It took an instant. It took an eternity. Time was a something that still refused to intrude. I was home with my dog before I died. She was a German Shepherd who loved walks and knew how to make me feel guilty with nothing but a look whenever she was left home alone. The Nothing strained and stretched as the nebulous something that was me continued to struggle against it. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. And I was leaving. It was raining, but I didn¡¯t bring an umbrella. I wouldn¡¯t be gone long because- Every new memory, thought, and emotion did not belong in the Nothing yet I refused to let them go. They were heavy. They hurt. Yet I knew if I let them go I might lose them forever. I finally remembered why I could not let that happen. My fianc¨¦. A shudder rippled through the Nothing as a new wave, the largest yet, tore through my being. I had possessed a love I once thought impossible. And now I am dead¡­ The shudder turned into a quake as I was forced to experience some of my happiest memories through a lens of dread, but I dared not deny them. They were all I had left. I remembered our first date. I was so nervous that my palms were practically dripping with sweat. She was so beautiful. We lost track of time talking about wordplay and dice. We held hands at one point, and I was mortified for surely she¡¯d be dissuaded. Her hands were sweaty too. Baffling. She was so amazing, so I couldn¡¯t help but wonder what she had to be nervous about. We shared a bashful moment of embarrassment and acceptance. I didn¡¯t realize it at the time, but I''d already fallen in love with her that day. I remembered all the little moments of our life together while we dated. She would nuzzle into my side while I read a book and watch one of her reality shows with headphones in. We didn¡¯t always have to be doing the same thing, we just enjoyed doing them together. Sometimes our dog would rest her head on one of our legs so as to not feel left out. All relationships require effort, but it never really felt like that with us. We had our disagreements and our days overshadowed by financial burdens or grief, but we faced them together. That was enough for us. I remembered proposing. It was the strangest thing, I felt less nervous proposing than I did on that first date. It wasn¡¯t scary to me, not even a little bit. I was going to spend the rest of my life with her. We were walking on the beach, she loved- No, not loved. Loves, I thought sadly, my recollections briefly interrupted. I was the one who was dead, not her. I fled back into memory, even as The Nothing started to warp around the edges, edges which it should not have had to begin with. We walked barefoot in the sand. I fished the ring box from my pocket, fell a step behind her, and took a knee. When she turned to investigate, it was with a bemused expression. I had a tendency to get distracted by the scenery and lose pace with her, a tendency I shamelessly twisted to my advantage. As she realized what was actually happening, pure happiness blossomed on her face. Then she cried, but a good cry. A happy cry. I was rocked by a final surge of emotion as the pain of loss threatened to overwhelm me. It was too much for The Nothing. Where once it strained and buckled, now it tore. A small rip. A pinprick of light. I was pulled towards the light, or perhaps it was pulled towards me. It was impossible to tell. Until it wasn¡¯t. Feeling returned to me suddenly and all at once in all the worst ways. Pressure. Disorientation. Discomfort. The light was gone. The pressure built, and built, and built until finally blissful relief graced me. Air grazed my skin. Sensation had returned. It was hot and cold and much too everything. I felt so overwhelmed that I could not help myself. I started to cry. I cried like a baby. I cried much too much like a baby. A single moment of adrenaline fueled clarity allowed me to pierce my disorientation. I couldn¡¯t see. I tried to move, but my body¡¯s stubby limbs refused to cooperate. Realisation set in first. Panic joined it shortly after, and still I cried uncontrollably. It was to be expected; I was a newborn, after all. What in the actual f- Chapter 1 ¡°I remember reading books that did this thing where they began each chapter with a quote to add some interesting context to the chapter or even just author commentary. I always found it quite charming.¡± ~Unknown The specifics of my rebirth were largely lost to me. Between the shock, bodily discomfort, and existential crisis, I wasn¡¯t exactly taking comprehensive notes. After the fact, I couldn¡¯t help but compare my experience to some of the reincarnation stories I¡¯d read during my first life. Protagonists would pop out of the womb then start pointing out fine details about their environment and having rational thoughts. Fuck. That. My eyes were glazed with blood, gunk, and God knows what else. I could barely tell up from down and newborn brains aren¡¯t exactly well suited to Holmes-esque deductions. If my existence in The Nothing as a maybe-soul was the software, then my baby brain was the hardware. It was like running a next-gen video game on a toaster. Sure, you might get a flicker of performance but the whole thing shuts down before any meaningful progress is made. I existed in brief windows of pseudo-sapience before returning to the fugue. My early life primarily consisted of uncomfortable emotions, uncontrollable body functions and instinctively suckling the occasional nipple. Even if I did notice things, it was difficult to commit them to memory. An accurate recount of my coping mechanisms at the time also escapes recollection. I suspect I didn''t cope. It was probably a marathon panic attack now safely quarantined in the forbidden back rooms of my mind behind the Big Black Door marked ''repressed as fuck''. All I know is that I came out the other side of those early weeks and months ready to¡­ not accept, but at least entertain the details of my new reality. All the evidence I had suggested I was still human, but I couldn¡¯t be certain. If reincarnation was real it meant I needed to keep an open mind. I might have been a platypus-person or something else equally fantastical for all I knew. It¡¯s not like I had a mirror in my crib. The people I assumed were my parents appeared human to my barely functioning baby eyes, which helped. Making out even scant details through the fog of my memories at the time was tricky, but it was enough to stave off the impending identity crisis. Their general proportions seemed about right when viewed as a blurry silhouette. There were no signs of additional limbs or horn-like growths on their heads. I felt the usual number of fingers when I was picked up and their skin didn¡¯t feel unnaturally rough, scaly or slimy. When they spoke to me it sounded familiar even if I didn''t understand any of the words. They weren''t speaking English or any language I recognized but it sounded vaguely South American. It wasn¡¯t Spanish, but the cadence reminded me of it. It was all very human¡­ hopefully. I had questions, but until I was able to support the weight of my own head I concluded that my options were limited. Eventually, I was able to remain cognizant for more than 10 minutes at a time which was a big moment for me. I tried to pump my fist in celebration but my half baked nervous system decided I should jerk my leg and soil myself instead. Small victories, I guess. Those little milestones broke up the monotony of my days and I grew to eagerly anticipate them. Most of my time was spent swaddled in a crib made of dark wood. It was about as cozy as one might expect given my lack of mobility. I might complain a lot so in fairness being a baby also had its benefits. I was able to stay swaddled in one position for hours at a time without the burgeoning lower back discomfort I¡¯d been growing used to. Before dying if I had the audacity to sleep wrong I''d have to write off my weekend and consume a cocktail of pain relief medication. Returning to the squishy flexibility of a baby removed all those aches and pains. It didn''t quite make up for the boredom though. There was no music playing in the background, no sounds of television filtering in from another room, and since I couldn¡¯t conjure my smartphone from across the aether I was left with precious few options to pass the time. I had a rotating cast of three greyish-white crocheted animals to keep me company. Crocheted, not knit. My fianc¨¦e made sure to educate me on the nuance of her crafting hobbies and it was paying dividends in the strangest way possible. There was a dog, a sheep, and something I didn¡¯t recognize. It looked like someone slapped the stumpy legs of a rhino onto the stumpier body of a grumpy toad. Cuddly as they were, crocheted animals didn''t exactly make for vigorous conversation partners. The lack of stimulation left me alone with thoughts I didn''t want to have, so I did the mature thing and ignored them. Instead, I tried putting the time to good use. What were my goals? What were my plans? These were all questions I asked myself. Ultimately, what I wanted most of all was to find a way back home. If my soul was sent here, then maybe¡­ I let the thought trail off.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. It was hard to convince myself I had any real shot at going back. Whatever had happened to me felt like it bordered on unique and was beyond anything I knew to be possible. It was like magic. Magic. I wonder¡­ That inconsequential, little thought latched its claws into me. In my experience, stories that dealt with fantastical reincarnation presented magic one of two ways. The first was nebulous, infinitely varied and most likely impossible for me to test for until I was old enough to ask questions. I didn''t even know where to begin, so it became Plan B. As for the second type¡­ I could test for it straight away. This was a test I was familiar with since I''d performed it in front of my fianc¨¦e more than once, much to her amusement. Not that I ever truly expected it to work, but I once jokingly argued with her that if I never tried then I would never know for sure. That same spark of hopeful optimism reignited as I stared intently into the middle-distance. Status, I thought.
System Initiated Time Until Core Skill Selection 63:13:24:16
To my literal pant-shitting surprise, a faintly transparent blue screen flickered into existence just in front of me. As I watched in stunned silence the 16 ticked down with each passing second. Organized thoughts to commemorate the discovery were beyond my grasp, but I tried my best. Well. Fuck. Not my finest work, but it summed up the broad strokes of how I was feeling. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated. *** Pre-occupied as I was by the presence of a System screen, I failed to notice the pair of hands reaching into my crib until they hoisted me into the air. I was positioned with my head resting gently on what I had come to recognize as my mother''s shoulder. She smelled familiar. Baby brains are weird. I felt the gentle rumble in her chest as she hummed a lullaby to me. Did I need soothing? I probably made some kind of shocked baby-noise when the screen appeared, meaning she was trying to disarm a potential baby bomb. I''d thought I''d gotten better at moderating those involuntary outbursts but sometimes instinct took over. The worst was when my response to stomach cramps was to wail like a tiny banshee. Please refer to my earlier comment on baby brains. I could still see the System Notification floating just in front of me, seemingly unnoticed by my mother. A curl of her chestnut hair tickled my scalp as she gently walked around the room. Either infants calling up their status screens was normal enough to merit such an underreaction or she was oblivious to it. Either way, it seemed to be a non-issue. Unless it was some kind of hallucination. Honestly, I probably accepted the reality of the situation far sooner than I should have. I was right to, but it was the most reckless choice I made in those early days. It probably had something to do with how I was feeling. Twin emotions warred in me at the discovery of a System, like metaphorical wolves from an urban housewife''s social media post. My situation had officially entered the realm of fantasy fiction, reincarnation aside. I wasn¡¯t even sure if I was on Earth anymore. Sure, it was possible I was on Earth in the far future. Maybe the System was just the natural evolution of mobile device addiction after it burst from its weirdly throbbing, crowd-funded cocoon. It didn''t really matter. The world I knew was lost to me, probably forever. Spurred by desperation, I tucked a seed of hope deep inside myself. Magic was real, and if magic was real¡­ There still might be a way to get back home. Until I learned more about my new world, I wasn''t going to rule it out. I couldn''t. The sorrow I''d kept tight under lock and key began to rear its head, urging me to grieve for what I refused to accept was truly gone. At the same time, I couldn''t help but feel excited. This was magic. It wasn''t flashy magic, but still, the part of me that used to spend weekends devouring web novels couldn''t wait to explore what the System had to offer. I loathed myself for it. Close. I tried pushing the thought at the System window by scrunching up my baby face and willing it so. While it would be unwise to assume that my experiences with System fantasy fiction would give me an innate understanding of how this whole thing worked, I could at least draw on it to give me ideas. It may have been the word I thought or simply the desire behind it, but the screen vanished just as suddenly as it appeared. I could experiment later. A tiny yawn squeaked its way out of my mouth. My mother''s gentle rocking and lullaby were doing their job. Big feelings were exhausting work for a baby. I was surprised I hadn''t devolved into a snot-bubbling mess but evidently the shock and conflicting emotions had pushed me full circle. It wasn''t that I was at ease with the situation- far from it. FAR from it. I was just numb to it, at least temporarily. That type of repression probably wasn''t healthy for my developing brain. Then again, if having the memories of a guy in his 30''s cosmically shoehorned in there didn''t turn my grey matter to mush, I suspected I''d probably be fine. And then my mother changed me. In all the excitement I''d forgotten about all the excrement. I won''t regale you with the details. You''re welcome. Just know that my mental escape at the time was the realization that, if my math was correct, I''d have to choose a Core Skill in a little over 63 days. What''s a Core Skill? I was asking myself the same question. I didn''t have an answer. Chapter 2 "Epigraph! They are called epigraphs. I knew I knew the word and it was irking me that I could not remember it. To summarize, those ''top of the chapter¡¯ things are called epigraphs." ~Unknown
Time Until Core Skill Selection 24:09:33:42
It had been almost 40 days since I first called up a System interface straight out of fantasy fiction. Real talk, the past few weeks were not my proudest. It''s one thing to tell yourself not to think about painful things, but if it were that easy, therapists wouldn''t be charging absurd hourly rates. The worst part? It was getting easier to cope. I was able to compartmentalize. Objectively, I knew it was a good thing, a sign of healing. Scarred, mangled healing but healing all the same. It didn''t mean that the waves of guilt I felt were any less debilitating. I''d convinced myself that being less paralyzed by grief meant I was betraying the life I once had and the people I left behind. Fortunately, being gripped by the occasional need to cry myself to sleep was standard baby behavior so hopefully I hadn''t roused any undue suspicion. I was starting to piece together the language since my excursions outside the crib were growing longer and more frequent. It was an issue of exposure to vocabulary. The additional opportunities to watch my parents interact with each other beyond the baby-talk they used on me did wonders for my growing comprehension. I wasn''t bilingual in my first life. Learning a second language always felt like an impossible barrier to me. I collected an eclectic sample of words and phrases but that was the limit of my casual capabilities. This time, though, it wasn''t that I wanted to learn a new language. I needed to. Even with such potent motivation I had my doubts. Fortunately, the benefits of my baby brain started to reveal themselves. One of my fianc¨¦e¡¯s friends had a toddler and would gab about the wisdom from her mountain of overpriced baby books. Apparently, humans have the highest capacity for learning in their early years of life. Our young brains are like little sponges, a perk I was now benefiting from despite my unique circumstances. I still hadn''t tried articulating any words and I planned to keep it that way. According to ¡®the literature¡¯, something-teen months was the average age that babies started speaking. I wasn''t really paying attention when I heard about it, but I got the gist. Until my parents started staring me down and endlessly repeating their language''s equivalent of ''mama'' or ''dada'' at me I was content to lay low. At no point did I want to intentionally risk outing myself as a reincarnated, adult man. I couldn¡¯t imagine that conversation ending in anything other than disaster. "So, turns out you¡¯ve been babying a grown ass man in his 30s and treating him like the son I probably inadvertently stole from you." Yeah... No. Not going to happen. I knew that relationships built on a foundation of dishonesty weren¡¯t known for their stability, but unfiltered honesty was also problematic. I¡¯d reevaluate when I was less dependent on my parents for survival, but I wanted to do right by them. If that meant keeping my origins a secret, so be it. If I later decided that it meant revealing myself and being chased out of their lives¡­ Well, so be it. *** This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. By that point my regular descents into the newborn fugue had started tapering off. Finally, I had the time and mental resources to start noticing more about the world around me. This mostly meant that I was able to start recognizing what my parents looked like beyond being vaguely humanoid blobs. I failed to consider that I still had a baby body, however, and one detail stood out above the rest. They were massive! Rationally, I knew they just seemed massive compared to me, but still. It''s easy to forget how large the world looks when you''re young. Memories of memories contrast with our adult perspectives and dull the awe of being surrounded by giants. I confirmed my parents were human which wasn''t particularly helpful in narrowing down the specifics of where or when I was. At that point I decided I would try to let the matter rest until I could get some concrete answers beyond blind speculation. The specifics paled in comparison to the harsh fact that I was displaced from the home I knew. Obsessing over fragments of inconclusive evidence would only make me feel stressed. ¡­ more stressed. My father''s name eluded me. I''d only heard him referred to as ''love'' or some rough equivalent. With the limited contextual exposure to the language I had, it was one of the few words I''d been able to confidently decipher. There was a solidity to the man. Not the chiseled physique of someone with a workout regime, but the practical build of someone who developed muscle after years of labor. His hands felt rough, like they were calloused, but he was always gentle with me as if worried he¡¯d accidentally break me. I felt a kinship to the man. I too was awkward when handling small children. I only grew further endeared when I observed him interacting with my mother. It was the lingering looks and spontaneous smiles they inspired in one another. Sometimes the love people share is just so obvious. It reminded me of my fianc¨¦e and I in ways that were far too bittersweet. Hazelnut eyes framed by an olive complexion regarded me softly whenever my father gingerly held me up for inspection. It struck me that his face was always cleanly shaved. Either he couldn''t grow any facial hair or went through the trouble to remove it daily. His hair colour reminded me of dark chocolate and the dense strands never strayed below his shoulders. Small twigs or leaves were regularly tangled in its clutches. It would explain why such woodsy odors clung to him most of the time. I began to suspect we lived near a forest. I''d only heard my mother''s name once at that point. It was an argument of sorts that pushed my father to use it instead of their usual terms of endearment. I couldn¡¯t understand what they were disagreeing about in any meaningful detail, but I recognized irritation when I heard it. My mother''s eyes are that fickle shade of green that changes depending on the lighting, her mood, or just because. When my father used her name, they briefly flickered to a shade I have since cataloged as ''danger-green''. I had no way of knowing what ignited their argument, but it was probably one of the many stressors that a newborn can place on a relationship. Regardless, it''s how I learned my mother¡¯s name. Tina. Not Tina exactly. There was nuance to the pronunciation when filtered through their language but it''s the closest approximation I can convey. Names and titles are funny little things. I was still struggling to define the relationship I wanted with my new parents. I had to ask myself if I was willing to accept them as my mother and father, and not just publicly. I¡¯d call them mom and dad as a survival tactic if I had to, even though I wouldn¡¯t be proud of it. I wanted to know if I could accept them as family, truly and honestly. I tried not to revisit my worries about them accepting me if they found out who I really was. That was a separate concern, or so I told myself. The issue gnawed at me and poked at still raw wounds. I still had parents in my old life and was worried I''d be betraying them by accepting new ones. My dad and I were especially close. He was a goofball who claimed Billy Joel was his favorite musician yet still regularly flubbed the lyrics when singing along and I loved him for it. As I grew older, I beamed with pride whenever a family friend said I reminded them of him. You can imagine my surprise when, as a teenager, I found out he was technically my stepfather. After the initial shock, I decided I didn''t care. My dad was my dad, plain and simple, genetics be damned. That experience is what decided it for me, I think. It''s what gave me the strength to believe that no matter what, my first parents would always be just that. Families can be complex and don''t have to fit into any neat little boxes. I had a new father, but it didn''t mean I was losing my old one. I had a new mother, but it didn''t mean I was losing my old one. ¡­ and I had a new name. I didn''t usually make a habit of referring to myself in the third person, so it had been a while since I considered my old name. Even now, I think I''ll keep it to myself as a secret treasure, something for the people waiting for me somewhere beyond distance. You get the new name. My name is Will. Chapter 3 "By all accounts, epigraphs should probably be written after a chapter; a sort of literary fruit to top the sweetbread. If they are written first then they might not even make sense in the context of the chapter, right?" ~Unknown
Time Until Core Skill Selection 21:14:31:42
Three weeks before I had to select a Core Skill I spent the morning battling boredom by studying the wooden beams supporting my room¡¯s arched ceiling. There was no smooth plaster or light fixture in sight, but sunlight gently filtering in through the paned glass window gave the room a soft luminescence. There were many odd inconsistencies with the technology in the house and I hadn¡¯t yet been able to reconcile them. There was sophisticated glass but no light bulbs. There were household items seemingly made with machine levels of precision, but no indoor plumbing. I assumed it had something to do with Skills and tried not to dwell on it. Since I was starting to achieve a measure of equilibrium between my body and mind, I had plenty of time to think. I had too much time to think, hence my intense fascination with ceiling arches. I''d moved beyond my humble beginnings of celebrating an uninterrupted 15 minutes of cognizance. I was even sleeping through the night. This cognitive triumph also gave me plenty of time to focus on my System notification, still unchanged except for the steady ticking down of the timer it displayed. In my first life I read dozens of stories that featured a System of some description. I was initially hopeful that my knowledge of how these things worked in fiction would give me an advantage. My efforts to mentally prod at the System for additional details or some kind of help function were, disappointingly, met with failure. No matter what odd combination of words or phrases I tried, all I could do was open and close the screen. There was no early allocation of stat points or skill points, no System-bestowed titles, nothing. Just the timer. It was vexing. I hadn''t been keeping a perfect count of the passage of time since I was born - those early weeks were still a blur - but I concluded that by the time the counter reached zero I''d be close to 6-months-old. That is, of course, assuming months are still 30ish days. If the System functioned the same for everyone it meant babies were presented with what sounded like an incredibly important decision while potentially marinating in a sullied diaper. It made no sense. That was the first time I realized I didn''t know if anyone else even had a System. There was too much I didn''t know. I tried to focus on what I did know. I knew Core Skills were a thing and that I would have to select one. I also deduced that if there were Core Skills then, presumably, there were other types of skills. It wasn''t much, but it was something. I could only hope that the process of selecting a Core Skill would be when a unique opportunity presented itself to me. Unless everyone was born with memories of their past lives¡­ Whoever said ignorance is bliss was full of- I was pulled away from my musings by the sound of my mother¡¯s footsteps on the wooden floorboards as she entered my room. It wasn''t difficult to tell them apart from my father''s. The solidity of his frame was echoed, sometimes literally, in his footsteps. Compared to that, the gentle steps of my mother made it seem like she was gliding instead of walking. "... Will¡­ time¡­ Baxter," my mother was happily chirping at me as she scooped me out of the crib. I still only understood every other word, but it was odd she mentioned Baxter while taking me out of the bedroom. Baxter was the name of a crocheted dog that regularly accompanied me in my crib and a quick scan of the room as we departed revealed him sitting on his little side table. My mother was wearing a sturdy pair of pants and thick boots which was an outfit I''d come to associate with whatever she did for a living. It was only recently she''d started working again and only for small periods of time while my father watched over me. Having a baby was a universally disruptive practice, it seemed. What is this smell and why is it so familiar? The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. There was a distinct smell that clung to her work clothes that I had difficulty identifying. It was earthy and wet and yet somehow neither. We reached the living room and passed by the rocking chair we usually settled into without pausing. My heart rate began to speed up as a pulse of excitement raced through me. I didn''t want to get my hopes up but couldn''t help craning my neck to confirm our destination. It was the front door! It was finally happening! We were going outside! With deft hands my mother positioned me so that my head was on her shoulder while her free hand opened the door. *** My mother helpfully paused in the open doorway before turning me so that I could see our front yard. A gravel path wove through well maintained vegetable gardens, but I didn''t recognize any of the produce. I''d later learn that there were rough equivalents for all the vegetables I was familiar with. Their potatoes grew on a vine and looked kind of like orange bananas, for example. We did live near a forest! In the near distance I could see the edge of a vibrant pine forest. It stretched to either side as far as I could see, and I could just make out the occasional stump along its border. Before I could finish appreciating the vista my mother spun me back around. Her loving giggle suggested I looked as awestruck as I felt. I wasn''t sure if she was indulging me or herself but I could tell she was enjoying introducing her baby to the world. She stepped onto the path but veered to the right, heading around the house. The forest was not our destination. I was sure I''d have an opportunity to explore it eventually. I inhaled deeply and savored the crisp morning air. Next to the house was a large shed piled high with logs and cuts of wood in various states of preparation. One stack had been cut into long planks, possibly for construction. Another stack was piled high with the branches that had been stripped from fallen trees, but I had no idea what purpose they served. Most of the wood looked like the kind found in lean-tos next to rustic cabins for use in a wood stove or small fireplace. The sheer quantity of it all went beyond what I imagined an ordinary household would need for private use. Off to one side I spied a large stump with an axe embedded into it. The axe was a vicious looking thing with a broad head, leather-wrapped handle and large spike protruding from its butt. Hilarious as that thought was, it didn¡¯t look like a woodchopping axe. It looked like a people-chopping axe. Maybe it was a cultural thing. Regardless, I began to suspect I had figured out what my father''s profession was. If he''s not some kind of lumberjack, I''ll eat the hat I don''t have. There were two paths behind our house. One trailed over a small rise in the landscape so I couldn''t see where it led. The other path, the one my mother took, led to a paddock with a suspiciously clear pond at its center. A barrier of piled stones rimmed the perimeter serving as a rudimentary fence. Dozens of small wooden structures sat in neat lines off to one side of the enclosed space. Another shed, presumably for storage, stood just outside the fence, off the path and close to the gate. I immediately knew what it was. The dozens of gray, furry shapes excitedly running up to the fence to greet my mother were unmistakable. The smell clinging to my mother¡¯s clothes suddenly made sense to me. This was a kennel. Dogs! ¡°... Baxter, Will?¡± My mother¡¯s question caused a mental puzzle piece to slide into place. Dogs¡­ Baxter¡­ Baxta, maybe? It means dog, or dogs, or both. That checks out. The realization made me feel more than a little foolish, but I was too thrilled by the presence of doggos to dwell on it for more than a moment. I knew that, as a baby, my sense of perspective was warped. Like looking into the side mirror of a car, things usually appeared larger than I logically knew them to be. That was not the case with these dogs. They really were massive. Their short, shaggy fur reminded me of Irish Wolfhounds but the largest among them stood a full head and shoulder above the breed I was familiar with. The comparatively smaller dogs had the oversized paws and ears of puppies still in their first couple of years. They outnumbered the adults by a fair margin and were adorable as they were intimidating. I could ride them like a horse. Not that I knew how to ride a horse, but I felt the sentiment held strong all the same. I glanced between the dogs and the waist-high fence of piled stones that surrounded the paddock. I could not fathom it being sufficient to keep the dogs contained, even the pups. The adults could have leapt over it with almost no difficulty. Yet despite their apparent excitement none of them crossed the barrier. I was missing something. The kennel was far enough away from the main house that, unless the dogs were constantly barking, it wouldn''t disturb the occupants. As we approached the gate some of the dogs began to whine with anticipation and my mother shot me a worried glance. I figured she was concerned the dogs might spook me and prompt a fit of crying. I did my best to appear unbothered by making happy baby noises. It worked. She smiled widely at my reaction and shifted me to her hip to free up an arm. She raised her hand, forming it into a sort of ¡®C''-shaped hand signal. Silence. Close to thirty dogs stopped what they were doing and gave my mother ¨C Tina ¨C their full attention. At that moment it didn¡¯t feel right to define her by her relation to me. This was her domain. She said something to the dogs in a tone that brook no argument and since I was still struggling with basic words the shorthand for her commands was lost on me. The dogs understood her though. As one, they moved to an open area of grass and arranged themselves into two equal lines before sitting. They sat still and exuded a quiet dignity with few exceptions. Some of the smaller pups occasionally got distracted but a neighboring adult would quickly correct them. It looked like they were lining up for inspection, the kind of thing you¡¯d see at a military boot camp. What in the actual shit, I thought. It went beyond what should be possible. Dogs could be taught obedience, sure, but what I was seeing was something else entirely. I tilted my head to look up at my mother and saw she was looking back down at me. The wonder in my eyes must have been evident because her smile quirked into a smug smirk. I didn¡¯t begrudge her for it. I¡¯d be smug too. ¡°Time to meet the dogs, Will.¡± It was one of the first full sentences I understood. At the time I made some guesses based on context clues, but I guessed correctly. Tina was officially a badass and I was abso-freakin-lutely ready to meet the dogs. Chapter 4 "As humans, inventing complex connections where none exist comes naturally to us. Especially socially. The personification of Beasts is my favorite example of this phenomenon. Even seasoned Slayers describe impossible grudges held by creatures incapable of such thoughts... The fact that they are sometimes right is the exception which proves the rule." ~Unknown It was difficult to get a good look at any one dog while they were pressed together like a living, shaggy blanket. That was before Tina casually organized them into orderly lines, a display I was still reeling from. As we walked through the open gate I had an opportunity to study the dogs as individuals. One of them initially caught my eye because it sat between the lines instead of in them. It was easily the largest dog in the kennel and possibly the largest dog I¡¯d ever seen. Tina was heading straight for them, still resting me on her hip. At a guess, it sat atop whatever hierarchy had been established and understandably so. I couldn¡¯t take my eyes off them and would have sworn they were staring at me just as intently. It wasn¡¯t just their size that grabbed my attention, though. There was a faint shimmer to their fur where the light caught it. It reminded me of- Is that dog''s fur made of metal? I rapidly blinked my eyes to clear them. The fur still looked like metal. I tried rationalizing the situation. If that dog¡¯s fur was solid metal I would have heard it clinking like dollar store wind chimes. I normally loved serendipity, but when a gentle breeze silently played through the still shimmering strands in response to my thought¡­ I was not appreciative. No matter how I looked at it, that dog¡¯s fur still had a metallic sheen to it. It looked like organic steel wool without the manufactured tonal uniformity. We crossed the final few steps to stand opposite the creature I started to doubt was actually a dog. The top of its head lined up with the bottom of Tina¡¯s chin which left me having to crane my neck upwards from my perch on her hip. That dog could have snatched me up in its jaws and made a valiant attempt at swallowing me whole if it were so inclined. When it tilted its head towards me I saw a literal flash of teeth. Okay, that dog¡¯s chompers are definitely made of metal. Every canine in that canine¡¯s mouth looked like they¡¯d been coated in polished steel. Despite the objective danger such a terrifying animal presented, I wasn¡¯t afraid. I could feel a steady heartbeat through my contact with Tina. She wasn¡¯t worried at all. Based on the way the dogs were behaving, I was inclined to trust her judgment. Deep down I just knew I was safe with her. It was a warm feeling. ¡°Will, this is Vigil,¡± Tina said sweetly. The realization that I had learned the name of a probably-metal dog before learning the name of my father tickled me. I couldn¡¯t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. It came out as one of those heart-warming baby giggles and I heard Tina stifle a small chuckle of her own. ¡°... he likes you, Vigil.¡± I gathered Tina was talking to the dog even though I missed the start of her sentence. Talking to dogs like they were people was a habit I developed in my first life. I felt a connection to Tina when I heard her do the same. It reminded me of how I used to talk to my dog. Sometimes one of her pointed, doggy looks conveyed an entire conversation¡¯s worth of mischief. A shudder threatened to rack my body as the memory stirred emotions that had been lying dormant for days. Thoughts of home were still too tender. I drew on every ounce of stoicism I could to keep my emotions in check. If I start crying she might take me away from the dogs. I don¡¯t want that. Not now. In response to Tina¡¯s words, Vigil grumbled in the way only big dogs can. I heard a repetitive thunk, thunk, thunk as their tail started to wag. Each thunk was accompanied by a small shower of earth and a steadily growing divot like someone was wailing on the ground with a golf club. Vigil¡¯s apparent happiness at my approval was a balm to the spirit. I forced a small smile. Metal or not, a good doggo was a good doggo. The hurt I was feeling didn''t magically go away, but I got a handle on it. I could be sad later.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. I started making grabby hands towards Vigil. I wasn''t technically able to talk yet, but some signals were universal and my curiosity demanded satiation. Tina seemed happy to oblige my childish desires and held me out enough that I could reach the mass of metallic fur. My tiny fingers wove into the strands and I gave the best little squeeze I could muster. It felt like¡­ fur. It felt like regular old dog fur. Well, that wasn''t what I was expecting. Asking about Vigil¡¯s unique constitution skyrocketed up my list of priority questions. I had a hunch this all linked back to the System but I wasn¡¯t going to be satisfied until I knew the details. I couldn¡¯t wait until I was old enough to ask about this stuff without setting off alarm bells. We were at the kennel for well over an hour while Tina took the time to introduce me to each of the dogs. Most didn¡¯t seem out of the ordinary by the standards I was familiar with, but there were a couple of exceptions. None were as obvious in their strangeness as Vigil, but the presence of a metallic dog made me pay close enough attention to spot it. Trunkle had short hair along their snout instead of the usual shaggy gray. In a few places the hair receded entirely to reveal small cavities that resembled nostrils. Vix had an extra tail and I initially mistook her for one of the younger dogs. Unlike the pups, Vix had the proportions of an adult despite her smaller size. She was more lithe than her kennel mates in a way that seemed irregular for the breed. The only pattern I could identify was that none of the younger dogs appeared different in the same way some of the adults did. Vigil shadowed us while we did the rounds. I couldn¡¯t be certain if all the dogs were thrilled by my presence or just cowed by Vigil and Tina, but seeing the puppies do excited butt wiggles was adorable all the same. Tiredness crept up on me and I yawned before I could catch myself. All the excitement must have tired me out and my growing body demanded a nap. Tina helped me wave goodbye to the dogs as we left the kennel and I was asleep before we made it back to the house *** I had a new roommate. Vigil slept next to my crib most nights and accompanied Tina to the kennel during the day. Emboldened by the success of our first outing, Tina also felt increasingly confident in taking me with her which I was happy to encourage with well timed baby laughs. I needed to get out of the house more. It wouldn¡¯t have been practical for Tina to work with one arm occupied by a baby all day which I worried would limit my time with her. I was a big fan of her solution. Vigil would lay down on a soft patch of grass and I¡¯d be propped up against him. It gave me a regular reminder that his fur was surprisingly soft despite its metallic appearance. My initial concerns that I¡¯d slump like a ragdoll without additional support were unfounded. The usually futile efforts I¡¯d made to sit up in my crib evidently helped me build sufficient baby muscle to remain upright. Small victories. Some of the younger dogs occasionally tried to approach us but were deterred by a low growl that rumbled from deep within Vigil¡¯s chest. It was probably for the best. I didn¡¯t want to be accidentally squished by an enthusiastic puppy twice my size. Watching Tina work was a great way to spend the weeks leading up to my Core Skill selection but I couldn¡¯t help but feel I was missing something. Most of what I saw was regular maintenance of the kennel. Sometimes Tina would undergo basic obedience training with the younger dogs which I recognized despite the language barrier. It was how I first inferred the word for ¡®sit¡¯. Still, I couldn¡¯t reconcile the routine with the size, quality, and quantity of the dogs around me. What is their purpose? I hadn¡¯t seen any sign of neighbors. Either we were self-sufficient hermits or part of a thinly spread community. If we were surrounded by farms and farmers then I could see it making sense that Tina bred working dogs. I also considered the possibility that they were livestock guardians, dogs bred to square up with anything desperate enough to prey on farm animals. Vigil seemed like the kind of dog that could make a predator buy a pair of pants just so they could shit them. I remained perplexed until the afternoon I saw my father hauling what could be best described as a large rickshaw loaded with supplies. I recognized the barrels of lightly brined meat Tina pulled from to feed the dogs. I was under the impression that too much salt wasn¡¯t good for dogs, but clearly she knew something I didn¡¯t. My father arrived from the path that disappeared over the rise and paused to wave at us. Clearly, we were getting supplies from somewhere and that somewhere was close enough to reach in less than a day of travel. Until I learned otherwise, my farming community theory seemed the most likely. Still¡­ How was he able to make the journey without straight up dying?! Those wagon wheels were weighed down enough to leave furrows in furrows as they groaned from the burden. It didn¡¯t make any sense. It wasn¡¯t just that my father was hauling the goods; I¡¯d seen footage of strongmen pulling ridiculously heavy things before, but they did it over short distances and jumped in ice baths immediately afterwards. He wasn¡¯t even breaking a sweat. It had to be System related. Inspired, I pulled up the familiar notification.
Time Until Core Skill Selection 01:08:13:21
In less than two days, I¡¯d get some answers. In less than two days, I¡¯d get to choose a Core Skill. I¡¯d prepared as much as I could. I had a plan. I was ready. ¡­ I was wrong. Chapter 5 ¡°Gods dammit, I just spilled my drink all over the manuscript. Can I fix- nope, it is fucked. Don¡¯t any of you dare tell anyone about this. I will end you.¡± ~Unknown The last day of my System countdown was as illuminating as it was stressful. Muted muttering roused me from the light sleep I was only able to claim after a night of excited tossing and turning. I¡¯d barely finished blinking myself awake when my parents came into focus, looming over me like proud gargoyles. They cheered in response to my stirring. It wasn¡¯t a particularly vigorous or spontaneous cheer, but the partially rehearsed cheer adults used around children that bordered on sarcasm. Tina scooped me into her arms and showered me with tiny kisses and I heard a large shape start to move below me. I craned my neck and saw Vigil who had raised his head to inspect the noise. I almost giggled. His squinted eyes and disorganized ears made it clear he was entirely unimpressed by the intrusion. He grumbled before settling back down with a huff. ¡°Oh hush,¡± Tina jokingly scolded before she shared a laugh with my father who also noticed Vigil¡¯s incredulous expression. Sprawled out as he was, Vigil took up most of the floor space which must have made navigating to the crib without disturbing him in the first place a delicate process. The timing of the sudden, weirdly celebratory break in our routine aligned too closely with my Core Skill selection to be a coincidence. It was like some kind of birthday- A System Day It was like some kind of System Day, a way to celebrate that a baby was going to get their Core Skill. I couldn¡¯t be certain but, unless something happened to suggest otherwise, it made the most sense. It meant the countdown was consistent for everyone and my parents had been marking the days. How could they possibly know that it¡¯s the same for everyone, though? Does their society have a way to easily check a person¡¯s status like some kind of¡­ I don¡¯t know, like an inspection skill? Cautiously, I called my System notification up.
Time Until Core Skill Selection 00:17:24:33
Neither of my parents reacted as the screen materialized in front of me. They couldn¡¯t see it. There¡¯d be no point in pretending they couldn¡¯t in front of a baby who didn¡¯t know any better¡­ Honestly, I was a baby who didn¡¯t know any better, even with the whole reincarnation situation. Maybe they could see my screen and acting casual was a superstitious thing. Or maybe in just over 17 hours I was going to glow blue and burp rainbows as Core Skill Selection descended upon me. I tried willing the seconds to pass faster. It didn¡¯t work. Impatience at my ignorance pestered me and every second felt like an hour. Begrudgingly, I accepted that watching the screen all day would be torture, so I willed it to close. My ambient irritation must have inspired a pout because I heard Tina¡¯s delighted giggle moments before she started squeezing my chubby little baby cheeks. It wasn¡¯t the first time it had happened. Evidently she thought grumpy babies were adorable. ¡°I don¡¯t think Will likes that, Love.¡± Thankfully, my father must have noticed my look of displeasure at the treatment. His tone seemed more amused than chiding but I still appreciated that he¡¯d intervene on my behalf. Tina gave a snappy rebuttal that I didn¡¯t quite catch and cackled as she sped us to the main room of the house, a sort of kitchen-dining-living room combo. I heard the rumble of my father¡¯s chuckle chase after us and he was close behind it. I allowed myself a small smile. It was hard to stay grumpy when surrounded by Tina¡¯s aura of whimsy. Besides, I decided that if it really was my ¡®System Day¡¯ then I should at least try to enjoy it. It¡¯s either that or let the anticipation drive me insane. Apart from spending the day together as a family, there were a couple of events that stood out as celebratory. My personal favorite was the food. Specifically, I was given regular food for the first time. Never before had mushy purple paste that tasted vaguely of carrots reached such culinary heights! I could only hope the trend would continue. My regular feedings were getting harder to repress the more my brain developed. Shortly after the meal, Tina sat on the ground with me in her lap. When I leaned back against her it was with the dazed comfort of the recently full. Such was my contentment that I barely noticed when her fingers gently wrapped around my wrists. I started to clap. It was an anticipatory clap, the kind you¡¯d hear at a sporting event. Tina was marionetting me like a clumsy puppet but I decided to let it continue without causing a fuss. What can I say? The food put me in a cooperative mood. Tina started chanting something at my father who obliged whatever the request was by producing twelve wooden coins from a pouch tied to his belt. He organized the coins on the floor in an even line and Tina leaned me forward to get a look at them. Each one had a simple image seemingly hand carved into its face. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The images reminded me of the pictographs you¡¯d see on old-timey store signs. I couldn¡¯t decipher all of them, but they probably had some kind of cultural significance. That one looks kind of like an anvil and¡­ is that one a cow, or something? I turned my head to look up at Tina who had started watching me expectantly. Something about the situation felt familiar and had the ring of superstition to it. Ohh, okay, I think I know what this is. I scanned the collection of coins again. One had three weapons intersecting each other; an axe, sword, and spear. My father used an axe so I reasoned they¡¯d probably find it adorable if I picked it. I squirmed in Tina¡¯s grasp and grabbed at the coin. A repeat of the earlier cheer that I was expecting for ¡®choosing my future¡¯ didn¡¯t come. Just the opposite. It got eerily quiet. My mother¡¯s gentle grip on me tightened, not enough to hurt, but it was uncomfortable. She loosened up almost immediately but something had rattled her. I looked up at my father. His eyes were downcast and his hands were balled into fists. Did I do something wrong? Tina coughed pointedly and my father finally noticed me staring at him. A forced smile covered his concern and he began to politely clap for my tiny accomplishment. The actions of adults at baby parties were one big performance. I knew it and was guilty of it in my first life, but I let my worried excitement cloud my mind to it. As children, we sometimes forget that our parents have their own lives, desires, worries and regrets. Even though I knew better that time around I still stumbled into a fuck up. My father had some baggage. The rest of the day passed by without incident. My parents packed away the coins and subjected me to the catalog of vaguely familiar baby activities they knew. I played along and laughed at every not-peekaboo, but I couldn¡¯t get that harrowed expression out of my head. It¡¯s like I said, the actions of adults at baby parties are one big performance. ***
Time Until Core Skill Selection 0:00:25:21
My eyes watered as I watched the System Window. Nervous anxiety threatened disaster if I peeled my gaze away and somehow missed the moment the last second passed. It was late and I had to struggle to stay awake. Sleep was a primal need and my infantile body wasn¡¯t used to resisting it. I knew academically that sleep and rest were important for a baby so most days I just surrendered to the urge. Sleep was a good way to pass the time. Thinking that I could just stave it off when I needed to was arrogant. I¡¯d flown too close to the sleepy Sun. I embraced the panic. I embraced the anxiety. I tried to fuel it without letting it cloud my judgment. It was the only thing keeping me awake. I¡¯d taken a nap earlier in the day, shortly after the game with the wooden coins. Evidently, it wasn¡¯t enough. I needed a second nap, but when I started feeling the allure of slumber and saw my System countdown still had hours remaining I didn¡¯t trust that I¡¯d wake up in time. Part of me, the sleepy part, argued that I should just wait until morning. I could give in to sleep and approach the Core Skill Selection with a well rested mind. If it weren¡¯t for the events of my System Day, I might have listened to it. The incident with the wooden coins held me back. Why have a superstitious game like that in the first place? It had been nagging at me. The System Window clearly said ¡®Core Skill Selection¡¯ which, to me, implied some kind of choice. Choice and superstition didn¡¯t always mix well in my experience. In my younger¡­ er¡­ my first younger years, I¡¯d avoided a handful of second dates with women who tried to justify poor choices as a symptom of the position of the stars. I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if I¡¯d missed something, even though it was right there in plain Engl- Wait, why the fuck is my System in English? I let my mind spiral around the countless possible answers to countless possible questions as the timer in my System Window ticked ever downwards. So far, my experience with System literature was proving about as useful as grundle-flavored toothpaste. Just because I knew how things might play out in the broadest of all possible strokes didn¡¯t exactly amount to much when I had to live it. ***
Time Until Core Skill Selection 0:00:01:01
One minute left. One minute left. One minute left. My heart rate started to rise as that final minute digit turned into a zero. I could only hope I¡¯d get some kind of second wind before the seconds followed suit. I was exhausted so I tried shaking my limbs out. It was a risky move, the movement would ultimately tire me out even more but I didn¡¯t need to plan for a marathon. I just needed to get my blood pumping and hold on for a little while longer.
Time Until Core Skill Selection 0:00:00:30
There was less than half a minute left until I¡¯d finally get some answers. I risked a quick glance through the bars of my crib. I didn¡¯t see any sign of my parents who¡¯d already turned in for the night, so it seemed unlikely they knew the specifics of my timer beyond the day it was due to expire. A sleeping Vigil stirred briefly from his place next to my crib. I returned my focus to the System.
Time Until Core Skill Selection 0:00:00:10
Any second now.
Time Until Core Skill Selection 0:00:00:05
Almost there!
Time Until Core Skill Selection 0:00:00:01
Here we go!
Time Until Core Skill Selection 0:00:00:00
Prepare for Core Skill Selection
Chapter 6 Chapter 6 (Redux) ¡°I often wonder if I would have turned out differently if I did not have my Core Skill. I know the mere suggestion could ignite a dozen different philosophical debates, but please do try to restrain yourselves. You should know by now I get ponderous when I¡¯m drunk.¡± ~Unknown
Core Skill Selection Please choose a Core Skill. Friendly Reminder: Your Core Skill will be the foundation of your Advancement within The System. If you fail to make a choice then a Core Skill will be randomly assigned to you. 0:00:03:00
The System screen updated without fanfare or pageantry. There were no explanations. There were no insights. What was System Advancement? Who knows. What separates a Core Skill from a regular Skill? No idea. All I got was a poorly explained instruction and an oddly worded warning, the latter of which was both vindicating, terrifying and - frankly - perplexing. Had I given in to my desires for sleep, I would have awoken with a randomly assigned Skill and been forced to surrender what felt like the only real advantage I was going to get given my unique circumstances. Presumably, this was how it worked for every other 6-month old baby which made the inclusion of such a short timer confusing as all fuck. Why even bother including a timer if- No. Moron. Focus. Three minutes! Fuck! Steroid-guzzling panic bulldozed over my exhaustion, returning me to a semblance of clarity as I watched the first seconds tick down, forever lost. Fortunately, pondering the syntax of the System screen wasn¡¯t at all helpful to my new predicament. Hooray for stress-induced sarcasm. Timer! Pause! Please!? Fuck! It didn¡¯t work. Precious seconds, gone. I had plans, I really did. I would poke and prod at the System, taking my time to devise the perfect Core Skill choice. I thought I¡¯d have time, but the cautious approach was no longer a viable option. There wasn¡¯t even a list of options presented to me, which would have helped reduce the wave of choice paralysis I felt loom over me.
0:00:02:42
Keeping the System window open wouldn¡¯t ease my nerves. Even so, I dared not dismiss it. I needed to prioritize my time and work through as many options as I could. Deep breaths. You can do this. Deep breaths. You can do this, I repeated the mantra myself a few times in an effort to calm down. First, the long shot. More than anything else, I wanted to return home. Without a list of Skills to choose from, I could only assume I had to ask for one, so I did. I want a Skill that will take me back to Earth. I pictured the planet as I remembered it from satellite images. From so far away, it looked like a blue and green marble. No, not just to Earth - to her. I mentally zoomed in, rushing my mind¡¯s eye through the atmosphere and amongst the clouds. I moved so fast that the details blurred until everything came into sharp focus. I was back in my apartment. I was back to my old self. I was back with my fianc¨¦e, pulling her into a fierce hug and telling her a million times over how much I loved her. I¡¯d said it so much before, but especially now it never felt like I said it enough. That is where I am meant to be, I begged the System. That is what I want. Is that a Skill? For a long moment, there was no response. I watched the counter tick down another second. ¡­ Please. My bloodshots eyes snapped open, illuminated by the light of a new System screen that only I could see.
¡­ ¡­ ¡­ There are no records of the chosen Skill.
¡­ ¡­ ¡­ The chosen Skill is theoretically possible. Would you like to choose Unnamed Skill as your Core Skill? WARNING: Without prerequisite Skills, Unnamed Skill cannot be properly utilized.
I wanted to accept the Skill. I wanted so badly to accept the Skill. Despite the warning that should have immediately condemned it as an option, I almost said yes. I asked what the prerequisite Skills were. No response. I considered taking the Skill so that I might share its secrets with someone else. It was the desperate logic of a grieving man, but I still had to entertain the possibility. It was a waste of time I didn¡¯t have, but I had to let myself consider the Unnamed Skill as an option. Except¡­ There was no way of knowing if Skills could be taught or passed on, especially when they were functionally useless in the hands of the teacher. Even if I could, why would anyone believe my story and want to help me? There was no realistic scenario in which ranting about ¡®traveling to another world¡¯ would earn me anything but contempt or perhaps pity. That was assuming I could find anyone with the Skill prerequisites to begin with. Can I really risk everything on such a long shot? The answer was no. I reread the first System notification. The Core Skill I chose would be the foundation of my Advancement within the System. If I were to bet everything on an unusable Skill and lost, it would cripple any future attempts. I¡¯d be stuck forever. It was like a knife wound to the heart. I felt so close to a solution, and yet so infinitely far away.
0:00:02:16
I was also wasting time. I mentally declined the Unnamed Skill, causing its window to vanish. It was gone, but not forgotten. The Skill was possible. All I had to do was Advance until I uncovered its secrets, but that was a problem for later. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. A Skill to traverse time and space or both was theoretically possible. It was either a product of magic or science so advanced it might as well be magic. Is ¡®Magic¡¯ a Skill?
¡­ ¡­ ¡­ There are no records of the chosen Skill.
Well, shit, I thought, but I wasn¡¯t done yet. It might have been a language issue. Imagining Earth helped before, so I tried something similar. When I thought of magic, a traditional wizard came to mind. I imagined an old man with a bushy beard and conical hat. He was reading through magical tomes and reciting words of power to bend the world to his-
Would you like to choose Spellscript as your Core Skill? WARNING: Without prerequisite Skills, Spellscript cannot be properly utilized.
As much as I wanted to dwell on the possibilities of magic, I quickly dismissed the Skill and bookmarked it for later in life. Magic had prerequisites. I lacked the context - and more importantly, the time - necessary to figure out what they were. I also had no idea exactly what Spellscript was so it made for a poor frame of reference. Something physical then, I decided. I imagined myself fighting and drew on half-remembered memories of action movies to inject the scene with an outlandish display of martial prowess. I was punching, kicking and dishing out the occasional headbutt to a host of phantom opponents.
Would you like to choose Weapons [Unarmed] as your Core Skill?
I found it interesting that unarmed combat fell under the umbrella of a Weapons Skill, but Spellscript didn¡¯t have a similar connection to a broader ¡®Magic¡¯ Skill. I wasn¡¯t sure if that was at all significant, but I noted it all the same. Perhaps more importantly, it meant Skills could be specialized. I took an opportunity to quickly test the limits, running through a rapid gambit of superficially conjured and summarily dismissed offers for Core Skills. Imagining an endless variety of fighting styles and equipment granted Weapons [All], while fighting unarmed but exclusively with my fists granted Weapons [Punch]. I spent a handful of seconds on the exercise, reaching for increasingly absurd Skills, until a familiar screen stopped me in my tracks.
¡­ No records of chosen Skill.
¡­ Skill is theoretically possible. Would you like to choose Weapons [Punch, Right-Handed, Wet Weather] as your Core Skill?
From my experiments I was able to draw several hastily constructed conclusions. Evidently, the System believed that becoming well versed in literally all forms of weaponry would be more attainable than learning Spellscript or returning home. It was also able to conceive of a fucking name for certain Skills it didn¡¯t already have a record for, but the Unnamed Skill was beyond its capacity in that regard. It was not an encouraging revelation. I still didn¡¯t know if choosing a Skill would have magically imbued me with knowledge, or if there were any benefits in taking a more specifically worded Skill. I checked the timer.
0:00:01:20
I¡¯d gained some insights about The System and the herculean task before me, but still wasn¡¯t sure what Core Skill to select for myself. I had to refocus. What was my goal? My goal was the Unnamed Skill, something so beyond my grasp that the System believed I¡¯d have better odds of gaining universal weapon proficiency than comprehending it. Magic. Science. I was getting ahead of myself. The Skill was possible, and I had told myself that was enough, but I had to be realistic. I wasn¡¯t anything special. Being reincarnated didn¡¯t change that. Something special happened to me, but I was still the guy who barely passed his junior year of physics. I was the guy with a blackbelt in procrastination who¡¯d get hyper fixated on a hobby only to abandon it a few weeks later. Objectively, there was no realistic way that I was the guy who would unlock the secrets of time and space. I needed something to give me an edge. Time was running out, so in my panic I compared myself to fictional protagonists. Desperation had driven the more sensible parts of mind into submission, otherwise I might have reflected on the folly of seeking life advice from fantasy novels. We work with what we have, however, so I continued unabated. What did they have that I didn¡¯t? What made them heroes capable of overcoming insurmountable odds? The first thing to come to mind was luck, reality-defying, author-bestowed luck. Fuck it. I prodded at my System Screen and asked for luck.
Would you like to choose Luck as your Core Skill?
Being lucky didn¡¯t seem like it should be a Skill. However, I had no choice but to accept the System¡¯s word on the matter. It meant Skills could be even more esoteric than I initially anticipated. I considered taking Luck as my Core Skill. Visions of casinos and unlikely chance encounters briefly tickled the borders of my imagination, but I wasn¡¯t ready to commit to them. I could definitely see the appeal, but unless the Skill immediately infused me with reality defying good fortune it would be a long while before I could reliably depend upon it. The window remained open alongside the timer, now entering its final minute. If I couldn¡¯t decide on something less uncertain, I¡¯d - appropriately - take the gamble. What else is there? Some ideas held more merit than others, and I tried not to dwell on them if my immediate reaction was to dismiss them. I doubted I could find a Skill that conjured a legendary mentor or suddenly made me the prophesied ¡®chosen one¡¯. The power of friendship? That might work. Even if I couldn¡¯t learn the Skill myself, perhaps I could convince a person, or persons to do so on my behalf. I¡¯d just need to find someone capable of doing so and convince them to devote their lives to me for little-to-no compensation. Simply entertaining the thought felt slimy, but it was enough for The System.
Would you like to choose Manipulation [Social] as your Core Skill?
Yeah. No. I dismissed the offer. I wanted to get home, but not like that. It was a terrifying Skill. Were there people who could sway the minds of humans like Tina commanded her dogs? I¡¯d have to look into ways to protect myself from such a- FUCK! Later! Core Skill! Choose! Now! I was almost out of time. The irritation I felt at my wandering mind brought a final Skill to its attention. It was the thing that made heroes rise above the masses. It was what separated the exceptional from the mundane. It even went beyond the realms of fiction. Some of the greatest men and women of history achieved success after countless failures, setbacks, and hardship. It was their ability to keep trying, no matter the difficulty or delay, that set them apart. It was something I knew I lacked in my first life. It was something I craved for my second.
Would you like to choose Perseverance as your Core Skill?
There it was. Perseverance. Getting home was going to be arduous at best. My track record suggested I didn¡¯t have what it took to endure the challenges ahead. I needed perseverance if I was going to do this. I needed perseverance if I was ever going to hold my fianc¨¦e again. All I had to do was say yes¡­ so I did. Chapter 7 ¡°System philosophy is a fascinating thing, really. The recounts we have suggest that most cultural groups will independently fall into one of two general ways of thinking. There are those who believe we are shaped by our Core Skills and those who believe our Core Skills are a representation of who we were always destined to be.¡± ~Unknown
You have chosen Perseverance as your Core Skill. To continue your advancement within The System please achieve a recognized proficiency of Level 10 in your Core Skill.
Perseverance Level 1/10 Current proficiency points: 0/100
Core Skills receive an additional Skill Augmentation upon advancement.
I released the breath I hadn¡¯t realized I was holding. The doughy balls that were my weakly clenched fists relaxed. I¡¯d done it. I had a Core Skill. Unsurprisingly, the System messages were vague and raised just as many questions as they answered. Any chance there¡¯s additional information available here? How do I get proficiency points? What is a Skill Augmentation? What else happens when I advance? Does anything else happen? Is that how I get more Skills? There was no response. Yeah, that checks out. No thunderous boom or sudden feeling of power accompanied the System messages. Simply possessing a Core Skill didn¡¯t appear to change much about my ambient existence. As the tension left my body it was replaced by a heavy drowsiness. I was at my limit. My eyelids began to droop, and a yawn rose from deep in my chest. It gave me an idea. I don¡¯t know how the stray thought broke through the rapidly descending mind fog, but it had. Blearily, I resummoned my new System screen.
Perseverance Level 1/10 Current proficiency points: 0/100
I will not sleep until I get a proficiency point. It was a promise to myself, a way to quantify my ridiculous act of petty self-defiance. Would endeavoring to stay awake beyond the limits of exhaustion count as an act of perseverance? I wanted to find out. I figured chances were equally good it was an act of stupidity, that I would doze off and wake up feeling foolish, but I was too tired to care. If I had the coordination to do so, I would have slapped my cheeks to psyche myself up. Instead, I just kind of flailed.
Perseverance Level 1/10 Current proficiency points: 0/100
I watched the screen intently while trying desperately not to blink lest my eyes remained closed. Barely a minute had passed before I felt my resolve start to slip. I told myself I¡¯d already pushed too far. It would be okay to rest and try again tomorrow. The excuses were familiar ones from another life I¡¯d told myself dozens of times before. They were insidious in their logic, especially at that moment, and I longed to surrender to their siren¡¯s song. That¡¯s when it happened. It was a small change. So small that had I not been dancing on the doorstep of delirium it would have evaded notice. I felt it though. A small rush of something. For the barest of moments, I felt like I could endure all night if I had to, like I could simply shove the sleepiness into a box and banish it from thought.
Perseverance Level 1/10 Current proficiency points: 6/100
It worked! I wonder how long I- My vision went dark, and I left the waking world behind. ***Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. A blast of uncomfortably warm air ripped me from my dreamless slumber. It carried a vaguely meaty smell upon its wings and snaked deep into my nostrils. I almost gagged. My eyes snapped open and I was greeted by the sight of a panting maw and lolling tongue. Tendrils of ice gripped my spine as I froze in fright. The glint of metallic teeth heralded my imminent demise and- It¡¯s Vigil! Fuck me, that was scary for a second there. Evidently, he stuck his head into the crib to check on me. My breath came in frightened gasps as my heart pounded like the beating of a hummingbird¡¯s wings. Even though my barely awake brain had comprehended that I wasn¡¯t actually in danger, it would take a minute for my body to catch up. A glob of drool started to gather at the side of Vigil¡¯s lip and threatened to droop onto my face. My genius response was to baby babble and try to shimmy out of the line of impending fire. It was no good. I was moments away from a slobbery shower. ¡°Vigil, did you wake Will up?¡± The dog in question pulled his head from the crib to observe Tina as she poked her head into the room. Mom to the rescue! The sound of Vigil¡¯s panting was replaced by the steady thump of his tail hitting the wall as it wagged. Tina¡¯s question was playful in tone and when I saw her through the gaps of my crib I could see her smiling at the scene. Which is fair enough. I somehow avoided a crying fit so as far as she is aware I wasn¡¯t overly spooked by that whole ordeal. ¡°Good morning, my Will,¡± she cooed when she caught my gaze. I smiled. A mother¡¯s love is a special thing. Part of me felt guilty that I wanted to find a way back to my original home, but I had unfinished business there. Hopefully she¡¯d understand when the time came. If the time comes, the cynical part of my mind chimed in. That was a problem for the future. The Unnamed Skill was a goal that felt impossibly far out of reach. Realistically, I¡¯d be an adult in my new life before I started making any real progress towards it. Lamenting that truth would just be a waste of time I didn¡¯t have. I had to worry about making it to adulthood first. One step at a time. Baby steps. Hah. I giggled at the pun as Tina crossed the room and pulled me up into her arms. Instead of embracing me against her shoulder like usual, she held me at arm¡¯s length and gave me a thorough onceover. Seemingly satisfied that I was fine, she gave me a gentle kiss on the top of my head and carried me away while muttering what sounded like reassurances. That was weird¡­ Status.
Perseverance Level 1/10 Current proficiency points: 6/100
There it was, the Skill I had bet my success on. The events from the night before came back to me in groggy chunks. Unless it was far later in the day than I realized, I hadn¡¯t gotten a full night of sleep. Despite that, I felt¡­ fine, really. There was no throbbing headache or general aches. The baby body was holding up. My confusion was that Tina seemed far too subdued compared to yesterday. I¡¯d have thought that the day a baby actually had their Core Skill would be even more celebrated than the day before. Had I misread the situation? *** We were leaving the house! We weren¡¯t just going outside, we were leaving-leaving. I squirmed in Tina¡¯s grip to make sure I got a good look at our destination. It was an unsuccessful attempt, and not my first one. After I¡¯d been fed another divinely prepared vegetable mush Tina swaddled me in soft folds of fabric before we left the house. It was comfortable but made squirming a challenging prospect and my lacking fine motor control meant I wasn¡¯t able to free myself from the wooly cocoon. My father walked alongside us, his heavy footfalls crunching any natural debris that fell beneath them. When I craned my neck to see him, there was an unfamiliar slump to his shoulders. He seemed¡­ tense. Tina made an effort to distract me by pointing out the occasional flower or interesting cloud. Something was up, I just couldn¡¯t tell what. Instead I tried to enjoy the outing. Vigil shadowed us like usual. He periodically sniffed at the ground and wandered off to stick his head into a nearby bush. All the while his tail would wag. Classic dog stuff. His presence made me confident we¡¯d travel without being bothered by stray wildlife. Academically, I knew that I couldn¡¯t be certain of that, but sometimes it¡¯s okay not to be. If traveling with a huge, metallic dog couldn¡¯t make me feel at ease then nothing would. Idly, I wondered about the rest of the dogs back at the kennel. If I hadn¡¯t seen Tina¡¯s unnatural command of them I¡¯d have been worried they¡¯d get into mischief without supervision. As it was, I couldn¡¯t imagine them having any issues. We began cresting the small rise at the edge of the property. Far behind us, the forest loomed as it usually did, but my attention lay forwards. Tina finally realized that I wouldn¡¯t squirm while I could see ahead of us and adjusted how she held me to capitulate. I had been craving new scenery more than I realized. I wanted to see another side of my new world, even if it was just another side of the hill near my house. We reached the top. I felt my breath catch in my throat. It was beautiful. Farmland, rich and sprawling. Organized rows of crops grew strong and healthy. Something about that didn¡¯t seem right, but I couldn¡¯t put my finger on it. From our perch on that small hill we could see respectably far into the distance. The land was uncannily flat, and the farmlands extended as far as I could see. We walked for close to an hour, following a dirt path dented by wheel ruts. Occasionally, we passed a fenced off paddock filled with sheep casually milling about. More of a pasture instead of an extension of the farms. I tried to spot any irregularities with the sheep like I had with Tina¡¯s dogs, but no matter how I strained my eyes they just looked like regular sheep to me. I guess some of the horns on the rams look kinda sinister. Maybe. Sheep weren¡¯t the only things in the pastures though. Without fail, every time we passed by a flock, a large dog would rise from the grass and wander over to greet us. Or rather, greet Tina. She called out to each of them by name and was free with her praise. It was vindicating to see that my guess had been accurate. She was training them to be livestock guardians. They never stayed long and were quick to return to their flocks with their tails wagging. She¡¯d taught them well. I spotted people, other people, working in the fields. They shared many of the same general features as my parents and - presumably - myself. A few turned to wave but most were too engrossed by their labor to notice and neither of my parents called out to disturb them. I saw one man dragging a multi-pronged plow through a section of empty field. It looked like the type of tool that needed a pair of horses to move but he seemed unbothered by the load and worked with a steady intensity. I looked between my father and the man, taking note of the similarities in their feats of strength. I let my attention flutter from one sight to the other until a group of buildings came into view. I¡¯d seen others dotting the fields, but they resembled homes or agricultural structures. That new cluster of a dozen or so buildings looked organized. Central. My father hadn¡¯t spoken since we left the house, but he spoke then. Beneath the power inherent to his rumbling bass, I caught the concern in his voice. ¡°Will, this is Elbura.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure if Elbura was the name of the village or the word for village. I¡¯d figure it out eventually. Chapter 8 ¡°I once met a young woman during my travels across the Red Sands. Rather, she was introduced to me after I explained the nature of my research to a helpful local. Her Core Skill was practically impossible for her to advance, see. It was a ¡®dud¡¯ Core Skill, as some might crassly put it. She was given basic chores to feel useful, but primarily got by on the good will of her community. Her Skill? Oh, yes, of course. She had a variation of the Animal Husbandry Skill. Animal Husbandry [Walrus]. Poor girl had no idea what a walrus was. At the time, neither did I. I made it a point to look into the matter to sate my own curiosity. I eventually saw a specimen up close years later. Hear me, facilitating walrus husbandry seems like a truly grim prospect indeed.¡± ~Unknown As was the case with our house, the architecture of Elbura reminded me of something out of medieval Europe. Thatched roofs topped every wooden building and made the village look like one big fire hazard. The same technological inconsistencies I noticed at our home were present in the village as well. The buildings had clear glass windows and their overall construction quality was a step above some of the images I¡¯d seen of similar buildings during the occasional late night, online rabbit hole. It meant that our standard of living was consistent with the local average. The possibility had crossed my mind that my parents were just really into maintaining a rustic aesthetic in their home and I was glad to settle the matter. I cautiously sniffed as we made our way to a large building at the center of the cluster, bracing myself to experience the rank miasma of a community without a sewerage system. I didn¡¯t necessarily want to smell it, but I was stricken by the same morbid curiosity that drives a person to confirm a fart¡¯s presence by wafting it in. I was almost disappointed when the air remained comparably fresh and untainted. Might be that there¡¯s not enough people here. The streets were deserted. Calling them streets was generous, though, as it was just more compacted dirt. When I imagined a village, there was normally more hustling or bustling or whatever it was that made a village feel alive. The relative stillness made sense as I thought about it, though. It was the middle of the day and people were working the fields. Who could possibly have the free time to loiter around the village? I only wished I knew what we were doing there, not that I could do anything about it either way. There was a lone exception to my observation. Leaning against the building we were approaching was a man with a thick, wooden club hanging from his belt. There was a roundness to his features and he had the nose of a middling brawler. I spotted more than one dark stain on his otherwise sun-bleached tunic. He stood up straighter as we got closer and moved to meet us before we got to the door. I didn¡¯t miss the barely concealed flash of irritation on his expression. Probably doesn¡¯t have to deal with people most days. ¡°Good morning, Rual,¡± my father said plainly. My mother echoed the sentiment with the same curt politeness. Rual stood almost a head shorter than my father but didn¡¯t crane his neck to meet the larger man¡¯s gaze. Instead, he made a point of turning his head and smiled at my mother. ¡°Good morning, Tina. It is good to see you. Is this your little one?¡± Oh fuck this guy. There was some history there that I couldn¡¯t even pretend to be able to untangle without more context. That didn¡¯t spare him from the scathing first impression I knew I¡¯d form of someone who snubbed my father. I felt Tina¡¯s shoulders tense. ¡°Yes. This is Will. He just had his¡­ so we are here to ¡­¡± Yeah, those were some context-specific words I had no hope of accurately deciphering on my first listen. Tina¡¯s tone brokered no delay, however, and to her side I heard a deep growl rumble from Vigil¡¯s chest. Rual¡¯s smile dropped and his eyes flickered towards the massive dog. After a brief pause he sighed as if we weren¡¯t worth the trouble. ¡°Go on in, then.¡± We passed by him without further incident, but I did hear Rual mutter something under his breath. Curious, I looked at my father. His expression hadn¡¯t changed. Tina moved me to her other arm so that she could lay a comforting hand against him. Unsurprisingly, she noticed something I didn¡¯t. They shared a half smile and we stepped into the building. My father had to bend slightly to get through the doorway. It wasn¡¯t a problem he had at our house, so it was probably constructed with his imposing height in mind. Vigil veered off instead of following us. He sat to wait outside, right by where Rual was initially standing. I mentally snickered. Good boy. ***This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. The building was a large communal space. Rows of simple wooden benches faced a slightly raised platform but it was otherwise sparsely furnished. Some type of gathering or meeting spot, I guess. Not including the entrance, there were four other doors, two on either side of the room. My parents wasted no time and moved to the furthermost door on our left where my father raised his hand to knock but paused before he made contact. ¡°It will all be okay, my love,¡± Tina said reassuringly. My father sighed deeply before he replied. ¡°And yet I can not help but worry for him.¡± Two knocks resonated in the empty hall as my father rapped twice on the wooden door. Someone on the other side must have called out for us to enter, because we stepped inside almost immediately. I wasn¡¯t paying attention at that point. The brief exchange my parents shared set off alarm bells in my head. Something must be up. Am I in danger here? No. Probably not. Surely not. Fuck, I hope not. I had no choice but to trust my parents were looking out for me. It wasn¡¯t like I was in any condition to escape if they weren¡¯t. What was I going to do? Crawl away? I literally lacked the coordination to do so, not that I hadn¡¯t been trying. Was there some risk to unlocking a Core Skill I hadn¡¯t considered? I didn¡¯t have time to think it over. The side room was an office of sorts. There was a sparsely filled shelf against the right hand wall and a large desk occupied the center of the room. Hunched behind it sat a man with salt and pepper hair writing something into a thick, leather bound ledger with careful strokes of a feather quill. With his free hand, he gestured for us to wait without taking his eyes off the page. It was only when the quill ran out of ink that he set it to one side and glanced up at us, revealing his neatly trimmed goatee and the tiredness around his eyes. ¡°Tina, wonderful to see you! I had almost forgotten I was expecting you. Was it young-¡± he paused for a thoughtful moment and lay a hand on the ledger as if to steady himself. ¡°Will! Was it young Will¡¯s ¡­ already?¡± His tone was friendly enough, but it still irked me. Was this guy seriously also going to ignore my- ¡°Oh, nice to see you too, Tulos,¡± he added as an aside before returning his attention to Tina and me. All thoughts of annoyance were immediately replaced by overdue catharsis. A NAME! FUCKING FINALLY! Tulos. Cool name, dad. ¡°Yes, we celebrated yesterday. Good to see you too, Hwan.¡± Tina took responsibility for the conversation on our part while Tulos simply gave a shallow nod in acknowledgement of the greeting. Tulos was by no means boisterous, especially when compared to Tina. I wouldn¡¯t have described him as timid though, which is what made his bearing since we got to the village all the more confusing. I once again thrashed at the metaphorical chains of my ignorance. Something was up and I wanted to know what. From what I could gather through the chunks of missing vocabulary, what followed was a brief conversation between Tina and Hwan that mostly consisted of questions about my health and any notable changes over the last day. There was no alarm in their tones or sudden shifts in their demeanor, so I gathered that my experience must have been normal. Or, at least, it appeared that way to an outside observer. If someone¡¯s kid gets a skill like Weapons [Unarmed] would they wake up to see their baby endeavoring to assume a crane pose or something? The silliness of the mental image made me laugh and a soft smile graced Hwan¡¯s otherwise quite pointed expression. Baby giggles were a powerful thing. The laugh was also a way to work through some of my nervous energy. Thus far, nothing had happened that justified Tulos¡¯ apparent concern and it was putting me increasingly on edge. ¡°Well, he certainly seems ¡­ enough. Now, shall we get him ¡­?¡± Hwan asked Tina. He¡¯d been polite enough to occasionally look at Tulos to give the appearance of including the man in their conversation. At that moment, though, all of his attention was on Tina. There was a beat of silence and I felt Tina hug me close before she answered. ¡°Yes, Hwan. No sense in ¡­ any longer than we need to.¡± Tina¡¯s response had lost her usual upbeat tone. Hwan nodded and fished a key from under his collar. It was dangling from the thin cord he wore around his neck which had, until then, escaped my notice. Tina began untangling one of my arms from the swaddle as we moved to stand opposite him. Wide-eyed, I watched as Hwan retrieved a small, ornamental chest from its place on the nearby shelf. Its design was modest except for the presence of an intricate, metal keyhole. Without hesitation or fanfare, Hwan inserted the key and I heard the lid pop open with a faint click. Inside was a blue orb that looked like it was cut from crystal and polished smooth until it resembled glass. I could see something engraved along its equator but wasn¡¯t able to make out the details. Hwan carefully removed the orb and promptly placed it into a small divot carved into his desk that prevented it from rolling onto the floor. Clever. Also, is that a fuck mothering magical item? Cuz¡¯ it looks like a fuck mothering magical item! Half-formed speculations buzzed through my head, bolstered by my memories of the night before. Was Hwan''s treasure somehow connected to Spellscript? There was no deeper ceremony and I didn¡¯t have the strength to resist what happened next. Tina guided my arm and pushed my palm onto the orb. Nothing happened, but I felt a tension in the air. It was like every adult in the room was holding a single, collective breath. A light began to glow within the center of the orb. Oh shit, is this doing what I think it¡¯s going to- The light pulsed and rose out of the orb before taking the form of a familiar blue screen. It didn¡¯t look like mine, though, at least not as I knew it. It was facing Hwan, but thanks to its faint transparency I saw the letters on the other side. They were not from an alphabet I recognized. I could only hope that whatever Hwan was reading wasn¡¯t somehow damning. ¡°Well? What does it say?¡± Tina asked and I heard her voice catch on the last word. Hwan looked at the screen and then back to me a few times, an unreadable expression on his face. I heard the wood of the desk groan. Tulos was leaning forward on it, as if trying to see over the top of the System screen to read it properly. That¡¯s when Hwan said a word. I hadn¡¯t heard the word before - not in my new language - but I knew immediately what it meant. It was a word that resonated with something deep inside me. ¡°Perseverance.¡± Interlude: Tina and Tulos ¡°Look, I am not saying I don¡¯t appreciate your input but clearly you have no idea what you are talking about. I am aware that seeking research feedback is important. I am aware that there is value in getting someone else¡¯s perspective on an issue. I just don¡¯t want it to be yours.¡± ~Unknown Tulos waited outside while his wife put their son down for a nap. The events of the day had taken a lot out of the boy, and rightfully so. He figured so many new experiences had to be exhausting for a baby. ¡°Even with a Skill like Perseverance¡­¡± Tulos was still processing the revelation. He hadn¡¯t been convinced of the outlandish truth until Hwan let him read the Core Analysis personally. Even then it didn¡¯t seem real. Tulos wandered over to his woodshed and selected one of the larger logs he¡¯d felled the day before. With minimal effort, he hoisted it onto his shoulder and carried it to an open space near the house. It was a feat not typically possible for someone with his level of the Strength (Body) Skill. His specialized Skill Augmentation choices did a lot of heavy lifting to bridge the gap, figuratively speaking. The log shifted as Tulos settled his bulk onto it. Even though it was the largest log in his shed, it still wasn¡¯t entirely adequate to comfortably seat him. His knees crested higher than his waist sat. It would be good for Tina, though, so he was content to endure the minor discomfort. They needed to talk about their son¡¯s future and Tulos reasoned it¡¯d be best to have that conversation while sitting down. It wasn¡¯t long until Tina walked out of the house and spotted him waiting for her. She smiled, but Tulos wasn¡¯t fooled. In the same way that she could spot his discomfort through a stoic expression so too could he see the cracks in her cheer. It had been a topic of idle discussion for them, once. They concluded that they knew each other, truly knew each other, far too well. They also concluded that they wouldn¡¯t want it any other way. Tina planted herself right next to Tulos and leaned her head against his shoulder. They just sat like that, for a time, taking comfort from the other¡¯s presence. Vigil had returned to the kennel to check up on the other dogs which gave them some time alone while their son rested. Before Vigil started sleeping next to Will¡¯s crib, it was hard to separate Tina from that dog. Privacy was a rare commodity. Tulos couldn¡¯t blame Tina for it, though. Or Vigil, really. The bond between a Tamer and their creature was a thing of magic, and that was for people without Taming as their Core Skill, let alone a specialized variant. Tulos turned his head slightly so that he could better see his wife. There really was no one as amazing as she was, in every sense of the word. At least, not in his eyes. ¡°You are doing that thing again,¡± Tina said flatly. ¡°What thing?¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°That thing where you look at me like I am the only person in the world.¡± She sounded annoyed, but Tulos knew it was an act. ¡°How can you always tell?¡± ¡°I just can.¡± She sighed contently but it morphed into a groan part way through and she straightened up her posture. ¡°What are we going to do about Will?¡± There it was, the big question. Ever since the day his son was born- no, ever since he discovered his wife was pregnant he¡¯d been worried about the day they¡¯d take him to Hwan for analysis. It had been a constant source of anxiety and he¡¯d mangled more than one tree in an effort to work through some of the stress. ¡°Nothing needs to change straight away. Hwan promised he would not inform The Crown and I am inclined to trust him.¡± Tulos wrapped an arm around his wife for a reassuring side-hug. ¡°He is only under oath to report children with illegal Core Skills.¡± It was every parent¡¯s nightmare to discover their child had an illegal Core Skill, but avoiding the analysis was a fool¡¯s errand. The Crown made the punishment for doing so severe enough to dissuade taking the risk. There were stories of those who did, of course, but they never had a happy ending. ¡°We¡¯ll need to tell him to keep it a secret,¡± Tina added, and Tulos saw she¡¯d started anxiously tapping one of her heels without realizing it. ¡°If he tells a friend who tells their parents they might-¡± ¡°My love, you know I have my own opinions about our neighbors but do you really think they¡¯d-¡± ¡°Our son has a Universal Core! Yes, Tulos, I really do think they would.¡± She snapped and gesticulated in the vague direction of the village. ¡°He could be shaped to fill any role if The Crown got to him young enough.¡± Her words came faster and faster, like a floodgate had ruptured. ¡°That type of information can be worth life changing amounts of coin. Oh, and it is not just ANY Universal Core Skill, it is Perseverance.¡± The Skill¡¯s name hung between the two concerned parents. When Tina spoke again, her voice was softer. Defeated. Bitter, almost. ¡°I would have thought you, if anyone, would be able to understand the baggage that a Core Skill can-¡± Tulos flinched as if he¡¯d been struck. Regret immediately flashed through Tina¡¯s eyes, snapping her out of the tirade. It was a low blow, and she knew it. ¡°My love, I am so, so, sor-¡± ¡°It is okay, my love,¡± Tulos cut her off. ¡°You do not need to apologize. We are both still coming to terms with the situation.¡± He took a deep breath before continuing. ¡°You are right though. We should not take the risk.¡± Tina entwined her hand with his. It was tiny by comparison. ¡°I am sorry though,¡± she whispered. ¡°Just because you¡¯re the incredible man I married - who is sometimes far too forgiving - does not get me off the hook.¡± Tulos felt her grab a handful of his shirt with her free hand. ¡°What I said was uncalled for.¡± Tulos leaned down to give her a gentle kiss on the top of her head. ¡°In that case, I will accept your apology.¡± It was impossible for him not to. Tina sprung to her feet and gave her husband a quick peck on the cheek. Her smile was genuine as it was breathtaking, but it didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. It was the ultimate distraction and Tulos could tell she was getting ready to disengage from the conversation. ¡°I¡¯ll go make us something to eat,¡± she chirped and made her way to their garden to browse for ingredients before he could interject. Tulos let her go. They weren¡¯t done with their discussion, but they could spread it out over the coming days. If he had to guess, his wife had also realized the one flaw in their plan, the sword that would be looming over their heads for years to come, and didn¡¯t wish to voice it in an effort to pretend it didn¡¯t exist. ¡°I think I¡¯ll follow her lead and keep myself busy,¡± he muttered to himself. He dragged the log over to his woodcutting stump and hefted his axe. It felt heavier than usual. Chapter 9 ¡°There are records of children reaching their first Advancement before the age of five. Often this is when their Core Skills align with infantile or childlike behavior. I once interviewed a man with Movement [Crawling] as their Core Skill. The friendly race he had with one of my research assistants was, frankly, bizarre to behold. His reliance on the Skill stunted his development as a child since walking was an inferior means of locomotion when compared to the Core Skill¡­ Wait, where was I going with this?¡± ~Unknown Come on. Just like we¡¯ve practiced. Nice and- fuck! Arms and legs don¡¯t respond well to positive reinforcement. They don¡¯t respond well to bad reinforcement, either. Or any reinforcement, really, on account of them being arms and legs. The mounting frustration at my inability to move my limbs in sync with one another was getting to me. One arm would almost do what I wanted it to and the other would kind of do its own thing. Maddening. Seemingly ignorant to my efforts, Vigil¡¯s chest rose and fell with each breath he took. I wasn¡¯t expecting sympathy from the dog, but it would have been nice. It was the day after our trip into town and we¡¯d returned to our normal routine. I found it hard to accept that, after everything, I was back to watching Tina steadily work through her usual list of daily kennel chores. A guy straight up used a magical orb to read my Core Skill yesterday. Why is this not a bigger deal? I grumbled mentally at the injustice of it all. Back in the office it had felt like a big deal. Everyone¡¯s reaction to my Core Skill was more visceral than I ever would have anticipated. Tulos¡¯ reaction was especially intense. He practically shoved Hwan aside to get a personal view of the projected display emanating from the orb. In hindsight, it made me relieved that I hadn''t chosen the Unnamed Skill¡­ I could only imagine how that would have gone down. What proceeded was a rapid exchange of questions, table thumping, and worried glances. Their conversation moved too fast and contained too many new words for me to accurately parse. My parents didn¡¯t seem thrilled, though. I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling I¡¯d somehow fucked up. On the surface, they¡¯d returned to normal by the time we got back to the house. Still, something felt off and I had to assume it was linked to Perseverance. I spared a glance at Tina who was busy brushing Trunkle¡¯s fur. It was normal for her to occasionally check up on me but it seemed like she was doing it more than normal that day. I sighed and pulled up my System screen.
Perseverance Level 1/10 Current proficiency points: 13/100
Four more points! Plus the three from yesterday makes for good ol¡¯ thirteen. I was exhausted by the time we returned home from the village yesterday. My lack of sleep the previous night and the excitement of the day had caught up to me. Before settling in for a nap I checked my Perseverance Skill screen and saw that it had gained an additional three proficiency points over the course of the day. I wasn¡¯t sure what I did to earn them, unless my stubborn squirming efforts were enough to be recognized by the Level 1 skill. What I did know was that seeing my quantified progress was exciting. Immediate validation of effort was one heck of a motivator. In my first life, I¡¯d made an annual promise that I was going to start hitting the gym and subsist on chicken and broccoli. After a couple of weeks I¡¯d barely notice any difference in my physique despite all the work I put in, then some new obsession would catch my eye and the cycle would continue. I was great at starting projects, not so much at finishing them. People critiqued our growing reliance on instant gratification, but you can¡¯t argue with results. Perseverance seemed to be recognized when I attempted something barriered by difficulty and made a conscious effort despite that barrier. I¡¯d yet to feel that same surge of something like I had on the night I received the Skill. Surely there was more to having a Skill that I was missing, but it was a start. So, why the arm thing? I was sick of being immobile. Learning to crawl would give me an opportunity to start testing the current limits of Perseverance and a way to finally, finally, regain some of my agency. Vigil shifted slightly and the rumble of a brewing bark traveled through his chest before he unleashed it upon the world. It was deep and resonant, just a single, attention-grabbing sound that put every other dog on high alert. Bones were dropped, ears were quirked and all was still. All was still, right up until the other dogs bayed in alarm. Tina paused her grooming of Trunkle - who wisely didn¡¯t contribute to the cacophony - and frowned at the display before emitting a sharp whistle. It was the kind of piercing whistle that you normally saw people produce by sticking two fingers in their mouth. I¡¯d never been able to figure out the trick to it. Tina could do it just by curling her tongue.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Silence. That is still so freaking cool. ¡°Vigil, you should know better than to excite the pups like that,¡± Tina scolded as she began panning her gaze around the perimeter of the kennel to see what merited the alarm. Vigil huffed and settled back down. I could have sworn it was like he actually understood what she was saying sometimes. ¡°Tina! Hey!¡± A woman¡¯s voice, muted by distance, reached my ears from somewhere behind me. I couldn¡¯t see who was calling out, but I could see Tina as she clocked the source of the cheerful greeting. Her face flashed through a roulette of emotions before settling on pleasantly surprised. ¡°Zetta! Good afternoon!¡± I felt the tension leave my body. Whoever Zetta was, Tina knew them and she was just a visitor. The thought made me tilt my head in idle consideration as something occurred to me. So far as I could tell, Zetta was going to be our first visitor since¡­ ever. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why more well-wishers hadn¡¯t come to see Tina. She had, relatively speaking, just had a baby. I knew that taking a day off was probably an infrequent luxury in my new community, but still. Unless of course they came during that first month or so¡­ It was a possibility. Remembering anything concrete from that time was still a shaky prospect at best. An extra indistinct blob peering into my crib here and there would have escaped notice. I tried not to prod at that sleeping bear of memories, knowing full well it was probably best I didn¡¯t remember much about that time. I repressed that stuff for a reason. Tina scooped me up and left the kennel to meet Zetta halfway. As we approached I noticed Zetta adorned her wrists with wooden bangles and wore a long, many-pocketed skirt. Tina didn¡¯t wear jewelry, but she did have a small tattoo on her left collarbone. I caught a glimpse of it back before I was eating solids. I couldn¡¯t help but compare the two women, enjoying the novelty of the meeting. Frankly, they looked remarkably similar¡­ Fuck, I am bad at this. They¡¯re both.. I dunno, let¡¯s say 25¡­ish. Zetta has shorter hair, I guess. Oh, Tina has green eyes to Zetta¡¯s brown. Zetta¡¯s face is rounder, maybe? A little? Suffice to say, both women were beautiful in their own ways and I decided that accurately describing someone with words was tricky. Well, except for one person. I let the image of my fianc¨¦e come to mind, as beautiful as ever, she- Wait¡­ that doesn¡¯t seem right. Something about my memory of her seemed¡­ off. Less distinct. That¡¯s when it struck me. One of my biggest fears was coming to pass. I was forgetting what she looked like. Not the broad strokes, of course. Even though I¡¯d had grandparents pass away years before I could still bring to mind their general image. Details faded though, and without the occasional photo reminder, maybe even the broad strokes would start to smudge. ¡°Oh my goodness, Tina! Look at your little Will! He has gotten so big!¡± Zetta began showering me with praise, but I barely paid it any attention. Tina had let the other woman hold and dote over me but it wasn¡¯t long until she passed me back. My lack of reaction must have given her the wrong idea about my temperament. It was hard to care at that moment. ¡°So, what Core Skill did Will end up with?¡± Zetta¡¯s tone bordered on conspiratory but didn¡¯t sound sinister to me. Wait. Core Skill! Perseverance! Maybe that can help me. I thought hard about trying to remember. I wanted to remember the shape of her nostrils, the specific shade of colour in her eyes, all of the little details that made her unique and my favorite person in the whole world. I practically begged the Skill to help, wishing for something extraordinary. There was no response. The memory remained as it had; there, but not quite right. If Perseverance could help, it was beyond its scope as a Level 1 Skill. Maybe if I practiced, I¡¯d- ¡°Will¡¯s Core Skill is ¡­¡± Tina had said more in the lead up to the revelation, but I hadn¡¯t been paying attention. Honestly, I expected her to flat out refuse to answer. I¡¯d have thought a Core Skill would be something private. Instead, she said the name of a Skill. I¡¯d heard Hwan intone the name of my Skill a certain way when he said it, and I recognized that same shift when Tina spoke. Only¡­ she didn¡¯t say Perseverance. It was probably the only thing that could have pulled me out of my spiral at the time. I shot a quick glance at Zetta who nodded thoughtfully at the answer before returning to her gab with Tina. I felt an uncomfortable pit settle in my stomach. What did she say? ¡­ And why did she lie? *** Tulos joined us shortly after and, to my welcome surprise, Zetta wasn¡¯t dismissive of him. I was cradled in the crook of his elbow while Tina rushed to finish the last of her chores. The two of them made polite small talk and it wasn¡¯t uncomfortable to my ears. Their body language was telling, especially Tulos¡¯. I¡¯d seen him on edge the day before. Compared to then, he was as casual as a cucumber. She¡¯s definitely a family friend, I concluded. The topic of Skills didn¡¯t come up again and when Tina was finished in the kennel the four of us retreated to the house where the adults continued their conversation. Given how close they all seemed to be, it made Tina¡¯s deception all the more confusing and I couldn¡¯t stop mulling it over. Once again, I found myself annoyed at the limitations of being a baby. Fuck it. Six months. Six months. It would double my age. It would be an extended rehash of my experiences to date except with fewer naps. It was also the upper end of what I believed I could handle, the extent of my patience and the longest I might be able to continue living in ignorance. It was a commitment. By the end of the next six months I would be walking, talking and one step closer to figuring out how to preserve my memories and getting back home. It would be boring. It would be a slog. It was also a necessary first step. Time to see if Perseverance is actually worth anything. Chapter 10 ¡°It will probably come as no surprise that one of the most common asynchronous Skills people strive to obtain is any variation of the Sex Skill. It is also one of the Skills most commonly reported as being responsible for stalling a person¡¯s Advancement. Even still, more than half of the people we asked said they didn¡¯t regret the decision. Good for them, I suppose.¡± ~Unknown ¡°Zaaaa. Zaaaa. Maaamaaa!¡± The author of those ground-breaking lyrics was one of the meandering children I¡¯d been sentenced to socialize with while most of the village adults indulged in celebration. She spoke with the bewildered confidence borne of youthful ignorance. It was adorable. It was the first few times, at least. It¡¯s starting to get annoying. A pair of adults and the occasional bored teenager would be tasked with supervising the three of us before being released back to the festivities. The snippets of coherent conversation I¡¯d overheard since we arrived at the village center earlier that afternoon suggested it was some type of yearly festival to celebrate the harvest. We were in the depths of Autumn and my layers of clothing helped keep me warm even as the temperature began to drop with the setting Sun. The nearby heat of the fireplace was a welcome addition to my temporary prison. We were in one of the other side rooms of the building that housed Hwan¡¯s office. Blankets had been spread on the floor along with a spattering of toys, including stuffed animals and wooden dolls. Earlier in the day Jusep amused himself by clapping two of the wooden toys together. It was¡­ a lot. Judging by his size, Jusep looked at least a couple of years older than me and was walking with an ambling surety I found myself envious of. Bella, our resident vocalist, was barely my senior and still hadn¡¯t quite figured out walking. Bella maintained a general babyish look about her, but Jusep was starting to look like a little, chubby person - complete with a seemingly full set of teeth. I still had a few teeth that needed to come in and I can confirm that teething was a miserable experience. Continuing my rudimentary training routine while parts of my skeleton tried to violently erupt from my gums earned me a solid number of Perseverance Proficiency Points. Speaking of which¡­
Perseverance Level 1/10 Current proficiency points: 100/100 You have gained sufficient recognized proficiency to advance to Perseverance Level 2.
Perseverance Level 2/10 Current proficiency points: 200/200 You have gained sufficient recognized proficiency to advance to Perseverance Level 3.
Perseverance Level 3/10 Current proficiency points: 98/300
It had been five months since I promised myself I¡¯d seize a slice of agency in my life. Never before had I worked so hard to gain so little, yet the thrill of discovery urged me towards one of my proudest achievements since my rebirth. I could crawl. I know it may sound silly for a grown man to boast of such a comparatively simple accomplishment, but boast I shall. I set a goal and I stuck to it. That was a big deal for me. Every ounce of muscle memory and coordination was earned through boring repetition. Even with Perseverance I doubt I would have been able to maintain my routine if it wasn¡¯t literally one of the only activities available to me. The Proficiency Points came in quickly, at first, and it wasn¡¯t long before I was able to move with all the grace of a slug. Tina got so excited the first time she saw me inching away from Vigil at the kennel. Conversely, the large dog did not seem at all amused that his charge was suddenly mobile.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Sporadically, when I¡¯d feel my resolve start to shake, that same surge of something would spread from my stomach and fill me with the strength to, well, persevere. As I grew more confident in my motions and crawling became easier the Proficiency Points gradually tapered off, but by then I¡¯d already gained enough to reach Perseverance Level 2. Reaching Level 2 in Perseverance wasn¡¯t accompanied by anything dramatic, just a new System message and a new goal. I found myself taking pride in every point I earned. Maybe it was my imagination, but it also felt like those surges of perseverance came marginally more frequently when compared to Level 1. As the months continued to pass I began building the strength to stand, babbled phonetics, and devoted time to desperately delay the decay of my memories. The latter even started to award me the occasional Proficiency Point, but I couldn¡¯t be certain if it was because the activity itself was supported by the Skill or if it was the act of maintaining the routine. I hoped it was the former. My first word was ¡®dog¡¯, since I decided it would be funny and let me maintain parental-favorite-neutrality in the eyes of Tina and Tulos. They were generous in their praise and celebration of the milestone. If there was an issue with my timing, they didn¡¯t reveal it to me and I hadn¡¯t noticed any dramatic change in their behavior since. Basing when to reveal my developmental milestones on half-remembered baby trivia may not have been the wisest way to avoid suspicion, but it was all I had. This all culminated with my eventual jump to Perseverance Level 3, an ever growing verbal vocabulary, and the ability to move around on shaky steps in limited bursts. Once I worked out the last few balance kinks, the world would open up to me. Yet despite all of that, I was still relegated to a playpen and forced to endure the company of the children who I would no doubt have to pretend were my peers for years to come. Joy. ¡°Blam. Blam!¡± Bella punctuated that line of thinking with a delighted giggle. Alas, we are doomed to never know the wit that inspired such pure laughter. Sarcasm was one of my many healthy coping mechanisms when forced to deal with exhausting people. I know young children aren¡¯t exhausting in a malicious way, but they are still exhausting. I saw that one of our current babysitters, the woman I believed to be Bella¡¯s mother, was giving me a concerned look. I¡¯d relegated myself to one side of the room to try and avoid getting caught up in the childish antics of my cellmates but a baby content on sitting quietly was probably atypical in her experience if my brief exposure to Bella was any indicator. One of the wooden toys had been discarded nearby so I pulled myself to my feet and traveled the few steps necessary to plonk down next to it. I grabbed it and started idly bouncing it around, throwing in the occasional amused baby noise for good measure. A shadow fell over me. ¡°I want that. That is mine.¡± Jusep made his claim while pointing at the simple wooden doll. Evidently, he decided that the toy he hadn¡¯t touched since getting into the room was suddenly his by right the instant a different child started to play with it. Classic toddler move. It did, however, put me in a bind. I don¡¯t actually care about the doll, but I really don¡¯t want to let this kid grow up thinking he can boss me around. That¡¯ll get annoying fast if I have to endure the occasional play date. ¡°No.¡± My answer was simple and to the point. I spun my body to put my back to Jusep, hoping he¡¯d take the hint. In hindsight, I don¡¯t know why I was expecting any level of emotional maturity from a three year old. I should have anticipated that he¡¯d be a little shit about it. ¡°That. Is. Mine!¡± Jusep leaned over my shoulder to grab at the toy. He got a hold of it with his little sausage fingers and started yanking it backwards. I maintained my grip, relying on being anchored to the floor, but the kid was starting to whinge right in my ear. Yeah, this is no longer worth the hassle. I let go. Jusep continued to yank with all the force he could muster and stumbled backwards when there was a sudden absence of an opposing force. I turned my head just in time to see one of his feet get tangled in a blanket as he fell hard on his bottom, still clutching the toy. There was a pregnant pause. I saw the shock on his face as Jusep assessed the situation and decided he was unhappy. So he began to cry. Fucking, of course¡­ Jusep was loud and wailing for his mother. Bella¡¯s mom ran to try and comfort him, but her own daughter started to sympathy-cry at the situation and Jusep wasn¡¯t receptive to her soothing. She sent the young man who was with her off to fetch Jusep¡¯s parents and moved to comfort her own daughter. Jusep¡¯s face started to turn bright red as his tantrum continued. He threw the toy at me right as a group of adults entered the room. Fortunately, his aim was off and I escaped a potential concussion. Tina and Tulos were among the newcomers and they came to check on me. Tina scooped me into her arms as another woman did the same to Jusep. Presumably, her and the man accompanying her were his parents. Neither of them had been on babysitting duty yet at that point, so I didn¡¯t have a frame of reference. Jusep¡¯s father had the same solid build I¡¯d seen boasted by most of the men and many of the women in the village. Hauling hay bales or whatever it was the local farmers were doing to stay in shape was definitely working for them. After a hushed exchange with Jusep, he pointed an accusatory finger at Tulos. ¡°What did your son do to Jusep?¡± I saw a faint spray of spittle accompany his words and the flush in his cheeks wasn¡¯t born purely of anger. Had I been closer, I suspected the smell of fermented something would have assaulted my nostrils as it wafted through the thin-but-noticeable gap between his two front teeth. In hindsight, I should have just let the kid have the stupid toy. Chapter 11 ¡°Swont¡¯s are harmless to humans, for the most part. Technically, they¡¯re poisonous, so I wouldn¡¯t recommend eating one. If you see a group of swonts relaxing in a pool of mud, turn around and go the other way. There is one Beast that regularly preys on swonts and they most certainly are not harmless to humans.¡± ~Unknown Tulos looked between myself and the larger, crying boy clinging to his mother like a beige koala. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if the time it took him to crane his neck back and forth might somehow be sufficient to deescalate the situation. Jusep¡¯s father swiftly made it clear he was beyond the sobriety necessary for that. ¡°Tulos! I asked you a-¡± ¡°You can not possibly be implying Will hurt your son on purpose, Costa.¡± It was Tina, not Tulos who interjected on my behalf. I caught the unveiled irritation in her tone. The unspoken ¡®fuck all the way off¡¯ had been filtered down to a child-friendly objection. I admired her self-restraint. Tulos placed a supporting hand on her shoulder and went to add his own input. ¡°I-¡± ¡°With all due respect, Tina, I was talking to Tulos. This was an incident between sons, so we, the fathers, will sort it out.¡± Jusep¡¯s father - Costa - only slurred like two words while pissing off the woman with a giant metal dog and interrupting her husband. Brave. Foolish, but brave. If the man had any redeeming qualities, I wasn¡¯t seeing them. I mean¡­ he¡¯s looking out for his son, albeit in a misguided way. That¡¯s something admirable, I suppose. Surprisingly, Tina begrudgingly ceded Costa¡¯s point and stepped slightly behind Tulos, mirroring the position of Jusep¡¯s mother. As far as local customs went, it wasn¡¯t the most extreme I¡¯d heard of. I felt Tina practically bristle at her compliance, so I suspected she wasn¡¯t thrilled by the situation either. Watching her back down still felt weird, though. ¡°Costa, why are you accusing Will of doing something to your son?¡± Taking the cue, Tulos spoke with his usual, rumbling bass. I¡¯d grown familiar enough with his tells to know that he was just as annoyed as Tina; the whole exchange was feeling more intense than it should have. Since when did a minor conflict between children escalate to aggressive posturing? ¡°Because Jusep says he did. Are you suggesting my son is a liar?¡± There was a slight pause on his face, like he had to remain perfectly still while a thought floated to the surface of his alcohol soaked brain. ¡°Or are you saying your son is incapable of violence, just like his father?¡± His mocking tone made the goading intent of the question painfully transparent. Yet another villager seemed to hold some kind of disdain for my father. What did he mean by ¡®incapable of violence¡¯ though? More questions for later. Thankfully, Tulos didn¡¯t rise to the obvious bait, but I heard Tina mutter a curse under her breath. I looked over to Bella¡¯s mother, wondering why she hadn¡¯t chimed in to settle the dispute. She was still soothing her daughter by gently stroking her hair. Bella¡¯s cries had dulled to sniffles, so it was clear to me that the woman could have spared a moment to clear the air, especially given that she¡¯d witnessed the whole affair. It was vexing. Tulos took a deep breath and turned towards me. ¡°Will, did you hurt young Jusep?¡± There was a flatness to the question, like he was going through the motions to appease Captain Fuck Monkey. I got the impression Tulos wanted to avoid allowing whatever village drama he seemed to be at the center of to infect the issue.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡­ Relative age or not, Tulos is more mature than I am. It was hard to be the bigger man, but Tulos seemed to be nailing the concept on all possible fronts. In hindsight, I doubt Tulos was expecting to receive a coherent answer from me. He¡¯d heard my growing, if curated vocabulary. A smile would crack his stoic facade whenever I called him ¡®Dada¡¯, but there was a difference between baby talk and actual comprehension. The rational part of my mind knew it would be unwise to give an answer, but I¡¯d grown fond of Tulos and was tired of people talking down to him. ¡°No. I had toy. He-¡± I pointed at Jusep. ¡°-wanted it. I said no. He take. I let go. He fall.¡± I was still working out some syntax kinks so I kept the language as basic as I could and fudged my use of tense, but I got my point across. My squeaky baby voice wouldn¡¯t have carried through conversation but, thankfully, I had everyone¡¯s attention for that brief moment. Tulos¡¯ eyes widened in surprise and a crease of concern marred his forehead. Everyone else I could see also looked suitably stunned by my contribution. After a beat, Tulos recovered enough to turn his attention back to Costa. ¡°So, that settles it then,¡± he said evenly and made to escort Tina and I out of the room. I heard Costa¡¯s heavy footfalls as he quickly closed the distance and grabbed Tulos¡¯ shoulder to stop him. ¡°What do you mean it is settled?¡± Costa practically spat the words. ¡°I still say your son was at fault, and if you do not like that, we can step outside.¡± It was becoming clear to everyone that this was no longer about the incident. ¡°Shut your boarish face, Costa,¡± Tina snapped icily. I couldn¡¯t see her expression, but I knew the glare Costa received was venomous enough to drop an elephant. ¡°If you insist on acting the buffoon I will gladly step outside with you.¡± Costa scoffed, too drunk to realize he was treading dangerous ground. It¡¯s true I didn¡¯t necessarily know enough about Costa to say with certainty that his apparent confidence was misplaced, but Tina had Vigil backing her up. I couldn¡¯t imagine anyone wanting to deal with that without being bolstered by liquid stupidity. ¡°This is still business between fath-¡± Costa began to spew his rebuttal, but Tina cut him off. ¡°No. Tulos said that the matter was settled. I am saying that if you do not accept that then I will be inviting you outside.¡± She moved me to her hip to free up a hand for gesticulating. Every word was accompanied by a sharp gesture, like she intended to stab Costa with her diatribe. Before the man could respond, the door to the room opened to reveal a forehead-soaked Hwan. It was starting to get crowded at that point, and the older man wore a look of mild concern. ¡°Tina, could you please explain to me why your ¡­ has left their allocated location and is now prowling around the building? It is scaring some of the younger- it is scaring some folk.¡± He had to be talking about Vigil, but I didn¡¯t recognize the word he used to describe him. ¡°There is no issue,¡± she replied. ¡°We were just getting ready to leave.¡± I spared a glance at Costa who was glaring at my parents and noticed that Jusep¡¯s mother had placed a hand on his arm. It was an awkward arrangement, given that Jusep was still clinging to her, but her touch was keeping the moron restrained for the time being. Hwan frowned, clearly not convinced, but he didn¡¯t pry any further. Tulos, Tina and I moved by him, Tulos once again having to duck his head through the doorway. ¡°Amy, Lianda, it was lovely to see you two,¡± Tina said sweetly to the other two mothers in the room before we stepped back into the festivities. She didn¡¯t wait for their reply. As the door closed, I heard Hwan begin asking about what happened which made my face sour. I get that we wanted to stop the conflict from escalating, but I¡¯m still annoyed we aren¡¯t going to be present to¡­ I let the thought trail off. I wouldn¡¯t be defending my actions in either case, Tulos and Tina would. They decided the best call was to leave and I needed to trust their judgment. A wall of complex festival odors slammed into me as we left the building so I let myself indulge in the spectacle. We wove through the groups of celebrating adults, tables laden with food, and barrels of fermented alcohol. Someone had started playing a musical instrument that reminded me of a cross between a guitar and a banjo and a handful of couples were dancing to the upbeat jig. Occasionally, we paused to say goodbye to someone. Zetta made a rude gesture in the direction of the central building when Tina gave her the short version of what happened and offered to do something to the brain of Costa¡¯s sheep¡­ I think it was some kind of idiom. If that means what I think it does, Zetta just earned major ride-or-die points in my book. We ended up leaving on the wrong end of the village and having to circle around, passing by a pair of large silos. A man armed with a club, much like the one Rual had, was seated on a log nearby and nodded to us as we passed. I felt bad that my stupid decision was responsible for our early departure. I needed to figure out what the deal with Tulos was. Not that I¡¯d be able to ask about it any time soon¡­ On the plus side, it would hopefully be a while before I had to endure ¡®socializing¡¯ with children again. Small victories. Chapter 12 ¡°Unfortunately, I will have to cut the lecture short. Yes, I realize many of you may feel I have wasted your time today. I do not care. Frankly, I have better things to do right now. Go home. If you must learn something today, then know that I will face no real consequences for this, such is my value. Make of that what you will.¡± ~Unknown Time, as always, continued to pass. Before I knew it, I was part way through my fourth year as Will. Just Will, so far as I knew. I wasn¡¯t even sure if I had a surname. Presumably I did, it had just never come up. I rode on Vigil¡¯s back as Tina and I followed the path to Elbura. He walked with such surety that I never once felt like I might fall, not that it stopped me from grabbing two fistfulls of fur to hold myself steady, just in case. Being small enough to ride a dog was one of the highlights of my second childhood and I still occasionally found myself pulling a big, dopey smile at the juvenile silliness of it all. Our destination was a play date with Bella and Jusep, making it doubly important I seize joy while I still could. Lianda, Bella¡¯s mom, ended up coming through for us. Costa apparently kicked up a fuss and tried to have me excluded from future socialization with the other two children, citing some nonsense about my temperament. I honestly couldn¡¯t tell if he was doubling down on the issue because of pride or because he rocked a massive hate-boner for Tulos. Probably a bit of both, honestly. Regardless, Lianda basically took a neutral stance and said that she wasn¡¯t going to bar me or Jusep from seeing her daughter. Faced with the ultimatum, Costa and Amy had a change of heart. Once a week one family would host the other two children for a day so we could get the kind of interaction necessary for healthy development. I gathered that Tina and the other mothers were taking charge of the whole affair since Tulos, Costa, and Bella¡¯s father - a mustachioed sheep shepherd named Figuelo - had barely gotten involved. It was probably for the best given the aforementioned tension among that side of the parental equation. Entertaining the other two children was a regular source of exasperation for me, but the playdate wasn¡¯t my focus that day. I had a very different goal in mind. ¡°Mom, can you tell me about Perseverance?¡± I¡¯d been thinking about how to best approach the issue of the System with my parents for years. It seemed strange to me that neither Tina nor Tulos had tried to educate me about the seemingly innate magic of the world and my earlier attempts at subtly raising the issue were casually deflected. I was three years old and speaking in complete sentences. The time for subtlety was over. Besides, kids were curious and asked blunt questions all the time. There were viral videos built on the very premise. Tina¡¯s step faltered and she snapped her gaze around as if to check that one of the villagers working in the nearby fields hadn¡¯t heard my question. I say nearby, but they were easily far enough away that Tina¡¯s reaction bordered on paranoia. She was quick to collect herself and smile sweetly at me. ¡°We can talk about that-¡± ¡°But I want you to tell me now.¡± I knew it was rude to cut her off like that, but I wanted to come across as an annoyingly curious child so I had to sell it. I thought back to her conversation with Zetta all those years ago. I¡¯d long forgotten most of it, but one thing stood out in my memory because of how often I obsessed over it. Tina lied about my Core Skill. I wanted to know why. Sorry in advance, Tina. ¡°If you won¡¯t tell me I can ask Aunt Lianda.¡± For some reason, Tina didn¡¯t want people to know about Perseverance and I was not above abusing that information. I recalled the changes to my System windows over the last couple of years.
Perseverance Level 3/10 Current proficiency points: 300/300 You have gained sufficient recognized proficiency to advance to Perseverance Level 4.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
¡­ ¡­ ¡­
Perseverance Level 6/10 Current proficiency points: 600/600 You have gained sufficient recognized proficiency to advance to Perseverance Level 7.
Perseverance Level 7/10 Current proficiency points: 121/700
My well of easy Proficiency Points dried up once I finished getting a handle on walking and the basics of verbal language. I hadn¡¯t seen any books in the house, but I was hoping that eventually learning how to read and write would be another task challenging enough for a windfall. As Perseverance leveled up, I found myself having an easier time both starting and maintaining beneficial routines. It might have also been that my new brain lacked the chemical imbalances that made routines so difficult for me in my first life. Either way, I was still acquiring a handful of points here and there but the requirements to level up the Skill were growing steeper. And I still have no idea what the fuck a Skill Augmentation is. I needed to know more about the System. The shadow of the Unnamed Skill loomed over me and I felt like I¡¯d barely taken any steps to get closer to it. That needed to change. The face of my fianc¨¦ came to mind. I knew it wasn¡¯t right, I knew some of the details were missing, but I still cherished the memory. It was all I had left. Tina¡¯s eyes widened at my remark and I knew my childish ultimatum had hit its mark. She frowned and bent over to look me in the eye. Her eyes looked dangerous, so much so that I almost faltered then and there. ¡°Will, you can not ask Aunt Lianda or any other adults about Perseverance.¡± It was probably the sternest I¡¯d heard her all my life. Vigil stopped walking so that Tina could give me her full attention, the traitor. I didn¡¯t relent. I couldn¡¯t. ¡°Why?¡± It felt like a checkmate moment. I was in position to trap Tina in an infinite loop of childish inquiry. ¡°Because¡­¡± She hesitated, trying to gauge how much she could safely say. For the most part, I¡¯d been a well-behaved child content to take things at face value since I had the maturity to read social cues. I was changing the game. Tina had experience with pups, but I hoped a smart-mouthed three year old would catch her off guard. ¡°Because I said so.¡± It didn¡¯t take a genius to figure out she wasn¡¯t confident with the answer and she was right to be apprehensive. ¡°Why?¡± I did my best to hit the specific, lilting tone kids used when they asked that question. You know the one. I had a younger cousin who could nail it, before. I¡¯ll spare you the details, but we went back and forth close to ten times before Tina inevitably hit her breaking point and snapped at me to be quiet and do as she said. I doubt it was her proudest moment, and I wasn¡¯t about to be judgemental because of it. I was quite literally pushing against boundaries and being a brat to get what I wanted. She probably had good reason to try and shield her son from what she perceived as a harsh truth. I¡¯d have even wagered that she and Tulos planned to tell me when they believed I was old enough to handle it. I just couldn¡¯t wait that long. There was a pregnant pause. Tina¡¯s frustration, worn clearly on her face, quickly gave way to regret as the reality of her outburst caught up to her. ¡°Listen, Will, if I promise to tell you about Perseverance and ¡­ when we get home, will you promise to not tell Aunt Lianda about it?¡± She sounded defeated. I was tempted for a foolish second to come clean about everything and spare Tina from thinking that she¡¯d made a parenting mistake. I didn¡¯t. That would have been stupid¡­ but I was tempted. ¡°What¡¯s ¡­?¡± I parroted the word back to her and quickly followed up the question, doing my best to appear innocent. ¡°I will promise to not tell Aunt Lianda if you tell me that first.¡± The irony of vehemently turning down Manipulation (Social) during my Core Skill selection despite my current actions wasn¡¯t lost on me. Thankfully, Tina gave me an answer. You know that German word, ¡®Schadenfreude''? It¡¯s a word to describe the feeling of borderline sadistic pleasure one might feel in response to the bad fortunes of another. Complex, esoteric, and condensed into a word that, as demonstrated, doesn¡¯t cleanly translate. The word Tina introduced me to was the same. It was their word to describe what I had been referring to as The System. Loosely translated, it refers to ¡®the path of life and the guide down the path¡¯. Not exactly the smoothest mouthful, so I decided to just keep referring to it as The System to myself. Given that The System referred to itself as such in my notifications, it was probably the closest way to describe itself in English based on my personal understanding of the concept. Maybe. Fuck, I don¡¯t know. It was a loose conjecture at best and I had no way of looking into it. It wasn¡¯t a priority. I had a promise from Tina to get the explanation I so desperately craved. Advancement inched ever closer and I wanted to be ready for it. No doubt she was hoping I¡¯d forget by the time we got back to the house, that some passing fancy would distract me from the conversation. She would be disappointed. Now all I have to do is survive an afternoon enduring whatever nonsense game Jusep and Bella invent. The thought was a sobering one. Chapter 13 ¡°Introspection is important in the pursuit of Skill mastery, but Introspection is an anchor. You might think I am wrong, that you will succeed where all else failed. When they retrieve your dehydrated corpse I will have no sympathy.¡± ~Unknown Normally I¡¯d be exhausted after an afternoon ¡®playing¡¯ with Jusep and Bella. Not just physical exhaustion, it was mentally draining to pretend I was engaged with their childish nonsense for hours on end. I missed the internet. Babysitting my nephew when I could throw on whatever animated movie was popular that month and recover while they sang along to songs they¡¯d heard a thousand times before was way easier than having to actually engage. General frustrations aside, that day was different. The mounting anticipation of finally getting a local perspective of The System kept me rejuvenated even as Bella babbled rules for a game I didn¡¯t care about for the umpteenth time. When we returned home, Tina tried to distract me with talks of dinner and helping her in the kitchen. Stews were a common staple on our menu since I graduated from the mush. When I was given the privilege of ¡®helping¡¯ it would be to do things like count the pieces of not-potato that went into the pot before we transferred it to the stove. Tina would count along with me the first few times to teach me numbers, which I found endearing. Tulos spent the time loading up a wagon for the following morning. Mostly cuts of wood for all manner of purpose, but he¡¯d recently picked up the odd hobby of using a small hatchet to carve simple figurines, a selection of which I saw him bundle in cloth and add to his delivery. The meal was filling, if bland by my old life¡¯s standards. I¡¯d grown used to the relative lack of seasoning used in the local cuisine, though. One had to show restraint with the salt when restocking wasn¡¯t as simple as a trip to the local supermarket. ¡°Mom, is it time for you to tell me about Perseverance now?¡± I asked innocently after Tina finished the washing up outside. No plumbing. I missed it even more than the internet. I was sitting on our front step while Tulos sat on a nearby stump he¡¯d fashioned into a stool capable of comfortably supporting him. He was idly smoking a pipe and had, until that moment, appeared content. In response to my question he sputtered and choked, his peaceful inhale interrupted by the apparent spontaneity of my request. A small cloud of ash lingered around him as he silently sought an explanation from his wife. Tina shot Tulos an apologetic look and I had to restrain a chuckle when I realized how he was completely blindsided by the development. ¡°I almost forgot about that,¡± she lied smoothly. ¡°A promise is a promise though.¡± She sat next to me and scooped me up so I¡¯d be sitting on her lap. It made it impossible to see her face which, in hindsight, was probably the idea. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, and for a moment I worried she was about to concoct a last minute excuse to delay. Fortunately, I was wrong. ¡°I already told you a little bit about The System,¡± she lectured, still not sounding entirely sure of herself. She used her native word for The System but I just translated it in my head to keep my thoughts straight. ¡°For you, Perseverance is-¡± ¡°What do you think Perseverance is, Will?¡± Tulos cut in. I can only imagine Tina had signaled with her eyes that she needed the assist and Tulos was quick to catch on. He looked at me patiently and I knew he¡¯d give me as much time as I needed to answer. Probably. Well shit, this is less than ideal. I scrunched up my face in thought which elicited an almost-smile from Tulos. His lip briefly twitched into an upwards turn before he settled back into his default stoicism. They were stalling and it was working. Tulos probably thought I was wracking my young brain trying to think about how to articulate my experiences. I was definitely wracking, but my concern was how much I should say.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. This could really screw me over. If The System was universally a semi-transparent blue screen for everyone, regardless of literacy, then there¡¯s no way a child - or anyone illiterate, really - would be able to gain insight into their Core Skill. Hwan¡¯s orb manifested a screen, so I felt confident that it wasn¡¯t unique to me to have it presented as such, but I didn¡¯t know what the default should be. That and Tina didn¡¯t look at me like I¡¯d grown a third eye when I mentioned Perseverance. It had to be possible for children to know something. No matter how much I said, it would be a gamble. Do I share my full understanding and assume that, even without a screen, a person can just kind of know their Skills and progression? But then why bother with a screen at all? Is it just a general sense of things? I needed to make a decision before Tulos and Tina left me with the problem as homework and ended the conversation. Stop. Breathe. Make a decision and deal with damage control later. I closed my eyes and followed my own instructions. It was another benefit I was attributing to my increasing levels of Perseverance. The bridge between my mind and body felt sturdier. Less cluttered. The transition from thought to action had never felt so smooth. Having made a decision, I spoke. ¡°Perseverance is something inside of me.¡± I pointed at my stomach, the source of the mysterious surges that sporadically came from the Skill when I needed them. ¡°It started small, but it is getting bigger. When it gets big enough, I feel like something is going to happen. What¡¯s going to happen?¡± I erred on the side of caution and tried to explain everything with vague, childish feelings. I felt Tina stiffen behind me and was immediately concerned I¡¯d said too much. ¡°You said it¡¯s getting bigger? How many times has it gotten bigger, Will?¡± She sounded concerned and Tulos¡¯ gaze also intensified. I¡¯d definitely said too much, but I didn¡¯t dare backtrack. I worried that if they caught me in a lie at that moment I¡¯d make them suspicious, and I had bigger secrets to worry about than my Skill. I had to take my chances. ¡°Six times, I think.¡± I tried to sound clumsily confident, like I was a regular kid sharing something interesting with his parents. Tina muttered something under her breath that sounded like a curse and Tulos¡¯ eyebrows shot up. ¡°My love, that is-¡± ¡°It is.¡± The pause was palpable. I went into crisis mode. Surely I was progressing too fast and had raised some kind of alarm bells. An interrogation had to be imminent. I tried to get a look at Tina but the underside of her chin wasn¡¯t exactly telling. She was looking at Tulos, the pair of them having one of those silent conversations couples sometimes had. Finally, Tulos spoke. ¡°Perseverance is your Core Skill.¡± Much like with The System, their words for the Skill classification were different but ultimately had the same meaning after Tulos explained them to me in context. Tina remained silent, which surprised me. I¡¯d have thought she¡¯d be taking the lead in the explanation. ¡°When a child is born we count the days. After one-hundred-and-eighty days The System bestows them with a Core Skill. Will, your Core Skill is Perseverance. A Universal Core.¡± Behind me, Tina pointedly coughed and Tulos nodded before continuing. ¡°Some people instead believe that we are born with our Core Skills and that The System merely reveals them to us.¡± My eyes went wide with excitement. Finally! New information! It was a simple explanation, no doubt hastily tailored for a child. Idly, I wondered how much of the explanation they expected me to remember. It wasn¡¯t a huge surprise that people had different beliefs surrounding The System and how it functioned. Honestly, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if there was a religion or seven based off of it. I knew stories of people giving divine significance to stains on a plank of wood, let alone a literal magical thing that made itself known to everyone. What Tulos said didn¡¯t sound like dogma, but he hadn¡¯t necessarily ruled out System religions either. ¡°What are your Core Skills?¡± I made a show of looking between the two of them, not having to feign the eagerness on my face. I had my theories, of course, but the mystery of Tina and Tulos¡¯ Core Skills had been nagging at me since I discovered The System. The silent tension returned. Tulos looked conflicted and I still couldn¡¯t see Tina¡¯s face, but she gave me a gentle hug. It was Tina who broke the silence first. ¡°My love, we do not have to¡­¡± she trailed off when Tulos held up a hand to forestall the rest of her sentence. ¡°He will find out eventually. Best to tell him on our terms.¡± He gave me a reassuring smile and I returned it as best I could. Internally, I was buzzing. Tulos and his role in the community felt like a massive puzzle for which I only had half a corner piece. Every second felt like it stretched while he gathered the resolve he needed to enlighten me. Finally, he spoke. Chapter 14 ¡°Skill Specializations have the capacity to be even more varied than Skills if our records are any indication. They can even allow for one Skill to touch upon the domain of another. I have seen wanted posters cautioning of a man with both Murder [Blades] and Weapons [Blades, Murder]. I can only imagine the deeds necessary for¡­ well, best not to consider such things.¡± ~Unknown ¡°My Core Skill is Weapons [Axe], a Combat Core.¡± Tulos sounded almost¡­ ashamed. He squeezed his knees. Thick fingers dragged the fabric of his trousers into a bunch forcefully enough that it was audible. His eyes met mine, searching for judgment. It was like he¡¯d momentarily forgotten I was a child who lacked the social context necessary to draw a conclusion without an explanation. It was telling that he expected one, though. I just couldn¡¯t figure out what it was telling. I tilted my head in genuine confusion. That sounds like an awesome Skill to have, I don¡¯t¡­ ¡°Why do you look upset, dad? Do you not like your Core Skill?¡± My new language didn¡¯t use contractions. Consequently, this made everyone - myself included - sound more verbose than I was used to. I¡¯d come from an age of rampant abbreviations and emojis, where punctuation and syntax were withered husks suckling the lifeforce from an old collection of encyclopedias in an attic somewhere, but I digress. Hearing about Tulos¡¯ Core Skill brought clarity to some of my earlier observations. It explained the crescent-bearded goliath of an axe Tulos used to chop firewood. That thing was clearly designed to cleave a person, not plant fibers. A relic of his past, perhaps. What confused me was that I had never seen Tulos, like, ¡®practicing forms¡¯ or any of that cool warrior stuff you read about. He used his axe to chop down trees and work the wood. That¡¯s it. Nothing else. Wait, that¡¯s not entirely true. Sometimes he used it to prop open a door, but the point stands. A sad smile graced Tulos¡¯ expression. ¡°That is correct, Will. I do not like my Core Skill.¡± ¡°Can you tell me why?¡± I saw his eyes flicker upwards, possibly seeking approval from Tina. Or help. This side of Tulos appeared so infrequently that I was having trouble reading him. ¡°It is not a story for children,¡± he eventually replied. ¡°I am 3-years-old,¡± I rebutted. ¡°I am almost grown up.¡± Trying to ride the line between too childish and scarily mature was a delicate dance that I suspect I¡¯d fumbled several times over the years. That day, I erred on the side of childish. Tulos gave a slight chuckle at my declaration. It would have been interesting to learn more about my new father, but I ultimately decided I wouldn¡¯t push the issue too hard. I could justify pestering him about his Core Skill due to its possible relevance to my own situation. Badgering him to tell a personal story, one that he clearly felt sensitive about, would be a dick move. Worst case I¡¯d ask him again over a beer or something when I turned whatever the drinking age was, assuming I was still around. ¡°My sweet¡­¡± Tina interjected hesitantly before Tulos could shut down my request outright. ¡°It might be a good idea to tell Will a simplified version. It could help him understand why he needs to keep Perseverance a secret for as long as possible.¡± Tulos looked between the two of us before sighing. ¡°It seems I have been convinced.¡± He gently ruffled my hair, now just as dark and shaggy as his own, with a massive hand. ¡°Where to begin¡­Stolen story; please report. ¡°I was born here, in Elbura. Your grandparents moved away, but that is a later part of the story. We found out about my Core Skill- well, they found out about my Core Skill. Your grandparents, that is. They found out first. I found out too, which¡­¡± Look, I¡¯m going to spare you the awkward storytelling of Tulos and share the abbreviated version. Otherwise, we are going to be here all day. Tulos¡¯ default stoicism gave him time to deliberately consider his words and made him come across as reserved in most situations. Articulating a whole story was a challenge for him, which was fine. People have different strengths. Tulos found it difficult to tell a coherent story the same way I found it difficult to outperform a draft horse¡­ or bench one. *** Tulos, like me, was born in the farmlands surrounding Elbura. We lived in what was once his childhood home. Six months after Tulos¡¯ birth, the nature of his Core Skill was discovered by the village head of the time, Hwan¡¯s predecessor. Where Tina and Tulos valued keeping Perseverance a secret, my grandparents loudly celebrated the rarity of their infant son¡¯s Core Skill. Their reasoning aligned with my own conjecture based on the System notifications I¡¯d read. Core Skills would inevitably guide or shape someone¡¯s advancement, often to the point of defining their role in society. On paper, having Weapons [Axe] as a Core Skill meant Tulos had the potential to be one of the most proficient warriors in the world. Once he was old enough, Tulos was carted away to the kingdom¡¯s capital to be of service to The Crown. It had been a long while since I last acknowledged the uncertainty regarding my spatial and temporal location. I said uncertainty only as a technicality at that point, but it felt like the tiniest sliver of the flimsiest lifeline so I stubbornly held on to it. Kingdoms and monarchies were, to my knowledge, functionally obsolete on a global scale beyond the occasional figurehead. At least, that was the case on Earth¡­ The way Tulos eventually put it, contributing a child with a desirable Core Skill to The Crown was seen as a great honor. These contributions were richly rewarded depending on the rarity and functionality of the Skill. Allegedly, it afforded many privileges and opportunities to the child, as well. From the way Tina grumbled at this part of the story I inferred that my grandparent¡¯s views on the subject did not align with her own. There was some truth to the claims. Tulos received an education comparable to that of a noble child¡¯s while gradually being taught the fundamentals necessary to gain Proficiency Points in his Skill. He glossed over the details, so I am unable to comment on the specifics of his training or living situation. Presumably Tulos had at least one teacher or mentor or something, but he never actually said as much. His Core Skill made the physical training and weapon drills come easy to him. At first, he excelled. Mirroring my own experience, those early Skill levels came quickly. It provided some context for the shock my own levels in Perseverance elicited. My progression was notably above average for my age. As someone with a Universal Core, there were significantly more things I could do that drew upon the Skill when compared to someone with a specialized Skill. Hypothetically, if Tulos had never wielded an axe he might have never gained a single Proficiency Point. I felt relieved I hadn¡¯t accidentally taken a chance with a random Core Skill when I considered the possibility of having my advancement in The System cosmically cucked by a bad roll of the metaphysical dice. It wasn¡¯t long until Tulos achieved his First Advancement. My efforts to ask about the milestone were firmly dismissed as being irrelevant to the story. Given Tulos¡¯ difficulty maintaining a single thread of narrative, let alone several, I didn¡¯t fight the decision. *** ¡°What happened next?¡± I¡¯d been doing my best to make my persistent interest in the story clear with the occasional interjection. It was an interesting story, but it still hadn¡¯t explained how Tulos went from martial prot¨¦g¨¦ to a farming community¡¯s borderline pariah. Tulos shared another knowing look with Tina and took a long moment to consider how to continue. ¡°Sometimes, Will, people will ask you to do something you do not want to do. They will do their best to convince you that it needs to be done, that you do not have a choice.¡± There was a gravity to his voice, a clarity that had been absent for most of the story. ¡°You always have a choice, Will. Do you understand?¡± The dim light from the flickering flames framed Tulos¡¯ face in stark shadows. Wood smoke tickled my nostrils. The severity of the moment wasn¡¯t lost on me. Tulos would probably later feel foolish for getting so intense with a child, but whatever he was alluding to clearly haunted him on some level. I have some guesses, but I¡¯m not about to pry. Whatever it was is probably not even remotely child-friendly so I¡¯ll keep my mouth shut. ¡°I understand, dad.¡± Tina hugged me tightly with one arm and scooted forward to lay a comforting hand on Tulos with the other. The seconds stretched over our tableau until Tulos snapped back to himself. ¡°If it were not for your mother, I would probably still be there doing System-knows what.¡± It wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d heard Tulos use a System-inspired idiom. I found them to be rather charming. I had been wondering how Tina tied into everything. This ought to be good. Chapter 15 ¡°I lived my whole life excited to be defined by my Core Skill only to discover that doing so would be to lose all sense of myself.¡± ~Unknown Whatever the inciting incident may have been, it resulted in Tulos forsaking violent applications of his Core Skill. This was a problem. Tulos represented an investment of time and resources people in power would loathe to take a loss on. Simply leaving was an impossible prospect, and outright refusal to perform would be met with coercion at best. Perhaps unsurprisingly, nothing greased the wheels of circumstance like wealth shamelessly flaunted. Tina¡¯s father was a merchant, a successful one. Leo Duscall had his finger in enough ventures to rub elbows, shoulders or whatever appendage he wanted with the noble class and not seem out of place. It was a dynasty, of sorts. Leo inherited the business from his father and would inevitably bequeath it to one of his progeny. Tina Duscall was his only daughter, the fifth of seven children born to three separate mothers. Grandpa Leo was a bit of a romantic. I asked if Tina would be the one to inherit the business, not because I actually expected the answer to be yes, but because I wanted to know what the process was. When Leo was ready to step down, any of his children who wanted to take over would plead their case and he would make a decision. If reality television had taught me anything, there would also be back deals layered over betrayals and deception occurring behind closed doors. Naturally, the nuance of greed and human nature wasn¡¯t included in her lecture to a small child. Tina was confident that, even if she wanted to be the new head of her family, she would be unsuccessful. It was, quite literally, a Skill issue. Vigil wasn¡¯t much of an accountant. Tulos and Tina had crossed paths through their respective educations which eventually sparked their courtship. I didn¡¯t get the full story - when Tina mentioned the ¡®vase incident¡¯ Tulos blushed and moved the story along - but was content to accept the explanation for what it was. When Tulos told Tina about his predicament she reached out to her family for help. It was the kind of blind dedication reserved for those you fall in love with and the pair shared a loving glance at the memory. *** ¡°Your father must-¡± ¡°He is your grandfather, Will.¡± Tina gently corrected me before encouraging me to continue. A few strands of hair had gotten rebellious and coiled over her eye. She took a moment to wrangle the offenders while I almost rolled my eyes at the semantics. ¡°My grandfather must be very nice to help dad like that.¡± There wasn¡¯t an easy way for me to say he must be ¡®generous as fuck¡¯ without blowing my cover, but the sentiment was there. Honestly, something wasn¡¯t adding up. Call me jaded, but I found it hard to believe that this Leo person would cop such a supposedly monumentous financial and influential blow due to their charitable spirit. Tina¡¯s response reinforced my suspicion. ¡°It is not that simple, Will. What your grandfather did for your father was difficult, even with the resources he could call upon.¡± I¡¯d moved out of her lap by that point in the story and watched a thoughtful expression settle onto her face. ¡°I needed support, so-¡± Tulos coughed pointedly and gestured subtly in my direction with his head when he got Tina¡¯s attention. A faint blush dyed her cheeks and she coughed to regather her composure. ¡°Those details can wait until you are older.¡± Her voice had jumped up half an octave as she rushed through the sentence. I looked to Tulos for an explanation but he just shrugged enigmatically at me before continuing the story. You know, I cannot decide if that is ominous or not¡­ *** A deal was struck. The true extent of the terms were obscured from me, but I was able to infer two key points. Firstly, Tulos was restricted to living in and around Elbura, the village of his birth. It was like house arrest except broader in scope. Secondly, he was prohibited from further Advancement and was required to have his Core Skill measured periodically by a local official. Currently, that was Hwan, which explained their relative familiarity.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. As someone with a Combat Core, Tulos represented a potential threat to people¡¯s safety if given free reign. As such, his desire for a peaceful life needed to be monitored and, if necessary, enforced. The fact that a governing body was taking such steep precautions spoke volumes. Just what scale of personal power would people in my new life have the capacity to possess? I didn¡¯t know if I should be excited or terrified. *** ¡°Your mother and I moved to Elbura. Well, I moved back to Elbura. It was your mother¡¯s first time moving here. Then later on, we had you. Well, your mother had you, I just-¡± ¡°Darling, he is three,¡± Tina cautioned before her husband accidentally stumbled into a premature lecture detailing where babies come from. Tulos¡¯ mouth snapped closed with an audible pop. He gave his wife a nod of thanks before retrieving the small leather pouch where he stashed his halaweed - dried plant matter that smells vaguely like tobacco - and began loading his pipe. ¡°Where did your mother and father - my other grandparents - go?¡± Tina gave me an approving nod when I gave my extended family their proper titles. I wasn¡¯t satisfied with where the story ended. There were still questions that needed to be answered. The final wisps of twilight were preparing to follow the Sun over the horizon. I wanted to get my answers before I was put to bed. The thought of sleep set a yawn to rumbling in the back of my chest. I clamped down on the traitorous bodily function, loathe to give Tina the excuse she needed. Tulos looked over to the small fire he¡¯d kindled earlier in the evening to light his pipe. It had long been reduced to ashes. He sighed. ¡°You really should be getting ready for bed, Will.¡± In the end, efforts were futile in the face of a tired father who wanted peace. There was only one card left to play. ¡°But I have questions!¡± I whinged and looked between both my parents, begging them with my eyes. Surprisingly, Tulos must have decided that indulging me would be faster than talking me down. ¡°I will answer one question, the one about your grandparents, and then it is time for bed.¡± ¡°Three questions.¡± I knew I was pushing my luck, but knowing about the grandparents I hadn¡¯t met yet wasn¡¯t my highest priority. ¡°Two. Final offer.¡± ¡°Okay!¡± I chirped. It wasn¡¯t the System symposium I was hoping for, but it would have to do. Tina moved over to the firepit and began the task of reigniting a gentle blaze while Tulos cleared his throat and continued talking. ¡°Your grandparents moved away,¡± he said bluntly and took a slow puff of his unlit pipe. The aroma of dried halaweed was already suffusing the area. Even when unburned, that stuff was pungent. His answer was deliberately short and we both knew it. ¡°Where-¡± I almost asked where they moved to before I could catch myself. Tulos, you sly dog. No offense, Vigil. A follow-up question was still a question and I couldn¡¯t risk wasting it as an unwilling participant in a battle of wits. ¡°That is not an interesting answer,¡± I pretended to sulk while keeping a close eye on Tulos. ¡°You could always ask for more information.¡± I swear I caught a glint of mischief in his eyes when he said that. Dad shenanigans were truly universal. ¡°Why are people in the village mean to you?¡± I didn¡¯t dignify the taunt with a response and instead asked my final question. I heard Tulos suck his teeth around the pipe which now hung unsupported from his mouth. Behind him, Tina briefly paused from her work to look at us before slamming the flint and steel together in a shower of sparks over the kindling. A fresh flame began to release an orange glow. ¡°You noticed that?¡± The faint amusement at our back and forth had been smothered by my question. Honestly, it made me feel like I¡¯d put my foot in my mouth. I could have just played along and let Tulos have his fun after revisiting a troubling history. Instead I made the selfish choice. I nodded and momentarily felt my resolve waver before I clamped it down. Eyes on the prize. I need all the information I can get. He¡¯ll be fine. Do it for her. ¡°The answer to that is complicated¡­¡± Tulos began. I saw his brow furrow as he tried to organize his thoughts in response to the unexpected line of inquiry. ¡°Do you remember when we talked about not being wasteful with our food?¡± Again, I nodded. It was one of many baby-lessons I¡¯d had to endure. ¡°Some people think that not using my Core Skill is wasteful. They do not like that.¡± Wait, for real? To me, it sounded like people were jealous, misguided, or both. Tulos was the scapegoat for everyone¡¯s inadequacies. A measuring stick for failure in the eyes of society. Oh, your life didn¡¯t go the way you thought it was going to go? Don¡¯t worry! It could be worse! You could be a probably-pacifist with a Combat Core who bailed on service to The Crown. Fucking morons. ¡°That sounds silly.¡± Even in a world where magic was real, people were petty. It was vexing¡­ well, it was human, I suppose. My frustration continued to simmer, but I was determined to let it go. No sense holding a grudge on Tulos¡¯ behalf. I doubted he¡¯d want that. ¡°It is.¡± Tulos smiled warmly at me. ¡°Now. Time for bed.¡± He looked at me sternly as if daring me to try reneging on our deal. I didn¡¯t. I waddled to bed after a round of sweet goodnights. It was a small bed Tulos made me. I¡¯d grown out of the crib. Tina even tucked me in. Sleep came easily despite my growing excitement. I¡¯d gotten my parents to open up about The System. That meant I could do it again, and I would. I had a lot to learn. Chapter 16 ¡°Without opportunities to test the limits of our Skills, they stagnate. We stagnate. It¡¯s why crime is tolerated, to a point. Without criminals, those recruited to enforce the law lack opportunities to advance. Of course, the inverse is also true, to a point. Moving unnoticed into a home is not much of an accomplishment when there is no real risk involved. It¡¯s an odd balance.¡± ~Unknown The wheel turns. The cow shits. Whatever imagery you assign to the passage of time does nothing to halt its steady procession. My childhood days continued to pass with regularity that eventually became routine as I settled further into my identity as Will Duscall. Duscall, the same surname as my mother¡¯s side of the family. For the record, Tulos¡¯ surname was Tostro. Tradition dictated I adopt the family name of the parent with the highest social status. In our case, that was Tina by a wide margin. I occasionally wondered how such a thing was determined in less obvious situations but didn¡¯t devote much energy to the question. My fifth birthday was weeks behind me. The calendar was another one of those eerily familiar details that prevented me from completely dismissing the possibility that I was still on Earth. Hours in a day, days in week, weeks in a month and months in a year. It was all the same. Stuff had different names, of course, but it was otherwise uncanny. That last birthday weighed heavily on my mind. My fianc¨¦ and I were together for five years before my sudden, unexpected death. A death I still couldn¡¯t remember. I had officially been apart from her longer than we were together. Cruel realities are often the most haunting. Like all good intrusive thoughts, it would strike suddenly and without rhyme or reason, ravaging my mood and digging its slimy tendrils into my psyche. I¡¯d feel empty. Hollow. Sick. Those days were not productive. Even with the support of Perseverance I¡¯d usually wind up wasting the rest of the day in ruthless self-critique for things beyond my control. It wasn¡¯t all bad, though. No, that phrasing is unfair. Most days were, objectively, wonderful, and I collected many fond memories. Tulos and I shared our enjoyment of thunderstorms when they happened to roll through. We wouldn¡¯t talk, just enjoy silent company while watching lightning split the sky. Tina took note of my love for dogs. When I was big enough to take a more active role during our daily visits to the kennel she began teaching me the basics of her profession. There was even a new litter of puppies to replace those who graduated and were shipped off to work in neighboring villages. There were smiles, there was laughter. There were tears and there was frustration. We were a family. Some nights, when I was left alone with my thoughts, I¡¯d ask myself why I was holding on so fiercely to the life I lost¡­ I didn¡¯t have a good answer. It¡¯s funny, isn¡¯t it? Part of me knew she¡¯d want me to let go - to move on. Part of me knew that tearing myself between who I was and who I was becoming would cause me nothing but pain. I knew this, yet I could not let go. I wasn¡¯t ready. I don¡¯t think I ever wanted to be. Funny, right? *** I was on the cusp of my first Advancement. The rate at which I was able to generate proficiency points was, according to my parents, absurd for my age. Fortunately, they accredited most of my progress to the nature of my Skill and not that I had the cognitive capacity to deliberately plan and push the limits of Perseverance. The benefits of the Skill I¡¯d previously observed grew more pronounced with every level. It had reached the point I could stick to positive routines with barely any conscious effort.
Perseverance Level 7/10 Current proficiency points: 700/700 You have gained sufficient recognized proficiency to advance to Perseverance Level 8.
Perseverance Level 8/10 Current proficiency points: 800/800 You have gained sufficient recognized proficiency to advance to Perseverance Level 9.
Perseverance Level 9/10 Current proficiency points: 899/900
I was barred by a bottleneck. That last proficiency point eluded me. Most of my progress over the last couple of years came from learning to read and adopting a simple exercise regime. It was nothing fancy, just the occasional jog when I was given free rein of the yard and some stretches I vaguely remembered from my brief jaunts into yoga and general gym culture. Tina taught me my letters and numbers with a stick and a patch of dirt, not that I needed much help for the latter. It wasn¡¯t the fanciest classroom, but it got the job done. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Those lessons concluded with Tina coaching me in calling up the System screen and explaining what I had already inferred regarding proficiency points and leveling up my Skills. The problem was that my existing strategies for farming proficiency points in a low leveled Skill, which ultimately amounted to repetition, wouldn¡¯t be enough to push it over the edge. I needed guidance, so I asked Tulos. He almost choked on his drink when I mentioned that I felt Perseverance was about to advance. According to him, Advancement would require something more. A deed. A feat. An innovation. Any of them would suffice, what mattered was that my Skill was forced beyond its already stretched limits in the process. Neither Tina nor Tulos knew of ¡®common Advancement strategies¡¯ - which were apparently a thing - for my Core Skill. They cautioned against trying to force the issue unless I was absolutely certain I knew how I wanted to define the progression of my Skill. They were annoyingly cagey as to what they meant by that. Why would they want to delay or deny me? Maybe they worried it would make it even harder for me to fly under the radar. Perhaps there was something ephemeral about the first Advancement, a potency that would be blunted if I knew exactly what to expect. Or it could have been one of a bajillion other reasons. Regardless, they were adamant in their refusal to go into explicit detail. The annoying part was, if they were trying to delay me, it was working. I didn¡¯t want to risk accidently stunting my future System growth by rushing, so I stalled. I began contemplating my understanding of Perseverance and making a list of ways I might be able to push it to level 10. That list was topped by a possibility inspired by my first use of the Skill: pushing through exhaustion. I started making plans. It wouldn¡¯t be fun, but if no better opportunities presented themselves I¡¯d deny myself sleep for as long as possible and see if that did the trick. Suffice to say, another opportunity eventually did present itself. I just wish it hadn¡¯t. *** ¡°Will! You died! I used my Skill to explode you.¡± Jusep crowed his apparent victory at me as we played in the fields around my house. We¡¯d been told stories about heroic figures who could conjure balls of fire and other fantastical feats of magic. It was never clear how those feats were connected to The System, or if they were at all, but the concept had begun to bleed into our games of make believe. ¡°Okay, Jusep,¡± I replied placatingly and sat down on the ground to represent my imaginary death. I heard Bella giggle before she pointed an accusatory finger at me. ¡°No, silly! You got exploded! You have to die like you got exploded!¡± She took the pause in the game to brush a stray lock of dirty blonde hair out of her face, the usual culprit. I rolled my eyes but capitulated, making a dramatic showing of clutching at my everything and miming explosions as I crumpled to the ground. Bella gave an approving laugh and resumed her epic duel with Jusep. Now that we had the freedom to play without constant adult supervision I couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of responsibility for those two. Telling myself I was like their pint-sized babysitter helped me play along with their antics without feeling too ridiculous. Tulos was working on something in his shed and Tina was in the kennel on the other side of the property. I was initially surprised that they let us play around without constant supervision, but it was the same at Bella and Jusep¡¯s houses. I quickly realized it was my old life sensibilities that made the situation seem odd, but even those were recent historically speaking. My dad¡¯s generation would be told to go play outside or ride their bikes around the neighborhood unsupervised so long as they were home before dinner. ¡°I¡¯m bored now,¡± Jusep declared after a brief exchange with Bella in which they were yelling over each other about why their imaginary Skills made them the winner. He dropped the stick he¡¯d been wielding as a pretend sword and started looking around for his next whim. As the - biologically - oldest he often insisted on taking charge of our games and activities. Despite my initial reluctance to be bossed around by a kid, I eventually decided to just go along with it and avoid conflict as much as possible. Since learning about Tulos¡¯ situation I didn¡¯t want to drag our parents into unnecessary spats or disputes. I only ever spoke up when he consistently shut down Bella¡¯s ideas to make sure she also got a turn playing games she enjoyed. ¡°How about we all go inside and relax?¡± That suggestion had been accepted a grand total of zero times, but I still had to ask. Given Jusep¡¯s Core Skill I was disappointed he didn¡¯t enjoy showing it off more. Unfortunately not even The System can interfere with a child¡¯s desire to play. Over the years I¡¯d managed to weasel Jusep and Bella¡¯s Core Skills out of them. Jusep¡¯s was Cooking [Stews], a Professional Core, labeled as such because it positioned him to excel in a profession. The Skill gave Jusep an instinctive understanding of ingredients, flavor, cooking times - basically everything - but only when it came to stews. It was impressive for an eight-year-old and I could hardly imagine what a high level cooking Skill might be able to accomplish. I was excited to find out. It was also interesting to gain some insight into the limits of a specialized Skill. Jusep struggled to draw connections between the ingredients he used and how they might apply to non-stew dishes since he¡¯d gotten used to feeling his way through the cooking process. Age, practice, and experience would probably bridge the gap over time, but Jusep had different priorities most days. Bella¡¯s Core Skill worried me and I was glad I found out about it before she was old enough to develop too much cunning. From what I could gather, Observation [Social, Truth] basically helped Bella identify and interpret a person¡¯s social tells. Obviously, the Skill didn¡¯t turn her into a human lie detector at such a low level, but she had a knack for winning the ¡®guess which hand the rock is in¡¯ game. She also wouldn¡¯t be low-leveled forever. I started carefully policing what I told her and knew I would have to eventually try and limit our time together. I had some big secrets. It was funny to watch her consistently call out Jusep¡¯s bullshit though. They were under the impression my Core Skill was Trapping [Small Game], the same Skill Tina told Zetta I had all those years ago. The idea was people wouldn¡¯t expect me to start properly utilizing the Skill without an apprenticeship of sorts when I was old enough to responsibly explore the edges of the forest. Tina had even begun secretly training one of the new litter of puppies, a process I was closely involved with, to serve as a hunting dog. The plan was for Snare to make my performance appear Skill-Enhanced¡­ for a time at least. ¡°No. I want to explore the forest today.¡± I frowned to make my displeasure at the suggestion known. We had one rule and it was not to wander into the forest. Rather, I should say The Forest. Note the capitalization. Turns out whatever continent I was on was dominated by a central forest the size of a massive country. Animals as I knew them lived on the outskirts but deeper in is where things got weird. Remember my odd rhino-toad plushie? They¡¯re called swonts and they live in the First Ring. Elbura bordered a sort of ¡®forest peninsula¡¯ that was effectively all outskirts when considered on the scale of the greater whole. It was a safe, backwater part of the world. That didn¡¯t mean that it was free of predators, though. Tina trained livestock guardians for a reason. ¡°No, Jusep. We are not going to go into the forest.¡± What was it about children that made them want to do the one thing they were told not to? ¡°Yes, we are.¡± Jusep¡¯s eyes narrowed. Apparently he wasn¡¯t in the mood to be denied that day and was about to make it my problem. Why does it always have to be a whole thing with this kid? Chapter 17 ¡°To be a Slayer is to put your life on the line for the betterment of humanity. That¡¯s what they say, at least. I was never a fan of that crap. My crew and I do everything we can to make sure we are NOT putting our lives on the line. We plan. We specialize. We all get to go home with most of our fingers. And you can quote that!¡± ~Unknown ¡°It is not safe in the forest, Jusep,¡± I patiently explained to the petulant eight-year-old who had, until a minute ago, been in a less difficult mood. The child in question didn¡¯t even dignify me with an answer and just started marching towards the treeline. I jogged to cut him off and block his path. He scowled when I stood in front of him. ¡°I am the oldest and I say it is safe, so you two have to follow me.¡± He briefly turned back to include Bella in his command. This wasn¡¯t the first time Jusep and I had clashed, even though I usually relented. She always looked uncomfortable when it happened, and I saw the good mood drain out of her as she shifted her gaze between us. Jusep continued walking and shouldered past my attempts to bar his way with my presence. Annoyingly, he was bigger than me by virtue of his age, so I wasn¡¯t able to physically restrain the idiot. He wasn¡¯t that much bigger than me, though, and I was notably taller than Bella. Obviously I wouldn¡¯t know until later in life, but I often wondered if I might end up having to duck my way through conventional doorways like Tulos often did. Bella began mutely following Jusep and they grew closer to the treeline with every step. I badgered after them and tried - and failed - to sway Jusep to a different course of action. Bribery didn¡¯t work. Flattery didn¡¯t work either. I offered to let him choose our games for a month. No luck. Why, oh why, must children have the capacity to be so stubborn? I had to whip out the big guns when he stepped under the canopy. ¡°Jusep, if you go into the forest, I am going to tell on you.¡± He paused mid-step, reaching a momentarily eerie stillness. Bella looked at me, eyes wide. For a moment, it was quiet enough to clearly hear birdsong and the rustle of wind in the green, springtime grass. When Jusep turned back to me, rage was written on his chubby-cheeked face. ¡°Do not tell! You better not tell!¡± He stomped right up to me and stared down at me in an effort to coerce me into submission. It was one of Jusep¡¯s ¡®rules¡¯ that we don¡¯t snitch on each other. Evidently, he took it more seriously than I realized. Not that I cared given the circumstances, so I squared my shoulders and didn¡¯t back down. ¡°I will! I will tell my mom and dad, and they will tell your mom and dad and you will get in trouble.¡± I gestured behind me, towards the house. My tone softened. ¡°So we should go back, okay?¡± I saw a flash of fear cross Jusep¡¯s face. For a blissful second, I thought he might have seen sense. That¡¯s when he snarled and shoved me backwards. I hadn¡¯t been expecting the blow and fell, leaving Jusep looming overhead. ¡°My dad said your dad is a coward and that means you are too!¡± Jusep snapped at me and I saw his hands ball into fists. ¡°I am not scared though. I am tough!¡± Even though I was stunned by the sudden aggression, I still noticed that Jusep was parroting some bullshit spewed at him by his father. Poor kid has some issues.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Don¡¯t fight! Please!¡± Bella called out to us. There were tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. Jusep frantically looked between us as I pulled myself to my feet. He reminded me of a rodent backed into a corner. His eyes were wide and his breathing came in rapid bursts. I watched him get overwhelmed by complicated emotions in real time. With an irritated grunt, he spun on his heel and ran into the forest. Fuck Fuck Fuck. Jusep getting lost in the woods was a recipe for disaster. I lost precious seconds panicking as I tried to decide on a course of action. The crunch of a twig underfoot brought me to my senses. Bella was moving to follow after the wayward problem child, probably to make sure he was okay. Her intentions may have been good, but I couldn¡¯t be responsible for getting her lost too. I came to a decision. ¡°Bella,¡± I snapped, adopting a tone that I hoped was authoritative. She froze. I closed the distance between us and grabbed her shoulders to make sure she was facing me. She looked frightened. I didn¡¯t blame her. ¡°Bella, I need you to run to Tina as fast as you can and tell her what happened. Can you do that?¡± She didn¡¯t immediately answer. Instead, she looked down at the ground as I felt her tense in my grip. I gave her a shake to try and snap her out of whatever daze she was in. ¡°Bella, can you do that?!¡± She was still silent. I began to worry. Every second that passed meant Jusep was getting further away, fueled by his emotional outburst. With a herculean effort, I yanked the panic out of my voice and spoke reassuringly. ¡°Bella, I promise you will not get in trouble. Jusep needs our help and I think this is the best way you can help him. Please?¡± Slowly, she looked up at me. I saw something in her turquoise eyes adopt an unfamiliar intensity as she studied my expression. Finally, she nodded and started wordlessly running back across the field. Okay. Good. That¡¯s one of them safe. I took off after Jusep, confident that Trunkle would be able to track me down in a pinch. Lots of stuff in the house had my scent on it. I just wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d be able to do the same for Jusep and figured my best bet was to catch up to him so we could be found together. I looked out for any sign of his passage. There probably were tracks or marks, but I wasn¡¯t even remotely close to being a woodsman so my unpracticed eyes failed to spot anything helpful. ¡°JUSEP!¡± I called out in my childish soprano with enough force to almost make it crack. No response. I scooped up a pointy looking rock and began slashing through the bark of the occasional tree trunk. It wasn¡¯t breadcrumbs, but it was something. After a few minutes the foliage thinned and I broke into a clearing surrounded on all sides by trees. It sloped down slightly from my position which gave me enough of a vantage to see Jusep on the other side. ¡°JUSEP! WAIT!¡± I cupped my hands around my mouth to help the sound carry. Jusep hesitated and I started sprinting to try and cross the distance as he turned towards the source of the noise. Hopefully he¡¯d calmed down enough to realize he¡¯d done something stupid. When Jusep saw it was me he frowned and started stomping deeper into the forest. Well, so much for that. At least he¡¯s not running again. I moved quickly. Before long, I had to duck beneath a low-hanging branch as I crossed back into the shadows cast by the canopy. My quarry was idly meandering between the pine trees, no longer in any rush to put distance between us. The burning in my lungs was thankful for the momentary break from exertion, ¡°Jusep. Wait. Please.¡± I got a word out between each intake of breath and walked with my hands resting on my lower back. Jusep finally stopped and turned back to face me. Now that I was closer, I could see that he¡¯d been crying. A blob of snot had congealed around one of his nostrils. Gross. ¡°Come on, Jusep. We can go home.¡± I carefully reached a hand out, offering for him to come and take it. I was annoyed with the brat, but now wasn¡¯t the time for scolding. That would come later. Defiance briefly burned on his face but he eventually nodded in reluctant acceptance. Poor kid was scared and emotional. I probably could- no, I definitely could have handled our confrontation better and saved myself the trouble. Hopefully Bella told Tina about the situation and I could take a break from being the responsible one. Regardless, I was eager to get back to the house. Something about the forest gave me the creeps. Even the birds had stopped chirping¡­ The birds have stopped chirping. Isn¡¯t that usually a sign that- There was a blur of movement and a dark red shape leapt from the treeline. Jusep, who had been trudging back towards me, didn¡¯t even see it coming. It slammed into him from behind and pinned him to the ground. That¡¯s when the screaming started. Chapter 18 ¡°Be wary of the River Man, whose clothes stand dry, whose hair hangs wet. Be wary of the River Man, whose visage you must not forget. Be wary of the River Man, whose song will dampen heart and mind. Be wary of the River Man, whose victims are always hard to find¡­¡± ~Unknown In the stories, time moves at a snail¡¯s pace to accommodate fast paced action. There is a surge of adrenaline or something that lets the protagonist analyze the situation and devise a path to victory within the moments between a second. Reality was not as generous. It all happened so fast. One moment Jusep was awkwardly walking towards me, ready to reconcile. The next¡­ I had never heard anyone scream like that before. It was desperate terror, raw and primal, the kind that cannot be captured by actors on a screen regardless of their accolades. It ripped its way from a child¡¯s throat as a mass of dark red fur obscured my view of whatever horrors it was inflicting. And I. Just. Watched. I was frozen. I silently screamed at my body, begging it to do something. Jusep¡¯s shrieks gripped me in bonds unbreakable. Each second felt like it stretched for an eternity, and I finally realized my misconception of time dilation in a crisis. The seconds stretched, but my mind was not free to act or behave. It was a prison, trapping me in the moment without my consent to suffer it a million times slower and a million times over. Move! Move! Move! My impotent pleas were similarly doomed to echo uselessly through my mind. Move! Move! MOVE! Heat. Fire. It rushed from my navel like a geyser. It flooded every inch of my body. It didn¡¯t erase the fear. It didn¡¯t undo the sudden tragedy. It only broke their hold over me. I felt that I could act despite them, their presence just one more barrier I needed to overcome. I knew, instinctively, that this was Perseverance. Never had I felt such a sheer quantity of energy come from the Skill. I had one chance. I had to move. So, I ran. I want to say that I took a moment to take stock of the situation. That would be a lie. If I argued that whatever creature was mauling Jusep was easily ten times my size, you might forgive my cowardice. You might even agree that I made a sensible choice. Even if I bravely charged into the fray armed with a rock and good intentions, chances were all I¡¯d accomplish was pissing the thing off. Instead, I ran because I was scared. I didn¡¯t want to die. Not again. I broke back into the clearing. Tears streamed from my eyes. My heart thundered its inner ear percussion. I didn¡¯t hear screams anymore. My vision narrowed to a point. My panicked mind replayed the moment that thing attacked. It was so fast. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. I can¡¯t outrun that thing. My only chance to get away hitches on Jusep keeping it busy long enough for me to- I looked back. I can¡¯t say why. Guilt, probably. I shouldn¡¯t have looked. I should have kept running. The creature that ambushed Jusep was approaching the edge of the foliage. It padded slowly, as if hesitating to leave the safety of the canopy. That hesitation allowed me to separate some details from the mass of monster. It looked like someone had crossed a stoat with a panther. Long body, bushy tail, massive claws, the whole, terrifying package. I saw it. It saw me. Predatory instinct took over. It blurred into motion. I turned away from it to make one last desperate dash. I knew it was futile, that I was only buying myself an extra second or two of life, if that. I need to fight. Another surge of heat washed through me. It was enough to help me gather my courage. I turned to face my death head on. I still had the rock in my hand. It was stained with blood. My blood. I¡¯d squeezed it so tightly as I ran that it sliced my palm. Strangely, I felt no pain. It was a flimsy weapon. It was all I had. It would have to do. The beast leapt from far further back than I thought it would. Its body seemed to coil in the air, like a deadly spring. It made a sound that I can only describe as snarling-chittering. Claws extended. I braced myself. Idly, I wondered if I would return to The Nothing when I died again. From overhead, a silver streak collided with the creature in mid air, interrupting its pounce and sending it to the ground. The newcomer planted themselves firmly between me and the stoat-panther. It scrambled to its feet and hissed. My breath caught in my throat. A well of emotion I thought lost to me returned in full force. Hope. Vigil had arrived. *** The creature began to stalk around me, circling like a shark, searching for an opening. Vigil denied it. He growled, low and rumbling. There was a weight to it, a promise of unspeakable savagery if it was ignored. Hackles were raised. His metallic fur looked like thousands of needles, raised and deadly. Tense seconds passed as the standoff continued. It was the stoat-panther that broke it. It sprang into motion with the same sudden intensity as its initial ambush. Like a constrictor, it tried to coil around Vigil. I heard a grinding sound over the snarls and yips, like someone aggressively scratching their ceramic plate with a knife and fork. I had trouble keeping up with their movements. It was too frantic to take in every detail. Growls met snarls met tooth met claw. It all happened within seconds, but Vigil was able to land a decisive strike. His teeth sunk into the creature¡¯s shoulder, metallic canines suffering no resistance as they punctured flesh. Vigil thrashed his head to dislodge the creature and moved to deliver a killing blow. That¡¯s when the second one appeared. It exploded into the clearing. Blood stained its muzzle. It was bigger than the one Vigil was already fighting, matching the massive dog pound for pound. As it ran its fur started to release wisps of smoke. With a flash, the panther-stoat ignited. Flames engulfed its body and it gained a sudden burst of speed. A smoking trail followed its wake, the spring grass thankfully damp enough to avoid total combustion. Vigil was unprepared for the ambush. The creature leapt. Its claws glowed bright orange as they sunk into his metallic flank. Vigil yelped in pain. I smelled burning flesh. ¡°Vigil!¡± I called out. I couldn¡¯t help it. It hurt to see him get hurt. He was only in that situation to protect me. Vigil¡¯s yelp turned into a snarl. I saw his fur suddenly braid into spines like a porcupine¡¯s and go rigid. The stoat-panther yowled and was forced to disengage. The smaller of the pair couldn¡¯t put weight on one of their front legs, but Vigil was also favoring his uninjured side. Vigil still made sure to place himself between me and the creatures. I was terrified. I was useless. Vigil was hurt and probably in agonizing pain. Still, he protected me. I wanted to help. I needed to. I desperately racked my brain. ¡°Go on! Get out of here! Just go!¡± I yelled at the two predators. I waved my arms to try and seem intimidating. I didn¡¯t care if they got away or not. I just didn¡¯t want Vigil to get hurt anymore because of me. I didn¡¯t want anyone else to get hurt because of me. ¡°You heard me! Go! Just Go!¡± My voice was hoarse. The stoat-panthers froze. Did it work? Did they somehow understand? Would they- A pair of hands scooped me up into a tight embrace that I recognized immediately. Mom! Tina had somehow caught up to us. I began crying into her chest, completely overwhelmed by emotional whiplash. It might have been my underdeveloped brain running haywire, but some part of me was certain that, with her there, everything would be okay. ¡°It is okay, my Will,¡± she soothed. I felt more than saw her shift her gaze to the creatures, still eerily still in her presence. When she spoke, it was with a cold anger I didn¡¯t know she was capable of. ¡°Vigil¡­ Kill.¡± Chapter 19 ¡°Never underestimate a Skill. It is true not all Skills are made equal, but I guarantee you do not fully comprehend what that actually means. Few do.¡± ~Unknown There was a weight to Tina¡¯s command, a pressure. If it weren¡¯t for the flood of adrenaline pushing my senses into overdrive, I might not have picked up on it. It was the same thing I felt when Vigil growled, only amplified. Savagery wasn¡¯t just promised, it was a foregone conclusion. I pushed back from Tina¡¯s chest and gasped at what I saw. Gone were her brunette locks, replaced instead by coils of elegant wire, gleaming dangerously as they caught the light. Just like Vigil¡¯s¡­ It wasn¡¯t just the hair. Her eyes were quicksilver and her gaze was steel, locked on the creatures like a dagger poised to strike. Dozens of dogs bayed in the distance behind her, signaling their imminent approach. I paid them no mind. They were overshadowed by the sounds that suddenly erupted behind me. The ferocity demanded my attention and I obliged. Everything had changed. I hadn¡¯t seen how it happened; my back was turned. I only saw the outcome. Vigil¡¯s tail had curved over his back like a scorpion¡¯s and grown to an impossible length. It had crossed the distance to the injured stoat-panther and cleanly impaled its chest. I turned just in time to witness dozens of metallic spikes, each as wide as my arm, erupt out of the creature in all directions. Blood and gore adorned the spikes as if a macabre Christmas tree had taken root. Vigil¡¯s tail snapped back to its regular length like a rubber band, trailing a spray of crimson to stain the land. Vigil growled at the remaining predator. Tina growled in sync with him, and I knew it was a predator no more. The riddled corpse crumpled to the ground. Whatever gripped the aflame stoat-panther into stunned immobility shattered with the death of its partner. It answered Vigil and Tina¡¯s challenge with an aggressive chitter that burned my ears. Its fiery aura burned with renewed intensity, frantically dancing in sync with the discordant noise. Scorching heat rolled from the creature in cascading waves. It exploded into motion. It- Vigil blurred, moving faster than I could track with my eyes. He- something snatched the stoat-panther out of mid-air. Huge, metallic fingers curled around the creature¡¯s body and slammed it into the ground. I heard a crunch accompany the impact. From the center of Vigil¡¯s back his fur had lengthened and braided together to form a giant, silver, arm. Tina was holding her own arm forward, hand clenched into a mirror of the metallic fist still pinning the beast. ¡°Vigil! KILL!¡± The words came out of Tina as a snarl. Now wounded, the stoat-panther thrashed against its bonds to no avail. The metal fist began to glow a dull red from the intense heat but still held firm. Vigil fell upon his grounded foe and mangled its exposed neck, iron fangs ripping through the last shreds of its resistance. The creature''s fire sputtered out as its lifeblood sizzled into the earth. It spasmed once more then lay still. Silence. *** Amy crested the hill separating our property from the broader farmlands surrounding Elbura. I had been watching the spot intently, knowing that her arrival would signal disaster. Lianda arrived for pickup first. When she heard what happened, she was quick to abscond with Bella and rush back to town. In hindsight, I should have gone with them. Instead, I was waiting outside the house. Alone. Tina was¡­ recovering. Whatever she did to help Vigil fight off those creatures had some kind of side effect. Tulos was still in the house. Amy¡¯s footfalls tore up the distance at an impressive rate. It wasn¡¯t as fast as I¡¯d seen Tina move, though. It wasn¡¯t even a close comparison. She was still easily outpacing most of the Olympic athletes I¡¯d been familiar with, though. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Amy must have crossed paths with Bella and Lianda on the way¡­ the thought limply crossed my mind. I was still reeling from the events of the day. They¡¯d been replaying in my head for hours. It was partly to help come to sense with what happened. It was also partly to keep my mind off the new System Window.
Perseverance Level 9/10 Current proficiency points: 900/900 You have gained sufficient recognized proficiency to advance to Perseverance Level 10.
Perseverance has gained sufficient recognized proficiency for Advancement. Please proceed to Skill Augmentation selection for Perseverance. ¡­ All Skills have gained sufficient recognized proficiency for Advancement. Commence Advancement?
Once my adrenaline calmed down it was like I felt a tugging in the back of my mind. When I turned my attention to it, the notification would spring back into existence. Evidently, my ordeal in the forest was enough to finally push Perseverance over the edge. It was a hollow consolation. I was tempted to start the process but ultimately hesitated. Unlike with my Core Skill selection, there wasn¡¯t a timer forcing my hand. The logical part of my mind - the part trying to desperately hold me, it, and everything together - insisted that rushing into my first Advancement while recovering from a traumatic experience might not be the wisest course of action. For the time being, I agreed. I sunk back into memory. *** Once the threat of the creatures had been eliminated, Tina rushed me back to the house. She was fast. Too fast. Inhumanly fast. Thankfully, she made sure to cradle my head so the whiplash didn¡¯t snap my neck. The air whooshed around me. I was reminded of the feeling of riding on a motorcycle. I called out to her to turn back, to check on Jusep, but she either didn¡¯t hear my pleas over the sound of her motion or chose to ignore them. We slowed as the house came into view. Tulos was waiting for us. He was holding his axe in a white-knuckle grip, his face set in grim determination. Vigil kept pace with us despite his injury, though I noticed he still favored his good side. Tulos took in Tina¡¯s condition and his already worried expression deepened. I spied Bella standing behind him, seeking comfort from a familiar adult. She¡¯d reached up to grab a fistful of his shirt like it was a lifeline. ¡°My love,¡± Tulos said sternly, addressing his wife and slowly stepping towards her, ¡°I need you to put Will down and-¡± ¡°No!¡± Tina snarled back and held me closer. ¡°I have to keep him safe!¡± Vigil growled at Tulos to punctuate her point. I got the impression they¡¯d both bared their teeth. I heard Bella whimper at the unexpected aggression coming from a woman she treated like an aunt. Tina¡¯s hair still flashed metallic silver in my peripherals and I felt her sharpened fingernails dig into me painfully. ¡°Tina! Focus! Who are you?¡± Tulos barked the command at her. His cadence sounded familiar and it struck me almost immediately; he was emulating the tone Tina took with the dogs when they were misbehaving. What the fuck is going on¡­ ¡°Dad! Jusep is still out there! He¡¯s hurt, and-¡± I tried interjecting but Tulos held up a hand to forestall me, not taking his eyes off of his wife. I wanted to scream. Why did no one seem to care about Jusep? Tulos repeated the question to Tina twice more, like it was a mantra. Suddenly, Tina set me down so roughly it bordered on a throw and disappeared back into the treeline, moving too rapidly for me to properly track with my eyes. Vigil was quick to follow. I saw Tulos exhale in relief before he finally turned to me. ¡°Your mom will be fine. She just needs time now,¡± Tulos explained as if it were even remotely close to sufficient. ¡°Dad. Listen to me. Jusep was attacked by something.¡± I let irritation flavor my tone, frustrated that my prepubescent vocal cords tainted everything I said with a childish lilt despite the severity I wished to impart. Bella, no longer distracted by Tina¡¯s presence, heard my words and started to cry. Fuck. Forgot she was here for a second. Wait. No. Possibly dead kid should be more important than upsetting her, right? Fuck me, I don¡¯t know. It was a rapid bombardment of thoughts. Tulos quickly closed the distance between us and took a knee, pulling me into a hug that I felt was more for himself than for me. ¡°I am so glad you are safe,¡± he intoned softly but fiercely. I felt his voice rumble through me. ¡°If Jusep can be saved, he will be.¡± Tulos pulled away from the embrace, pinning me in place with his expression. ¡°I have something I need to ask you, Will. It is not a fair thing to ask, but I have to anyway.¡± He paused and I nodded for him to continue. ¡°I need you to watch over Bella. I might have to step away and your mother is¡­ she is busy.¡± I ignored the obvious half-truth and let him finish. ¡°Can you do that, Will?¡± I wanted to deny him. Couldn¡¯t he see that everything had happened because I tried to watch over them and be responsible? I felt like an imposter, probably because I was. I couldn¡¯t say that though. That wouldn¡¯t have been helpful at all. To anyone. Instead I just nodded again and Tulos gave my shoulder a squeeze. Tulos looked like he was about to say something else. Instead, he paused. His eyes widened as he spotted something over my shoulder and shot to his feet, moving to intercept. Fear gripped me as imagined threats loomed, ready to eviscerate Tulos to get to me. My breath caught and I spun to see what was coming. It was Jusep. Chapter 20 Chapter 20 ¡°¡®Energy¡¯, ¡®chi¡¯, ¡®magic-power¡¯, or the more commonly accepted ¡®mana¡¯. However one may refer to it - and my list was by no means exhaustive - the mystical energy that permeates the world is a constant subject of research, philosophy, and experimentation. One of my favorite esoteric papers on the subject was written by Professor Len ¡®The Blob¡¯ Cornaccus. Professor Cornaccus theorized that additional body mass could be used to improve a body¡¯s mana capacity. Their work - published in an unfinished state - outlined the steps necessary to achieve a Skill that could convert excess body fat into mana. The astute of you may notice that what they claim the Skill could do is not quite the same as increasing one¡¯s mana capacity. It is an interesting achievement all the same. Professor Cornaccus¡¯ bulging appearance in the weeks before their unexpected death led to the unfortunate moniker. To my knowledge, none have since attempted to take over the research or incorporate his Skill.¡± ~Unknown I felt the blood drain from my face. Jusep¡¯s ruined body was suspended horizontally, like he¡¯d been lifted by invisible marionette strings. Silently, he levitated in our direction. His clothing was in tatters and stained with blood. A long cut along his face, scabbed and misshapen, puckered in a way that suggested scarring was inevitable. Wait¡­ what? How? That wound should have still been raw. Fresh. Tulos partially obscured my vision of Jusep to pluck him from the air. The motion spun Jusep around enough that his other wounds became visible, all partially sealed. Even the irregular stumps where his right arm and leg used to be were- Holy fuck¡­ he¡­ Tulos said something as he rushed past me and into the house, but I didn¡¯t hear it. Was Jusep breathing? That could have been me. I almost didn¡¯t notice as Vix slowly trudged out of the forest, her tongue lolling as she drew in deep, shaking breaths. For a moment, it looked as if her tails had multiplied and cascaded like a peacock¡¯s. When I blinked she was back to her usual two. I felt a brief stab of pressure between my eyes that faded just as quickly as it appeared. ¡°Did you help Jusep, girl?¡± I inquired weakly, still reeling from¡­ everything. I doubt she heard me. Bella¡¯s bawling had only intensified after- Oh yeah¡­ Bella¡¯s here. The realization that I should comfort her washed over me like rain. I felt so detached from everything, even as my own feelings ravaged me. ¡°Good girl,¡± I said robotically as Vix slowly padded past. I started reaching out to pat her out of habit but caught myself halfway. She laid down between us and continued to pant. I watched mutely as her chest rose and fell in rapid sequence. I could think of no other explanation for what happened, though. After what I¡¯d seen Vigil do, I was ready to accept Vix having magic of her own. It was like she¡¯d given Jusep magical triage. The thought conjured the pristine image of Jusep¡¯s injuries to mind. I tried not to dwell on it. I failed. In some ways, it was ironic. I¡¯d been worrying about the memories of my old life fading away for years. Now I just wished I could forget one of the new ones. *** The afternoon Sun reminded me that hours had passed since then. I liked to think I was growing numb to the memories that insisted on replaying in my head. That didn¡¯t make it true, but it was a comforting thought. While the adults in my life managed the crisis, I was left to wait. It was awful. Once, before I was Will, my friends and I came across a car accident while driving down a county road. One of the cars had flipped and we heard a woman screaming. No one had died, but two of the passengers needed urgent medical attention. Calling an ambulance was the easy part, it was the waiting that eroded my spirits. I knew nothing I could do would help those people. I felt powerless. I felt insignificant. I felt useless. Even as my memories of the experience dulled with age, memories of the feeling remained sharp as ever. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. It¡¯s why I was able to recognize it so quickly. I hadn¡¯t even been able to comfort Bella. She stopped crying eventually, but everything I could think of saying just rang hollow in my head. I could have lied. I probably should have. Some nonsense about everything being okay might have worked. Amy was getting closer. What would her reaction be when she saw how I failed to look after her son? Righteous fury sparked within me. Why in the flying fuck had we been left unsupervised to begin with? If literal monstrous predators were just stalking around, how could anyone have concluded giving us free rein was a good idea? It wasn¡¯t the first time I lashed out at the situation. Something wasn¡¯t adding up and it was gnawing at me. The fire of my anger sputtered out. I couldn''t feed it. I watched numbly as Amy crossed the final piece of distance between us. She clutched her skirt firmly around her hips to move unobstructed, yet even as her run slowed to a walk her hands remained locked in place. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes were frantic. Amy didn¡¯t acknowledge my presence. She slowed just enough to avoid getting caught up in the garden and navigate the steps to our door. To her, I was invisible. Hours of anxiety amounted to nothing and the sheer gravity of my irrationality finally broke through the fog that hung over my mind. Of course she wouldn¡¯t pay me any mind! If she¡¯d heard what happened, I could hardly imagine what she must have been thinking. What hypothetical scenarios had she tortured herself with as she ran? She entered our home and the tangled ball of unease in my gut went taut, caught up on the tension. For a moment, the world hung in fragile tranquility, only to be shattered by the wails of a tormented mother. It was palpable. Infectious. It struck something inside of me that was decidedly human and I could not help but empathize with the woman. Everything can change in an instant. I understood that more than most. ¡°Will.¡± The sadness emanating from our house almost drowned out Tina¡¯s voice. There was a sharpness to it that put me on edge. When I turned, her and Vigil were right behind me. I hadn¡¯t heard them approach. Tina looked conflicted, like she was struggling with something. I noticed her hair was back to normal, but¡­ It¡¯s the eyes. They¡¯re still silver. ¡°You should not have to hear this, Will. Come with me.¡± She motioned towards the kennel and started walking. Vigil fell into step beside her. I considered disobeying. I felt responsible for what happened, so- ¡°Will. Now.¡± She didn¡¯t look back, but I saw her stride go rigid. Oh¡­ I really am an idiot. It¡¯s not always about me. ¡°Coming, mom.¡± My voice came out with a slight rasp. When was the last time I took a drink of water? I decided I didn¡¯t care. *** Most of the dogs weren¡¯t in the kennel. Apart from the most recent litter, it was just Vigil and Vix. ¡°Where are the others?¡± I asked in an effort to break the silence. I didn¡¯t know what was happening to Tina, but Tulos¡¯ earlier words came to mind. Talking to her son might help ground her, or something. Any prospect, even a slim one, of being able to do something positive amongst the turmoil felt like a lifeline in a storm. It took Tina almost a full minute to respond. I felt the bloodied bandage on my hand - a rush job by Lianda - start to itch and had to resist the urge to scratch at it. Vigil was resting his head in her lap so she could idly give him pats. It was something she¡¯d do while we unwound on lazy afternoons. Seeing it now, it looked meditative. ¡°They are roaming.¡± There was almost no inflection in her tone. ¡°If there are more fueha I do not want them to get too close without us knowing.¡± Given the context, I assumed fueha were the stoat-panthers. ¡°Is that safe?¡± I couldn¡¯t imagine a regular dog faring well if they got ambushed by one of the stoa- one of the fueha. ¡°No.¡± The answer was quick. Curt, even. She grimaced, like the answer tasted bitter. I almost protested. I¡¯d helped care for those dogs for years, albeit in the limited capacity afforded by my childish body. I¡¯d grown attached. The thought of any of them getting hurt, of putting them in danger, felt like a betrayal. This is what they are bred for. It was a sobering thought. They were livestock guardians in a world inhabited by monstrous predators. In the eyes of most, it was probably better for a dog to die if it meant saving human lives... or their livelihoods. I could see the logic, but that didn¡¯t mean I had to like it. Time and place. Time and place. I repeated the phrase a few times like a mantra. Voicing my displeasure in that moment wouldn¡¯t help anyone. I regretted the line of questioning and desperately wanted a change of subject. Anything. It was the final wave in the sea of shit that was my day, sufficient to erode the last of my restraint. Fuck it, I thought. ¡°Mom?¡± ¡°Yes, Will?¡± ¡°The System says I am ready for Advancement.¡± Chapter 21 Chapter 21 ¡°I don¡¯t suppose any of you saw where I put my jacket when I came in here? I swear, the System-cursed thing has a mind of its own and hides from me the second I take my eyes off it.¡± ~Unknown One might consider my decision to broach the topic of System Advancement with Tina an impulsive one. They¡¯d be right, of course. Jusep was either dead or dying, and neither Tina nor I were in the proper state of mind to address such an important milestone with the careful consideration it deserved. Life isn¡¯t always perfect, though. Sometimes it¡¯s messy and unplanned. Sometimes it¡¯s poor decisions stacked upon worse situations. Tina¡¯s eyes widened in surprise and whirled on me with newfound intensity. She studied my face intently, searching for deception or misunderstanding but finding nothing but sincerity. It was subtle, but something about Tina¡¯s demeanor shifted. The underlying tension in her shoulders loosened, then slumped; the slight curl of her lips - the one that made her look on the verge of snarling - flattened out, then thinned. Vigil roused and stepped away from her before settling next to Vix with an exhausted huff. Through it all, Tina didn¡¯t take her eyes off me. As one moment became the next, her gaze began to soften and a thin ring of green began to bleed into the silver. Of all the reactions I was expecting, this was not one of them. She looks¡­ sad. ¡°Mom?¡± An uncomfortable quiet stretched between us. I wanted to comfort her, but I didn¡¯t know what I could possibly say. Worried that I had somehow made things worse, I floundered. ¡°It is okay, mom. We can talk about this later. I should not have-¡± ¡°You are not like the other children, are you Will?¡± It was technically a question, but it sounded like a statement. Her tone was gentle, but it struck me like a cannonball. Oh¡­ oh fuck. Tina smoothly stood and took a measured step towards me. ¡°The other moms and I, we talk. You do not cry as much as Bella or Jusep.¡± She didn¡¯t even flinch at the mention of Jusep¡¯s name. I did. My breaths started coming sharp and shallow. Tina just took another step and continued unabated. ¡°You understand boundaries and rules. You learn so much faster than they do. You do not play the same way they do. You always look so¡­ bored.¡± She sounded¡­ wistful? Regretful? The scuff of Tina¡¯s boots on the dirt grated at my ears. She took another step. I wanted to conceal my distress, to play off her accusations as nonsense. It was too late for that, though. I¡¯d already shown my hand. I couldn¡¯t clamp down on my shock fast enough from the onset. To backtrack would only be more suspicious, not less. I¡¯d been found out. My performance had been flawed - of course it had. ¡°You try to look out for those two like an older brother, even though you are the youngest.¡± Every sentence was accompanied by another step towards me and another nail in my proverbial coffin. ¡°Now you are telling me that - at five years old - you have leveled up Perseverance enough to be ready for your first Advancement. And I know you are telling me the truth. I see it in your eyes, hear it in your heartbeat, and smell it in your words.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure if I should laugh or scream as Tina laid my failures in front of me, a signposted series of irregularities. I braced myself for the final accusation that I knew was coming. She finished crossing the distance between us and loomed over me. Tina knew the truth. She dropped to her knees and pulled me into a tight embrace. ¡­ what the- ¡°You try so hard, my Will. I worry your Skill has helped you grow up too fast.¡± My arms twitched at my sides as Tina tightened her embrace. It wasn¡¯t painful though, not like before. It was tender. Warm. Accepting. I hugged her back, letting the emotional floodgates open as Tina spoke softly into my ear. ¡°You may not be a normal boy, but you are my Will. Your father and I love you. You do not need to hide from us. You can be your true, wonderful self.¡± The emotional whiplash was too much. I sobbed. Again. My secret was safe, for now. Tina and Tulos accredited the odd behavior to my Core Skill. On paper, it was an ideal solution. Things are never that simple, though. I knew the secret of my origins would still weigh me down, but right then, I felt light as a feather. Maybe, just maybe¡­ I didn¡¯t let myself finish the thought. I wasn¡¯t ready for it. Life isn¡¯t always perfect. Sometimes it¡¯s messy and unplanned. Sometimes it¡¯s poor decisions stacked upon worse situations¡­ and sometimes that¡¯s okay. *** ¡°I was scared to talk to you about how your Skill might be affecting you.¡± Tina and I had shared a long embrace that we both needed more than either of us would admit. She already looked more animated, more like herself. ¡°When Vigil and I use our magic it-¡± she paused, humming and hawing as she considered how to word something. When she saw my attentive expression, she shrugged and continued. ¡°It clouds my inhibitions - that means it makes it easier for me to do things. It is why I was staying away from everyone while I¡­ while I calmed down.¡± Tina pursed her lips in a thoughtful expression. ¡°It made me brave enough to talk to you, even if it might not have been the best day for it.¡± Tina regarded me warmly as she spoke, I could see the last of the silver drain from her eyes in real time. Once again, those familiar shifting greens resumed their rightful place. ¡°I am sorry I waited so long.¡± Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°It is okay, mom¡­ I¡­ me too.¡± Naturally, when given permission to stop dumbing down my maturity and intelligence, I was unable to form a coherent sentence. It felt like my brain was still rebooting after the panicked meltdown it had earlier. That has happened a lot today¡­ Surely it can¡¯t be healthy. ¡°Now!¡± Tina clapped her hands together to reset the atmosphere. ¡°You said you had some questions about Advancement? I will try to talk to you like you are a big kid, but if I say anything you do not understand, let me know, okay?¡± Tina had repositioned us as we settled such that I was facing away from the house. She was indulging my curiosity on the topic of Advancement and avoiding mention of Jusep to distract me; it felt like her way of shielding a child from the world¡¯s harsher realities, at least for a time. I decided to let it happen. Status.
Perseverance has gained sufficient recognized proficiency for Advancement. Please proceed to Skill Augmentation selection for Perseverance. ¡­ All Skills have gained sufficient recognized proficiency for Advancement. Commence Advancement?
¡°Is The System going to rush me? Will I be able to take my time looking over my ¡®Skill Augmentation selection¡¯ or will-¡± I cut myself off. I¡¯d almost forgotten that, to my knowledge, no one else knew about the Core Skill selection timer. I still have to be careful with certain subjects. It was a sobering thought. Tina was quick to muster up an answer. She did a good job at hiding her concerns, but I could tell hearing me speak without my usual faux-immaturity rattled her. She rose back to her feet and started pacing as she responded, like a full-body fidget. ¡°You can take all the time you need,¡± she gave me an approving smile. ¡°In fact, many people delay their Advancement so that they can qualify for specific Augmentations if they have a ¡­ in mind.¡± Tina saw my confused expression at the unfamiliar word and elaborated. It was another example of a word that didn¡¯t have an exact translation. The closest touchstone I could think of was ¡®build¡¯ in the context of a video game character, but applied to real life. It wasn¡¯t an alien concept to me, but it was still jarring to realize that I now lived in a culture that discussed ¡®builds¡¯ with the kind of gravitas that one would use when planning their career or life prospects. ¡°You would normally learn more about this in lessons with the other children as you got older,¡± Tina concluded her brief lecture and allowed herself a half-amused smirk on my behalf. ¡°Most people do not achieve their first Advancement until they are teenagers.¡± I had the good sense to look bashful. Why was there a time limit for the Core Skill selection, then? It was frustrating not to have a full understanding of The System. I offhandedly considered that people probably used to feel the same way about other laws of reality, like gravity. Eventually, someone decided to try and figure it out and¡­ well, they didn¡¯t quite figure out all the details, but they started the process and inspired future generations to continue their work. Something, something, shoulders of big lads. ¡°Will, did that not make sense?¡± Tina asked gently and I realized I must have zoned out for a second. That hadn¡¯t been happening as much recently, largely thanks to Perseverance helping me stay on topic. Tina had sat back down opposite me. She wasn¡¯t sitting completely still, but going into lecture mode seemed to help her relax. ¡°It made sense,¡± I replied quickly. ¡°Would it be okay if I looked at my Skill Augmentation options?¡± The deeper mysteries of The System could wait. While I had Tina¡¯s attention, I decided it would be best to take advantage of it. Tina looked conflicted as she considered my request. ¡°Normally I would say we should do this as a family, but given the circumstances I can help you now, if you want.¡± She gave me a knowing look. ¡°The fact that you had the patience to ask and not simply start the process by yourself is not normal five-year-old behavior either.¡± ¡°Are there other kids like me? More mature than they should be, I mean.¡± It was another question I¡¯d been sitting on since Tina¡¯s revelation and decided I could wait a little longer before I delved into my Advancement to get an answer. ¡°Most children have a specialized Core Skill, like my Taming (Dog) Skill. It means that if they have a Skill that can improve their mind, it is usually only in a specific way. These children are often¡­ quirkier than their peers,¡± she blushed slightly, as if the words brought to mind an embarrassing anecdote. I didn¡¯t pry. ¡°Your Skill is not specialized, so we were unsure how it would affect you. Do you understand?¡± ¡°I understand.¡± I understood that my Core Skill had helped me disguise my origins in a way few others would have been able to replicate. I looked up at Tina, my new- my mother as she placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and gave it a faint squeeze. Who says you need a Skill to be lucky? ¡°Do you still want help with your Advancement, my Will?¡± ¡°Yes, please.¡± I told the System I wanted to proceed to Skill Augmentation selection for Perseverance. It obliged. Chapter 22 ¡°I have always found accounts of mass warfare to be wasteful. So many lives, so much potential, all lost in the wake of pointless posturing. True conflicts almost always come down to the few powerhouses on either side.¡± ~Unknown
Perseverance Level 10/10 Advancement Bonuses
  • Tier 1: Skill is more effective during periods of emotional turmoil.
Unlock Condition: Perseverance was used to overcome the negative effects of an acute stress response. Skill Augmentations (0/2) Please choose from the following Skill Augmentations. As Perseverance is a Core Skill, you may choose two Skill Augmentations.
  • Learning (Minor)
  • Physical Exertion (Minor)
  • Discomfort (Minor)
  • Distraction (Minor)
Tina waited patiently while I read over the first notification. I glanced up from the semi-transparent screen and quirked an inquisitive eyebrow. ¡°Advancement bonus?¡± Tina nodded like she was expecting the question. It was by no means the only one I had, but it seemed like as good a place to start as any. ¡°The System shapes our Skills based on our choices - Skill Augmentations - and our actions. So¡­¡± Tina trailed off and tilted her head in thought. ¡°It is hard to summarize all of this in a few sentences. Normally you would spend years getting ready for this moment.¡± She began rhythmically tapping her chin with her pointer finger. A slight frown crossed her lips. ¡°I think I understand,¡± I said cautiously. I¡¯d also noted that, unlike the offered Skill Augmentations, my Advancement Bonus didn¡¯t have a qualifier like ¡®minor¡¯ next to it. ¡°Are Advancement Bonuses stronger?¡± ¡°Yes¡­ but also no. It depends...¡± As Tina trailed off, an insect alighted on the tip of her nose, causing it to crinkle. Briefly, her hands curled into talons but she schooled the animalistic response and instead shooed it away with a directed huff of breath. ¡°They are more impactful, for better or worse. You might want your Skill to develop a certain way, but sometimes the gap between what we want and what we are capable of is too wide to cross.¡± I feel like we¡¯re straying into the realms of philosophy. It seemed like Tina¡¯s focus on the subject was making it easier for her to avoid overthinking. Her explanations weren¡¯t passing through the child-filter as much. Even though she said she¡¯d try to talk to me like I was a ¡®big kid¡¯, she clearly needed time to adapt. Even so, it was a lot to process. I had to resist the urge to massage the bridge of my nose. That would have been too adult, even with my new behavioral allowances. ¡°This is all very complicated,¡± I sulked good naturedly. It wasn¡¯t that I anticipated the borderline-cosmic force that was The System to be simple, that would have been optimistic at best. I just would have appreciated fewer variables. Tina giggled at my complaint, stirring Vigil and Vix who scrutinized her for interrupting their well-earned rest. There was something grounding about the sound. I¡¯d always felt that Tina¡¯s joy was infectious, and it warmed my heart to hear it. ¡°Exactly. Complicated. Remember that we can stop at any time.¡± Her smile slipped at that, but she powered through. ¡°You can delay your Advancement as much as you want.¡± She¡¯s realized it, too. We¡¯d started talking like I was going to actually go through the entire Advancement process today. ¡°I could delay¡­ but I will not. Advancement will make me stronger, like you and Vigil, right?¡± It was true I could spend years theorycrafting an ideal pathway to the power I needed to get home, but¡­ Today was a harsh reminder of my mortality¡­ and my weakness. I didn¡¯t even bother considering the possibility that I might get a third do-over at the whole ¡®life¡¯ thing, either. This was an opportunity to get a head start, it would be foolish to squander it. ¡°It will,¡± she said softly. ¡°Not straight away, but Advancement is the first step.¡± I saw a flash of anger cross her features and influence her tone. ¡°You should not have to-¡± ¡°Today was scary, mom.¡± I cut her off, but struggled to maintain eye contact. ¡°If you and Vigil did not get to me fast enough, I could have¡­¡± I forced myself to shut up and take a deep breath. It did little to ease my rising heart rate or the ice creeping up my spine. ¡°I want to be stronger. Safer.¡± I looked back towards Tina and caught the glint of tears gathering at the edges of her eyes. ¡°This should not have happened, not like this.¡± She was right, but it did happen. She started picking at a pebble lodged in the dirt, scratching up the surrounding earth with a fingernail. ¡°Will you still help me?¡± If I was going to do this, I wanted Tina¡¯s advice, even if I didn¡¯t have her blessing. What I needed was a crash course on Advancement. It didn¡¯t take long for her to harden her resolve and give me the nod. Class was in session. ***
Learning (Minor) The effects of Perseverance will be marginally more effective while endeavoring to learn something. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Physical Exertion (Minor) The effects of Perseverance will be marginally more effective during periods of physical exertion. Discomfort (Minor) The effects of Perseverance will be marginally more effective during periods of discomfort. Distraction (Minor) The effects of Perseverance will be marginally more effective when endeavoring to focus on a single task.
I¡¯d gone over the options with Tina after she initially prompted me to call up their descriptions. Given how comparatively mute The System was with most things, I hadn¡¯t even thought to try. Evidently, I¡¯d grown complacent after years of relative System stagnation. I silently scolded myself for the slip up. As we sunk deeper into the discussion, letting evening descend overhead, I was able to watch in real time as the final vestiges of Tina¡¯s magically-altered behavior faded away. It was the little things. She stopped baring her teeth when irritated by her inability to properly phrase a response, or flaring her nostrils to sniff at a passing breeze. It was a relief to gain further confirmation that her condition was, ultimately, temporary. Tina was impressed with the options arrayed before me but made it clear the list was not exhaustive. If I delayed Advancement and focused on applying Perseverance in different ways, then I might have been able to unlock others. Given the presence of the ¡®Discomfort (Minor)¡¯ Skill Augmentation, I suspected there would exist one for persevering through pain, not that I was in any rush to test that theory. I also, wisely, didn¡¯t share that prospect with Tina. Bestial magic or not, I suspected the suggestion I intentionally inflict pain on myself to improve my Skill would be met with harsh dismissal at best. She also confirmed that, as Perseverance continued to Advance, I would have opportunities to earn upgraded versions of the Skill Augmentations I chose. This led to a question that made my earlier complaints about System complexity seem premature in hindsight. I asked how the Skill Augmentations would interact with one another. Innocent enough question, right? Of course I¡¯d want to know how the ¡®Learning¡¯ and ¡®Physical Exertion¡¯ Augmentations might compound if the conditions for both were met. ¡­ That¡¯s when Tina told me about Synergy. Synergy was the term used to describe how Skills, Skill Augmentations, and basically everything bestowed by The System interacted with one another. What is a marginal boost plus a marginal boost multiplied by the presence of a synergistic Skill? I have no idea, but apparently it¡¯s noticeable enough that striving for Synergy is highly encouraged. ¡°Synergy is another one of those subjects I am supposed to spend a lot of time learning about, right?¡± I reached out to gently pat Fudge, who had come to sit beside me. Over the last few hours, most of the puppies still in the kennel had come to offer comfort at some point, but Fudge decided to linger. His fur was the darkest in the litter, closer to charcoal than gray. ¡°Definitely,¡± Tina responded almost instantly. Vigil had since recovered enough to come and rest his head in her lap again. At one point she¡¯d been pacing while discussing the possible merits of my Skill Augmentations and he slumped on her when she finally sat back down. A silence stretched between us and without the conversation my mind turned back to Jusep and the events of the day¡­ not that my mind had ever really left them. Tina must have seen the conflicted look on my face and tried to offer a reassuring smile. ¡°Everything will be okay, my Will.¡± It was the kind of lie you tell to a loved one who is hurting. It¡¯s probably why we let ourselves believe them, I know I did. I pulled up my System and Tina chuckled knowingly. Apparently my brow furrowed intently when I looked at the screens. It was a tell I was going to have to work on if I wanted to be less obvious in the future. I focused on two of the offered Skill Augmentations. ¡°Do you think I am making the right choice?¡± I hesitated before locking in my selections and looked to Tina for the final push I needed. I felt my palms go clammy at the finality of it all. Knowing that there was no going back, no redos, or any other safety net made confirming the decision more daunting than I anticipated. Tina reached forward and grabbed one of my hands in hers, unbothered by the physical manifestation of my nerves. She gave it a gentle squeeze for support. It was getting dark, but we didn¡¯t acknowledge it. Neither of us were in a rush to go home. ¡°I think the choices are yours to make, but yes, I also think you are making good ones.¡± Her smile was encouraging. The time Tina spent lecturing me and indulging my curiosity had helped her calm down enough that, to me, she seemed back to her normal, wonderful self. I took a deep breath and confirmed my decisions.
You have selected the Learning (Minor) Skill Augmentation for Perseverance. You have selected the Distraction (Minor) Skill Augmentation for Perseverance.
Learning, practicing, repetition, rote, and whatever educational buzzwords one might want to use all seemed central to a Skill-focused System. Improving how my Core Skill interacted with that new, central element of my life seemed like an obvious decision. Perhaps more importantly, it felt like the kind of improvement necessary to bring me one step closer to the Unnamed Skill. I foresaw a momentous amount of studying in my future if I ever hoped to touch upon its truths. I almost chose to enhance Perseverance during periods of physical exertion; having fled for my life mere hours beforehand, it seemed like a logical choice. Tina¡¯s consultation changed my mind. Her approving look when I asked what counted as a ¡®single task¡¯ told me the Distraction Augmentation had potential I couldn¡¯t overlook. Would focusing on escaping a dangerous situation count? If it did, then the utility of the Augmentation would far exceed most of the other choices. Much like when I first got my Core Skill there was no fanfare or dramatic feeling of newly acquired strength. A relieved sigh escaped my lips as I turned my attention back to Tina. ¡°I did it.¡± ¡°Well done, my Will.¡± She gave my hand another squeeze and I couldn¡¯t help but shimmy my shoulders at the praise. I¡¯d been working so hard in secret. It felt nice to have my efforts acknowledged. ¡°Now for the hard part, right?¡± I noted the growing excitement in my voice. Having made a successful start to the process, I was in higher spirits. I called up the remaining notification.
All Skills have gained sufficient recognized proficiency for Advancement. Commence Advancement?
¡°Only if you want to,¡± Tina reminded me gently. ¡°Remember that I love you, my Will.¡± We both knew I was going to do it, but I appreciated the support all the same. Advancement was apparently a more involved process than selecting Skill Augmentations. Tina gave me the broad strokes of what to anticipate, and the choices I could expect¡­ but it was still daunting. I almost hesitated. Almost. I was done waiting. I was done feeling so helpless. I directed my thoughts towards the notification. System, begin my Advancement.
Advancement Commencing
It was like a bolt of electricity raced from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. My entire body tensed up and a sharp pain stabbed at me from my core before radiating outwards. I tried to call out, but the sound caught in my throat. I slumped and felt my consciousness start to slip away. As my world turned to darkness only one thought remained. Tina didn¡¯t say anything about this¡­ Interlude: Tulos ¡°Wait, let me make sure I heard that correctly. You were courting her, everything was going well, but you had to end things because she hit her second Advancement before you? My friend, I love you, but you have issues.¡± ~Unknown Before Amy¡¯s arrival Life has an uncanny tendency to thrust turmoil upon the unwilling and tragedy upon the undeserving. It was a sentiment Tulos was introduced to before he was old enough to appreciate its truth, back when the invulnerability of youth whispered sweet promises impossible to keep. As he monitored Jusep¡¯s condition, Tulos found himself grateful that his son had been spared such torment. It was a selfish thought, but an honest one, so he could not fault himself for it. The boy slept, albeit restlessly, a blessing considering the state of his body. A weak mewl or whimper occasionally slipped through his drying lips, surprisingly undamaged despite the ordeal. Bandages had started to grow damp as blood and other bodily fluids began to seep from the thinly healed wounds, irritated by his involuntary movements. The stench of it all was poorly masked by the household medicinal herbs Tulos ground into a paste and administered where it could do the most good. It was the kind of simple triage that wouldn¡¯t fix any problems by itself, but could buy someone lifesaving time, or at least ease their discomfort if it couldn¡¯t. There was nothing they¡¯d be able to do to save the limbs, or what was left of them. That kind of treatment was prohibitively expensive considering the specialized cocktail of Skills and magic required to pull it off. With time, the boy would adapt and probably develop unique augmentations to allow him to Advance despite the additional challenges he was destined to face. Though I doubt that will be of any real comfort to Jusep, the sobering thought crossed Tulos¡¯ mind. There would be repercussions for the tragedy occurring while the children were under his care. It was the kind of disaster that should never have happened, let alone- ¡°Amy will be here soon.¡± Focused as he was, Tulos failed to notice that his wife had slipped back into the house. Tina could move with predatory silence when she needed to, especially while on the Beast High. She stood by the doorway and pinned Tulos in place with her eyes, still stained by wild magics yet just as beautiful. It took a moment for the weight of her words to settle over him and his expression turned grim. ¡°Thank you, Love, I will try and make sure Jusep is-¡± ¡°Her reaction will upset Will.¡± Tulos heard the poorly restrained snarl behind her words. It was taking her longer to come down than normal, which worried him. She pushed herself harder than she had in years for the sake of their son, and that amplified protective instinct was still directing her actions and influencing her priorities. She hasn¡¯t even looked at Jusep. Tulos felt tooth grind against tooth as he reflected on Tina¡¯s sacrifice. Rare were the days he regretted straying from the path of violence. This was one of them. It mattered not that events likely would have unfolded the same way, but when faced with the suffering of a loved one it was easy to feel inadequate. ¡°I will take him to the kennel. It is far enough away to spare him the noise.¡± Tulos saw that she kept turning her head back in their son¡¯s direction. It must have taken an effort of willpower to even come and tell him of her plans. Once again, he found himself in awe of the woman who had so completely stolen a heart freely given. Before Tulos had a chance to respond, she left, no longer able to suppress her protective urges. Tulos knew it was his imagination, but the room grew slightly dimmer without her in it. It always did. Throughout the whole exchange, brief though it was, Jusep barely stirred. The faint rise and fall of his chest was the only indication he was still alive. The future weighed heavy on Tulos¡¯ shoulders as he waited for the inevitable storm, it was a weight even he struggled to carry. *** While Will and Tina were at the kennel Tulos felt his heart hammering in his chest, each thud pushing his lungs like titanic bellows in a desperate attempt to recover from physical exertion. Amy had insisted Jusep be rushed to the village, which is to say she shrieked the command at him while gripped in - justified - hysterics due to the condition of her son. Under normal circumstances, Tulos would not have wanted to move the boy but defying a mother¡¯s wishes in that moment would have been folly. As a partially responsible party, he could only acquiesce. Tulos sprinted down the road to Elbura while strapped to his cart like a horse. In the cargo bed, Amy took the occasional jostle while endeavoring to keep her son stable. Every ragged breath became an acute reminder of one of the many weaknesses in Tulos¡¯ Build. Strength (Body) gave him the power necessary to lift the cart, but his muscles still quickly tired from intense exertion given its low Level. Advancement would eventually help alleviate the issue, but that road was barred to him. He banished the thoughts, they were no excuse to slow down. The wind stung his eyes and his tongue tasted like dirt but still he pushed his body to its limit and made it to the village in what was, for him, record time. *** ¡°You understand the implications of this?¡± Tulos rested on the raised platform in the meeting hall while he recounted the events of the day to Hwan. It was a secondhand account, but it was enough to convey the key points of the matter. Unlike when he told the story of his youth to Will, Tulos barely rambled as he described the tragedy. The severity of the situation stopped him from overthinking and smoothed the connection between his mind and mouth. Jusep had been moved to the Wooly Boot shortly after their arrival. The inn could only really be referred to as such on a technicality; they made most of their profits as a tavern for the locals but had a couple of spare rooms for the occasional traveler. Someone had already been sent to fetch Pehpa, who had dedicated a minor Branch to medicinal healing practices. She was the one people called when they were unwell, injured, or preparing to give birth. Jusep had the best chance of making a recovery while under her care. ¡°Unfortunately, I do,¡± Hwan replied solemnly. His face was pale, having steadily drained of color while Tulos spoke of the fueha and their proximity to Elbura. The village head was getting on in years, but his Skills in administration had supported the locals for decades. Hwan¡¯s expression hardened and Tulos watched as a shift came over the older man. Tulos subconsciously leaned back as mana began to leak from the Hwan, dense enough that he felt it pass over him in waves. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. It is easy to forget he is on the cusp of his fourth Advancement, Tulos reminded himself. There was business to be done to ensure the safety of Elbura and Hwan had tailored his Build to that very purpose. Bureaucratic Skills weren¡¯t often as flashy as the traditionally heroic Skills celebrated in story and song, but they were terrifying in their own way. ¡°What will you need from me?¡± Tulos planned to cooperate as best he could with the inevitable investigations. He knew Hwan trusted the validity of his story, but when claims of Beasts outside the First Ring were made it would be irresponsible to send an official report without verification. ¡°I will need to speak with Tina, will she-¡± ¡°When she has recovered I will send her to give her version of events.¡± Tulos felt the subtle push of a Skill guiding him to help ease the wheels of administrative procedure, a sensation most miss without specialized training. Even with it, Tulos knew Hwan had Advanced enough to apply a subtle touch that someone at his Tier wouldn¡¯t be able to detect regardless. The transparency was a courtesy. ¡°There is also the matter of your son.¡± Tulos¡¯ blood turned to ice and the edge of the stage he¡¯d been holding splintered under the pressure of his tightened grip. Not wanting to prolong the man¡¯s suffering, Hwan was quick to continue. ¡°It is possible that he will be exposed as a result of this.¡± The truth of the statement slammed into Tulos like a sledgehammer. He anticipated additional scrutiny in the fallout of the tragedy, but he¡¯d failed to realize the danger it put his son in. Everything was happening so fast. ¡°Is there any way we can¡­¡± The discomfort of his sweat-stained clothes, the dryness of his throat, everything fell away as he tried asking the question he knew he wouldn¡¯t like the answer to. Hwan didn¡¯t answer. He didn¡¯t have to. If the wrong person gave the records of the incident more than a cursory read then Will would be claimed. It was as simple as that. ¡°Hwan, I need you to send a letter on my behalf!¡± Bolstered by Hwan¡¯s Skills, any correspondence would get where it needed to with minimal obstructions. ¡°We need to contact-¡± ¡°Where is he!¡± The shout reached them moments before the doors to the hall slammed open. Costa marched in, fury written on his face in crimson. Tulos knew it was a mask to cover the pain. It usually was with men like him. When bloodshot eyes landed on Tulos they promised violence. This is going to be awful, he thought. *** Some time after Will began his Advancement Tulos¡¯ trudge back to the house was sluggish as it was miserable. Costa¡¯s Tier was higher than his, and working the fields equipped the man with the strength needed to throw a powerful haymaker. If not for Hwan¡¯s timely intervention, there was a real chance the tormented father would have inflicted serious injury before coming to his senses. His ragged insistence that Tulos fight back after every blow was haunting. Tulos was reminded of every bruise with every pained step along the moonlit path. I almost fought back. It would have only made matters worse. It would have been a betrayal of his convictions, but¡­ It would have been so easy, so cathartic. After a day of pain and loss, taking his frustration out on a regular source of antagonism would have brought fleeting relief. ¡°And that is where the danger lies,¡± Tulos muttered to himself as he walked the final few steps to his front door. ¡°When violence can be the answer to all your problems, it becomes hard to justify not using it.¡± Out of the corner of his eye, Tulos spotted his axe leaning against the splitting stump. He shuddered and felt a familiar stirring in his core. Skills wanted to be used. If he¡¯d been armed when Costa attacked him¡­ Well, it is not worth thinking about. The door slammed open revealing his wife brandishing a candle. The flickering flames caught her eyes, back to their usual enchanting green. ¡°Hello, Love, I am glad you- ¡°Who. Hurt. You?¡± From somewhere in the darkness of the house, Tulos heard Vigil growl low in his throat. All hope that Tina wouldn¡¯t notice the swelling around his eye instantly evaporated, not that he was particularly optimistic to begin with. ¡°Costa was understandably shaken by Jusep¡¯s condition,¡± Tulos said slowly while gently pulling Tina into an embrace. They both still carried the stink of the day on their bodies. Neither of them cared. ¡°He made a bad decision, but one I can empathize with. Can I come in?¡± Without waiting for an answer, Tulos effortlessly hoisted Tina off the ground and waddled through the doorway. ¡°Put me down,¡± Tina protested, but there was no real force to it. ¡°And do not try to distract me.¡± She playfully kicked at his shins, careful not to accidentally flail her candle into the wall, and allowed herself to be carried to their sitting room. ¡°I understand, Love,¡± Tulos whispered before setting her down. ¡°We need to forgive him, though. Imagine if Will had been hurt instead of Jusep.¡± Tulos still had his arms around his wife and felt her body go rigid at the suggestion. ¡°Exactly.¡± No other words were needed. They spent a long moment just sharing their closeness and relief. ¡°Will managed to fall asleep, then?¡± Tulos realized he had gone too long without asking about their son and aimed to rectify that error. A silence stretched in the candlelit room. ¡°Love?¡± He took a step back and tried to study Tina¡¯s expression. She sheepishly looked away. ¡°About that¡­¡± Tina began explaining the events of the afternoon to an increasingly bewildered Tulos. Questions mounted upon questions mounted upon the occasional grievance. They¡¯d been planning to confront Will about his accelerated development for months. Tina handling that conversation on her own made Tulos feel like he¡¯d somehow not done right by his son. It was hard to hold a grudge though, given the circumstances. ¡°So then he started his Advancement and I carried him to his bed,¡± Tina concluded and took a moment to catch her breath. The candle had begun to sag under the weight of dripping wax. Before Tulos could decide what to address first, she added a final thought. ¡°Watching his face scrunch up in surprised pain was heartbreaking. I do not know how parents do it.¡± Brain function paused and all activity in Tulos¡¯ mind ground to a halt as he parsed that statement. A terrifying thought occurred to him. ¡°Love¡­ did¡­ did you not tell Will what to expect?¡± Tina tilted her head to the side in confusion. ¡°Obviously. That way he would learn about the potential risks of Advancement and the dangers posed by incomplete information. If he would have specifically asked if it would hurt, then I-¡± she cut herself off mid sentence when she noticed the growing look of horror on her husband¡¯s face and immediately grew flustered. ¡°Why are you looking at me like that?¡± ¡°Love. Will is five. Even if he were not, why would you not tell your child to prepare themselves for the pain?¡± Tulos struggled to believe he was having this conversation. ¡°I thought that was how everyone did it!¡± Tina¡¯s rebuttal came fast and panicked. The slow shake of her husband¡¯s head told her all she needed to know. Suddenly, the gap in station of birth between her and Tulos felt wider than ever. ¡°Well. That settles it then. I am an awful mother.¡± The thought that she¡¯d caused her child unnecessary distress to perpetuate some kind of warped family tradition made her sick. ¡°It is okay, Love. It will all be okay. We could not have known things would happen this way.¡± Tulos pulled her back into his embrace. ¡°I am sure he will forgive you when we explain things to him. He is a good boy and you are an incredible mother.¡± He found it bewildering that she could accuse herself of being anything else given her actions earlier in the day. Tina quietly nodded into his chest. ¡°Do you promise?¡± ¡°I do.¡± Chapter 23 Chapter 23 ¡°Everyone remembers their first Advancement. For those who feel trapped, it is cathartic. Finally, they have some agency - they have a choice. For others, it is a confirmation as their paths begin to actualize. Some groups treat the occasion as a person¡¯s first steps into adulthood, regardless of their age. I personally think it is an unwise tradition, but to each their own.¡± ~Unknown A sense of awareness returned to me. It was an awareness of self, but not of form. Around me, there was darkness. Nothing¡­ Something had gone horribly wrong! I couldn¡¯t endure that, not again. If I died then- Wait¡­ no¡­ I¡¯m not certain. I still remembered my time in The Nothing, that liminal space in between that which both was and was not. The experience had been branded onto my soul, such that the mere prospect of returning almost rendered me spiritually catatonic. It was the unnatural certainty of my situation at the time - the knowing that my life had ended, that tortured me the most. Right now, that feeling was absent. This is not The Nothing. The realization was like the shattering of glass. A soft blue glow began to emanate from everywhere and nowhere. As it washed over me, my body returned. Or, perhaps, merely my awareness of it did. I felt my feet alight on solid ground, though the space I was in still lacked form or substance. Standing on nothing felt like a petty, personal victory. The light began to swirl and converge to a single location. It cast no shadows, for it wasn¡¯t light in the literal sense. It was power, and that power began to coalesce in front of me. It was warm. It was familiar. My sense of self expanded, like opening eyes I didn¡¯t know I had. I knew where I was. This was my core, my inner world, the seat of my budding power. The light, now solid and faceted like luminous aquamarine, was Perseverance. Except, it wasn¡¯t actually a gemstone. The space around me resonated with the thought, prompting me towards a new answer. I saw my chosen Skill Augmentations glowing within Perseverance, each a slightly different shade of blue. This was my Core Skill, my raw potential, that from which my Advancement would¡­ would grow. Perseverance wasn¡¯t a gemstone. It¡¯s a seed. Perseverance pulsed, the energy within suddenly wild and overflowing. It slammed into the solid foundation of emptiness I stood upon, burying itself into my core in a way it never had before. Pain exploded in my conjured body, echoing the suffering of the real one. It started from the center of my being and quickly began to spread. Perseverance pulsed again, lending me the strength I needed to endure, to see past the pain. An impossibly intricate system of crystalline roots began to extend beneath Perseverance, burrowing their way into the bedrock of my spiritual core. All was fire and heat and misery as I felt mirrored pathways carved into my body. It was like nothing I had ever felt before, transcending the realms of agony I believed to be possible. I¡¯d suffered marathon migraines in my first life, the kind that promised relief if I took a power drill to my eye socket. This was worse. It was so much worse. Every pulse of bluish energy rippled through the expanding tangle of growth, sending shudders through my body that carried with them a fresh wave of hell. My expression locked in a silent scream. Time lost all meaning. I knew only the tendrils of power raging rampant through my system. An invisible turning point was reached, some hidden threshold that inspired a sudden change. It was like watching a timelapse of miraculous growth. The gem-like seed began to sprout into a crystalline tree. It carried the essence of Perseverance, turning it into something more. Small leaves began to unfurl from tiny offshoots, reminding me of the foliage you¡¯d see on an oak. They danced in nonexistent wind and bore the sheen of polished sapphires. Collectively, I knew they represented my Skill Augmentations, a supporting structure for the greater whole. As the sprout became a seedling in truth, and the roots reached as deep as they currently dare, the pulses of energy began to slow. Like blessed rain in a desert, I finally felt flashes of relief. The pain started to fade. Heat roiled at my center, a final kernel of power born from Advancement. A System screen made itself known, the first I had seen since losing consciousness in the kennel.
Advancement successful. Please choose two additional Skills to finalize Advancement. Threshold proficiency must have been demonstrated for a Skill to be an eligible choice.
There it was, an opportunity to incorporate two additional Skills into my core. This was the part of the process Tina had prepared me for, leaving me under the impression that this was all Advancement entailed. Evidently, I had been grossly misinformed. As to why¡­ This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. One problem at a time. A second screen opened, this one listing several dozen randomly selected Skills that I was eligible for. The gentle thrum of latent energy in Perseverance helped me focus on the choice at hand and compartmentalize the lingering agony left by a magical tree growing inside of me. Yeah¡­ didn¡¯t think I¡¯d ever have to string that sequence of words together. I let myself sink into the relative quiet of my core space and studied the list arrayed before me. Crawling was on the list, which made me chuckle; Acting [Childlike] made me feel guilty; seeing Babysitting felt vindicating and I almost regretted that Riding [Dog] would not be a practical choice in the long term. There were others, of course, some more esoteric than others. Truly, it was an eclectic collection, but none of them drew my eye for more than a passing glance. Fortunately, much like on that night when I was barely beyond my infancy, I could make requests. As an added bonus, unlike that night, I wasn¡¯t under a strict time limit to do so¡­ Okay, that¡¯s not entirely true. If I spend too long deliberating then my actual body might starve to death. At the very least, I have longer than 3 minutes. I found myself once again baffled by the seemingly arbitrary time limit imposed on me during my Core Skill selection. Perseverance flared, snapping my attention back to the matter at hand. ¡°System, show me any magical Skills I qualify for.¡± I learned that words were secondary to intent when interacting with the System. If one were to get pedantic - and I almost did when Tina was sharing examples of Skill categories to ask about during the selection - they could argue that all Skills, when bolstered by The System, were ¡®magical¡¯. I wasn¡¯t asking for that, though. I wanted to see magical Skills as I knew of them from story, myth, and whatever Tina¡¯s display of power was. The System was quick to oblige.
Mana Sense Mana Sense [Tactile] Taming Taming [Dog]
Mana. It was nice to have a System-approved name for the energy I subconsciously gathered in my core. Either that or it was another case of The System translating the closest approximation for me. ¡°Not important, Will. Focus,¡± I chided. Normally, I didn¡¯t talk aloud to myself, but it wasn¡¯t technically aloud so I allowed myself the novelty. Mana Sense was unexpected, doubly so for the tactile specialization. I reflected on the weight I felt when Tina and Vigil rescued me. That must have been their mana¡­ It was raw, unpracticed, and ignited by a veritable fuck-tonne of adrenaline, but some part of me had been able to touch upon the Skill, even without The System directly granting me the ability. I filed that knowledge away for later. There was also the possibility that some form of Mana Sense would be needed to eventually learn Spellscript, but without any prospects for a teacher it felt like a moot point. As for Taming, Tina had been confident I¡¯d qualify for the Skill. ¡°But you did not actually ever teach me anything about Taming,¡± I complained when she claimed as much. Tina¡¯s response was to gently poke at my chest and say that qualifying for the Skill was not something that could be explicitly taught. Her opinion was that you were either someone with an aptitude for Taming, or you weren¡¯t. According to her, I had the knack. She went on to add that developing a relationship with Vigil, who was himself bonded through the Skill, was also a mark in my favor. I quickly concluded that her thoughts on the matter were biased, if genuine. It was not a Skill without risks, a point Tina didn¡¯t have to argue hard to make me understand. I¡¯d seen the possible side effects first hand. Even so, I found myself drawn to the Skill. As it turns out, an encounter with fire-wreathed fueha can do a lot to change a man¡¯s priorities. If Vigil hadn¡¯t intervened when he did, I would have died. Full stop. End of story. Presumably, eventually, I¡¯d need to strike out into this monster-filled world on my own. The thought of having a companion with me - a protector - made that prospect marginally less terrifying. I steeled my resolve and made the choice.
You have chosen Taming [Dog] as one of your Advancement Skills. Please choose one additional Skill to finalize Advancement. Threshold proficiency must have been demonstrated for a Skill to be an eligible choice.
The part of me that still daydreamed about soaring on the back of a dragon, or riding atop a dire bear lamented not taking the general Skill. It felt like the abandonment of exciting possibilities¡­ but I wasn¡¯t picking the Skill for fun or excitement. I picked it because I didn¡¯t want to end up like the little boy who had his arm and leg chewed off by monsters. I picked it because I loved dogs. I knew dogs. I still miss my dog¡­ Yeah, this was the right choice for me. The gentle thrum of energy permeating my core space increased in tempo, emboldened by the first choice and incorporating notes of the slowly forming Skill. I dismissed the System window containing magical options. Every subsequent Advancement would depend on my surviving long enough to reach it. Mana Sense wouldn¡¯t help me do that. I needed Skills that would, and I had the perfect one in mind. Chapter 24 ¡°What Skills make for a good leader? I most often find this question asked in the context of monarchies or similar systems of government that grant an individual absolute authority. Over the years, I have heard many heated arguments on the subject and, at times, participated in a few myself. Why must you look so surprised? I will have you know, I was something of a rebellious youth. Mischief and mayhem were my creed and- too much? Well, I once deposited a book at my university¡¯s library on the incorrect shelf, which I can assure you was an act of pandemonium at the time. Now, where was I?¡± ~Unknown Strength [Body] is a common Skill among laborers, empowering them to perform feats of physical athleticism beyond what should be possible. The Skill was responsible for Tulos¡¯ ability to haul a loaded cart like a draft horse, and for the myriad villagers I¡¯d often seen casually dragging massive plows through their fields. It was one of the few Skills I¡¯d been able to learn about in any sort of detail, largely due to how common it was. Possessing the Skill gradually caused a person to develop a physicality that mirrored their capabilities. I could see the logic - of course if you spend your days lifting heavy things you¡¯ll start to put on muscle mass. The System built upon what was already there: Form. It then made it better: Function. I sensed there was a connection there, one I hoped to leverage in choosing my second Skill. ¡°System, I want a Skill to enhance my ability to recover from injuries, from fatigue, everything.¡± Even if I were some kind of action hero - which I definitely wasn¡¯t - accidents happen. The wrong kind of injury could be debilitating for months, or even years at a time. That was time I didn¡¯t have. I was going to make mistakes. I was going to get caught off guard. It was inevitable. What happened to Jusep could just as easily have happened to me. I needed a way to make sure that, so long as I could cling to survival, I¡¯d be able to try again another day.
¡­ Threshold proficiency has not been achieved in Recovery. It is not an eligible Skill.
Disheartening, but not beyond my expectations. Since the night of Core Skill selection, I¡¯d gone over my memories of the System messages ad nauseam. Idle analysis helped fill quiet moments and ward off thoughts of home. The term ¡®recognized proficiency¡¯ was one I regularly pondered. To improve Perseverance, I had to demonstrate my growing ability, presumably so that the System could¡­ I don¡¯t know, quantify it, or something. Did achieving threshold proficiency require a similar demonstration? Learning to walk resulted in an assortment of bumps, bruises and scrapes. I recovered. There were times I collapsed from exhaustion. I recovered. There was never any focused intent, though. Could I really be proficient in something that just kinda happened? Except, I do know what happened. ¡°Check again,¡± I snapped in an effort to muster my confidence. My real body was actively recovering from the cut on my hand alongside countless other minor issues and injuries. I already had the form, so I tried to guide the function. I drew on every shred of high school biology I could remember and commanded my body to capitulate. Unsure if it would be helpful or not, I verbalized the process. Intent was important, I knew this. I spoke of DNA and cell structures, of calories and REM sleep. I mentioned every microtear in my muscles and every time my body worked to establish homeostasis. I even made sure to mention that the mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell, just in case. I claimed every process as my own, a demonstration of recovery bolstered by my will. My knowledge was incomplete and likely riddled with minor errors. Except, I wasn¡¯t aiming for perfection. I just needed-
You have demonstrated the minimum threshold proficiency for Recovery. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. You have demonstrated the minimum threshold proficiency for Recovery [Body].
Fuck yeah! Minimum, you are my new favorite keyword. The satisfaction I felt at my efforts paying dividends with The System almost made up for all the times it gave me the silent treatment. Almost. The specialized version of the Skill was tempting. Presumably, it would more directly enhance my ability to recover from injury compared to the non-specialized variant. I almost selected it right away, but the steady thrum of energy emanating from Perseverance gave me pause. Where did that energy come from? If the well of power fueling my Skills was finite then, logically, it too would have to recover. Fortunately, Advancement put me in the covetous position of being able to ask the System directly - sort of. Given that the System still presented itself to me in English, I often wondered if the words and terminology it used for Skills were secondary to their concepts. When I asked the System for a variation of Recovery that focused on magical energy, I envisioned a slowly-refilling blue resource bar beneath a game avatar.
Threshold proficiency has not been achieved in Recovery [Mana]. It is not an eligible Skill.
Well, that settles it then. In time, the unspecialized Skill would also allow me to touch on ways to improve all forms of recovery, even the esoteric. Healing, biologically speaking, took energy. I had to imagine that, short of consuming a ludicrous amount of calories, the energy used by the Skill would be mana. It raised the question of how the Skill would then also help me recover mana, but I could figure that out later. I confirmed my selection.
You have chosen Recovery as one of your Advancement Skills.
The System screen flickered out of existence as the mana within my core whipped into a maelstrom, nearly knocking me off my non-existent feet. Waves of blue energy began to pour into the Perseverance seedling, prompting a final surge of growth. The tip of the trunk began to split as it grew, the sound of splintering crystal giving way to tremors with every pulse of the root system. I felt the power in each part of the divide - each branch - begin to condense, forming a physical representation of my two new Skills. The emerald leaves growing from Recovery were vibrant, their crystalline structure positively brimming with life. The leaves growing from Taming [Dog] were clear and incomplete, as if they were cut cleanly in half by a vertical slice. Their colors were uniform, untouched by Skill Augmentations. Where Perseverance met the two new Skills, their energies intermingled. Mana from the roots traveled up to the topmost branches of the now-sapling where it diffused into the air, only to settle back to the earth, be absorbed by the roots, and repeat the process. As the roiling mana began to settle, the noise began to dim, and soon peace returned to my core space. The tree representing my Skills- A Skill tree¡­ You know what? Fuck it. Sure. My Skill tree stood, strong and healthy as it cycled the energy in my core, each pulse now measured and stable. It was¡­ enchanting, like something out of a fable. It was the kind of thing she would have loved¡­ Well¡­ that¡¯s a bummer. Memories of loss have a tendency to resurface without warning. It sucks. Every time. As if sensing my condition, Perseverance gently glowed, sending a small surge of purposed mana up through Recovery and into the air. It¡­ helped. With Advancement over, I felt my presence in the core space start to fade, no longer supported by the System. ¡°Grow strong, you lot,¡± I called out to the Skills in English, savoring the sensation of the language I dare not utter in the outside world. ¡°One day, you¡¯ll have to support the Unnamed Skill, and then¡­¡± It had been years since I let myself get so hopeful, years trapped in a body that never quite felt like my own even as I grew increasingly accustomed to it. After experiencing such a surge of progress, I had to believe my goals weren¡¯t impossible. I had to. ¡°And then, we¡¯re going home!¡± My legs disappeared from under me. Literally. As I drifted into unconsciousness so too did my temporary body finish fading away. When I awoke, I¡¯d be one step closer to a way back to my Earth - to her. In the moments before my lips turned to nothing, I smiled. Chapter 25 ¡°I am telling you, Empathy [Rocks] is a Skill! You- No, YOU have had too much to drink, sir. Let me finish the telling. Was a man named Tommas who had the Skill. The way he says it, it were not even the Core Skill- got it from an Advancement. Says the stones would whisper to him and- NO, YOU SHUT UP!¡± ~Unknown Normally, consciousness returned to me in blotchy increments, each one inching me closer to proper lucidity before I finally roused. Waking up after my first Advancement was an entirely different experience. Awareness returned to me all at once. My eyes snapped open and I jolted into an upright position. The familiar feeling of my feather-stuffed mattress did little to ease the surge of energy coiling in my limbs. The raw, dryness of my throat was an easily ignored distraction. I felt better than I ever had before, like I could run a million marathons then run a million more. Just what is this?! I felt a familiar pressure at the back of my mind, the one that let me know I had System messages waiting for me. I heard the faint scraping of a wooden chair in the main room and the thumping of footsteps. My own legs were bouncing, ready to spring into action and desperate to vent off some excess energy. Knowing my privacy was about to be interrupted, I quickly called upon the System to review the results of my Advancement. My eyes darted across the words like a frenzied hummingbird.
You have completed your first Advancement. You have chosen Recovery and Taming [Dogs] as your first Advancement Skills. To continue your advancement within The System please achieve a recognized proficiency of Level 20 in your Core Skill. To continue your advancement within The System please achieve a recognized proficiency of Level 10 in your first Advancement Skills.
A pattern was emerging, but I wouldn¡¯t be certain of it until I learned about subsequent Advancements. I summoned the window for Perseverance. The full details of the Skill, Augmentations and all, appeared before me. A quick glance revealed nothing new so with a mental flex I tried to condense it back into the proficiency point tracker. To my pleasant surprise, it worked.
Perseverance Level 10/20 Current proficiency points: 0/1000
Yeah¡­ that¡¯s going to take a while¡­ Before I could dwell on future prospects or new Skills, the door to my room burst open as Tina and Tulos practically jostled for pole position. Tina¡¯s smaller frame won out as Tulos became blocked by the door frame, allowing her to zip into the room and pull me into a fiercely tight embrace. ¡°My Will! You are awake! How are you feeling? Are you hungry? You look hungry!¡± She gasped like she realized something horrible. ¡°He must be thirsty! Love, you should fetch him some- No, I will fetch it. You two can talk. I am so pleased you are awake!¡± She punctuated every other word with a kiss to my cheek or forehead while inspecting me in the way doting mothers do. Despite those pauses, it felt like there was no room for interruption and like a whirlwind she departed, leaving Tulos and I alone in the room together. He watched his wife leave with a smile that shouted love and endearment louder than words. ¡°I am happy to see mom is back to normal,¡± I said with a weak chuckle. As Tulos walked into the room, Vigil padded close behind while shooting the occasional glance in Tina¡¯s vague direction and- ¡°What happened to your face?!¡± I rasped, regretting the vocal strain immediately. I hadn¡¯t properly processed the state Tulos¡¯ was in until he¡¯d gotten closer. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°We can talk about it later, but I am fine,¡± Tulos replied through a bruised lip. The minor swelling around his right eye didn¡¯t look fine either, but since Tina wasn¡¯t making a big deal about it I decided to exercise patience. Possibly annoyed at being ignored, Vigil decided to join me on the bed. I heard the wooden frame groan under his bulk, prompting an amused snort. ¡°And it is good to see you too, Vigil.¡± I gave him a scratch in that one spot behind the ear he liked and he thanked me with a slobbery kiss to the face. If I wasn¡¯t already wide awake, the accompanying blast of dog-breath would have done the trick. ¡°How are you feeling, Will?¡± Tulos asked, sending a quick look over his shoulder. We both knew his time to monopolize my attention would be limited. I hesitated before I responded, not sure how - well - me I should be. Was he expecting me to- ¡°Your mother told me about the conversation you had. You can stop pretending around me, too.¡± Oh thank System¡­ Huh¡­ when did I start defaulting to that one? I quickly dismissed the thought as irrelevant to the conversation but made sure to bookmark it for later. ¡°She told you about that? You and mom are not upset that I am not like the other kids?¡± It was a sincere question. I had always harbored some guilt about my situation, like I robbed Tina and Tulos of the parenting experience they should have had. Tulos closed the final few steps between us and took a knee so he could wrap me in a hug of his own. I always felt so tiny when he did that, even though I knew I was big for my age. ¡°There is nothing to be upset about. You are our son and we love you. Follow whatever path you wish to walk and, should you fall, we will be there to carry you.¡± The thing about people of few words? When they do speak, those words always carry significance. For a long moment, I didn¡¯t know how to respond, so I just leaned into the hug. It was the best kind of reminder that, even though an immense gulf separated me from the people I loved in my first life, I wasn¡¯t alone in the second. ¡°Will, I brought you some water and- Sorry, am I interrupting your father-son bonding? I can wait. No, I changed my mind, I cannot wait. Stay right there!¡± Tina set down the cup of water she was carrying and rushed to dramatically join our embrace. Vigil huffed and tried to shove his head into the mix as well, setting off a shared round of laughter. I almost wished the moment didn¡¯t have to end, but it did. We couldn¡¯t hide from the harsher realities of life forever. ¡°Before I talk about myself, can you tell me about Jusep? Is he¡­¡± I let the question trail off. ¡°Jusep will make a recovery,¡± Tulos answered solemnly. I slumped when I noted the omitted word, the one I had been hoping to hear. A recovery was not the same as a full recovery. I didn¡¯t bother asking for clarification. Tulos knew I¡¯d seen the damage to, or rather, absence of those two limbs. He wouldn¡¯t have been vague if the news was good. ¡°Good. That is¡­ good.¡± There wasn¡¯t really much more I could say. Jusep was alive which was a better outcome than anyone could have hoped for. The way he screamed was¡­ Suddenly, it felt like I was back in that moment, paralyzed by fear, the wails of terror freshly drilling into my psyche. My breath started to quicken, and I felt a clammy chill settle over my body. I think Tina called out to me, but I didn¡¯t hear her. I wasn¡¯t there, I was in The Forest and- The built-up energy in my core surged, Perseverance and the infant Recovery working in tandem to banish the specter of memory from my mind. As it released its grip, I came back to my senses and Tina¡¯s panicked eyes as she shook me by my shoulders. ¡°Will. My Will? Love, what is wrong with him why-¡± ¡°I am okay, mum,¡± I said softly. She let go, albeit hesitantly, as if she didn¡¯t quite believe me. I couldn¡¯t blame her, I didn¡¯t quite believe me either. ¡°I did not mean to make you worry.¡± A tension hung over the room. Tina spun to look at Tulos. He gave her a small nod and her expression cracked. She was quick to compose herself and pull me into another hug, but I¡¯d caught the significance of the exchange. ¡°Can I still have that water?¡± Seeing her feeling sorry for me was harder than ignoring the problem. I silently thanked my Skills for the assist and pushed those memories deep, deep down. They were a problem for future Will. Giving Tina a task seemed to help her fall back into a more natural rhythm. After finally slaking my thirst I decided I wanted to keep the conversation moving away from Jusep. Evidently it was all still too raw to tackle with any semblance of¡­ I just didn¡¯t want to talk about it. ¡°Would the two of you like to hear about my Advancement? Sorry, the three of you.¡± I¡¯d almost forgotten to include Vigil in my question. The anticipatory looks I got from my parents told me everything I needed to know. Vigil just yawned. Chapter 26 ¡°It should come as no surprise that humanity began to push against the bounds of the System. Mana was power, and there were those who were not satisfied with our limitations. Perhaps we should have seen the possibilities sooner. Two people with the same Skill often differ in how they develop it; the flexibility was always there. Our ancestors drew inspiration from the elements, bending them to their will through song and script and sculpted spell. Yet, there are those who claim these magics were always within the bounds of the System. I know many of you here are Skilled in Spellsong, so perhaps you are inclined to agree with them.¡± ~Unknown Not wanting to delay, I decided to start from the beginning. I opened my mouth to speak, but - perhaps ironically - had to pause. There was one detail about my Advancement I needed clarified before I could continue. ¡°Mum?¡± I asked sweetly. ¡°Did you know Advancement was going to hurt that much?¡± With everything else that happened, I¡¯d almost forgotten the painful gap in my preparations. Tina¡¯s face paled at the question that was equal parts accusation. She looked to Tulos for support but found him suddenly fascinated with a section of wall. She squinted at his feigned ignorance, it was a look that promised future retribution. Forced to face my patient waiting, her momentary irritation was quickly replaced by guilt. It settled over her features like a heavy blanket. ¡°I did, and I am sorry¡­¡± She watched me intently, searching for blossoming hatred. I just tilted my head to the side. An impulsive part of me, the cynical part dripping acid, condemned my lack of reaction. Why was I not furious? Should I not be reeling from the betrayal of it all? Except, that part of me was easy to ignore. It was impossible to imagine that Tina held any malice towards me, not after everything that happened. Instead, I was just curious. ¡°Can you tell me why?¡± Before she could answer, Vigil disentangled himself and stepped off the bed. It was a process his size made impossible to do delicately. When he lumbered out the room he paused to stretch and grumble before sauntering away. I smiled, Vigil¡¯s antics always- Is¡­ is he buttering me up so I go easy on Tina? I tried to dismiss the stray thought as nonsense, but couldn¡¯t quite shake it. Vigil was always more cunning than he let on. Ultimately, I decided I didn¡¯t care. I was just happy he seemed to have made a quick recovery. I turned my attention back to Tina, which she took as a signal to continue. ¡°Not all families prepare their children for their first Advancement the same way,¡± Tina said bashfully, looking like she was trying to shrink into herself. ¡°Some families tell their children everything. Some - like mine - do not.¡± It took me a few stunned moments to connect the dots. Tina¡¯s embarrassment, Tulos¡¯ behavior, the difference in their family backgrounds; it was all connected. When it finally clicked, I had to restrain my laughter. ¡°Are you¡­ saying¡­ you thought¡­ your way was the¡­ only way?¡± I was only partially successful; half-giggles escaped between every other word. Tina¡¯s discomfort at the situation evaporated under a flash of frustration, leaving her awkwardly trapped between wanting to comfort and wanting to scold me. ¡°I fail to see how this is funny,¡± Tina complained with an exaggerated pout, but I could see the rebellious corner of her lip start twitching upwards. It didn¡¯t last, and she bowed her head to appear suitably chastised. ¡°Does this mean you forgive me?¡± That murmur exposed a vulnerability I¡¯d mistakenly overlooked. It was sometimes easy to forget that, even though Tina was a certified badass, she was also a young mother who carried all the insecurities that title bestowed. ¡°It does,¡± I reassured her with a smile. ¡°I would also appreciate it if you or dad could tell me why I am so full of energy. Should I be worried I might burst like an overripe lemon?¡± They didn¡¯t call them lemons, but the four-pronged prickly fruits were sour and citrusy so it was a close enough translation. Tulos had once told me that if they got too ripe they would explode and shoot their spines with enough force to injure someone. I could never figure out if he was messing with me or not. Tina wore her relief plainly. ¡°I think you take after your father,¡± she uttered. ¡°He is also much too good to me.¡± I saw a faint blush inch up Tulos¡¯ neck but wisely didn¡¯t comment on it. ¡°You have Advanced, my Will. Your mana channels have been carved, so all the energy from your Core is more easily circulating through your body.¡± I had to quickly clarify that the unfamiliar word meant mana. Tina made it clear that the sensation would fade as my body adjusted, but until then I was to remain well rested and in bed. Her tone brokered zero argument. A dozen follow-up questions came to mind. Unfortunately, being restricted to bedrest put a damper on my enthusiasm to ask them. I wanted to verify my new capabilities, not exacerbate my impending day, or days, of agonizing anticipation. Come on, Perseverance, we got this. We¡¯ll have the marshmallow later. Referencing an old psychological experiment involving sweets only served to make me remember junk food. So much for not agonizing myself, I thought grimly. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Before I could dwell too long on marshmallows or my growing tendency to personify Skills, I sunk into the recount of my Advancement. The memory of the pain was still fresh, but I downplayed it for Tina¡¯s sake. My audience was attentive and eventually included Vigil who lazily planted himself in the doorway after returning from whatever business he had to attend to. ¡°You have a tree? That¡¯s so¡­ normal.¡± Tina made the off-handed comment after I explained that Perseverance started as a seed. She sounded surprised. ¡°Not that it is a bad thing!¡± Placating palms supported the clarification. My pause asked the silent question, so Tina elaborated. ¡°Not everyone has a tree, but it is the most common representation.¡± ¡°So¡­ what do you two have?¡± I asked and took another sip of water. ¡°Tree,¡± they said in unison like it was no big deal. It probably wasn¡¯t. Yeah, I don¡¯t know why I was expecting anything different¡­ Tina cheered when I confirmed I¡¯d taken Taming [Dog] as one of my Advancement Skills. Tulos just smiled knowingly, not at all surprised by the revelation. She almost fled the room to start work on what sounded like some sort of lesson plan. Her excitement was contagious until Tulos gently reminded her I was on bedrest for at least another day. My second new Skill received a different - though arguably equally enthusiastic - reception. ¡°You were eligible for Recovery?!¡± Tina¡¯s voice cracked. She sprung off my bed and began pacing around the cramped room. Her long fingernails tapped an anxious tempo on the fabric of her dress. ¡°What¡­ How¡­ Love?¡± She looked to Tulos for an explanation but he was just staring at me with a dumbfounded look on his face. ¡°Love?!¡± Tulos blinked rapidly as if coming out of a stupor. ¡°I¡­ I do not know.¡± ¡°Did I do something wrong?¡± I asked, suddenly flooded with worry that I¡¯d somehow forged a fuck up of monumental proportions. Vigil, bless him, continued snoozing in the doorway like a zen anchor. ¡°No, you did nothing wrong. It is just that¡­¡± Tina trailed off. ¡°Most young adults- no, most adults are not eligible for Recovery.¡± It was Tulos who explained the gravity of my misstep. He looked at me for a long second as if contemplating how to continue. ¡°Normally it is people with dangerous jobs who eventually unlock the Skill, after they...¡± he furrowed his brow in thought. ¡°After they get hurt a lot?¡± I felt a pit form in my stomach. That wasn¡¯t Tulos¡¯ word-choice-uncertainty; I was intimately familiar with that tone of voice. Tulos doesn¡¯t know how people normally unlock the Skill, I concluded. I couldn¡¯t exactly explain how I got the Skill, not without exposing my origins. That wasn¡¯t an option. It would be foolish, cruel, and a whole host of other detrimental adjectives. There was no clever way to talk my way out of the situation, and I was stuck with the Skill regardless. That only left one option, one that would leverage my age to its utmost. ¡°... I do not know.¡± My biological age, that is. I shrugged and pursed my lips in the universal signal for ¡®clueless¡¯. They hadn¡¯t even asked me a direct question, but I felt going on the offensive was the right move. ¡°... What?¡± It was Tina who asked. She¡¯d paused mid-step to study me, stunned out of her panicked pacing by my apparent ignorance. ¡°I do not know.¡± I smiled innocently. ¡°I saw it was an option, so I picked it.¡± I finished the last of my drink in an effort to appear unbothered by their scrutiny, as if content that my ¡®confession¡¯ had settled the matter. ¡°He is going to-¡± ¡°I know,¡± Tulos interrupted Tina, still staring at me strangely. ¡°It is is going to make it harder to-¡± ¡°I know.¡± I could read between the half-finished lines of their brief exchange. Evidently, Recovery was another type of attention-getter that could make my life difficult. Still, it was hard not to feel vindicated that my instincts about the Skill were solid. Recovery was awesome, I was awesome, and I¡¯d deal with any bridges or their trollish tenants when I had to cross them. While my parents engaged in a hushed whisper-fest they clearly didn¡¯t want me to be privy to, I took the opportunity to call up my new Skills.
Recovery Level 1/10 Current proficiency points: 12/100
Taming [Dog] Level 1/10 Current proficiency points: 0/100
Seeing that my time spent unconscious had already netted me some proficiency points in Recovery was interesting. Was it the same for everyone, or did my conscious - if rudimentary - understanding of the body¡¯s subconscious processes give me an edge? Either way, I¡¯ll find out eventu- Vigil let out a low bark, snapping everyone out of their discussions and daydreams. When we turned to check on him, he seemed unbothered. Tina tilted her head and flared her nostrils. ¡°Oh. We have guests,¡± she announced. I always thought she was somehow getting signals from Vigil or the other dogs when she did stuff like that. After seeing her help Vigil fight the fueha, I began to suspect it was something more. I was left alone while my parents gave the house a quick tidy, compelled by hospitality. Three solid knocks to our front door signaled the arrival of our guests, and when polite greetings were exchanged I didn¡¯t have time to be surprised by their identity. The rapid patter of familiar footsteps beelining for the bedroom demanded all my attention. Chapter 27 ¡°Are you¡­ are you writing this down? Why are you writing this down? I told you I was not interested in having my genius filtered through your base attempts at comprehension so that it might be shared with the masses.¡± ~Unknown ¡°Will!¡± Bella exclaimed as she slid into view between the doorframe. Fortunately, Vigil had followed Tina to the front room and was no longer occupying the walkway like a shaggy obstacle course. She seemed¡­ oddly cheerful, given recent circumstances. ¡°Why are you still in bed? It is daytime.¡± The excitement fell from her face, replaced by an annoyed frown. I honestly cannot tell if this is a repressed memory situation or just the resilience of youth, I thought. I wasn¡¯t exactly a psychiatrist in my first life, and it¡¯s not like I¡¯d had recent access to textbooks written by¡­ Yeah, fuck, I can¡¯t even think of a psychology-person whose writings I don¡¯t have. Was Plato the one who did the behavioral experiments? Or am I thinking of Pluto because of the dog thing? ¡°Will, you are doing the thing where you stare off when I try to talk to you,¡± Bella scolded me with her arms crossed, interrupting my musings. In her defense, she was right. I had a tendency to get lost in thought while casually interacting with actual children, especially when I wasn¡¯t performing for a supervising adult. Frankly, I was rarely interested in what they had to say. ¡°Sorry, Bella.¡± Inhospitable behavior might embarrass Tina and I preferred not being the focus of her ire. ¡°It is good to see you. I am still in bed because-¡± Fuck, we didn¡¯t have time to discuss my cover story or if I even needed one. I quickly ran through a list of possible explanations that could- ¡°Wwwwiiiillllll,¡± Bella droned to get my attention. Evidently, taking a moment to think about what I was going to say counted as ignoring her again. Bella¡¯s whine was ramping up in volume, assaulting my ears and patience in equal measure. Just say something! Clearly, I was overthinking things. ¡°It is a secret,¡± I blurted out and immediately felt like slamming my head into the wall. Instead of overthinking, I said something that suggested I enjoy using a power-sander to smooth out the ol¡¯ pesky brain ridges. Generous historians might refer to it as an over-correction, I sarcastically told myself. ¡°A secret?!¡± Bella gasped. ¡°Tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me!¡± She started vibrating like a caffeinated chipmunk and rushed to the side of my bed. Her chant continued with a steadily increasing tempo that defied sensibility. I needed rescuing. Just as I inhaled to call for an adult, one poked their head around the door. I barely heard his bray of a laugh over the sound of Bella¡¯s excitement. I once simply referred to Bella¡¯s father, Figuelo, as a mustachioed man. That may not have been completely accurate. This guy was a mustachioed man. Seriously, if Mustache Growing was a Skill, this guy had it, such was the fullness and uniformlity of that badboy. Every time I saw it I felt a flash of envy since any efforts at facial hair back in my first life were patchy at best. There was hope for me on the second go around, though! Tulos had a daily shaving routine - yes, he used the axe - but revealed that he could grow a beard if he wanted to. ¡°What is going on in here, then?¡± He asked warmly and stepped into the room. Bella had inherited her father¡¯s blonde hair, and the slight hook to his nose; she took after him more than her mother by my estimation. ¡°Will has a secret!¡± She¡¯d started clambering up onto my mattress at that point. ¡°Does he now?¡± Figuelo responded in the parental tone used by someone humoring their child. ¡°Does he know you like finding out secrets, Little Sunflower?¡± I was of the opinion that he babied her a smidge too much, but to each their own. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°He should!¡± Bella replied sternly and fixed a serious gaze on me, much to her doting father¡¯s amusement. Knowing what Bella¡¯s Skill was, I was reluctant to try and deflect the question further. Figuelo must have noticed my discomfort at the mounting interrogation. ¡°Bella, Will and I need to have a talk. Can you go make sure your mother is okay?¡± Bella looked like she was going to protest when she spun towards her father, but she hesitated. There was a pregnant pause as the pair locked eyes. I couldn¡¯t see Bella¡¯s expression, but I suspected if I could it would mirror the intensity I knew she was capable of when her Skill came into play. It¡¯s like she stares into your soul. It might have been decades of horror films warping my perspective, but little girls doing creepy stuff unsettled me. ¡°Okay, papa,¡± she suddenly chirped. Bella proceeded to boot-scoot off the bed and scamper down the hall. Watching the way she could flit from one emotion or activity to another like a distracted butterfly, it¡¯s no surprise Tina and Tulos clocked me as odd. In hindsight, I couldn¡¯t fathom why I thought I could emulate that level of constant, childish whimsy at all times in a way that was even remotely convincing. ¡°Will, I have something important to tell you.¡± He spoke with reassurance and knelt down so that he could be on my level. ¡°I spoke to your father, and he gave me permission to talk to you about this. This is business concerning fathers and sons, do you understand?¡± I nodded. It was an interesting dynamic in the culture, but over the years I¡¯d learned that - at least publicly - fathers had greater say in matters concerning their sons while the inverse was true for mothers and daughters. Privately, well, that depended on the couple. I couldn¡¯t recall Tulos ever trying to overrule Tina by invoking the custom. I occasionally wondered how the ¡®rule¡¯ applied to different family units, but so far as I was aware there weren¡¯t any in Elbura so it hadn¡¯t come up. ¡°Will, Bella told her mother and I what happened the other day. What I say reflects her feelings as well.¡± The feel of the linen bandage wrapped around my injured hand started to itch. ¡°Will, we want to thank you. Sending Bella to tell your mother what was happening may have saved her life. If anything had happened to her¡­¡± Figuelo choked up, as if the mere thought would crumple his resolve. ¡°... I did not do anything special,¡± I said weakly. I felt entirely undeserving of the praise. In the eyes of Figuelo, I was a kid who made a mature choice that possibly spared his daughter the horrors Jusep went through. How would he feel if he knew the grown man responsible for his child indirectly contributed to the maiming of another? Objectively, I knew that was a harsh stance to take against myself, but sometimes emotions don¡¯t give a flying fuck about objectivity. I needed to do better - be better. I felt the mana in my core stir in response to that conviction. ¡°You did more than you know,¡± Figuelo rebutted, his tone serious. ¡°I know Bella is not a fan of secrets, but would you be okay if I share one with you?¡± He made a show of looking over his shoulder, as if he expected his daughter to materialize at the scandal. I liked Figuelo, there was something earnest about the man despite his eccentricities, or perhaps because of them. ¡°Sure,¡± I replied. I tried smiling, but it didn¡¯t reach my eyes. ¡°What you did was very brave. Not everyone would have done the same - even some adults I know.¡± I almost scoffed at the ridiculousness of that. Yeah, there were psychopaths out there who would watch a kid run alone into a potentially dangerous situation, but I liked to believe most people were decent. Besides¡­ ¡°It is not like I knew the fueha were out there.¡± ¡°That¡­¡± Figuelo looked like my response had knocked him off his rhythm. There was something about the fueha attack the adults were hiding from us, I just hadn¡¯t had a chance to figure it out yet. ¡°You knew there might be wolves though, right?¡± Reluctantly, I nodded. ¡°And foxes? Or bears?¡± I nodded again and Figuelo smiled triumphantly. ¡°Yet still you rushed after your friend. Why?¡± It felt odd that people perceived my relationship with the other children as friendship, not that I could dismiss the title without causing offense. ¡°Because it was the right thing to do.¡± I could see what Figuelo was trying to sell. I wasn¡¯t buying it. ¡°Exactly,¡± he nodded sagely. ¡°Your first instinct was to do what you could to help. That sounds pretty special to me.¡± My lack of a response caused the man to deflate somewhat, which made me feel like a bit of an ass. ¡°Just promise me you will think about it, okay?¡± ¡°Okay, I can do that.¡± All things considered, it was the right thing to say. Figuelo left to fetch everyone else in a better mood than I would have otherwise left him in. I can¡¯t let myself off the hook that easily, though¡­ not yet, anyway. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was a start. It was a seed. Chapter 28 ¡°The Taming Skill is often a subject of controversy in academic circles. When imitating the magics of their bound Beast, Tamers do so with speed and fluidity. This comes at a cost, for drawing too hard from feral magics can induce the Beast High. If you have not yet read of the Northern Empire¡¯s manipulation of the condition for their shock troops and the resulting military strategies, I would encourage you to do so.¡± ~Unknown Two weeks had passed since my first Advancement. We still hadn¡¯t gone to see Jusep; his parents weren¡¯t allowing visitors, but word was he¡¯d not only pulled through, but regained consciousness. I was relieved he¡¯d survived the ordeal, but my heart broke for the poor kid. Were prosthetics and wheelchairs available options for him? I couldn¡¯t risk asking. Tina and Tulos were becoming steadily accustomed to my ¡®Skill-boosted maturity¡¯ with every passing day, but I felt evoking half-remembered technologies would be pushing my luck. Vix lost one of her tails. In the days following the incident with the fueha it began to dry and shrivel like a long, fluffy raisin. It reminded me of a video I once saw of a deer shedding their antlers. When she was ready, it just kind of popped off. Naturally, I had questions. Tina promised it was complicated and something we¡¯d cover during my upcoming apprenticeship, but broadly speaking it was related to what she did to save Jusep¡¯s life. The prospect of learning directly from Tina about our shared Skill had me bouncing with anticipation. When I was finally given free reign to test my new limits, I discovered what a qualitative improvement Advancement bestowed upon a person. My muscles were stronger, my senses were sharper, my mind was clearer; everything was just better. It was the ambient mana passively cycling through my body. I maintained a loose sense of my core space, enough to let me know how full my mana reserves were, but not much else. Simply focusing harder didn¡¯t produce any insights into the secrets of my mana pathways. The merits of having a Skill like Mana Sense became increasingly apparent. I wanted it. It would probably be years until my next Advancement and it already couldn¡¯t come fast enough. There was a single instance in which I could more accurately feel the passage of mana through my body. It happened while meditating on Recovery. I say meditating, but it was more like sitting on my bed and trying to urge the cut on my hand to heal faster. Frankly, I¡¯m surprised it accomplished anything at all. A pulse of power traveled down my arm and collected at the site of the wound, maintaining a steady, if sluggish, stream that figuratively illuminated the pathway. It was a sputtering match in an empty warehouse, so not much, but it was something. Like a bathtub slowly draining of water, the mana in my core started to empty as it sustained the Skill¡¯s efforts to fix my hand. The results? I think some of the swelling went down. Without a more sophisticated means to analyze the inner workings of my mana, every detail I was able to glean only left me with more questions. The obvious one was a matter of quantity. If ambient mana cycling improved my body a little, would more mana improve it a lot? Perseverance had to work double time while I resisted the urge to test that theory without supervision. Caution won out over curiosity. The prospect of popping my shiny, new mana pathways like overfilled water balloons was terrifying. Was it an actual risk? No idea, but I didn¡¯t want to fuck around and find out. *** ¡°Which of the dogs do you think it will be?¡± I¡¯d been badgering Tina with questions for days. The kennel was off limits until she was ready to guide me through the Tamer Bond, but I was growing impatient. My idle thoughts became increasingly occupied by memories of the Skill Tree. Taming [Dog] was incomplete, the branches without color, the leaves without their second half, and that wrongness was intrusive. It was an itch I couldn¡¯t scratch; it was a buzzing in my ear I couldn¡¯t drown out; it was a lingering bitterness on my tongue. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Perseverance wasn¡¯t of much help which initially baffled me. I¡¯ve since considered a new hypothesis. If Synergy could make Skills stronger when they work together, it stood to reason that the inverse would also be true. ¡°I have already told you I cannot answer that,¡± Tina gently replied as she sliced vegetables into rough cubes and let them splash into an awaiting pot of water. I was self-aware enough to know I was being annoying, but her calm response to every question carried a note of sympathy, especially after I told her how antsy I was feeling. ¡°I know you did, but¡­¡± Tina sighed and turned away from the task to give me her full attention. ¡°I know, my Will. It is hard. There was something we were waiting for, but¡­ I will talk to your father.¡± Tina may have started to make allowances for my maturity, but in her eyes I was still ultimately a child. I had no idea what she and Tulos were waiting for or how it was relevant to my circumstances. Considering their understanding of the situation, I didn¡¯t begrudge them for it. In their eyes, I was still their son, a child with a lot of childhood still ahead of them. If a smart baby offered to help file my tax return, I¡¯d tell it to run along and play. Did you hear that, Skills? She¡¯s looking into it, so chill the fuck out for a minute. Perhaps unsurprisingly, simply asking the problem to go away didn¡¯t work. I tried to put a positive spin on the situation. Dealing with an unbalanced mood and seemingly uncontrollable impulses could be considered practice for my inevitable second ride on the puberty train. Okay, not so much of a positive spin as the prepubescent equivalent of gallows humor. *** Sleep eluded me all night. I was too excited after learning a new consensus had been reached. The crack of dawn would signal the lifting of my ban from the kennel and the start of the day Tina would oversee my first use of the Taming [Dog] Skill. Vigil lay sprawled on the floor, like he usually did. Since he was already bound with Tina, interacting with him didn¡¯t get much of a response from my Skill. It had rained earlier in the day, nothing too heavy but enough that the smell drifting in from my open window was damp and earthy. I found it soothing. Instead of wasting away the hours vibrating like a wound up cymbal-monkey, I tried to exercise my other Skills. My original plan for advancing Perseverance came to mind. Sleeping was a necessary waste of time, but every hour I spent dreaming was one I might have otherwise spent pushing towards my next Advancement. I won¡¯t be a kid forever. There is a time crunch at play here. Dying of old age before unlocking the Unnamed Skill would be¡­ honestly, let¡¯s go ahead and not even consider that as an option. The logic sounded solid in my mind; training more and sleeping less was a surefire recipe for success. I¡¯d once watched a video about the importance of sleep, something about it being when the body did most of its healing. Rest and recovery were connected in folk wisdom, so I was hoping the same would be true for my Skills. Perseverance, you¡¯re going to help me push through despite not sleeping. Recovery, you¡¯re going to replenish my body as if I had. Let¡¯s go! I was still personifying my Skills, but I decided to lean into it. It was probably a symptom of spending so much time in relative social isolation, but I digress. The mana in my Core started draining at an alarming rate as it flooded my entire body. It was like dunking my head in icy water, and a crisp clarity settled over me. Tiredness was banished, drowsiness was dismissed; I was well-rested and refreshed. This is incredible¡­ Advancement had given me a connection to my Skills and mana that eclipsed all of my expectations. Every beat of my heart was accompanied by a pulse of mana and a wave of icy alertness. The sensation was so overwhelming, so empowering, that I hadn¡¯t noticed my core run dry. Where once there was ice, now there was fire and I quickly cut the flow as my Skills tried to draw additional power from a barren well. The pain lingered only briefly, but I wondered what might have happened if I kept on pushing. It was a harsh lesson and a foolish mistake. Unlike with pushing extra mana into my limbs, I had - incorrectly - assumed that using my Skills would be safe. As the last of the compounded effects of Perseverance and Recovery began to fade, I felt a fatigue that sunk deep into my bones. All things had a cost. As sleep claimed me, I idly wondered where I¡¯d gone wrong. At least I¡¯d have some more questions to ask Tina in the morning. Chapter 29 Chapter 29 ¡°I do not envy those who mine the mana stones. Our uses for them are varied, but the mana stone mines attract Beasts who wish to claim them for themselves. What will happen, I wonder, should our need for their convenience exceed our supplies? Who then will mine the mana stones?¡± ~Unknown ¡°One of the Skills I chose during my first Advancement was Teaching [Dog],¡± Tina said proudly as we left the house. The warmth of the sun welcomed us to the outdoors, heralding the longer days we could expect in the months ahead. Tulos waved us off, having decided to take a rare day of rest. People went through a surprising amount of firewood, and Tulos¡¯ deliveries saved them time spent on chores; time instead used to work on slowly progressing their own Skills. After seeing how many proficiency points I needed to Advance again, I could understand the value of such a service. Hwan paid Tulos a meager amount for his efforts, but I never got the impression money was an issue for us. ¡°What was the other Skill?¡± In my experience, people rarely talked about their Builds in casual conversation, especially not to children. Tina must have been taking her role as my ¡®mentor¡¯ seriously, either that or she was just - like me - in a bright mood. Today is the day! I was finally going to start leveling Taming [Dog]. Fortunately, my partially successful experiments the night before hadn¡¯t rendered me infirm. I still hadn¡¯t figured out where I¡¯d gone wrong, but that was a concern for later. After the solid block of uninterrupted sleep I felt fine, dandy, and ready to learn. ¡°Animal Husbandry [Dog],¡± she chirped before rounding on me, an excited gleam in her eyes. ¡°I knew I wanted to spend my life working with dogs like Vigil.¡± The dog in question had run ahead of us to instill a measure of order into the other dogs before our arrival. ¡°Did you know that sometimes when puppies are born they-¡± She suddenly cut off her increasingly animated lecture and broke eye contact. ¡°What I mean is, when the puppies come to the kennel, sometimes they can be a little bit sick. My Skill can help dogs who are sick and keep them healthy.¡± Whenever a new litter of puppies was born, I¡¯d be relegated to the house until after the event. Evidently, based on Tina¡¯s bashful display, that was partly to stave off questions about where babies came from. Don¡¯t worry, mom, I¡¯ll spare you that discomfort. I¡¯m way ahead of you on that one, I thought dryly. Perhaps inspired by last night¡¯s puberty-dread, I reflected on my complete absence of a libido since being reborn. In hindsight, hormones had a terrifying grip on my adult life, not that I was complaining. Still, Perseverance was going to have to work overtime when the ol¡¯ testosterone engine kicked back into gear. As if to punctuate my silent point, I felt the Skill pulse and a wash of mana snapped my attention back to my conversation with Tina. ¡°Do you have any other Skills?¡± I also had more questions about Teaching [Dog]. I found it curious that she had a variation of Teaching instead of something like Training. ¡°Of course I do.¡± She spun on her heel to assume a heroic pose, kicking up a faint cloud of dirt in the process. Her fists rested on her hips as she gazed into the middle-distance. ¡°I will have you know I went through my second Advancement before you were even- when you were very little.¡± Tina really wasn¡¯t the best at policing her words, but I¡¯d always found it endearing. ¡°... And?¡± ¡°A lady has to keep some secrets, Will,¡± she teased. ¡°Make sure you remember that when you get a wife one day.¡± Was it a low blow? Absolutely, but she had no way of knowing that my fianc¨¦ was a sore point. ¡°Gross,¡± I exclaimed, trying to insert as much ¡®ick¡¯ into the word as possible. Time was a good healer, and I¡¯d long since stopped letting thoughts of home ruin my day. They still sucked, but I had a fool-proof system. Just going to go ahead and push all the bad thoughts deep down and deal with them later. While the strategy continued to work, I had no intention of questioning it. As Tina and I shared a giggle at my reaction, we arrived at the kennel. A wall of wagging tails awaited us, along with the smell of a kennel¡¯s worth of overnight dog waste. ¡°We are going to do chores before we start the fun stuff¡­¡± There was no need for me to phrase it as a question. Tina shrugged her shoulders sympathetically and hopped into the fray. Not wanting to delay any more than we had to, I was quick to follow her lead. *** The most recent litter was one that Vigil sired himself. I say recent, but they were well into the second half of their first year. Dogs grow up fast, so even the smallest among them stood a head above me. While Tina and I worked through the morning maintenance, I took the opportunity to ask some questions. ¡°Why do none of the puppies have metal fur, like Vigil?¡± I called out to her over the sound of a few dozen dogs tearing into their breakfast. Some days, to fight off boredom, I would close my eyes while they ate and pretend I was in a zombie film. The crunches, snaps and slurps really made the horror of my cinema-tinted daydreams come alive. Now, it just reminded me of what happened to Jusep so I didn¡¯t dare stray from reality. ¡°Vigil¡¯s fur changed after he hit his second Advancement,¡± Tina casually revealed. When she noticed my slack-jawed expression she realized what had happened and was quick to elaborate. ¡°Animals do not have access to the System the same way we do - usually - but they also have Skills and can go through Advancement like we can.¡± Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°I¡­ But¡­ So there is a Skill that gives you metal hair?¡± I had always thought that the strange dogs Tina cared for were a reflection of her Skills. ¡°Sort of? It is like¡­ animals and Beasts wear their Skills like clothes.¡± She looked so proud of herself for the metaphor. If I was understanding correctly, it meant Vigil had a Skill that manifested itself as metallic fur, not that he had a Skill for metallic fur. Once again I find myself with more questions than answers. When I inevitably struck out into the world, finding a well organized library was at the top of my to-do list. Having humanity''s knowledge at my fingertips was a luxury I sorely missed. ¡°Will I learn more about this when you teach me how to level-up Taming [Dog]?¡± I asked, not wanting to overload my brain trying to juggle too much new information at once. ¡°Definitely,¡± Tina confirmed happily. ¡°Also, Will, you can just say Taming when we talk about the Skill. You do not have to use its full name every time.¡± She sounded amused. I blushed. *** ¡°Establishing a Tamer Bond is a lifelong commitment,¡± Tina said seriously as I watched the youngest seven dogs in the kennel. Older dogs, like Snare, were already trained to fill specific roles and Tina was confident I¡¯d find more success with a pup. ¡°As a Tamer, you will be able to guide your bonded companion through their Advancements. Most animals do this instinctually if they can break through the bottleneck, which is why their Skills will often be uninspired and similar to the rest of their kind.¡± There was an air of rehearsal behind the words, as if they weren¡¯t all hers. ¡°They will grow to become who you need them to be,¡± Tina continued. ¡°So, choose the dog who you resonate with the most. Your Skill will guide you. You will know what to do, and when I move to help you it is important you do not resist.¡± She stood a little straighter as she finished speaking, trying to inject a touch of ceremony into the occasion. I wish I could say the dogs matched her appreciation for the proceedings, but they were too young to care. Instead, they continued amusing themselves as puppies often do. All except one. Fudge trotted up to me as I approached. The bundle of charcoal fur had always been affectionate. I still remembered how he comforted me while Tina and I were first discussing my Advancement. When he sat in front of me I was treated to the sound of his tail thumping a steady metronome. It reminded me of the day I met Vigil. An inquisitive head tilt sealed it for me. Yeah, it¡¯s got to be Fudge. Sometimes you meet an animal that just ¡®gets¡¯ you. Have you ever seen anyone sitting on the floor, hanging out with the homeowner¡¯s dog at a house party? For me, Fudge was that dog. I gave the rest of the dogs another cursory glance, but my heart wasn¡¯t in it. I¡¯d already made up my mind. ¡°Hey, Fudge,¡± I said softly after leaning in close enough to catch the meaty bouquet of breakfast lingering on his breath. ¡°I know you probably do not understand me, but I still feel like asking for consent is important here,¡± talking aloud to a dog was not unusual behavior for me, so I plowed ahead unabashed. ¡°Once I figure out how, I am going to try and use my Skill to bond us together, like Tina and Vigil are. What I have planned for life is not going to be easy, but I would really appreciate your help.¡± Fudge licked my face. Logically, I knew it was probably just because he was a puppy and my face was within licking-distance too long, but it was the closest to an affirmative answer I was going to get. I willed my mana to gather around the branches of Taming [Dog], each adorned by incomplete leaves. The Skill responded instantly, and I felt a shift in my core space that rocked my physical body. The latent energy of the incomplete Skill began to surge. My usually faint awareness of the space sharpened, and I watched the process unfold through my mind¡¯s eye. One of the roots of my Skill Tree began to delve even deeper, beyond the boundaries of my core space. It was searching for something - reaching. My body mirrored the movement. I extended a hand towards Fudge whose tongue lolled as he leaned into it, possibly because he was expecting pats. As I made contact, I felt his body go rigid. At the same moment, I felt the tree root go taut. It began to pull. There was resistance. There was too much resistance. My mana began to strain. It started to taper out. Until it didn¡¯t. ¡°Keep going, Will,¡± I heard Tina call reassuringly. She¡¯d rushed to my side and rested a supporting hand on my shoulder. Through it I felt her lake of mana support my emptied pool. Some part of my magical lizard-brain realized I could have pushed back at the foreign power, expending the last scraps of my own mana to drive away its influence. I didn¡¯t. Perseverance added its own support to the effort and I forced my attention back to Fudge, searching for any sign of distress. Vigil had come to sit beside the smaller dog, close enough to make contact of his own. Was the resistance because Fudge didn¡¯t want to be bonded to me? I had no idea if stopping the process would be dangerous, but if I was somehow hurting him then- Then what? You risk unknown, possibly disastrous consequences because you might hurt a puppy¡¯s feelings? The cynical part of my brain chimed in. The worst part was, I couldn¡¯t fault the logic and hated myself for it. I didn¡¯t have to face the dilemma for long. Perhaps sensing my growing unease at the situation, Fudge did what he always had and came to comfort me. He pushed harder into my hand and I felt all resistance vanish. The root began to pull something in. I watched as a surge of mana traveled up its length, through Perseverance and into Taming [Dog]. Leaves of onyx replaced the clear crystal, now whole and shaking with what I could only describe as ¡®youthful energy¡¯. As my perception of the space began to dim, I became faintly aware of a presence brushing up against its borders. I could tell immediately that it was Fudge, or at least, it was their core space. How that was possible, I did not know, only that it had occurred. I had a sense that, in time, it would move even closer, guided by the roots of my Skill tree through a space that wasn¡¯t space. Our mana would have less distance to travel, and the Bond would grow all the stronger for it. As my senses fully returned to the outside world, I saw Fudge through new eyes. The Tamer Bond was young, and weak, but it was there. Soon, Tina would help me unlock its secrets and master its potential. In the meantime, my goofball was still pushing his head into my hand for pats and scratches. I was happy to oblige. Chapter 30 ¡°For practitioners of the elemental magics, the subject of Attunements is a complex knot of opposing ideas and I pity those who have devoted their lives to the subject. Consider the Skill Carpentry [Ships]. Perhaps their mana would be attuned to fire, for wood is known to kindle a flame. Perhaps it would be attuned to water, for the connection between a ship and the waves is undeniable. Perhaps the attunement is more esoteric, and would in fact be better suited to forbidden practices, for to work with wood is to reshape the dead. Perhaps now you see my point, for that is only one Skill and most people have several. I see some of you paling at my mention of forbidden practices. If your fear stems from ignorance, then you should educate yourselves. Fear born from knowledge is no less intimidating, but unless your ignorance brings you bliss I cannot fathom why you would cling to it.¡± ~Unknown In the days that followed, Fudge became my shadow, determined to never stray from my side. I realized that the same innate sense which allowed me to perceive my core space extended to the Tamer Bond. When Fudge and I were too far apart, I felt a tension, like the connection between us was being strained. It was an uncomfortable sensation, so I didn¡¯t discourage Fudge¡¯s clingy behavior. ¡°Once the bond stabilizes, you and Fudge will have to practice spending time apart,¡± Tina warned me when I told her about the situation. ¡°Vigil and I took a long time to get used to it.¡± I watched a faint blush color her cheeks at the admission. ¡°I did not listen to my teacher as much as I should have.¡± ¡°Who was your teacher?¡± Tina¡¯s intervention had been necessary for me to safely establish the Tamer Bond given the low level of my Skill. I¡¯d been waiting for an opportunity to ask her about the person who did the same for her. An opportunity she oh-so-graciously just provided. Fudge perked up at the question, possibly hearing the excitement in my voice. Tina smiled and sat up straighter in her chair. We¡¯d returned to the house after our morning chores and were indulging in a rest before getting back to work. ¡°My teacher was a man named Aylesbury,¡± she said. There was an air of nostalgia about her, like mentioning the name conjured fond memories. ¡°He was a wonderful teacher. Still is, probably. Aylesbury actually specialized in extending the effective range of his Tamer Bond.¡± ¡°If that was their specialty, how come you had trouble learning it?¡± Tina scratched the back of her head and released a nervous chuckle. ¡°It was not that I had trouble learning,¡± she protested. ¡°I was young and had my own ideas about what was important. Aylesbury was a handler for Drake¡¯s Deliveries, so his training emphasized long-distance Tamer Bonds as a result.¡± Wait, drakes?! I¡¯d learned the word from a children¡¯s fable. It was nothing groundbreaking; the hero had a series of challenges to face, so they used their wits and Skills to overcome them. One of those challenges involved sneaking past a den of slumbering drakes, which were described as flying reptiles the size of horses. This was well before my encounter with the fueha, so I¡¯d assumed drakes were a fictional addition to the story. I know it wasn¡¯t fair to Fudge, but I briefly regretted not taking the unspecialized variant of Taming. The pup in question sunk to the ground, trying to make himself flat. Sad, judgemental eyes looked up at me. He knows, I told myself, even though I knew that was impossible. Probably. I didn¡¯t think Fudge could read my mind, not yet anyway. ¡°Is something wrong, Will?¡± Tina must have picked up on my disappointment. She studied my face intently. I saw the moment her eyes lit up as she reached a conclusion.¡°You know, one day if we go visit my family we can also go visit Aylesbury.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Tina giggled. ¡°Of course!¡± She looked around to make sure no one was nearby - we were home alone - and leaned in close. ¡°If you ask nicely, he might even let you ride one of the drakes,¡± she whispered like I was being invited into a conspiracy. I squinted at the theatrics of it all, but couldn¡¯t find fault in what Tina was saying. ¡°Well, okay then. When will we do that?¡± The prospect of seeing more of the world was an exciting one. ¡°Who knows?¡± Tina grinned at my exasperated expression. ¡°It will be more fun if it is a surprise,¡± she added mischievously. I groaned. *** With Fudge insisting on staying by my side, it meant Vigil needed to move out of the bedroom. There was barely enough room for one large dog to sprawl out on the floor, let alone two. Fortunately, Vigil didn¡¯t seem particularly bothered by the development and was content to return to Tina¡¯s room during nighttime hours. If Tulos¡¯ morning grumbling was any indication, he was less pleased by the updated arrangements. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Ever since Fudge became bonded to me, his position in the kennel hierarchy had drastically improved. Despite being one of the youngest dogs, it was only Vigil and Vix that stood above him on the totem pole, especially after the confrontation. Vigil made a show of challenging Fudge in the kennel. Hackles were raised, growls were exchanged, and the rest of the dogs watched on in silence, brought to heel by Tina¡¯s presence. Fudge maneuvered himself so that he was between Vigil and me, unphased by his sire¡¯s intimidation tactics. I almost moved to intervene but a sharp warning from Tina restrained me, so I let things play out. I trusted that she knew something I didn¡¯t and would step in if necessary. I paid closer attention to each dog¡¯s body language and clocked why Tina wasn¡¯t worried. The growls rumbled low in their throats, unlike the lip-curling snarls I knew Vigil, and presumably Fudge, were capable of when genuinely aggressive. The standoff ended just as suddenly as it began with Vigil huffing and wandering back to Tina¡¯s side, seemingly content with his son¡¯s performance in whatever test he was conducting. *** Guided by willpower, the mana in my core stirred, sending a pulse down the connection between Fudge and I. Crossing the threshold of my first Advancement - or being in the ¡®First Tier¡¯, which I was informed was one way to shorthand the information - made calling upon my Skills feel easier than it ever had. Comparatively, my early efforts with Perseverance were the desperate flailing of a landlocked flounder. Tina coached me while using an old shovel to scoop up one of the many dietary landmines scattered around the kennel. Weirdly, you get used to the smell. I think my brain just started refusing to acknowledge it a few years ago. ¡°Remember, it is not a demand, it is a request, but it still needs to carry your authority.¡± She repeated the advice she¡¯d given me earlier. ¡°Fudge is your partner, but you are ultimately in charge. It is important that you establish that early.¡± It wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d tried the exercise, and I was initially disheartened by my lack of success. Perseverance regularly flared to banish thoughts of complacency from my mind, giving me the push I needed to try again, and again, and again. The knowledge that my efforts to improve - even the unsuccessful ones - would provide a slow trickle of proficiency points to both Skills was a welcome source of additional motivation. We got this, Taming, I encouraged the Skill and threw everything I had into my latest attempt. Tina was almost done with her chores. We¡¯d be moving on to something different soon. I felt Perseverance stir again, roused by the situation and my conviction. It¡¯s now or never, I reached out my hand and pushed it against Fudge who was content to lounge beside me while I practiced. The physical contact wasn¡¯t necessary, but it made conceptualizing the connection easier. Mana erupted from Taming and passed back through Perseverance. This time, the effect was amplified like never before and surged down the Tamer Bond like a lightning bolt. I felt Fudge shudder under my touch before the mana returned to me, carrying a portion of my bonded companion¡¯s with it. A new System window opened.
Dog Level 3/10
¡°I did it! We did it!¡± I started pouring praise onto Fudge, who preened at the success he was technically complicit in. His tail offered a round of applause as it clapped against the ground. ¡°Yay! Well done, my Will.¡± Tina leaped into a cheer and accidently used the shovel to catapult a dog turd into the air. We watched in stunned silence as it soared out the bounds of the kennel and I couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°Not a word of that to your father,¡± Tina said jokingly. I mimed using a key to lock up my lips and Tina tilted her head in confusion. Oh crap, I was caught up in the moment and- ¡°That was very clever, Will,¡± she praised before mimicking the action. ¡°Yes, I like that. It is like you are locking the words away.¡± She giggled happily. ¡°I cannot wait to show Zetta!¡± I sighed, finding relief in the fact I didn¡¯t mime zipping my lips. That probably would have been harder to play off. A calming breath settled the sudden spike of nerves and I was able to return my attention to the summary of Fudge¡¯s Skill. As it turned out, animals had Skills and could advance just like people. Unlike people, there was a uniformity in their Skills. Fudge, as a dog, had a Skill literally just called Dog. It was another weird facet of the System that I lacked the tools or understanding to properly dispute or investigate. It felt weird, but I couldn¡¯t articulate why. It was vexing. ¡°It should be easier to do this again now that I¡¯ve done it once, right?¡± Tina had already answered the question, but sometimes it was nice to get clarification. ¡°Correct,¡± she said happily. I called up Taming to review my efforts.
Taming [Dog] Level 2/10 Current proficiency points: 27/200
Fuck me, that netted a solid nineteen proficiency points. Days before, the act of establishing a Tamer Bond, even with Tina¡¯s assistance, had catapulted me to the peak of level 1 Taming and I¡¯d been gaining a steady trickle of points ever since. Having a mentor in the Skill was making early gains fall from the sky. Honestly, it felt like cheating. ¡°Will,¡± Tina called, snapping me out of my reflection. There was a note of urgency in her tone that immediately put me on edge. Fudge sprung to his feet and began to sniff at the air. The rest of the dogs began to bark. My gaze spun towards the treeline, searching for monsters, but I was the only one. The dogs flooded to the village-side of the kennel, and when I turned to see the cause of their alarm Tina scooped me into her arms. She moved with purpose, but it didn¡¯t feel like panic. A trio of horses had crested over the hill and were making their way towards our house. I didn¡¯t recognize the riders. Chapter 31 ¡°I have learned more from traveling than I have from academic studies. I know that given my current responsibilities, that may sound ironic. Hear me, a first-hand account is always more insightful than anything you will find in book, scroll or tablet.¡± ~Unknown Contrary to my earliest expectations, horses weren¡¯t prevalent in our little agricultural community. There was reduced incentive to foot their food bill when a Skilled farmer could match them in performance. Know that I shed no tears for their absence. I wasn¡¯t a ¡®horse guy¡¯, never had been. Horses always look like they¡¯re privy to some insidious secret and refuse to share it. They are innately and irrefutably suspicious. Any arguments stating otherwise should be summarily dismissed as nonsense, bullshit, or poppycock depending on your linguistic preferences. Sensible distrust of horses aside, I generally organized the animal into one of three categories: ¡®Little-Shaggies¡¯, ¡®Hollywoods¡¯, and ¡®Big-Fuck-Off-Giant-Lads¡¯. Academically, I was aware that my system was a gross simplification for a rich and varied species, but it¡¯s what worked for me. There were two Hollywoods and a Big-Fuck-Off-Giant-Lad casually walking towards the house, each bearing a single rider. ¡°Love, we have company!¡± Tina called, her voice tense. We circled around to the front garden to meet up with Tulos. Vigil had reluctantly remained by the kennel to maintain order, but Fudge dutifully trotted along behind us with his hackles raised. On a hunch, I tried to conjure thoughts of calm and push them down the Tamer Bond. Mana stirred in response to my desire, but I felt it fizzle part-way down the connection. Okay, that has potential, I thought and filed the idea away for later. Creative applications of magical bonds were prevalent in all manner of fantasy literature, which gave me a well of inspiration to draw from in applying the Skill. ¡°I see them,¡± Tulos replied evenly. He was idly wiping his hands on a pocket rag that had long since grown crusty with tree sap. The crazy part? There was a woman in Elbura who had the Laundering Skill. I was convinced Tulos was preparing that monstrosity as a challenge worthy of breaking through her next bottleneck. ¡°Should we be worried?¡± I asked. Tulos was watching the incoming riders through squinted eyes. There was a tightness to his posture, like someone just pressed an ice cube onto his tailbone. Tina echoed my question when Tulos didn¡¯t immediately answer. ¡°No, we were expecting this visit,¡± Tulos exhaled deeply after speaking, apparently having seen what he wanted to see. ¡°An old friend of mine has taken the opportunity to come and visit,¡± he added as an explanation. My father was tough to get a read on, but years of familiarity helped. There was something he wasn¡¯t telling us - or me. I looked back at Tina and saw she¡¯d quirked her lips into a half-frown. Us, then, I concluded. She¡¯s suspicious, too. ¡°Hail the house!¡± A feminine voice called out, coming from the leftmost rider. They were close enough to get a better look at. There was a uniformity to their clothing, dominated by rugged designs and simple browns, though I spotted a few glaring efforts at individuality. They weren¡¯t visibly armored, but at least one of them - the woman who spoke - was overtly armed. A short spear was slung over their saddle, the design again emphasizing practicality over any type of flourish. ¡°Hail the riders!¡± Tulos called back before turning to me. ¡°It is polite to announce yourself,¡± he added for my benefit, speaking at his normal volume. Noted. I nodded back my understanding while the horses crossed the final piece of distance between us. I suppressed a shudder when I felt one of the mounts stare at me and did my best to ignore its scrutiny. ¡°Is this the home of Tina Duscall?¡± The spearwoman asked sternly. Up close, she, like the other riders, fell into the nebulous age range that could have placed them anywhere between twenty and forty. ¡°We have-¡± ¡°It is, and I suspect she already figured out what we are here for,¡± the man riding the second Hollywood horse chimed in, earning himself a glare from the spearwoman. Seemingly unbothered, he hopped off his mount and pulled Tulos into a hug. ¡°It is good to see you again, my friend.¡± Tulos rumbled a chuckle and returned the embrace. He had to partially crouch since he had well over a head of height on the man. ¡°It is good to see you too, Lionel,¡± Tulos returned the greeting. Where Tulos had dark hair, Lionel¡¯s was the kind of blonde that tried to convince you it was yellow. His goatee boasted the same color, and coupled with a fair complexion - the fairest I¡¯d seen since my rebirth - Lionel and Tulos clashed. It was great. The mirth at their reunion was contagious to all but the already-irritated spearwoman. ¡°Lionel, she will poke a hole in you,¡± the final rider spoke up but couldn¡¯t quite hide the amusement in her voice. From her perch upon the Big-Fuck-Off-Giant-Lad, she towered over everyone present. Had I the opportunity to gamble, I would have bet on her having the Strength [Body] Skill, like Tulos. I genuinely thought that if she flexed a bicep the resulting bulge would eclipse my child-sized head. Her shirt was sleeveless, probably to free up the cannons she used instead of arms. Draped over her shoulder was what appeared to be a bandolier, though I couldn¡¯t see what it contained. ¡°Now that would be a scandal, would it not?¡± Lionel jested as he pulled away from Tulos and addressed his-This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Companions? Honestly, I was still trying to get a read on the situation. I stood next to Tina and played the part of a wide-eyed child. I now knew that my performance wouldn¡¯t stand up to long term scrutiny, but for a single interaction I suspected it would be sufficient. Hopefully. ¡°Still getting under people¡¯s skin, I see,¡± Tina playfully scolded, but her eyes were glued to Tulos. Lionel just laughed and they shared a quick embrace. ¡°Lionel, the deal was that you do not interfere with our work here,¡± the spearwoman spoke softly, but the warning in her voice was clear. Lionel winked at us and made a show of appearing suitably chastened before turning around to face her. ¡°You are right, Pix, I have misstepped,¡± he admitted, though the unnecessary theatrics voided all sense of sincerity. ¡°Just keep in mind there is a child present so any spearing will have to wait, lest you stain their eyes with violence.¡± Lionel looked back at Tulos. ¡°Belated congratulations, by the way. He looks like you, only less dull.¡± Oh, so they¡¯re like best friends, I realized. Banter of that caliber came from shared history. Given what I knew of Tulos¡¯ past, it left few options for the origin of their relationship. I caught Tulos¡¯ smirk at the verbal jab, which was his version of a guffaw outside of private settings. ¡°Enough!¡± The spearwoman - Pix - snapped. She wore her auburn hair short, reminding me of a pixie cut. I found myself delighted by the serendipity, even if the connection was only a phonetic one due to the language at play. ¡°Tina Duscal, your involvement in the recent Beast incident has been reported to us,¡± Pix continued, not giving Lionel another opportunity to derail the conversation. ¡°Please escort my partner and I to the site of the incident so that we may investigate.¡± ¡°Of course, Slayer,¡± Tina responded without hesitation. She didn¡¯t sound surprised by the request. I tugged on the hem of her shirt. ¡°Is that safe?¡± Realistically, I knew Tina could handle herself, but I still felt compelled to ask. ¡°Of course, my Will,¡± Tina said gently. ¡°These people are Slayers, they protect us from Beasts.¡± I¡¯d already deduced something along those lines from context clues, but the confirmation was appreciated. ¡°Your mom is right, young Will,¡± Lionel chimed in and dramatically puffed his chest out. ¡°No harm will come to her while Pix and Mira are around.¡± ¡°You are not going with them?¡± I asked. ¡°No, I will be staying here with your dad and you.¡± He gestured back at the other Slayers with his thumb. ¡°Officially, I am not here. I just took the opportunity to tag along with these two.¡± Pix frowned at the reminder while Mira suppressed a giggle-snort. ¡°If the child is worried, perhaps I can make him feel at ease with a demonstration.¡± Mira said after she regained her composure. Making it look effortless, she swung off her mount and landed with a solid thunk. ¡°Kids learn best by seeing something for themselves, right?¡± She stretched out her back and an audible popping sound filled the brief pause in conversation. ¡°System, I needed that,¡± she groaned. Pix frowned. ¡°I do not think-¡± ¡°That is an excellent idea,¡± Lionel immediately added, earning him yet another foul look. I was losing count at that point. ¡°Tina? Tulos?¡± He turned towards the resident parental figures for the final nod of approval. ¡°I have no objections,¡± Tina said, and Tulos added his agreement before she continued. ¡°It will be educational. Would you like that, Will?¡± She reached down and grabbed my hand in hers, giving it an encouraging, little squeeze. ¡°Definitely!¡± I said, perhaps a smidge too enthusiastically. The deference Tina was showing the Slayers had seized my curiosity. Would they really be all that impressive? ¡°See, this is why kids are great,¡± Mira said approvingly. ¡°They get excited so easily. A-dor-a-ble.¡± She marched away from the group which gave me a view of the unusual way she wore her hair. It was dark and styled into a single, thick braid. That¡¯s not why it grabbed my attention though. The end of the braid was broader than it should have been, like something round and fist-sized had been cocooned in the strands and left to hang there. It reminded me of an ankylosaur¡¯s tail-club. ¡°Really, Mira, this seems a bit excessive,¡± Pix grumbled. ¡°I respectfully disagree,¡± Mira replied happily without looking back. ¡°Besides, it will remind our resident parasite of what I am capable of when suitably annoyed.¡± She started digging around the dirt with the tip of her boot. ¡°Reminders are always helpful,¡± Lionel stage-whispered to Tulos and grinned. I found myself both envying the man¡¯s self-confidence while simultaneously being baffled by his apparent lack of self-preservation instincts. ¡°This ought to work for teaching purposes.¡± Mira bent down to grab a large stone that had been partially buried in the earth. It fit comfortably in the palm of her hand. ¡°Just to clarify, you do not mind if I damage the treeline a bit?¡± ¡°I can work with damaged trees,¡± Tulos reassured her. Honestly, even if he couldn¡¯t, trees were the one thing we had a surplus of. He wandered over and offered to let me ride on his shoulders for a better view. Naturally, I accepted. ¡°Perfect,¡± she chirped and slightly craned her neck to address me directly. ¡°Your name is Will, right?¡± I nodded. ¡°Okay, Will, so since this is to help you learn, make sure to watch closely, okay?¡± ¡°Yes, Ms. Mira,¡± I said sweetly. There¡¯s no freaking way she¡¯s about to do what I think she¡¯s about to do. ¡°Oh, that is just too cute,¡± she preened. ¡°Ms. Mira. I love it.¡± Without wasting any more time, she tightened her grip on the stone and drew her arm back. I felt something tickle the edge of my perception, but it was too vague to make sense of. Before I could dwell on the feeling, I saw the muscles on Mira¡¯s arm bulge as she stepped forward into a throw. I didn¡¯t see the projectile. It moved too fast. I heard it though, since it broke the fucking sound barrier. That whip crack of a sound was unmistakable. Wood splintered and exploded as the projectile hit one of the trees across the field, demolishing a chunk of it and damaging several others with a shower of fast-moving debris. Before the tree had time to realize it was about to topple, Mira had already straightened back out of her stance and smiled brightly at me. ¡°See, your mom will be safe as safe can be with us.¡± I just nodded dumbly at her, thoughts of collecting my jaw from the ground a distant worry. None of the other spectators seemed surprised by the display. Well¡­ fuck. Chapter 32 ¡°There is a chain of islands off the Southern Coast that should never be found. They are a prison, of sorts, for a prisoner who has learned the value of maintaining their neutrality. The islands are theirs, as are any who ignore the final warning of the guardians.¡± ~Unknown Mira¡¯s demonstration produced a pair of profound effects. Firstly, any trepidation I felt regarding entrusting Tina¡¯s safety to the Slayers immediately evaporated; not that I had any real say in the matter either way. Secondly, and perhaps most importantly, it brought into focus a facet of my new reality I¡¯d let myself overlook. Tina, Tulos and all the other adults in my day-to-day life were capable of incredible feats. Compared to the human baseline from my first life, they were practically superheroes. They were also civilians, just regular ol¡¯ people in the grand scheme of things. I¡¯d gotten so caught up in the spectacle of it all that I failed to properly consider what that implied. Everyone had a System. In this world, it was part of their mundane. Much like I rarely considered the mind-bending science casually jammed into household devices, to them the System simply was. Realistically, most people probably didn¡¯t chase after Advancement beyond a certain point. Why would they if they could earn a decent living and live a comfortable life? The potential for self-improvement does not necessitate one seize it. I mean, fuck, if that was the default human experience then¡­ I couldn¡¯t even picture it, but it probably involved an overabundance of six-pack abdominals. To me, the System - and the opportunities it offered - represented everything. I craved every single proficiency point for reasons I didn¡¯t need to remind myself about. I imagined that people like Mira also had their own justifications for embracing the path of System Advancement with such zeal, to be able to so casually stand head and shoulders above their peers. I watched as Tulos helped de-saddle the horses and gave them free rein to graze. ¡°Are you not worried they will run away?¡± I managed to ask through the lingering shock. Lionel was more than willing to explain that Slayer horses were specially trained to not stray, among other things. Given what I¡¯d seen Tina achieve with her dogs, I had no reason to doubt the claims. Everyone was remarkably efficient as they prepared for their excursion, and a sharp whistle from Tina was enough to summon Vigil to her side. ¡°We will not be gone too long,¡± Tina reassured Tulos and I before she led Pix and Mira into The Forest. The two Slayers had donned large packs that seemed far too full for a brief jaunt into the foliage. It wasn¡¯t until they were well out of sight that Lionel spoke up again. ¡°Your mother is going to be a while,¡± he told me, sounding exasperated. ¡°Pix is going to want her to repeat all the details we already have. She means well, but¡­ No matter, we have other topics to discuss. Having extra time will be a boon.¡± He finished with a smile then rounded on Tulos. It was like a switch had been flipped. Gone were the easygoing smile and relaxed posture, replaced by something entirely more rigid. ¡°I got your letter and had to call in more than one favor to get here on such short notice. What is the problem?¡± Tulos adopted a similarly steeled expression. ¡°It concerns Will,¡± Tulos said evenly. ¡°Dad, what are you-¡± ¡°Will, Lionel is here to help us.¡± Tulos took a knee to get closer to my eye level. ¡°We can trust him. Do you understand?¡± I did. Well, fuck, I guess we¡¯re doing this¡­ As far as Tulos was aware, there was only one major secret I was currently keeping. I felt a ball of nervous energy start to roil in my stomach. Even without my cooperation, there was nothing stopping Tulos from telling Lionel about me. I had no choice but to trust my father¡¯s judgment on the matter. That was fine. I did trust him. The lack of forewarning rankled me, though. ¡°System, Tulos, he is not an illegal is he?¡± Lionel snapped as his eyes widened. I caught the hint of worry in his tone at the implication. ¡°Of course not,¡± Tulos replied evenly before I had a chance to question what an illegal was. He gestured towards the weather-worn collection of comfortable logs we used for outdoor seating and began leading us there. ¡°Will¡¯s Core Skill is desirable.¡± If the clarification was a relief to Lionel, he didn¡¯t show it. He nodded in understanding and reached up to give Tulos a comforting pat on the shoulder. ¡°I see,¡± was all he said before we all sat down. I saw Lionel tilt his head slightly, as if he were listening for something. His eyebrows shot up before he could school them. Fudge, who had been on edge since Mira¡¯s demonstration, decided to take the opportunity to zoom around the yard and inspect the horses. Human conversations were not particularly interesting to puppies, so I left him to his fun. ¡°So, what is the Skill?¡± Lionel asked. Tulos was in the process of fishing his smoking pipe out of a deep pocket, so he gestured at me to answer. ¡°Perseverance,¡± I said after a moment of hesitation. I briefly considered lying, but it wouldn¡¯t have accomplished anything unless this was some type of weird, elaborate test. Doubtful, I concluded. Lionel let out an impressed whistle that sent a pleasant tingle down my spine. I sat up a little straighter at the implied praise. ¡°Yeah, that would do it. I understand why you contacted me,¡± he said, addressing Tulos again. ¡°I take it you are concerned the incident here will put him on their map?¡± Tulos nodded while he finished packing down a clump of halaweed. Lionel was being intentionally vague, but I resisted the urge to interrupt. I could always press my parents for answers later. Tulos began reaching for his firestarters and- ¡°Oh, here, let me get that for you,¡± Lionel said offhandedly before whistling again. It was a quick thing, a low tone that abruptly cut off with a sudden spike in pitch. A spark of flame flashed over the halaweed, igniting it instantly. Smoke began to wisp away from Tulos¡¯ pipe while I watched dumbfounded. Tulos quirked a mildly surprised eyebrow. ¡°Thanks,¡± he said calmly, as if having your friend whistle a flame into existence was a common occurrence. ¡°That must have been a waste of mana,¡± he added after taking a few quick puffs. ¡°You were never good with fire.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Oh, well, it was a waste of mana, that makes it okay then, I thought dryly. It wasn¡¯t as immediately destructive or impressive as what Mira could accomplish, yet I found myself enthralled. Was that some type of sound magic? Did whistling make stuff vibrate really quickly? A thousand hypothetical explanations raced through my mind. ¡°True enough,¡± Lionel responded with a shrug of his shoulders. ¡°I have enough mana now that I can afford to be a little wasteful with the small things.¡± He saw my stunned expression and smirked. ¡°I never get tired of seeing people react to Spellsong for the first time.¡± Spellsong! Filing that away for later. I watched as Lionel tilted his head again. After a moment, he nodded to himself. ¡°When did Will hit the First Tier?¡± Tulos sputtered mid-inhale and devolved into a coughing fit. My eyes snapped wide open as my mind went into crisis mode, but Lionel just patiently waited for us to recover. Given the smoke and ash raging its way through Tulos¡¯ lungs, I was the first to regain enough sense to reply. ¡°How could you possibly know that?¡± I asked, leaning forward with interest. I knew Hwan had some type of magic item that could - at a minimum - read a person¡¯s Core Skill. That people like Lionel could accomplish similar feats was definitely noteworthy. ¡°Normally, it is rude to ask someone about their Skills,¡± Lionel lectured and paused to consider something. The blatant hypocrisy in that statement almost killed all the good will he¡¯d earned from me. Almost. His next words saved him. ¡°Of course, I am asking the same of you, so I shall capitulate.¡± I noticed his vocabulary began slipping back into the needlessly extravagant. ¡°I would also like to know,¡± Tulos managed to choke out. With a closed fist, he thunked the center of his chest a few times as if the impact would force the lingering smoke from his lungs. Lionel reached up and tapped the side of his ear. ¡°One of my Skills is Mana Sense [Auditory],¡± the Slayer said proudly. ¡°I can hear mana. Sensing someone else¡¯s internal mana is still challenging, but the difference between a Tier-0 and Tier-1 is comparatively obvious.¡± ¡°How so?¡± I asked. I had my theories, of course, but figured there was no harm in seeking confirmation. Once again, the potential value of Mana Sense taunted me. I decided not to dwell on it. There was nothing good for me at the end of that train of thought. Instead, I tried to focus on my immediate interest in magical whistling, or Spellsong, as Lionel had called it. It was¡­ harder than it should have been. Perseverance briefly lit up, as did Recovery. I was still able to pay attention to Lionel, but a tiny shard of bitterness remained lodged at the edge of my perception. I promised myself I¡¯d look into the strangeness later and did my best to ignore it. ¡°Before we go through the first Advancement, all our mana is situated here, nestled neatly in our core,¡± Lionel pointed at his stomach. ¡°It is usually quiet when not being used to fuel a Core Skill in fragments of bursts. When we get our mana pathways-¡± Lionel used his finger to ¡®draw¡¯ a series of lines from his core to other parts of his body before continuing. ¡°-then our mana makes a sound as it moves around our body, like water flowing down a river or stream.¡± ¡°Impressive,¡± Tulos said evenly, having regained his composure. Despite the recent accident, he continued puffing his pipe, evidently concluding once again that the habit was worth the occasional coughing fit. I agreed with his assessment. This could be a lead¡­ Lionel was the closest thing to a mage, or wizard, or sorcerer - or whatever you want to call it - I¡¯d encountered since being reincarnated. Tulos said he was trustworthy, so I decided to take a risk. ¡°Can your whistling-magic be used to-¡± Fuck, I don¡¯t know the word for teleport. It had never had cause to come up before. I had to improvise. Lionel smiled gently at my hesitation, possibly amused at my intentional use of ¡®whistling-magic¡¯ instead of Spellsong. ¡°Can it be used to move somewhere instantly?¡± Now it was Lionel¡¯s turn to look surprised. He let out a long exhale as he considered the question. ¡°That is a new one,¡± he admitted. ¡°Wind is my best element, so the right application of Spellsong could help me move faster.¡± He frowned slightly. ¡°All things being equal, someone with a dedicated movement Skill would still outpace me, though.¡± ¡°Why do you ask, Will?¡± It was Tulos who asked the question. ¡°I was just curious,¡± I lied. I looked to Lionel after the words left my mouth, realizing seconds too late that, like Bella, there might be other people who could magically detect deception. ¡°Instantaneous movement, what a wonder that would be,¡± Lionel mused. If he caught my lie, he didn¡¯t mention it. ¡°You have also distracted me quite deviously, preying upon my ego like that.¡± More and more the serious demeanor he initially adopted was slipping away. That¡­ was not the answer I was hoping for. I tried to consider the question from Lionel¡¯s perspective. The almost-instantaneous speed of Mira¡¯s projectiles didn¡¯t even make him flinch, so it was probably the - admittedly imposing - line between ¡®fast-as-fuck¡¯ and truly instantaneous that gave him pause. ¡°Can you tell me what Skills you took for your first Advancement, Will?¡± Lionel continued, interrupting my thoughts. Tulos gave me an encouraging nod. In for a penny¡­ ¡°Taming [Dog], like my mom, and Recovery,¡± I said evenly. I shifted slightly to the side and flicked the pebble I¡¯d accidentally sat on to the side. I¡¯d been trying to ignore it to gain some proficiency points in Perseverance, but I¡¯d hit my limit of casual discomfort for the conversation. Lionel looked doubtful. ¡°Tulos?¡± ¡°He speaks the truth,¡± Tulos confirmed. ¡°You see my predicament.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question. ¡°I do.¡± Lionel gestured in my direction with a tilt of his head. ¡°We can discuss the details in private, but given Will¡¯s current progress I should be able to make a solid case on his behalf.¡± ¡°If this is about me, I would rather be part of the conversation,¡± I interjected. All the half-speak made it difficult to determine exactly what was going on. My suspicions were half-formed at best. ¡°I can appreciate your desire for independence,¡± Lionel said amicably. ¡°It will serve you well, but it is also important that you allow me to have this conversation with your father alone.¡± I looked to Tulos for support but found none in his expression. ¡°Can you promise you will tell me when you are done talking?¡± Once again I was reminded how hard it was to be taken seriously when you were a child trying to participate in adult conversations. Even though Tina and Tulos made an effort, they still ultimately saw me as a kid. It limited my credibility. ¡°Of course,¡± Tulos reassured me. It would have to be enough, even though the situation vexed me. I whistled for Fudge, mimicking the way Tina grabbed the attention of the kennel dogs. I¡¯d been practicing in my spare time and, while my note wasn¡¯t piercing, it was audible. Most of my early attempts resulted in a shower of spittle, so I considered any progress a victory. ¡°Not bad,¡± Lionel commented. ¡°Try it like this.¡± The note Lionel produced was crisp and clear. I found myself noting the way his lips were placed and got a strange sense for how he positioned his tongue. A strange impulse washed over me, reminding me of the way Tina helped me form the Tamer Bond. It was guiding me, pushing me to add my voice to Lionel¡¯s. I did, and for the first time I produced a perfect, fingerless whistle. ¡°Much better. Keep practicing.¡± Lionel congratulated me while I tried to process what had just happened. Fudge sprinted up to the house, skidding along soft earth that clung to the fur around his paws. His tongue lolled happily as he panted heavily, both exhausted and yet full of boundless energy in the way young dogs often were. ¡°I will¡­ go wait in the house,¡± I said dumbly, trying to commit what I¡¯d done differently with that last whistle to memory. I heard Lionel and Tulos share a faint chuckle at my reaction as I turned to leave. Interlude: Lionel & Pix ¡°Gardeners are among the most praised of the System-Faithful, though I must admit I found it strange to learn they did not refer to themselves as Arborists. To be accepted into their ranks is to devote one¡¯s life to the cultivation of all things green, and to offer guidance to those who similarly cultivate their core space.¡± ~Unknown Lionel What does it mean to ruminate on reunions? Musings of meetings, planned or unplanned, were once a source of idle daydreams for Lionel. Those whom he held dear would share their triumphs while he regaled them with his. Scorned relationships would know of his growing prowess and Lionel would allow himself momentary pleasure at their poorly restrained regret. Curious then, that reality seldom aligned with such fantasies. Perhaps curious was not the right word, for that too would be too simple. Simple was a luxury. Reunions were a disappointment, and it all started with Yulia. Yulia, that deceptive pile of discarded- Yulia, who promised forever while it was convenient. For Lionel, reunion was supposed to be catharsis. Instead, she flaunted her loving husband and two children, a dirty knife to a barely healed wound. It was a thing worthy of jest. Truly, it was. One just needed to find the humor first. Lionel had gotten good at finding the humor. Long past were the days old friends and older acquaintances reached out to Lionel to share in their happiness. Those reunions became dominated by crisis and a poorly veiled attempt to leverage his arguably-covetous position. Unless his responsibilities demanded otherwise, correspondence of that nature was now ignored. Tulos was an exception. Lionel¡¯s office desk-drawer contained a small stack of letters detailing the gentle giant¡¯s life since he returned to Elbura. The letters were mundane. The letters were brief. There was nothing interesting about them, especially when compared to the more exciting life a Slayer like Lionel lived. Lionel cherished those letters. There were precious few that cared for the man beneath Lionel¡¯s rank. Those were the friendships worth fighting for. It was why when Tulos sent a letter for reunion, one laced with concern for the son he so fondly wrote of, there was nothing that could have kept the Slayer-Lieutenant from coming to the aid of his best friend. *** Lionel watched as Will returned to the house. The dog - Fudge, the boy had called the thing - dutifully followed after him. ¡°How long has he had the Tamer Bond?¡± ¡°Less than a month,¡± Tulos replied proudly. Pride was the right emotion. While not Skilled in Taming himself, Lionel was loosely familiar with the magics involved. It was not Skill-enforced subservience, though many had attempted to make it so. Briefly, Lionel was reminded of one such cautionary tale - the cautionary tale, really. Visions of smoothly shaved scalps and delicate chainlinks flitted across his mind before being pushed aside. When it came to Will and Fudge, Lionel suspected there should have been more friction between the pair, especially considering their age. Lionel made a note to ask Tina about the subject before leaving. Perhaps it was the boy¡¯s Core Skill at play. Perseverance. A younger Lionel might have felt a pang of envy at the revelation. It was the kind of Core Skill people dreamed of having, if only because of the freedom it bestowed. All things had a cost, though. Will¡¯s accelerated maturity was concerning, but even so¡­ ¡°Once I tell the Old Man about Will¡¯s Skills, I am confident he will intercede,¡± Lionel admitted. ¡°Of all the privileges The Crown ceded to us, I suspect it is the one they most regret.¡± Not that anyone still breathing was present when the first agreements were spoken once and recorded thrice. ¡°There is some comfort in that,¡± Tulos replied after taking a slow puff of his pipe. He hadn¡¯t noticed that its well had run dry, which brought a faint, knowing smile to Lionel¡¯s lips. ¡°Some, but not much. Perhaps, not enough,¡± Lionel countered. He sprung to his feet and pointed a dramatic finger at Tulos. ¡°Speak plainly, or you will soon perish beneath the weight of your concerns.¡± Lionel pulled on the mana within his core, and it greeted him eagerly. Lungs shaped intent and carried his will into the world upon a gentle whistle. It was an airy note, barely audible and on the edge of perception. It resonated with the air and rode the breeze, drawing strength from both - and Lionel¡¯s mana - to sustain itself. Neither Tulos nor Lionel would hear the whistle as it echoed around them, but it was all anyone who attempted to eavesdrop would be able to discern. ¡°And with that, I have secured our privacy,¡± he announced smugly, cutting off all avenues of social cowardice. Sadly, Tulos¡¯ mana lay silent in response to the Spellsong. How far the gap between us has grown, Lionel realized. It would be short-lived, but he suspected temporarily out-muscling his old friend was within the realms of possibility, providing he threw enough mana at the issue. When they were younger, such a prospect would have been laughable. Tulos took some time to consider the call to honesty. ¡°Is there no other option?¡± he eventually asked. And so we come to the crux of the issue, Lionel thought approvingly. Sometimes it took theatrics to get Tulos to open up. The mood had to be so excessive that even a stoic response would be elevated by virtue of association. ¡°There are always other options,¡± Lionel said enthusiastically, only to abruptly sit back down and sigh. ¡°The problem is none of them are particularly attractive, unfortunately. It is quite possible WIll would thrive under the tutelage of The Crown, though.¡± Their methods were occasionally extreme, but the results spoke for themselves. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Perhaps¡­¡± Tulos ceded the point, but Lionel could tell it hadn¡¯t swayed him. ¡°Even so, I will not have him become a tool.¡± An oversimplification of the situation, but Lionel wasn¡¯t going to rehash that conversation. Personal biases were difficult to overcome. ¡°He will need to make the choice when the moment comes, but I am confident we will accept him. If you genuinely wish to improve his odds¡­¡± Lionel started to trail off. It was a momentary lapse in conviction, one born of misplaced fear quickly crushed beneath the boot of experience. ¡°If you start training him in the foundational forms - the absolute basics - it will go a long way. He is a Tier-1 now, so there should not be any detrimental effects to his physical growth, especially considering the Build he seems to be developing.¡± Tulos froze. ¡°You know I cannot-¡± ¡°Yes, Tulos, you can,¡± Lionel cut him off. His gaze grew hard as it bore into the larger man. ¡°You have your boundaries, and you know I support them, but using your Skill to teach your son how to protect himself is not the same as taking a life.¡± It was harsh, but sometimes people needed harsh. Tulos looked away, staring at the ground for a long moment. He was eerily still, like a statue carved from stone. ¡°I can try-¡± ¡°No, Tulos. You will.¡± Lionel stood and closed the distance between them. ¡°If I am going to do all I can for Will, then as his father you need to do the same.¡± Lionel realized he was talking to Tulos like a subordinate who needed to learn a lesson. At that moment, it felt fitting. ¡°But-¡± ¡°No. No buts. Just do. Anything else would be a waste.¡± Lionel whistled deeply. The tone was heavy, and that weight slammed into Tulos from above. With a grunt, Tulos was forced off the log and onto his knees. It was a cruel flex of power, but a necessary one. ¡°Lionel¡­ what¡­ are you¡­¡± Tulos braced himself with his palms to avoid having his face slammed into the ground. His muscles tensed, but Lionel just fed more mana into his song to keep him down. When he spoke next, the whistle continued on its own. ¡°We will not baby him, Tulos,¡± Lionel said coldly. ¡°Our life is not a safe one, and freedoms come with a cost.¡± Dust swirled around the campsite, and the horses winnied nervously at the aggressive display. Tulos grunted as he strained against the force. ¡°Let¡­ me¡­ up¡­¡± The pressure made it difficult for him to speak in a full sentence. Every breath was labored. ¡°Or what?¡± Lionel taunted. ¡°You cannot even muster the will to fight for your son.¡± That¡¯s when he heard it. Tulos¡¯ mana surged, and his core began to empty at an alarming rate. His arms bulged with renewed effort and began to straighten. Every second he pushed back against Lionel¡¯s magic required an absurd portion of mana, but it was working. With a final push, Tulos raised his head. There was a dangerous glint in his eye. There he is, LIonel thought proudly. There was still a fire in Tulos if one knew where to look for it. With a second whistle, Lionel¡¯s spell vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared. Tulos¡¯ core was almost empty, and beads of sweat rode down his hair to drip onto the dry earth. ¡°I understand,¡± was all he said. Lionel believed him. *** Pix Leaving Lionel to reunite with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Massive meant that, for the first time in days, Pix was able to experience a world unbothered by constant theatrics. Lionel was a man whose accolades inspired whiplash in all who tried to reconcile his involvement in their acquisition. She tightened her grip on her spear and used it to sweep aside a stray branch with far more force than was necessary. ¡°You seem tense,¡± Mira commented shamelessly, so Pix shot her an accusing glare. Her mentor was well aware of her opinion regarding their tagalong. He¡¯s not even the Lieutenant of OUR Squadron, she seethed. Certainly, Lionel should not have been allowed to intrude on their assignment, right? No, that would make far too much sense. So of course her Commander pulled her and Mira aside less than an hour before they were due to depart to inform them of the Lieutenant¡¯s impending arrival. It meant endless hours of listening to his annoying voice or looking at his annoying blue eyes or being distracted by his annoyingly perfect teeth or- ¡°This is the place,¡± Tina¡¯s announcement interrupted her roiling hatred for the man. ¡°Already? I know the report mentioned the attack happened close to the borders, but this¡­¡± Mira trailed off as she took in the scene. There were still signs of the conflict. The trail of scorched greenery was especially telling. This is one of the worst cases yet, Pix thought grimly. Beasts moving beyond their Rings happened, of course, but it was rare. The regular culling efforts were implemented to prevent populations from expanding beyond their usual territories. Tina¡¯s bonded animal raised its hackles as it investigated the area, while the woman herself seemed content to wait until she was needed. The report indicated she had disposed of the fueha herself, which was an admirable feat. Pix took the opportunity to move in close to Mira. ¡°This is bad, right?¡± There were few explanations for sudden increases in wandering Beasts. None of them were pleasant. ¡°It is,¡± Mira confirmed. ¡°We will push further into the Forest to be thorough, though.¡± She raised a hand to her mouth and idly chewed on one of her fingernails. She¡¯s nervous, Pix noted. Mira often argued that long fingernails made digging her fingers into stone uncomfortable, but everyone knew the habit wasn¡¯t purely utilitarian. Anything that could put Mira on edge was serious. ¡°Would you be willing to accompany us for a while longer?¡± Pix called out to the Tamer. ¡°Receiving a first-hand account of the events could be useful.¡± It usually wasn¡¯t, but just because some Slayers felt it was appropriate to dance around procedure didn¡¯t mean she had to follow their lead. ¡°Of course,¡± Tina called back and started moving to rejoin with them. Pix knew a full sweep of the area would take days, but it would be necessary to ensure the short-term safety of the locals. Fueha were dangerous, but they were not the most troubling denizens of the Outer Ring. If anything else had strayed so far into the Fringes, they needed to find it. Weapons [Spear] glowed in Pix¡¯s core space as thoughts of defending herself played across her mind. The Skill felt dull compared to most of her others, a symptom of poor Synergy. It was a bitter reminder of a rash choice she made in her youth. The Skill had proven its value more than once despite its inefficiency, but even so... Idly, she wondered how brightly Lionel¡¯s Skills must glow. Ugh, she thought sharply. Lionel was like a weed, impossible to dislodge from one¡¯s mind after taking root. Pix schooled her expression and began rapidly scanning the treeline while Tina shared her version of events. It was almost enough to keep her mind from wandering. Almost. Chapter 33 ¡°Gambling at a tavern, inn, or a similarly unregulated establishment should only be attempted if you possess a Skill to help bend the odds in your favor. Paradoxically, cheating is often considered fair game, unless of course you get caught. This is, perhaps, one of the more jovial foundational examples of the societal flaws explored by some System-theorists. They posit that, without a corresponding Skill, even games of leisure present an impossible barrier of entry.¡± ~Unknown ¡°So, what do you want to do?¡± I asked Fudge as we settled into the main room of the house. He answered by sprawling out on the ground and panting, temporarily exhausted from his - as my fianc¨¦ used to refer to them - ¡®zoomies¡¯. A small pool of drool began to form beneath his lolling tongue while I smiled softly at the bittersweet memory. ¡°Resting is not quite what I had in mind,¡± I eventually replied. Normally, I would be content to spend some time simply enjoying Fudge¡¯s company. The two adults cryptically discussing their plans for my future necessitated a more engaging activity, lest I drive myself insane. Thoughts of Tulos and Lionel had me subconsciously schooling my mouth back into whistling-shape. Something about Lionel¡¯s Skill - for it was surely the work of a Skill - kept niggling my mind, urging me to- Wait¡­ this¡­ A sudden flare of mana from Perseverance and Recovery made me conscious of how alien the sensation actually was. Before that moment, it was like I was content to let the foreign Skill work on me unobstructed, even as I acknowledged its presence. I mentally strained, summoning a steady wave of power from my Skills to erode the compulsion, an untested feat that almost drained my mana reserves. Thankfully, it worked. Did Lionel do that on purpose? That was probably the wrong question. I would have been better served questioning what purpose it could have served. Had Lionel actually intended to leave me as a whistling vegetable for a few hours while he conversed with Tulos? That seemed¡­ grossly irresponsible. The problem was that I couldn¡¯t completely dismiss it as a possibility. Tulos vouched for Lionel, so for the sake of argument I gave him the benefit of the doubt. In that case, why momentarily distract me with thoughts of whistling that my Skills could- My Skills! I summoned a pair of System windows.
Perseverance Level 10/20 Current proficiency points: 56/1000
Recovery Level 1/10 Current proficiency points: 93/100
Overwhelming whatever Lionel¡¯s Skill had done to me was enough to score a huge windfall of proficiency points, which immediately improved my mood. It was an obstacle distracting me from worrying about my future, which brought Perseverance into play. It was also an irregularity, something that I had the capacity to, well, recover from, hence Recovery. It might not have been a completely accurate explanation, but I couldn¡¯t think of a better one. Since I acquired the Skill, Recovery had been gaining a steady stream of early proficiency points. The ambient processes involved in simply existing were enough for the Level 1 Skill to benefit. Points gained from such an easily accessible pond would eventually cease being even remotely lucrative, but I enjoyed them while they lasted. Adapting to my new Skills and capabilities had given me an early burst in points for the now-Tier-1 Perseverance, but my progress there had already slowed to a crawl. The demands of the Skill since Advancement had grown accordingly. I tried not to think of the absurd situations I¡¯d need to put myself in to progress the Skill at higher levels. I wonder if he can make that compulsion harder to snap out of. Mental-fuckery of that caliber was what I suspected Manipulation [Social] might have been eventually capable of when I saw it was a Core Skill option. Evidently, one of Lionel¡¯s Skills could do something similar, or perhaps it was yet another application of Spellsong. I could see the value in working towards a Skill Augmentation to improve my odds against similarly sinister Skill effects in the future. Though I cannot think of a delicate way to ask him to help me out without coming across as creepy¡­ I suspected I would have to shelve the idea, at least for a time. ¡°Come on, Fudge,¡± I called as I sprung to my feet. ¡°If we are going to have the day to ourselves, then we may as well work on our Skills.¡± Having picked up on my own renewed excitement, Fudge scrambled to stand, his oversized paws almost sending him tumbling from an overabundance of enthusiasm. It was like watching an out-of-shape older relative try ice skating for the first time. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Together, we snuck out the back of the house and made our way to the kennel. I needed to borrow some of Tina¡¯s equipment. *** Raiding Tina¡¯s well-organized supply shed left me armed with off-cuts of mutton jerky and an irregular sheet of sheepskin leather. A chorus of pleased whines greeted our arrival at the kennel, but Fudge and I didn¡¯t linger. Without Tina¡¯s presence I wasn¡¯t confident in keeping the other dogs at bay while I worked with Fudge. I suspected that the Tamer Bond would eventually allow Fudge and I to communicate without traditional commands, at least to an extent. Until then, it was important that he understood the basics and it was my responsibility to teach him. We didn¡¯t have to start from scratch. Tina made a point of Teaching new litters the classics like ¡®sit¡¯ and ¡®stay¡¯ early on, just to make our lives easier. I was present for those early lessons, and even got to feed treats to the participants, but it was Tina¡¯s Skills that did all of the heavy lifting. Taming as a Skill focused on developing the magical bond between a Tamer and their companion. Tina¡¯s choice to expand her Build into caring for and training multiple dogs built upon that foundation, but - according to her - the essence of her Core Skill was all about her connection with Vigil. That is to say, working with Fudge like a regular dog was beneficial to my Skill primarily because the experience of working together would strengthen our understanding of one another, which would in turn strengthen the bond. That¡¯s the theory, anyway, I thought to myself as I wandered over to an open patch of grass far enough away from the kennel to ensure a measure of privacy. We were closer to the village path than we were to the treeline, which offered some additional peace of mind. I had to regularly swat at passing flies in what was inevitably a losing war of attrition. Fudge decided to help by occasionally snapping at the passing insects, but his efforts were about as effective as my own. ¡°Okay Fudge, here is the situation,¡± I said after instructing the dog in question to sit. The words were more for my benefit than his. Besides, I already spoke to my Skills; by all accounts, speaking to my magically-bonded dog was less weird than that. ¡°If you are going to be my guard dog, we have to work on your prey drive,¡± I lectured. Fudge tilted his head in confusion while a pleasant breeze played amongst his charcoal fur. Looking at the goofy bundle of love that was Fudge, I felt my resolve waver. Teaching him how to be a more effective killer would be¡­ Necessary, I reminded myself. My old german shepherd was the most gentle dog I had ever owned, but she was a product of our circumstances. I could spoil her with toys, trips to the dog park and occasionally slip her a french fry when no one was looking. Living in such a peaceful world was not a luxury Fudge and I had. I mean, fuck, I¡¯m back on the food chain here. The whole point of choosing the Taming Skill was to turn Fudge into someone who could help me face the dangers of the world. He was to be my friend, but also my protector, and denying him the tools to do so wouldn¡¯t help either of us. Paradoxically, clinging too tightly to my old-world values could prevent me from ever getting back there. Again, thoughts of home momentarily derailed my efforts. It had been a while since I let myself get distracted by them so much in one day. I felt Perseverance pulse in an effort to drive away my doubts. It worked, eventually, but something felt off. My mind lingered on the sensation of my Core Skill, unable to figure out what left me feeling off balance. That¡¯s different, I mused before I returned my attention to Fudge. No sense in wasting too much time on the problem. ¡°Since you are still young, that means we start by getting you used to biting down on things and building strong jaw muscles.¡± I mimed chomping at the air, careful not to accidentally swallow a fly. ¡°Fortunately, we get to practice this by playing a game.¡± I held up the sheet of leather and rolled it into a rough tube. Tina didn¡¯t refer to the activity as ¡®tug-of-war¡¯, but it was. It wasn¡¯t innovative or magical, but simple solutions were usually the most effective, in my experience. *** I hit the ground and groaned at the impact. Life-sustaining oxygen escaped my lungs with a whoosh. Fudge celebrated yet another victory by settling down to gnaw at his prize. We¡¯d been playing for well over an hour and I failed to properly consider how outmatched I was. I knew I wouldn¡¯t have an easy time of it, but I¡¯d hoped that digging my feet in and calling upon Perseverance would help me stand up to the oversized puppy. Technically, it did help, but a well timed thrash of Fudge¡¯s head would gyrate my shoulders and send me sprawling almost every time. I was outweighed and outmatched. At least Recovery is also getting a chance to shine, I thought dryly. I felt the Skill come into play as I dug my fingers into the grass, pushed myself to my knees, and tried to catch my breath. I tried timing my breaths to the dull thumping of Fudge¡¯s wagging tail, treating it like a metronome. Tulos and Lionel hadn¡¯t come to fetch us yet, so presumably they were still talking about me. Either that or they were just catching up and were content to do so without a kid there to interject with questions every other sentence. By convincing myself that thoughts of their conversation counted as a distraction, I regularly called upon Perseverance to help keep me focused on Fudge when my mind tried to wander. Speaking of which¡­ I sprung back to my feet and rewarded Fudge with a piece of jerky when he promptly surrendered the leather back to me. ¡°Okay Fudge, round¡­ honestly, I¡¯ve lost count.¡± I found myself grinning, even as my muscles ached. Every proficiency point mattered, and there was no time like the present. Chapter 34 ¡°Do we shape our Skills? Do our Skills shape us? I have come to conclude that it is a little bit of both. Our Skills breed habits. Habits in action become habits in thought become a part of who we are. Ultimately, the responsibility still rests with us. Your Skills are not and should never be an excuse. Your actions are your own.¡± ~Unknown Shades of twilight already coloured the horizon by the time Tina and Vigil returned. Neither Mira nor Pix were with her. According to Lionel, the responsibilities of his fellow Slayers would keep them indisposed for at least another day or two. Thus, we found ourselves saddled with a temporary houseguest. At least, we would have, if we had a guest room. Fortunately, Lionel was content to camp outside, insisted upon it, even. ¡°To slumber beneath the night sky is to seize inspiration from the Eyes of the System, or so some say,¡± was how he¡¯d phrased it. The expression was new to me, but I rather enjoyed the imagery. I¡¯d always found the stars beautiful in passing. In my first life, they were ephemeral, something magical in a world that felt increasingly less so. It was why I never bothered learning the official constellations or committing their patterns to memory. Perhaps subconsciously, I clung to the mystique. It was almost a shame, in hindsight. Being able to identify the presence - or absence - of ¡®Ursus-Major-General¡¯ or whatever it¡¯s called could have spared me years of existential musings. Unfortunately, I never imagined being able to pick the starscape of Earth out of a lineup would be relevant to my situation. The moon was, similarly, a dead end. The natural satellite I spied was the same yellowish-grayish-white I was familiar with instead of something more telling, like purple or green. It had a typical lunar cycle that waxed and waned, and was appropriately adorned with craters. As far as moons went, it was certainly moony. Tulos was quick to abscond with Tina after sending me to bed with promises of an explanation the following day. I could understand his desire to clear everything with Tina first, but I was growing impatient. The not knowing gnawed at me. *** I was having a bad night. Sleep eluded me as one grating thought turned into another, then worry turned to doubt. I¡¯d abandoned the bed and sat with my back to the wall. When I tilted my head back, I felt a chill at the point of contact. Did I fuck up? It was an insidious thought, one I felt latch onto my mind and dig into my confidence. So much had happened since the incident with Jusep and my subsequent Advancement. There was plenty to keep my body busy and my thoughts occupied over the last couple of weeks. I allowed myself to get lost in the new possibilities Advancement provided. I haven¡¯t even thought about what happened to Jusep in days¡­ I realized. Hearing Tulos and Lionel discuss the incident was the closest I¡¯d come in a long time. Too long. There was always one more thing to ask Tina about, or one more thing to experiment with, or- the list went on and on. Mana from Perseverance tried to help push the feelings away, but it barely affected me. The mana was dulled. Diluted. It was Recovery. Without external distractions, I inevitably spotted the source of my growing discomfort. My Skills were in opposition. I felt my breathing start to quicken as memories of the fueha attack flooded my mind, no longer held at bay. They were the key, the source of my doubt. I heard a stirring of movement. At first, Fudge concluded that my position on the floor meant I was offering him the bed. In the way that dogs do, he must have picked up on my distress. After a quick stretch, he hopped down and tried to push his head against me for comfort. Normally, it would have helped. In that moment, the appreciation I felt for Fudge turned to loathing for myself. It finally occurred to me what Fudge represented beyond his eventual role as my guard dog. He¡¯s another connection to my life as Will. A big one¡­ basically an anchor¡­ It should have been obvious, right? I just¡­ hadn¡¯t been able to realize it until that point. Something isn¡¯t adding up. More than one ¡®something¡¯ wasn''t adding up, actually. I felt Perseverance and Recovery start to glow again. Don¡¯t either of you fucking dare, I thought at the Skills, overcome with a flash of acidic anger. Surprisingly, my mana went still, and the Skills dimmed. It was the first time I had ever tried forcefully shutting off a Skill. Not wanting to deprive myself of proficiency points, I had been actively encouraging Perseverance to activate since- Since I was a baby¡­ One thing at a time! It was harder to organize my thoughts without Perseverance, but I¡¯d still been doing it for years and eventually managed the feat despite my self-imposed handicap. I grabbed a handful of Fudge¡¯s fur for support, which made me feel all the more guilty as I replayed my logic for choosing a Taming Skill to begin with. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Creatures like the fueha were terrifying; Vigil and Tina could defend themselves against the fueha; having a dog like Vigil would help me survive long enough to figure out the Unnamed Skill and get home. At the time, it made sense. It still made sense, technically, but there was a nuance I¡¯d not properly considered. The best-case scenario was that I¡¯d master Taming [Dog] and all the magics associated with it. Fudge and I would push Advancement to its limit. I¡¯d eventually learn the secrets of the Unnamed Skill or discover a completely different method of returning home and then¡­ And then what? After decades, practically a whole lifetime with Fudge, would I be willing to abandon him if it meant getting back home? What if I couldn¡¯t bring him with me? FUCK! I clenched my injured hand into a fist and punched the ground. The impact sent spikes of pain up my arm as I bit back a curse. I felt my Skills try to reignite in response to the new stimulus, but another harsh thought dowsed their power. What the fuck was I thinking?! I sprung to my feet and started nervously pacing the room, a habit I shared with Tina. More importantly, why was I able to make a decision like that? I was beginning to suspect that Perseverance had been skewing my priorities. Taming was a pragmatic choice, but surely I could have thought of something better suited to the immediate goal of returning home that didn¡¯t saddle me with- No, not saddle, you can¡¯t think about poor Fudge like that, I scolded myself. My frustration began to boil. It wasn¡¯t fair. Reincarnation was bullshit. Skills were bullshit. It was all bullshit. As I seethed, the memories of the fueha attack replayed in my mind for the umpteenth time, making up for weeks of delayed torment. The fueha attack¡­ It was the only thing I could think of that made any sense. Perseverance was so focused on keeping me alive that, for the first time in years, I was able to adjust my priorities. For one reason or another, in that moment, I clung to the safety Vigil represented and let it color my decisions. I wanted to scream. Some rational part of my brain tried to insist that the choices I made were ultimately my own, but was that really the case? It was like my emotions were an active volcano forced into dormancy, finally free to erupt. Now that I was feeling every buried frustration, every bitter thought repressed so that it didn¡¯t impede my progress, the sensation was overwhelming. I needed an outlet, I- There was a knock on my window. Fudge, who had been watching me pace, leapt to his feet and started growling at the intruder. A quick pivot revealed Lionel peering into my bedroom from outside. ¡°Is it okay if I come in?¡± He asked, and I noted the concern in his voice. ¡°Your parents are in the middle of something, but you look like you need adult supervision.¡± ¡°Fudge, heel,¡± I said. He did. ¡°Why are you here?¡± I snapped at Lionel, prompting a small frown from the Slayer. I felt my whole body grow tense at his intrusion. I didn¡¯t need any help. ¡°I think what you mean to ask is how I knew you needed adult supervision, since I already explained why I was here¡± Lionel remarked casually. ¡°To answer your question, I heard you.¡± He pointed at his ear. ¡°I can hear more than just mana. It is how I know your parents are having an important conversation and should not be disturbed right now.¡± ¡°So, you just listen to everyone all the time?¡± It was an accusation. My face was locked in a scowl, but Lionel didn¡¯t even flinch, because of course he didn¡¯t. Because I am stuck in this fucking childish body, I thought as a fresh wave of frustration crashed over me. ¡°No, that would be torture,¡± Lionel replied, adopting a lecturing tone. ¡°But old habits die hard, and I occasionally use my mana to scan an area, even when that area should be a safe one.¡± He made a show of considering something. ¡°If you would prefer I remain outside, perhaps you should join me? Fresh air can soothe a cranky heart.¡± ¡°I am not cranky,¡± I spat. ¡°I just¡­ I just¡­¡± ¡°We can talk about it,¡± Lionel said and, somehow, I could feel the empathy behind his words. It wasn¡¯t like when I felt compelled to practice my whistling earlier, it was¡­ it was like I just knew he was being sincere. ¡°Your father informed me regarding your apparent maturity, so I promise I¡¯ll communicate with you accordingly. Does that sound good?¡± I nodded before I realized I was doing it. ¡°Brilliant. Bring Fudge. I suspect he would grow rather antsy without your company, and dogs should never be antsy. That would be like seeing a catty cow.¡± He shuddered. ¡°See? It does not even sound right.¡± It was hard for my anger to find purchase against Lionel¡¯s stream of nonsense. Don¡¯t let him bait you into an outburst, I told myself. I almost didn¡¯t listen. Lionel walked away from the window, presumably to go wait for me. I was left silently fuming without any sensible way to vent. The dull throbbing in my fist was a reminder of what I¡¯d done when left alone. I groaned in annoyance. ¡°Come on Fudge,¡± I said reluctantly before trudging to the door. Chapter 35 ¡°I once heard a song, as it cut through the din, and it only cost forever. My wants were not wrong, but my logic was thin, and so I lost her too. I never could quite figure out what those lyrics meant, but the tune remains rooted in my mind after all these years.¡± ~Unknown Fudge and I were able to leave the house without incident. The door to my parent¡¯s room was closed, lending weight to Lionel¡¯s claims about their preoccupation. I stepped softly, so as to not disturb them. Fudge was effortlessly able to duplicate my efforts, padding silently practically by accident. We didn¡¯t cross paths with Vigil, so I assumed he was with Tulos and Tina, though he no doubt was aware of my movements. There was a crisp note to the nighttime air, the kind that should have left me suppressing the occasional shiver. Instead, I felt comfortable; an additional benefit brought about by Advancement and the resultant ambient mana cycling around my body. The prospect of growing increasingly unbothered by the whims of the weather was enough to momentarily brighten my mood. It wasn¡¯t until I saw Lionel waiting by his impromptu campsite that I idly considered the ¡®stranger-danger¡¯ component of the whole situation, but I was quick to dismiss it. Realistically, if he¡¯s anywhere near as strong as Mira it is not much of a muchness, I thought cynically. If Lionel wanted to harm me - or us - I doubted we¡¯d be able to stop him. The societal implications of such a thought weren¡¯t lost on me. I silently justified postponing any reflection on the subject to a later date. One shit at a time. A small fire was crackling and I watched as Lionel casually fed some kindling into it. I recognized it as some of the debris from Mira¡¯s earlier demonstration. ¡°Please, take a seat,¡± Lionel said warmly. I heard a horse snort from somewhere in the darkness and narrowed my eyes at the direction the sound came from. ¡°I would rather stand,¡± I said. It was petty, but fuck, maybe I wanted petty. Maybe it was my turn to be unreasonable instead of getting dragged by the balls through the brambles of circumstance thrust upon me. ¡°As you wish,¡± Lionel replied. He didn¡¯t seem bothered by my choice, which irked me further. I waited for him to say something else, but he just sat there patiently. The seconds stretched. A faint breeze passed through the fire, carrying a few embers along with it that quickly lost their light. Fudge made himself comfortable near the fire, quickly dozing off while bathed in its warmth. ¡°Well?¡± I eventually asked and crossed my arms. ¡°Well, what?¡± ¡°You called me out here to talk and then you just sat there!¡± I snapped back. Lionel used a long stick to poke at the smoldering wood, moving pieces around before giving me his attention. The bastard looked amused. ¡°You were not ready to talk, but I suspect you are now,¡± he said and again gestured for me to sit. I felt my hands momentarily flex into claws as I envisioned strangling the buffoon. He¡¯s not going to let this go, I realized. I sat, if only so that we could move things along. ¡°There. I am sitting. What do you want?¡± The astute of you may have realized that, technically, I was the one who agreed to come out and talk. Please refer to my earlier comments about a burning need to be petty. ¡°I want you to tell me what is bothering you so that I might offer you some advice. My experiences are deceptively vast given my youth.¡± I raised an eyebrow in response to the claim, but he just grinned. ¡°Try me. If I cannot help you, then I will bow, scrape, apologize, and leave you to your brooding.¡± ¡°I was not-¡± ¡°Yes, yes, you were not brooding. Well, your not-brooding was what solidified my belief in your father¡¯s claims about your advanced maturity. That type of behavior is most common in teenagers, not children your age,¡± he said smoothly. Well¡­ fuck, that was a low blow. It was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over me. I was an adult, but I¡¯d been acting like a child. I excused the behavior in the months following my rebirth given the extreme circumstances at the time, but that was years ago. I was out of excuses. I took a deep breath. Something had to give. My anger and frustration at everything was still there, simmering below the surface. I tentatively welcomed Perseverance back onto the playing field. Instead of running the Skill ¡®passively¡¯, like I had before, I made an effort to be more deliberate in my intentions. Feel, but don¡¯t get overwhelmed. Share, but don¡¯t overshare. Start talking about your problems, otherwise they¡¯ll haunt you forever. A steady stream of mana began to flow from Perseverance as I coached myself through the process. This time, as it passed through Recovery, the weaker Skill responded to my intent and amplified the effect. Compared to the numb suppression I¡¯d been practicing until that point, I remained sharply cognizant of my emotions but in a way that felt¡­ manageable. It was like my Skills had formed a magical valve. The source of my turmoil was still there, but I only had to process a fraction at a time. With the help of my Skills, I wrangled back control of my composure. ¡°Okay, fine,¡± I said. ¡°You win. Are you sure your advice is good?¡± A sense of relative calm settled over me. I can do this. In response to my question, Lionel just shrugged. ¡°That will be up to you to decide,¡± he said. I decided I would hold him to that. *** To his credit, Lionel was a good listener, which honestly shouldn¡¯t have surprised me given what I knew about his Skills. My words came slowly, at first, but as I gained momentum I began wildly gesticulating to punctuate my points. Lionel just sat patiently, even though I was basically shouting at him by the time I finished listing my complaints. I spared a moment to check in on my mana reserves, but they¡¯d barely taken a hit. Compared to when I¡¯d drawn on Perseverance and Recovery together as an alternative to sleep, I could have kept the magic active for hours. What¡¯s different? I wondered. It would be something worth reflecting on when I wasn¡¯t venting my frustrations to a relative stranger, so I pushed that line of inquiry aside. Adding to my pile of concerns felt less daunting while I was actively working through it. I spoke of my doubts regarding Advancement, of my inability to be certain that I made the wisest choices. I lamented my concerns regarding my misuse of Skills, and how I worried they were turning me into someone I wasn¡¯t supposed to be. Catharsis. I only shared half-truths, but being able to unload the essence of my problems onto Lionel offered temporary relief. Even if it were just for a moment, someone else was there to share my burden. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. I needed that, I thought grimly. The relief was short-lived. As I sat illuminated by the flickering firelight, I felt my insecurities start to creep back into place on tentacles soaked with pitch and tar. Almost unconsciously, I spurned Perseverance into overdrive but caught myself at the last moment. No, you dumb fuck, I scolded myself and willed the Skill back into harmony with Recovery. I¡¯d leaned on bad habits to get me through hell, but I couldn¡¯t cling to them forever. On the back end of my partying years back in my first life, I tried to quit smoking. I was ¡®only a casual smoker¡¯, or so I told people, but kicking the habit took years and a brief stint of unemployment before it stuck. Having to choose between cigarettes and literally all of my other necessities was the final push I needed. This is going to suck, I concluded. ¡°I had not realized your parents were putting so much pressure on you,¡± Lionel noted, breaking me out of my thoughts. ¡°What have they told you, exactly?¡± Wait, what? ¡°I never said that they were putting pressure on me,¡± I countered with a frown. ¡°Well, then I am confused,¡± Lionel admitted. He leaned forward, resting left-palm on left-knee and right-elbow on right-thigh. I¡¯d never actually heard that style of sitting referred to by name before. ¡°Did someone else force you to choose the Skills you did?¡± ¡°No, I made the choices myself after watching Jusep get attacked by the fueha,¡± I replied flatly. I¡¯d already told him that though. That was the point. Circumstances had¡­ had worked against me. ¡­ huh. It sounded less convincing the more I repeated it. Lionel nodded sagely before addressing me again. ¡°Will, do you remember how I promised to treat you with maturity beyond your years?¡± I just nodded. ¡°Good,¡± he said cheerfully before all the friendliness fled his expression. ¡°Everyone doubts their Build eventually. Hear me, Will, in this, you are not special. Fortunately, it means you are also not alone.¡± It took me a few moments to gather the brain function necessary to respond. ¡°... what?¡± ¡°You heard me.¡± He sighed. I saw some of the tension leave his shoulders and heard his voice soften. ¡°If you wish to agonize over that which cannot be changed, I am in no position to stop you. I simply encourage you to consider an alternative.¡± A flash of annoyance threatened to overwhelm my magically restrained temper. ¡°What could you possibly know about my-¡± My Skills flared with renewed force and I caught myself before saying something I¡¯d regret. ¡°Just¡­ listen, Lionel, so far your advice is awful.¡± ¡°A fair critique, I suppose, if a tad preemptive.¡± When I didn¡¯t immediately respond, Lionel carried on. ¡°You have not even let me tell you what the alternative is.¡± He stood up and grabbed another chunk of wood to throw into the fire. I waited for him to continue, but he didn¡¯t. Lionel just sat back across from me and waited until I realized what he wanted. Oh fuck right off. ¡°Can you tell me about the alternative?¡± My delivery was monotone, but it seemed to satisfy Lionel. ¡°I could,¡± he said and let the sentiment hang just long enough for me to wish great violence upon him. ¡°And I will.¡± He chuckled while I angrily tapped my fingers against the side of my leg. ¡°Just make the Skills you already chose become the right choices,¡± he said with a dramatic flourish that bordered on being jazz hands. ¡°... I take it you are not saying Skills can be changed.¡± I had almost hit my limit for verbal diarrhea. Like a dainty old woman presented with a half-empty plate of scones at a tea party, I simply could not handle another morsel. My battered enthusiasm for the conversation was growing increasingly fuelled by spite and a generous application of the sunk-cost fallacy. ¡°In that, you are correct,¡± Lionel replied. ¡°It is a matter of perspective, and I doubt things are as dire as you have led yourself to believe they are. What are your goals that Skills like Taming and Recovery have forever barred you from accomplishing them? Do-¡± He cut himself off, like he¡¯d just realized something. ¡°Is this about your earlier inquiry? You wish to move so fast that it is instantaneous?¡± It was close enough to the truth that I decided to roll with the alibi I¡¯d been handed. Lionel¡¯s line of questioning was starting to touch upon sensitive matters. ¡°It is,¡± I said and Lionel nodded thoughtfully. I could only imagine what conclusions he was drawing. ¡°Did my words earlier dishearten you? Do you, perhaps, regret not choosing a movement Skill because of my insights?¡± Again, not entirely accurate, but close enough. ¡°So what if I do?¡± I asked with more vitriol than the not-answer deserved. ¡°I would be disappointed,¡± Lionel answered with a shrug. ¡°How unfortunate it would be if the young man with Perseverance faltered from a fictional disaster of their own design.¡± ¡°But what if-¡± ¡°What if, what if, what if, what if; do not waste your time on what ifs, for every second is precious.¡± Lionel began to whistle and the flames of the fire began to dance to his tune, quickly growing beyond the realms of the firepit and forming two small humanoid silhouettes. He made a ¡®shooing¡¯ gesture with his hand and stopped whistling, but the sound remained, like he¡¯d magically set his whistle to play on a loop. ¡°Since you responded so well to Mira¡¯s demonstration earlier, perhaps a visual aid is necessary. Here we have two young men, let us call them both ¡®Will¡¯.¡± I rolled my eyes at his complete lack of subtlety. Lionel ignored the gesture. ¡°One of these Wills is going to disregard their Uncle Lionel¡¯s advice.¡± At no point before that moment had anyone pitched the familial moniker for him, and he continued before I could address it. ¡°They will spend their days lamenting lost opportunities.¡± The flame wandered away, walking on the air for a few steps before curling up into a sad ball. The more Lionel spoke, the smaller it got. ¡°They will come to anticipate failure and poor fortune. Soon it will be all they can see.¡± The flame sputtered out. ¡°The other Will is going to spend their days looking to the future.¡± Conversely, this fiery silhouette grew as the story progressed. ¡°They spend their days not only seizing opportunities, but creating them.¡± Fire-Will began flexing dramatically. ¡°There will be no challenge they cannot overcome, because they know that even temporary failures can still lead someone to their goal.¡± The whistling cut off and the flames dissipated, all that remained was the crackling of the campfire. ¡°Which will you be?¡± Just out of sight, one of the horses noisily broke wind, which largely undercut his finale. To his credit, Lionel didn¡¯t even flinch. One cannot help but begrudgingly acknowledge that Lionel had a talent for theatrics. In that, I was no exception. Pride demanded I critique the puppeteered parabel, but I couldn¡¯t. Annoyingly, it¡­ helped. Sure, I already knew the lesson, but sometimes it¡¯s important to get a reminder. I exhaled deeply, letting some of my frustrations out with the breath. ¡°Let it be known, I am pleased to see you are giving my words the consideration they deserve,¡± Lionel commented, perhaps noticing a shift in my countenance. ¡°If I release you from my supervision, are you confident you can find your way back to bed?¡± ¡°Thank you, Lionel,¡± I said honestly. I didn¡¯t bother justifying his other question with an answer as I sprung to my feet. Fudge remained soundly asleep; he hadn¡¯t even stirred when Lionel whistled to the fire. I nudged the tired pup with my toes and he reluctantly stirred enough to stand. ¡°You are welcome, Will.¡± As I turned to leave, a question came to mind, so I hesitated. ¡°What was your regret?¡± I asked. ¡°I was hoping you might muster such an inquiry,¡± he said with an approving nod. ¡°My Core Skill is Music [Whistling]. I was given an opportunity to become a Slayer and be tutored in Spellsong, so it became the focus of my Build.¡± I tilted my head to the side. ¡°That does not sound like a bad thing,¡± I said. ¡°It most certainly is not,¡± Lionel agreed. ¡°But it may surprise you that, among other musicians, I am considered somewhat of a buffoon.¡± He raised a hand to forestall the obvious verbal jab. ¡°And not in the way you might think! They think me foolish for trading a life of crowded taverns, free food, interesting company, and mind-blowing- the point is, my path through life could have taken a drastically different turn.¡± ¡°You regretted learning how to whistle up fire?¡± At first, the idea seemed borderline ludicrous to me, as did the idea of someone whistling their way to a rock star¡¯s lifestyle. ¡°At times. I will not bore you with the reasons I once gave myself to justify it, though. I have long since discarded them.¡± I could make some inferences the more I thought about it. Lionel basically traded relative luxury for a life of tents and fighting monsters. Yeah, I can see how that might inspire some regret on lonely nights. I stifled a shoulder-shaking yawn. Evidently, childish anger was enough to tire me out. Lionel and I bid each other goodnight before Fudge and I returned to my room. There was a lot to do and more to consider, but as I willed my Skills into dormancy I knew it would have to wait until morning. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. Chapter 36 ¡°To what extent does parentage influence a child¡¯s Core Skill? Based on the research accounts I have read, I concluded that there is no correlation. There are some, however, who are adamant that there is. Most are men who regularly insist on conducting additional tests of which they are active participants, so make of that what you will.¡± ~Unknown I awoke to the slamming of a door. The sudden jolt of noise practically launched me out of bed, and I ran to my window in a panic. Our garden partially obstructed my view, but I caught sight of Tina stalking her way over to Lionel¡¯s tent. For all his talk of sleeping under the stars, Lionel eventually took the time to set up the small canvas shelter, barely large enough to fit a grown man. Vigil was tight on Tina¡¯s heels, hackles raised. Oh she is pissed about something, I noted. Shock can be one doozy of a caffeinator. Coupled with a pulse from Recovery I was able to banish the dregs of sleep from my system within seconds. Seized by concern and curiosity in equal turn, I clambered out my window and scurried barefoot through the garden to get a closer look at proceedings. The cool soil on my bare feet was surprisingly pleasant, though I didn¡¯t linger on the sensation. I heard Fudge whine. The thought of him catapulting through the window and shattering glass in a valiant effort to reunite with me forced a momentary delay. I spun on my heel. ¡°Fudge, stay,¡± I intoned the word the way he¡¯d been taught to respond to and- ¡°Lionel! Get out of that tent you shit-encrusted-sheep-anus,¡± I heard Tina snap as she entered the proclaimed sheep-anus¡¯ temporary campsite. Vigil growled to emphasize the demand. That¡¯s a new one, I thought approvingly. Curses and swear words may often be considered crude, but sometimes you want something linguistically filthy to properly articulate your feelings. As much as the brewing conflict concerned me, I couldn''t help but catalog Tina¡¯s colorful choice of words away for later. Perseverance stirred as my mind began to wander, but I clamped down on the Skill. Remember, you do what I say, I warned the personification of my own growing magical ability. Constant, flippant use of the Skill had led to the development of some unfortunate habits. Tragically, I knew I¡¯d eventually torment myself by reviewing every choice I¡¯d made over the last several years. Lionel¡¯s advice from the night before came to mind as I watched him smoothly pull himself out of the low tent, and I used it to clamp down on my thoughts. What¡¯s done is done, I told myself. ¡°I do not normally consider myself the most speak-good when roused so abr- so early,¡± Lionel said through his personal morning fog. He stretched and yawned as he stood, giving no indication that Tina¡¯s presence bothered him. ¡°My coffee stash is limited, but I recall you being fond of the beans and I doubt you can get them regularly around here. Would you like some?¡± I could barely make out the words from my position half-crouched behind a bush. Trying something new, I urged Perseverance to send mana to my ears. I needed to start being more intentional in my use of the Skill. I was in charge, and - according to me - struggling to overhear that conversation was a barrier Perseverance could help me overcome. The Skill whirred to life and sent a steady stream of power down my mana pathways. ¡°Coffee? I come to you furious and you offer me coffee?!¡± Tina sounded incredulous. Much to my pleasant surprise, I could hear her clearly. Her outburst was loud, which helped, but there was a definite clarity to the sound that wasn¡¯t there before. Weird that I¡¯m not hearing the sounds of bugs stomping on the ground, or something, I thought. I had braced myself for some type of sensory adjustment. It was like Perseverance was filtering out the irrelevant sounds. Intent is important, I reminded myself. It was starting to feel like a mantra, but one I was happy to adopt. ¡°You may consider it a final gambit, of sorts,¡± Lionel admitted with spread arms. ¡°If you insist on airing your grievance, why not do so while indulging?¡± He took a moment to run a set of fingers through his hair like a comb. ¡°Consider it a standing offer.¡± Lionel¡¯s tirade made Tina hesitate, but only for a moment. ¡°You¡­ No. Do NOT start with me, Lionel,¡± Tina warned. The way her hand cut through the air to punctuate her points reminded me of an orchestral conductor. ¡°My grievance is that you convinced Tulos to-¡± If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Careful, Tina,¡± Lionel forcefully cut her off, adopting a dangerous tone of his own. ¡°Consider the consequences your accusation might bring before it is unleashed.¡± The pair stared each other down in the tense seconds that followed. All I could hear was the low rumble of a growl coming from Vigil¡¯s chest. ¡°My apologies, Slayer-Lieutenant,¡± Tina used the title like a slur; it provoked a frown from Lionel. ¡°It would be disrespectful to consider your involvement in the so-called-plan my beloved shared with me.¡± Her voice was dripping with acidic sarcasm. Lionel tried to interject, but Tina continued her tirade. ¡°¡®Just try and sleep on it, love,¡¯¡± she gave a poor impression of Tulos¡¯ rumbling bass. ¡°As if I would sleep after being told you plan to take my Will away from me!¡± She escalated in volume as she spoke until she practically screeched the last few words. Well, fuck, I thought numbly. There was a lot to unpack there and even more to question. Now that I was actively cognizant of the more insidious touches of Perseverance, I felt a thin tendril of mana try to steer my thoughts towards actively listening as opposed to reflecting on the information. A flex of my will restrained the Skill, but I took its advice and decided to wait until I had all the facts. I¡¯ve been letting this Skill run on autopilot for too long, I scolded myself again, not wanting to forget my folly. ¡°Tina, I am beginning to suspect you are not yet prepared for logic and simply wish to vent your frustrations at a scapegoat,¡± Lionel said calmly, once again flaunting his apparent disregard for self-preservation. ¡°Before you continue, however, I feel it would be wise to inform you that the ¡®Will¡¯ in question has been eavesdropping on our conversation.¡± Without taking his eyes off of Tina and Vigil he gave a small wave in my direction. Right¡­ I should have seen that coming. Trying to sneak up on the man with sound-based Skills and magic was a doomed venture from the get go. I stood up from my hiding place and waved back. There was no sense in hiding. Honestly, if not for the emotion-induced tunnel vision, Tina probably would have noticed me as well. ¡°Hi, mom,¡± I called weakly. *** The situation eventually came to an uneasy resolution. Tina scolded me for disrespecting her privacy, which I begrudgingly accepted. Pointing out that people who shouted outdoors often forfeited their privacy would have done me exactly zero good. Besides, I was technically being a little sneaky, I reflected at the time. I say sneaky instead of roguish since my bumbling attempt at subterfuge lacked the requisite panache. Under my supervision, Tina¡¯s reignited frustration slowly fizzled out without an immediate outlet. Tulos was quick to join everyone outside after the commotion, his clothing in disarray from having rushed into it. This reignited another round of tense, if restrained, exchanges, and I concluded that my presence was the only thing maintaining the fragile peace. The problem is, that leaves me with sweet fuck-all regarding this ¡®me being taken away¡¯ business, I thought bitterly. ¡°Can someone please explain the situation to me,¡± I eventually snapped when Tina had the audacity to refer to something as the ¡®you know what¡¯ in front of me. ¡°Your blatant obs- obfu-¡± I couldn¡¯t remember the word. ¡°Your trickery is annoying me!¡± Their repetitive ¡®he-said-she-said¡¯ conversation came to a halt as all eyes focused on me. Perhaps predictably, it was Lionel who spoke up first. ¡°The word you are thinking of is obfuscation,¡± he said helpfully, but not in the way I wanted. ¡°For the record,¡± he added, this time addressing Tulos and Tina. ¡°I say we inform young Will regarding the delicate nature of his situation.¡± ¡°Does this have something to do with Perseverance?¡± I asked, knowing that my Core Skill had always been a covert subject in our household. ¡°I have told Will a portion of my history,¡± Tulos said by way of explanation when Lionel raised an eyebrow at my question. ¡°That explains it then,¡± Lionel accepted the answer with a nod. The action tilted his eyes towards Vigil, who remained at Tina¡¯s side, and elicited another growl from the protective dog. The thought made me look back towards my window. Fudge had hopped onto his back legs and was resting his front ones on the windowsill to keep an eye on proceedings. Cute. As. Fuck, I quickly noted, content that he wouldn¡¯t cause any immediate issues. ¡°I do not like this,¡± Tina said flatly, but she didn¡¯t otherwise object. ¡°Thanks, mom,¡± I said, wanting to encourage future honesty. ¡°Not knowing would have made me feel like there were bugs in my stomach.¡± I did my best to appear adorable and filter my words through a slightly more childish lens. It earned me a small smile from her, which I considered a success. Tulos cleared his throat. ¡°Will, do you remember when I told you about how I was sent to The Crown? Well, not sent, because I technically-¡± ¡°Yes, dad, I remember,¡± I cut Tulos off before he started rambling, holding up both hands like he was a startled barnyard animal I was trying to sedate. Lionel and Tina both chuckled at my reaction, earning the former an annoyed look from the latter. Dude gets glared at a lot, I noted. ¡°What I did not tell you was that, even if your grandparents wanted to keep me around, had The Crown discovered my Core Skill they would have taken me anyway.¡± It was remarkably succinct by Tulos¡¯ standards, and it didn¡¯t take long for me to realize the implications. Life was about to get a lot more complicated. Totally-Legit Side Chapter: Vigil You have, unfortunately, died. Normally, this would be a tragedy. Some people might feel remorse at the sudden loss. The loss of life. The loss of opportunity. The loss of connection. Not you. You¡¯ve been waiting for this moment. When a person sees a massive truck approaching a set of traffic lights, only a moron wouldn¡¯t see it for the opportunity it was. Sure, the responsible driver tried to brake. Justifiably, you had to tuck and roll into the first pair of the sixteen wheels before the vehicle lost too much momentum. The only thing that mattered was the end result. ¡°Eyooo, fam, good job with the Truck-kun thing,¡± a voice snaps your attention back to the present. You¡¯re reclining in a comfortable bean bag chair suspended in a white void. Across from you, similarly seated, sits a scruffy-looking man wearing a silk bathrobe and single sock. You know this must be a deity of some type. ¡°Got it in one,¡± the man - let¡¯s call him ¡®Probably-God¡¯ - replied. ¡°We both know I already know the answer to this, but I take it you want the Isekai-special?¡± Probably-God was, naturally, correct. You tell them as much, specifying that you want a world with a System. You know how video games work, so naturally it¡¯ll be an easy path to power for you. ¡°Bet,¡± replied Probably-God after conjuring an iced-tea with a flick of their hand. Condensation dripped down the glass as they took a long drink from it. ¡°One problem though, I¡¯ve decided to do the whole transmigration-thing with you instead.¡± You frown. That isn¡¯t what you expected. You shift your weight and the bean bag chair shifts with you. Suddenly, it feels significantly less comfortable. ¡°You¡¯ll just have to make the best of it,¡± Probably-God said with a shrug, cutting off your complaints. ¡°Good luck, dawg.¡± Before you can say anything else, Probably-God snaps their fingers and your world goes dark. There is a shift, and suddenly your awareness returns to you. Your eyes flicker open and you find yourself curled up on the ground. Your head is resting on a cool, wooden floor and your tail is- Tail. Yup. You take a moment to get your bearings and, sure enough, you are in the body of a large dog. In the back of your mind, you feel something stir. You quickly deduce that it is a magical connection of sorts, because you¡¯re good at logical thinking. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. With a flex of your willpower, you call up a System window.
Eyooo, Probably-God here, I hijacked this world¡¯s System for you. I still have to give you your Cheat Abilities and whatnot.
Beneath the notification, you also see the details of your current existence. You¡¯re in a dog named Vigil and literally have a Skill named Dog. There are no attribute points or classes that you can see, so that¡¯s the first thing you decide to change. For good measure, you also have Probably-God max out all your statistics as the change is forcefully wrought upon the world. You hear a chorus of voices around the house call out in shock as the rules of their System change, but they¡¯re speaking some weird language you cannot understand. Probably-God quickly hits you up with an Omniglot Skill so that you can listen in to their complaints. ¡°Tulos, love, what is happening?¡± A woman¡¯s voice runs into the room to check on you as she calls out to someone. In her arms is a young kid who you immediately recognize as being a reincarnated person from your world. There is something in his eyes that lets you logically deduce their identity. Your complaints to Probably-God for having to share the world with someone else from Earth garner a quick response.
I gotchu, fam.
With a flex of your now-maxxed Magic Attribute, you impose your will upon the world and make up a spell on the fly. You were able to intuit the way magic worked almost instantly. Your dog-like body morphed, turning into your idealized version of yourself. For giggles, you decide to keep the dog ears and tail, at least for a time. ¡°Vigil! What is happening, what-¡± You tell Tina to hush, and she does, completely entranced by how amazing you are. You conclude that you could probably add her to a harem later, if you decide to roll with one. That is a problem for later, though. Probably-God told you that the kid - Will - wanted to get back to their original life. You tell them you are happy to oblige and call upon your new magics to portal that kid back to obscurity. Tina starts to freak out, but you use your magic to erase her memories of the kid which shuts her up. You hear the sound of heavy footsteps coming into the room and launch a death-beam into the oncoming man. Better to be safe than sorry and remove any possible chance of retribution. To do otherwise would be foolish.
Aight, fam, looks like you¡¯re all set. Holla¡¯ if you need anything.
You decide you¡¯re going to enjoy your second life. Chapter 37 ¡°Without the assistance of Skills and the allure of Advancement, many jobs necessary for society to run would be truly dreadful. With that in mind, it is an interesting thought experiment, I think, to imagine what life would be like without The System.¡± ~Unknown After briefly excusing myself to go and fetch Fudge, who had become vocally dissatisfied with their relative exclusion in proceedings, I was given insight into the apparent drama surrounding my Core Skill. Obviously, I never doubted that there were layers to my life obfuscated from me due to my age. That was simply the way of things when raising a child. It ultimately boiled down to the fueha incident. As if it hadn¡¯t been damaging enough. I gathered that Hwan was unable to continue hiding my Core Skill due to the obligations of his role. When the relevant report passed beneath the ambitious eyes of an accomplished Capital kiss-ass, interested parties would be informed of my existence. Then, through some obscure technicality, I would be conveniently conscripted and whisked away. Naturally, I had questions. First and foremost, I asked why such extensive details were included in incident reports. I wish I hadn¡¯t. Increasingly exhausting webs of bureaucracy became necessary for those Skilled in the subject to adequately challenge themselves, hence, more paperwork. It was worse in The Capital proper. One of Tina¡¯s brothers once had to apply for a temporary trading license. The sheer, mind-numbing pedantry involved was truly daunting. I lost track of the anecdote around the time she mentioned how one of the sections required specific, ambient humidity conditions in a designated room during the signing process to be considered valid. Don¡¯t want to wait for nature and instead artificially adjust the humidity of a room for signing purposes? That requires its own application. A new fear was unlocked that day. The terrifying prospect of having to endure that kind of torture rooted itself deep into my psyche. Scribes, lawyers, and all manner of professionals Skilled in navigating the ink-stained depths of bureaucracy offered their services to those who required guidance. Naturally, they charged a fee for their trouble but it was one I would happily pay in the future if I had the need and the means. ¡°That sounds awful,¡± I eventually commented, earning a laugh from Lionel. ¡°With every fiber of my being, Will, let me assure you that it is.¡± True to his earlier bribe, Lionel spent some time boiling water while Tina explained the horrors of bureaucracy. Coffee grounds were stuffed into what looked like a baby-sized sock before the hot water was filtered through it. It wasn¡¯t barista quality technology, but it got the job done, and soon the inviting aroma of coffee infused the air. Oh sweet System how I have missed you, I thought as I got my first good whiff of that sweet ambrosia. ¡°It seems we have gotten sidetracked,¡± Tulos interjected. He¡¯d taken the time to haul his favorite stump over to sit on while everyone talked. ¡°True enough,¡± Lionel admitted. ¡°Tina, would you-¡± ¡°Yes. Definitely. Please,¡± she cut him off, not taking her eyes off of the brew. The fire of her frustration had been all but smothered once Lionel¡¯s peace offering transitioned from hypothetical to tangible. Her initial objections were washed away beneath the fragrant tide of- Fuck, I miss coffee, I realized when my thoughts on the matter grew increasingly poetic. Not good poetic, either, more like ¡®teenager-experimenting-with-love-sonnets¡¯ poetic. ¡°Can I have some?¡± I asked innocently, hoping I didn¡¯t look too desperate. ¡°No, young Will, you may not,¡± Lionel shot me down quickly. ¡°The coffee beans I procured were Skill-grown for my personal consumption. Should you consume the resulting brew, I suspect you may never sleep soundly again.¡± I frowned. ¡°Mom, is that-¡± ¡°Sorry, my Will, but Lionel is right.¡± Tina seized a metallic mug from Lionel and took a slow sip from the steaming coffee within. Her sigh of pleasure at the experience was like a slap to the face. ¡°This also means your mother may be similarly energized,¡± the mischievous Slayer added in a stage whisper. ¡°Alas, she is an adult and thus spared the practical guidance of her elders in this instance.¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Tina just mumbled happily into her drink. ¡°Like I was saying,¡± Tulos repeated. ¡°Sidetracked.¡± Vigil was busy distracting Fudge who had decided that he wanted to play with the older dog. After a tumble, Fudge¡¯s left ear flopped over his head and got stuck that way, an amusing phenomenon that had been happening increasingly often. I took a moment to call up his Skill summary and noted that he¡¯d already gained a few proficiency points in Dog from their play-wrestling. Guidance from a teacher definitely makes a difference, I noted. ¡°I think I understand so far,¡± I said to appease Tulos. I could tell the conversation had him on edge. After so many years, I¡¯d grown more adept at reading his often subtle body language. Given Tina¡¯s initial attitude, I could empathize. ¡°I am just not sure how Uncle Lionel fits into all of this,¡± I continued. Tina almost choked on her drink when I repeated the familial moniker offered the previous night, much to Lionel¡¯s amusement. For all his eccentricities, I wanted Lionel in my corner. ¡°Is he going to be the one to take me to The Crown, or¡­¡± I trailed off. ¡°Over my dead-¡± ¡°Love, now is not the time to argue this point,¡± Tulos interrupted abruptly. It was a noteworthy occurrence only because of how rare it was, like spotting a unicorn playing chess with a dodo. Tina scowled but, after a tense moment, relented. I¡¯d once reflected on the weight of Tulos¡¯ words given their scarcity and suspected I was witnessing another microcosm of that phenomenon. Tulos gathered his thoughts and continued. ¡°You can consider Lionel-¡± ¡°Ahem!¡± The man in question loudly cleared his throat. ¡°You can consider Uncle Lionel to be our backup plan.¡± Tulos pinched the bridge of his nose as if reconsidering the wisdom of requesting Lionel¡¯s involvement. ¡°I shall not bore you with the technicalities, but The Slayers and The Crown have an understanding,¡± Lionel picked up the dangling explanation. ¡°Part of that understanding involves some special rules for recruitment.¡± Just like that, I had enough pieces of the puzzle. ¡°So I could become a Slayer, like you, if I do not want to be taken by The Crown?¡± Just because I had a solid idea of the situation didn¡¯t mean that I shouldn¡¯t verify. Lionel nodded in the affirmative, and I frowned. ¡°So the plan to save me from being conscripted by one group is to have me recruited by another?¡± A look of pure vindication spread over Tina¡¯s face as I expressed my doubts, meanwhile Lionel just laughed. ¡°Honestly, should young Will decide to try his luck with The Crown they might end up sending him back.¡± He tapped the side of his temple. ¡°Their preference is for the dull so that they may be deliberately sharpened.¡± ¡°Can we all take a moment to appreciate that even a child can see how flimsy your scheme is?¡± Tina goaded before hoisting me off the ground. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and kept me up there. I am getting a bit too big for this, I noted, but Tina didn¡¯t seem bothered. I suspected it was a strategic play on her part to make us look like a unified front. ¡°Again, if you have a better plan, I am open to suggestions,¡± Tulos said flatly. When Tina didn¡¯t immediately respond I realized what the crux of the matter was. Rock, meet hard-place. ¡°There are no better plans, are there?¡± I asked, and again it was Lionel who spoke up first. ¡°Unfortunately, no. Your Core Skill comes with certain advantages, but those advantages also have a cost.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Such is the way of the world, young Will. Unfortunate that you have to be exposed to it at such a tender age, but again, life is not always fair and just.¡± ¡°System, Lionel, have some tact. He is still a boy,¡± Tina snapped. ¡°He is also a potential Slayer candidate,¡± LIonel rebutted. ¡°To deny him the truth would be to do him a disservice. So that we may stop dancing around the issue, I will endeavor to make it clear. Will, there exists a possibility, however slim, that your Skills go unnoticed by The Crown. In this instance, you may live out the rest of your childhood without interruption. ¡°The far more likely outcome is that, sometime within the next several years, you will be forced to choose between accepting Crown conscription or - potentially - Slayer recruitment. I cannot speak for the former but, should you choose the latter, you will be trained to seek out and eliminate the myriad Beasts that roam The Inner Rings.¡± Lionel let out a small huff and took a steadying breath. ¡°That is, of course, an oversimplification, but for the sake of brevity it will suffice.¡± Well, fuck, I thought. Neither option seemed particularly attractive, if only because I wasn¡¯t interested in getting tied down for the rest of my life. Still¡­ I could see the merits in the situation. A professional education and access to knowledge would go a long way towards my investigation of the Unnamed Skill. All advantages have a cost, I suppose, I repeated Lionel¡¯s wisdom to myself. ¡°You seem stunned,¡± Lionel observed. ¡°Take solace in the knowledge that you still have time. Even workers Skilled in bureaucracy have a backlog. It would not be bureaucracy, otherwise.¡± I felt Perseverance stir within my core space, offering me a helpful reminder. The second I chose the Skill, knowingly or not, I committed to a life of seeking challenging situations. I drew from the Skill to settle my nerves, mindful not to take more than I needed. Slayers, The Crown, or something else entirely. Either way, they would inevitably contribute to the growth of my Skills. Much of the future was uncertain, but my progression was not. I had to believe that much. Chapter 38 ¡°Every morning, I review my System window; sort of like a morning ritual to prepare myself to face the day. Every evening, I review it again before I go to sleep. I have often wondered if I could gain proficiency points in my dreams. Thus far, I believe the answer is no, but it is a fun experiment to maintain just in case. There are few who would oppose additional data points so easily gained.¡± ~Unknown In my experience, the problem with uncertain futures was that they made logistics a bitch. My current situation was no exception. Short of forcing the issue - which would defeat the purpose of our concerns - there was no way of knowing precisely when I would face conscription. Probing Lionel with additional questions revealed that, when children were targeted, they would essentially experience forced enrollment into an education stream. Service to The Crown would come when they reached their sixteenth year, this culture¡¯s threshold for adulthood. I had mixed feelings about that particular revelation. For me, an earlier transition from boy to man would be beneficial given my circumstances. Still, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a pang of sympathy for my peers, though I doubted they¡¯d appreciate it. In my experience, 16-year-olds were seldom prepared to shoulder the responsibilities of adulthood. It was a viewpoint cultivated in a world surrounded by relative luxury, where my exposure to the horrors of reality were filtered through the screen on a smartphone. I wasn¡¯t ignorant. I knew that, for many, maintaining one¡¯s childhood and adolescence for sixteen years would seem like an impossibility in less privileged places. Who was I to critique a whole society based on my old sensibilities? Adopting a ¡®wait and see¡¯ stance was the best we could manage, which heralded the end of the conversation. There were chores to be taken care of, and Tina dragged Fudge and I with her to the kennel. Losing myself in the work, I spent time musing over the ways I¡¯d changed and was continuing to change. Perseverance regularly stirred, but instead of using the mana to push those difficult thoughts away I seized it for a different purpose. I had to let myself feel those things and keep feeling them even when it sucked. Hiding from reality forever wouldn¡¯t do me any good. *** It was another two days before Pix and Mira returned, wearing the marks of rough travel that dusted their faces and stained their clothes. I politely refrained from commenting on the metaphorical miasma of exertion that tickled my nostrils when they drew near. Their packs were noticeably thinner, lacking the overfilled bulges from before their excursion. There wasn¡¯t any real fanfare for their return, though I caught Lionel sharing a hushed exchange with the both of them. I strained my eyes to look for clues as to what transpired while they were away, but there was nothing overt to decipher, which limited the scope of my deductions. Pix¡¯s spear was absent of blood, but I knew that could be attributed to disciplined weapon maintenance just as much as it could a lack of use. Probably. I wasn¡¯t an expert on the subject. The pair took a brief respite to bathe with water drawn from our well. While Tina tended to their clothes, Lionel prepared the horses for travel. He moved with an air of practiced efficiency, occasionally whistling at a far-off item only to have it fly into his outstretched hand. It was an odd feeling, watching him work. After the excitement of his first day with us, Lionel¡¯s presence began to feel like a natural addition to our little family. He worked with Tulos during the day and the comfortable rhythm the pair fell into as they shared conversation in the evening made it easy to feel like things were always that way. Tina shared barbs with the man that grew increasingly good natured and he always humored my questions. He even offered to show me how to care for the horses, perhaps suspecting my affinity for Fudge extended to other animals. I was able to avoid that nightmare by committing to a different activity with Tina. And now he¡¯s going to leave, the thought came unannounced. I didn¡¯t like how it made me feel. *** ¡°Tulos, I have need of you and your son,¡± Lionel called to us shortly after he finished checking all the various saddle straps and buckles for what was at least the third time. Mira and Pix were still taking care of their own preparations. It didn¡¯t escape my notice that they were functionally ignoring everyone who wasn¡¯t Lionel while they prepared to leave. Given how vibrant they were upon their arrival, I assumed something must have been responsible for their sudden, overt professionalism. Without much more to do, Tulos and I were quick to acquiesce and the three of us wandered towards Tulos¡¯ work shed. I felt a faint discomfort through my bond with Fudge, who was officially confined to the kennel for a day. Tina had warned me that she¡¯d randomly assign me no-Fudge days as a sort of training-aide, but it still sucked. In this, I found Perseverance to be a boon. ¡°Before I depart, I have words of wisdom and a gift to bestow,¡± Lionel said once we were far enough away from everyone to secure a modicum of privacy. He was wearing a leather satchel over his shoulder that wasn¡¯t part of his usual wardrobe. ¡°Are you prepared to receive them?¡± ¡°Is anyone ever prepared to ¡®receive your words of wisdom?¡¯¡± I asked skeptically, prompting a snicker from Tulos. He reached down and I felt him ruffle my hair. My head fit comfortably in the palm of his calloused hand. Heck, most people¡¯s heads fit comfortably in the palm of Tulos¡¯ hand. Lionel gasped and pressed a hand to his chest. ¡°Young Will, you wound my delicate ego-¡± a scoff from Tulos and I cut him off mid reprimand and we all shared a laugh. ¡°I shall take our shared merriment as confirmation. ¡°First, the words of wisdom: do not grow lax.¡± I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the obvious advice before he elaborated. ¡°To that end, Will, I have assigned your father a quest of sorts and it is important you help him accomplish it.¡± I assumed Lionel¡¯s choice of words were a symptom of his usual flair for extravagance and not a reference to quests as a function of The System. I¡¯d checked everything from Quests to Titles to Achievements when I first witnessed that blue screen flicker into existence. I never got a response. Though in hindsight, the way Skill Augmentations work could kind-of be considered Achievement-adjacent¡­ Before I could devote any more attention to the thought, Tulos spoke up. ¡°Lionel¡­¡± There was a hurt in the words left unsaid. Lionel at least had the good sense to look abashed. ¡°Tulos, you and I both know that accountability is an important motivator.¡± Lionel turned his focus to me. ¡°Will, your father promised he is going to begin teaching you the basic forms taught in the Sentrodah Military Academy. It is important you help him keep that promise, understand?¡± I had many questions, so I started with something simple. ¡°Sentrodah?¡± I asked. Lionel looked legitimately surprised by the question. ¡°We normally call it ¡®The Capital¡¯,¡± Tulos said, answering my question and forestalling Lionel¡¯s. ¡°Right. The Capital. That makes sense¡­¡± I let myself trail off. ¡°Will, you still need to answer me,¡± Lionel offered a gentle reminder. ¡°Can you help your father keep his promise?¡± He took a step forward and fell into a squat so that he could look me in the eye. Stolen novel; please report. ¡°I can, but¡­¡± ¡°But what?¡± ¡°Dad does not fight anymore,¡± I said bluntly, addressing the elephant in the room; or the elephant in the area outside of Tulos¡¯ shed, rather. My eyes flicked towards the wickedly brutal battle axe leaning against our splitting stump, a monument to Tulos¡¯ past. ¡°He will not be fighting,¡± Lionel replied matter-of-factly. ¡°He will be teaching. There is a distinct difference, of that I can assure you.¡± I looked over to Tulos who wore his lips in a tight line. I deduced he wasn¡¯t thrilled by the prospect, but neither was he objecting to it. That only leaves one problem. ¡°I was not planning on taking a weapon-related Skill.¡± It was the truth. Part of the reason I wanted a dog like Vigil or Fudge was to avoid getting close and personal with violence as much as possible. Lionel¡¯s next words shattered that delusion. ¡°Neither do I, but I still know my way around a few of the most common forms.¡± he said smoothly and shrugged before continuing. ¡°All Slayers do. Even without a relevant Skill - and in your case Perseverance would still be considered a relevant Skill by the slimmest of margins - using mana to deliver a powerful stab or thrust can be lifesaving last-resort. A dreadful waste of mana, but lifesaving.¡± I hated that I couldn¡¯t argue with that logic. Better to have something and not need it than need it and not have it. I normally heard the expression used in regards to things like sweaters on a cold day, but it felt fitting. ¡°You are still too young for anything too complex,¡± Tulos reassured me. ¡°Like Uncle Lionel said, we will only practice the basics.¡± I found it endearing that he¡¯d already incorporated Lionel¡¯s self-granted familial title into his vernacular. ¡°Does mom know about this?¡± I had other questions, of course, but those could wait until Tulos decided to actually ¡®train¡¯ me. For me, the concept of martial training was usually reserved for fiction in my first life, so it was almost surreal to consider it earnestly. Perhaps ironically, I knew precious little about real world examples of the practice, like in sports, law enforcement or the military. My question was greeted by silence, which told me everything I needed to know. ¡°That is a discussion sacred to the three of you as a family unit,¡± Lionel said sheepishly, shamelessly discarding his position as an honorary member of the family when it suited him. ¡°I would consider it prudent to have it after my companions and I are but mere flecks on the horizon.¡± I could understand his reservations. Lionel clapped once to refocus our attention. ¡°With that business behind us, I can distribute the gifts I prepared.¡± The way he excitedly brandished his satchel brought to mind a homebrand Santa Claus, just with less of a gut and a much shorter beard. Lionel withdrew an intricate scroll case from the bag. I noticed strange markings etched into the high quality leather; a type of script that reminded me of Japanese Kanji at a glance. After a brief expression of force, Lionel removed the lid with an audible pop. Perhaps predictably, the scroll case contained a scroll. It was not written on paper, but on pale vellum with purplish undertones. It looked roughly the width of a standard legal pad, though it had been so long since I¡¯d seen one that I doubted my estimation was precise. ¡°Lionel, is that¡­¡± Tulos trailed off, leaving the question unspoken. ¡°It most certainly is and I will not expose my delicate ears to any complaints or disputes on the matter,¡± Lionel replied cheerfully. Perhaps noticing my confused expression, he offered an explanation before I had to ask for one. ¡°This, young Will, is a Mirrorscroll.¡± Carefully, Lionel partially unfurled the object in question so that he could show me its interior. Around the borders, written in densely packed script, were more of those strange markings. It might have been a trick of the eye, but they appeared to shimmer as the light caught them, despite seemingly being penned in ink. If I were a gambling man, I¡¯d wager I was looking at Spellscript. Groggy memories of my sleep-deprived scramble to manage the Core Skill selection flashed through my mind in response to the thought. ¡°Naturally, I have the paired scroll,¡± Lionel added as an aside to Tulos before continuing his explanation. ¡°Anything written on one scroll appears on the other.¡± ¡°How many words are they good for?¡± Tulos asked, his eyes glued to the magical item. ¡°On the high end? Thousands.¡± Tulos¡¯ lips formed a thin line in response to the number. ¡°Lionel, you cannot-¡± ¡°I most certainly can, and I already have,¡± Lionel cut off the complaint. I inferred that the gift must have been ridiculously expensive to garner that kind of response. ¡°I expect regular updates regarding young Will¡¯s progress and other general goings-on.¡± That is so freaking cool, I thought as my eyes traced the length of the scroll case, desperate to decipher its secrets. Thus far, the magical language of - presumably - Spellscript seemed to be the most directly System-adjacent Skill I¡¯d been exposed to. Magical screens with words, magical Skill with words¡­ I mean, it¡¯s the best I¡¯ve got for now. Honestly, it wasn¡¯t the most sound logic, but it was something. After passing the scroll case to Tulos, which made it look significantly smaller than it was, Lionel reached back into his satchel and retrieved a loose stack of paper. Paper was a commodity in Elbura, and Hwan hoarded most of it for his legislative duties. Most of the paper we bought from traveling merchants was an off-white colour and freckled with irregularities. The paper Lionel had was perfect. It was impossibly white and cut into uniform, travel-sized sheets. ¡°Here, I took the time to jot down some internal mana exercises like we talked about,¡± Lionel said as he offered me the stack. The paper didn¡¯t buckle beneath its own weight and remained rigid even as a faint gust of wind blew through the field. Days prior, when I asked Lionel about using his whistling to train my Skills, I was disappointed to be turned down. ¡°I do believe your mother would quite literally destroy me,¡± had been his justification. I wanted to dispute the reasoning, but I couldn¡¯t find fault with it. Instead, after asking about Recovery and how I might use it to improve what was effectively my ¡®mana regeneration¡¯, Lionel told me he¡¯d think of a way to help me. Evidently, the miniature primer was his answer. It may have been hastily constructed, but I knew I would cherish it. Wild then, that I am more enraptured by the paper, I thought as I stared down at the bundle in my hands. ¡°Who made this paper? It¡¯s¡­ beautiful.¡± I had to ask. Something about the craftsmanship demanded appreciation. It was almost like- A quick flash of mana from Perseverance and Recovery banished the unnatural fascination from my mind. It wasn¡¯t even remotely comparable to Lionel¡¯s magic in intensity, but something about the paper was alluring in a way that was not natural. ¡°There is a subsidiary Slayer who makes our paper,¡± Lionel half-answered after a brief chuckle. ¡°Information is valuable to our responsibilities, so a reliable source of recording implements became a priority for us decades ago. Perhaps you shall meet them one day.¡± It wasn¡¯t the most inspired sales-pitch, but damn if it didn¡¯t get me curious. ¡°Is it meant to be so¡­¡± I tried to think of a less crass way to ask if it was meant to fuck with my mind. ¡°An unfortunate side-effect of their methods, but one easily ignored for most,¡± Lionel answered, having caught on to my implied meaning. I was once again reminded that for every answer I received it birthed a dozen new questions. *** There were no other world-shattering revelations or treasures shared, and the brief window of time we¡¯d seized for private farewells quickly closed. Tulos and Lionel hugged. I got my hair ruffled. Again. ¡°Remember, I have high expectations,¡± Lionel reminded us before we reluctantly returned to the others. In the grand scheme of things, I¡¯d barely gotten to know Lionel. Even so, as he turned his back to return to Pix and Mira, I realized I was going to miss him. The realization stung more than it should have and I flared Perseverance to give myself room to consider the implications. Farewells are evidently a sensitive subject for me now, I concluded before letting the mana taper off. I¡¯ll add it to the pile of shit to work through, I guess, I told myself in an effort to remain optimistic. Pix and Mira shared polite farewells as they mounted their horses. Mira took the time to give me a little wave before she guided the big-fuck-off-giant-lad she was riding to turn onto the road. Lionel and Pix were quick to follow her lead. Just like that, they were leaving. Fuck it, I thought when I came to the decision to indulge in some childish honesty. ¡°Safe travels, Uncle Lionel! We¡¯ll miss you!¡± I called out. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the act of sharing my feelings on the matter made me feel a little better. I felt Recovery hum its agreement in the back of my awareness. Chapter 39 ¡°Environmental pressures can absolutely impact cultural Builds. I have spoken often of my time in the North, where Resistance [Cold] - or some variation - is understandably common. Strangely, there are some who also view it as a sign of weakness. Without resorting to extremes, progression in the Skill will inevitably stagnate. To seek comfort is to reject hardship, and without hardship you cannot grow, or so they say.¡± ~Unknown The arrival of Lionel and the other Slayers represented a change, a glimpse at something grander than my comparatively simple life. Strange how a return to the mundane can feel so jarring. Stranger, perhaps, that I¡¯d come to consider my usual day-to-day experiences in a world with literal magic as ¡®the mundane¡¯. I¡¯d once read somewhere that people¡¯s childhoods seem so dense in their recollections since they are filled with - at the time - new experiences. Once we fall into our adulthood routines, the days, weeks, months and eventually years all start to blur together. There were aspects of my new life that were new and exciting, of course, but I lacked the genuine childlike wonder that could turn everyday into an adventure. Instead, I focused on the highlights. *** ¡°We should ask Bella and Jusep if they want to get lessons from dad as well.¡± It had been almost a week after Lionel¡¯s departure when I voiced the idea. Tulos, Tina and I were having dinner while Fudge and Vigil lay sprawled out on the floor. Neither were under any illusions about the chance of being fed from the table¡­ not while there were other witnesses, at least. It was like my question sucked all the air from the room. Tulos and Tina were silent as they mulled over the implications of my request. ¡°That might not be wise,¡± Tulos said carefully. ¡°Bella might be able to participate, but Jusep¡­¡± Tina gave a small nod of agreement. ¡°I think it is most important that we invite Jusep,¡± I said, not willing to back down before they heard my case. ¡°Learning from dad is going to help me feel safer. Jusep probably needs that even more than I do.¡± I could scarcely fathom how that kid¡¯s experience with the fueha was going to influence him. It should be noted that my relative lack of tact was a deliberate choice, since I still wasn¡¯t sure what the prosthetic or mobility options for Jusep were. Worst case, I figured Jusep had a working arm and could probably translate his Core Skill into some overlap with Weapons [Knife], or something, if he felt compelled to take a self-defense Skill. That and I still haven¡¯t been allowed to go and visit, I thought bitterly. I could empathize with Jusep¡¯s parents, even if I didn¡¯t agree with their stance on the issue. They wanted to protect their son, but my tenuous grasp of psychology suggested that isolating Jusep in the wake of his injury would not be doing him any favors. Realistically, I knew that getting Jusep involved in Tulos¡¯ lessons would be a hard sell. Even without the fueha incident adding fuel to the metaphorical fire, Costa held little regard for Tulos. Jusep¡¯s situation provided loose justification for him to double-down on that disdain, and people would be more inclined to be sympathetic to that perspective. Tina balanced her wooden spoon over the steaming bowl of stew in front of her. ¡°It is good you want to help your friend,¡± Tina said gently. ¡°It is not our decision to make, though.¡± That¡¯s more or less what I expected. She practically echoed my concerns back to me, and despite my best efforts I hadn¡¯t been able to conceive of a realistic way to overcome them. My best idea was to pass the problem on to someone else. ¡°Can you ask Hwan to try?¡± Over the years, I¡¯d overheard enough to conclude that the older man¡¯s opinion carried a lot of weight in the community. Lionel even revealed that he was the first point of contact for the Slayers before they moved on to us, as a matter of protocol. If anyone could get Jusep¡¯s parents to relent, it was Hwan. ¡°Well¡­ we can ask. There is no real harm in that,¡± Tulos slowly agreed. ¡°Thanks, dad,¡± I said earnestly. Working through the cognitive mountain of shit I¡¯d let accumulate in my mind was now an important part of my daily routine. Even with the help of Perseverance and Recovery, it was rough going. Rough going, but necessary if I ever wanted to find some type of closure. Reaching out to Jusep felt like an important part of that process. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. The fueha incident was a tragedy, but still nothing compared to the loss of my first life. A selfish perspective, certainly, but an honest one. I concluded that working through the former would help me come to terms with the latter. After that¡­ I¡¯d have to reevaluate some things. I just wasn¡¯t brave enough to acknowledge them yet. *** ¡°Watch me tumble, Daddy!¡± Bella shouted at Figuelo as she tucked into a forward roll. Despite Jusep¡¯s parents continuing to avoid us, Bella¡¯s had been surprisingly enthusiastic to involve their daughter in Tulos¡¯ lessons. Once a week, Bella and one of her parents would come to spend the day with us. I noticed that they were still wary to leave her alone, but given everything that had happened I could understand the caution. Today it was Figuelo, and he applauded his daughter¡¯s efforts as she rolled through the grass. ¡°Your turn, Will!¡± Bella called back to me between happy-giggles at her success. When Lionel reassured me that Tulos would be starting with the basics, he wasn¡¯t kidding. Most of what we¡¯d been learning reminded me of child¡¯s gymnastics or junior athletics carnivals. Running, jumping, balancing, tumbling, climbing and a whole list of other foundational coordination skills were the focus of our ¡®curriculum¡¯. We were basically learning how to move our bodies, which sounds ridiculous out of context. Trust the process, I told myself as I replicated Bella¡¯s feat. I felt the grass brush against my exposed arms as the world spun around me. In my first life, I wasn¡¯t exactly a prime physical specimen. I transitioned from a chubby kid into a chubby adult and more or less lingered in that bracket with the occasional fluctuation. I wasn¡¯t a guy who could flip or tumble. If I am being honest with myself, I couldn¡¯t even remember ever being capable of doing a chin-up. Between the lack of processed junk food, online distractions, and living a less sedentary lifestyle, I was in the best shape I¡¯d ever been in, which in hindsight was honestly a little bit depressing. Regardless, I wanted to take advantage of the momentum I had. With Perseverance and Recovery bolstering my efforts, there was no reason I couldn¡¯t shoot for a healthy physique this time around. Tulos¡¯ teaching style was minimalist, which suited him. He¡¯d give an instruction, demonstrate it once, then watch as we practiced. When we needed a correction, he¡¯d give one. For children, it was effective. Bella wouldn¡¯t have had the patience to listen to a more in-depth explanation, and I had enough insight into the situation to not need one. Instead of a fantasy training montage, I got what was effectively a structured playdate. Honestly, I don¡¯t know why I was expecting anything else. As I pulled out of the roll and sprang to my feet, Bella cheered. She cheered every single time. She was having fun, at least. *** Jusep¡¯s parents continued to stonewall us. What little we were able to glean from the local grapevine amounted to general pleasantries. Jusep was ¡®doing better¡¯ or ¡®recovering¡¯. I shamelessly tried recruiting Zetta to dig deeper into the situation for me, going so far as to call her Auntie Zetta as part of the attempt. ¡°Well you are just a little sweet potato!¡± She¡¯d gotten into the habit of likening people to produce. Tina and I were visiting her to help plan her marriage ceremony, by which I mean Tina was helping while I listened in. Zetta¡¯s cottage was always an overwhelming sensory experience; bright colors and intense odors abounded. Zetta grew specialty plants that she worked into dyes and pigments. Thanks to her Skills and a delicate application of mana, she was able to do so without perpetually staining her hands. I know because I asked her about it. ¡°I will see what I can do,¡± she said with a warm smile. She¡¯d fallen in love with a traveling merchant, an outwardly timid man named Lou. Their courtship spanned years as his visits to Elbura grew longer and more frequent. The way I understood things, their union would conclude with a relocation to a larger town where they¡¯d go into business together. No doubt Tina and Zetta are wrestling with the happy-sad of moving away from a close friend. Distance could strain even the most steadfast of friendships. Given her upcoming nuptials, Zetta had less to lose than most, socially speaking, by prying into Jusep¡¯s situation. Hopefully she¡¯s successful, I thought before taking a sip of the warm tea Zetta served. One of the plants she cultivated was a sort of flowering tealeaf. She used the flowers to make a bright pink pigment and processed the leaves for tea. Waste not want not and whatnot. ¡°Thanks Zet,¡± Tina said. ¡°Will was quite insistent he ask for your help, even though I told him you might be too busy at the moment.¡± She narrowed her eyes at me, a promise for a later scolding. Worth it. ¡°Oh hush,¡± Zetta chirped playfully. ¡°We both know I am as prepared as I can be. It is the waiting that is killing me.¡± They¡¯d decided to hold the ceremony in Elbura. Zetta¡¯s fianc¨¦ was scheduled to return with their guests but the specific date was, understandably, vague given potential travel delays. ¡°Having an extra project to keep me occupied is just what I need.¡± ¡°Thank you, Auntie Zetta. I appreciate it.¡± I really did. I excused myself to play outside with Fudge while Tina and Zetta went over the arrangements for the umpteenth time. I had questions about the ceremony, but figured I¡¯d be best served to observe one in person instead of interrupting their discussion with constant questions. I was especially curious what role a gardener would serve, but it was apparently important enough that they had one on standby who lived in a - relatively - nearby village. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll find out eventually. Chapter 40 ¡°Would society be better if we catered people¡¯s Builds for them based on the needs of the community in accordance with the potential aptitude for a role as determined by their Core Skill? It is a loaded question, and one I have seen many people contemplate and argue, both for and against. As for me, I have always preferred to be the unhelpful thinker who dares answer a question with another question: better for who?¡± ~Unknown ¡®Eventually¡¯ is a dangerous word. It promises an ambiguous future, devoid of deadlines and desire, where ambition is burned upon the pyre of uncertainty. Zetta¡¯s fianc¨¦, Lou, was late. The marital march to collect his guests should have concluded within that first month. We were approaching the end of the second. Had my evocation of ¡®eventually¡¯ been responsible? No. That would be ludicrous, and Lou¡¯s crossing of the continent could have hit any number of setbacks. Wedding plans were a tangled knot and not even Skills could unravel that mess. There are greater forces at play when it comes to such things; strange, mysterious forces that transcend worlds just to fuck with people. I had no proof of such things, of course, but until I reincarnated I had no evidence of that phenomenon, either. Besides, having a nebulous other to blame made it easier to vent the second-hand anxiety I felt radiating off of Tina as she worried on behalf of her best friend. There was an unspoken agreement that no one would speculate about worst-case scenarios, and I was doing my best not to dwell on some of the disasters that could have befallen a traveling caravan. *** We¡¯d just finished our lesson for the day. I say we, but Tina was so distracted that I decided I wanted to continue without her after she hastily wrapped things up. Her left hand drummed a fluttering beat on the side of her thigh as I watched her retreating form. Vigil was, as always, glued to her heels. He¡¯d had increasingly less patience for Fudge¡¯s puppy antics over the last few weeks, a symptom of his Bond with Tina. When one of them was on edge, so was the other. Fudge - for lack of a better word - flomped down beside me to rest his head in my lap. The sudden addition of weight rocked me backwards and I had to stick an arm out to brace myself. I felt the soft grass cushion my efforts. There was a lushness to it that persisted even in the warmer months. It was something I¡¯d noticed with much of the local flora; while there were seasonal differences, they were neither as stark nor - seemingly - necessary compared to what I was used t- That turn of phrase is feeling increasingly less appropriate, I noted sadly as I idly ran my free hand through Fudge¡¯s fur. He¡¯d need a brush soon, and a bath. Even that casual observation served to reiterate that I was ¡®used to¡¯ my current life, strangeness and all. No doubt, there were still wonders for me to see and experience, but I¡¯d well and truly settled into my little slice of the world. I pulled gently on my Skills as a pang of sadness threatened to overwhelm me. The soft radiance of Recovery reminded me that it was okay to hurt. One day at a time, I reminded myself. A small gust of wind flung my hair around my face, forcing me to scoop the offending locks out of my mouth. Fudge yawned and grumbled at my efforts. ¡°Pardon me for not choking on my hair,¡± I said sarcastically to the affectionate goofball while he voiced his complaints. Having the audacity to cease pats was, in Fudge¡¯s eyes, a notable offense. I took a deep breath and sent a pulse of mana down the Tamer Bond, like a bat screeching in the darkness to get a better sense of things. Not the most elegant imagery, but my efforts were hardly elegant either. It was a mere moment before the pulse returned, carrying with it a sense of Fudge that I was growing increasingly more adept at deciphering. Content. It wasn¡¯t a word, but a feeling, one that accompanied an enthusiastic nuzzle into my stomach. Despite recent distractions, Tina¡¯s tutelage continued to be a boon. My earliest efforts at discerning Fudge¡¯s emotional state were akin to shoving my arm into a cauldron of soup and trying to taste through my fingertips. In the broadest possible sense, I had the right idea but completely and utterly failed when it came to execution. It still took a modicum of focus, but I was now able to reliably get a read on Fudge¡¯s mood. As for Tina, she maintained a general awareness of Vigil in the same way I remembered to breathe; it just kind of happened. The benefits of experience were myriad, and her example was a good indication of where my efforts were leading. I¡¯d long since grown beyond compulsively checking my Skill progress every chance I had, but I still made a point to do so at least once a day. It was another example of the kind of sensible restraint that used to feel impossible for me in the days before Perseverance. Ever since my Advancement, inconsequential adjustments to my routine fell into place with barely any consideration. The similarities between that and Tina¡¯s casual uses of Taming were not lost on me. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
Perseverance Level 10/20 Current proficiency points: 287/1000 Recovery Level 4/10 Current proficiency points: 53/400 Taming [Dog] Level 5/10 Current proficiency points: 186/500
Progress. You love to see it. It would still be a long while before Fudge and I could accomplish something even remotely comparable to the capabilities Vigil and Tina demonstrated against the fueha, but every day took us one step closer. Even with the looming¡­ not threat - that would be inaccurate - the looming prospect of Crown intervention, I had a surplus of time to work towards it, and I intended to make the most of it. ¡°It all comes back to the bond,¡± I whispered, echoing what I had come to consider as Tina¡¯s educational catchphrase. For what were no doubt sensible reasons, Tina hadn¡¯t even begun to teach me the techniques necessary to draw on Fudge¡¯s strength, and I was under strict instructions not to attempt it myself. Having seen first-hand how the endeavor could impact even an experienced Tamer, I had no intentions of disobeying. The Tamer Bond was the foundation for everything, though. I sent another practiced pulse of mana down the magical connection. Fudge¡¯s limited System window opened up beside my own, answering the call almost immediately.
Dog Level 7/10
Fudge was, inevitably, going to reach their Skill bottleneck before me. Not that it was ever in any doubt with a Core Skill like ¡®Dog¡¯ being innate to his species. Fudge could sniff a stump, take a nap, and still earn more proficiency points than I would in an afternoon of focused effort. I was beginning to understand how my Core Skill might inspire similar envy in others. Even though Fudge would beat me to that first barrier, barring exceptional circumstances he would stagnate there like most animals did. ¡°You will have to wait for me to catch up, Fudge,¡± I said sweetly, savoring the small break I was allowing us before getting back to work. Unlike with Perseverance, I wouldn¡¯t need to flounder for a way through the first bottleneck of Taming [Dog]. When the moment came, Tina would coach me through a tried and true method. Technically, I had the option to try and forge my own path, but in this case it would be like spitefully scaling the side of a skyscraper with my bare hands instead of walking inside to use the elevator. The act of guiding Fudge through his first Advancement using our bond would be beneficial to both of us and give me greater influence over his growth in the future. Those were all things I wanted, so I saw no reason to seek an alternate approach. There was only one problem. What do I want Fudge to be? If I was going to guide his Advancement, doing so without an idea of what I wanted would be doing him a disservice. I closed my eyes and lay back on the grass to mull over the problem. Fudge took the opportunity to reposition, as well. The pair of us lay side-by-side, warmed by the sunlight and cooled by the breeze. A friend. A companion. That went without saying and was a function of the Tamer Bond more than anything. Unless I wanted Fudge making friends with everyone - a feat I suspected he could accomplish regardless - then it would be a poor direction to develop his Skills. A protector. A guardian. It¡¯s what motivated me to take the Skill to begin with, after all. Coaching Fudge in the development of Skills to take down threats and keep both of us alive would be necessary. By all accounts, that should have been the end of my initial deliberations. It wasn¡¯t. A question had been nagging at me, one I¡¯d given increasing attention to over the last several weeks. Tina once told me that Fudge would grow into who I needed him to be. Lionel told me that developing my Skills to achieve my goals was possible, or at the very least he hinted at it. Maybe. With Lionel, it was hard to tell. Could Fudge help me get back to Earth? Technically, there was still some ambiguity regarding the nature of where I was, but for the sake of organizing my thoughts I decided to take the plunge and consider my current location an entirely different world. There was my Earth, and there was here, hence the question. It would have been fine if my musings consistently failed to find purchase. Even if Fudge could help, without any idea of where to begin, it would have been moot. I did have an idea though, one inspired by an animal who could theoretically interact with reality on a quantum level if you stretched your understanding far enough. Perception. Observation. Relativity. My grasp of the concepts was flimsy, but maybe it would be enough. The hard part would be convincing The System we¡¯d earned it. ¡°Come on Fudge, break time is over,¡± I said definitively. With a small grunt, I sat all the way up and used the momentum to transition into a forward roll before springing to my feet. Nailed it, I thought cheerfully. Fudge similarly scrambled off the ground and enthusiastically wagged his tail at the announcement. I had a poorly thought out list of ideas to work through and there was no better time than the present. Worst case, our efforts wouldn¡¯t be recognized and I¡¯d try to get Fudge a more standard Build. Until then, it was time for operation ¡®Schr?dinger''s Dog¡¯. Chapter 41 ¡°Once, when I was young, I watched my mother use her fingernails to engrave the image of a rose on an ornamental shield; the kind of thing people with too much money might hang as a ¡®conversation piece¡¯. There are endless anecdotes just like that; everyone has at least one, I am sure. The System, Builds, all of it¡­ when you witness the marvelous ways these things change the world, how can you not be driven to learn all you can about them? ~Unknown ¡°Fudge. Buddy. Right now you are existing in Quantum Flux,¡± I called out to my closed bedroom door. Tina had gone to visit Zetta. As such, I had free rein of the house while Tulos was busy turning trees into stumps. That relative privacy was necessary, since I was occasionally forced to switch to English while spewing half-remembered scientific jargon to a dog. Not a sentiment I ever thought would be relevant to my life, I reflected. The absurdity of my situation was difficult to ignore, given that it was inspired by - at best - duct-tape-reinforced speculation. I took solace in the sensation of speaking English. Tragically, the words felt clumsy coming out of my mouth; I was out of practice and speaking with an accent that didn¡¯t feel like my own. I tried not to let it disrupt my focus, and Perseverance was more than capable of assisting. ¡®Right now, you exist in a state of uncertainty from my perspective,¡± I continued in a lecturing tone. To further reinforce that fact, I actively tried to dull my sense of the Tamer Bond using a practice exercise Tina taught me as part of her ¡®understand the bond¡¯ curriculum. It was an uncomfortable sensation, like hiding under a blanket slightly too long and feeling a growing need to emerge for a breath of fresh air. ¡°I have hidden three of my old toys in the bedroom.¡± The toys in question were the crocheted animals that used to guard my crib. While they held some sentimental value, I felt risking them for the good of Fudge¡¯s Advancement would be a worthy sacrifice. ¡°When I open the door, you will be playing with one of them, all of them, some of them, or none of them. What is important is that reality will not be set until you make the choice and I act to observe it¡­ I think.¡± If I were to be completely honest with myself, I was drawing on science fiction and pop-culture more than actual science for this activity. Intent is important. Tina had her catchphrases about System Advancement, but I had also developed a few of my own. If my experiences with Recovery had taught me anything, it was that a baseline understanding could get your foot through the metaphorical door; mana could do the rest. Obviously, I knew that Fudge wasn¡¯t going to be consciously comprehending my instructions. That wasn¡¯t the point. I was Fudge¡¯s Tamer, I was guiding him through this Skill practice, and when the time came it would hopefully be enough to leverage him into some kind of Skill. If the Skill then began to impact Fudge¡¯s physiology, and presumably it would, then perhaps he¡¯d gain the ability to¡­ honestly, I wasn¡¯t sure. I was attempting to magically force the theoretical science behind Schr?dinger''s borderline-satirical experiment into practical applications. ¡°You get all that, Fudge?¡± No response. Which¡­ yeah, I decided to take that as a positive thing, since I hadn¡¯t thought through the silliness of my question before it left my mouth. For the sake of being thorough, I repeated my instructions a few more times before placing my hand on the door handle. ¡°There are many possible versions of Fudge behind this door. Based on his choices, I am about to observe one of those realities, but it was Fudge who decided which reality I get to observe.¡± Not willing to delay any further, I opened the door and stepped into the room. Fudge had pushed himself flat to the floor and was sweeping the floor with his tail while watching the door. The steady sweeping turned into an excited thump when he saw me. The toys lay exactly where I¡¯d planted them around the room, untouched by Fudge who instead decided to wait for my arrival. Fucking adorable, I concluded. That just left me standing in a doorway staring down at a dog. ¡°Did¡­ did that do anything?¡± I asked aloud, partly to include Fudge in the process as much as possible. There was no indication either way. System? I don¡¯t suppose you want to chime in here? No response. I felt my face scrunch up at the anticlimax of it all. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°I do not know what I expected,¡± I eventually said with a sigh. ¡°Good job, boy.¡± I gestured for Fudge to come over and he excitedly obliged. I found the spot behind his ear that set his back leg twitching and immediately cheered up at the sight. Evidently, we wouldn¡¯t find out if we were successful until it was time for Fudge¡¯s Advancement. Unless¡­ With a quick mental command I called up my Taming [Dog] System window.
Taming [Dog] Level 5/10 Current proficiency points: 198/500
That¡¯s a notable increase! The Skill was twelve points higher than it had been earlier in the day. It was by no means definitive, but to gain so many points, I had to believe that we¡¯d accomplished something. Worst-case scenario, the act of deliberately trying to coach Fudge for Skill options was valuable in this instance, regardless of how successful we were. I turned to guide Fudge outside to play as a reward for his efforts, but paused at the door. Almost forgot¡­ I stepped back into the room and quickly scooped up the crocheted animals, returning them to their proper place on my bed. ¡®Baxter,¡¯ the ironically named plush dog, sat in the center of the trio. Just because I was willing to risk them for Fudge didn¡¯t mean they deserved to be mistreated, after all. ¡°Okay, Fudge! Let¡¯s go outside!¡± The much-more-real pup didn¡¯t need to be told twice as he bolted for the front door, prompting a giggle from me as I took off in pursuit. I decided to consider our efforts successful enough to warrant additional experiments. In the meantime, some exercise would do us both a world of good. I felt Recovery stir as we ran back into the fields, bolstered by Taming [Dog] as I threw a stick for Fudge to chase down. It was shaping up to be a good day. *** Conventional thinking would dictate that my appreciation of a day would doom it to a sudden twist of misfortune. Such was the way of things. Disaster would strike like a hidden blade, then that too would twist as it inevitably conjured a depressing downpour as if to say ¡®yes, things can, in fact, get worse.¡¯ There¡¯s a reason we think that way, a phenomenon with a name I once heard in passing but have long since forgotten. Was it some kind of bias? Probably. There were a lot of biases. This particular one is what made tragedy etch itself into our memories with a molten chisel. It is easier to remember the bad while we overlook the good. Fudge noticed Tina¡¯s return before I did, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say he noticed Vigil¡¯s return. A twitch of the ear and a sniff of the evening air set his tail to wagging. Tulos and I were inside preparing a meal when it happened, sharing in companionable silence. If I wanted conversation, he¡¯d give it to me, but I never forced smalltalk upon him. ¡°Mum is home,¡± I noted cheerfully as Tulos handed me a container of vegetable scraps to deliver to our compost. Normally, Fudge¡¯s alarm signaled they were a few minutes away from the house. The front door slammed open, making me flinch. That was fast. Too fast. Tulos looked similarly alarmed by the unexpected intensity of Tina¡¯s arrival as she marched into the main room. Her breathing was steady, but the disarray of her hair and faint flush to her cheeks betrayed the speed she was moving at, even if it hadn¡¯t tired her out. Dreadful anticipation settled over my mind as conventional thinking reared its ugly head. Another day, another terrible tragedy, and all because I dared to enjoy the quiet before the storm. I felt my mana thrum to life, ready to draw on my Skills if need be. ¡°A rider came,¡± Tina said quickly, not waiting for us to ask about her urgency. ¡°Zetta¡¯s betrothed will arrive tomorrow!¡± Her wide eyes were not of panic, but excitement, of relief. She ran home not because of a crisis, but to ease our own concerns for the wellbeing of a family friend. Tulos said something as he ran to pull Tina into an embrace, but I wasn¡¯t paying attention as the sudden tension I¡¯d allowed to come over me slowly bled away. Vigil slowly padded into the room, only to be greeted enthusiastically by Fudge who cared not for his sire¡¯s recent exertion. I was too stunned by my reaction to enjoy the moment, even as a wave of relief came over me. It was moments - reactions - like those that reminded me of the deeper issues I needed to work through. If I kept on anticipating the worst of the world, I would miss the best of it. Lionel¡¯s ridiculous parabel came to mind, and I was momentarily annoyed that his advice was so regularly relevant. I pulled on Perseverance, just enough to help me regain my bearings. One day at a time, I reminded myself before running to join my parents in their celebrations. Lou¡¯s impending arrival was good news, amazing, even. It meant the marriage ceremony would happen within the week, perhaps sooner. There would be a lot to do, but that could wait until tomorrow. As Tina pulled me into a hug, I let myself enjoy the moment for what it was. Not every day would be a good day, so I had to make them count. Chapter 42 ¡°Sometimes the wise thing to do is keep quiet and let a situation speak for itself. You, my friend, are not wise.¡± ~Unknown Conversation buzzed through the air like a current of polite electricity. The field adjacent to Zetta''s home grew increasingly crowded as guests arrived in droves, each adding their voice to the atmosphere as they shared greetings and well wishes. Not even the clouded skies could cast a shadow on the budding mirth. It was, finally, the day of the wedding. The last several days had been a blur of activity. As expected, Lou¡¯s caravan got delayed. I didn¡¯t get the full story, but something called a ¡®miniature tayhosa¡¯ had apparently established a burrow near the edge of The Forest. Its new territory overlapped with the route the caravan planned to take which, evidently, was a problem. When I asked what a tayhosa was, the creature described to me sounded like a cross between a bear and some kind of burrowing mammal like a mole or badger or something. Slayer intervention was required before the route was safe to travel again. The caravan gambled on a swift resolution but things took longer than they expected, hence the delay. Gossip remained a valuable commodity, such was human nature. In a world without constant feeds of internet drama, a good story could be shared and traded for months or even years at a time. Case in point, I regularly overheard snippets of the tayhosa story being shared in exchange for anecdotes about the fueha incident, like an economy of information. Guests who traveled with Lou mingled with the Elbura locals. It was easy to tell them apart, such that I could have managed the feat even without being a local myself. Those from Elbura wore their everyday fare. Their sturdy boots and grime-stained trousers marked them by their professions. Our out-of-town visitors wore clothing that was ostensibly more¡­ not formal, for that would imply they dressed up special for the occasion. They wore clothing that looked more white collar as opposed to blue collar. There were exceptions, of course. Hwan, as the town¡¯s ¡®mayor¡¯, was also in attendance, wearing a dark green sash over his shoulder to mark the occasion. A regular stream of guests made sure to offer him their respects as part of their social rounds. Feeling momentarily self-conscious about my own appearance, I shifted uncomfortably and resisted the urge to fiddle with the coil of delicate ivy wound around my left arm from wrist to shoulder. It signified me as an important member of the ceremony, but was otherwise the only additional adornment I was required to wear. I wore the same plain clothing I usually wore, albeit it had been freshly laundered for the occasion. Tina wore her working trousers, Tulos donned the thick gloves he wore while felling trees. They too wore the ivy. Tulos had initially objected to it in the name of tact but Zetta, bless her, had been insistent. The relative lack of visual extravagance had confused me, at first. Heck, I was planning a wedding before my untimely death. The thought struck me while an older woman doted on my ¡®adorable¡¯ appearance. I played the part of a bashful child and continued greeting people when they caught my eye. When I thought of a wedding, they were formal affairs with suits and gowns and¡­ Nope. Those thoughts are too dangerous, especially today. I banished those musing from my mind, content to conclude that different cultures carried different values. An obvious conclusion, perhaps, but one that was sometimes easy to forget. We wore the clothing that represented our Skills and growth, whatever form that may take. For most, it was their day-to-day clothing, and that was fine, encouraged, even. It was the best way to honor the couple and represent yourself in a way that was honest and true. I liked it. *** A change settled over the guests as a woman emerged from Zetta¡¯s house, moving with quiet dignity. Flowers were braided into her dark hair, as if it were the soil from which they grew. Her eyes were lined with maturity, and they captured everyone¡¯s attention as they passed over the crowd. People parted where she walked, creating a path that meandered from one side of the crowd to the other like elegant script. Where her bare feet stepped, I could have sworn the grass stood healthier for her passing. Like Hwan, she wore green, a skirt decorated with a dozen pockets. She was the Gardener, a spiritual pillar of the community, and it was she who would oversee the ceremony. The soft smile on her face spoke of quiet excitement for the union to come. It was hard not to smile with her. Nurturing. That was the word. There was an aura about her, one that promised complete acceptance and a place to flourish. It made her title all the more fitting, I felt. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. I felt a tap on my shoulder and reluctantly pulled my eyes away from the woman to see Tina standing behind me. With a quick gesture, she shepherded me to the front of the crowd, where we would stand to await Zetta and Lou, along with Zetta¡¯s parents and the groom¡¯s chosen supporters. There was no music, nor any particular signal we were waiting on. The Gardener, who I only knew as such, seemed completely at ease. Everyone was. It was a moment of quiet anticipation, and no one was to be rushed as we waited with bated breath, all eyes on the door to Zetta¡¯s home. I heard a few appreciative gasps when Zetta emerged, Lou¡¯s hand firmly clasped in her own. They stood side-by-side, both an image of extravagance. For while the guests represented themselves as they were, Zetta and Lou presented themselves as they were promising to be, an exaggeration of their hopes and dreams made manifest. Rich fabrics of vibrant colors hugged Zetta¡¯s form, catching the limited light and reacting to its presence. Blues became purples and greens then blues again as she practically shimmered. Yet, it was not overwhelming or tacky, it was like every part of the visual spectrum decided to celebrate with us, doing all they could to capture the beauty of a woman in love as she confidently strode into the next chapter of her life. Not to be outdone, Lou wore the finest clothes he owned, a symbol of the wealth and prosperity he promised to provide as his merchant Skills soared to new, impossible heights. Where Zetta was color, Lou was metallic sheens. Gold and silver trinkets decorated his arms, hands, ears and clothes. To see Lou was to covet the value of all he had, yet still understand that he found none of it as valuable as the love he shared with the woman with whom he walked hand-in-hand. They must be burning through mana like crazy¡­ The pair began a measured march down the corridor carved through the crowd by the Gardener. As they grew closer, I saw the concentration evident on their expressions, the strained smiles and furrowed brows. There was a beauty in that too, I decided. They were giving the demonstration everything they had, as they would do for each other. Their clasped hands were just as much for physical support as an expression of their emotional connection. We all watched, transfixed, as they crossed the final distance and came to stand before the Gardener. The sheer allure radiating off of the pair started to dim as they came to a standstill as they stopped fueling whatever magics were responsible for the effect. Gone was their demonstration of the future. It was time to focus on the present. ¡°Let us begin,¡± the Gardener said warmly, and her smile welcomed us all to smile with her. We did, for how could we not? *** A person can taste the difference between cheeseburgers from two different fast-food restaurants, but they¡¯re still ultimately eating a burger. Watching the ceremony, I felt a similar pang of familiarity. It wasn¡¯t a wedding in the biblical sense, but it hit most of the same notes in its own unique way. Whenever the Gardener spoke, her voice carried to everyone present. She guided the couple through their union as we all watched, transfixed by the significance of it all. ¡°May you promise to be their sunlight, to offer warmth when days grow cold.¡± ¡°May you promise to be their soil, to offer support when life¡¯s winds grow harsh.¡± ¡°May you promise to be their water, to cleanse and revitalize when spirits grow murky.¡± Zetta and Lou responded solemnly to each statement, affirming their commitments. It¡¯s all tied to growth and nature, I noted. The underlying theme of the local¡­ religion? Faith? Whatever it was that united the spiritual identity of the community, it was rooted in the natural world. When one considered the magical, ethereal tree growing within most people, I couldn¡¯t blame them for it. *** Those of us who wore the ivy had a role to play as well. ¡°May you grow, not just as individuals, but as one,¡± the Gardener said before sweeping her arms to either side, gesturing to the two groups that represented the ¡®bridal party¡¯. ¡°These are the people who support your growth.¡± She let the sentiment hang in the air for a long moment. ¡°Are there any among you who object to this union?¡± Nobody spoke up, signaling our public support of the coupling. It was also a promise of our own. In the future, if Lou came to us for help, we would assist him as if he were Zetta. Lou¡¯s supporters, his closest friends and family, would do the same for his bride. *** ¡°You may now plant the seed,¡± the Gardener instructed. Lou reached into one of his pockets and withdrew a small, velvety pouch. From within, he retrieved a simple seed. Zetta knelt down, unbothered that it would dirty her gown. Using her hands, she scooped out a handful of dirt, leaving a small hole. Lou knelt beside her, similarly acknowledging that he would work for the marriage as he deposited the seed into the ground and covered it up. The Gardener joined them on the ground, placing both hands over the planted seed. ¡°May this seed grow as your love does, flourish as your union does, and inspire you to be the best you can be.¡± A look of concentration crossed her features, then from between her fingers a tiny shoot of green emerged. As she withdrew her hands, the growth continued, until a small sapling stood strong and proud. After the ceremony, it would be collected and displayed in their home. As they cared for the plant, it would serve as a reminder of their love and commitment. ¡°With this, you are connected. With this you are one.¡± In response to the Gardener¡¯s final proclamation, Lou pulled Zetta into his arms and kissed her deeply. A chorus of celebration erupted from the crowd as we all crowed our support. They were wed, and it was time to party. Chapter 43 ¡°I never understood the bravado people placed on their ability to hold their liquor, be it through natural talent or the application of a Skill. Personally, I find not having to bankrupt myself to achieve a pleasant buzz much more impressive.¡± ~Unknown The reception - for even though it was not referred to as such, it served the same purpose - happened back at Elbura proper, making use of the same open patch of land reserved for markets and other festivals. Tradition dictated that Zetta and Lou remain at their home, for a time, to finalize their wedding-plant with the Gardener. I hadn¡¯t been allowed to see it, but yesterday Zetta let it slip that Lou had invested in a Spell-Scripted vessel for the symbolic little sprout. *** ¡°What does that do?¡± I asked at the time with the bluntness afforded to me by my youth. Zetta had been all kinds of delighted since Lou¡¯s arrival, so she was more than willing to answer. When she did, it was with a grin that bordered on cocky. ¡°It will be keyed to Lou and I,¡± she said confidently. ¡°That will allow us to feed it our mana, and our love will be reflected in its growth.¡± I was by no means an expert on relationships, but something like that sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. Watching a plant wilt in real time to mirror a failing relationship would be tragic. I looked at Tina with a slightly-sideways tilt to my head; she gently shook her head in response to my silent question. ¡°Your father and I decided not to get one,¡± Tina replied, not seeming too concerned by the situation. ¡°We still have our wedding plant, though. We transferred it to the garden. I wonder if you can guess which one it is¡­¡± she trailed off mischievously, knowing that my curiosity would suck me into the guessing game. *** I smiled fondly at the memory. Tina was growing wily in her efforts to make sure I still engaged in sufficient ¡®child-appropriate¡¯ activities. Frankly, I was still a little bit childish. Most people are, in their own way, I think, so I was content to indulge her from time to time. Barrels of alcohol were rolled out of the storage cellars while large tables laden with food were set up in neat rows. It wasn¡¯t the most extravagant set up, but it was ours. While waiting for the newlyweds, it was our responsibility to kick off the festivities. People drank, they dined, they caught up with friends whose work schedules usually kept them too busy to socialize. It wasn¡¯t long before people unveiled, or ran to fetch, their instruments; some of the locals were even Skilled. Percussion, winds, strings; they were all there. The shapes varied slightly, and the names were different, but if something looks and sounds like a pan flute then I figured I may as well call it as such. I stuck close to Tina and Tulos. It was the sensible thing to do until the guests of honor arrived, but I was excited to be able to wander the party myself as the day progressed. I watched smugly as a woman carried her infant with her into the town hall, where a snug little babysitting room awaited. I suppressed a shiver. Thank all the fucks that those days are over. Surrounded by mouth watering smells, good people, and a jaunty tune it was easy to get lost in the atmosphere. Instead of mulling over recollections of my infancy, I decided to do just that. *** There was no particular fanfare to the newlywed¡¯s arrival, they just joined in the party and as word-of-mouth spread, people made sure to take time to wander over to offer a more personal congratulations. Come on dude, you got this. Fourth time¡¯s the charm. My silent commentary concerned Nochos, one of Elbura¡¯s younger bachelors, as he bravely stumbled towards another daintily dressed woman from out of town. I first caught sight of Nochos, who swayed as he walked, as we were waiting for our turn to speak to Zetta and Lou. One might think the sway was inspired by excess alcohol consumption, but while it had certainly exacerbated the situation, it wasn¡¯t too far away from his usual gait. It was like someone told him to move ¡®hip first¡¯ and he - quite literally - ran with it. I could understand that, without the necessary context, seeing a red-cheeked Nochos approaching might come across as a smidge confronting. He was turned down a lot. Regardless, I found his perseverance in the face of adversity to be endearing, so I kept an eye on him as the party progressed. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. I wonder if my Skill helps me spot the trait in other people. It was something to consider in the future, though I wasn¡¯t yet sure to what end. After a brief break to regain his composure and subsequently drown it in a fresh mug of liquid courage, he approached another woman only for the cycle to repeat itself. Lou didn¡¯t bring that many guests, and I was pretty sure he was almost out of options. Sure enough, with a polite shake of her head, another woman rejected his advances. Watching him slink away, I got the impression it¡¯d be a while before he tried again. A tale as old as time. *** ¡°Where are we going?¡± Bella asked, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the crowd as we pushed our way through. Once she was given some freedom to roam around, albeit with strict instructions not to wander far, Bella had sought me out with the uncanny accuracy of a bloodhound. Her arrival seemed to signal something to Tulos and Tina, so the same permissions were granted to me and we were given free rein of the town. Notably, at least for me, was the continued absence of Jusep and his family. I obviously lacked a complete view of the situation, but from my perspective they were isolating themselves which wouldn¡¯t end well for anyone. My patience was wearing thin, and I found myself increasingly tempted to intervene on that kid¡¯s behalf, consequences be damned. That was a problem for another day, however. Today was Zetta¡¯s day and I was determined to behave myself. Besides, there was one place I had been itching to visit for hours. ¡°To check on Fudge and Vigil,¡± I replied honestly, much to Bella¡¯s giggly excitement. Getting permission for Vigil and Fudge to be given some space just outside town for the celebration had required informing Hwan of my Advancement and subsequent Skill choices. The older man didn¡¯t seem particularly shocked by the revelation and reassured us that he¡¯d continue to skirt the edges of his responsibilities regarding me as much as possible. Fudge and I were getting better at being apart, a testimony to our efforts to exercise the Tamer Bond. Still, I suspected that, without Vigil¡¯s presence to calm him down, Fudge would have started gallivanting through the wedding guests to search for me hours ago. A rudimentary pen, of sorts, had been set up for the occasion on the outskirts of the village square. As we grew closer, I shifted my perception inwards. I felt my mana stir as I willed my thought¡¯s down the Tamer Bond. Almost there, boy. The words were largely for my benefit, a vessel for the sentiment I wanted to convey. I knew that, by the time my mana reached Fudge, it would be a vague impression of intent, at best. My Taming Skill wasn¡¯t Advanced enough to manage much else, but the practice was important. An excited bark from up ahead let me know that my efforts had been successful, and I similarly felt a muted sense of excitement coming from Fudge¡¯s end of the Tamer Bond. With a laugh, I broke out into a jog to cross the final distance. ¡°Wait for me!¡± Bella called out after me as she scrambled into a run of her own. *** ¡°Did you get to meet the big, strong, Slayers, Will?¡± I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes at the complete lack of subtlety on display. In all fairness, it would probably be sufficient for the average 5-year-old, I thought dryly. The question came from a middle-aged woman whom I hadn¡¯t yet been formally introduced to, so her name escaped me. Her hair was pinned into a bun with what looked like a pair of wooden knitting needles, so I could only presume she worked with the wool produced by Elburan sheep. Almost immediately after Bella and I rejoined the party proper, we were set upon, as if my interrogator were laying in ambush. Much like a predator, she swiftly tore into the throat of my post-Fudge good mood, leaving it to spasm in its metaphorical death throes while she pumped me for gossip; rumors were, as ever, a hot commodity. I played the oblivious child, evading serious questions by giving innocently ignorant answers. It mattered not if the performance was believable, just so long as- Mabel! I knew I¡¯d heard her mentioned in passing before. Hopefully, Mabel would believe I lacked any useful information or was savvy enough to keep my mouth shut. Sure enough, it wasn¡¯t long before her patience had worn thin and she made an excuse to move on. Before I could feel too proud of myself, I caught Bella frowning at me. She¡¯d remained helpfully quiet while I spoke to Mabel, which should have been my first clue something was amiss. ¡°Will, you should tell the truth more. I hate it when people lie.¡± She turned and stormed off, stomping in a way that was almost comical. Yeah¡­ that¡¯s going to be a problem sooner rather than later, I reflected. Her scrutiny was growing increasingly coherent. Bella¡¯s Core Skill was evidently close to Advancing, a remarkable feat given her age. And the fact that she¡¯s an actual child. In hindsight, it made some sense. All social interaction, be it through speech, body language, or something else entirely would be a gauntlet for someone with her Skill. It was yet another problem to add to my ever-growing pile, but it could wait for another day. I might go see if I can find Zetta again. She would be leaving Elbura, soon enough, so I wanted to make the most of the time we had left. Chapter 44 ¡°What is a Core Space? Some of you may know it as something different, but I trust you can use context clues to figure it out. We call it a space, a room, but does it physically exist? We go there with our minds, our spirits, but could we go there physically? If any of you ever decide to try, please take thorough notes and make sure you have witnesses for your experiments. It would be a shame for you to succeed only to be unable to return, after all.¡± ~Unknown The rest of the evening passed without much fanfare, all things considered. Zetta made me promise to take care of Tina and I made her promise to take care of herself, then she stole me for a dance. I say dance, but she basically hoisted me off the ground and did all the work herself; I just kind of swung around while my legs dangled beneath me. It was ridiculous and I loved it. Eventually, people started making their way back home. There were no days off for the farmers, and sensible people saw the value in grabbing some shut-eye. Bella and her family were among the first to leave, along with a few other families that had children. Between my Skills and Advancement, I had outgrown the innate weariness that laid siege to a growing child when evening turned to night. Even so, I made a show of slowing down and being less active for the sake of maintaining appearances. Tina¡¯s connection to Zetta could justify why we were staying later than most, but it wouldn¡¯t explain my constitution if I didn¡¯t show any sign of slowing down. We eventually left when Zetta and her new husband retired to presumably run off and dance the ol¡¯ horizontal tango. Good for them. The walk home was a somber one. Tina leaned up against Tulos as they walked. Tulos¡¯ arm wrapped around her back so that he could grab her shoulder and help pull her into his side. No words were spoken. None were needed. When the lights of town dimmed, when the smells of celebration faded, when the last din of conversation fled our ears and was lost to the wind, all that remained were thoughts of what tomorrow would bring. They were bittersweet. *** We met with Zetta in the following days, but it wasn¡¯t long before she packed up her life and bid farewell to Elbura with Lou and the caravan. She left us with promises she¡¯d write and an insistence that we go visit once she¡¯d gotten her new life settled down. Aunt Zetta was gone. I knew, academically, that similar occurrences likely happened during my first life. Friends of my parents whom I saw infrequently inevitably fell out of memory when life pulled them away. As an adult, when my best friends started having children, I became one of those ¡®uncles¡¯ myself. The friends I used to see every day became friends I saw every couple of weeks¡­ every couple of months¡­ every year or so¡­ and, eventually, we all saw each other for the last time. Sometimes, separations happen gradually. Sometimes, they hit with a sudden finality. Eventually, I too would be lost to memory. Yet, life keeps going. We wake up in the morning, we stumble somewhere to take a piss, then we get on with our day. Sometimes we remember the loss and separation, and more often than not we can do so with a fond smile while we reminisce over how that connection shaped us. We might also wonder ¡®what if¡¯ and dream of things that could have been. These things are normally short-lived, though. They have to be. When we spend too much time living in the past, we miss out on the present. That¡¯s the way it should be, at least. Another couple of months had passed. I continued my lessons with Tina, my training with Tulos, and my efforts with Fudge. There was always something to keep me busy, something to occupy my mind. Recovery and Perseverance worked in tandem now, helping me shoulder the crushing weight of grief that occasionally ambushed me. I was¡­ doing better, I think. The more I dwelled on those painful memories, the more I knew it would jeopardize my chances of working towards a future where I got to reclaim the life I lost. Yet the more I lived my new life, the more I loathed myself for letting the memories fade. In one of those moments of desperation, as I sat in a darkened room clutching onto Fudge¡¯s tear-stained fur, I willed my Skills to help me. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. When I¡¯d made the effort with Perseverance alone, my memories continued to slip from me. It was years ago, and part of me had forgotten that as well. Such was the folly of the mind, even my mana-enhanced one. Perseverance was a lot stronger than it was back then, though - and it wasn¡¯t alone. I almost hesitated. Some small part of me realized that preserving those memories, restoring them to the same luster they once had, would not just leave them fresh in my mind. It would also leave them raw. I think that¡¯s why Recovery didn¡¯t help as much as it could have. In many ways, those memories would just hurt me. It was a hurt I wasn¡¯t ready to live without. It was a project reserved for those quiet moments. When night settled over the world and all was still, when my body craved sleep but my mind was free to roam. I made a deal with myself, then. I would allow myself to hurt when no one else could see it - no one except Fudge, who I doubt I could have hid it from even if I tried. Mana traveled from my core in a slow trickle. I was always so cautious, so ready to shut down my efforts at the first hint that something was going wrong. Intent was important, but it wasn¡¯t the only factor in play. Like pieces of a million-piece puzzle, every spec of mana worked to rebuild the gaps in my memories, to restore clarity to that which had begun to blur. My rational mind began considering ways I might further leverage half-remembered knowledge or lines from barely skimmed textbooks, but the nights were not for my rational mind. Instead, I focused on her. Her face, her eyes, the way her hair set itself when she peeled herself out of bed. The casual glances, the intimate gestures, the smell of her favorite candles¡­ the way it felt to hold her close. Those memories were mine. I was not going to give them up without a fight. Would it make feeling better harder? Probably. I did not care, not when I knew what the alternative was. I often reflected on the fact that my choice to take Perseverance meant I would need to make my life hard to progress. If things were ever easy, I would stagnate. I told myself that¡¯s what made what I was doing okay. So long as I let myself enjoy my days, I could spend my nights in memory. Even as I stared at the ceiling, while thoughts of home filled my head, I wondered if soon even memory would not be enough. At what point would the man I am becoming overwhelm the man I once was? Would that version of myself soon be like an old friend? *** Tina was fidgeting. I watched as she rhythmically tapped each finger of her right hand against her thumb in a repetitive ascending and descending pattern. Her steps were smaller than they usually were, delaying the journey she had been reluctant to make for months. Tulos was not with us. It was just me, because it was my selfish request that brought us here. Off to the side of the dirt path, Vigil growled at Fudge who had been playfully nipping at the older dog''s tail. He¡¯d put up with the game - for a time - but his patience had worn thin. Fudge is a little rapscallion when he wants to be, I thought with wry amusement. I had to use the English word since I had not yet heard a one-for-one translation for ¡®rapscallion¡¯ which¡­ Yeah, if I am being honest, I¡¯d probably have to try and coin it myself. Tina still looked like she was having doubts, so I hurried to her side and snatched her fidgeting hand with my own. ¡°Thanks for doing this for me, mom,¡± I said, not having to feign the gratitude in my voice. I squeezed. ¡°I know it was a big ask.¡± Tina startled slightly at my touch, so momentarily lost in her own thoughts that she failed to register my closeness until I made contact. I felt her squeeze my hand back. ¡°You are most welcome, my Will.¡± I couldn¡¯t be certain, but I think what I said helped. She called me her Will, after all. I noticed in the last few months she¡¯d started referring to me as just ¡®Will¡¯ on occasion, like she was weaning off of the affectionate moniker. Some part of me knew that it would never quite leave her vocabulary though, no matter how old I got. We walked hand-in-hand for a while, after that, drawing strength from each other¡¯s presence. I wasn¡¯t voicing it since I didn¡¯t want to give Tina cold feet, but I was nervous too. We were finally going to see Jusep. Chapter 45 ¡°Our Skills allow us to do incredible things, but even they have limits. We see the potential for seemingly endless Advancement and sometimes lose ourselves to possibility by ignoring the moment. The most successful men and women I have met were not necessarily the best at surpassing their limits, but at understanding them.¡± ~Unknown ¡°Absolutely not!¡± Amy¡¯s response was cold enough to send a shiver up my spine. She¡¯d rushed out of her farmhouse before we even made it to the door, cutting us off with a face carved from granite. When Tina tried to explain the situation, Amy interrupted her. A low rumble grew in the back of Vigil¡¯s throat at the offense, but a sharp glare from Tina was enough to silence the looming hound. ¡°Amy, Will wanted to-¡± ¡°I do not care what your boy wants, Tina.¡± Again, the rebuttal was swift and dripping acid. ¡°How dare you come here and try to force the issue. We have made it clear what is best for Jusep.¡± There was a break to her voice that grew more pronounced as she spoke. I was reminded of the sheer torment I heard in Amy¡¯s wails when she first laid sight on Jusep after the attack, the desperation. Something is wrong. The thought, the feeling, sucked the air from my lungs. I finally noticed the state Amy was in. The disarray of her hair, the bags under her eyes, it wasn¡¯t- it shouldn¡¯t- why did she still look so raw? Jusep was supposed to be recovering, right? ¡°Amy¡­ what¡­¡± Tina must have noticed it too. Amy was ragged. She was defeated. It was too much for Tina, who rushed forward and pulled Amy into an embrace. It was like the breaking of a dam. Sobs wracked Amy¡¯s body and her knees buckled under the unexpected rush of support; Tina made sure to hold her up, and just let the woman feel what she needed to feel without judgment. I feel like I am intruding on something I shouldn¡¯t be¡­ Amy¡¯s vulnerability caught me off guard. Everything about the situation caught me off guard. I had prepared myself to talk down an overbearing parent, not¡­ Not this. Tina was speaking softly to Amy, and I couldn¡¯t make out what she was saying. Fudge had wandered over to me and bumped his head against my shoulder, having sensed that something was wrong with me, too. My eyes drifted towards the house, and the slightly ajar door. I have to know. There was no way we would force the issue, not after what Tina was seeing, and if Amy still insisted on not telling us¡­ I have to know. The adults were distracted. It felt awful to refer to what was happening as such, but for my purposes, it was accurate. I worried running might alert Tina and Amy, so I walked towards the house. Each step felt heavier than the last. Amy continued to cry. Again, I was reminded of her wails. I hadn¡¯t thought of them in so long, too long. I knew they would keep me up that night. Fudge tried to trail behind me, but with a practiced gesture he stayed back. He sat and watched me intently as my hand gently fell upon the door. For some reason, the feeling of the wood grain made me cognizant of how dry my mouth was feeling. No time to delay. It was amazing my gambit had paid off at all. I was expecting to hear Tina call out or suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder any moment. I didn¡¯t have time to second guess myself. I pushed open the door and stepped into the house. It wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d been there. Back when we were still having our weekly playdates, we visited Jusep regularly, so I knew where his room was. The sound of my rapid footfalls followed me through the house before I came to a stop in front of the door I needed. No time to delay. A feeling of dread settled in my stomach, but a flash of mana from Perseverance banished any lingering hesitation. I had to see for myself. I opened the door. I hadn¡¯t seen Jusep in person since the incident. The last time I saw him, he¡¯d been bloodstained and battered, his injuries barely contained by Vix¡¯s magic. Tina still hadn¡¯t fully explained how that had happened; I¡¯d honestly not thought about it in months given how much had been happening. I didn¡¯t dwell on it at that moment, either. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. I couldn¡¯t, because I saw Jusep. We¡¯d been lied to. Or at the very least, I¡¯d been lied to. I¡¯d been told that Jusep was going to make a recovery, that he¡¯d be fine. I never expected it to be a full recovery, but¡­ Jusep wasn¡¯t fine; he¡¯d survived. There was a difference. A small pile of pillows propped up Jusep¡¯s frame. He was thinner, and he had already been a thin kid. His cheeks had sunken in somewhat. I couldn¡¯t see under the covers over his legs, but the shirt he wore had one of the sleeves folded up and sewn closed. I saw the scar that ran across the side of his face; it was already starting to fade, if only slightly. Jusep turned towards me, reacting to the sound I made when I stepped into the room. His hair had been combed, but some of it shifted and fell partially over one of his eyes when he moved. I noticed a brush on a small bedside table, its handle partially hanging off the edge like it had been put down in a hurry. Jusep looked at me, but said nothing. He just¡­ stared. There was barely any reaction at all. He then turned back towards his window, like I wasn¡¯t even there. ¡°Jusep. Hi.¡± My voice cracked slightly and I felt the mana in my core space start to churn. I pushed it down. My Skills could have helped me, but I felt like I would regret it if I let them do so any more than I already had. There was no response. ¡°Jusep. Hey, Jusep.¡± I took a few shaky steps towards the bed. Jusep turned to look at me again, but there wasn¡¯t any real recognition in his expression. It stayed flat, like he was looking through me, not at me. Withdrawal. Disassociation. Trauma. Several medical buzzwords that might explain the situation flickered through my mind, not that I was in any position to make a diagnosis. All I knew was what I could see. Jusep was a brat at times, sure, but he was a kid. Kids are supposed to make mistakes and be rough around the edges. I didn¡¯t like kids, but I never blamed them for being what they were. Jusep was so full of life, and now¡­ It¡¯s like he¡¯s gone. My breath caught in my throat as emotion overwhelmed me. I couldn¡¯t even tell what emotion it was, only that it was formless and suffocating and- Perseverance responded to my subconscious desires and fought back against the tide. I had frozen up, but I couldn¡¯t afford to do that, not then, not there. I would save it for the night. ¡°Will!¡± I heard Tina shout from outside. I was out of time. I ran forward and grabbed Jusep¡¯s hand. ¡°I am so... Fuck.¡± I swore in English under my breath, momentarily forgetting myself. Even with Perseverance helping me act, it didn¡¯t mean that my actions would be correct. What would an apology accomplish? Jusep didn¡¯t even flinch. I heard the sound of heavy steps thundering towards me. ¡°Get away from him!¡± Amy screeched and I felt her nails dig into my arm as she yanked me away from her son. She flung me backwards and I felt the air rush out of me as I collided with the doorframe. Pain erupted from the point of impact, so I drew on Recovery and Perseverance. Mana flooded my body. I was too stunned to consider how I wanted to draw on the Skills, it was like a knee-jerk reaction. It was sloppy, but it was something. The pain dulled, somewhat, and I felt my lungs draw in air easier than they had been moments before. If I hadn¡¯t already Advanced, I probably would have broken something. From outside, I heard Fudge start to snarl before a loud bark from Vigil cut him off. Tina was kneeling next to me, even as I tried to pull myself up. When did she get here? She wore a complicated expression, and when she spoke it was through gritted teeth. ¡°Will, are you hurt?¡± ¡°I am fine,¡± I lied, but stood up to prove my point. It hurt like hell, but the steady stream of mana from my Skills made it manageable. Seconds had passed, if that, and Amy was still checking over Jusep as if I¡¯d somehow damaged him by being in his presence. ¡°I-¡± Tina scooped me up before I could say anything else. ¡°Will, we have to leave.¡± Tina said, and she rushed me out of the house. I didn¡¯t even have time to register what was happening before we were already rushing back the way we came. ¡°Mom, we-¡± ¡°Will. Please. Not now,¡± Tina gripped me even tighter as the dogs fell into pace beside her. Her voice was strained, almost a snarl. Oh¡­ I didn¡¯t complain any more. I had to let Tina remove herself from the situation. I watched as Jusep¡¯s house shrunk into the distance behind us. I willed my mana output to slow. I only had so much of it, after all. The pain in my back ratcheted up a notch, but it was manageable. I know, academically, that this is not my fault, but¡­ It was hard not to face down regrets when faced with a kid so broken by circumstance. What made it worse was the feeling that I couldn¡¯t do anything to help him. Unless¡­ The seed of an idea began to take root in my mind. I tried to focus on it to distract myself from the pain. It didn¡¯t work. Chapter 46 ¡°Until further notice, any questions submitted to my office in writing are to be no longer than half a page. Let it be known that I am both annoyed and impressed that I have had to institute this rule.¡± ~Unknown Curling wood scraps gathered at Tulos¡¯ feet as he carefully carved into the split log laid upon his work bench. As the man was prone to do, he did so with an axe; it was one of his smaller hatchets as opposed to the monstrosity used for felling trees, but still. I once remarked that using a variety of tools would have made Tulos¡¯ job easier - why not simply use a saw instead of functionally whittling large pieces of wood into the shape? Tulos¡¯ Skills helped bridge the gap, of course, but I was convinced they weren¡¯t enough for him to overcome it - not at his level. It was that dissonance which prompted me to question the man, to gauge if there were insights or secrets to System Advancement hidden within his actions. His reply? ¡°I just prefer the axe.¡± Honestly, it was tough to argue with. Tulos had issues with his Skilled weapon of choice not because he hated wielding it, but because he hated wielding it to inflict violence. When he worked in his woodshed, he often looked tranquil, even as he furrowed his brow in concentration. It was the same that day as I watched him work, his face somehow existing in emotional juxtaposition with itself. Occasionally, he¡¯d stop and eyeball his efforts before starting up again. The more he worked, the more the chunk of log began to resemble a table leg. That was good, we needed a new table - seeing as how Tulos accidentally shattered our old one. I let my mind drift back to earlier that day. *** Amy was out of line. It would be hard to argue otherwise. I genuinely heard Tina grinding her teeth after she rushed me away from Jusep¡¯s house, the noise a constant companion on our journey home. I say ¡®our¡¯ journey, but Tina insisted on carrying me, even when I told her I was fine to walk myself; I wasn¡¯t really, but it¡¯s what I told her. She regularly whispered apologies to me, no matter how much I insisted they weren¡¯t necessary. Underneath it all, the rage she felt was almost tangible. I didn¡¯t blame her. How could I? Why would I? I understood that Amy¡¯s circumstances were enough to leave her unsettled and, evidently, a little unhinged, but that was not an excuse. A different day, a different child, she could have seriously injured someone. I mean, fuck, what if little Bella had decided to go visit her friend and had the ¡®audacity¡¯ to- Calm down, Will, I told myself. The throbbing in my lower back served as a reminder of the fact that I was hurt, even if I wasn¡¯t debilitated. To distract myself, I tried to make the most of the situation and urged Recovery into action as I began channeling a thin stream of mana into the Skill. The pain made it difficult, so I changed tactics. Perseverance lit up in my mind¡¯s eye, and the Advancement bonuses I¡¯d chosen came into effect. Adrenaline still floods my body. I want to focus on learning how to better use Recovery to treat my injuries. I want to focus on that task and ignore the pain and unsettling emotions flooding my body. I repeated the words like a mantra as the Skill went to work. Recently, I had endeavored to minimize how much I subconsciously used the Skill to dull my emotions in day-to-day life, but it was still a function of Perseverance that had its uses. Everything fell to the wayside of my consciousness. I was still aware of my life beyond my current goal, but my mana wrangled every issue, doubt, pain and discomfort into neatly organized mental boxes. Recovery began to do its work, spurred on by my new found focus. I noted that the drain I felt from Perseverance was minimal; not negligible, but I suspected that without the pain of an injury trying to shatter my zen, it would be. Blunt force trauma. It was a phrase I¡¯d remembered that I knew was a fancy way of saying ¡®bludgeoning damage¡¯. Bruises were a sign of internal bleeding and¡­ I couldn¡¯t remember. I knew my body could, though. It might have been less efficient than specifically guiding the Skill to fix an issue, but it would have to do. I felt mana gather at the site of my injury. There was a warmth to it - there was a texture, too, something just beyond my perception without a Skill to help me sense it. It might be good to specialize in subconscious recovery, I thought as I tried to feel exactly what my mana was doing. In a high-stakes situation, not having to actively focus on my body, mind, or whatever as it repaired itself would probably be valuable, even if it wasn¡¯t the best way to leverage the Skill to the fullest at its current level. Not that I know enough about anatomy to consciously make the choice right now either way. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. I sent my will, my focused intent, at the warm sensation, letting it guide the Skill. My body was to heal the injury how it normally would, only faster. If it needed energy, it could use the mana or- Could I get it to pull from my biological energy stores as well? It was a fun idea, but probably a dangerous one. I wasn¡¯t sure at what percentage of body fat I would make the abrupt transition from living to deceased and had no desire to find out through unplanned experimentation. I was mutely aware of the rocking of my body and the sound of Tina¡¯s footfalls as I felt the Skill do its work - and it was working. The mana I supplied the Skill was being steadily drained as my body attempted to translate the mystical energy into something it could use. At no point did my awareness of the pain I felt dissipate; it was only Perseverance that kept it at bay. I got a sense that I could send even more mana to Recovery to increase its potency, that the Skill could put all of the magic I could muster to good use. I didn¡¯t. There was no guarantee it¡¯d be enough to heal my injury and would likely leave me unconscious for my troubles. If that happened, I doubted Tina would handle the situation well, so I restrained myself. Instead, I kept trying to gain insights from ¡®observing¡¯ the process. Still just kinda feels warm¡­ maybe a little itchy? Kind of? Being cognizant of my body¡¯s inner workings on any type of conscious level was beyond my current capabilities. The fact that I got even the vague-as-fuck impression I did was promising, though. I wondered if, perhaps, it was something I would grow more proficient with as I continued to Advance. Eventually, I felt Tina¡¯s pace slow and heard a muffled voice at the edge of my consciousness. I¡¯d spent a lot of mana, so the timing worked out well. Like relaxing a mental muscle, I let my two Skills taper off. For Perseverance, I¡¯d learned it made the transition between ¡®states of thought¡¯ less jarring, like the difference between easing into a pool of icy water or cannonballing in from the neighbor¡¯s roof. I was aware of Tina stepping into the house and moving through to the main room. Tulos was there, he welcomed us back, I think. I didn¡¯t quite catch the words yet. Pain and a smoothie of complicated emotions were making it hard to focus for a handful of seconds as I gradually reintroduced them to my system. When I finally eased myself back to full awareness, I caught the back end of something Tina was saying. ¡°... and she hurled Will into the doorframe.¡± Her tone was ice. ¡°She what?!¡± Tulos had been sitting at the table and slammed his hands into the table as he surged to his feet. I had never heard him shout like that before - even he looked surprised. Though, that might have also been because when a Skilled man Tulos¡¯ size slams full force into a table it is prone to snap and warp like a thin wafer. *** That¡¯s what brought us to me watching Tulos carefully whittle a new table. After he broke the old one, he went immediately quiet and calmly walked out to the shed to get to work like it was a foregone conclusion. The table he was currently whittling was his fourth attempt; he broke the first three by being too rough with his tools. Tina, similarly, went to the kennel to cool off after I told her to drop me near Tulos so that he could keep an eye on me. Or rather, so I could keep an eye on him. Fudge curled up protectively beside me when she did so. I could sense that a difficult conversation was brewing. Tina and Tulos needed to decide how to officially respond to Amy¡¯s actions. I got a hunch they wanted to bring down a reckoning. As for me¡­ I was torn, and I knew my opinion probably had the potential to sway them. It wasn¡¯t some misguided ¡®forgive and forget¡¯ tripe that gave me pause, either. Amy was wrong for what she did as far as I was concerned. Full stop, end of story. My hesitation was not for her benefit, even though I still sympathized with her on some level. My concern was Jusep. If Amy got punished or arrested or whatever happened in small towns like this one, then Jusep would be stuck with Costa - another grade-a grundle tuft of a person - as their sole parent. I just wasn¡¯t sure if going after Amy would be what was best for the kid¡­ ¡°Ethical dilemmas suck, Fudge,¡± I whispered to the affectionate dog who responded by nuzzling deeper into my lap. All I needed was a tram line and I¡¯d be in business. I needed to contact Lionel about my idea; I was holding onto some hope that I might be able to help Jusep. If making peace with Amy through Hwan could get me an opportunity to put that idea into practice¡­ Then it¡¯d be worth it. The course of action that I believed would best position me to help out a kid had to be the right one, right? Maybe? I sighed. I was probably going to mull it over some more for the sake of being thorough, I knew, but I felt a calm settle over me. I¡¯d made up my mind. Chapter 47 ¡°When considering your path through life, consider the tools you will need. Will you make them yourself, or hope equipment that can handle your greatness is provided to you? When children dream of being mighty warriors, they seldom give much consideration for where they get their sword.¡± ~Unknown ¡°Dad, I need to use the Mirrorscroll.¡± Tulos was gently dragging the flat of his axeblade over the recently constructed tabletop. Thanks to his Skill, the tool functioned similarly to sandpaper, but it was a mana intensive process; he had to take regular breaks. Tulos was technically at the same level of Advancement as me, albeit much further along than I was. I never bothered asking if he was already at the final bottleneck - it wasn¡¯t worth bothering the man on that topic to sate my curiosity for its own sake. It had rained the night before; not much, but enough to give the outside one of those ¡®it rained recently¡¯ smells, all damp and earthy. Tina had gone into town to talk to Hwan with a mind for reluctant diplomacy. Even though I was eventually successful in convincing the pair to be lenient for Jusep¡¯s sake, part of me felt like it was invalidating their legitimate anger concerning the situation. No, that¡¯s not the right way to think about it, I scolded myself. I shouldn¡¯t have regretted that they made the choice to support me. Better to be grateful for it instead. Yesterday, after tempers had marginally cooled and the incident was discussed, Tina was still contemplating violence. Honestly, part of me loved her for it. It was such a raw demonstration of the depths of her love, that someone hurting me could inspire such an extreme emotion. Mostly, I hated that she was put in that position to begin with. Tulos, too. Yesterday, for a split moment, Tulos reacted with unconsidered force and broke a table. Out of context, it might not sound like an issue beyond the property damage. Still, from what I knew about Tulos¡¯ past, I was worried he was beating himself up about it. Hopefully the Mirrorscroll will help distract him. Tulos carefully finished his current pass with the axe before giving me his attention. A small frown replaced the concentration in his face. ¡°You will have to wait for your mother to return. I am low on mana and-¡± ¡°That is not an issue,¡± I cut off Tulos¡¯ refusal. ¡°I want to try and use it myself.¡± ¡°Is that so?¡± The frown was gone, replaced by Tulos¡¯ version of amusement. I¡¯d gotten better at reading the man, but the changes to his expression were marginal as he cycled through emotions. ¡°Let me work until I need to take a break. It will not be much longer. We can sit down and try when I am finished.¡± ¡°Thanks, dad,¡± I chirped back, laying it on a little thick to underplay my injury. It would devalue my insistence that I was ¡®fine¡¯ if I winced or groaned with every other movement. My back was feeling notably better compared to yesterday, but it was still sore. Since we didn¡¯t own a mirror, I couldn¡¯t confirm it for myself, but Tina had informed me that there was a sizable bruise over the affected area. Not being able to visually track the impact of Recovery was unfortunate, but I¡¯d gained more proficiency points in the Skill yesterday than I had in weeks, so I had to assume my efforts were accomplishing something. The reason Tulos wanted to wait for Tina was the same reason he wasn¡¯t confident in helping me with the Mirrorscroll himself, not in his current condition, anyway. The expensive piece of Spellscripted parchment Lionel gifted to us would copy anything we wrote on it to the matching Mirrorscroll Lionel possessed. The problem was that properly operating the thing required the use of a technique not commonly utilized by people before their second Advancement. *** Tina explained how to use the Mirrorscroll the first time she helped Tulos sit down to write a letter with it a month or so ago. There was a section of the scroll marked with a ring of spellscript that left a blank space within its borders. ¡°After cleaning a little bit of my mana, I can send it to my fingertip and push it into the scroll.¡± Tina held up a finger while she spoke as if to demonstrate, but there was no slowly accumulating glow or anything like that, not to my senses at least. After a few moments of concentration, she followed her own instruction, and my eyes went wide as a faint pulse of light briefly illuminated the Spellscript. ¡°Is that-¡± ¡°Yes, it should be something in the notes Lionel left you.¡± The excitement in my voice must have choreographed what I was going to ask. I was getting better at reading my parents, but so too were they getting better at reading me. Tina studied me with narrowed eyes. ¡°I am impressed that you are properly following his instructions.¡± She was referring to the warning at the front of the impromptu booklet he¡¯d given me, the one full of little exercises to help me better manipulate and - eventually - recover my mana. Tina, presumably you will be checking this over unless your husband and son decide to hide it from you. In which case, one of them will be perusing my musings here. If that is the case, it will be one of you two who are reading. Stop. Show this to Tina. I wish to pass as an elder with a content smile, not as a young man getting pulverized beneath the crushing weight of a mother¡¯s fury. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Tina, these exercise sets are ordered as they are for a specific reason. Take the last four away until Will can demonstrate the culmination of the first six. Will should be encouraged to not move on or even read ahead until he is confident with the exercise he is currently working on. If he wishes to not heed this advice, so be it. It will set him back, but that would be his mistake to make. -Lionel At that point, the exercises had largely involved visualization, though in my case I found emphasizing the feeling of my mana was more effective. I had my suspicions Lionel¡¯s booklet was priming me to unlock Mana Sense as a Skill, or at the least develop a foundational proficiency in the ability without System assistance. My apparent affinity for the tactile variant was an added bonus. I never specifically told the goofball of a Slayer that I¡¯d turned down Mana Sense as an option during my first Advancement, just that I had doubts about the Skills I¡¯d chosen. Even in that moment of vulnerability, there were certain details I had been too scared to reveal. I decided to follow Lionel¡¯s advice and tackle the exercises sequentially. Worst case, the warning was there to screw with me, but I wasn¡¯t willing to risk ignoring solid advice to test it. Children often considered the words of adults as misguided, or their rules as too restrictive. Often, it isn¡¯t until they actually screw up and learn from the mistake that they see the value of those lessons in hindsight. I had already lived a life in which I fucked around and subsequently found out; those lessons were not lost on me. *** The sound of Tulos moving around the woodshed drew me from the recollection. ¡°Are you ready?¡± Evidently, he¡¯d caught me lost in thought. ¡°Definitely.¡± Tulos led me into the house, and I sat at the- Oh yeah, Tulos broke the table. I sat on the floor, which made me wince as the motion tickled my injury in unpleasant ways. Tulos fetched me a blunt, metal stylus and the Mirrorscroll. Fudge padded in after us, no longer interested in playing outside - since it was no longer the place I was at - and settled down for a rest. His tongue lolled with each breath from the exertion, and I could just about feel the heat of it from across the room. Tulos helped hold the scroll open and watched me curiously as I once again took in the elegant script and exquisite craftsmanship on display. I always envied people who could create with such dedication. My past tendencies to flutter from hobby to hobby meant that any truly impressive accomplishments were out of my reach, albeit through no one¡¯s fault but my own. I raised a finger, just as Tina did, and called upon Perseverance. Any lingering distractions were nudged to the wayside, for they represented a barrier between me and my goal. The second portion of Lionel¡¯s exercises had me moving mana around my body and learning the limits of my mana pathways. This, too, came to me easier than I anticipated. It was Recovery. At least, that¡¯s the conclusion Tina and I came to when I asked her about it. The Skill let me guide mana to the source of my injuries, and that experience translated to an easier time with controlling my mana in general. Lionel¡¯s exercises on the matter built on the foundation of visualization with concepts of movement; push, pull, twist, turn, they were all there. I didn¡¯t want to put the cart before the horse, but I couldn¡¯t help but suspect some type of Mana Manipulation Skill had to exist. I called on the Recovery. Mana touched by the Skill - a lot of it - entered my system. I began to will it towards my arm. The mana was quick to respond, though I felt a pang of unexpected resistance. It wanted to go to the injury on my back. I wondered if- Perseverance flared. Right, irrelevant, focus. It required the equivalent of some cognitive elbow grease, but I was able to correct course and gather the mana in my fingertip. I had been wondering for weeks what Tina meant by ¡®cleaning the mana¡¯. Resisting the urge to read ahead was agony, but I - perhaps unsurprisingly - persevered. The mana in my fingertip was, for lack of a better term, Recovery-Mana. The Mirrorscroll didn¡¯t respond to Recovery-Mana. If it was keyed to do so, it would severely limit its utility. Instead, it was keyed to what was effectively unattributed mana, but no one had that. Maybe infant babies had that, actually. Nope. Not important. The point was that I needed to clean my mana and make it unattributed. Lionel¡¯s notes mentioned that people could achieve the effect in a number of different ways, and it was more a matter of practice and discovering a method that worked for each individual. For me, it was the towel. Logically, it should have been a poor choice. When you wring out a towel, it¡¯s usually still damp. You can get a lot of the water out, maybe even most of it, but never all of it. It wasn¡¯t even one of the methods in Lionels¡¯ booklet, just an errant thought I had that I decided to indulge. When I did, I considered the one time wringing out a towel actually does work; cartoons. Fuck, I missed television sometimes. That longing motivated me to adjust my mental imagery; my mana was a cartoon towel and with a single, exaggerated wring it would be dry as a bone. It didn¡¯t quite work out that way, not immediately, but it did work. I repeated the action as I stared down at the Mirrorscroll, my face furrowed as I focused on the mental effort. The Recovery-Mana formed into a bright, green, cartoon towel covered in little yellow flowers. With a force of will, I wrung it and slowly squeezed out all the colour like drops of wet paint. It took several minutes and just as many attempts, but finally the towel was devoid of pigment; my mana was unattributed. It had also decreased in size significantly. Apparently, most people waited until they passed their Second Advancement before learning the technique barring special circumstances; it wasn¡¯t exactly an efficient process. I wouldn¡¯t have enough mana left to properly follow my usual training regime later. I looked at Tulos and nodded. He quirked an eyebrow then reached over to give me a supportive pat on the back. ¡°Well done.¡± ¡°Thanks, dad,¡± the reply came easy. The mana was already coating my finger, so I pushed it into the Spellscripted circle. When Tina said she pushed it into the circle, that was only a half-truth. The Mirrorscroll did most of the work, and as I felt the mana drain from my finger the magical item pulsed with light. I grinned. Interlude: Lionel ¡°Should markets be regulated? One might argue that stifling the impact of Skills related to commerce is wrong. Conversely, others might argue that the Skills themselves are immoral. This topic has garnered more research than I care to admit. People are quite passionate when it comes to their wealth.¡± ~Unknown One of Lionel¡¯s teachers once claimed that it was advanced forms of communication, the facilitation of shared knowledge and intelligence, that allowed humanity to keep the Beasts at bay. On some level, Lionel agreed. There was something bordering on romantic about the notion, to declare so brazenly that it was something so seemingly simple that gave them the edge. The bards sing of mighty Skills and the unyielding determination of the individual heroes, though, because an epic about language itself would be rather dull indeed. Those thoughts did little to make the Slayer Lieutenant feel any less disgusted at the tower of reports that had been neatly stacked on his desk. It would be oh so easy to¡­ Fantasies of a sharp whistle and a sudden inferno danced at the fringes of Lionel¡¯s mind in time with the flickering of imaginary flames. A tempting thought, but a grossly irresponsible one he knew he would never allow himself to indulge in. Instead, he pushed mana into his lungs and let it carry his will into the world on a far less destructive note of Spellsong. His mana ignited as it hit the air, forming a tiny ball of flame no larger than a fingernail. It followed his music, darting around the room to caress the wicks of myriad candles. Such gentle kisses spawned flame and light and the calming scent of meditative flowers infused into the candle wax. It would be another late night. When was the last time I slept¡­ Even for those whose Tier could push back fatigue, doing so in excess was ill advised. Lionel reached up to touch the skin under his eyes, wincing as he felt the forming bags. Tomorrow, for sure¡­. It was the same promise he¡¯d made to himself the night before. It took a conscious effort to suppress the effects of Perception [Auditory]. Even without actively engaging the Skill, his mana was so innately attuned to sound that the symphony of insects copulating in between the walls of the keep would make themselves known to him without deliberate intervention. Even the beating of his own heart would be maddening if Lionel lacked the ability to properly modulate his mana. The first few months after an Advancement were always the worst. Not that I am anywhere close to my next one. Lionel considered opening his System to analyze the situation, or perhaps fondly review the Skill Augmentations that allowed him to more accurately parse and process sound without melting his brain. One did not become a Slayer Lieutenant without discipline, though. Such idle thoughts were squashed beneath the weight of duty and obligation. ¡°I hate when I have to be responsible,¡± Lionel muttered under his breath as he pulled the first report from the pile to review. He took a deep breath, letting the rejuvenating scent of the candles work their magic; literally. Whatever cocktail of Skills went into their creation helped amplify the restorative effects of the infused medicines. Exhaustion was further held at bay by aroma, and Lionel felt his concentration sharpen like a worn blade thrust upon the whetstone. It was a good thing, too. The reports were not welcome ones. Most of it was standard fare, the myriad small things that the supporting staff at the keep needed his seal of approval for. There were people who could assume that responsibility when Lionel was out on assignment, but the Captain had insisted he not give up the role entirely - something about the burden of leadership being a crucible for growth. Lionel¡¯s eyes darted across the pages, looking for enough key words to get the gist before giving them the stamp. Seldom were the requests unreasonable, and given the recent uptick in Beast incidents, the Slayers were flush with funding. Small victories, I suppose. The main reports requiring Lionel¡¯s attention were notably thicker and decisively more grim. Fueha attacks, Ostard nests, even a swarm of Mitents. That last one provoked a shudder from Lionel as he scanned the paperwork; it was an incident he¡¯d personally had to attend to several weeks prior. The report needed one final review before being submitted to the archive. *** ¡°What of the holdouts?¡± It was Kortez who asked the question as he and Lionel were making their final approach. They did so on foot, for the horses would attract the wrong kind of attention; they were large enough to tempt fringe Mitents to forgo their preferred diet. ¡°You know as well as I do that their demise is all but a certainty.¡± There was no joy in Lionel¡¯s tone as the grim statement left his lips. There were some things even he had trouble poking fun at. Why are some people so stubborn when¡­ The thought was left unfinished; he knew the answer. Whenever there was a crisis, there were always those who refused to follow sense and evacuate, to sacrifice their connection to a place in order to preserve their lives. They were tethered by memory and emotion so strong that neither sense nor self-preservation could pull them away. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°So we look out for them anyway?¡± Kortez was double checking the straps on his shield, giving them a final tug to ensure they were secure. ¡°Yeah, we look out for them anyway.¡± Lionel forced a small smile; Kortez had been under his command long enough to figure out how he operated. ¡°Do you ever plan to grow out of that heroic shit?¡± Kortez returned a grin framed by a dark goatee. Instead of shaving his face, the older Slayer maintained a smooth, olive-toned scalp. There was apparently a story behind that, though not even Lionel had been able to wrestle it out of him yet. ¡°Alas, heroism finds itself bound to me by fate and-¡± ¡°Bullshit?¡± ¡°Despite my passion for candor, I still outrank you.¡± Lionel¡¯s tone was flat as he gave the rebuke. Kortez busied himself double and triple checking the various pockets and pouches on his attire. ¡°Apologies. Bullshit, sir?¡± Kortez maintained a straight face. Lionel almost cracked. ¡°In essence,¡± Lionel eventually managed to respond without risking a chuckle. Most of the Slayers in his unit had picked up some of his eccentricities through shared contact and experiences. No doubt he¡¯d collected a few of theirs as well; such was the way of things. Companionable silence carried the Slayers through the rest of their short journey, a chance to mentally steel themselves in case horrors awaited them. The gentle crunch of dirt sliding under boot tickled Lionel¡¯s ears with every step, and before long the small village they¡¯d been called to came into view. Rather, what was left of it did. The homes and businesses were gone, and all but a few remained on the fringes, though even those were riddled with holes and barely standing. If anyone survived, they aren¡¯t going to be in the village proper. Where once a village stood, an off-gray mound had taken its place, rising higher into the air than most buildings at its tallest points. Large holes dotted the irregular structure, seemingly positioned at random. ¡°At least they will have plenty of material to use for the reconstruction,¡± Lionel remarked. Kortez didn¡¯t respond for a long moment, his eyes were busy scanning the village. ¡°There,¡± he eventually said. ¡°Near the perimeter closest to us, slightly to the West.¡± Lionel was already looking in the same direction, having listened for the Beast closest to the surface. It wasn¡¯t the only one he¡¯d heard, either, merely the closest. With six skittering legs on each Mitent, the sound was hard to miss. ¡°I see it.¡± Mitents were the size of a small dog and resembled an unholy union between rat and insect. Carapace-like armor covered their bodies, while tufts of fur creeped out between each plate like weeds between slabs of concrete. They sported two sets of compound eyes and a rodent-like snout, complete with their signature incisors. Their lower jaws were split and concealed sharp mandibles that could fold out and allow them to more easily grip their food. ¡°The colony grew fast,¡± Kortez said flatly. ¡°That it did¡­¡± ¡°Do I want to know?¡± ¡°No, but I will indulge you with the details anyway. There¡¯s probably at least a hundred based on what I heard.¡± There was a beat of silence. ¡°Heard? So you are not-¡± ¡°Actively keeping tabs? No. I need to conserve mana for this, but we are both aware what will happen once we disturb the colony. I take it you want to go with a controlled position instead of a wide scale effort?¡± ¡°Definitely.¡± The two Slayers stood shoulder-to-shoulder as they discussed their plans in shorthand built from familiarity. A faint breeze rolled through the area as they watched the Mitent scurry over the hardened gray structure before disappearing down another of the holes. ¡°Any guess as to how they ended up this far from The Forest? This is not exactly a fringe village,¡± Kortez asked. It was also why the job had been made such a high priority. Lionel thought for a moment before shrugging. ¡°A guess? Definitely, though I would rather not flavor your own judgment with my speculation. We can share our wrong ideas once we uncover the truth.¡± Kortez just laughed, it was the forced laugh of a man about to throw himself into danger. ¡°In that case, I have run out of stalling tactics.¡± ¡°You and I both know that is not true, but I agree with the sentiment. Shall we?¡± In response to Lionel¡¯s question, Kortez rolled his neck from side to side, producing a pair of satisfying cracks for the effort. ¡°Yeah, may as well.¡± *** A knock at the door pulled Lionel from his thoughts. The report emphasized certain aspects of the mission more than others, but reading them was enough to send Lionel back into the moment. ¡°Come in,¡± he called after taking a moment to stifle a yawn and rub his eyes. The candles helped, but they weren¡¯t a replacement for sleep. Kortez strode into the office wearing the marks of recent travel. He came to a stop a respectable distance away from the Lieutenant''s desk and waited to be addressed. Within the walls of the keep, certain formalities were best adhered to, lest someone decide to make a political issue of the whole thing. ¡°Slayer Kortez, I take it you have come to grace my desk with another thoroughly constructed report. It is good to see you made it back safely.¡± ¡°Another gem for the pile, sir,¡± Kortez fired back without missing a beat. Certain formalities were adhered to, not all of them. Lionel stood up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before making his way to the door. ¡°Come on, you can give me the footnotes while we go rouse the chef. I suspect you will want to regale me over a hot meal, and I could use a quick reprieve. I was reading the Mitent report.¡± Kortez chuckled before following behind his Lieutenant. ¡°Yeah, that would do it.¡± The door closed behind them with a dull thunk. Moments later, it quickly opened back up enough for Lionel to stick his head back in. With a quick whistle, the candles around the room rapidly extinguished, leaving the office in darkness. Chapter 48 ¡°The bravest of the brave seek their fortunes beneath the waves. Even those determined to simply pass over them on ships wrought of Skilled materials and workmanship do so knowing the danger of what lurks below. Not even my thirst for knowledge could convince me to risk prolonged submersion out at sea. I value my life too much. ~Unknown
Uncle Lionel, I need your help, or rather, your guidance. Mum sometimes grumbles that giving me that booklet means you need to take responsibility for me as your pupil. I think she might be jealous that you delved into mana exercises before she did. Either that or she is terrified by the prospect of you teaching me.
I had to resist the urge to write ¡®lol¡¯ or some other type of online abbreviation; it had been years since I¡¯d actually written any type of letter or similar correspondence, and evidently I defaulted to the type of language I¡¯d use in online forums or message boards. I lifted the stylus and took a moment to compose myself. Once Tulos saw that I had everything working okay, he went to busy himself in the kitchen, peeling vegetables that would be used in dinner later that night. It was the kind of small gesture that made me appreciate his style of parenting. By and large, I was given the freedom and privacy necessary to do my own thing without him hovering overhead. Despite that, I knew that if I needed him, he¡¯d give me his attention. I suppose on some level he also doesn¡¯t expect much to go wrong while I simply pen- stylus- pen? While I write a letter. Tulos flicked his eyes over in my direction and saw that I¡¯d stopped writing. ¡°Everything okay?¡± He was using a small hatchet to peel the vegetables and kept working without looking, the tool a natural extension of his hand. ¡°Yeah. I was just trying to remember a word.¡± It was the kind of white lie that would prompt Bella to glare at me if she were around. I couldn¡¯t exactly tell Tulos I was reminiscing about L33T speak. Tulos paused. ¡°Do you need my help?¡± ¡°I figured it out.¡± With a small nod, Tulos went back to work. He almost looked disappointed for a second there. I frowned but decided to shelve that thought for later. I returned to the letter.
I have been using my Skills to help myself. Is it also possible to share the magic with other people? I think my Skills would be a big help to one of my friends. I want to help them. If you cannot help me, I will try to figure it out myself. Until I am certain that it is impossible, I do not want to give up. I do not think I can. Thank you. -Will
When I finished writing, I went through the process of cleaning another portion of my mana to finalize the message. Even though I used a stylus to write, the words I printed on the page looked as if they were penned in ink. I could not even begin to fathom how or why the enchantments on the scroll worked the way they did, but I grew increasingly convinced that the scroll Lionel so casually gave us was worth a ludicrous amount. I watched as the Spellscript flashed and flared before settling into dormancy as a faint weariness similarly settled over me. That took a lot of mana¡­ A dull pressure made itself known behind my eyes; not quite exhaustion, not quite pain, yet somehow both and also a sense of imbalance born of absence. It reminded me of that one time I got drunk on absinthe. ¡°Dad, I think I need to go lay down. Will you wake me if Uncle Lionel messages back?¡± To be on the safe side, I stopped trickling mana into Recovery and Perseverance which caused the physical discomfort caused by my injury to spike, yet another reason I had no desire to remain upright longer than necessary. ¡°Probably not,¡± Tulos said without looking up from his work. ¡°You did well. Go rest.¡± I wasn¡¯t in any position to complain so I wandered to my room and crawled into bed for a nap. I felt Fudge jump on the bed to join me right as I dozed off. *** I didn¡¯t get a reply that day, but I did learn how Tina¡¯s visit to Hwan went¡­ sort of. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°The absolute nerve of those people. Love, hear me, but we may end up on the run after I snap that bitc- bit of bad lumber out back.¡± Tina clumsily cut off her tirade when she noticed me sticking my head into the room. It was evening and my parents sat cuddled up against one another while Tina vented her frustrations. That is to say, I got the impression the visit had gone poorly. ¡°Did it not go well?¡± I asked as a stab of guilt intruded on my empty stomach. By all accounts, I was largely responsible for persuading Tina and Tulos to be merciful in their handling of the situation. I can understand their irritation¡­ Tina scoffed, less at me and more at the question itself. ¡°¡®Did it not go well¡¯, he asks.¡± She gestured vaguely in her continued campaign to conduct an imaginary symphony with every conversation. ¡°My Will, these people make me want to-¡± As words failed to fully express her feelings, she instead mimed strangling the air. I mean, yeah, that¡¯ll do it. It didn¡¯t seem like a good time to ask about my letter, and a firm look from Tulos reinforced that line of thinking. Vigil isn¡¯t in the house, either¡­ ah. There was a possibility he wasn¡¯t thinking about the letter. ¡°I am actually very tired, still.¡± I mimed an arm-stretching yawn. ¡°So I will be going back to bed now.¡± Without waiting for a response I made my way back to my room and climbed back into bed. My mana had recovered enough that I was able to urge my Skills back to life to soothe my injury and aid in the healing process; it was getting marginally easier to give the magic a vague direction and let it do its thing without having to split my focus. Progress, you love to see it. Fudge hadn¡¯t roused when I did, seemingly content to take his time. It worked out for him, in the end, since he got to remain cozy during my brief jaunt outside the room. As my head hit the pillow I wrapped the side up around my head to block my ears. Just because I was mature enough not to make a big deal about the existence of my new parent¡¯s sex life didn¡¯t mean I enjoyed thinking about it. Or having to listen to it¡­ I pulled the pillow in tighter. It was not the first time I¡¯d had to take such measures and it wouldn¡¯t be the last. The walls were thick but the house was small; it was what it was. I let myself sink into my thoughts and away from the material world. Hopefully sleep would reclaim me. ***
Will, While I am delighted to witness both the quality of your calligraphy and the relative robustness of your vocabulary in action, I must concede that your letter was concerning. Tell me, Will, do you not worry that pursuing such a goal will expedite your discovery? Anonymity is your ally. I would like to propose a compromise. Wait until you achieve your next Advancement before pursuing this goal. Your foundation will be better suited to the task, your mana reserves will be more robust, and the breadth of your Skills will expand like the unfurling of a mighty flower. If you do this, I anticipate you will have an easier time learning the techniques than most. For you to rush would be a detriment in the long run, and I cannot in good faith support that course of action. -Uncle Lionel
I read and re-read the reply, feeling equal parts relieved and frustrated. Lionel¡¯s standard display of flowery prose did little to improve my reception of the message nested within the words. Well¡­ fuck. Sometimes it was the simple thoughts that were the most honest, the most sincere and suitable to sum up a situation. Given how downright flippant the man seemed to be on most matters, for him to take such a definitive stance against my plan was telling. Even so¡­ Advancement is years away. There would be no shortcuts, not that I was aware of. I had my suspicions as to why the Slayers I¡¯d met seemed so strong relative to their age, but that method wasn¡¯t a realistic option; putting myself into life-or-death situations for the sake of ¡®training¡¯ sounded like a borderline braindead maneuver even as I let myself humor the thought. Yeah, that¡¯s not happening. What was the alternative, though? I could smash my head on a figurative wall to try and crack the secrets of sharing my Skills with others. Doing so might also take years, slow down my Advancement progress and ultimately leave me worse off. I¡¯d already made Tina and Tulos bottle up their frustrations for the sake of leaving me the sliver of a window to help Jusep, and now I would have to tell them how long it would take. FUCK. It sucked. There would be no easy solution, no magic ring, no sudden help from the System to let me cheat my way to what I wanted. It would take time and hard work. No shortcuts. And in the meantime I get to remind myself every day how fucking powerless I am. If I can¡¯t even help one kid right in front of me, how the hell am I supposed to get¡­ I didn¡¯t let myself finish the thought. Instead, I put the scroll back in its case without sending a reply. I was worried I¡¯d say something I¡¯d come to regret if I did. ¡°Come on Fudge.¡± My voice was flat, but he perked up all the same to follow me out of the house. I wanted to run until I couldn¡¯t, then I¡¯d use my Skills to run anyway. No shortcuts. Chapter 49 ¡°Some might think to craft a Build so multifaceted that they will be prepared for anything life can throw at them. It is often those people who life catches off guard.¡± ~Unknown Running with my damaged back had been agony. Each footfall sent a shock up my leg that rattled my spine and made my eyes water. Flaring Perseverance and Recovery was all I could do to keep me from collapsing. Within the hour, I had drained through most of my mana; a waste born of petulance. I pushed myself to run further, even as the characteristic pressure behind my eyes began to throb the foreboding song celebrating my almost-empty reserves. Fudge began to whine as every stab of pain almost sent me to my knees. There were moments when I felt Taming [Dog] briefly flare only to sputter out, as if desperately trying to help but being unable to do so. Even so.. I could have sworn that each flare of the Skill brought about a wave of temporary relief. Fudge¡¯s discomfort pulled me out of my frustrations. He had no way of understanding what was happening, of my need in that moment to bury mounting frustrations beneath something - anything. To him, I was just hurting for no reason¡­ ¡°Sorry, boy,¡± I muttered between deep, shuddering gasps. As if on cue, that was around the time Tulos realized I wasn¡¯t in my room like I was supposed to be. In his defense, I was usually good at following instructions. Our discussion on the matter ultimately boiled down to a single exchange. ¡°If you promise not to do that again, I will not tell your mother about it.¡± There was no yelling, no scolding, just a deal that I was more than willing to accept. I wrote Lionel back the next day. Cleaning my mana for the Mirrorscroll was marginally easier, a sign of progress that would normally lift my spirits. It felt hollow.
Uncle Lionel, I understand. -Will
There wasn¡¯t much else to say. Sunrise. Sunset. Each day rolled into the other. Routine. Routine. Routine. I told my parents about my plans for Jusep. I also told them about Lionel¡¯s warning. I couldn¡¯t risk the possibility of the adults in my life sharing that information. It was a matter of trust. If I kept that secret, Tina and Tulos might come to question what else I might be hiding. Those were dangerous thoughts for them to have. Trust matters, and they¡¯d also earned mine. It was in the soft, concerned turning of Tulos¡¯ lips and the sympathetic sheen of Tina¡¯s eyes. There are simply some looks that speak volumes. As I shared my doubts and shame, my parents wore expressions that crowed their love and understanding. There were many things in my new life to be thankful for. It was hard to remember that, sometimes. Even so¡­ I knew I was thankful for them. ¡°I want to Advance as soon as possible so that I can help Jusep,¡± I eventually told them, feeling a stab of guilt for only telling them a half-truth in the face of their parental compassion. They were hesitant, at first. Each half-stuttered sentence starter reminded me that they were wrestling with their own perceptions. To them, I was a boy more mature than his years thanks to Perseverance accelerating my development. A misconception, but one that ultimately spawned the question: could a child like me, even a clever one, really make such important decisions on their own? They were torn on the answer. Over the following days, we talked, we planned¡­ and we compromised. In the end, Tina and Tulos were willing to support my drive for Advancement, but not at the expense of my childhood. I had to promise to make time to play, to socialize, to ¡®be a kid¡¯. It was a point they wouldn¡¯t budge on. Truthfully, I couldn¡¯t fault them on it either. I¡¯d just have to figure out a way to multitask. *** If there were any further conflicts spawned from the Amy incident, they didn¡¯t make their way to my ears. So far as I was aware, the situation had been dealt with by Hwan and Tina. Alternatively, it could have been that I was being sheltered from ¡®adult problems¡¯. Either way, I was content to let the matter lie until I was in a position to do something about it. I had more important things to focus on. Advancement beckoned, and I was no longer content to work at a measured pace. I trusted Lionel¡¯s judgment; I would be best positioned to help Jusep after Advancement. That meant every day, every second I could shave off the time it took me to hit that milestone would be a victory. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. My routine became an unflinching thing wrought from steel. Every morning I would flare my mana into Perseverance and banish any traitorous reluctance that dared creep into my mind as I slept. There were no excuses. I had no job, no real responsibilities, if I couldn¡¯t get my shit together under those circumstances - with the aid of literal magic, no less - then I would never accomplish anything. Weeks passed. Months. I pushed my body to its limit. Tulos told me that my early Advancement would spare me many of the detrimental effects of extreme exercise with a young body. The bruise on my back healed within a week, and I was similarly spared any long lasting issues. Recovery was starting to show its worth, and the windfall of proficiency points I gained over that period of time made it clear that I couldn¡¯t keep ignoring such an important facet of the Skill. Now that I had experienced first-hand how Recovery would help me treat injuries, it was like the loosening of a mental lock. A cognitive tumbler clicked into place. Injuries would hurt, but I would get better. It made justifying my more extreme Skill training choices easier. It could never be anything big; I wanted to keep my efforts secret from Tina and Tulos as much as possible. The injuries I inflicted on myself needed to look like they came about naturally. Accidentally. One week I punched a tree until my knuckles bled. I think I fractured something, too. Another week I stomped on a pointed rock, then I had to dig it out and run despite the injury. It sucked. At no point did I enjoy the pain and more than once I needed Perseverance active to even follow through with my actions. Even so¡­ I regretted nothing. Do it for her. Every moment of doubt, I reminded myself why I was pushing myself so hard. I wasn¡¯t ignorant to what I was doing. I told people, I told myself, that I was working so hard for Jusep¡¯s sake. It was true, as well, but Jusep was ultimately only a short-term goal, something attainable I could use as a stepping stone towards the true heights of my ambitions. There was only one person I shared the true scope of my plans to. Well, one dog. Fudge. Whenever I needed to push myself beyond my limits, I made sure to reassure him that it was for a good cause. I knew he couldn¡¯t understand the words, not really, but I threw everything I could at the Tamer Bond to make sure my feelings came across. It was difficult, but it got easier. All of my Skills were growing, and even the lessons with my parents, or practice with mana manipulation saw steady improvement as I became a human grindstone. It was the type of thing I could never have conceived myself accomplishing in my first life. I was changing¡­ but those thoughts were for the night. ***
Dog Level 9/10*
The asterisk was new. Fudge had continued to grow, as young dogs were wont to do, and with every passing day he crept closer to the first bottleneck. I had to assume the newest addition to his System window meant that he had hit it. I didn¡¯t mention the asterisk to Tina, but hinted that I had a sense of Fudge being ready to Advance, an explanation she seemed happy to accept. Since that revelation didn¡¯t surprise her, I felt content in my initial conclusion. Once I hit the bottleneck in Taming [Dog] Tina would show me how to guide Fudge through his first Advancement. That day was likely still at least a year away. My progress with the Tier-0 Skills was notably faster than it had been with Perseverance. I had the mana and relative control necessary to more actively push the Skills beyond the realm of the mundane. Even so, time remained my biggest barrier. It gave me more time to work with Fudge. I continued my games with him, the activities that might hopefully unlock some kind of Skill enabling him to become the ¡®Schrodinger¡¯s Cat¡¯ of dogs. Most of them felt foolish, but I had a breakthrough. I¡¯d been periodically dedicating a portion of mana to Recovery to slowly revitalize my memories of all things ¡®quantum¡¯. Again, I was no physicist, but surely there were nuggets of valuable insight sprinkled throughout decades of media and a few high school textbooks. I had remembered quantum superposition because of Schrodinger¡¯s Cat being so prolific in the zeitgeist, but there were other quantum theories. The one that sparked my newest idea was quantum entanglement. My understanding was limited, but I was under the impression it could be summarized as two ¡®things¡¯ inexplicably joined despite the distance between them. If something impacted one, it would be experienced by the other¡­ kinda. One day, as I was pushing calming emotions over to Fudge before attempting a bout of self-injury, a thought came to mind. Isn¡¯t the Tamer Bond kind of like quantum entanglement? Fudge and I were connected and could affect each other over increasingly long distances. It was a stretch, but still¡­ Having another avenue to explore, to exploit, as I pushed for Advancement was more than welcome. ***
Taming [Dog] Level 9/10 Current proficiency points: 899/900
I was eight years old when it finally happened. I stared at the screen as excitement threatened to overwhelm me. Months- years of hard work had paid off. A lot happened during that time¡­ but honestly, not a lot of it could be considered significant. To my knowledge, Jusep remained largely withdrawn, though that was only going off of the brief, irregular updates Hwan gave us. Tulos remained diligent in his work. Tina had raised and sold another couple of litters to serve as livestock guardians both in Elbura and in the surrounding towns and villages. It was business as usual. The sound of a baby crying yanked me from my thoughts. ¡­ Almost business as usual. Chapter 50 ¡°Be warned. Unpracticed muscle augmentations can cause crippling injuries. It is highly recommended you reach a minimum level of proficiency in the technique, lest you accidentally do so spontaneously as a Tier-Three while struggling at the privy.¡± ~Unknown For what I hope were obvious reasons, the inquiries I made into my new life seldom strayed to contraceptives. That line of questioning was and would be off limits to me for years. I wasn¡¯t disillusioned regarding the intimate activities my parent¡¯s shared. I just went to great lengths to avoid the details. That is to say, I knew academically that a sibling was a possibility. I just tried not to think about it. The announcement of Tina¡¯s pregnancy shattered my willful ignorance. There were no issues, no complications, no refunds nor restitutions and nine months later my baby brother was born. Marco. For the time being, the crib had been set up in my parent¡¯s room. In hindsight, mine was probably in there as well, at first. I lacked the clear recollection of that time period necessary to accurately discern what room I was in while in my infancy. I barely remembered being anything at all beyond tired and uncomfortable. As I walked to investigate the latest bout of crying, Fudge trailed after me. He was fascinated by the new child, though much like when I was a baby, Vigil had claimed the role of being the newborn''s guardian. It meant Fudge didn¡¯t get much time with Marco unless I acted as escort. ¡°Hey, is everything okay?¡± I poked my head into the room laced with a vague ¡®baby smell¡¯. Tina was holding Marco such that his tiny head rested against her shoulder. I smiled softly at the sight. The comfort I felt when Tina held me the same way was one of the few memories I had that pierced the fugue of infancy. When Fudge snaked his head in from over my shoulder, Vigil huffed. He was resting on the ground and taking up most of the floor space, as usual. ¡°Your baby brother had an upset stomach,¡± Tina whispered, careful not to jostle the baby. Already his cries had started to die down. I just nodded and left the two of them alone. Seldom did Tina actually need or ask for my help, but I still felt obligated to offer it. It is still wild to think I have a baby brother in this world, I- I paused mid-step and poked my head back into the room. ¡°Oh, mom, by the way¡­ Taming has hit the bottleneck.¡± I allowed myself a slight pause for dramatic effect. Part of the reason I¡¯d come out was to tell Tina about the milestone. ¡°That is fantastic news, Will,¡± she whispered back. I could see the excitement play in her eyes. ¡°When do you want to-¡± ¡°There is no rush,¡± I lied, but I couldn¡¯t exactly ask her to drop baby Marco, like a bowl that had spent too long in the microwave, and prioritize helping me. I did my best to keep my expression even, but Tina must have spotted something I couldn¡¯t quite conceal. ¡°I can help you and Fudge tomorrow,¡± she promised, still talking softly. She paced around the room on gentle steps while my brother slept in her arms. ¡°Have you decided how you want him to Advance?¡± ¡°I have some ideas,¡± I said, purposefully skirting the truth. Tina and Tulos were still ignorant regarding my ¡®quantum dog¡¯ experiments with Fudge. I hadn¡¯t quite figured out how I was going to explain the situation if my efforts paid off, but it was a risk I was willing to take. With a wave and a quiet excuse, I left Tina to the baby Marco while I went outside with Fudge. One of the ridiculous games I¡¯d devised involved me laying my arm alongside Fudge¡¯s outstretched front leg. I then closed my eyes and lightly swatted a point in which the blow would hit both of us¡­ or not. My logic was that I wouldn¡¯t know if Fudge moved their leg out of the way until I perceived the impact or lack thereof, and if I did, it was a shared experience - a quantum entanglement. ¡­ System, I really hope mana can bridge the gap for me on this one. It¡¯s going to be one hell of a gap. I took a deep breath, focusing on the feeling of the cool air making its way into my body. ¡°Intent is important,¡± I muttered. There was little sense in second guessing myself - it would work. It had to. *** The rest of that day passed while the knot of unease in my stomach fed on the flashes of doubt that slipped through my defenses. There was a weight to it, and the wait was no help. I busied myself, I periodically pulsed Perseverance, and I repeated my mantra. Intent is important. The time seemed to pass instantly despite dragging on forever, which ironically soothed my worries. If I was a bastion of relativity, then perhaps I would be better positioned to guide Fudge to success. Finally, I found myself sitting on the floor of my room. Fudge was resting beside me. Tina was seated opposite us. No Marco. No Tulos. Not even Vigil. ¡°This technique will allow Fudge to cross the bottleneck of his Core Skill. It is not because Fudge is an exceptional example of his species on his own.¡± Tina let that statement hang, which must have been intentional. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°I disagree,¡± I snapped back almost immediately, which prompted a slight smile from my exhausted mother. Even with the benefit of her Tier, I could tell the sleepless nights with Marco were starting to wear on her and Tulos. I have been so absorbed in my Advancement that I have barely helped, I realized. It wasn¡¯t as if I hadn¡¯t helped with chores and the various other additional workloads that come with a baby in the house, but I knew I could have been doing more. I was being selfish. Even so¡­ I need to be selfish right now. Tulos and Tina had raised one baby, they could handle this. I flared Perseverance before I let myself doubt the resolve. I had a Skill to push through the bottleneck, two if you included Fudge¡¯s. ¡°Normally, that would be the correct answer, my Will. Today, it is not. Today, we are going to prove that what makes Fudge exceptional is his Bond to you.¡± Her tone was gentle as it was firm. Another oddity, I remarked to myself. Let me become the absurdity that is quantum anything, and let that be reflected in Fudge. I would take any help I could get. As much as Tina¡¯s words wrinkled me the wrong way, I knew they had a purpose. ¡°Intent is important,¡± I whispered aloud, to which Tina nodded approvingly. She had overheard my mantra before and approved of it. ¡°Exactly. Your Skill will be the guiding hand that lays the foundation for Fudge¡¯s Advancement.¡± Before continuing, Tina cleared her throat and then spoke in a poor imitation of my voice. ¡°The Bond is also important,¡± she chirped before sticking her tongue out at me. The knot of unease loosened as a giggle overcame me. System, that was dumb, I thought affectionately. Tina¡¯s smile turned triumphant and I allowed myself to laugh even harder. It had become her mission to catch me off guard with childish moments. Evidently that even extended to discussions that should have been serious. ¡°You look proud of yourself,¡± I teased. ¡°Why, whatever could you be talking about, my Will?¡± She made no effort to hide the mischief in her expression. This is somewhat of a break for her as well, I guess. An obvious realization, in hindsight. When discussing Taming, Tina was in her element. ¡°Okay, I think I understand what I need to do,¡± I said, pulling the discussion back on topic. ¡°You think you understand, or you do?¡± Tina¡¯s rebuttal came quick and sharp. I admittedly goaded the response with my feigned uncertainty, but it had been enough to make her serious again. ¡°I understand,¡± I confirmed, which earned me another approving nod. Throughout our entire conversation, Fudge rested patiently by my side. He stirred briefly at my giggling, but he¡¯d otherwise come to learn that while Tina and I were talking he would be expected to avoid distracting me unless otherwise commanded. Doggy discipline had been one of the fundamentals of our lessons with Tina. ¡°In that case, we can begin. Put your hands on fudge to better feel the connection and-¡± ¡°Actually, mom, I want to try and do it from across the room.¡± I chimed in before Tina could finish. She quirked an eyebrow at me. ¡°That will make it harder, Will,¡± she counseled. ¡°Touch will better help you visualize the connection.¡± ¡°I know. I still want to try. Doing things that are hard is what my Core Skill is for,¡± I argued. I gently reached down to give Fudge a pat anyway, drawing confidence from the contact. Tina looked like she was about to argue but she hesitated instead. ¡°That¡­ is a good point, Will. Okay.¡± I had been expecting more pushback but evidently Tina was doing her best to respect our agreement on both fronts. Hopefully Marco would give her a more traditional parenting experience. Not relevant right now. I pulsed Perseverance and moved away from Fudge who stayed put after hearing his command to do so. My connection to Fudge transcends space. We are Bonded. We are quantumly entangled because of Fudge. As his Tamer, I will leverage that power to pull Fudge through his Skill bottleneck. I began trying to psyche myself up by solidifying my intent. ¡°Okay, now what?¡± I closed my eyes, focusing only on Tina¡¯s words. ¡°To put it as simply as possible, you will reach down through your Bond with Taming and propel both it and Fudge¡¯s Dog Skill through the bottleneck. The act of succeeding with one will catapult the other.¡± It was the kind of esoteric explanation I¡¯d come to associate with matters of mana and the System. Instead of Advancing Taming with a more mundane application of the Skill, I was to grasp the ephemeral. I could likely ask for more advice if I needed it, but I wanted to try and tackle the problem myself as much as possible. These were the training wheels. At higher levels, I would have to figure things out on my own. I would accept help, but I couldn¡¯t be reliant on it. Breathe in. Breathe out. Intent is important. I visualized my Core Space, drawing on memories of my Advancement and the feeling of the Bond. Intent is important. I could have followed the Bond to Fudge, but I knew I didn¡¯t need to. We were connected. Always. Distance was meaningless. Intent is important. I reached out, and pulled. Chapter 51 ¡°Anyone who cracks the spine of one of my books shall, in turn, have their spine cracked by the gentleman I pay to crack the spines of people who crack the spines of my books. Are we clear?¡± ~Unknown I anticipated resistance. I anticipated reluctance. Hesitation. There were none of those things. When Fudge felt my ephemeral touch - the impressions of intent delivered to him through the Tamer Bond - there was no fear. There was immediate acceptance. Unconditional love and trust screamed at me from Fudge¡¯s end with a potence and clarity that I had never felt before. There was no need for justification. There was no need for logic and argument. I wanted to raise Fudge up with me, and that was enough for him. We don¡¯t deserve dogs. It was overwhelming. I felt a surge of growth in Taming [Dog]. Mana and strength I did not know I possessed briefly flooded my everything. I felt the sensation echoing within Fudge. Had he reacted in the waking world? I couldn¡¯t tell, not at first. There was nothing except- My paws twitched at the rush of strength. I tried to stand but everything was so strange. So different. A change was coming, but I felt safe. For the barest of moments, it felt like I was Fudge; my desire to check on his well being made manifest in the rush of Advancement. I didn¡¯t even know something like that was possible. Could it be duplicated? There was no time to dwell on it. Perseverance flared, adding iron to my will as I urged the process further, clearing my mind from distractions. Fudge and I are connected, entangled through magic, quantum circumstance, everything. I urged my mana, bolstered by the Advancing Taming Skill, to... I don¡¯t even know what. Reinforce the conviction? Make it real? Both? It felt like the right thing to do, like a nudge from the Skill itself, so I continued unabated. As I Advance, so too will Fudge Advance. My strength is his. His strength is mine. Intent is important. I felt Fudge¡¯s mana bolster my own as my mana in turn bolstered his. There was no distance for it to travel, no need for it to move through a connection. The space between us was meaningless. We were CONNECTED. A pressure began to build in a place beyond identification, I only knew that it came from within me, but also without. Something was bending. Warping. The discomfort turned to pain, but with that sharp stab of pain came immediate relief. Something had snapped. Something had been reforged in fire and ice and a connection that was written into the fabric of reality. My eyes snapped open and I gasped. Tina was nearby, her expression tense, her gaze filled with worry. I paid it no mind. I only had eyes for the System notification that hung in front of me.
Taming [Fudge] Level 10/10 Advancement Bonuses
  • Tier 1: Skill has been fundamentally altered.
Unlock Condition: Fundamentally alter the nature of a Taming Bond. Skill Augmentations (1/1) This Skill is only capable of supporting a single type of Skill Augmentation. The choice has been made automatically.
  • Taming [Fudge] (Minor)
That¡­ isn¡¯t the Advancement Bonus I was expecting. I read and re-read the notification. It also didn¡¯t tell me much. That wasn¡¯t exactly news when it came to how the System operated, but the descriptions felt especially thin in this instance, as if not even the System could properly condense the situation into a brief sentence of two. Well, actually, I suppose it kind of did. Fundamentally altered¡­ The alteration was reflected in the name of the Skill, and as my mind raced through the likely implications my stomach dropped. Taming [Fudge]. A Skill that would, presumably, only work on Fudge. On one hand, I had been told that the more specific a Skill was, the more efficient it was when acting within its purview. Being able to throw more mana at something provided both the potential for bursts of power or longevity. Forget just improving my ability to influence Fudge¡¯s Advancement, the new Skill would likely improve every aspect of the Skill in a big way¡­ But only for Fudge. The downside was obvious, even as I dreaded acknowledging the possibility. Because if anything happened to Fudge, not only would I lose my best friend in this world, but my Build would stagnate, forever unable to Advance further. It was a terrifying prospect, in more ways than one. I called up the description of the Skill Augmentation.
Taming [Fudge] (Minor) The effects of Taming [Fudge] will be marginally more effective.
Yeah, that checks out. It wasn¡¯t much help in identifying what happened, which was to be expected. I pushed my attention away from the System and finally addressed Tina who had been asking me a litany of questions regarding my wellbeing. ¡°I am fine, mom,¡± I said, though I didn¡¯t turn to face her. My attention was on Fudge, who had curled into a donut-shaped mound of dog and was sleeping. Tina pulled me into a hug, which I returned, but I still felt so¡­ separate from everything. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Dissociation. The word came to mind. ¡°You had me worried, you-¡± I stopped listening to her at that point, even as I remained vaguely conscious of the feeling of her arms wrapped around me. I was both there and nowhere at the same time, my place in the world felt uncertain. Was it my place in the world, or- Fudge! It was growing hard to keep my thoughts organized, and I drew on that barrier, defining it as an obstacle to justify my Skill. Steel chains wrought from Perseverance tethered my mind to the inside of my skull. All distractions were pushed to the wayside of my awareness. I called upon the System and asked of Fudge. A screen opened up instantly. There was a flutter to my mana, which I was only just realizing was teetering close to being dangerously low. There was no delay, no sense of a request being made along the Bond. One moment, nothing, the next:
[Fudge] Level 10/10 Advancement Bonuses
  • Tier 1: Skill has been fundamentally altered.
Unlock Condition: Aid in the fundamental alteration of a Tamer Bond. Skill Augmentations (1/1) This Skill is only capable of supporting a single type of Skill Augmentation. The choice has been made automatically.
  • [Fudge] (Minor)
All Skills have gained sufficient recognized proficiency for Advancement. Commence Advancement? Advancement Commencing
As I read the words, my vision started to blur. It reminded me of when I started my own Advancement, except without the pain, just a sense that I was- Darkness. *** Awareness returned to me, yet still, all was darkness. The same spike of terror I felt the last time this occurred tried to rear its head, so I smacked it down. This was not The Nothing. Except¡­ It¡¯s not my Core Space either, mine has- Even as I had the thought, there was a crack in the darkness from which my Skill Tree erupted in all its glory. The crystalline lifeform pulsed to the tune of my mana as non-existent light refracted through the delicate leaves. Perseverance. Recovery. Even Taming [Dog], well, Taming [Fudge], now. They were all there, and they felt closer to me than ever. There was something beneath the tree, a curled up figure, one I would recognise anywhere. Fudge! He reacted to my wordless cry, stirring in a flurry of excitement. His eyes locked onto me, for the arrival of my Skill Tree bestowed upon me the spectral form I occupied in this space. I took a knee as Fudge quickly closed the distance and he tumbled into me with a flurry of affection. There was no foul odor to his breath, and his fur felt wispy despite its fullness. Right, he¡¯s not really here either, is he. I clambered to my feet and looked around, taking comfort from the presence of my Skills while I kept one hand on Fudge who stood at my side. Wait, whose Core Space are we in? I- Taming [Fudge] shone, the leaves catching my eyes as they thrummed with power. Like tea dregs in the bottom of a fortune teller¡¯s cup, I found myself gaining insights and understanding. It¡¯s both¡­ and neither. The ephemeral distance between us didn¡¯t matter, not anymore. My Core Space, Fudge¡¯s Core Space - it was immaterial. It was a comforting thought, but also a terrifying one. I looked around for the representation of Fudge¡¯s Skills. Next to me, Fudge harrumphed in the way that dogs often do. The answer hit me immediately. Fudge¡¯s Skill had been called Dog. It was Fudge now, but still. It also explained why animals who Advanced changed physically. The ¡®spiritual¡¯ representations of their Skills were mirrored on their physical forms. I looked down at the adorable, dark gray bundle of love that was Fudge and committed the sight of him to memory. ¡°There¡¯s a good chance you¡¯ll be going through some changes soon, bud,¡± I said. ¡°No matter what, though, we¡¯ll always be pals. I promise.¡± If I was going to shoot for the impossible task of leaping between worlds, then what was the harm in trying to take Fudge with me, as well? An impossible task could hardly get more impossible. Fudge just leaned into my touch, seemingly unbothered by my words as his tongue lolled happily out the side of his mouth. He remained a bastion of unwavering faith in me. It was the kind of thing that inspired a man to want to live up to expectations. System! I am ready to help Fudge Advance.
Advancement successful. Please choose two additional Skills to finalize Advancement. Threshold proficiency must have been demonstrated for a Skill to be an eligible choice.
The System window popped into existence. You know what we want. I recalled the hours of practice Fudge and I put towards ridiculous games that touched upon quantum theories. I thought of those theories, the pseudo science behind them, the Advancement of the Tamer Bond - everything. I rolled it into a cognitive ball and threw it at the System with everything I had. I held a breath I didn¡¯t need to take.
¡­ ¡­ ¡­ No records of chosen Skill.
¡­ ¡­ ¡­ Skill is theoretically possible.
My eyes went wide. I¡¯d seen those words before. Chapter 52 ¡°Sometimes it is best to say little and infer much.¡± ~Unknown ¡®Skill is theoretically possible.¡¯ They were words seized through the fugue of my infancy and carved into the bedrock of my psyche. They sat alongside the rest of the System messages from the night I selected my Core Skill all those years ago. From what I¡¯d been able to infer, there were two primary circumstances that could prompt that particular message. The first was, admittedly, not quite as exciting as the second though still equally important. Skill specializations seemed to be limited only by one¡¯s imagination and dedication. My exhausted proddings at the Weapons Skill left me with Weapons [Punch, Right-Handed, Wet Weather] as a Skill option. There were no records of something so niche in the System before that point, but evidently there was enough to go by that categorisation was a simple enough matter. Unlike the Unnamed Skill. I had lost plenty of sleep over that thing; that daunting, looming specter of possibility that I didn¡¯t gamble on. I didn¡¯t regret the choice I made that night, but the uncertainty periodically itched at a spot impossible to reach, adding its insidious whispers to moments of quiet doubt. It was the System¡¯s answer to my pleas, to the desperate desire to return back to my first life. It also warned me the Skill would be beyond my understanding. I believed it. Even now, years later, and with an understanding of Skills and mana that dwarfed my comprehension at the time; even with the benefits of Perseverance and my other Skills bolstering my ability to tackle problems; even with the support from parents I now knew were genuinely kind hearted and supportive human beings¡­ Even with all that, I still cannot begin to fathom how such a Skill might function¡­ Nothing beyond shot-in-the-dark theories, at least.
¡­ ¡­ ¡­ You have demonstrated the minimum threshold proficiency for an Unnamed Skill.
I froze. Before my logical mind could catch up, a swell of overwhelming emotion threatened oblivion. Spearheading the assault was a pair of questions; had it really been so simple? Would I be able to go- Home. Such a complicated word, and one I wasn¡¯t ready to confront. Fortunately, I didn¡¯t have to. Perseverance shone, it¡¯s light consuming the entirety of my Skill Tree, for a piece of it dwelled in every limb, branch and leaf. Bathed in its glow, I found myself. I felt a pressure on my chest. Fudge had circled around to press his head into it, his silent comfort further bolstering the effect. I needed to breathe, even though my current body had no lungs. I breathed. I could only hope my physical form mirrored the action. Dying of ¡®the feels¡¯ would be an underwhelming way to go, I thought dryly. Bad humor was by no means the most original coping mechanism, but I wasn¡¯t exactly trying to win any style points. I reached down and ran my hand through Fudge¡¯s fur, the wispy strands further grounding me in the moment. This isn¡¯t the Skill. It couldn¡¯t have been. What Fudge and I were doing, what we¡¯d been working on, the intent I thrust at the System - none of it was the same as it had been that first night. A possible component, sure, maybe; I had not forgotten that the Skill I was after had prerequisites. Dog was surely not one of them. Again, I read the words waiting patiently for my acknowledgement. The System still said ¡®you¡¯, even though this was Fudge¡¯s Advancement. Evidently, I wasn¡¯t getting filtered System messages; I was getting the messages that would be directed at Fudge, had he the capacity to understand them. My role was simply to engage with them on his behalf. I spared another glance at Fudge who had stepped back to my side when he felt me start to relax. His tail wagged a steady rhythm. He just seems content to have me here. The thought prompted a smile. I was making choices that would change the entire trajectory of that dog¡¯s life, and he was cool as a cucumber. Another deep breath. Right. Focus. Do right by Fudge, then wallow later, if you must. We¡¯d crossed the first hurdle. The hodgepodge of quantum theories I¡¯d half-remembered, when exercised and practiced with possible mana applications in mind, had been enough to cross the invisible threshold necessary to quantify a Skill. Was it possible that the bar was a little lower since Fudge and I were entering uncharted waters? Perhaps. I didn¡¯t need to understand the underlying mechanisms of the System to take advantage of them when they seemed to work in our favor. I accepted the Skill for Fudge.
You have chosen an Unnamed Skill as one of your Advancement Skills. Would you like to name the Skill?
Now, the sensible thing to do in that moment would have been to carefully model a name for the Skill based off of the conventions I¡¯d seen for other Skills, which largely seemed to amount to a single verb or noun followed by specialization qualifiers. Intent is important. The now-familiar mantra came to mind. Would assigning such a restrictive name to the Skill limit its scope? Conversely, if I kept the Skill¡¯s name too broad, would the lack of oomph provided by specialization be too detrimental? Stolen story; please report. Then there¡¯s the matter of how regularly Fudge and I may need to show people our Skills. The magical orb from Hwan¡¯s office sprung to mind. Soon, it would be Marco¡¯s turn to have his hand pressed upon it so that his Core Skill might be revealed¡­ Not important. Not now. Stray thoughts and concerns on behalf of an infant had their place, but ¡®while helping your dog magically Advance¡¯ was not one of them. I also wasn¡¯t sure how much time I had. Presumably, I was unconscious while I aided Fudge. Tina hadn¡¯t mentioned that would happen, which I doubted was intentional, not after what happened during my first Advancement. Was there a way to wake me up early? Would it disrupt and potentially jeopardize the process? Don¡¯t suppose you want to weigh in here, System? My inner-voice was dripping with sarcasm. Naturally, there was no response. A decision needed to be made. It was the tree that decided it for me. I could see it beyond the screen - see what it represented. As I continued to Advance, my Skill tree would continue to grow, as Skills supported Skills supported me. Us, now, I suppose. Whatever Fudge and I had done, I had a feeling that we¡¯d tied our Advancement together more than the average Tamer. It was also possible we weren¡¯t the only pair to ever do so, even if we achieved the result with a presumably unique method. More questions for later. Unlike when I chose a specialized variant of Taming to take advantage of my circumstances, I reasoned that doing so for Fudge¡¯s Skill might seal off a pathway necessary to achieving my goals. We could always pick supplementary Skills to focus Fudge¡¯s abilities later. ¡°That means we go big, Fudge.¡± So many idioms from the life I once lived lay collecting dust in the recesses of my memory. It was nice to brush one off every now and then. ¡®Go big or go home¡¯¡­ or, maybe, just maybe, both.
You have chosen Quantum Manipulation as one of your Advancement Skills. Please choose one additional Skill to finalize Advancement. Threshold proficiency must have been demonstrated for a Skill to be an eligible choice.
Was the name generous? Absolutely, but that was largely by design. Fudge and I had been experimenting with barely-practical examples of quantum entanglement and quantum superposition; I could have made them the focus of the Skill, but I also knew there was more to it than that. I looked down at Fudge, though there was no indication that the Skill selection was having any impact on his spiritual representation like it had with my Skill Tree. It must work differently for animals, I concluded. As to how or why¡­ I had no idea. Again, another thing to add to the perpetually lengthening list of topics I wanted to investigate one day. As far as Fudge¡¯s second Skill, I had a few choices in mind. That was before the changes to my Taming Skill, though. Now that my Skill and Advancement was dependent on Fudge, his survival became even more of a priority. Quantum Manipulation would probably help, especially if we could figure out a way to apply superposition defensively. Even so, it was always wise to have a backup plan.
You have demonstrated the minimum threshold proficiency for Durability.
Roughhousing with Vigil and the other dogs had been more than enough for Fudge to qualify for the Skill. He¡¯d tripped, tumbled and been tossed but always came back for more with the misguided invincibility of youth. ¡®Youth,¡¯ he says; fuck, I¡¯m old. It was comparisons like that which helped keep me grounded in my sense of self beyond physical form. I was an old soul in ways that went beyond the metaphorical.
You have chosen Durability as one of your Advancement Skills.
As it had during my first time experiencing an Advancement, the System screen flickered out. The ambient mana filling Fudge¡¯s¡­ my¡­ our Core space whipped up, sending the leaves of my Skill tree fluttering. A spike of raw, primal fear stabbed into my mind. It wasn¡¯t mine. It belonged to Fudge, and I heard him whine at my side. The whines turned to yelps and he collapsed to the ground, his limbs spasming as he tried to curl into a ball. The sound raked at me and made my heart feel like it had been shoved into a blender. Through our Bond, I got a sense of what was happening; his mana pathways were developing, and I knew from experience the ordeal was hell made manifest. At that moment, I didn¡¯t care to think why it might have happened after Skill selection as opposed to before it. I took a knee and pulled Fudge into my arms, patting him and whispering reassurances. Let me share the burden! I silently screamed at my Skills, urging whatever mana I had left to the task. Lionel had cautioned me that sharing the effects of a Skill with another was difficult, but I refused to believe that would apply to Fudge and I. Not then. Not when he needed me. Perseverance erupted into a corona of radiance that fell over us. I felt my mana reserves dipping but pulled on them anyway as I urged the ambient mana in the air with Recovery. The mana there moved, almost like a wind. I forced that imagery onto my Skill. Let it pull in whatever is needed from wherever was necessary. I felt my Skill thrum to life but didn¡¯t have the cognitive capacity to interpret what I was doing beyond that desperate plea. ¡°It¡¯s okay, buddy, it¡¯ll all be okay.¡± I just wished he could understand - could KNOW that his pain was only temporary. That everything would be okay. That I hadn¡¯t let him down. The leaves of Taming [Fudge] lended their strength to the endeavor, shining just as brightly as Perseverance, if not more so. Like the shattering of glass, some unknown barrier ceased to be. Pain. It intruded upon my psyche. All was fire. It was not enough to force me down. ¡°Not this time,¡± I growled through gritted teeth. More. I continued pulling Fudge¡¯s agony into myself, reaching with spectral limbs untested into magma and agony and all that had been forced upon a creature who deserved none of it. More. More! MORE! My vision went white¡­ then dark¡­ and finally black as the last of my mana tapered off. With a final, desperate force of will, I tried to take the pain away with me. I had no way of knowing if I succeeded. Chapter 53 ¡°It is with some disappointment that I must now announce the results of your recent examination. Let me be clear; this is not a misdirect. There will be no sudden upturning of my lips or clever turn of phrase in which I reveal that you all, in fact, did a marvelous job. Evidently, I overestimated the capacity for comprehension possessed by my students. It shall not happen again.¡± ~Unknown Fluttering eyes accompanied the sluggish return of my awareness; like a drunk noisily stumbling into their neighbor¡¯s house at 3:00am, rousing remained a clumsy prospect. Yet in that disarray existed a moment of pure detachment, a glimpse at enlightenment. Disconnection. In the moments before the conscious ¡®self¡¯ reasserts control, identity is irrelevant. There are no problems. No worries. No concerns or plights. There is only existence, pure and unburdened. In that moment, a person can simply be. That¡¯s usually when reality rends that illusion of peace to ribbons. Fudge! I shot upright. A quick burst of mana from Perseverance banished the lingering wisps of exhaustion from my mind. After months of routine, it was an almost reflexive action. It was dark outside, and I couldn¡¯t be sure if it was early or late. I felt the familiar give of my thin mattress. I was in bed. I spotted the vague form of Tulos slumped against the wall. He must have dozed off while watching over me. I heard him breathing. Soft, relaxed breaths. Tulos was not a snorer, so the rumblings of size were absent from his resting form. Between Marco and now this, the poor guy probably barely gets a chance to properly rest. I considered waking him up to ask about Fudge, who was notably not in the room, but decided against it. Instead, I urged my partially-recovered mana into Taming [Fudge]. A dull ache made itself known, a familiar pain behind my eye as I urged my mana into motion. Whatever I did with Fudge tapped me out and that carried consequences. I¡¯m going to have to take it easy for a few days¡­ Like a muscle, mana pathways and reserves could be strained and pushed beyond their limits, but only to a point. Injury was a real possibility, and from what I had been told it was an experience best avoided. I knew all of that academically, but I still pushed myself for the sake of Fudge. In the moment, thought wasn¡¯t a factor; it wasn¡¯t a choice in which I weighed cost-benefit. My dog was hurting so I did what I had to do. I mentally probed at the Tamer Bond. There was a different feel to it that I hadn¡¯t had the time to fully appreciate while managing Fudge¡¯s Advancement. Before, it felt like a tether, or a tunnel. The connection was there, but there was a metaphysical distance involved, a pathway to travel with thought and mana. Now, it was more like a doorway, a simple passage to another room in the greater whole. A single step, a flip of a switch, and we would be connected. Like most doorways, it housed a door, of sorts. By leaving it slightly ajar, I intuited through the Skill that Fudge and I would maintain a gentle, passive awareness of each other. It would be much like the ambient feelings we used to subconsciously send each other through the old Tamer Bond, just¡­ better. There wasn¡¯t really a more appropriate way to describe it. Fudge had Advanced. The Taming Skill had Advanced and been ¡®fundamentally altered;¡¯ the qualitative improvement was immediately apparent. It finally gave me some context - a point of comparison - for the benefits of a specialized Skill. Having both Taming [Dog] and Recovery at the same Tier had touched upon the discrepancy; working with Fudge had always felt easier and less mana intensive than practicing with Recovery, but using that as a measuring stick felt like comparing apples and oranges. New insights into Skills were always welcome. Even as I processed my observations, there was one thing keeping me from indulging in them. Fudge¡¯s ¡®door¡¯ was closed. He was still there - the door would not exist without him, after all - but it was still concerning. I had no way to check up on Fudge through the Bond. For whatever reason, we¡¯d been temporarily cut off. Could I force the door open? I was tempted to, but after the admittedly risky actions that led to circumstances surrounding Fudge¡¯s Advancement, I let caution win out. First, I needed to find Fudge. Everything else could come after. My legs swung off the bed and I felt the cool wood of the floor on the soles of my feet. Soft moonlight filtering in from the window gave me just enough visibility to navigate comfortably. My eyes were able to adapt quickly, one of the many benefits that accompanied my Advancement and a trend that would apparently continue as I rose through the ranks. I¡¯d left a sweat stain on my bed that soaked through the off-white linens, but thoughts of laundry were not my priority. Moving silently was neither a skill nor Skill - with a capital ¡®S¡¯ - that I possessed. With great care, I endeavored to step softly without looking comical. I¡¯d read books on the subject, and the consensus seemed to be that most people didn¡¯t actually understand how to move silently. So best to just do my best and not overstay my welcome. The longer I was in that room, the more likely it would be that Tulos would wake up. It wouldn¡¯t be the end of the world if he did, I¡¯d just feel bad. Fortunately, the post-baby-care exhaustion was in my favor. Tulos remained deep in his slumber, even as I no doubt moved anything but silently. I stalked through the house as I looked for Fudge. There was no sign of him. The faint scent of baby vomit lingered in the air; there must¡¯ve been an earlier incident. The only place I hadn¡¯t looked was my parent¡¯s room. That¡¯s where Marco was, though. Waking him would be bad, but Tina is in there too. It¡¯s amazing she hasn¡¯t heard me already¡­ Even so, I had to check. Gingerly, I pushed the door open and winced when the hinges whined ever so softly. The way the house was oriented, the main bedroom usually got more moonlight than mine did when the nights were flush with it. It made seeing Tina sitting in her nursing chair a simple matter. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Marco was bundled up in her arms. She wore a single, raised eyebrow as she watched the doorway. I saw her. She saw me. Embarrassment flooded my cheeks. I honestly didn¡¯t know what else I was expecting. I went to say something but a wide-eyed glare shut me up. Right. Marco. ¡°So-rry.¡± I overtly mouthed the word, making sure to stay as quiet as possible. Tina smiled softly, but her stare remained locked on me. With the slightest nod of her head, she looked me up and down. She raised her eyebrow again. A question. I nodded. I was fine. Tina released a slow, controlled exhale. Relief. I shrugged my shoulders and mimed petting a dog. Where is Fudge? Tina frowned. Hesitation, but it was quickly pushed aside. ¡°Kenn-el.¡± She mouthed the word back at me. It looked like she wanted to say more, but circumstances dictated otherwise. I nodded my understanding and oh-so-carefully closed the door behind me as I left. ¡°Love you, mom,¡± I mouthed on my way out. I slipped out of the house, kept vigilant for large spiders as I made my way through the garden, and took off at a jog. In my haste, I¡¯d not bothered to put on shoes. The damp cold of the earth beneath my feet and feeling of grass betwixt my toes made every footfall notably chilled. With a quick pulse of Perseverance, I easily vaulted over the low stone wall that bordered the kennel. It wasn¡¯t the most efficient use of mana, but I was in a hurry. Already, I heard some of the dogs stirring in response to my presence. There was a big wooden shelter, closer to a shed than a doghouse, that Tina used to isolate a dog from the others when necessary. Vigil was resting in front of it and had already raised his head to look in my direction, all but confirming that Fudge was inside. Don¡¯t worry buddy, I¡¯m coming. I sent the thought towards the Tamer Bond, but it was barred from crossing over. Even so, I wanted to think that somehow Fudge would still know that I had his back. I quickly crossed the distance and- Vigil growled at me. The sound, a low, warning rumble was enough to stop me in my tracks. Vigil had never shown any kind of aggression towards me before. I was momentarily stunned into inaction as I gathered my wits. ¡°Vigil, what¡¯s the matter, boy?¡± Even as the question left my mouth I felt foolish for the effort. Under normal circumstances I usually found the ¡®Lassie¡¯ routine charming. I don¡¯t have time for that right now. Vigil didn¡¯t respond, because of course he didn¡¯t. ¡°Vigil, stand aside, I am going to see Fudge.¡± I took another step forward and the massive, steel-furred dog growled again. I flared Perseverance and Taming both, urging them to impress my will into words that Vigil might understand. ¡°Vigil. DOWN.¡± My prepubescent voice cracked slightly as I raised it. I may not have been Vigil¡¯s Tamer, but I was one in my own right. More than that, I was the son of his Tamer, and she had directed me here. ¡°I am going to see Fudge.¡± In hindsight, squaring off against a dog that could quite comfortably - and quite literally - bite my head off was probably not a wise life decision. I played the odds, but even so, the potential for disaster didn¡¯t quite hit me until the words were already out of my mouth. My mouth went dry, but I did not back down. I couldn¡¯t. I drew deep from Perseverance and managed to avoid a nervous gulp, even as it exacerbated the mana-pains. Vigil just stared. The metallic glint to his eyes was more menacing than I remembered. It felt like he was staring through me, weighing me. With slow, deliberate movements Vigil raised to his feet, demonstrating that he still towered over me. I remembered Tina¡¯s advice. My commands needed to be final. ¡°Vigil. DOWN.¡± I pointed to one side and straightened my back. Silence. I heard the sounds of other dogs moving behind me, perhaps gathering to see what the commotion was. I paid them no mind. I only had eyes for Vigil. After a few, tense moments, he huffed. With two lumbering steps he moved out of the way and sat back down with a grumble. Oh thank fuck. ¡°Good boy.¡± I moved into the shed and finally laid eyes on Fudge. ¡°Fudge¡­¡± I could see why he¡¯d been moved to the shed. Perhaps appropriately, he was shedding. All of his dark, charcoal fur lay discarded around him, though a few tufts still clung to his body. If not for the steady rise and fall of his bare chest, I would have feared the worst. There was no more whimpering. No whining. Just rest and¡­ whatever was going on. A dog without its fur was a most unusual sight - like the canine equivalent of a sphynx cat. I took a concerned step forward, not sure how - or if - I could help. I almost didn¡¯t notice my wax tablet. It was on the floor and inscribed with a message. When I held it out into the moonlight, and with a gentle stream of Perseverance mana directed at my eyes, I was able to make out the words through the strain.
Will, What is happening to Fudge is normal. When animals Advance for the first time they go through their most dramatic changes. Since Fudge started losing his fur, I will assume that you ended up taking a Durability-adjacent Skill, like we discussed. What happened to you is less normal, but I did not want to worry your father until you and I had a chance to talk. We WILL be talking about this. For now though, you may stay with Fudge. I know it is important for you that you do. I went through the same thing. We will bring you food and water and even some blankets, if you want. Fudge will probably be asleep for a few days. You do whatever you need to in order to take care of him. Your father and I can handle Marco, but we appreciate all the help you¡¯ve been able to give us. Love, Mom
I let out a massive sigh of relief and went to sit with my back against the wall. Fudge is going to be okay. At that moment, it was all that mattered. Chapter 54 ¡°The regulation of Skills capable of direct, social manipulation is a necessary stripping of liberties, I think. For the inverse would be to empower others to, in turn, strip the liberties of different others. Not all nations feel the same, of course, but there is a reason most traveling musicians are never particularly high Tier; not publicly, at least. For there is little that can sway the minds of the masses more than a Skill-empowered tune. It is a terrifying thought, really.¡± ~Unknown The wisdom within Tina¡¯s letter proved accurate. Over the coming days, Fudge¡¯s fur regrew in its entirety. There was a magical uniformity to it, unlike the patchy, irregular growth one might witness under more natural circumstances. Had I the inclination and patience to do so, I could have watched the process in real time. As promised, one of my parents regularly stopped by to check in on Fudge and I. It was usually Tina since she had an easier time with the dogs, but the fact that Tulos came at all was a welcome surprise. ¡°It is one thing to hear of my son¡¯s well-being. It is another to see it for myself,¡± was what he said on the matter. I was fond of the sentiment, largely because it was one I could empathize with. While Fudge was recovering, Tina was true to her word; she didn¡¯t pester me regarding the specifics of the Advancement. Instead, she focused on making sure I was well cared for and even fielded a few of the questions I had during her visits. Being alone with Fudge all those days left me with ample time to spend on contemplation, after all. ¡°Is he going to get bigger like Vigil did?¡± I was in the middle of stretching out my legs when I asked the question. Despite the bounty of woolen blankets I¡¯d been bestowed - their abundance, a delightful perk of living in a community populated by several shepherds - there was a limit to how much we could mitigate the discomfort of sleeping in a shed. Fortunately, youth and mana spared me from any lingering aches or pains; the old me would have been walking funny for a month, at best. ¡°It is possible.¡± Tina¡¯s reply lacked commitment. ¡°Vigil grew to his expanded size over a few months. It is usually only the more¡­ artificial changes that happen initially. Fur, eyes, scales, feathers, teeth, nails, claws, talons- you get the idea.¡± As Tina listed each trait, she counted them off with her fingers. ¡°Thanks, mom. Having you here to talk me through things¡­ it helps.¡± Even with Tina¡¯s reassurances, I wouldn¡¯t be completely at ease until Fudge opened his eyes and started wagging his tail; there was a reason Tulos¡¯ words resonated with me. *** Initially, it was difficult to determine the differences in Fudge¡¯s new coat. Charcoal-gray. Densely packed. Vaguely shaggy. That all changed on the third day. The regrowth was complete. Fudge was largely looking like himself again. Any lingering remnants of his old coat had already been collected and disposed of. It simply appeared as if Fudge was taking a peaceful rest. Healthy breaths accompanied the rise and fall of his chest. There were no whines. No whimpers. All was well. As she had every day, Tina was making one of several wellness checks. In one arm she carried a basket containing my lunch, in the other was a canteen of fresh water. I was most thankful for the latter, for the lingering cloud cover of the last several days had finally dispersed. As the door opened, Tina stood in silhouette as sunlight rushed in behind her and flooded the shed. I shielded my eyes with a hand and turned to face Tina, only to hear her gasp. As my vision adjusted, I saw her expression painted with surprise. She wasn¡¯t looking at me. She was looking at Fudge. Had I given myself time to properly process what I saw, I might have realized Tina¡¯s surprise was not laced with concern, but wonder. Dread gripped me. I snapped my neck around fearing some sudden complication in Fudge¡¯s condition. Instead, I saw colour. All of it. Fudge¡¯s fur had gained prismatic qualities. The charcoal undertone was consistently apparent, but as the light played through Fudge¡¯s fur every color on the spectrum made a fleeting appearance. Opalescent. That was the word. He is every color, but also completely monotone. Possibility. Potential. Paradox. A subtle nod to the conceptual depths of Fudge¡¯s newest Skill. Subtle in connection, at least, the thought crawled across my stunned mind. Fudge¡¯s actual appearance was definitively overt. If not for Vigil¡¯s equally eye-catching visage, the implications might have been cause for immediate concern. As it was, I held the small hope that a Tamer¡¯s bonded animals were all equally strange enough to behold that Fudge would be found mundane by virtue of his oddity. ¡°Wow¡­¡± Tina breathed as she took in the sight. ¡°Yeah¡­ wow¡­¡± We both stood transfixed for a long moment. *** Periodically prodding at Taming [Fudge] yielded little change. The door remained steadfast until the end, making my efforts largely inconsequential. Much like Tulos had done for me, I sat with my back against the wall while I waited. It was a wooden wall for a wooden shed, and I had begun wondering how easily dogs could distinguish different types of wood by smell. I¡¯d often heard scents described as ¡®woodsy¡¯, but that was usually the end of the nuance. Sure, ¡®scents of oak¡¯ were often referenced when people spoke of whiskey, but I maintained a healthy skepticism on the topic of alcohol connoisseurs. Frankly, I was convinced that most of them were full of shit. That all is to say, I had allowed my mind to wander. When Fudge''s leg twitched, there was no missing or mistaking it. I sat up straighter as all errant thoughts were immediately banished. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Fudge. You okay, boy?¡± A lump of hope rose in my chest. A shake. A shudder. A ripple of color through Fudge¡¯s fur. He opened his eyes. Before I could even think to celebrate, the Tamer Bond ceased being blocked so abruptly that it was borderline explosive. A surge of emotion poured into me from Fudge with more clarity than I had ever felt before. Concern. Worry. Despite having recently Advanced, he scrambled to his feet with only marginally more elegance than usual and frantically craned his neck around until his eyes fell on me. The Bond surged again. Relief. Excitement. Love. It was overwhelming, but I didn¡¯t care. I sent my own feelings of concern back at Fudge, and he paused, going suddenly stock still. I wondered if he was also- EXCITEMENT! HAPPINESS! Fudge galloped towards me, a feat which resulted in two awkward, prancing steps in the confined space before he was showering me with affection and demanding attention. It was as if the issue of his Advancement simply¡­ wasn¡¯t an issue. He was just happy to see me again. ¡°I missed you too, boy,¡± I said, my words riding the tail of a mirthful giggle. A hammering thump every other second let me know Fudge was wagging his own tail, and I heard the rest of the dogs start to stir outside. They¡¯d been oddly unobstructive until that point, likely due to something Tina and Vigil had been doing. The smell of dog breath didn¡¯t at all bother me as I gave Fudge a big hug. The waves of happiness rolling off of him through the Tamer Bond were contagious. My own joy got reflected back to Fudge and the cycle continued, like a sort of emotional resonance. At the time, I was so relieved to see Fudge back on his feet that I didn¡¯t spare a thought to properly consider the implications. I also noticed Fudge¡¯s eyes. The prismatic quality of his fur was mirrored in each iris and the whites of his eyes. Objectively, I realized their new, piercing qualities might have been unsettling to some. All I saw was the same pair of dopey, puppy eyes that could convey so much even without the Tamer Bond. They just change color now, is all. *** Having been alerted to the commotion of the dogs, Tina was quick to come and investigate. Marco was nowhere to be seen, so presumably Tulos had been assigned to watch the crib. Fudge was busy getting sized up by Vigil, who was circling and occasionally sniffing at his now-prismatic offspring. When not in direct sunlight, the effect was subdued, but still present if one knew what to look for. ¡°See, I told you he would be fine,¡± Tina said as she effortlessly hopped into the kennel, scattering up a small spray of dirt in the process. Her recovery over the last few months had been smooth; the benefits of a higher-tiered body. It raised a few questions regarding the safety of childbirth for the baby, but I wasn¡¯t ready to ask them yet. By all accounts, the information would not be relevant to me for a long time - if ever. ¡°And I never doubted you,¡± I replied quickly. I had been unable to wipe the smile off of my face since Fudge woke up. PRIDE. From behind me, I heard Fudge give a satisfied harumph as he clearly passed some kind of test under his sire¡¯s scrutiny. It was distracting enough that I reached towards Taming [Fudge] and tried to marginally close the- Huh¡­ Before his awakening, the connection between Fudge and I had contained a metaphorical ¡®door¡¯ that could not be opened. There was no longer a door. It was as if Fudge waking up had blown the door off its hinges; or Fudge being unconscious was the door; or¡­ or¡­ Either way, this could be a problem. Fudge looked my way and tilted his head. Concern? There was a questioning lilt to the emotion, though how that was even possible I could not possibly articulate or explain. It simply was. ¡°... listening, Will?¡± The backend of Tina¡¯s question finally caught my attention, snapping me out of my introspection. ¡°I was not. Sorry.¡± I had the good sense to bow my head slightly and look embarrassed when I apologized. A frown briefly touched Tina¡¯s lips. She was the parent of a newborn and both were on minimal sleep; I had to imagine she had already been making an effort to not be ambiently grumpy even before being accidentally ignored. ¡°I can only assume you- no, let me try that again.¡± She took a deep breath and gently drummed her finger tips against the sides of her thighs. ¡°Please tell me what is on your mind, my Will.¡± Her tone had noticeably softened. Tina kept her mental state under careful observation; a side effect of managing the spillover of more advanced Taming techniques. She was on edge, but she was also cognizant as to why and took steps to regulate. I found it admirable. ¡°Do you have time? It will involve that talk you said we need to have.¡± Tina pursed her lips in consideration and turned to look back at the house. ¡°Yyyyyyes. Yes.¡± Her uncertain hum turned into a more definitive answer. ¡°Just let me go tell your father and then the four of us can go for a walk.¡± ¡°Wait, dad and Marco are going to come?¡± Tina snorted to suppress a giggle. ¡°No. Vigil. Fudge. You. Me.¡± She pointed at each invited dog and person in turn. In my defense, her phrasing had been vague and throughout that whole exchange I had to draw on Perseverance to avoid getting too distracted by Fudge¡¯s - for lack of a better phrase - ¡®loud emotions¡¯ coming through the Tamer Bond. Without waiting for my reply, Tina pivoted on her heel and took off towards the house at a light jog. I turned back to Vigil, Fudge, and a few of the other dogs who had wandered over. ¡°We have a few minutes. You folks know how to play cards?¡± Their response to my joke was a collection of blank stares and slowly wagging tails. Yeah, that checks out. Chapter 55 ¡°See, now that is the question, is it not? What makes the ambient mana in certain places so dense? There are perhaps some with the personal strength necessary to find out, but by and large they simply choose not to. Or if they do know, they keep it to themselves. Either way, we are left wallowing in ignorance.¡± ~Unknown Fudge erupted into motion when I gave him the freedom to roam, practically diving into a section of longer grass and leaving a rippling wave of green in his wake. Vigil followed, albeit with a more dignified gait. ¡°Fudge is excited,¡± I told Tina in a textbook example of stating the obvious. We were walking at a leisurely pace, side-by-side. Despite the content of her note to me, I sensed hesitation as we danced around the topic of Fudge¡¯s Advancement. On my part, it was because I still lacked confidence in the explanation I¡¯d been able to concoct. ¡°Vigil is, too,¡± Tina replied with a soft smile. ¡°He is a bit of a softie when it comes to puppies and children, no?¡± Mid-stride, she stretched her arms up over her head and gave a satisfied little grunt, but otherwise tapered back into companionable silence. A gentle breeze rolled through the fields and I briefly closed my eyes as it passed over my face and rustled my hair enough to tickle the back of my neck. This is all very lovely, but we won¡¯t get anywhere at this rate. It was a conflicting situation. In the short term, I would appreciate less scrutiny, but if we didn¡¯t talk about it then the topic of Fudge¡¯s Advancement would become yet another thing left dangling overhead. There was only so much room on my metaphorical ceiling. Fuck it. ¡°Mom, did you still want to talk?¡± Puzzling though Tina¡¯s reluctance may have been, I lacked the patience to decipher it. Every errant burst of curiosity or spontaneous surge of happiness Fudge experienced while exploring and playing with Vigil was transmitted through the Tamer Bond. It felt like trying to have a conversation while someone held a pounding speaker up to your ear and shoved ice cubes down the back of your shirt. That is to say, I was distracted. Perseverance helped, to a point, but it was running in direct opposition to Taming [Fudge] which largely dampened the efficiency of the Skill. ¡°I do, my Will,¡± Tina replied sweetly. ¡°I am- I just-¡± She looked conflicted and took a moment to consider her words. ¡°Did you know that sometimes adults get scared?¡± ¡°... I do know that.¡± It was a question born from the biggest lie I¡¯d ever told someone else. If my parents knew the truth about my origins, there¡¯d be no need to ask. I had firsthand experience in experiencing fear as an adult. In response to my answer, Tina smiled again, a sad smile that spoke of reluctant acceptance. ¡°I thought you might. You are so clever.¡± Where is she going with this¡­ I tilted my head to one side, an act that made me veer slightly to the right since we were still in motion. ¡°I am your mother, Will. I am supposed to guide you, teach you, take care of you.¡± She stopped walking and waited for me to face her before continuing. ¡°You have always been so independent, and I am scared I won¡¯t be able to help you with this.¡± She briefly turned away and I watched her raise hand to her face and wipe something away. Then she chuckled. ¡°It is selfish of me to even tell you, I know.¡± At least she¡¯s aware of it, I suppose. Evidently, my relative maturity skewed Tina¡¯s parental sense in a lot of ways. Over the years,I encouraged frank discussions when I could, which culminated in the situation I now found myself in. ¡°I do not think being my mother means you need to have all the answers,¡± I said honestly. ¡°You care enough to want to listen. You love me enough to take the time to help in whatever ways you can. That is enough for me.¡± I stepped forward and gave my mother a child sized hug, wrapping my arms around her lower back. ¡°Thank you for being such a great mom.¡± On one hand, it was a response that somewhat fed into her point. The way I articulated my feelings on the matter went beyond what a child my age should have been capable of. The alternative was to play dumb again, which I wasn¡¯t willing to do. I don¡¯t want to lie about more than I have to. Even with the extenuating circumstances, Tina was better at keeping her composure than most - when she cared to, at least - but everyone had their moments of weakness. I mean, fuck, I just about have one every other night. There would be no judgment on my end. Tina didn¡¯t just hug me back, she hoisted me up and held me in her arms. ¡°Thank you, my Will.¡± It wasn¡¯t a magical fix to the situation. Tina¡¯s feelings wouldn¡¯t suddenly change or disappear, but it was a start. *** We made our way to a small hill - more of a knoll, really - and sat leaning against the slope. Tina listened patiently while I started recounting the events of several days ago. Perhaps patiently isn¡¯t the right word. Rather, she watched with restraint; her eyes steadily widened the more I spoke, which was telling in its own right. To clarify, I didn¡¯t tell her everything. That¡­ yeah, I doubt that would have gone down well. I¡¯d committed to keeping my origins a secret, at least until I was old enough to fend for myself. That my parents attributed my borderline aberrant behavior as a side effect of Perseverance accelerating my maturity continued to be a boon. To be fair to them, it was a more sensible conclusion than the truth. That didn¡¯t mean I could act as if I were completely free from scrutiny, though. Spouting off the half-baked quantum theories I used to leverage Fudge into his Skill and the Advancement of Taming [Dog] - now Taming [Fudge] - wouldn¡¯t have fit the narrative we¡¯d established. Completely obfuscating the matter would have been equally problematic; despite Tina¡¯s concerns, I highly valued her guidance on matters of Taming. The way I saw things, the closer I kept things to the truth, the better positioned she¡¯d be to help me. I just had to toe the line, a feat easier said than done. I started with the what. The baseline facts. I didn¡¯t get the Advancement bonus to Taming that we were expecting; both my Taming Skill and Fudge¡¯s Dog Skill had been fundamentally changed as a result. When I finished speaking, there was a long beat of silence as Tina just stared at me wide-eyed. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Mom¡­ is- is everything okay?¡± Tina¡¯s hands twitched at her sides, like the hand-talking equivalent of a stutter. Finally, she raised them to her face and, starting from the forehead, slowly dragged them down until fingertips rested on her chin. The action was accompanied by a low, exasperated groan. ¡°Will¡­ you¡­¡± She groaned again. My lips formed a thin line. Not the most reassuring start. ¡°Will, you are going to give your mother gray hairs, did you know this?¡± Tina grabbed a small handful of her hair to shake as if to illustrate the point. It was a rhetorical question, but I was nervous and still distracted by Fudge so I responded before I could catch myself. ¡°I thought Vigil did that,¡± I quipped, referencing the transformation I¡¯d witnessed when Tina drew heavily on the metallic dog''s mana and abilities. Instant regret seized me when the look Tina shot me bordered on withering. ¡°Sorry, I-¡± ¡°No. The joke was fine. I just need to think.¡± Tina cut me off and sprang to her feet, no longer content to sit still. She started pacing in a small circuit and didn¡¯t stop, even when she started speaking again. ¡°This thing you and Fudge have done, it is not usually done by one so young, or of such a low Tier. Understand?¡± ¡°Not really,¡± I admitted. So Tina explained it to me. I could tell the revelation had left her flustered; there was plenty of verbal meandering and gesticulation around the point, but it eventually got made. Apart from asking a few clarifying questions, I mostly just nodded along. In short, changing a Skill was not a unique phenomenon. It was just considered difficult. How difficult was it? Enough for it to be a notable accomplishment among even professional circles, and an uncommon one at that. Skill Evolution. It wasn¡¯t the exact wording Tina used, but the concepts of fundamental change, growth, and redefinition contained in the expression made it the most apt translation. If the feat was attempted at all, it was usually by people looking to push through a difficult bottleneck at higher tiers. The most famous examples were martial arts, when a style of combat became so touched by an individual that it transcended the more mundane Weapons Skill. In my case, I merely evolved the Specialization of Taming, but there were records of Skills like Forms of the Flowing Fist and other equally flowery names bestowed upon Skills by their creators. The parallels between that information and my own experience with Fudge¡¯s Quantum Manipulation were not lost on me. ¡°As for the Taming Skill, mastery of the Tamer Bond is an important part of Advancement.¡± Much of Tina¡¯s initial fidgety energy had vented as she gave me the rundown. Now she just sounded tired. ¡°¡®The bond is also important.¡¯¡± I said, mimicking Tina¡¯s own mocking of my mantra from the last time we talked about Skills. ¡°I remember.¡± She smiled at that, but it was a fleeting thing. ¡°I thought you might.¡± ¡°But?¡± ¡°Taming is my Core Skill, and I still have not given much thought to Skill Evolution. Not seriously. Not yet. I did not think it could happen without a Skill being at a much higher level.¡± It was like Tina¡¯s voice couldn¡¯t decide to sound proud of me or disappointed in her. Even though it wasn¡¯t necessarily rational to do so, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit guilty. There is a certain self-deprecation that creeps up on a person when they see people younger than them succeeding. The feeling was one I¡¯d grown intimate with in my first life. My tendency to hop from hobby to hobby like a frog with commitment issues primed me for the bitterness of mediocrity, for the realization that I wasn¡¯t going to amount to much in the grand scheme of things. It¡¯s why I fell in love so hard, I think. In her eyes, none of that mattered. I was me, and that was enough. She was her, and that was enough. Compared to that, the rest of the world was inconsequential¡­ I sniffled as emotions I¡¯d promised were for the night rattled their cages. Recovery and Perseverance pulsed. The memories were good, even though they were hard, but they needed to wait until later. Tina¡¯s words were the window I¡¯d been waiting for. I had to seize the opportunity. ¡°Maybe it is because I did not know it was supposed to be hard that I was able to do it.¡± The concept of not ¡®tainting¡¯ someone else¡¯s journey of cultivation, leveling up in a System - whatever, really - by over-informing them was common enough in fiction that I figured it was my best bet for an alibi. By all accounts, it might have even been accurate; Evolving my Taming Skill wasn¡¯t exactly something I planned. ¡°Pffft,¡± Tina scoffed. ¡°There are some people who used to believe that, actually. We were taught about them in our lessons. We were also taught that such a philosophy resulted in most of the population stalling in their Advancement without proper guidance.¡± She pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°Though, there might be some wisdom in the approach. What did you do to provoke the change?¡± ¡°It is difficult to explain,¡± I said honestly and did my best to appear sheepish. ¡°So it was more of an instinctual thing? A feeling you acted on in the moment?¡± She sounded skeptical. To her credit, I¡¯d been crowing about the importance of intent for years. To suddenly claim I achieved such a feat with a ¡®gut feeling¡¯ would be dubious at best. ¡°No, not that, it is just¡­ difficult to explain. I wanted Fudge and I to be closer. Now we are.¡± Again, a half-truth. Tina frowned but didn¡¯t object to my explanation. ¡°Well please think about it, okay? I want to know as much as possible so I can try to help you.¡± I didn¡¯t miss her addition of the word ¡®try¡¯. ¡°For now, we will start practicing some more advanced Tamer techniques. We need to find out how your new Bond will affect the Beast High in a controlled environment; the last thing we want is for you to accidentally lose control.¡± She offered me a hand to pull me up and I was quick to accept ¡°Thanks, mom. That sounds like a good idea.¡± Given how intrusive Fudge¡¯s emotions now felt ambiently, I suspected I was going to have some issues when we started practicing. Addressing them sooner rather than later would be ideal. ¡°Did you also want to talk about Fudge?¡± There was still a whole other half to the conversation. Tina just laughed in a way that sounded forced. ¡°Not today. I already have enough to think about. Do you think Fudge is going to be a danger to you or the family?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Then I trust you.¡± She whistled and within moments Fudge and Vigil came back into view, having both broken into a run that swiftly ate up the distance. Vigil easily outpaced the younger dog, but not by much. I¡¯d seen how fast Vigil could really move, though. He was holding back. All things considered, delaying that conversation might be for the best¡­ It wasn¡¯t ideal, but I didn¡¯t want to push Tina too hard. As Tina and I made our way back to the house, I reflected on how busy my life had gotten. Taming had Advanced, but it just spawned several additional concerns I now had to address. Recovery was similarly growing close to Advancement, for even though I didn¡¯t have the benefits of a teacher, I had enough of a theoretical foundation that it didn¡¯t lag behind my other Skills. Another year. Tops. There were mana exercises; physical exercises; the drudge of socializing with Bella and avoiding her increasingly sharp senses; and the ever present possibility that any day a Crown representative could come to collect me and set off a chain reaction of conscriptions and whatever other political games I¡¯d suddenly become a pawn in. Before all of that, though, was a more imminent concern. In a couple of months, baby Marco would hit his six-month threshold and receive his Core Skill. It was a terrifying thought. Interlude: Bella and Tulos ¡°What makes for a more effective teacher, I wonder? There is a Teaching Skill, but would it not be better to be taught by someone well versed and highly leveled in the Skill you wish to learn? Of course, ideally, one would be taught by someone with both.¡± ~Unknown Bella Every morning the rooster crowed. The rooster was in charge of the chickens. Bella liked the chickens; they laid eggs and eggs were delicious. Sometimes, Bella did not like the rooster because it was loud and annoying. ¡°Lionneeeellll, be quiet please,¡± Bella grumbled as she pulled her blanket up over her head to hide from the noise. The rooster, Lionel, simply crowed again which was very rude. Bella decided she would complain later, when Aunty Tina came to visit. For some reason, Will¡¯s mommy always chortled when Bella complained about Lionel in front of her. Bella liked it when people were happy and- Will is coming to visit today! When little girls are sleepy, sometimes they don¡¯t always remember their plans for the day. Bella remembered though, even if it wasn¡¯t straight away. The warmth of her blankets tried to tempt her into staying in bed, but excitement was even more special than warmth. With a giggle, Bella threw off her blankets and hopped out of bed. There was a little box next to the window for her to stand on, and she scurried over to it. The box let her reach the latch on her window. Light was already trying to sneak in through the gaps and edges. Sometimes the latch was tricky and got stuck, but that morning Bella was feeling confident. Practice made perfect, and with a triumphant grin she opened up the window on her first attempt. Light bathed her room and the various, unfinished projects scattered throughout. Her most recent obsession was knitting. Knitting was tricky, even trickier than the window latch, even though Bella¡¯s mama tried her best to teach her. A pair of wooden needles lay discarded by a bundle of tangled wool. Bella took in a deep breath as the cool, morning air crossed her face. It tickled the gap in her mouth where one of her baby teeth had fallen out. ¡°GOOD MORNING EVERYONE!¡± Even though the rooster was annoying sometimes, Bella still decided it was nice to say good morning to everyone. Off in the distance, one of her papa¡¯s sheep bleated. Today is going to be a good day! Tulos Parenting a newborn was exhausting. Perhaps naively, Tulos initially thought that, having gone through the experience with Will, that he¡¯d be better equipped to manage Marco. While it was true that many of the more confronting realities of caring for a newborn were no longer a surprise, it didn¡¯t make the physical or emotional toll any easier. Sleep was regularly interrupted; even when it was not Tulos¡¯ ¡®turn¡¯ to check on the baby, disjointed rest left its mark. The bags under his eyes had grown more pronounced over the last few weeks, for unlike his beloved, Tulos had not Advanced enough to forestall the signs of exhaustion. That is why Tulos was so excited to have a day to himself. Tina was taking Marco to visit Lianda and Will was going with her; naturally, Vigil and Fudge would also accompany them. There would be peace and there would be quiet. It was a luxury he had come to long for as many parents did. Not that he¡¯d trade his family for anything in the world, of course; they were worth all of the hardships and more. Still, he could appreciate the value of some alone time. For the first time in weeks, there was almost a bounce to Tulos¡¯ steps as he hurried through his morning chores. As his axe sliced through a section of log like a hot knife through butter, he caught sight of Will jogging around the property. Every morning he does that¡­ Most people caught ¡®the bug¡¯ at some point in their lives, becoming possessed by a drive to Advance; Will had just done so earlier than most. Similarly, most people also eventually settled into an equilibrium, of sorts, when the demands of life - romance, usually - became a higher priority than Advancement. His Core Skill worries me, though¡­ Perseverance had already caused Will to lose out on so much. His childhood was cut short, lost to the demands of the Skill. The whole thing made Tulos feel like¡­ like he was becoming irrelevant. The boy had almost Advanced as much as he had, and after the whole incident with the dog¡¯s Advancement even Tina had been deliberately vague regarding the details. ¡®Tamer business.¡¯ Tulos frowned at the thought. It carried an implication that he wouldn¡¯t be able to understand the difficulties and challenges his son was going through enough to offer any valuable insight. The worst part? It was probably accurate. The giant of a man sighed and gently set his axe down before scooping up the armful of chopped wood he¡¯d been working on. It wasn¡¯t as much as he usually did, but it would be enough. Probably. Today was supposed to be a good day¡­ Bella Aunty Tina¡¯s new baby was so cute! His name was Marco and he made little drool bubbles whenever he wasn¡¯t crying. He cried a lot though. Sometimes the cries were because he was hungry, or sometimes it was because he needed to be burped, and other times it was because he needed to poop. Aunty Tina was usually good at telling the different cries apart, but sometimes Bella chimed in to correct her. She was good at understanding what the baby wanted. Aunty Tina and Bella¡¯s mama always looked impressed when she did so, which made Bella preen like a happy parrot. Will always looked a little uncomfortable, though. Bella didn¡¯t like the way he looked at her sometimes, like he was scared of her. When Will said he was going to go play outside with Fudge, who was now a sparkly amazing rainbow dog, Bella decided to go with him. Bella¡¯s mama gave her permission, but Will just looked worried again. It was the way his lip did the wiggly thing; it was a small, wiggly thing, but to Bella it made his feelings super obvious. Outside, Vigil and Fudge were playing with Jacket. Jacket was a dog Tina trained to help Bella¡¯s papa look after the sheep. Jacket was a good dog, but Bella wasn¡¯t allowed to play with her most days. Working dogs should not be distracted while they are working, or so Bella¡¯s papa often said. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Figuello still let his daughter play with her sometimes, though, if she asked sweetly enough. Bella knew her papa didn¡¯t like saying no to her. When Will whistled, Fudge ran up to sit with him, so Bella decided to sit next to Will on the other side. They were facing the paddock where some sheep were eating the grass; they would need to get haircuts soon. There was a special word for sheep haircuts. Shearing. It was a special word and Bella was proud that she knew it. ¡°Hey Will, do you know what they call sheep haircuts?¡± She would impress him with her knowledge. Will knew lots of things, but there was no way he could know the special word. Bella straightened her shoulders and tried not to look too smug. Fudge¡¯s pretty fur was distracting, so her eyes kept flicking towards it, largely breaking the illusion of suspense. Bella¡¯s mama had been surprised to see that Fudge had changed. Bella had so many questions about Fudge but had been told to wait for answers. Maybe Will will teach me after I tell him about shearing, she thought. He would probably- ¡°Sheep haircuts? You mean shearing? Yeah, it is how farmers collect the wool from their sheep.¡± Will answered without looking away from Fudge. ¡°What about it?¡± Bella shot her best glare in Will¡¯s direction, but he didn¡¯t seem to notice it. She puffed up her cheeks in frustration. ¡°Nothing!¡± Bella snapped and crossed her arms, annoyed that, once again, Will knew everything. It was hard to be friends with Will sometimes. He always seemed more interested in playing with Fudge or talking to the adults than playing with her. He was more fun when they were little-er. ¡­ Lucky for her, Fudge didn¡¯t join Will that day. The sparkly- Sparkly? Right, Will had told her about- Did he? Bella squinted as she tried to remember. Something wasn¡¯t quite right. ¡°I think Fudge is hungry,¡± Will mumbled to himself, which was a silly thing to say. How could he possibly know if Fudge was hungry? He¡¯d sat up to stretch before leaning back down to keep on watching the clouds, which is what they¡¯d come outside to do. ¡°That one looks like a sheep!¡± Bella called out and pointed at the cloud in question. She¡¯d spotted a lot of sheep already and- Will was telling the truth just now, she realized. So he did actually think that Fudge was hungry. Weird. ¡°Yeah, it sure¡­ does¡­¡± Will didn¡¯t sound impressed. If anything, he sounded confused. There was a sudden weariness to his voice, as well, like he was tired. Bella sat up and looked down at her friend. He was glancing around and blinking rapidly. There was a special word for that, too. Dizorentated. ¡°Are you okay?¡± It was a question asked out of politeness; she already knew the answer. ¡°I¡­ yeah, I am fine,¡± Will lied, which prompted a frown from Bella. She hated when he did that. Tulos Tulos told himself that he would rest and relax while his family was away, but thus far he had yet to do so. Since the baby had been born, there had been an undeniable lapse in the quality of the housework. That was fine, of course. Understandable, even¡­ even so, what started with a brief tidy rapidly became a deep clean. When he was sitting still, he felt guilty. Tina didn¡¯t get a day off, so why should he? It didn¡¯t seem fair, and a clean house would be a nice gesture. Some people hummed while they worked, but Tulos just moved from task to task with a quiet efficiency. The mop bucket was filled, the dust rag grew dusty, and steadily the home returned to some semblance of normalcy. It wouldn¡¯t last, but it never did. That wasn¡¯t the point. It was just nice to feel useful. When it was time for lunch, Tulos prepared it in a spotless kitchen. More mess would be created, but such was the way of things, and it could always be cleaned again. A loaf of bread was split in half and a selection of salted meats were carefully sliced into sandwich-appropriate strips. Naturally, he wielded his kitchen hatchet for the task. ¡­ The dull thudding of a wagging tail drew Tulos¡¯ attention. Fudge had wandered over to watch him work. It was odd that Will had left him at home, but he could only assume that it was somehow connected to Tina¡¯s curriculum. Normally, Fudge knew better than to beg for food, but evidently without Will present he¡¯d grown bold. The way the young dog eyed the meat was telling. ¡°This will need to be our little secret, you hear?¡± Naturally, Fudge did not respond, but he¡¯d remained largely unobtrusive while Tulos worked, which he decided warranted a reward. That and I suspect he will drool on my clean floors if I do not feed him. Tulos threw a handful of off-cuts and a few nicer pieces of meat for Fudge to snatch out of the air, which the prismatic pup did with gusto. Though to continue calling Fudge a pup was, perhaps, not quite accurate. He was young mentally, sure, but physically he was practically fully grown. In many ways, Tulos considered him the opposite to Will in that regard. Fudge padded away to another room of the house, seemingly content now that he¡¯d been fed. ¡­ Tulos returned to assembling his sandwich, trying not to be too disappointed that he¡¯d had to throw out some of the meat he¡¯d been planning to use. It was a shame that some cuts had gone bad. He- Wait, is that right? Tulos had the weirdest sense that something strange had happened, but he couldn¡¯t figure out what it was. Before he could dwell on it too much, he put his hatchet down with a sigh. I could have sworn I did not miss a spot. Living with dogs meant that dog hairs were a constant presence, but with the two main culprits away for the day, Tulos made an effort to be thorough in his cleaning. A small collection of Fudge¡¯s fur near the kitchen area meant that even that had not been sufficient. Lunch could wait another few minutes, he decided. At that point it was a matter of principle. Bella Bella watched Fudge through narrowed eyes as he returned. He¡¯d wandered off at some point and disappeared behind the other side of her house. While he was gone, Will had agreed to look at the clouds with her and- No. That¡¯s not true. Something about Bella¡¯s recollection of events was bothering her. It was like she was lying to herself and the experience made her visibly uncomfortable. ¡°Will, my tummy feels¡­ funny,¡± she whined. The word she had been searching for was nauseous, but bigger words, much like latches and knitting, were tricky sometimes. ¡°Is it something you¡­ ate?¡± Will trailed off as he asked the question. Fudge was wagging his tail while Will administered pats. When Will finished speaking, he sniffed audibly at the air. There was a moment¡¯s pause before he put his face right near Fudge¡¯s mouth and sniffed again. Bella watched as a flurry of emotions passed over Will¡¯s face. Surprise. Concern. Excitement. Worry. Excitement again. It was weird that he looked that way after smelling dog breath. Dog breath was icky. He also stared down - or more accurately, stared up - at Fudge with a scrutinous look. To Bella¡¯s surprise, it was enough to make the dog wither. His ears pressed down flat and his body was quick to follow. Even so, there was a slow wag in his tail. Despite being silently chastised, Fudge was still happy about something. ¡°You can go inside if your tummy feels funny,¡± Will said offhandedly. He didn¡¯t take his eyes off of Fudge, which Bella found annoying. It was like he didn¡¯t even care. ¡°Fine!¡± She snapped. There was a lot happening, things were strange, and just like big words, sometimes big emotions were challenging for Bella as well. She stormed off, fully prepared to complain to Will¡¯s mommy. After a few steps, she looked back, hoping to see a reaction. Again, Will didn¡¯t even seem to notice. It was infuriating. Chapter 56 ¡°It is difficult to compare a Skill like Spellsong to something like Sweeping. The former is, by its nature, innately more flashy. Many might argue that since it is harder to unlock, that it is also a superior Skill, even though the System does not distinguish Skills in such a manner. While this might be true at the lowest levels, I have seen the most mundane sounding Skills defy the imagination at higher Tiers. As such, I cannot agree with that theory as a matter of principle.¡± ~Unknown Several weeks had passed since I told Tina about the changes to Taming [Fudge]. Where I anticipated a prompt followup to discuss Fudge¡¯s Advancement, I instead received a few gentle reminders that it would happen ¡®soon¡¯. I got the impression Tina wanted to wait until Marco was slightly less dependent on her until we delved into things properly; no doubt she wanted to be able to give the situation her full attention. All things being equal, it was a reasonable course of action. Fudge would need time to settle into his new Skill, I had my own Skills to work on, and it would be several years - at least - before Fudge could Advance again. We had time, and Tina trusted I could handle things in the interim. Naturally, my interpretation of the situation was that I had her blessing to indulge my curiosity. Coaxing Fudge into using Quantum Manipulation became my primary objective. Fortunately, my regime already included time set aside to work on Taming. There was only a single problem, one that left my proverbial wheels spinning in the mud. That is, without a demonstration of the Skill, Fudge was unable to decipher what I wanted him to do; neither of us had any context for what the Skill looked like in action now that it had been quantified by the System. When it came to mundane commands, there were ways to coax dogs into performing the relevant action so that they could form an association between it and the chosen trigger word. Telling Fudge to ¡®do a quantum superposition¡¯ was consistently met with blank stares. Upgrading the Tamer Bond wasn¡¯t sufficient to bridge that particular gap in comprehension; I had also been growing increasingly reluctant to refer to the changes to Taming as anything but a burden. Instead of a vague sense of Fudge¡¯s emotions and wellbeing, it was like I had a klaxon blaring straight into my brain. Perseverance helped temper the worst of it, but it was merely a stopgap measure. Remedying the situation was another of my top priorities. To that end, I had some ideas. Well, I had one idea. The door separating Fudge and I had been destroyed, so I just needed to fix it. Rebuild it. Whatever. Now, how does one build an ephemeral door in a metaphorical doorway? Great. Fucking. Question. I could only assume mana was involved, but without an accurate sense of the situation it was like fumbling about a dark basement for a toolbox that was left in the attic. It was around that time the visit to Bella¡¯s happened. *** I had been nervous about going to see Bella¡¯s family; there was a real possibility that Fudge¡¯s new appearance would tip Lianda off regarding my Advancement. ¡°What is the alternative? For you to live like a hermit?¡± Tina had not been amused when I raised my concerns to her while we were en route, probably because they accompanied a suggestion that I minimize how much Fudge and I were seen in public. ¡°No. If need be, we will say I am responsible for Fudge. People might not believe it, but no one will challenge me on it - not publicly.¡± Off to the side, Vigil huffed as if to emphasize her point. I recognized a losing battle when I saw one, so I acquiesced. Suddenly becoming a recluse would likely draw just as much attention, anyway. The whole purpose of the visit was to allow Lianda and Bella to fawn over my baby brother. Part of me wondered why they didn¡¯t come to us, but I ultimately decided I didn¡¯t really care. I was already splitting my focus towards too many endeavors; deciphering the nuance of my parent¡¯s social interactions was not even in my top five list of priorities. Marco, to his credit, handled the affair with the type of elegance and grace one might expect from an infant. That is to say, he shit himself and cried a few times. Classic, really. I¡¯d been dwelling on how to handle my concerns regarding the upcoming bestowment of his Core Skill, but it was neither the time nor place to voice or dwell on them. Unfortunately, the allure of a baby doing baby things was not enough to keep Bella indefinitely occupied. When I wandered outside she waddled after me like an enthusiastic duckling. Bella was a sweet kid, but she was ultimately just that - a kid. Even without taking her increasingly troublesome Core Skill into consideration, I still lacked the desire and patience to engage in childish games and conversations for hours on end. If not for my promise to Tina, I¡¯d have gone full antisocial. As it was, I had to, at the bare minimum, tolerate talks of sheep haircuts and whatever else Bella wanted to do to waste the day away. I¡¯d once considered myself closer to a reluctant babysitter than a peer, and I maintained that it was the most accurate representation of my relationship to kids my age. We couldn¡¯t be friends, not really. HUNGRY. As far as impressions from Fudge were concerned, it was one I¡¯d grown intimately familiar with. While Bella pouted at me for answering her questions, because apparently that was not the correct thing to do, Fudge grumbled and started to wander off. And then the world fractured. Except it didn¡¯t. But it did. And it didn¡¯t. I left Fudge at home with Tulos that day as a way to test how far we could stretch the new Tamer- No, that¡¯s not right. Taming [Fudge] blazed like a bonfire in my mind¡¯s eye. My mana was rapidly being drawn through the Tamer Bond like water swirling down a drain at an alarming rate. HUNGRY. Hopeful¡­ JOY! Immediately, I recognized the sensations I felt from Fudge; he was being fed. Except, I¡¯d already known he was hungry because- All of my Skills erupted in a corona of brilliance, shining like a trio of miniature suns. Less than a minute had passed, but my mana was already dropping to dangerously low levels. In that moment, I became aware of two truths. Fudge came with Tina and I to visit Bella and Lianda. Fudge stayed at home with Tulos so we could stress test our upgraded Tamer Bond. I knew both of those statements were accurate even as they contradicted each other. I knew because, to Fudge, they were both a representation of his truth. My vision started to spin as my mind tried to yank itself in two separate directions. Fudge wandered back around from the other side of the house. Just as abruptly as it started, the drain on my mana came to a sudden end. The light of my Skills was snuffed. If not for my dwindling stores of mana and the throb of steadily increasing pain I felt in my skull, I might have dismissed the last less-than-a-minute as a vivid daydream. I have to be certain.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I pulled Fudge in close and sniffed at his breath. It was meaty. It was fresh. Bella said something about her stomach hurting, but I waved it off. I was too excited to care, such that even the blossoming jackhammer behind my eyes was momentarily forgotten. Fudge did it! I had no idea how specifically, but Fudge had existed in two states of being; two realities; two streams of possibility. It had to be Quantum Manipulation - a magical expression of quantum superposition. I could think of no other reasonable explanation. Even so, I had so many questions. Why did my mana drop so low? Did Fudge somehow take it to use the Skill? Would that work in reverse? What determined the mana cost? Would my Skills get better at letting me parse when Fudge was using the Skill? Question after question after question. Fudge, I am so proud of you! Before anything else, it was crucial I helped Fudge understand that I understood he used Quantum Manipulation. I focused on trying to remember the feeling I got when Fudge existed in two realities and pushed it through the Tamer Bond. I wanted to give him an anchor point, a touchstone for when I tried to coax him into using the Skill later. Tired. Uncomfortable. Reluctance. Fudge responded and curled up into a ball next to me, dramatically thudding into the ground hard enough to kick up some dust. He was content to have been fed, but evidently the Skill took a lot out of him. There were so many possible variables as to why that was that I couldn¡¯t even begin narrowing them down without more data points. Later. Later. Regardless, Fudge¡¯s response made it clear that he was in no state to repeat the feat any time soon. I decided to let him rest. Vigil was off wandering the fields with Jacket, the livestock guardian Tina bred and trained for Figuello. Bella had taken my advice and gone inside, much to my pleasant surprise. A bird was singing somewhere, one of those lower toned calls that sounded partway between a whistle and a gurgle. It was nice to have a bit of serenity to sit in while I processed my thoughts. I sent a tiny trickle of mana into Perseverance, just enough to try and clear my head. Obsessing over Fudge¡¯s Skill while he rested would be wasteful, and there were other things I could be doing while I waited for him and- Ouch. Right. Low mana. Trying to use Skills in that state was unwise. Which is exactly why I need to - carefully - do so anyway, I told myself. When I was in highschool, I had a soccer coach who would always run us ragged before we even got to touch a ball. The way he justified it, we¡¯d be run ragged on game days, so practicing in different conditions would be worthless. I felt like the same logic could be applied to mana. There would be times when my life could depend on functioning with low mana stores, so I needed to practice with them. That didn¡¯t mean it didn¡¯t suck worse than stepping in a puddle of water while wearing socks, though. I sat with my legs crossed and back straight, basically the lotus position but without the ¡®making a circle with your thumb and pinkie¡¯ thing. Instead, I rested my hands on my thighs, noting the feel of the fabric. The System indicated I had a talent for sensing mana through touch, so I had gotten into the habit of trying to activate my tactile sensitivity before practicing any mana exercises. Without the Mana Sense Skill, it was the best I could manage. But it does help, I told myself. Tulos. Lionel. Tina. Most of the adults in my life had regularly reminded me that just because I wasn¡¯t Skilled in something didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t practice it. On the contrary, doing so was an important part of preparing for Advancement and, on a societal level, likely contributed to people not being defective outside of their System Skills. Feel the air as it passes into your lungs, the way your chest expands and retracts. Note temperature. Wiggle your toes. With one hand, gently rub the fabric of your pants. Does it feel different? Why? What does the ground feel like? Is there wind? Is it damp? Is it dry? I ran through a list of elements in my environment I could feel with my sense of touch. When I first started the practice, I kept the list consistent, but over time I was gradually trying to mix it up or leave parts out. In an ideal world, I¡¯d begin to run through my sensory checklist subconsciously and periodically. Without getting too far ahead of myself, I was almost certain I¡¯d be picking up Mana Sense when I next Advanced, so the preemptive practice seemed prudent. It was easier said than done, though.. Normally, relying on stubborn persistence could only get me so far. Luckily for me, it was under those conditions that Perseverance tended to lend a helping hand, especially when my goals extended beyond basic sensory exercises. Okay, Recovery, we got this. Crippling agony tended to distort details, but I remembered doing something with Recovery while helping Fudge through his Advancement. It was the desperate culmination of the mana exercises I¡¯d been practicing the last couple of years. There was pushing, pulling, twisting, shaping, and a dozen other verbs as I worked through the visualization of action and reaction applied to the nebulous power that resided in my core, throughout my body, and within just about everything. Reflecting on the event had been the focus of my practice with mana for the last few weeks, and I felt I was on the cusp of a breakthrough. The feeling I had when Fudge was taking my mana was the final piece of the puzzle I needed, and I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if he had somehow been emulating my initial feat to an extent. It¡¯s the suction, like a drain or a vortex. If it was possible for mana to be absorbed from the environment, and I was only partially certain it was based on the fact that I had felt Tina and Vigil¡¯s mana on more than one occasion, then it was probably like osmosis; a natural, gradual process that passively occurred until an equilibrium was achieved. If Recovery mana could be used to draw in mana from the air around me, then I¡¯d be able to reduce my downtime, which would bestow all kinds of useful benefits in the long run. Every second counted. That¡¯s the hope, at least. Without Mana Sense, it was like feeling around for the worm in a barrel of wet spaghetti. I couldn¡¯t accurately discern how mana passed into my body, so the precision of my efforts would be mediocre, at best. It would be better than nothing, though. I removed one of my palms from its perch on my thigh and held it facing upwards. With a flex of will, I urged Recovery to send out a stream of mana that I directed to the exposed surface. Hands are sensitive. I will be better able to direct the mana this way. Intent is important. Even though I called on Recovery, I could feel the wisps of Perseverance and - to a greatly lesser extent - Taming that it carried along its wake. Only mana from my Core Skill would ever be truly pure, for everything else it would exist in a composite of some form. I suspected I could make the effort to separate the impurities by practicing a more nuanced application of the cleaning process used to gather unattributed mana. Could. At that moment, I had neither the spare mana, time, nor inclination to experiment with the process. One thing at a time. It was advice I seldom followed, but that didn¡¯t detract from its validity. I urged the mana to spin, to spiral. Air dances upon the surface of my palm and so too will my mana become of the air. It will be a breeze, at first, then a gale and finally a tornado. I felt the gathered mana on my palm start to move in accordance with my will, starting slowly at first, but with each rotation it grew faster, and faster. I dared not open my eyes, and at the edge of my perceptions I could almost feel something start to- The stream of mana abruptly cut off as a new, sharper pain blossomed behind my eye. The pain was almost enough to make me vomit. A wince. A curse. Fudge stirred from his rest and I felt a pang of concern come through the Tamer Bond. What the¡­ oh. Well. Fuck. I¡¯d all but bottomed out. Evidently, I didn¡¯t have enough mana left to properly start the process. The renewed throbbing in my skull promised a miserable evening. That seems about right¡­ I couldn¡¯t help but feel I was close to something, though. Ignoring the twinge it caused, I called up my System window and saw that Recovery had earned several new proficiency points. Vindication. I¡¯ll take it. I slumped back down, content to rest until- ¡°Will, have you been mean to Bella?¡± Tina¡¯s voice called out from the house and I groaned. Of course. Chapter 57 ¡°I am a stout believer in faith as a concept. It might be faith in one¡¯s self, or faith in a higher power, or faith in the System. Either way, there is a power to it that many academics tend to dismiss as illogical. I used to be among them. Their faith in observable data is an irony I suspect would be lost on many of them.¡± ~Unknown Much to my chagrin, I had been unable to coax Fudge into replicating his feat of Quantum Manipulation. Put pretentiously and perhaps predictably, convincing a canine to capitulate on matters of academic specificity was an ill advised endeavor. In the days that followed our visit to Bella¡¯s place, I concluded that Fudge didn¡¯t actually understand his Skill; not in the way I did, at least, and even I barely understood it. Much in the same way simply possessing Perseverance had made it easier for me to intuit ways to apply the Skill, Fudge was likely operating on a similarly instinctive level. The Skill was a part of him, an extension of what had started as the Dog Skill. There was no Skill tree. Just Fudge. Had the System taken liberties in interpreting the Skill during its formation to better connect my understanding of quantum theories with mana applications? How might Fudge¡¯s interpretations of the Skill alter its function? Again I found myself bludgeoned by uncertainty. All I knew was that, among other failed experiments, hiding a treat and asking Fudge to ¡®find it in a version of reality in which I didn¡¯t hide it¡¯ yielded precisely zero results. In this, I finally found myself feeling fortunate for the changes to the Tamer Bond. Through it, and beyond the tirade of emotional impressions, I could maintain a vague sense of Fudge¡¯s mana. Detecting the occasional dip in his reserves became possible. Deciphering what the mana was, or what it was doing, was a different matter entirely and one still beyond my capabilities. Once again, I found myself pining for Mana Sense. Ultimately, I was forced to accept that, for the foreseeable future, Quantum Manipulation would remain firmly in the domain of Fudge¡¯s whims. Until Tina and I spoke about Fudge¡¯s Advancement properly, the shiny new Taming techniques she promised remained a nebulous, potential remedy. I could only hope they would work. In the meantime, I had plenty to keep me busy. Working with a fully replenished pool of mana, recreating my earlier efforts with Recovery yielded promising results. Maybe. Without a way to accurately sense the fucking mana, my read on the efficiency of the impromptu ¡®vortex¡¯ technique was limited, at best. It was doing something, though. The proficiency points I was gaining attested to that much, but it wasn¡¯t like the System was convenient enough to provide me with a mana regeneration rate or anything of the sort. Wake up. Run. Practice. Eat. Sleep. Despite my growing list of frustrations, I stuck to the routine. Every setback, every problem, was fuel for Perseverance. The more I struggled with my other Skills, the more my Core Skill would flourish until I could overcome them. For the old me, it would have been so easy to let every vex justify a lapse. A mistake could justify finishing early; a late start could excuse leaving for tomorrow what should be done today. Back then and before long, a thousand broken promises to return into half-started projects weighed me down in the face of opportunities to rise. I refused to let that happen again, even if it took literal magic to make it so. If I was a creature of habit, then I would drill better habits into myself with the sadistic glee of a dentist¡¯s caricature. The only exceptions were those forced upon me. Down time was part of my regime, an addition from my parents that had been non-negotiable. Officially, it was time to play - to be a kid. I¡¯d already been a kid, though. Instead, I tried to fill the time in other ways. It could be nothing overt, but my thoughts offered sanctuary. Recently, my downtime was filled with thoughts of Marco. I¡¯d been so occupied with my own Advancement that, for the most part, I probably didn¡¯t pay him as much attention as a good older brother should. That was easily forgivable, though. Babies that age weren¡¯t ¡®online¡¯ yet; the earliest years of my first life were well and truly lost to the void, and I dared not even entertain the idea of trying to retrieve them. No doubt, it would be the same for Marco. Everything he experienced for the first few years of his life would be lost to the fugue of infancy. Unless, of course, by some bizarre twist of fate my brother was also a reincarnated¡­ soul? Person? Unless his circumstances somehow mirrored my own, I knew he wouldn¡¯t hold the relative neglect against me. That didn¡¯t mean I didn¡¯t care about the little guy, though. As Will, I¡¯d already decided that my new parents were family. Marco immediately fell into that category as well. He was my baby brother and I was determined to treat him as such. Unless of course he grows up to be an insufferable dick, but that¡¯s a separate issue. My flexible views on family went both ways. Being related to someone was not carte blanche to abuse that connection. By the end of the month, Marco would receive his Core Skill. To most people, the process was a mystery, closer to a divine bestowal than anything else. I knew better. Marco would have an opportunity to request a Skill. Failure to do so would result in a random Skill being assigned instead. Seeing as how infants lacked the cognitive function to consciously engage with anything on a complex level, let alone the System, I could only assume the latter always occurred. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Figuring out why the System worked that way was beyond me. If the best minds in the world had yet to figure it out, then I doubted I¡¯d have much luck winging it in a backwater farmhouse. It was frustrating, but unless something dramatically changed I knew I¡¯d be forced to simply accept that it was the way it was. Just because I didn¡¯t understand something, didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t make use of it, though. I knew that Marco would be offered a choice at some point. The question was whether or not I could somehow¡­ make the choice on his behalf. I doubted it¡¯d be as simple as perching over his crib like a gargoyle and whispering the name of a Skill ad nauseum. I¡¯d have wagered all the money I didn¡¯t have that there were people who practiced something similar for superstitious reasons, or at the very least tested it as one possible method to influence the ¡®random¡¯ Core Skill a child received. Just because I received what I would consider an advanced education in my first life didn¡¯t automatically make me smarter than other people. By all accounts, I was comfortably in the realm of slightly above average if my test scores were anything to go by. Arrogance wouldn¡¯t serve me well, and I was under no illusions that genuinely brilliant minds didn¡¯t exist in this world. If the solution were something obvious, it probably would have already been discovered. Unless, of course, that knowledge was being suppressed somehow. ¡­ Fuck. Was it unlikely? Probably. Was it impossible? In a world with magical Skills, I couldn¡¯t write off the possibility. Assuming the possibility wasn¡¯t just a pipedream, if I was going to dedicate time and energy to trying to influence Marco¡¯s Core Skill, there was a different question I needed to ask myself. Should I? With experience came insight. While I was not dissatisfied with Perseverance - far from it - I could also acknowledge that there might have been some¡­ not better, necessarily, but more theoretically optimal choices. Would I have been able to make the most of those options without Perseverance? It was impossible to say, and it was largely a moot point. From the perspective of Marco, would it be better to have a choice thrust upon him by the System or by his older brother? Surely it had to be the latter¡­ I was not thrilled with my conclusion, but so long as I tried to get him a Universal Core like I had, then it¡¯d minimize the risk of my intervention forcing him onto a path he didn¡¯t want. Universal Cores had their own problems, though. Much of my down time was spent pondering the question, yet I remained indecisive. When the eve of Marco¡¯s System Day was only a couple of weeks away, I decided to outsource the problem. We were all sitting together on the front porch, Tina, Tulos, and I. Marco had been put down for the night - or as much of it as he¡¯d sleep through - so Vigil was in the room with him to keep watch. Fudge was curled up next to me, sleeping off his dinner and sending me feelings of contentment through the Tamer Bond. There was no conversation, nor had there been, really. We simply enjoyed each other¡¯s company beneath the dimming twilight. I treasured those quiet moments. There were no expectations, no demands, just acceptance. We were a family. I felt my chest tighten at the thought. Family. Home. Love. I really was a coward, one who shattered the silence to escape his ghosts. ¡°Is it possible to help a baby get a specific Core Skill?¡± I practically blurted the question, which attracted confused looks from my parents. End me now. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Without thinking, I went to draw from Perseverance like a junkie looking for his next hit. I felt the Skill illuminate, but Recovery muted the effect enough for me to realize what I was doing and stop myself. ¡°We already told you this,¡± Tina said first. She¡¯d been idly brushing her hair and didn¡¯t stop on my account. ¡°You did, but I thought maybe it was one of those things you were keeping from me ¡®until I was old enough.¡¯¡± Finger quotes weren¡¯t a thing here, but I like to think they were implied. ¡°No. There is no secret. Our Core Skills simply are.¡± Tulos added his own, rumbling voice to the discussion. ¡°Why do you ask?¡± ¡°What do you mean why does he ask?¡± Tina cut in before I could respond. ¡°You know as well as I do why he would be asking now of all times.¡± ¡°I suspected, but did not wish to assume.¡± ¡°That¡­ Fine.¡± Tina narrowed her eyes at Tulos, clearly unhappy with the exchange. Things between Tina and Tulos had been tense recently; it was something I attributed to the stress of caring for an infant. Compared to some of the shouting matches I remembered from my first go around, their tiny tussles were downright civil. Even so, I couldn''t help but feel a pang of guilt for prompting the conversation to begin with. I coughed to get their attention before responding. ¡°It is because Marco is about to get his Core Skill, yes.¡± I took a moment to swallow and wet my lips. ¡°If there was a way, would you do it?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± My parents answered simultaneously before turning to stare at one another. I found it surprising that Tulos was the one who answered in the negative. ¡°Pardon me? No?¡± Tina sounded incredulous. ¡°It is not for us to choose Marco¡¯s place in the world.¡± Tulos responded with his usual, even tone but I noticed an edge to it. ¡°Would you not want to give your child a-¡± ¡°No, I would not.¡± Tulos cut her off, and she looked pissed. ¡°My Core Skill is considered valuable, my love. I do not wish for Marco to gain a coveted Skill, just a Skill that suits him, and he cannot yet tell us what that would be.¡± The more Tulos spoke, the more I saw the fire in Tina¡¯s eyes extinguish. That was a lot of words all at once by his standards. I watched as she took a deep breath and set her brush down in her lap. ¡°This is all a hypothetical, anyway. I do not wish to argue with you, my love.¡± Evidently, his words had not been enough to completely sway her. ¡°I agree.¡± They returned to slightly strained, but still companionable, silence. I considered saying something but then thought better of it. Best to let sleeping lions rest. I¡¯d made my decision. Chapter 58 ¡°When a man Skilled with Sailing perfectly trims the sheets, at what point does his Skill transcend from reading the wind to calling it? Skills get strange when they Advance far enough; they carry more of their user¡¯s touch. Discuss.¡± ~Unknown My alone time with Marco was infrequent. I dared not disturb him after he¡¯d been set down to nap, and seldom was I called upon to watch him otherwise. Tulos¡¯ words swayed me, in the end. The System might give Marco something undesirable by my standards. My standards. It was an important distinction; declaring myself arbiter on the matter would have been arrogant at best. Despite my decision, whenever I peered into Marco¡¯s crib and watched his mushy, little baby face in peaceful slumber, I was met with doubt. What if? Such an insidious little question. Slithering. Squirming. It worms into you and whispers reassurances. This was not the ¡®what if¡¯ of opportunities lost to time - of hypotheticals and fantasy. No, this ¡®what if¡¯ was temptation, for all who heard it knew its allure could maybe, just maybe, be made manifest. What if I discovered a way to influence a baby¡¯s Core Skill? Easy enough to disregard the notion given the decision I¡¯d made. I had no intention of exercising that influence, unlikely though it may be to even exist. It was a moot point. What if I tried anyway, just to see if it was possible? Surely, it would be fine to simply know - on an academic level - if having the insights I did could change things. That didn¡¯t mean I would leverage that knowledge, right? What if? What if? What if? I¡¯d come to despise the question. I hated it, for it was a question that so regularly tormented me. Even so, I could not dismiss it, not really. For all I complained, I knew, deep down, that ¡®what if¡¯ already had a hold of me. What if I can get back to my old life some day? Being beholden to such a colossal ¡®what if¡¯ made it harder to ignore its less impressive spawn. Even the hypotheticals that challenged my desire paled before the hope I so desperately clung to. Reluctantly, I drew on Perseverance to resist the temptation. The Skill reinforced what little self-control I¡¯d been able to muster on my own, a reminder of my inadequacies. Mana cleared away my doubts, but the memory of them remained. Despite the progress I¡¯d made and the accomplishments I¡¯d earned, there was a lingering fragility to my unenhanced resolve. It was a difficult truth to swallow. *** We were one night away from Marco¡¯s System-day. Much to my exasperation, the event was not enough for my playdate with Bella to be canceled. I watched as Tulos and Figuello casually carried some crude, wooden obstacles onto the field near our house; both men were in possession of Strength [Body] and made the task look effortless. Seeing the configuration they were being set up in was enough to elicit a groan from me. Bella was standing next to me and had been casually petting Fudge while we waited. Like always, it felt as if her opinion of me reset every time her company was thrust upon me. Frustrations were forgotten and she simply took joy in having someone her own age to spend time with; one of the perks of youth, I supposed. No doubt, she noticed the setup roughly the same time I did. I could feel the smug smirk as it crept onto her face. Bella sensed my frustration, because of course she did, and pranced a pivot to stand in front of me. ¡°It is okay, Will, maybe today you will win one of the games.¡± The game in question was a combination between tag and an age-appropriate obstacle course. Bella¡¯s confidence stemmed from the fact that, in this particular game, she was undefeated. ¡°You and I both know that is unlikely.¡± I did my best not to sound too bitter about it. ¡°Would you like some advice?¡± I realize feeling competitive when up against a child was unbecoming, but it was precisely because Bella was a child that her superiority in this area irked me so. I had Advanced, so even though Bella had about a year on me I was still more capable from a purely physical standpoint. ¡°No.¡± I was faster than Bella, but not to the point where I could overwhelm her advantage. ¡°Not unless you want to help me get better at lying to you.¡± Bella¡¯s Core Skill was Observation [Social, Truth] and it made her frustratingly good at reading people. In a game of feints and misdirection it gave her the edge; I was outclassed. ¡°That will be tricky.¡± Bella poked her tongue out before pausing and looking over her shoulder. ¡°Papa said not to tell anyone this, but I think it will be okay if I tell you.¡± She leaned forward and cupped her hands around her mouth before continuing in a whisper. ¡°My System said I am ready to Advance, so soon Papa and Mama are going to help me do it.¡± ¡°...¡± I was speechless. I knew, academically, that Bella¡¯s Skill would have given her ample opportunity to gather proficiency points. It still stung to learn that, despite my advantages, the lead I''d gained over a local barely amounted to a few years. Well, fuck¡­ ¡°You seem upset. I thought you would be happy for me?¡± Bella pouted when she saw my reaction. ¡°It is going to be a lot harder to beat you now.¡± It wasn¡¯t a lie, and given the news of Bella¡¯s pending Advancement, I began to worry even that technicality might not be enough. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Bella squinted and stepped in close. ¡°That¡­ Well. Okay. That makes sense. If you want, I can go easy on you.¡± By the end of her sentence, Bella had returned to her usual, chipper cadence. ¡°I-¡± ¡°Kids!¡± Tulos called out to us. With an excited giggle, Bella turned and scurried towards the equipment, the severity of our conversation lost to a child¡¯s excitement. Saved by the bell. *** I once knew a guy who worked at a fast food sandwich joint. There was a distinct smell to the place. The bread. The ingredients. You could walk in there blindfolded and immediately know where you were. Apparently, after a couple of years working there, the smell just vanishes for a person. It is still physically there, obviously, but the brain just decides to ignore it. Psychologically speaking, a person¡¯s capacity to adapt to situations is a marvel. Even though Taming [Fudge] had inflicted an ever-present awareness of all things Fudge on me since its Advancement, I found myself steadily growing used to the sensation now that it had been a couple of months. Unlike my friend who worked at the sandwich shop, I was still cognizant of the sensation. Without Perseverance, the static of it all would have left me regularly unable to engage in coherent conversation. It wasn¡¯t perfect - I was still not operating at full capacity - but it was something. Working towards a more permanent solution remained high on my list of priorities, but in the interim, I¡¯d noticed a distinct uptick in my progress of Perseverance so I was content to take the good with the bad. I carried that attitude with me into Marco¡¯s System Day. Celebrating his pending induction into the System was exciting as it was anxiety-inducing. As our little family put on big smiles for the baby who would not even remember them, I was reminded that the occasion was less for Marco and more for everyone else; if we all told each other that everything was fine, then maybe we¡¯d start to believe it. Just one big performance. I could still sense a tension between my parents, but no one acknowledged it. Marco¡¯s eyes went wide when he was given a vegetable puree, and I remembered my own excitement at having my diet expand beyond- Yeah, let¡¯s not delve into memories best left buried. Dark times. Marco babbled, giggled and spilled most of the green mush down the front of his torso but he seemed to enjoy it all the same. Eventually, Tulos laid out the carved, wooden tokens, much like he had on my System Day. It took a while for Marco to choose one. He largely seemed content to do his own thing. ¡°How long do we wait?¡± I eventually asked. ¡°As long as we need to.¡± It was Tulos who answered. ¡°That-¡± Before I could finish, Marco finally crumpled forward and slapped his hands down with a giggle. In doing so, he touched two of the tokens at once. One of the tokens bore the image of a musical instrument and chisel, a representation of artistic endeavors. The other was the same one I chose, adorned with weaponry. Internally, I winced and looked at a deflated Tulos through the corner of my eye. That¡¯s a rough one. ¡°What does it mean if he picks two?¡± I tried to distract Tulos from the coincidence of it all. ¡°That is largely up to interpretation,¡± Tina answered as she scooped Marco back up into her arms. The little guy took the opportunity to let loose a squeaky yawn. ¡°In any case, I think this young man is ready for a rest, no?¡± She stood and started making her way over to the bedroom. ¡°I can watch over him while he naps,¡± I volunteered. Marco had been born in the evening, not overnight like I was. His Skill would be decided sooner rather than later. I knew it wouldn¡¯t likely amount to anything, but I wanted to be nearby when it happened anyway. ¡°You two can go for a walk or something; get out of the house and spend some time together.¡± Tina hesitated. ¡°Will, I am not sure if-¡± ¡°Pleeeaaassseeeeeeee.¡± I wasn¡¯t proud of it, but Tina tended to cave if I got childish - especially for little things. Naturally, I tried to limit how often I took advantage of that power. Her expression softened. ¡°Thank you, my Will, that sounds lovely.¡± She looked towards Tulos who just nodded but didn¡¯t object to the situation. Objectively, I knew simply babysitting for a little while wouldn¡¯t magically fix things for my parents, but it was better than nothing. Probably. I hoped. So long as whatever is going on between them doesn¡¯t fester, I¡¯ll be content. ¡°Vigil, you stay with Fudge and I, too,¡± I said to the curled up metallic dog. Vigil raised his head and looked at me briefly before turning to stare at Tina. She held his gaze for a long moment before he simply settled back down. ¡°Looks like he is going to stay,¡± Tina chirped. ¡°Come on, love.¡± Tina transferred Marco to his crib before heading out with Tulos. I let several minutes pass. Fudge had planted himself in the doorway, making his body go flat as he watched me. I could hear his tail gently wagging. Happy. The impression brought a smile to my face. ¡°Me too, buddy. Me too.¡± I looked over my shoulder and strained my ears. There was no sign that anyone else was around. Last chance¡­ If I was going to try and weigh in on Marco¡¯s Core Skill selection, it was now or never. My hands grabbed the lip on his crib and squeezed. I watched as my knuckles went white. Almost instinctively, I reached for Perseverance. No. One word. A command of the self. I stopped, not letting the mana leave my core. I¡¯d gotten so far, but if I only ever relied on my Skills I knew I¡¯d never have any confidence in myself beyond them. The temptation to utter a few words - to merely test the possibility - gnawed at me. It would be so easy to abandon my conviction. That¡¯s why it¡¯s so important that I don¡¯t. Reluctantly, I peeled myself away from the crib and sat on the chair in the corner of my parent¡¯s room. Soon, Marco¡¯s Core Skill will be selected. Tomorrow we will go visit Hwan to learn what it is. And that is okay. Soon, Marco¡¯s Core Skill will be selected. Tomorrow we will go visit Hwan to learn what it is. And that is okay. I repeated the words to myself as the minutes continued to stretch, hoping that it would be enough. Chapter 59 ¡°For those of you who have read this far through the poorly organized ramblings of a man possessed by passion, you have my sympathies. Either your obsession rivals my own or this text was inflicted upon you. Regardless, I wish you well. Unless, of course, this is the first page you turned to through happenstance or because someone who earned these words tipped you off. Should you fall into this second category, I hope - with great malice - that you stub your toe on something pointy. Why? None of your business. Read the book properly if you want to find out.¡± ~Unknown ¡°Farriering [Horse].¡± Hwan read the words aloud with calm professionalism. Marco was asleep in Tina¡¯s arms, but evidently consciousness was not required for the ¡®Status Orb¡¯ - as I¡¯d come to refer to Hwan¡¯s bonafide magical item - to manifest a simplified representation of the infant¡¯s Core Skill. I watched in real time as the tension drained from my parent¡¯s shoulders, even as a wave of relief all my own washed over me. Their response said it all; there were no immediate issues with Marco¡¯s Core Skill. He was normal, as far as such things went. We were crammed into Hwan¡¯s office. Despite the passage of years since my first visit, it remained just as sparse, if neatly maintained. ¡°It is a fine Core Skill,¡± Hwan continued, letting a polite smile grace his expression and sharpen the crow¡¯s feet creeping out the corners of his eyes. ¡°Farriering¡­¡± Tulos let the word trail off for a moment. ¡°Are there any in the village with the Skill?¡± ¡°I am afraid not, but it is not an insurmountable barrier,¡± Hwan replied reassuringly. ¡°For most, Skilled farriering would be excessive - especially this far from The Capital. That does not mean there are none versed in the techniques, though.¡± All three of us nodded our understanding. Tina, who was holding Marco, pulled him in closer, as if afraid the good news would somehow sour and suddenly snatch him from her. ¡°Will you buy a horse for Marco to practice on?¡± It seemed like the easiest way to give him access to proficiency points. My own curiosity aside, Tina looked like she needed a distraction. ¡°Among other things, probably - eventually. We will also need to get him an apprenticeship with a Smith when he is old enough.¡± Tina took the bait and answered, her lips gently pursed as she considered the situation. Tulos rested one of his hands on Tina¡¯s knee to get her attention. ¡°Those are all concerns for a later time.¡± As the pair locked eyes, silent communication occurred. That language of trust and understanding, untested in weeks, easily remembered when no longer burdened by concerns of Core Skills and terrifying hypotheticals. ¡°You are right, love.¡± ¡°I will handle the paperwork, of course, but unless there is anything else I believe we can finish up.¡± Hwan was either oblivious to their moment or unwilling to play host to it. Surprisingly, his words poured a bucket of ice water over my parents - it went beyond the shy embarrassment of being caught in an intimate moment. Tina was the first to regain her composure. ¡°There is something else, actually.¡± Hwan gestured for her to continue, a hint of confusion in his eyes. Or is that concern? Maybe? I didn¡¯t dwell on it too long. I was similarly unaware of an additional purpose to our visit. ¡°It concerns Will. Now that we are in a formal meeting, there is no excuse to not bring it up.¡± I clenched the fabric of my pants in alarm as I realized where Tina was going with her train of thought. Through the Tamer Bond, I felt Fudge stir briefly from his position outside. CONCERN? I forced a feeling of reassurance to Fudge in response to his innocent inquiry, but my attention remained largely locked on the conversation. I didn¡¯t even have time to properly appreciate the serendipitous mirroring of our thoughts. ¡°Will has entered the first Tier.¡± Tina had paused just long enough to take a quick breath before dropping the bombshell; quick, like ripping off a bandaid. ¡°... Pardon?¡± Hwan¡¯s question was flat, which wasn¡¯t exactly reassuring. He definitely- ¡°You heard.¡± It was Tulos who replied, his expression grim as he voiced my half-finished thought. Everyone knew the implications of the report, and I could at least infer them. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. I also wasn''t warned about any of this¡­ It was irksome. Hwan interlocked his fingers and rested the resulting ¡®double-fist¡¯ on his desk. Exasperation leaked out of him in a long sigh. ¡°When?¡± ¡°Officially? A week ago.¡± Tina had taken the lead in the discussion. ¡°Unofficially?¡± ¡°We both know it would be dangerous for you to know that.¡± ¡°It is dangerous regardless.¡± Hwan¡¯s rebuttal carried conviction and his eyes hardened. ¡°Should I come under real scrutiny, even my meager suspicions will come to light, and I would wager they at least touch on the truth.¡± My head was flicking between the two of them as if I were watching a tennis match. Gonna have to call it 15-love for Hwan on that one. The message was clear; he was sticking his neck out for us, so he deserved the truth. It was hard to disagree. ¡°Sorry, Hwan, you are right I just¡­¡± ¡°I know. I understand. Even so.¡± Tina adjusted her grip on Marco, who was still managing to sleep through the affair. ¡°Right. Will Advanced the same day as the Fueha attack. The encounter was his breakthrough, see?¡± I saw Hwan¡¯s eyes widen slightly at the news but his face betrayed little else. ¡°I see. This complicates matters.¡± His hands separated and one of them drummed on the large book that took up most of his desk. ¡°I will need the details.¡± ¡°We understand.¡± The urge to interrupt and plead some kind of case was nagging at me but I could think of nothing that would meaningfully sway the situation. There was no room for full secrecy. Not legally, at least. It was an empty prospect and I knew it; we weren¡¯t in any position to defy the law. I was forced to sit in quiet frustration while Tina laid bare the circumstances surrounding my Advancement. ¡°The presence of the younger dog makes significantly more sense now,¡± Hwan commented as Tina told him about Taming [Dog], the first of my new Skills. At one point, he retrieved a piece of parchment and quill pen from his desk and started jotting down notes in tight, efficient script. ¡°What of the second Skill?¡± There was no response. ¡°Tina, what was Will¡¯s second- I do not like that expression.¡± He glanced up from the page mid-sentence and saw the hesitation Tina wore. ¡°Tina. What was the Skill?¡± ¡°Listen, Hwan, is there any chance we can-¡± ¡°The. Skill. What was it?¡± ¡°I chose Recovery.¡± Dancing around the issue was anxiety inducing in itself and I was in no mood to indulge that emotion - I did enough of that at home. ¡°Apparently it is unusual, but I already have Perseverance as a Core Skill, so¡­¡± I trailed off, trusting the adults to catch my implication. I¡¯m an outlier either way. Hwan¡¯s scribbling stopped mid-stroke. ¡°Is he telling the truth?¡± Both of my parents nodded their affirmation, and Tulos uncomfortably shifted his weight in his too-small chair. ¡°Well¡­ shit.¡± It was almost enough to make me sputter; I¡¯d never heard the older man get remotely close to cursing, especially in official dealings. We gave Hwan a few moments to gather his thoughts. The nib of his quill tapped staccato against the parchment, a gentle rhythm for his thoughts. I noticed that, despite the relative carelessness of the action, not a single drop of ink was spilled, smudged or set loose from the confines of the instrument. A Skill, maybe? ¡°Well, in the short term this changes nothing,¡± he eventually concluded. ¡°I will send my monthly reports and what will be will be. Have you made preparations?¡± The question was directed towards Tina and Tulos; no effort was made to disguise the subtext. Have you made preparations for when this inevitably becomes an issue. ¡°We have.¡± It was Tulos who answered, since the question made Tina visibly uncomfortable. I reached out and grabbed the hem of her shirt, a trinket display of comfort and support. ¡°Then I believe that is all for today.¡± There was a finality to the words. Polite farewells were exchanged and it wasn¡¯t long before we were back on the road. There was no laughter or pleasant conversation, just an air of subdued anticipation. Tina held Marco like a delicate lifeline, periodically kissing the top of scalp with a mother¡¯s tenderness. Tulos walked with a fist clenched, though occasionally I saw his fingers twitch as if grasping for something that wasn¡¯t there. Fudge tried to cheer me up with his antics, but soon realized that I just wanted him to be close. I trudged alongside him, burdened by a pang of guilt. What should have been a day for happy celebration and planning for Marco¡¯s future was tainted by the problems born from my existence. I¡¯d already robbed Tina and Tulos of regular childrearing once, and it felt like my presence was going to ruin the chance they had with Marco, too. I sighed. It was hard not to feel responsible. By all accounts, they¡¯ll probably be better off once I am out of the picture. Chapter 60 Chapter 60 ¡°What is the societal threshold? It is a rather curious line of thinking, so I will put to you its foundational query: At what point does a society¡¯s dependence on Skills for technology become unsustainable? The idea is that we are bottlenecked since society cannot depend on the genius of high Tiered masters to be replicated in future generations. Discuss.¡± ~Unknown Three times I tapped my knuckles against the door to my parent¡¯s bedroom. The door was ajar, so a proper knock would have pushed it open and defeated the purpose. Frankly, signaling my presence at all was likely an exercise in redundancy, given how sharp I¡¯d come to learn my mother¡¯s senses could be. Best not to depend on that though, lest I develop unfortunate habits. While boorishly barging into rooms unannounced had the capacity to convey a sort of¡­ something, it was not a something I possessed nor was it a something I had any interest in cultivating. No, mine was the domain of the overthinker. Logically, one consumed by thought should be wise and ready for anything. Reality is often disappointing, for to overthink is often to be overwhelmed by hypotheticals, trapped in the liminal space between thought and action. It is why ¡®local heroes¡¯ interviewed by professionally cheery field reporters often attributed their success to acting without thinking. ¡°You can come in, Will.¡± Tina¡¯s voice pulled me from thoughts of thought. A good thing, too. It was a new morning, and despite the subdued mood that clung to the household yesterday, I was determined to address my concerns and then¡­ Honestly, I didn¡¯t get that far, yet. Training. Probably. As usual, Vigil had laid claim to the majority of the floor space by sheer virtue of his size. Child-sized limbs made navigating around him a tricky prospect but one I had grown rather adept at given years of practice. Quicksilver eyes watched me intently as I attempted the feat, and I could have sworn they carried the glint of amusement. ¡°Good morning, mom,¡± I said with a smile, mindful to keep my voice down so as to not disturb the bundle of baby asleep in the nearby crib. Tulos had made an early start, so was not present, as was becoming the norm most mornings. Marco had been getting better at sleeping through the night uninterrupted, but he still regularly woke at the crack of ¡®too-fucking-early¡¯ like a rooster that fancied itself a banshee. Evidently, my father¡¯s solution was to embrace the lack of sleep instead of struggling to steal a precious few extra hours. Tina scooped me up into the bed next to her, making sure to give me a cuddle in the process. There were few things as soothing as a mother¡¯s hug, and I leaned into the warmth of it. She situated me in the divot left in the mattress by Tulos¡¯ bulk; the springy synthetics of modern bedding were a luxury left in my first life, unfortunately. Not that I¡¯m not used to it by now. A quick glance at the doorway revealed Fudge flat on the ground inching ever so slowly towards his sire, betrayed only by the faint scraping of his claws against the floor. Vigil, to his credit, pretended not to notice. I could sense Fudge¡¯s mischievous delight through the Tamer Bond and decided to leave the pair to their fun. It was still impossible to tune the bond out completely - or at all, really - but I managed well enough. ¡°Is everything okay, my Will?¡± Tina¡¯s question stung a bit, since it touched on part of what brought me to her first thing in the morning. ¡°In general? Yes, but I wanted to talk to you about yesterday.¡± I watched as Tina gave a slight nod; she¡¯d been expecting as much. Which is, honestly, part of the problem. ¡°Before that, though, I wanted to apologize.¡± ¡°Apologize? What for?¡± Tina pushed herself upright so she could sit a little straighter and give me her full attention. ¡°It feels like I only come to you or dad when I want something.¡± I frowned, mostly at myself. My reflections regarding my influence on Tina and Tulos¡¯ life had unearthed some unfortunate personal truths. ¡°That is not a good way to treat family, I think, so I wanted to apologize.¡± ¡°Will, that-¡± ¡°What makes it worse is that there IS something I want from you today, too, so it makes me feel like my motives for apologizing are also not good enough.¡± ¡°Will, please-¡± ¡°I also feel like I ruined what should have been a good day yesterday, and-¡± ¡°Will!¡± Tina snapped at me, which finally shut me up. A flash of guilt crossed her face but she was quick to reclaim her composure. ¡°Will, my sweet Will, you do not need to apologize for depending on us, you see?¡± She chuckled softly, and I didn¡¯t miss the hint of sadness that snuck into the sound. ¡°We are your parents. You are supposed to come to us when you want things.¡± She leaned over and softly kissed the top of my head, making me momentarily cognizant of the bed-headed tangle in my hair I still hadn¡¯t dealt with. A quick pulse of Perseverance banished the distracting thought and helped anchor me to the moment. Tina¡¯s gentle reprimand was difficult to accept. I held myself to the standards of an adult. She held me to the standards of a child. So long as that deception existed, the barrier between us would remain. Even so, I still had no intention of tearing it down and was starting to loathe myself for it. ¡°Okay, mom, I understand.¡± Another lie, of sorts, but a necessary one. ¡°You really do not mind?¡± ¡°Not at all. You can come to me or your father for anything at any time.¡± Her tone made it clear that she would accept no arguments on that particular matter. That, more than anything, made me feel a little better. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Tina¡¯s permission, even gained under what felt like false-pretense, was a validation of my behavior, an easing of the guilt I¡¯d been feeling. Not all of it, of course, but enough to not waver on my priorities. Would it have been better if she reprimanded me? Would I have made an effort to change if Tina condemned my actions instead of supporting them, despite her fragmented understanding of my circumstances? It was impossible to say. I didn¡¯t know what I wanted, only that I needed to say something. And now I have. ¡°Thanks, mom. I love you.¡± Acceptance was the only sensible path available to me, at least until future doubts threatened to push me off it. ¡°I love you too, my Will.¡± She pulled me in for another quick hug before continuing. ¡°Now. About yesterday¡­ what did you want to speak about?¡± She ushered the conversation onwards, perhaps concerned that I would hesitate to do so myself. ¡°Yesterday reminded me that, sooner than I would prefer, I might have to leave.¡± I paused as I felt Tina tense up next to me. ¡°I know it is not fun to think about, but everyone seems convinced it is inevitable, and I am worried we are running out of time together. There is still so much I want you to teach me.¡± One of my main motivations for selecting Taming [Dog] was having access to Tina as a mentor. ¡°You are right, my Will. It is not fun to talk about at all.¡± I felt the bed start to shake slightly as one of Tina¡¯s legs began to try and tap while horizontal, an outlet for her anxious energy. ¡°Did you know that the former nobility often send their children away at a young age as a matter of course?¡± ¡°They do? Wait- the former nobility?¡± Her question caught me off guard, so I didn¡¯t properly register the false bravado that accompanied it. ¡°Mhmm, so if you think about it, it is almost like you are going to be treated like royalty.¡± I could tell she was trying to cheer me up with the distraction. She might also be trying to distract herself. All the more reason to play along, at least for a time. My curiosity had been piqued either way. ¡°No. I mean, what do you mean by former nobility? What about the current nobility?¡± Tina just blinked a few times as she processed the question. ¡°Because there is no nobility anymore.¡± ¡°So The Crown is royalty without a noble class?¡± I was so caught up on the strangeness of it all that I spoke without thinking; concepts of government had not been a highlight of my education as Will. Thankfully, Tina didn¡¯t seem to notice as she was instead focused on deciphering my question. After a beat, embarrassment coloured Tina¡¯s cheeks and she chuckled ruefully. ¡°I sometimes forget how young you still are, Will, so of course you would not know. The stories we told you often featured kings, queens and kingdoms, so I understand why you would get the wrong idea. The Crown is not like that. It was, and the name stuck, but we no longer have a king. This all happened a long time ago, of course, back when your grandfather was a young boy like you.¡± ¡°That¡­ that sounds silly.¡± I wanted to say it sounded ¡®fucking stupid,¡¯ but that might have been pushing things. ¡°Why do they still call it The Crown? What even is The Crown?¡± ¡°You are asking many things at a time so early in the morning,¡± Tina said with unmasked amusement in her voice. ¡°If I give you the very short version, will you be content for the time being?¡± Definitely not. ¡°Yes.¡± Tina cocked an eyebrow at my obvious lie - she was getting dangerously good at reading me - but the smile never left her face. ¡°Alright then, the short version is that we used to have a king - or a queen, and sometimes both - and everyone referred to them as ¡®The Crown¡¯, you see?¡± After I gave a quick nod, she continued. ¡°Then, a lot happened, and no, those details are not going to be included in the short version.¡± She cut off my question before I could give it a voice, but I could make an educated guess as to why. Change is seldom peaceful. ¡°Now, The Capital is overseen by a council - a group of people who represent other groups. Outside of the bigger cities, though, not much changed. Taxes still needed to be paid, crops still needed to be grown, and enough people kept on referring to the people in charge as ¡®The Crown¡¯ that they eventually gave up trying to change it. I have so many questions. It wasn¡¯t the most exciting story, but the nuance of government wasn¡¯t exactly synonymous with a heart-thumping thrill. ¡°So how do the former nobility fit into all of that?¡± I allowed myself one question anyway; they had been the catalyst for the aside, after all. ¡°The simple answer is that they no longer exist. There is more to it, of course, but I am not the most suited to teaching you about it.¡± My disappointment at the words must have shown on my face, because she was quick to continue. ¡°No need to pout, I was not finished, you see? Many of the old nobility kept their positions, albeit under different titles. It was not the case for all, but many maintained enough wealth and influence, even after the changes in The Capital, to carve out a place for themselves.¡± A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. ¡°And what about the thing with their kids?¡± Tina made a show of playfully swatting her forehead. ¡°Right, I had almost forgotten,¡± she teased. I was momentarily tempted to compare her to Lionel in jest but thought better of it. ¡°Traditionally, families would send their children into each other¡¯s care for years at a time. As to why¡­¡± ¡°Complicated?¡± ¡°Complicated. Regardless, many well-off families have adopted the practice today - some more than others. There is a certain prestige that comes with being an effective host. Reputation is a form of currency all its own, you see?¡± ¡°I think so.¡± It was an answer that erred on the side of modesty, since the concept wasn¡¯t alien to me to begin with. ¡°Thanks for trying to cheer me up, mom.¡± I leaned in for another hug and told myself it was for her more than it was for me. She squeezed me tight until the moment was interrupted by the burbling cries of a recently roused baby. ¡°I need to tend to your brother but then all three of us can go to the kennel, okay?¡± Tina sounded cheerful, and I couldn¡¯t tell how much of it was put on for my benefit. ¡°Sounds good. Also¡­¡± ¡°Tomorrow your father will be taking care of Marco. You and I are going to spend the day together.¡± The smug undertones I heard in her voice were definitely authentic; she knew exactly what I was going to ask. Hopefully Tina could help me with some of my Taming concerns; recently I¡¯d felt like I was banging my head against a conceptual wall. A well of excited energy began to bubble inside of me. ¡°Perfect. I cannot wait.¡± Chapter 61 ¡°Can a Skill be altered or removed? The short answer is yes to the former and no to the latter. Skill Evolution is a well documented phenomenon, though it is perhaps not entirely what some people have in mind when they inquire into the possibility of altering their Skills. A poor Advancement choice can be regretful, after all. There are few who research the concept, and fewer still who do so ethically.¡± ~Unknown Tina kept her promise and we spent the whole next day together. Fudge could sense my nervous excitement through the Tamer Bond, and he was practically bouncing alongside me as I helped work through the morning chores. Shoveling dog turds in spades was never my favorite pastime, but the prospect of planning the next steps of my Advancement with Tina made the task feel marginally less soul-crushing than usual. Acting in accordance with my will, mana began to flow from my Skills and suffuse my body. No specific instruction or purpose guided it, I just wanted to feel the way it ebbed and flowed. The endeavor remained an exercise in frustration without the Mana Sense Skill, but I was determined to make progress. That meant practice. A lot of practice. With each breath, I felt a warmth in my torso. Recovery and Perseverance mana moved to help me catch my breath. Perseverance mana helped me focus despite the antics of my bonded companion which promised endless distraction should I entertain them. When my morning muscles began to ache, Recovery mana rushed to soothe them and- Oh, that¡¯s interesting. Mana from Taming [Fudge] was working in concert with Recovery. The ratio still skewed heavily towards the latter, but even so, I¡¯d never noticed it doing that before. The mana felt like a tingle of electricity, zipping from place to place like- Like Fudge is doing. I paused mid-step and turned to study the dog in question, whose charcoal fur looked especially prismatic beneath the morning sun. He was on his back in the dirt, gruffling and harumphing while he thrashed around in play. A few of the other dogs were watching and hesitantly deciding if they wanted to join in; since Fudge¡¯s Advancement they¡¯d started showing him the deference usually reserved for Vigil. Was it possible that Taming [Fudge] could help bring me in line with his behavior? Since Fudge was so full of energy, keeping my own muscles free of fatigue would be compatible with that line of reasoning. If that was the case, then perhaps it could be pushed even further when the Skill was at a higher Tier. Like some type of totemic symbol¡­ I urged the Skill onwards, straining to catch any other ways the mana might behave. Some type of bug or breeze must have tickled the spot behind my ear so I began idly scratching it while I mused the possibilities. Maybe that¡¯s the way Taming can be used to borrow Skills like Tina did. If I can justify an action as being Dog-like - Fudge-like, rather - then maybe¡­ The itch was insistent enough to distract me from my mana, so I picked up the pace. As I continued to scratch, my fingertip left my scalp with each vigorous passing so I switched to a horizontal motion incorporating my whole hand. I grumbled in satisfaction as I finally hit the spot just right and- Tina¡¯s giggle snapped me out of my thoughts and I turned to see her covering her mouth with one hand as she stood watching me. ¡°You looked just like Fudge while doing that,¡± she teased. I looked and sure enough Fudge was using one of his back legs to scratch behind his ear in the yoga-esque pose dogs were able to achieve. That hadn¡¯t been my intent at all¡­ The thought brought a frown to my face, so I redoubled my focus and tried to gain a sense of my mana reserves. Not all of the mana there was my own. A faint wisp was trickling through the Tamer Bond, drawn in by Taming [Fudge] and intermingling with Recovery. To say it was trickling in doesn¡¯t quite do the sensation justice; the nature of our Tamer Bond made concepts of distance largely irrelevant. It was simply the way my mind translated the information, a subconscious visualization. Some ephemeral insight, like an instinct, made me certain it had come from Fudge¡¯s Dog Skill. I knew it had since turned into the Fudge Skill, but saying ¡®Fudge¡¯s Fudge Skill¡¯ felt strange on the tongue, even when confined to one¡¯s internal monologue. I briefly considered keeping the information to myself, concerned that Tina might use it as justification to postpone my lessons. That temptation was immediately crushed beneath memories of the fueha attack. Tina¡¯s behavior in the immediate aftermath was borderline feral, and though it might have been tenuous, I couldn¡¯t help but draw a comparison. Perseverance and Recovery pulsed as the memories of tragedy and violence set my heart to racing. Despite the passage of time, reliving the fear and helplessness of that day was enough to turn my blood to ice. It was a powerful motivator. I never wanted to feel that way again. ¡°That was not my intention, mom,¡± I said seriously. ¡°I was experimenting with my mana and starting scratching like that without realizing it.¡± Immediately, the mirth evaporated from Tina¡¯s expression. ¡°Explain.¡± It was not a request. In my peripherals, a few of the dogs took cautious steps away from us, reacting to the intensity in Tina¡¯s voice. I endeavored to relay the events without bias, almost mechanically listing off what I did, why I did it, and what I¡¯d been able to decipher on my own. By the time I¡¯d finished, I recognized the unfortunately familiar look of exasperation that had settled over my mother¡¯s features. ¡°I have underestimated the changes to your Taming Skill,¡± Tina said apologetically. She punctuated the point with a dramatic groan. ¡°I did not think you would be capable of mana-sharing yet. It is typically not possible until the Skill has Advanced at least twice, understand?¡± ¡°I-¡± ¡°And that is already accounting for specialized variants of Taming,¡± she blurted out as an afterthought. Even Fudge had been cowed by the emotion on her voice, and I watched him lay flush to the ground with his ears flat.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. CONCERN. She is just stressed out, buddy. You are not in trouble. I tried to attach reassurance to the thoughts as I sent them through the Tamer Bond. Almost immediately I felt Fudge relax a little bit, but he still watched Tina warily. She¡¯d started pacing. ¡°Well, since I apparently can do it, what now?¡± Vague reassurances like ¡®it is okay¡¯ or ¡®you could not have known¡¯ crossed my tongue but I did not voice them. Given recent developments, consoling my mother in that moment felt like the wrong move. Best to play it cool and move on, I told myself, though it¡¯d be a lie to say I was confident in the choice. ¡°Now?¡± Tina paused mid-stride and furrowed her brows in concentration. ¡°Now, I make you promise me not to ever do that without adult supervision - ideally my supervision.¡± ¡°That sounds reasonable,¡± I quickly agreed. ¡°Why, though? What exactly is your concern?¡± I tried to move the conversation towards a solution and explanation. ¡°Is it because of what happened when you fought with Vigil?¡± A blunt approach? Absolutely, but I was not devoid of concern and wanted answers. ¡°Ah, so you remember that? Of course you would, that was silly of me to ask.¡± Putting a damper on Tina¡¯s manic energy with shame was not what I had in mind, but the sag of her shoulders suggested I¡¯d done just that. ¡°You are correct, of course, my Will.¡± She placed her hands against her temples and groaned again. ¡°I had not thought I would need to teach you about this yet.¡± ¡°If it makes you feel better, I was going to ask that you start teaching me more stuff anyway, just in case¡­¡± I trailed off as Tina¡¯s scowl made me want to wilt. ¡°No. That does not make me feel better.¡± A reluctant sigh escaped her lips. ¡°That is not because I do not agree, though.¡± Tina forced a small smile onto her face. ¡°You will probably have other teachers after me, though, so we need not rush too much.¡± ¡°Even for Taming?¡± ¡°Even for Taming. They probably will not have it as their Core Skill, as I do, but I will make sure Lionel takes care of the arrangements.¡± The dangerous glint in her eyes made me irrationally fear for the goofy Slayer¡¯s wellbeing. ¡°I would wager they have at least one person with the Skill in their organization already,¡± she added with a small shrug. ¡°That does not answer my question,¡± I quipped. ¡°It does not. I was getting to that. Sit.¡± Tina pointed at the ground and I heard the scuffle of dozens of dogs as they scrambled to follow the accidental command. ¡°Oops, sorry,¡± she muttered. ¡°Please, do not be,¡± I said between chuckles. ¡°It brightened the mood.¡± I plonked myself on the ground and gave Tina my full attention. ¡°Okay, I am ready.¡± Before she started speaking, Tina looked towards the house and let loose a sharp whistle. ¡°I will need Vigil to help me demonstrate something, but in the meantime¡­¡± She cupped her chin with one hand and took a moment to consider her words. ¡°At lower Tiers, Taming typically serves as a way for someone to gain a better sense of their bonded companion and-¡± As if catching herself in a falsehood, she quickly paused and amended the statement. ¡°This is a very broad generalization, you see? Your Skill allows you to push past many of the usual limits; someone at a high enough Tier of personal Advancement could brute force the issue with excess mana; you get the idea, yes?¡± I just nodded, not wanting to interrupt just yet. ¡°As Taming Advances, the Tamer Bond allows more and more through it, including mana. With mana, comes the ability to touch upon your bonded companion¡¯s Skills. Sounds useful, you see?¡± Behind me, I heard the hurried footfalls of Vigil¡¯s massive form as he leapt into the kennel. Within moments, he came into view and sidled up next to Tina. ¡°Ah, Vigil, perfect timing.¡± I¡¯d inferred much of this already, but it is good to get confirmation, I thought as I watched Tina give Vigil a pat on the head. The praise was enough to set his tail to wagging. It was time to ask the obvious question. ¡°If Taming is so useful, why does not everyone pick up the Skill?¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± Tina looked proud as she rounded on me with a grin. ¡°Taming is one of the best Skills around, so it makes sense that everyone would choose it.¡± I took the statement with a grain of salt, confident that her bias was showing. Frankly, I felt the same way but I figured anyone who¡¯d experienced the Tamer Bond would. Tina deflated slightly as her excitement was smothered by the harsher realities of the world. ¡°For some, it is a matter of synergy. Why choose Taming instead of a Skill that more overtly fits with your Core Skill and build?¡± She looked at me and allowed herself a good natured smirk in defiance of the emotional slump. ¡°Remember, my Will, not everyone has a Universal Core.¡± I chuckled, accepting the jab for what it was. Nearby, Fudge grumbled, as if scolding Tina on my behalf. Fucking adorable. ¡°For most, it is because of the Beast High.¡± I watched as Tina took a deep breath and held one of her hands out. ¡°Remember when you asked us how to use one of your Skills to benefit another person? You want to eventually learn how to push your Recovery Skill into someone else to help Jusep, right?¡± The specifics of those techniques were still being kept from me, and given the context in which they were being brought up I was doubly glad I¡¯d taken Lionel¡¯s advice and not tried to experiment on my own. ¡°I remember.¡± I almost gulped out the answer. ¡°When you learn to do this, the mana and Skill remain yours; you will just be carefully directing them from within someone else.¡± As she spoke, I watched a strip of her hair gradually take on a metallic sheen. Like paper dipped into a puddle of water, silvery tones began to bleed into her usually brunette locks as she duplicated a fraction of the magic I¡¯d witnessed all those years ago. If she ever practices this, it¡¯s never where I can see, I noted, suddenly curious as to how much mana-sharing fit into Tina¡¯s Advancement plan. ¡°When we accept mana through the Tamer Bond, it becomes a part of us.¡± Like a serpent, the stained portion of her hair began to weave itself together and coil down Tina¡¯s outstretched arm, growing beyond its usual length in the process. ¡°Animals have a different relationship with their Skills than we do, and because of that there is an issue of compatibility. It is only through the Taming Skill that we can safely use the mana at all, and I use the word ¡®safely¡¯ loosely here, you see?¡± When the hair reached her palm, it morphed into a jagged spike. ¡°To draw too deeply of bestial mana is to invite bestial behaviour.¡± The words came from Tina¡¯s mouth, but they didn¡¯t sound like hers, more like she was parroting something she¡¯d heard once before. ¡°There are horror stories of Tamers who have gone completely feral, overwhelmed by the mana of their bonded companion, which is why it is important you learn how to protect yourself.¡± When she stared at me, I noticed her eye closest to the altered hair was speckled with shards of silver intruding upon the green. ¡°Will you teach me?¡± At the question, Tina scoffed and I watched as the changes she¡¯d invoked quickly reversed themselves. Compared to when she¡¯d drawn on the full force of Vigil¡¯s mana, she made it look effortless. ¡°My Will, you have no choice in this particular matter. Yes, you will learn how to bolster your sense of self. In this, it is my hope that Perseverance will be a great boon. It is one of the few reasons your father and I were so supportive of your desire to acquire Taming to begin with.¡± Not entirely effortless, then, I realized. It was not often Tina directed such sharp words at me. Not that I minded at that moment; I completely agreed with her sentiment. ¡°Can we start right now?¡± As the last of the silver faded from Tina¡¯s eyes, it did little to erase the lingering intensity they held within. ¡°Definitely.¡± Chapter 62 ¡°When one considers the seemingly endless possible Specializations that could feasibly be attributed to a Skill, most would conclude that Core Skills - at least those we have on record - seldom stray into the absurd. There are exceptions, of course, like the infamous case of Shaving [Body Hair, Left Shin], but such examples are the exceptions that prove the rule; much more likely you will see someone with Smithing [Copper] or somesuch. It is one of the many quirks of The System we still do not have a definitive explanation for.¡± ~Unknown Much to my pleasant surprise, Tina had long been pondering the question of how to utilize Perseverance in conjunction with Taming techniques, particularly those designed to mitigate the Beast High. Her exasperation stemmed not from unpreparedness, but the unexpected timeframe; putting her ideas into practice had become an unfortunate necessity well ahead of whatever schedule she¡¯d envisioned. It was a touching revelation, one that highlighted the contrast in our respective priorities. Seldom did I consider ways to help my parents with their Advancement. When it came to matters of Skills and The System, what mattered most was my own progress; even then, with all the freedoms afforded to me by my relative youth, I often felt like there weren¡¯t enough hours in the day. Tina was burdened by adult responsibilities, the pressures of raising children, her own Advancement and a laundry list of other circumstances that sucked up the seconds like an enthusiastic sponge. Despite that, she put time aside to give me what were - in her mind - the best odds of success. Tina¡¯s actions were another stark reminder of my good fortune, relatively speaking. Untimely death in my first life notwithstanding, having Tina and Tulos as parents in my second was a blessing. My exposure to the broader echelons of my new world might have been limited, but I had no doubt the darker sides of humanity had carved out their dens, lairs and corrupted havens. I could have just as easily been born into one of them. Selfish. It was a fitting adjective for my mindset, one difficult to refute or refuse, but neither did I regret its suitability. I often made selfish choices or acted in selfish ways; I was a selfish man chasing the impossible. I wish I could say I¡¯d made peace with it, but the stabs of guilt I often felt seemed to suggest otherwise. Regardless, such musings were not the focus of my day with Tina; I¡¯d have a whole lifetime to turn my doubts into regrets and invalidate my earlier convictions. In that, I could pace myself. Specifics techniques aside, Tina and I spent the majority of our time together brainstorming how Perseverance would tie into my management of mana-sharing, should the need arise, and - ideally - stave off symptoms of the Beast High. There was a simplicity to Tina¡¯s theory on the matter, but in that simplicity lay a solidity devoid of delicate components or fracture points. When discussing ways in which to bolster one¡¯s sense of self, I saw the appeal of that approach and decided I would have eventually reached a similar conclusion. To summarize: the essence of who I was could be battered, beaten, boiled or blasted into a billion shards then a billion more; shaved, shredded or shoved into the acidic anus of an angry alligator, it mattered not. When the dust settled, when the fat lady sang, and when that electronics store down the street finally finished its decade-long ¡®going out of business¡¯ sale and closed its doors for the last time, everything that was ¡®me¡¯ would still remain. I would Persevere. Easier said than done, of course, since dramatic declarations dipped in hyperbole could come easy if one were so inclined. What mattered most was turning that vague notion into a core belief, a touchstone to conjure when faced with turmoil or strife. Anchored to Perseverance, the strongest source of mana available to me, it would have the potential to overpower any influences to the contrary. That was the idea, at least. Naturally, Tina phrased it differently at the time, but I felt my interpretation hit most of the same notes. Intent is important. Despite the positive impact my mantra had on the development of my Skills, it painted doubts in a poisonous light, so I endeavored to address them as a matter of course. When The System recognized that proficiency in a Skill was developing, the coveted prize it bestowed were the ever-ephemeral proficiency points. The means by which it judged, measured or even observed the necessary criteria existed beyond the realms of my comprehension, nor did Tina have any reliable knowledge on the subject. For most, The System simply was. Now that Taming [Fudge] had Advanced, The System refused to acknowledge my efforts with the Skill. Day after day, the display in the System windows I conjured remained stagnant.
Taming [Fudge] Level 10/10
Granted, implementing Perseverance into the exercises would net me much-needed proficiency points in my Core Skill, but the question remained; why bother practicing a Skill that had already reached the threshold of its current Advancement? Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. For weeks, I¡¯d been struggling to manage the overflow of ¡®connection¡¯ through the Tamer Bond. Part of me wanted to attribute that lack of progress to the metaphysical wall imposed by the cap on my Skills¡¯ proficiency points. If that were the case, then concentrated efforts to manage my use of the mana-sharing or similarly new applications of the Taming Skill were doomed to be seized by stagnation, mired down in a mosquito-infested bog. Except, I had improved. Despite relying on my other Skills to prop up my efforts, my understanding of the modified Tamer Bond between Fudge and I had undoubtedly deepened, albeit marginally. A contradiction existed, and while my conversations with Lionel and experiences with Mana Sense brought to mind hypothetical explanations, they were merely conjecture. When given the opportunity to seek focused guidance on the issue, I did not hesitate. As had become somewhat of a pattern, Tina¡¯s explanation - prefaced with an acknowledgement that she was by no means an expert on the subject - only raised more questions. In many ways, it came down to a comparison between Skills, with a capital ¡®s,¡¯ and skills. While the latter were somewhat self-explanatory, the former were what a person used to shape their Advancement and progress through the System. Skills nestle within the core of a person¡¯s being, becoming ingrained in ways that touch upon the spiritual. There was a permanence to that, an influencing factor that I suspected people came to terms with in myriad ways. Compared to the man I was without Perseverance, the ease with which I could dedicate myself to a task was like comparing night and day, such was the contrast. That flash of insight - of supernatural aptitude - was one of the defining characteristics of Skills bestowed by The System when compared to their more mundane counterparts. So far as Tina was aware, proficiency points would not atrophy, but once a Skill was at its threshold any supernatural guidance practically evaporated. That was all well and good, but it didn¡¯t explain how I so easily identified Fudge¡¯s mana as it trickled into my mana pathways; it was hard to describe that sensation as anything other than a ¡®flash of magical insight¡¯. Was it a case of evolved Skills like Taming [Fudge] being an exception? Could hyper-specialization explain it? The new Skill Augmentation? A combination of all three? Or none of the above? Was it somehow a matter of Fudge subconsciously communicating it to me? Given that I hadn¡¯t received similar feelings regarding matters of the Tamer Bond, there was no obvious pattern that I could discern. It was a tangled bramble of unknowns, and I lacked the time to navigate it given my other priorities; that way madness not just lay, but lounged on a bright purple chaise while idly smearing peanut butter on three of its seventeen belly buttons. Ultimately, I had to conclude that The System would not recognise my efforts in Taming until I Advanced to the next Tier; every scrap of progress in the Skill would be hard won, and that difficulty would only continue to spike as my Skills reached higher levels. So, again, why bother? Logically, one should push a Skill to the side - only using it when absolutely necessary - once it reaches its threshold for that Tier. That is, of course, assuming one wanted to maximize their rate of Advancement. I¡¯d gotten so caught up in the puzzle of it all that, when I raised that point to my mother, it took me a hot moment to realize why the question inspired an expression that edged into pity and bordered on tragic. ¡°Because there is more to life than Advancement.¡± Simple words. Obvious words. They reignited the realization I¡¯d had when I witnessed Myra casually detonate the local foliage with a literal rock she¡¯d scooped out of the dirt. Most people didn¡¯t spend all their time obsessing over the magical blue screens that lurked in a layer beneath reality. They would always be a factor, of course, in the same way people worried about their careers or social lives or education, but The System wasn¡¯t the be-all-end-all. Having come from a world without it, I still struggled to wrap my head around the notion. Though broadly speaking, I could empathize with it. Even in a System-less world, sometimes life could get in the way of the optimal path. Perhaps the immediate stability of a job would be chosen over an uncertain dream; a misguided romance, so pure in the moment, might inspire one to start fresh in a new city; the wants of society were often given preference over the hopeful, fragile needs of the soul. Instead of fighting for it, we¡¯d compromise. People were the ocean cliffside, and with every eroding wave we¡¯d recognize ourselves less and less. The world might have been different, but there was much that stayed the same. For most people, that was life. That was my life, before the fucked-up cocktail of grief, denial and hope I still hadn¡¯t properly acknowledged gave me the motivation, the drive, I needed to drag myself, bloody and battered, beyond the comfortable domain of ¡®good enough¡¯. Depressing, really, to wonder how many people we praised for greatness were similarly fuelled by tragedy. I would not lose myself to the tides. I would burn myself in the furnace. Selfish desire took hold in the days, weeks, and eventually months following that conversation with Tina. Surely, if I worked hard enough, I could compensate for the necessities life thrust upon me. The days began to blur together, my increasingly rigid routine broken only by the occasional whims of my parents and the - more frequent - pleading eyes of a mischievous, charcoal dog whom I found it increasingly impossible to disappoint. Perseverance maintained its jumps in progress under the weight of my mana-bolstered discipline. Recovery was creeping towards the bottleneck as I increased the demands on my body and relied on the Skill to compensate. My progress with Taming, by comparison, was glacial. The Bond remained distracting, and the exercises with Tina had run into a conceptual hiccup I hadn¡¯t been able to kick. Who am I? In hindsight, it should have been obvious. When one feels torn between two lives it can make defining the self a challenging prospect. Facing my demons in solitude had been an endeavor rooted in circular logic and uncertainty. When one can only talk to themselves, it does not do well to feel like you are conversing with a stranger. Interlude: Rosita and Lionel ¡°Never, under any circumstances, should one accept a meal prepared by someone with a Cooking Skill above the second Tier. It will ruin you; regular food tastes bland by comparison, worse even, like ash gathered from the armpit of a filth-infested rodent.¡± ~Unknown Rosita Luxury. A word with meaning rooted firmly in the subjective. Surely, one could not be condemned for taking ridicule in the mere concept, for what were words if not ways to convey an idea? Such blatant ambiguity was unnecessary; uncertainty was a disease, a rot to be removed. Luxury. To indulge, especially publicly, was to reveal yourself - to expose a weakness. While a common laborer might find luxury in a pair of comfortable shoes, they seldom crow as such. They cared not for such things, not really. It was kept private, where words were seldom necessary to begin with. They had work to do. They always had work to do. No, luxury was the domain of petty politicians, though even they wormed their way into common affairs as neighbors played at the significance they wished they possessed. It was a way to flaunt one''s status, though even in this they were riddled with deceit. They exaggerated. They put on airs. Truly, there was no need for luxury. Piercing shrieks pulled Rosita from idle thought, if only because they were no longer the primal wails of one clinging desperately to their mutilated conviction. No, what drew her attention was the pained string of numbers her subject sobbed through ragged breaths. Professionalism dictated Rosita review her administrations. The shallow cuts carved into the subject¡¯s torso were enough to summon a scowl. I barely touched you¡­ What was worse, the scowl was responsible for the increasingly deep wrinkles etched into Rosita¡¯s forehead, undeniable proof that her mana could no longer keep time at bay. It was vexing. The room was dimly lit by a single candle, one that was, by design, always in view of Rosita¡¯s subject. She recognized it as one of her slow burners. Time. An adversary, to be sure, but one she had manipulated to her own ends on countless occasions. Beneath the flickering light, hours could pass and not a single drop of wax would drip down the candle¡¯s length. If anyone could last that long, I suspect the sight would torment them. Perhaps it was wishful thinking that inspired Rosita to reach for that particular set of candles; they were expensive and for good reason. Irony had played a cruel hand indeed; by the time she could afford expanding her collection of tools, seldom did she need them. A spell-scripted lockbox rested on the small stand next to Rosita¡¯s worktable. With her free hand, she deftly input the number sequence upon the correct surface, for several were decoys, and was rewarded by the telltale click of the hidden locking mechanism. It was almost a shame. Rosita drummed the fingers of her gauntleted hand against the worktable, eliciting a whimper from her still-sobbing subject. A small blade extended from each fingertip of the tool, like the twisted imitation of a fingernail or talon. They were not the source of the noise, though, for they stabbed into the wood without the slightest hint of resistance. ¡°A pity, but it seems we are done for today.¡± How the subject reacted to that news was beneath Rosita¡¯s notice. They had served their purpose, albeit disappointingly. She did not need to call upon The System to know the underwhelming outcome of her efforts. With practiced movements, she loosened the straps fastening the gauntlet to her forearm and let it clatter onto a nearby tray alongside a selection of other tools, most of which she¡¯d commissioned herself. There was only a single exit, a doorway filled with an unnatural darkness. It was black in its purest sense, like an unsettling panel of nothing. Rosita did not hesitate to walk through it; unlike light, sound and myriad other things, the dense spellscript concealed in the surrounding woodwork did not block her passage. Beyond was a short, slightly curved hall topped with a similarly scripted doorway, except it featured a physical door to keep out prying eyes; there were times when subtlety trumped pure efficiency. It opened to Rosita¡¯s touch like it would for scarce few others, allowing her to step easily into her office. It was an inherited space, for there was a predecessor to the position it represented. Rosita left much of the decor untouched since her arrival. Fine silks, rare bottles of wine, and a cabinet containing Skill-crafted oddities were but a few of the extravagant pieces cluttering the room. Luxury. A farce. A performance for any who she was required to meet with. The space was not a reflection of her, and she liked it better that way. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. The cushion residing on Rosita¡¯s desk chair was, perhaps, one of the few notable exceptions. When pouring through paperwork, she did not deny herself the small comfort it provided. A stack of reports on the desk demanded her attention, compiled and summarized by those with the Skills necessary to parse through the local governance. Two of the reports were marked as urgent, so they were easily ignored; their contents would be fabricated. A largely precautionary counter-intelligence tactic, but also a coded message. Hidden amongst the reports would be something her people believed worth Rosita¡¯s immediate attention. After the disappointment that was her most recent subject, it was difficult to feel much anticipation over the fact. The balcony called to her, so Rosita scooped up the relevant reports to read outside. Potted plants dotted the outdoor space, and it gave her ample view of busy thoroughfare below. She occupied the Third Seat, for she represented the interests of law enforcement in all matters related to the Crown. An office with a view was one of the many perks granted by her position. One might even go so far as to call it luxury. The invasive thought threatened another scowl, but Rosita kept her annoyance in check. To simply know the word, to know of luxury, was to be infected by the concept. Normally, such errant thoughts would be quickly dismissed or seldom have the chance to worm their way into Rosita¡¯s mind. Their frequency had been increasing over recent years, and it was easy to understand why. She was bored. Those with the mettle to withstand Rosita¡¯s attention seldom found themselves at her mercy; it was not the strong of will who volunteered in exchange for a reduced sentence. The limbs of her Skill Tree were riddled with thorns, and her dependence on others to Advance was proving to be one of them. Most of the reports were to be expected, detailing the comings and goings of watched people and places. Purging the city of criminal activity was not an option, but that did not mean letting it go unsupervised. ¡°Perhaps I should incite a gang conflict¡­¡± It had been some time since the city¡¯s law enforcement were tested, and, unlike Rosita, most of them could still benefit from the experience. The chatter of the streets and clamor of the city set a pleasant backdrop as Rosita flipped through the pages and scanned their contents, all the while contemplating unleashing violence upon them with the same casual consideration one might give their evening meal. It was a shame, really, that Rosita could not take a more active hand in the cultivation of a rival. Doing so would cross a line; there was a difference between monitoring the criminal element and directly aiding it. There were some principles that could not be so easily warped by stagnation. Still, the fact that she¡¯d entertained the possibility - felt its temptation for even a moment - was telling. There was one report towards the bottom of the stack that differentiated itself. Seldom were matters from outside the city brought to her attention, with a few notable exceptions. ¡°Elbura¡­¡± she muttered the village name as her eyes darted across the page. The initial message was brief; someone had reported a girl with a social-adjacent Core Skill. Perception [Social, Truth] would make her the bane of the upper crust. No doubt Crown factions were already scrambling to send representatives or lay a claim. They would under normal circumstances, at least. In verifying the report, some clerk stumbled upon the Skill registry for the town. A calculating smirk touched Rosita¡¯s lips, growing sharper the more she read. Quickly, she retreated into her office and began making the necessary preparations to attend to the matter personally. For the first time in a long while, she felt the thrill of potential as the seeds of an idea lay root in her mind. There was more than one prize in Elbura, and Rosita had decided she wanted them both. Lionel It was not often someone stormed into Lionel¡¯s office unannounced. He recognized the culprit as one of his communications officers, and there were few situations in which they would be so brazen despite the Slayer Lieutenant¡¯s occasionally lax attitude towards protocol. Immediately, Lionel felt his muscles tense; visions of destroyed towns and rampaging Beasts and a dozen other awful possibilities flashed through his mind. Had one of his Slayers died in the field? ¡°Sir, pardon the interruption I-¡± ¡°You are forgiven. Give the report.¡± There was no time for niceties or nonsense. ¡°Yes, sir. It concerns the personal matter you asked us to monitor.¡± Lionel felt his blood turn to ice at the statement. ¡°There has been a dispatch to Elbura.¡± ¡°Right¡­ thank you, you are excused.¡± The officer gave a quick nod before retreating. Lionel had given specific instructions regarding informing him of any news involving Tulos¡¯ little village, so there was no need to address the interruption. His information network was not as expansive as most, but he had enough friends in The Capital to get by. He slumped in his chair and took a moment to process the sudden shift in circumstances. ¡°Well¡­ shit.¡± Chapter 63 ¡°The allure of longevity is one of the primary motivating factors for those who pursue Advancement. Every Tier brings with it an increased lifespan, but so too does it bring increasingly high demands to reach even greater heights in The System. Many argue that a long life spent Advancing is not necessarily more valuable than a shorter life spent living. I do not necessarily agree, but it is certainly an argument.¡± ~Unknown As was often the case, the world refused to cease functioning to accommodate my ongoing identity crisis. It had been almost a decade since I was reborn as Will - Will Duscall, if one were so inclined to add my seldom needed surname. The myriad tethers to the life I once lived had grown frayed and faded beneath the weight of time. Of those that remained, one was a steel cable I refused to leave unattended, and I often wondered how it would handle the ever increasing strain. ¡°Will. Listen. Did you know that sometimes I get annoyed with my papa?¡± Bella had been describing a particularly hairy caterpillar she¡¯d seen yesterday mere moments before the sudden shift in topic. In her mind, conversations need not follow a logical throughpoint. ¡°Is that so?¡± I humored her ramblings. Everyone had their problems, a collection of worries or grievances that distracted them from the day. Little girls were no exception, and I knew that in her mind Bella¡¯s troubles would seem just as serious as my own. ¡°Yes!¡± She dramatically outstretched her arms to punctuate the point and flailed backwards onto the grass. After the regularly scheduled, child-friendly training session, Tulos and Figuello always gave us some free time to talk or play or do whatever we wanted, really. ¡°Remember the secret I told you?¡± Probably. ¡°I might, but I cannot say.¡± I leaned back, but unlike Bella, I caught my weight on my palms instead of letting myself sink entirely into the grass and invitingly cool soil it sat upon. I flexed my fingers a few times to luxuriate in the feel of it. Existentialism aside, I tried to enjoy the little things when I could. As much as I complained about Tina¡¯s mandated ¡®kid time¡¯ I could rationalize the wisdom in taking an occasional break. Bella shot back upright and leveled a suspicious squint in my direction. ¡°How come?¡± She¡¯s using her Skill, I realized. It was hard to explain exactly how I knew, but there was a slight change to Bella¡¯s demeanor when she was consciously drawing from her variation of Perception. Ineffable? No, too extreme. Ephemeral? Not quite, but close enough. It was the kind of subtle tell I¡¯d never notice without the borderline familial familiarity developed after practically growing up alongside someone. With a flourish, I adopted a smug expression and stared off into the middle distance. ¡°Because it is a secret.¡± A snort, a titter, and finally full blown giggles erupted out of Bella¡¯s mouth as her scrutiny shattered before my absurdity. ¡°That. Is. So. Silly!¡± She sputtered between bouts of laughter, the kind that often came so easily to children. Nearby, Fudge grumbled as if in agreement, though I mostly attributed that to my tendency to add human meaning to his actions. He¡¯d been taking a nap and Bella¡¯s outburst had evidently been enough to rouse him from whatever strange dreams occupied a quantum canine¡¯s resting mind. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I am a silly sheep,¡± I sarcastically agreed, though my tone was good-natured. ¡°Really, though, do you remember?¡± She almost sounded concerned. It occurred to me that confiding in me was probably a big deal for her. It was a display of trust, and not taking it seriously could be hurtful; just because she was a child didn¡¯t change that fact. If anything, I had a responsibility to not taint the gesture. ¡°Of course I remember,¡± I said, pulling to mind the most overt secret she¡¯d shared with me in recent months. ¡°You said you were ready to Advance.¡± I¡¯d been wondering what became of that. I assumed when it happened Bella would tell me about her new Skills, but she¡¯d been uncharacteristically quiet on the subject. A wide smile spread across Bella¡¯s face, squishing her cheeks up against her eyes. ¡°Correct,¡± she chirped while nodding in confirmation. ¡°Papa said I have to wait for permission before I Advance because it might not be safe if I rush. He said that he and Mama would help me with it ¡®soon¡¯ but every time I ask they keep just saying ¡®soon¡¯ no matter how much I wait.¡± Her smile gradually morphed into a frustrated pout the more she spoke. ¡°It is not fair, and I can tell that Papa is not being entirely truthful with me.¡± I felt my mouth form a thin line as Bella spoke, since I could deduce what was happening. Figuello and Lianda had, perhaps sensibly, decided to try and convince Bella to wait until she was older before Advancing into the first Tier. I could understand the logic. Based on Marco¡¯s Core Skill, I suspected he¡¯d be well into his teen years before he Advanced and most children were probably in similar positions. The question now is what to say so I don¡¯t accidentally incite conflict between Bella and her parents. Considering Bella¡¯s Core Skill, I thought her parents had been a bit clumsy in their approach to the issue, but I also lacked context into their personal lives so decided not to pass judgment. ¡°Why are you in such a rush to Advance?¡± What I had hoped would be a useful question only won me a skeptical tilt of Bella¡¯s head. ¡°Because I want to¡­¡± Bella trailed off and scrunched up her face in momentary thought. ¡°That is not a good answer. That is an answer like ¡®soon¡¯ - I did not really tell you anything.¡± She grimaced at the realization. ¡°Can I have some time to think about it?¡± If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°Definitely,¡± I said with a chuckle. To give credit where credit was due, Bella had a capacity for self-reflection beyond her years. While I suspected her Core Skill was largely responsible, it felt odd- no, it felt wrong to reduce a little girl¡¯s personality that way. Skill or not, Bella was Bella. Still, when I was her age, my concerns typically revolved around what dinosaur could beat another dinosaur in a fight, I thought wryly. ¡°What do you think it is like?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± Bella¡¯s question caught me off guard. For a moment, I thought she might have said something else while my mind was distracted by thoughts of velociraptors and the childhood disappointment I felt when I learned they resembled turkeys more than their cinematic representations would lead someone to believe. ¡°Advancement,¡± Bella clarified. ¡°What do you think it is like?¡± I pinched the bridge of my nose as the girl I could not lie to asked me a question I could not, should not, answer truthfully. Yeah, that checks out. ¡°What do you think it is like?¡± I tried flipping the question back at her. ¡°Nope. I asked you first.¡± She poked her tongue out at me. ¡°That means you have to answer first.¡± ¡°Since when is that the rule?¡± I raised a dubious eyebrow. ¡°Since I said so.¡± Bella nodded with an air of self-satisfaction. ¡°That does not sound right to me,¡± I replied seriously. ¡°What if I want to make a rule?¡± ¡°Do you want to make a rule?¡± ¡°Can my rule be that you are not allowed to make rules?¡± ¡°No! That is cheating!¡± Bella scowled at me and I raised my hands placatingly. ¡°Okay, fair enough. So we need rules for making rules, then?¡± The whole affair lasted several more exchanges, but I was eventually able to lead Bella towards a different subject. Core Skill aside, she was still a child; I¡¯d gotten better at managing her when necessary, even though it was often an exercise in tedium. Right when I was about to ask a clarifying question regarding the type of hat that would best suit a sheep, I felt Fudge begin to stir through the Tamer Bond. CURIOSITY? The feeling wasn¡¯t quite curiosity, rather, I recognized it as the emotion Fudge felt when he smelled something interesting. With a huff and scramble, he pushed himself upright and stuck his snout into the air. ¡°Hold on a second, Bella. Fudge is doing something.¡± At the mention of one of her favorite dogs, Bella snapped her head around to watch him the same way I was. A low rumble sounded from the center of Fudge¡¯s mass that steadily turned into a growl. When it reached its peak, it transitioned smoothly into a loud bark, and within moments I heard an answering one come from the house. Fudge seemed to calm down slightly after Vigil¡¯s response, but he still moved to stand closer to Bella and I. ¡°Come on, Bella, we need to go back to the house. Someone is coming.¡± It wasn¡¯t one of our usual visitors. Fudge didn¡¯t raise the alarm like that for Bella¡¯s family. As we scurried back towards the house, we were intercepted by Figuello who¡¯d been supervising us from across the way. We were given space, but gone were the days Bella was left completely unsupervised. My parents were quick to join us; Marco was on my mother¡¯s hip and Vigil stood in her shadow. Both he and Fudge were looking intently towards the hill that led to the village. As we watched and exchanged quiet reassurances, a figure crested it, moving at a brisk jog that anyone in my old life would have considered a sprint. I had to strain my eyes, but I eventually recognized them thanks to the way the club tied to their belt flailed in the air as they ran. It was Rual, the not-technically-a-guardsman who watched over Hwan most days. My poor first impression of him aside, he was never overtly aggressive towards Tulos beyond the occasional snub on the rare occasions we crossed paths. I decided he was ultimately harmless, but that didn¡¯t change my overall opinion of the guy. He was still a dick. Having noticed us, Rual began to wave to get our attention and call out across the field. There was an urgency to the actions that spawned a pit in my stomach. ¡°Should we¡­¡± I trailed off when I saw no one was making a move to close the distance. ¡°No. If Rual has news, best he just says it once to all of us.¡± It was Figuello who responded, his mustache twitching slightly as he did so. When neither of my parents said anything to the contrary I decided to just let the adults take point, but I could feel the tension in the air. Bella wandered over and grabbed the hem of her father¡¯s shirt, taking comfort in the action. When Rual came to a stop in front of us, the faintest sign of exertion coloured his cheeks. ¡°Hwan sent me,¡± he said immediately, wasting no time on pleasantries. It was unclear who he was addressing. ¡°Some folks from The Capital rode in on one of their carriages - asked to look at Elbura¡¯s Skill registry.¡± At that, his eyes flicked downwards, first towards Bella, then at me. ¡°Guessin¡¯ one of your kids grabbed their attention. That is unfortunate.¡± The way he said it made me think he¡¯d come to that conclusion based on context clues as opposed to having prior knowledge of my Skill. That was the least of my concerns though, as Rual¡¯s words fell like a hammer. ¡°No¡­¡± Tina muttered, as if denying reality would make it go away. I could empathize. Figuello reached down to grab Bella¡¯s shoulder protectively, which confused me since he shouldn¡¯t have had anything to worry about. ¡°It is okay, Uncle Fig,¡± I said. ¡°They are here for me.¡± At that, Bella¡¯s father frowned and looked at me, then my parents, then back to me. ¡°What does he mean by that?¡± ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± It was Tulos who answered, and I could see the gears turning both their heads. ¡°Wait, so whose kid are they here to get?¡± Rual chimed in, seemingly not caring about the fragility of the moment. ¡°Mine.¡± ¡°Ours.¡± Tulos and Figuello spoke at the same time while Tina stepped forward to grab me with her free arm. At that moment, I got hit by a sudden realization, one that my self-absorbed ass should have made literal years beforehand. I¡¯d never bothered to tell Tina and Tulos about Bella¡¯s Core Skill. It had never come up in conversation and I just assumed they knew through talking to her parents. Except Bella¡¯s parents are under the impression I have a variation of the Trapping Skill. Fuck, I¡¯m an idiot. If not for the severity of the situation, I might have laughed. ¡°Bella¡¯s Skill is a desirable one as well,¡± I said. Of course it was. Chapter 64 ¡°I would like to remind everyone that I will be taking a leave of absence. I encourage you to do the same. The day I decide to content myself with written accounts and forsake the outside world is the day one of you should probably put me out of my misery. I recommend blunt force trauma through the medium of a large, leather-bound tome; the irony of it all would spice up the accounting, at the very least.¡± ~Unknown Oftentimes, we overlook the obvious until someone points it out. It is a contradiction rooted in anecdotes, but one prevalent enough to appreciate for its absurdity if little else. A beat of silence followed my announcement, providing the opportunity to watch realization dawn on the face of every adult present. Tulos¡¯ brow grew heavier, Tina¡¯s eyes widened, and Figuello contracted his facial muscles such that his mustache shimmied. Like me, they¡¯d been so absorbed in their own circumstances that the truth, until now, eluded them. Presumably, Rual visibly reacted as well, I just didn¡¯t care to note his appearance. Instead, I heard him, for it was Rual who delivered us from the increasingly pregnant pause. ¡°That is a mighty shame, that,¡± he remarked solemnly, as if offering condolences. ¡°Best I be on my way then. No sense lingering while you all deal with what needs dealing with.¡± He turned to leave, only to stop mid-step just long enough to speak over his shoulder. ¡°I should also probably check in on the old man - I doubt he will be able to delay them Crown folks for long.¡± Parting words given, Rual easily resumed his earlier jog and retreated the way he came. Dick though Rual may have been, I couldn¡¯t help but appreciate the warning. ¡°What is everyone talking about?¡± Bella chimed in before people could properly organize their thoughts. ¡°Am I in trouble?¡± She looked up at her father, whose furrowed brow betrayed his continued struggle with the situation. ¡°No one is in trouble,¡± Tina replied reassuringly, almost reflexively. ¡°You have done nothing wrong, Bella.¡± ¡°That¡­ does not sound right¡­¡± Bella trailed off and frowned, as if tasting Tina¡¯s words and finding them sour. ¡°You do think we are a little bit in trouble, Aunty Tina.¡± Her face scrunched up in frustration. ¡°Little Sunflower, remember what we talked about?¡± Figuello had finally found his voice and offered his daughter gentle admonishment. He flashed a reassuring smile, or rather, he tried to; even I could tell it was a brittle facsimile of the real thing as he turned to face my parents. ¡°I am sorry, but we should really head home so-¡± ¡°No, you should stay right here.¡± Tina cut Figuello off before he could get too attached to the notion. ¡°If we are going to plead our case, best to do so with a united front, see?¡± She, too, could barely conceal her growing distress. Already, one of her feet was bouncing to an increasingly rapid tempo. Frankly, I was amazed Marco had been able to sleep through it all. Little dude must really need the rest¡­ either that or Tina¡¯s fidgeting is effectively rocking him to sleep. My memories of infancy were shrouded in the fugue, and rightly so, but I remembered that simply existing was exhausting. At least he¡¯s not doing the baby-banshee thing. Figuello frowned at Tina¡¯s suggestion. ¡°You and I both know that will not change anything, and Lianda deserves to be part of this, she¡­ she¡­¡± Poor guy is on the verge. Gun to my head, if I had to say something about Figuello, it was that the man loved his daughter more than anything. In hindsight, his tendency to endlessly dote on Bella suddenly made a lot more sense; he always knew their quiet days together were limited. The realization added another armful of heavy stones tumbling into the growing pit that used to be my stomach. Tulos had been quiet for a time, as he was want to do. When he moved, it was to place a massive hand on Figuello¡¯s shoulder, practically holding up the man who stood on increasingly shaky legs. ¡°We understand.¡± Gravitas came easy to Tulos, though I doubted it was intentional; the bass tended to resonate in such a way that everything he said had a weight to it. Sometimes, mere gravitas was not enough, though. Without looking, Figuello reflexively moved to brush off Tulos¡¯ hand - and his words along with it. The muscles in Tulos¡¯ arm tensed, stretching the fabric of his shirt as it desperately clung to integrity. A half-step, a slight crouch; every ounce of Tulos¡¯ impressive mass seemed to anchor itself to the ground. Tulos was a mountain, and he refused to be moved.Stolen novel; please report. Since I was an infant, my parents knew that, some day, The Crown would come for me. That looming threat, the tragic inevitability of it all, loomed over our lives for years. Carry kind of burden leaves its mark, and I¡¯d seen the myriad small ways it impacted Tina and Tulos. Even then, I knew I didn¡¯t see everything. I just saw the cracks. The depths of their fears and concerns were not for me. Instead, they were reserved for their private moments, the brief windows they allowed themselves to be vulnerable so that their child might be shielded - if only briefly - from the unfairness of the world. The hurt. The hardship. Somehow, Tulos conveyed it all through his simple words and sincere actions. When Figuello craned his neck to challenge Tulos, something he saw in the larger man¡¯s gaze drained him of all defiance. It did not always take a Skill to see the truth in someone¡¯s expression. Nods were exchanged, and Tulos¡¯ free hand swung around to give a supportive clap on Figuello¡¯s shoulder. There was a simplicity to the exchange, really, but oftentimes it was in simplicity that we found significance. ¡°If we are to do this, we cannot leave Lianda out of it. It concerns Bella, so it is a matter of mothers and daughters.¡± Figuello straightened his posture, making his stance on the matter clear. ¡°Then we just need to get her here.¡± Like me, Tina had been patiently watching the pair of fathers. When I glanced her way, the briefest hint of a smile tugged at her lips despite the broader, more dire situation. I had my suspicions as to why. After so many months of shared supervision, it makes sense those two built up a solid rapport. ¡°Will we have time for that?¡± I was the one who asked the obvious question. ¡°It might be easier for us to go to her.¡± I normally took care to curate my words in front of company, but given the circumstances I dropped all pretense. Figuello raised an eyebrow thick enough to rival his mustache, but didn¡¯t otherwise comment. Given that I practically admitted to having a desirable Skill, I don¡¯t doubt he¡¯s come to a conclusion close enough to the truth. ¡°Without even taking into account how that might jostle Marco, we do not want to give the impression that we are running. Rual said they will be coming here, so here is where we need to be.¡± She leveled a deliberate stare at Figuello to punctuate the point. ¡°That does not answer the boy¡¯s first question,¡± he added stiffly, prompting a scowl from Tina. ¡°I was getting to that,¡± she replied through her teeth. Nearby, I heard Vigil growl low in his throat. I frowned. People were on-edge. Emotions were flaring and firing in all directions. It was a clusterfuck of problems and I didn¡¯t have an easy solution to any of them. It wasn¡¯t as if I was unaffected, either. Nerves chewed at me like a swarm of tiny piranhas; if anything, mentally assuming the role of ¡®the sensible one¡¯ was my lifeline in the veritable shitstorm we were facing down. I mean, fuck, what am I going to do, be that one dude who tells a room full of tense people to ¡®calm down?¡¯ Tina whistled, summoning Vigil to her side. ¡°We will send Vigil, see? It will not be the most comfortable ride, but-¡± Marco grumbled, the newest noise finally enough to stir him from his nap. That grumble quickly turned into a whine before steadily escalating into a full-blown wail that demanded everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°Here. Love. Let me.¡± Tulos was quick to respond and scoop Marco into his arms, the growing baby still looking positively tiny compared to his father. As the pair retreated to the house, they took the cacophony with them. ¡°Apologies,¡± Tina muttered politely but Figuello waved the words away, deeming them unnecessary. ¡°I will try not to waste more time. We send Vigil; Lianda rides him back; she is here. Okay?¡± Tina listed off each point with her fingers. Without Marco occupying one of her arms, she was free to resume her usual level of gesticulation. I¡¯d once likened Vigil to an Irish Wolfhound that made Irish Wolfhounds look small. Tina wasn¡¯t exaggerating the validity of her plan. It wouldn¡¯t be comfortable, but an adult could almost certainly ride Vigil like a horse; well, less like a horse and more like a sporty motorcycle - hunched over and with their legs bent backwards. Someone Tulos¡¯ size might be a stretch, though. Figuello looked like he was about to object, but caught the words before they left his mouth. ¡°The more I argue the point, the less time we will have.¡± He leveled a stare at Tina, and spoke with an intensity I didn¡¯t know he was capable of. ¡°Do it, but know I am trusting you with everything in this, for Bella¡¯s sake. Do not break that trust.¡± Tina just nodded before closing her eyes. She rested her hand on Vigil¡¯s head and furrowed her brow in concentration. To what end, I could not say with any certainty, but when her eyes snapped open again Vigil exploded into motion. A cloud of debris scattered into the air and I had to rapidly blink to stop dirt and scraps of shredded grass from temporarily blinding me. By the time the dust settled, Vigil was already out of sight. ¡°He will not be long,¡± Tina said with utmost confidence. ¡°In the meantime, I think we are each owed a brief explanation, yes?¡± Figuello just nodded, but evidently not everyone was satisfied. ¡°I still do not understand what is going on,¡± Bella whined, shaking her arm that still clung to the hem of Figuello¡¯s shirt. ¡°Why does Will seem to understand? I am older than him!¡± She pouted, and I lamented that her ignorance was on the verge of being shattered. Hopefully her innocence fares better. I didn¡¯t like its chances. Chapter 65 ¡°The practice of selling the rights to one¡¯s Build is often contested, even though the potential benefits it could provide to academic fields cannot be denied. The dispute is a moral one, since there is not an accepted standard for the agreements and relevant pay structures. Even though one certainly can put a price on such an intimate part of a person¡¯s being, there are many who question whether we should.¡± -Unknown With promises of a forthcoming explanation, Bella settled down enough to let Tina and Figuello escape contemplation with conversation. Figuello revealed the details of Bella¡¯s Core Skill. Tina shared the details of mine. Hwan had apparently known about Bella and I both, and the fact that he¡¯d kept that a secret did much to improve my impression of the man; he knew how to keep something on the hush-hush. ¡°Apparently Perseverance helped me mature faster than normal,¡± I noted to Figuello when the revelation of my Core Skill prompted him to look at me as if I¡¯d sprouted a diamond-encrusted horn. In all fairness, Tina had a similar reaction when Bella¡¯s Perception [Social, Truth] Skill came to light. I wonder if she¡¯s replaying every lie she¡¯s ever told Bella. It was an amusing thought in a situation that was otherwise devoid of that particular emotion. Tulos rejoined us after Marco¡¯s needs had been seen to; presumably he¡¯d gone back to sleep and was cozy in his crib. I noticed Bella looking increasingly smug as yet another person was amazed by her Core Skill. ¡°The System also said I am ready to Advance,¡± she said, practically preening. ¡°Bella!¡± Figuello chastised his daughter, who had gotten so absorbed in the moment she¡¯d forgotten that information was supposed to be a secret. Bella¡¯s mouth rounded like that of a startled fish before she clasped her hands over it, as if doing so might prevent the words from having escaped in the first place. ¡°It is fine,¡± Tina said reassuringly. ¡°At this point, it is not as if we will tell anyone else.¡± She turned to me and raised an eyebrow, and I could see the question in her expression. ¡°Go ahead,¡± I said, grateful that she¡¯d asked permission. ¡°Will already Advanced. He has been in the first Tier for some years now,¡± Tina bragged, and I was tempted to roll my eyes. The pride in her tone was unmistakable. ¡°He-¡± ¡°He what?!¡± Bella¡¯s voice cracked and she glared daggers at me. ¡°No! That is not fair!¡± Figuello gave me an apologetic smile and tried to comfort her, but Bella was committed to her petulant response. Her complaints seemed focused on the fact that Advancing before me was supposed to be her thing to show off and that I was cheating. Standard upset child fare, really. If not for the larger issues at hand, I might have found it amusing. As it was, I just felt sorry for Bella. By all accounts, her day was only going to get worse. The discussion died down somewhat after that, with Figuello scooping Bella onto his shoulders and taking her for a quick walk to calm down. Tina pulled me into a hug and the faint shudder of her shoulders stabbed me like a blade wrought from permafrost. Fudge, having picked up on my feelings, wandered over and inserted himself into the embrace. His antics gave us both a precious moment of respite in the way only a dog¡¯s affection can. When Vigil returned, there was a collective sigh of relief when we saw Lianda hunched over his back. Even Tina, who likely had an impression of the situation through the Tamer Bond, seemed to appreciate the visual confirmation. Strands of Vigil¡¯s metallic fur had grown up and around Lianda, keeping her in place like some kind of living harness. Given the ease with which Vigil could tear up the distance, I was impressed by the safety measure. It occurred to me that, in our haste, we hadn¡¯t thought to attach a note to Vigil. I couldn¡¯t help but wonder how Vigil convinced his passenger that the situation was urgent. Maybe it¡¯s an intuition thing. I¡¯d ask about it at some point, probably, but it wasn¡¯t the most pressing issue occupying my mind. When Vigil skidded to a stop and loosened his hold on Lianda, she wasted no time rushing to her family and pulling them into a hug. A hushed exchange followed, and I did not care to strain my ears or mana to overhear it. I could imagine the broad strokes well enough; the pained look on Figuello¡¯s face as he delivered the news spoke volumes. I didn¡¯t know Lianda as well as I probably could have; compared to the other adults in my life, our interactions were often in passing. Whatever emotions she felt in that moment, her face did not betray them - not to me, at least. If anything, she seemed to exude a quiet strength. She knelt down to speak softly to Bella, and it was then I decided to turn away entirely. Whatever they are speaking about, it is not for me. Time was running out. Despite our preparations with Lionel, there was a sense of finality hanging over my little family. After today, things will never quite be the same. A true enough statement for most days, if one wanted to get semantic with it. Instead, that thought was enough to rattle the forced stoicism I¡¯d poorly wrapped myself in. ¡°I will definitely come and visit when I can.¡± Tina and Tulos - my parents - turned to me as I spoke, each wearing their own mask to help them handle the situation. ¡°It will probably be fun to share stories about my time away, and I know Fudge will want to visit as well¡­¡± I trailed off, the words were supposed to be comforting, but even I could tell they sounded hollow. This sucks. That was all there was to it, really. Tina forced a chuckle out, but decided to join in on the charade. Sometimes simply saying the words was important, even if it might be hard to believe them at the time. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°You had better come visit,¡± she said with faux-outrage as if the very thought that I wouldn¡¯t was tantamount to heresy. ¡°Once your brother is a little older, we will all come visit you, as well, see? Right, love?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Tulos added, before taking a knee so he could get closer to my eye level. ¡°We are proud of you, Will. Do not forget that.¡± I sucked in a quick gasp of breath. Fuck, that one hit hard - keep it together, Will. Unconditional love really had a way of slamming into a person like a battering ram. It took me a long beat to reclaim my composure. ¡°I will not,¡± I said seriously. ¡°I love you both. No matter what happens, that is the truth.¡± They¡¯d both given so much for me, even as I took selfishly from the both of them. Even though I planned to one day return to my old world, it did not change the depths of emotion I felt for my second family. That dissonance, made stark by the situation, threatened to break me. If not for a burst of mana from Perseverance, it very well might have. ¡°We love you too, my Will,¡± Tina replied. She exhaled, though it sounded closer to a huff, and gently smacked her cheeks. ¡°We are perhaps being a bit defeatist, no? It is not impossible that we persuade this Crown representative to leave the children with us.¡± It was bravado built on desperate hope, but neither Tulos or I refuted her. I am not quite that hypocritical. If there was anyone who could understand the desire to hold on to the slimmest slivers of optimism, it was me. Perhaps it was fitting that, shortly after Tina¡¯s declaration, Vigil first heard the sound of something approaching the property. He growled low in his throat, a threatening rumble no doubt born from whatever feelings Tina was letting leak through their Tamer Bond. He positioned himself to face the dirt road leading towards Elbura, and Fudge was quick to follow his sire¡¯s example. A pair of large shapes crested the hill separating our property from the broader farmlands. Horses, I noted. Big-fuck-off-lads, too. They moved in disciplined unity, effortlessly hauling the large carriage they were connected to. We could hear the heavy fall of their hooves, and I quickly realized that their dark coloring wasn¡¯t a silhouette-esque trick of the light. Each horse¡¯s hair was pitch black; there was a uniformity to it - a wrongness - that gnawed at the lizard part of my brain. The carriage itself was similarly imposing, bringing to mind a sort of jagged, gothic aesthetic as opposed to the more elegant pumpkin-shaped vehicles made famous in fairytales. It seemed to glide over the road, as if the irregularities in the dirt were simply not there. Interior curtains made it impossible to view any occupants, despite my best efforts. What in the actual fuck¡­ The entire display screamed intimidation tactics, and if the growing dryness in the back of my throat was any indication, they were working. I heard Tina let out a stifled gasp. ¡°Love, is that¡­¡± she muttered to Tulos, sounding suddenly shaken. ¡°... I think so.¡± CONCERN?! When the worry in Tulos¡¯ voice sent ice writhing through my veins, Fudge abandoned his post to come and stand closer to me. Somehow, he determined the carriage was the source of my growing dread and redoubled his growling efforts as it steadily closed the distance. Nearby, Bella started to cry, her breath coming out in frightened whimpers. This has to be the work of a Skill¡­ The mere presence of the carriage was having a visceral effect on everyone. I urged my Skills into action. Mana from Perseverance flooded my system, thawing the chill that had otherwise seized me. Unnatural or not, this feeling is just another obstacle for me to overcome. Like kindling fed to a growing inferno, my intent fueled Perseverance and gave the mana a purpose. Almost immediately, it was like an unseen pressure lifted from my mind. Able to think with a clearer head, I was reminded of the feeling inspired by the Skill-crafted paper Lionel gave us, all but confirming my suspicions. As the horses pulled up near the house, they came to a gradual standstill with a stamp and a snort. Despite the presence of the large, growling dogs, they did not react in any noticeable way. It was a display of rigid discipline in the face of a predator that the blinders in their tack didn¡¯t fully account for. ¡°Hail to the house!¡± Driving the carriage was a lightly armored man whose stubbled face wore an easygoing smile as he waved in our direction. A single, scabbarded sword rested on the bench alongside him, and I noticed the white silhouette of a crown was sewn into the tabard he wore. ¡°Hail to the carriage!¡± It was Tulos who responded, though he waited slightly longer than he should have to do so. Like me, I suspect he was momentarily thrown off by the juxtaposition of the seemingly friendly driver and the rest of the retinue. Satisfied with the welcome, the driver dropped the reins and casually hopped onto the ground with a dull thud. Moving with practiced efficiency, the sword he¡¯d grabbed on the way down was clasped to his belt within moments. He circled around to the side of the carriage and opened the door without any additional fanfare. Some small part of me almost expected a green, scaly tentacle to emerge instead of a human hand, oozing with some kind of green sludge and smelling vaguely of a cabbage that rolled behind the radiator where it lay forgotten for several months. The arrival of a Crown representative had been tantamount to the boogieman of my second childhood, and despite all evidence to the contrary, I could not help but let my imagination run wild. Instead, it was a burgundy-haired woman who stepped gracefully out of the carriage. Intricate, silver embroidery hemmed what was otherwise a simple, purple gown. Like the driver, she wore an easy smile as she surveyed the people arrayed before her. Unlike the driver, the smile did not quite reach her eyes, which bore the characteristic lines of middle age. Since the earliest days of my childhood, I¡¯d swear that Tina hadn¡¯t aged a day. If I met her for the first time, I¡¯d swear she was still in her early twenties. Tulos¡¯ youth remained similarly resilient, though not quite to the same extent given his comparatively limited Advancement. Either this woman is much older than she appears, or her circumstances are similar to my dad¡¯s¡­ Judging by the confident air about her, I could only assume it was the former. ¡°Oh shit¡­¡± I heard Tina whisper behind me, and I decided to risk a quick backwards glance. There was recognition in her eyes, and I saw it mirrored in Tulos¡¯. This woman was known to them, and it was enough to put them on edge. ¡®Oh shit,¡¯ indeed. As the woman took a few steps forward, the carriage driver fell into place beside her, though there was no mistaking who occupied the position of authority. A handful of steps brought her close enough to address everyone, and she cast her gaze over all of us to ensure she had our attention. ¡°Good afternoon. While I am certain you may already know who I represent and why I am here, procedure dictates I announce it so that there is no confusion or cause for misunderstanding.¡± There was a slight lilt to her voice that wasn¡¯t at all unpleasant. ¡°My name is Rosita Silponyana, Grand Inquisitor and current occupant of the Third Seat. I am here as a Crown representative to oversee the conscription of one Bella of Elbura and one Will Duscall, for the Crown has determined their Core Skills to be desirable and worthy of proper nurturing. Congratulations.¡± Chapter 66 ¡°A difference in Tier is not insurmountable. Even so, common wisdom would suggest that one should not bother with the attempt without good reason. Can anyone posit what some common reasons might be?¡± ~Unknown If one were so inclined, they may argue that technically - technically - I did not know the scope of Rosita¡¯s pair of equally daunting titles. Technically. By that same logic, I could technically tell them to fuck right off if they felt said inclination. It did not take a genius to infer that any title prefaced by the descriptor ¡®grand¡¯ comfortably resided in ¡®do not trifle with¡¯ territory. I continued drawing steadily from my Skills, urging the resulting trickle of mana to keep my mounting anxiety at bay. Mentally, I checked in with my legs - a litmus test, of sorts. Any shaking going on down there? Being legs, they did not respond, but I still became cognizant of the fact that they remained steady. Thank you Perseverance. I wrangled with my erratic coping mechanisms at the speed of thought. Mere seconds had passed and, save for the persistent growling of Vigil and Fudge, no one had yet responded to Rosita¡¯s pronouncement. The gaze of a grand Inquisitor swept over everyone. Watching. Waiting. There was an intensity to the attention, a scrutiny, a weight. I knew not yet what Rosita was searching for, only that hiding it from her would be folly. It was impossible not to be reminded of Bella, albeit in the same way one might compare a faint drizzle to the vehicle throwing might of a typhoon. At the thought, my eyes flicked towards Bella¡¯s family who remained huddled together, as if doing so would allow them to weather the living storm. Someone needed to break the stalemate, and Tina had fallen uncharacteristically silent. Conjecture as to why would not change things. I gulped. Fuck it. ¡°They do not normally send Grand Inquisitors to do this, do they?¡± Despite wishing for the contrary, my voice cracked. I reached out to rest my hand against Fudge, the familiar feel of rough fur between my fingers enough to retain what little nerve I¡¯d been able to muster. Beneath my touch, Fudge¡¯s growl slowly receded into a deceptive quiet. His hackles remained raised. In response to my question, Rosita raised a polite hand to her mouth and chuckled. ¡°I do so appreciate the perceptive ones. Yes, child, they do not normally send the Grand Inquisitor.¡± It was not just amusement I heard, but approval. ¡°Why are you here, Rosita?¡± Tina finally spoke up, and I did not think the timing was a coincidence. Behind Rosita, her escort scowled. ¡°You will address the Grand Inquisitor with her title,¡± he barked, taking half a step forward. At the very least, he seemed the loyal sort. ¡®Peace,¡± Rosita interrupted flatly, her face suddenly devoid of any mirth. ¡°You must forgive Guardsman Lenzo,¡± she added sweetly, briefly turning her attention back to me. ¡°His passion is not yet tempered.¡± The man in question bristled but otherwise returned to his position. ¡°As for you, Lady Duscall, you were once granted permission to address me casually as a gesture of respect, one primarily for your father¡¯s benefit. Given the nature of this conversation, you may consider that permission temporarily suspended.¡± Rosita shifted her posture slightly, angling her head down to make it clear she was speaking to Bella and I directly. ¡°With that matter settled, I shall attempt to answer the initial question. Unfortunately, Ms. Duscall¡¯s choice of words left much to be desired. It would be perfectly reasonable to interpret such imprecise language as evidence of inattentiveness, for I already stated my purpose.¡± Rosita referred to my mother as Lady Duscall, a detail that roused curiosity and threatened a cognitive tangent if not for Perseverance. You can only take one shit at a time, Will. ¡°You know exactly what I was asking,¡± Tina snapped back, taking a step towards the Grand Inquisitor. Tulos placed a hand on her shoulder; I couldn¡¯t tell if it was a show of support or an attempt at restraint. ¡°What of the children?¡± Lianda added her voice to proceedings in an admirable attempt to refocus the discussion. ¡°We wish to petition against their conscription.¡± ¡°Parents in your particular position usually do.¡± Rosita tapped her chin with a single finger. ¡°I wonder, do you know who it was who informed The Crown regarding your daughter¡¯s Core Skill?¡± The implication was enough to inspire a flash of visible fury that shattered Lianda¡¯s composure. ¡°Who. Was. It?¡± Venom dripped from every word. Figuello flinched at his wife¡¯s sudden vitriol, which felt uncharacteristic even to me. ¡°Unfortunately, I cannot disclose that information,¡± Rosita replied, seemingly unbothered by the outburst. Lianda seethed at the empty answer. Figuello¡¯s stare grew vacant, burdened by the sudden realization that every one of his relationships would now fall into question. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Rosita was uncannily adroit with needled words, unnaturally so. It was a Skill, it had to be. ¡°The petition,¡± Tulos rumbled. There was an edge to his voice, a subtle shift that betrayed his frustration to those who knew what to listen for. ¡°Any petition will need to go through the proper channels in Sentrodah,¡± Rosita replied curtly. ¡°Here, today, I will not be swayed. There is sufficient evidence for me to make an informed decision on the matter.¡± Tulos frowned. ¡°You can not just-¡± ¡°Do not presume to dictate my capabilities.¡± Rosita sighed. ¡°Children, come here. We will not delay any longer.¡± There was a finality to the words, said with the easy confidence of someone who knew their will could not be opposed. ¡°No¡­¡± All thoughts of anger abandoned, Lianda knelt down and pulled Bella into an embrace. ¡°Please¡­ you must not take her away from me.¡± A final, desperate plea that came out as barely more than a whisper. The death throes of a mother¡¯s hope. Bella leaned into her mother¡¯s embrace and started to tremble, the reality of the situation finally dawning on her. She shook her head from side to side and I heard her muttering but could not make out the words. I didn¡¯t need to. ¡°What happens if Bella and I say no?¡± I stepped away from my parents, hoping that my apparent value would allow a measure of insolence. ¡°Will, you-¡± ¡°It is quite alright,¡± Rosita interrupted Tina¡¯s attempt at a warning. Not that I needed to hear it. I knew what she was going to say. ¡°Questions from an inquisitive child are to be expected.¡± Rosita closed the distance between us before easing into a modest squat. I felt a stab of panic through the Tamer Bond. Easy, boy, she will not hurt me¡­ I think. Fudge stayed back, but I got the impression he was not entirely convinced. ¡°Inquisitive or not, you are a child. The choice is not yours to make. You will come to Sentrodah where you will be taught how to best use your Skills. Your needs will be seen to. You will be educated. You will be given a purpose. It is a privilege not afforded to many. Be proud. Be grateful.¡± If you remove emotion from the equation, it doesn¡¯t sound like an awful arrangement. Not that I expected her to present the situation as anything other than a positive opportunity. Rosita watched me, once again wearing a gentle smile as she waited for my reaction. ¡°What if I refuse the lessons? What if I try to run away?¡± ¡°As I said, you will be educated.¡± The gentle rebuttal was given with no apparent mind for how ominous it sounded. ¡°Does that answer your question?¡± ¡°It does not. If anything, you were imprecise.¡± Forethought abandoned me as I jabbed at Rosita¡¯s hypocrisy. Instead of a frown or a scowl, she responded with a grin that would unnerve the Cheshire Cat. ¡°Correct, child. Imprecise language is unnecessary and understandably infuriating¡­ When wielded by your mother, I refused to indulge her curiosity. When one wants something that must be given, it is best to be precise. If you wished to similarly deny me, I would respect that position, yet I would not go wanting. Can you guess why?¡± The more Rosita spoke, the more I felt my stomach twist into an uncomfortable knot. I nodded. ¡°Tell me,¡± she said. ¡°You could take from me what I do not give.¡± It was all I could do not to spit the answer. ¡°Correct,¡± she cooed before leaning in close enough to whisper. ¡°If you do not like that reality, then grow strong enough to resist it.¡± In one fluid motion, she stood back up before once again addressing everyone. ¡°It is time to leave. I will not say it a third time, so-¡± Rosita¡¯s eyes settled on Tina and Tulos, who stood hand-in-hand and watched her warily. ¡°How very curious,¡± she mused. ¡°Given the circumstances, one might describe your reaction to your son¡¯s imminent departure as¡­ underwhelming. It begs the question as to why.¡± ¡°You are already taking our son away,¡± Tina said flatly, her eyes full of reignited defiance. ¡°You do not get to watch us lament the time you are stealing.¡± Tulos nodded his support. ¡°No, that is not the reason,¡± Rosita practically purred as she stalked beyond me to get closer to them. ¡°There is something else, something you are hiding from me. You will tell me what that something is.¡± ¡°You are overstepping your authority,¡± Tina¡¯s reply came after a moment¡¯s hesitation. I¡¯d spun to watch the confrontation, leaving Rosita with her back turned to me when she froze in her tracks, becoming eerily still. ¡°For one so presumptuous, you seem to lack confidence. If you insist, I will act within the bounds of my authority.¡± I could feel a pressure pouring out of her, growing increasingly oppressive with every word. ¡°Bella of Elbura and Will Duscall are, from this moment, officially in my charge. During deliberations on the matter, the Bonded Beast of one Tina Duscall displayed open acts of aggression. Until such a time as the safety of the children can be guaranteed, the animal shall be incapacitated as a precautionary measure.¡± Tina ripped away from Tulos, her hands curling into talons as she advanced on Rosita. ¡°You bitch,¡± she snarled. Responding to the needs of his Tamer, Vigil snarled and looked poised to leap at the Grand Inquisitor. Rosita¡¯s arm blurred, moving with a speed I struggled to comprehend. Tina opened her mouth to say something else, but cut off with a strangled cry. I barely heard it. Not at first. Not over Vigil¡¯s sudden yelps of agony as he collapsed into a writhing, crying mass of torment. When Fudge¡¯s Advancement remade him, and mana ripped and tore at every fiber of his being, I was there to hear his cries. The sounds coming out of Vigil were worse, primal and soaked in despair. I could only imagine what Tina was experiencing through the Tamer Bond, for with every passing moment her involuntary spasms were joined with increasing feral screeches. Blood poured from her nose and the fresh wounds on her palms, lacerated by her own fingernails. Vigil thrashed, giving me a glimpse of what looked like a large, metal porcupine quill sprouting from his shoulder. It had to be the culprit. Mere seconds had passed. Rosita watched with a cool indifference. I felt Fudge¡¯s anger and aggression through the Tamer Bond and knew he was preparing to attack the woman responsible for hurting his sire. ¡°Fudge, no!¡± I screamed, both aloud and through the Tamer Bond. It was enough to galvanize me into action. A rush of air from behind me. The distinct clash of metal against metal audible above the agony. It was enough to make Fudge hesitate; someone else had moved before him. I skid to a stop and stared with my mouth agape. Dad?! Interlude: Tulos ¡°For all our efforts, all our knowledge, I am left feeling as if we barely know a thing. It is exciting, is it not?¡± ~Unknown Imprisoned was the titan, bound by colossal chains forged in the fires of conviction. Stripped of armor wrought from pride, it bore a mantle of bloodthirst and violence. Unceasing was the titan¡¯s thrashing, for it yearned to be free. The chains held firm. They always did, leaving it imprisoned beneath the roots of a dying tree. Barbed, the titan¡¯s bindings grew, and so the titan bled. Greedily did the tree drink of its diluted potency, yet in doing so, so too was the titan fed, and so the titan grew. The chains held firm. They always did. Until they didn¡¯t. No omen heralded the sudden upheaval. Screaming winds tore the air. Calamitous quakes ruptured the earth. Fractured, the titan¡¯s prison did, as once immutable chains warped and shattered. An opportunity. A chance. The titan mustered its might and heaved. Yet bound it remained. Impossible. Broken lay the links. Loosened were the restraints¡­ all but a few. Bloodthirst. Violence. Housed by the mantle were the greatest of the chains, endlessly intertwined and buried deep within the titan¡¯s flesh. So long as the titan bore them, it would never be free. No. Strength surged from deep within the titan, answering the tormented call of the wind with a roar that threatened to rend the world asunder. Massive hands engulfed the chains. Muscles bulged with untold strain. A threshold loomed before the titan, and there was nothing it would not sacrifice to cross its bounds. The world stilled. Once more, the titan heaved. Flesh ripped. Sinew tore. Pieces of the mantle were ruthlessly excised in chunks, trailing chains and gore as the titan unmade itself with brutal efficiency. From the jagged wounds oozed silver ichor, and as it covered the titan¡¯s form, so too did its form begin to change. At that moment, the titan did not care. It could not. For the first time in a long time, the titan was free¡­ and it was needed. *** Mana erupted from Tulos¡¯ Core Skill, flooding his system as he rushed towards Rosita. There was no time for reflection or introspection, to weigh conviction against the agony he heard in every one of his beloved¡¯s tortured cries. The decision was made for him. Rosita stood with her arm outstretched towards Vigil¡¯s writhing form. A diversion. A distraction. A break in concentration. Something needed to be done to disrupt whatever Skill was at play. Mana-sharpened senses searched for an opening in Rosita¡¯s stance and spotted several. A ruse, reawakened instincts screamed at him, sharp as the day he set them down. She saw him. She was ready for him. She was not the only one. The instant Tulos started to move, Rosita¡¯s subordinate rushed to intercept him. Lithe muscle and mana enhancement carried the man easily across the distance, each foot barely touching the ground. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Adrenaline set Tulos¡¯ heart to hammering, eliciting an involuntary thrill as restraint gave way to the elation of fully embracing Weapons [Axe] for the first time in over a decade. Tulos'' weapon of choice, the large battle axe from his time in The Capital, remained out of reach, propped casually against the door of his workshed. The common hatchet on his belt was a poor substitute. It would have to suffice. He did not remember transferring the weapon to his hand; the action existed beyond thought. Every step practically thrummed as possibility rushed to the forefront of Tulos¡¯ desperate mind. Power. Momentum. At their core, there was a deceptive aggression to the axe forms ingrained into Tulos by his teachers and refined by his Skill. The standard issue short sword worn by his opponent had already been freed from its scabbard, and Tulos could only be thankful that interior spaces and city walls did not favor armaments known for their reach. He was still at a disadvantage, but it was not insurmountable. Tulos curled his free arm over his neck and torso, willing to use the bulk of his extremity as a shield as he swung the hatchet in an overhand chop. Mana from Strength [Body] joined in perfect sync with Tulos¡¯ Core Skill, saturating his muscles to the edge of injury to throw every ounce of his considerable mass behind the strike. It was a desperate maneuver that bordered on suicidal. A well aimed sword thrust could severely injure him, lethally so. Tulos felt the haft of his hatchet threaten to splinter under the force of his white-knuckle grip. Even in death, he would not release the weapon, nor would its momentum cease. Every one of Tina¡¯s screams hardened Tulos¡¯ resolve. When sword parried hatchet, Tulos learned a piece of valuable information; he was prepared to throw down his life in the exchange. His opponent was not. The swordsman immediately launched into their counter-offensive, a display of agility that highlighted the difference in Tier between the two fighters. It was that same agility that allowed them to seamlessly transition into a frantic defense when Tulos was able to match the pace. It should not have been possible, yet disbelief did little to alter the deadly reality. There was no time for Tulos to question the seemingly bottomless well of mana erupting from his core, only to direct it towards the fight. Every form had a name, and as Tulos flowed from one to the next, so too did his mana fuel their might. River Stone to Foot of Bear, Backwards Claw and Mountain Cliff. The names were secondary to the sheer brutality and aggression of every chop or domineering piece of footwork. Conversely, his opponent''s sword lashed out like a serpent in a series of artful thrusts, transitioning fluidly from defense to offense; the favored sword school of Sentrodah¡¯s guardsmen earned its reputation for good reason. Every second stretched endlessly, and it was impossible to tell how many had passed. Too many, for the sudden spasm of agony in Tulos¡¯ leg signaled a turning point. Reckless mana enhancement always had its risks, and Tulos forcing his Tier One body beyond its limits was sufficient to invite them. Torn muscle refused to obey. The sudden lapse in Tulos¡¯ footwork created an opening, one his opponent exploited without hesitation. That was the first cut, the first of many. Hot, burning pain accompanied each kiss of steel. Having lost the momentum, Tulos¡¯ opponent seized the tempo. With the tempo, they dismantled Tulos¡¯ defense. Mana could only compensate for blood loss for so long. As Tulos crumpled to his knees, so too did the heightened efficacy of his Skill start to wane. Along with the budding mana pains came the vague sensation that a System Window was awaiting his review. Tulos did not notice it, nor did he hear whatever snide remark his opponent made from behind their outstretched blade. He saw their lips moving, but could not hear anything over the deafening sound of the blood pounding in his ears. Surprisingly, a killing blow never came. Perhaps it was because of the hatchet still locked in Tulos¡¯ grasp. Even in victory, his opponent remained cautious. Weakness threatened to seize Tulos. Strangely, he wondered how he must look, brought low like some wounded beast of burden. Gradually, his vision grew dark and¡­ no, that was wrong. It was not just his vision. A dark shadow had fallen over everyone. His opponent was glancing skywards. Something was blotting out the sun. Tulos mustered what little strength remained to him and fixed his face into a rictus grin. The shadow brought with it a noise, one that pierced through his growing fugue in defiance of all things sensible. A whistle. Announcement (Good News) Hello hello to all of my wonderful readers, Today is not a chapter, but an announcement regarding the future of What Will Be. Over the next few weeks, my schedule is going to be laden with a bit of chaos as I make the transition to writing full-time. There are meetings I must attend, people I must talk with, and a host of other preparations that need to be made so that things go as smoothly as possible. Does this mean I will not be writing during that time? Definitely not, I still intend to keep writing but just in case things get hectic I am going to hit pause on the regular release schedule. Instead, I will be wrapping up the last chunk of Book 1 and dropping it all at once when it is finished so that y¡¯all may binge to completion (though over on Patreon they will get things a smidge earlier). Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. After that, I will begin editing, finalizing the outline for book 2, and jumping straight into it. Once I have a nice little backlog of chapters for book 2 I will drop a bunch over the span of a day or two and then regular releases will resume. There are many great things to come and I am excited to share the rest of this journey with all of you. We are only just getting started. Best, -Googieman Chapter 67 - 69 Chapter 67 ¡°Trial and error are often cited as necessary for learning. Of the two, I can assure you that error is the better teacher. Error cannot exist without trial, however, for error must be invited if it is to teach at all. For those of you who neglected the additional classes being offered by my guest this past month, I can only wish you the best as you paddle around the shallow pool of ignorance you have deemed appropriate to lay your eggs and spawn your disappointing brood in.¡± ~Unknown Film and cinema, while entertaining - and oh how I missed them - were often purveyors of mismanaged expectations on the topic of violence. Understandable, of course, when one considers the marketability of snarky quips and camera pans of triple flips compared to the reality. Journalists seldom told stories of epic duels between honorable warriors; no, theirs was the domain of sucker punches and back alley brawls. Violence was a quick and ugly thing, a trait System-enhanced bodies did little to alleviate. If anything, they exacerbated the issue. Watching Vigil clash with the fueha was one thing, late night documentaries of lions chasing down wildebeest or the deluge of shark-related content made it easier to reconcile the sheer power behind that clash of predators. Watching Tulos fight Rosita¡¯s goon was something entirely different. Ocular blood vessels strained as I subconsciously drew deeply from Perseverance in an effort to folllow their movements. The sight inspired the same kind of awe I felt watching an artist turn a smear of charcoal into a breathtaking portrait within the same time it¡¯d take me to badly scramble an egg. Every movement flowed seamlessly into the next, and despite the contrast in each fighter¡¯s style, the mastery on display transcended what I thought possible for the human body. That same awe almost immediately turned to dread when Tulos took his first injury, and as one cut became close to a dozen it reached a fever pitch. Fudge! I called out through the Tamer Bond, sharing with him my hope and desperation. If there was ever time for Fudge to use Quantum Manipulation again, it was then, in that moment. I did not know to what end, only that it was the only idea I had. There was no hesitation. Fudge¡¯s mana stirred, and in its stirring it reached for mine. I gave it to him freely, and in consciously doing so I gained a sense of the Skill. Unlike the density of Vigil¡¯s mana, or the innate percussive rhythm of Lionel¡¯s, the mana from Quantum Manipulation felt like everything and nothing. As moments stretched and time teetered on the edge of meaning, it transitioned from the feeling of moist cotton candy to dry twigs in a shoe to the nurturing hug from an elder mountain and all that and more and none again. Liminal force filled Fudge before pushing beyond him, and in searching to slip through what could be, it encountered that which was - that which wished to remain. An insurmountable barrier. Barriers, really, but one dwarfed all others in its vastness. A wall of torment claimed dominion, and at its touch our mana came undone. I physically recoiled, gasping for breath as I processed the metaphysical whiplash, my forehead suddenly slick with icy sweat. Fudge yelped and I watched his tail curl between his legs even as Tulos crumpled to his knees in defeat. One did not need to be a doctor to determine the danger of his condition. Blood stained his clothes, gradually pooling from every cut. No injury was fatal on its own, but I had to imagine that not even mana could stave off blood loss indefinitely. It was perhaps fitting that, as things grew increasingly grim, a shadow fell over proceedings. I tilted my head towards the sky, for how seldom it was that a person looked up. A large shape had eclipsed the sun, and whatever it was, it was growing closer. The details were lost on through the glint of sun silhouetting its form, but the distances involved spoke to the sheer scale of the thing. Along with the darkness came a whistle, one that pierced through the air as it grew from soft and distant to painfully loud over several seconds. I heard no other sounds, which was enough to inspire a neck-snapping shift of attention. Sure enough, Tina and Vigil lay suddenly still save for the rise and fall of ragged breath. Rosita also watched the sky, wearing an unreadable expression. Her head gradually tilted down as if tracking something with her eyes. When the whistle reached its crescendo a mighty gust of wind flattened the grass and almost sent me reeling, reminding me of the effect a landing helicopter had on the landscape. A fitting comparison, as the next moment Lionel landed on bent knees barely a few steps away from me. With his landing, the whistle cut off, and the winds along with them. ¡°Landing from such an immense height never gets easier on the knees,¡± he said sternly as he took in the situation. No one replied. I couldn¡¯t reply. My mind was still trying to wrap around the newest of many sudden developments. ¡°Grand Inquisitor, before we exchange proper greetings, you will forgive an immediate matter.¡± Lionel let loose a whistle, low and lingering. The swordsman, Lenzo, grunted in sudden surprise as he slammed into the ground, a literal depression forming around him as some unseen force pressed into the earth around - and presumably underneath - him. ¡°Alas, circumstances dictate I show restraint.¡± Despite Lionel speaking, the whistle continued, occasionally spiking to jagged notes of sudden discord. ¡°For that, you have my appreciation,¡± Rosita said, seemingly unbothered by the increasingly pained struggles of her subordinate. ¡°Unnecessary though his actions were, Guardsman Lenzo was acting to defend me.¡± She had the audacity to smirk. Lionel quirked an eyebrow that somehow managed to maintain its perfect manicuring despite his rapid descent through the air, looking briefly between the wounded Tulos and the interloper. ¡°Is that so,¡± he replied, flattening the question into a skeptical statement. Something minor twitched in Rosita¡¯s face, a butterfly wing in a gale somewhere distant, but it was so passing that I couldn¡¯t read it no matter how hard I tried to. Rosita did not respond to Lionel, and resorted herself to merely watching him walk over to the pair of men who had only seconds before been dueling to the death. The low, keen whistle still resonated in the air around us as he approached the Guardsman. ¡°In a few moments you will be released,¡± he said to the swordsman with barely concealed distaste, ¡°and when you are, you will return to the carriage. You will remain there.¡± Although the sheer wind pressure prevented Lenzo from nodding, his acquiescence was apparent in his eyes. He could see the gap in skill between himself and his not-quite-opponent, and unlike Tulos - who had just been in that position minutes before - he had no motivation to try and overcome it. ¡°Lieutenant, I must now protest,¡± interjected Rosita. ¡°I would feel much safer were my Guardsman to stay by my side. These people¡­¡± she paused to look around at us, two children, two subdued adults, two helpless adults and a pair of dogs, ¡°are unpredictable, and as recently demonstrated, prone to violence.¡± Lionel stopped trying to even hide his distaste. ¡°Grand Inquisitor, an appreciation for performance is not beyond me. In this instance, the casual juggling of your myriad authority inspires naught but disdain from me. The Guardsman will go back to the carriage, I will tend to this man¡¯s wounds, and then we will discuss this like reasonable adults,¡± he said. The note of finality was clear. The whistle stopped. Some of the grass sprang back into place, glad to be released from the unceasing pressure of the fist of air that had slammed into it. After taking the time to catch his breath, the Guardsman rose to one knee, then the other, then stood. He looked between his mistress and the powerful newcomer with increasing confusion, wearing an expression like a child asked to choose between eating boiled green beans or steamed brussels sprouts. There was no room for sympathy in my heart, not then. When Rosita failed to further argue Lionel on the matter, the Guardsman, now walking with a limp, retreated. ¡°You are stepping dangerously close to aggression, Lieutenant,¡± Rosita warned. ¡°You might mock my authority but should know better than to so overtly challenge it.¡± Lionel did not answer straight away, instead pulling forth a small leather pouch from some unseen pocket. Nestled within was a neatly wrapped bundle of green paste that somehow neither dripped nor dared escape the confines of its casing. With practiced efficiency, he smeared small amounts over each of Tulos¡¯ wounds. Tulos nodded his thanks but otherwise remained quiet, either because he was on the edge of consciousness or because he saw the wisdom in silence I could not say. ¡°That is an expensive good deed,¡± Rosita jabbed. As we waited, I noticed that the shadow remained overhead. It only shifted when Lionel whistled again, and it was growing closer. ¡°Bold to concern yourself with barbed words,¡± Lionel said, absent any of his usual mirth. ¡°When I said ¡®we,¡¯ I was also including the gentleman with whom I called in a favor for the speedy delivery and - unless my eyes are deceiving me - you recently unleashed your Skill upon his former pupil.¡± A flash of genuine worry broke Rosita¡¯s otherwise impenetrable facade and her eyes shot skyward again. ¡°He is going to land?!¡± she hissed. ¡°It was a considerable favor,¡± was all Lionel said. As the silhouette grew steadily closer, so too did its shape grow more distinct. The long neck. The impressive wingspan. I searched for a serpentine tail when the creature roared to announce its imminent descent, except the roar sounded strange. It was deep and earthshaking, but less of a roar and more of- A quack. The outline of the massive creature sharpened enough for me to make out the telltale sign of feathers where I had expected scales. Is that thing a fucking duck? Chapter 68 ¡°When presented with new evidence, wisdom dictates one should reevaluate their conclusions. Unfortunately, people like their conclusions, they grow attached, and so they fight to protect them in spite of wisdom. This trend is especially common in interpersonal relationships. That is to say, making a poor first impression today was not particularly wise. Please take a seat.¡± ~Unknown A fucking duck it was. It was difficult to appreciate the sheer scale of the thing from afar, for while I¡¯d been able to discern that the duck was big, my estimates on the matter did not prepare me for the reality. The fields surrounding our house bordered on inadequate as the feathered behemoth began its final descent, trumpeting another rumbling quack to herald its arrival. I wasn¡¯t sure if duck feathers counted as plumage, as I¡¯d only ever heard the word used in reference to the decorative displays worn by more audacious avians, but the pearlescent feathers covering that duck ¨C most easily larger than I was ¨C were definitely worthy of the term; they practically sparkled as their owner dove towards the ground. I¡¯d likened Lionel¡¯s landing to that of a helicopter but the comparison was more fitting in the case of the duck. Despite my former, admittedly largely sedentary, lifestyle I was not unfamiliar with ducks. Rather, I thought that had been the case. When I imagined a landing duck my mind conjured images of one gliding into a body of water, not unlike how a plane touched down on a runway. Ripples would follow in the duck¡¯s wake and the resistance of the water would bring them to a gradual stop whereupon they could forage for bread and cigarette butts and whatever else the local population happened to litter that day. We did not have a pond. Even if we did, I doubted it would be large enough to accommodate our newest visitor, who I suspected would need a lake or especially wide river. Without other recourse, the duck ended its descent by buffeting its colossal wings to arrest its momentum until it was practically hovering. It was only then that it gradually lowered to the ground, and I swear I felt the earth rumble from the impact. Even though the duck had dominated most of my attention, I was still faintly aware of Bella¡¯s family staring mouth-agape at the continuing cascade of unexpected arrivals. I¡¯d not paid them much mind while the earlier conflict escalated ¨C my priorities laid elsewhere ¨C but it was good to see they were, relatively speaking, okay. Rosita casually approached Vigil and extracted the large needle from his shoulder - notably, the wound it left did not seem to bleed - while Lionel continued tending to Tulos, the latter having retrieved a roll of bandages from somewhere to quickly apply pressure to his friend¡¯s myriad wounds. With the removal of the needle, the last of the tension left Vigil¡¯s form and he relaxed into whatever unconscious state his mind had escaped to when subjected to Rosita¡¯s Skill. I noticed that stuff happening, but it was all overshadowed, quite literally, by the duck. It was the size of a hill, and I did not mean that as a metaphor. Whale skeletons in museums and documentaries about dinosaurs had not adequately prepared me to be in the presence of a creature so imposing, one that existed in defiance of what science and logic told me should be possible. Despite living in a world governed by a magical System, the daily minutia of it all often made it easy to forget that the truly wondrous was possible. Evidently, that also included giant fucking ducks. The dogs in the kennel must be freaking out. Honestly, I was unsure why they hadn¡¯t already made an appearance. The wall around the kennel was largely for show, and giant semi-aquatic avian aside, Tina¡¯s screams almost certainly reached them. As the duck settled into its landing, it turned its head towards us. Such was its size, that I could clearly see the scrutiny in its gaze. I¡¯d always considered duck eyes to be somewhat beady. I did not consider that duck¡¯s eyes beady. There was a quality about them, something beyond description that spoke of an intelligence I couldn¡¯t quite understand. Something tugged at the edge of my perception, as if the gentle caress of an autumn breeze were encouraging me to seize tomorrow. With effortless grace, the duck craned its neck over the gathered party. I almost expected the thing to speak. It honestly wouldn¡¯t surprise me at this point. Instead, a man, previously hidden somewhere on the duck¡¯s back, came into view. With hands clasped gently behind his back, he strolled along the feathered bridge provided for him. White though his hair may have been, it possessed the same pearlescent quality as the duck¡¯s feathers. I watched him dumbly - we all did. Even Rosita maintained a quiet patience. Once above us, the man simply took a step off the neck and fell to the ground. No, to say he fell would be inaccurate. He floated, as if gravity¡¯s grasp were merely tenuous. A gentle sway accompanied his fall, yet not a single, combed hair fell out of place. The satchel he wore remained similarly undisturbed. There was a softness to his features, touched by age rather than ravaged by it. The plumpness of his cheeks and slight crook to his nose probably disqualified him from silver fox status, but I¡¯d honestly never actually read the criteria. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. The gentle smile he wore didn¡¯t fade, even as he surveyed the situation. ¡°Goodness, I take it there is some dispute here?¡± He was soft spoken, but not lacking in confidence. There was no indication the scene of recent violence bothered him, not that I could see, at least. ¡°An illegal dispute of Crown Conscription,¡± Rosita said, her voice touched by casual politeness, as if discussing the weather. There had been no formal exchange of greetings which made me all the more curious as to the man¡¯s identity. ¡°Unfortunately uncommon,¡± he said with a gentle shake of his head. ¡°Even so, this seems excessive.¡± Behind him, the duck had retracted its neck and busied itself preening the feathers on its back with nips and shakes. ¡°With all due respect, that is not for you to judge.¡± She accompanied the rebuttal with her characteristic, dead-eyed smile. ¡°In that, you are correct Ms. Silponyana.¡± If it bothered him, he didn¡¯t show it. ¡°One might ponder the peculiarity that you would abstain from insisting we address you by your illustrious title,¡± Lionel added, addressing Rosita. To her credit, Rosita did not bite at the obvious bait, instead opting for silence. ¡°Let us not be reduced to squabbling children,¡± the older man gently reprimanded Lionel before once again turning to Rosita. ¡°I do have a bias here, given that little Tina was a student of mine. I would appreciate it if you were more gentle in your dealings with her in the future.¡± Rosita¡¯s mouth formed a tight line, but she nodded. ¡°I will do this as a favor to you, Master Aylesbury.¡± ¡°Then it is appreciated. Now, as to why I am here - I have a delivery for you,¡± the man, Aylesbury, said. Hearing the name aloud tickled my memory, but I couldn¡¯t remember why. ¡°... I see.¡± It was a heavy statement, so devoid of inflection as to send a shiver down my spine. ¡°First, however, I must collect my payment. A condition of my taking this job personally was the opportunity to reunite with one of my more spirited pupils. Should she remain incapacitated or should the man she wed die of blood loss I suspect I will be unable to collect. You will pardon the brief delay while I rectify the situation.¡± He did not wait for an answer and instead made his way over to Lionel and Tulos. ¡°Thank you sir, I-¡± Tulos tried to be polite between a wince but was cut off by Aylesbury. ¡°I am aware,¡± was all he said. ¡°Best not to make her worry. Now, sit still.¡± Seeing him next to Tulos, I became suddenly cognizant of how short Aylesbury was. Granted, Tulos could dwarf most people, but the effect was particularly pronounced in the case of Aylesbury. I held my hand out for Fudge, who had taken the opportunity to wander back over during the conversation. He kept looking warily back at the duck. Aylesbury flipped open his satchel and was quick to retrieve a small, wooden box. ¡°You are lucky I carry at least one of these on my person for emergencies,¡± he chided before opening the container. Even though it was daytime, the orange glow emanating from the contents was noticeable. Without much fanfare, Aylesbury reached in and retrieved a feather that seemed to shift in the light it produced, as if it were a living flame. Lionel let out an impressed whistle. ¡°You do not see one of those every day,¡± he said, momentarily slipping out of his usually verbose persona. ¡°I would surely hope not, either,¡± Aylesbury was quick to reply. ¡°Now then, Tina¡¯s husband, count to three.¡± ¡°One-¡± With a blur of movement, Aylesbury plunged the feather into one of Tulos¡¯ wounds, prompting a scream that bordered on a roar from him. ¡°What did you-¡± He cut off again as his words transitioned into a grunt of pain. The glow from the feather was emanating from the shallow cut it was shoved into, and I watched wide-eyed as that glow quickly spread through Tulos¡¯ body, illuminating his veins with a flash. Smoke began to drift away from the wounds and they closed over the span of moments. All throughout, Tulos writhed as the living fire coursed through his insides. Well, fuck. I¡¯d been swearing a lot that day, but it felt warranted all things considered. ¡°Before anyone feels inclined to ask,¡± Lionel said, ¡°inquiring as to the value of such an item will only induce dread. Suffice to say, thank you for your generosity.¡± The last part was addressed to Aylesbury who just waved it off. ¡°I value my time even higher,¡± was all he said by way of explanation before walking over to Tina. As he walked, he retrieved what looked to be a metal flask from the satchel. He held it to his ear, gave it a shake, popped it open and gave it a sniff. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, he nodded before easily easing Tina into an upright position so as to pour some into her mouth. ¡°What are you giving her,¡± I asked. Aylesebury seemed to like Tina well enough that I felt safe in doing so. ¡°We call it ¡®The Drink,¡¯¡± Aylesbury said. ¡°It is for longer flights and journeys. I had to check if I grabbed the spare flask and not my personal one.¡± I could only guess as to why. A pale-faced Tulos struggled to pull himself into an upright position on shaky limbs, keeping his eyes locked on Tina while the mystery contents of the flask were poured into her mouth. When he tried to stand, Lionel placed a firm hand on his shoulder and it was enough to hold him in place. Tina¡¯s eyes shot open. Panic seized her. She thrashed, but Aylesbury¡¯s grip was iron. ¡°Hush now. It is okay. All is well.¡± Tina¡¯s wild eyes abruptly returned to focus as she took in the sight of her former teacher. They darted over to Tulos, to Lionel, to Vigil, and finally to me. I couldn¡¯t decipher the rapid morphing of emotions that crossed her face at that moment, but she wordlessly reached out to me and tried to climb to her feet. I ran to her before she could, not wanting her to strain herself. Aylesbury did not interrupt when she placed her hands on my cheeks and looked me over. ¡°Are you okay, my Will?¡± The worry in her voice was like a lance to the heart. Despite everything, her first thoughts were of me. ¡°I am okay, mom,¡± I whispered, knowing she would hear. It was as if the question of my wellbeing was the only thing keeping whatever psychological whiplash she¡¯d experienced at bay. She pulled me in close and I felt her body start to shake with barely contained sobs. Hatred is an ugly emotion. It twists and convulses with thorned tendrils that burrow into some unseen part of yourself where they burn with rot and fester, slowly denying warmth from everything else. I¡¯d always strived to keep the emotion at bay. Rosita had challenged my conviction that day. Every callous act, every dismissive word, had torn at my resolve. Seeing my mother reduced to tears filled me with a fire that burned away the last of my reservation as I allowed a seed of hatred to take root. My head was resting on Tina¡¯s shoulder, and I turned to glare at Rosita while I swelled with anger destined to remain impotent that day. It writhed in my stomach like some living, eldritch thing. My body was practically trembling with emotion that desperately needed to be vented, even through something as simple as a small act of defiance. Rosita was already looking in our direction - at me specifically. She saw the pain she¡¯d so casually inflicted. She saw the tableau of a tormented mother and her child. I saw her head tilt ever so slightly as she took in my expression, as if savoring the taste. The bitch smiled. It reached her eyes. Chapter 69 ¡°Strange how we seldom start at the beginning when referencing texts on a subject. Rather, we sort through them to select only what we need. At least, that is common practice, and I cannot help but wonder what is lost in doing so. I often think of Skills the same way.¡± ~Unknown Aylesbury pulled away from Tina and I, turning his attention towards Rosita whose expression snapped back to calm neutrality. Given the history he seemingly shared with my mother, the casual detachment Aylesbury displayed in response to the situation felt decidedly off and I couldn¡¯t articulate exactly why. Once again, he reached into his satchel, this time withdrawing a neatly folded letter. ¡°Thank you for your patience. Please accept this delivery.¡± In a movement that spoke of practiced ceremony, he folded one arm behind his back and dipped into a half-bow, of sorts, with the hand brandishing the letter extended in front of him. Rosita did not reply, instead opting to simply take the letter and study the glossy, wax seal that protected its contents. The sight of it was enough to inspire a frown harsh enough to break through her facade. Before opening it, she rounded on Lionel and Tulos, though her eyes briefly flicked back towards Tina as well. ¡°Withering though your glare may be, and sharp as I am sure your mind is, you had best peruse the contents of that missive,¡± Lionel said. Beside him, I saw Tulos¡¯ shoulders dip as some residual tension left his body. ¡°Suppose I decide to focus on my current duties and read it later?¡± Rosita¡¯s voice was flat. ¡°It will not change the validity of the contents, and I am now free to act on them.¡± Lionel punctuated the point by slightly wetting his lips, drawing attention to them. In anyone else, the action might be seen as coy or flirtatious. Coming from Lionel, it was more akin to a threat. ¡°I am going to tend to Cortez,¡± Aylesbury interrupted. ¡°Please do not delay the conclusion to your business. I wish to speak to my former pupil.¡± His eyes passed over Fudge. ¡°Her offspring, too.¡± With that, he made his way back towards the duck, rather, back towards Cortez. Out of sensible options, Rosita snapped the seal, sending crackling flakes of wax scattering to the ground before she unfolded the paper and started reading. ¡°Mama, what is happening?¡± I heard Bella¡¯s question cut through the relative quiet that settled as Rosita¡¯s eyes darted over the page. ¡°What is happening, child, is that you will no longer have company on our journey to Sentrodah.¡± It was Rosita who replied. If she felt exasperated by the contents of the letter, she did not let it show. There it was, confirmation that Lionel had pulled through for me. What should have been a moment of relief was instead violently strangled by the implications of Rosita¡¯s answer. I wasn¡¯t the only one who felt that way, either. ¡°What does she mean?¡± It was Lianda who asked, directing the question towards Tulos. Tina was still struggling to regain her composure, but I felt her grow still under the accusation in Lianda¡¯s voice. ¡°She-¡± ¡°If not for the request of Master Aylesbury, I would admonish you, perhaps gently, for attempting to speak on my behalf,¡± Rosita interrupted. Tulos was still weak from whatever restorative magics had burned through his body and could not muster a rebuttal. ¡°What I mean is that the boy¡¯s parents made arrangements for him; odd that they did not include you in them.¡± She let the insidious sentiment hang for a moment. ¡°Now, release the girl into my custody or I will remove her by force. Your reluctance speaks poorly to your priorities. For a child to receive The Crown¡¯s guidance is a privilege.¡± As Rosita started making her way towards the increasingly distraught family, I turned to look at Lionel whose mouth was set in a thin line. Upon noticing my gaze he slowly shook his head. There¡¯s nothing he can do for her - nothing legal, at least. An obvious alternative crossed my mind. How could it not? I had the opportunity to make some grand statement about trading places with Bella, so that she might join The Slayers in my stead. I kept my mouth shut. Even if such an audacious request were within the realms of possibility - and given the politics involved I was skeptical - I couldn¡¯t bring myself to risk the sacrifice. Lionel¡¯s involvement alone made The Slayers a better option for me. Besides, I told myself. Lionel made it clear that being recruited by The Slayers was more of a lateral move when compared to conscription by The Crown. It was one of the several justifications I fed myself to distract from the scene playing out before me. Tina held me close as Bella was pulled from her mother, and I told myself that Rosita probably wasn¡¯t representative of The Crown as a whole. Bella¡¯s confusion quickly turned to alarm, and when she called for her mama and papa both were forced to cling to each other as they watched their daughter unceremoniously loaded onto the carriage. Bella was young, I told myself. She would adapt. My goals, my ambitions, could not - should not - be sabotaged for the sake of some kid. Every one of Bella¡¯s increasingly frantic cries tore at my resolve, but I refused to let it crumble. Bella was not threatened, nor told to stop, as if her new chaperones were content to let her simply tire herself out. The only thing they denied her was her parents. Rosita did not spare us any grand, parting words, save to offer a brief, farewell to Aylesbury and Lionel. ¡°Slayer Lieutenant, I must congratulate your maneuvering. It is not often I am denied.¡± ¡°That is, perhaps, not the revelation you might envision it to be,¡± Lional replied while simultaneously giving the Grand Inquisitor a formal salute. ¡°Safe travels to you.¡± ¡°To you as well. I look forward to learning why you had leave to attend this matter personally, given recent events.¡± ¡°One might inquire the same regarding you.¡± Lionel then held her gaze long enough for them to silently communicate something. Throughout the exchange, Bella did not cease her cries and her parents wore brave faces as they fed her lies about seeing eachother soon. Those desperate attempts at comfort were likely having the opposite effect, given Bella¡¯s Skill, but tragedy often superseded rational decision making. I knew that all too well. Once the carriage was receding into the distance, taking the sound of Bella along with it, I felt bile gather in the back of my throat. I am despicable, I told myself, knowing that if given the opportunity I¡¯d still make the same decision. Lionel helped Tulos to his feet, hunching under his friend¡¯s armpit to help guide him over to Tina and I. ¡°You knew Will was not going to be taken.¡± Lianda spoke up, stepping towards us on shaking legs. ¡°You knew, but you had us here anyway under some notion of a joint front, as if our circumstances were the same.¡± She practically spat the accusation. Behind her, Figuello watched through a stony expression, the tears he¡¯d held back for his daughter now on the edge of bursting forth. There was no light in his eyes, the boisterous energy I¡¯d come to associate with the man had left with Bella. ¡°We did not know, but we hoped,¡± Tulos said, punctuating his point with a wince, as if still plagued by some ghostly ache of the pain he¡¯d been experiencing. ¡°You say that as if it makes any difference,¡± Lianda snapped back. ¡°You hid your hope in our despair, and for that I will never forgive you.¡± She spared a glance towards Tina, just long enough to waver on the edge of compassion before giving into her impotent frustrations. ¡°Either of you.¡± There was nothing that could be said to reconcile things, not then, not while feelings were raw as they were. ¡°We understand,¡± was all that Tulos said. Lianda looked like she had more to say, but the words died in her mouth, for there were no words that could convey her feelings. Bella¡¯s parents left. I wondered if they would ever return. There is something that touches upon the absurd about watching the fracturing of a years-old friendship in the looming shadow of a giant duck, punctuated by the occasional sounds produced by such a massive body. I tried not to dwell on it. ¡°I am always humbled by the differences in values shared by the many communities in our country,¡± Aylesbury said, having wandered back to the group when Bella¡¯s parents departed. He wielded a large feather in one hand, easily larger than me, presumably having collected it from their preening companion. ¡°In Sentrodah, Crown conscription is celebrated. Now then, Tina, I take it you can spare the time for a conversation.¡± I saw a flash of annoyance cross my mother¡¯s features but she quickly schooled them. ¡°Of course I can make time for you, Master,¡± she said. ¡°There will be plenty of time for nightmares once you have left.¡± She spoke cordially, all things considered. I could only imagine how I¡¯d be faring if I¡¯d had to endure whatever agony Rosita unleashed upon her and Vigil, the latter of whom was still asleep. ¡°Splendid. In that case, come with me to Cortez. He misses you, and it was difficult to convince him not to eat the Grand Inquisitor when he saw your state.¡± Why did you bother stopping him? I thought, but didn¡¯t dare voice my spite. ¡°I would like that,¡± Tina said. After Aylesbury helped pull her to her feet she quickly ran to Tulos to give him an embrace that reminded me of a koala lunging at a tree before checking on Vigil and making sure he was comfortable. Only then did she follow him. ¡°Now, about that special project of ours, how is she-¡± Their voices abruptly cut off, and Lionel chuckled. Upon seeing the question in my expression, he just shrugged. ¡°Aylesbury is a courier who sometimes handles important documents. He can keep information private, when he wants to, and I am somewhat infamous for eavesdropping.¡± ¡°Right¡­ Thank you, Lionel, for saving my dad.¡± Lionel scratched the back of his head and chuckled. ¡°Believe me, your father would have been fine. My presence merely smoothed the way. Though perhaps more importantly, you had best get in the habit of calling me Lieutenant. For all intents and purposes, you are now a Slayer recruit.¡± It was hard to feel happy about the news. ¡°How long?¡± Tulos asked, and he didn¡¯t need to elaborate for Lionel and I to infer the specifics of his questions. ¡°Not long enough, I am afraid,¡± Lionel said while giving Tulos a smack on the shoulder. ¡°Officially, Will and I will be departing immediately. Master Aylesbury, unfortunately, is unable to provide transportation, so we will have to make our way on foot, which is a dreadfully unreliable way to travel.¡± Tulos narrowed his eyes. ¡°One day,¡± Lionel said. ¡°I can spare you one day to spend as a family and say your goodbyes. I realize it is not a lot, but-¡± ¡°It is more than we could have hoped for,¡± Tulos said, looking off in the direction Bella¡¯s parents went. We all did. ¡°Thank you, Lionel.¡± One day¡­ I tried not to think about what would come after. Chapter 70 ¡°For all that we play at polite society, one must wonder how much effort goes into keeping the truly powerful among us content. Compared to some, we are but toddlers, but it is uncomfortable to speak about - so we refrain¡± ~Unknown Aylesbury¡¯s sudden departure was unexpected. That is not to say it was subtle; the wall of rushing air conjured by the frantic beating of colossal duck wings made that impossible. Rather, I was left wondering why I had not been called over, given that Aylesbury had expressed some interest in an introduction. On any other day, I might have lamented the lost opportunity; speaking with someone seemingly touching the upper crusts of Advancement would almost certainly be valuable. As it was, all I felt was a sort of defeated relief. I hadn¡¯t considered the events of that day a victory, not really, but we¡¯d survived them. It was over. I shuddered to think what might have transpired if not for Lionel¡¯s timely arrival, even as I selfishly lamented that it had not come five minutes sooner. ¡°Will, can you give me some time alone with your father?¡± Lionel asked, as if sensing my thoughts. Like me, he was busy brushing freshly disturbed clumps of grass and dirt from his clothing. ¡°We have an important issue to discuss.¡± At one point, he¡¯d dragged over a collection of the loose logs we often used for outdoor furniture and had sat himself across from us, resting an ankle on his knee. ¡°I would rather be here to hear it.¡± If Lionel was going to prod that metaphorical bear anyway, I didn¡¯t want to miss it. ¡°I know you would, but even so, it is a private matter.¡± He tried offering me a teasing smile. ¡°Or are you that determined to deny the request of one of your new commanding officers?¡± ¡°It is fine,¡± Tulos said, his voice flat- tired, even. There was a rugged slump to his posture, the brief passage of time since Lionel¡¯s arrival insufficient for him to regain his usual vitality. ¡°Do not steal from my time with him, Lionel. Please.¡± He didn¡¯t turn towards us to speak, instead lost in the depths of introspection often found in the middle distance. ¡°Well, I would have to be a scoundrel to deny you.¡± Lionel spoke as if it were business as usual, like any of the myriad afternoons we¡¯d shared when he¡¯d visited last. It was why his next words rang sharply in my ears, for he allowed a flash of severity to color them. ¡°Are you sure? It will not be something he can unlearn.¡± Tulos nodded. ¡°He can handle it. My boy is a Slayer now, after all.¡± ¡°Ha! I can appreciate the sentiment and will even refrain from correcting you by invoking semantics.¡± He cupped a hand around his mouth before addressing me in a stage whisper. ¡°Technically, you are not a Slayer just yet.¡± It wasn¡¯t quite enough to get a laugh from me, but I exhaled air from my nose which seemed to appease Lionel all the same. Fudge, who was lying alongside Vigil, mimicked the reaction by snorting. With the immediate pressure of a stressful situation behind us my favorite bundle of fur was quick to adapt, doubly so now that Aylesbury and Cortez were specks on the horizon. I sensed his growing ease through the Tamer Bond and tried to urge my own emotions to follow the example. It helped. A little. Lionel reached over and tapped Tulos on the knee before using his chin to point in the direction of the house. Tina was there, hesitating, flicking her attention between us and the front door and looking increasingly conflicted. ¡°The baby, I take it? We still have not been introduced.¡± ¡°Marco. He is asleep and-¡± Tulos cut himself off as if just realizing that it was strange for Marco to have slept through the commotion. In his defense, I¡¯d only just come to a similar realization. ¡°He is still safe and asleep,¡± Lionel said, reaching up to tap at one of his ears. ¡°I heard him stirring when I arrived, so I sent him a quick lullaby.¡± Tulos and I, who were both halfway to our feet, relaxed at the news. I turned to call out to Tina. ¡°Mom! Lionel- the Lieutenant says Marco is fine! We can let him sleep!¡± She still hesitated a moment longer. Finally, she responded by holding up a single finger before darting into the house. Fair enough, I thought. In her shoes, I¡¯d probably want to personally double check on the state of my baby as well. When I turned back, Lionel¡¯s face had scrunched up as if he¡¯d been fed a sour lemon. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You are aware that your wonderful mother will suspect I cunningly coerced you into referring to me as Lieutenant and bestow much grief upon me in retribution, yes?¡± His exasperation carried the familiar ring of exaggeration. ¡°Not really,¡± I said. ¡°I was just trying to follow your advice.¡± It was a half-truth and we all knew it. ¡°You did tell him to get in the habit,¡± Tulos added with a rumble. ¡°So I did,¡± Lionel replied in defeat. ¡°Well, then I had best prepare to accept the consequences of my actions. Since I am sure Tina will want an explanation, let us temporarily refrain from addressing my concerns regarding you, Tulos.¡± A brief lull settled over the three of us as we waited, leaving me alone with thoughts of the future, thoughts I lacked the energy or inclination to give the attention they were due. ¡°Is Bella going to be okay?¡± She might have been an annoying, dangerously perceptive child, but even so¡­ I¡¯d grown attached to the kid. I didn¡¯t regret the choices I made, not really, but it was hard not to worry about her. ¡°It depends on her,¡± Lionel said after trying - and failing - to exchange a quick look with Tulos, who was still enamored with the horizon. ¡°Aylesbury spoke truthfully; closer to Sentro- The Capital, most people view service to The Crown as an honor. Even here, I suspect it is only when a parent is forced to confront the prospect of their child having a desirable Core Skill that they question their stance on the matter.¡± Tulos nodded his reluctant agreement to Lionel words.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°It is true,¡± he said. ¡°That does not really answer my question,¡± I said. ¡°No, it does not,¡± Lional agreed. ¡°And I can not answer it, not with any real accuracy. I can tell you that her Build will be nurtured towards a purpose and, to that end, she will have access to some of the best education and resources a person could ever ask for. If she can adapt, she will do well.¡± ¡°What if she can not?¡± ¡°That is when things get complicated.¡± It was Tulos who answered, and I knew he was talking from experience. ¡°Right¡­¡± It didn¡¯t help. I still felt a pang of worry-guilt. ¡°Is it always so¡­ violent?¡± ¡°No,¡± Lionel answered immediately, wearing a frown he did not bother schooling. ¡°That was all Rosita.¡± Even without Bella¡¯s Skill, I got an inkling there were complexities to the situation Lionel was unable, or unwilling, to share. Rosita¡¯s apparent position of prominence among The Crown did not reflect positively on them. Even so, I was willing to reserve judgment until I had a clearer understanding of the situation. Rosita herself would not be granted the same leniency, not that my condemnation meant anything to her. It¡¯d be weird as shit if it did. Simply conjuring the memory of Rosita¡¯s presence was enough to rouse my bubbling loathing. While I held no delusions of successfully storming The Capital and rampaging through a legion of guards to slug her in the face so hard that she shot through a wall and left a Rosita-shaped hole, I¡¯d be lying if I said I didn¡¯t entertain the fantasy. When Tina reemerged from the house, a swaddled Marco was in her arms, still sound asleep. She clutched him close to her chest, her posture looking more protective than affectionate. Vigil still lay curled up nearby, and Lionel had placed a chunk of log near him for Tina to sit on in preparation for her joining us. ¡°How is Vigil doing?¡± I asked when she sat down. The question had been gnawing at me. I wanted to try and comfort the big lug, but I also wanted Tina¡¯s insights first. Tina rested her free hand on Vigil¡¯s side, causing the sleeping dog to kick slightly at the contact. ¡°He will be okay,¡± she said softly. ¡°We both will be. Master Aylesbury helped us.¡± Lionel perked up at that revelation. ¡°What did he do?¡± He asked, leaning forward slightly. ¡°Honestly? I am not entirely sure. It was like¡­ When I told him about what happened to us, he wrote it down, see? The more he wrote, the further away it all felt.¡± She smiled softly at the recent memory. ¡°It was good to see him again.¡± ¡°I do not envy who he decides to deliver that to,¡± Lional said warily. Seeing my confused expression, he continued. ¡°Aylesbury is a courier, remember? This is merely a hypothesis, but I would wager he packaged up your mother¡¯s experience in a letter so that it could be delivered.¡± Well, fuck. Based on what I knew about Skills, it seemed like as reasonable a guess as any. Probably. ¡°Wow¡­¡± ¡°Wow indeed,¡± Lionel said. ¡°Let this be a lesson. Always be respectful to couriers bearing the markings of Drake¡¯s Deliveries. You have just seen a fraction of what their patron is capable of.¡± In response, I just nodded dumbly, trying not to extrapolate what else Aylesbury might be able to use his Skills to accomplish. ¡°Speaking of lessons, could someone please tell me what I missed while I was- When I could not- Could someone please tell me what I missed?¡± Tina looked over the three of us, her eyes lingering on Tulos. ¡°Why are there cuts in your clothes, love?¡± ¡°It might be best if we start at the beginning,¡± Lionel chimed in before Tulos had a chance to answer. No one objected. *** Between Tina, Tulos and I we recounted the events that transpired before Rosita decided to make an example. Tina confirmed that Lianda¡¯s accusations, while not entirely accurate, did touch upon a kernel of truth. It had been unspoken, but she and Tulos had hoped the presence of Bella¡¯s family would distract from their preparations. Given my own selfish choices that day, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to judge them for it. They jeopardized a friendship for my sake. I didn¡¯t ask, but somehow knew they¡¯d make the same choice again in a heartbeat, if they had to. When he took Marco inside, Tulos checked the Mirrorscroll and saw that Lionel had sent a warning. We¡¯d fallen out of the habit of checking it every day, which was a mistake in hindsight. Along with the warning came confirmation that The Slayers were sending someone; a deliberately coy choice of words since Lionel admitted that he¡¯d always intended to come personally. ¡°And that is the last thing I remember before¡­¡± Tina trailed off, not needing to finish the sentiment. ¡°What happened next?¡± A pregnant pause settled over everyone. Lionel and I shifted our attention to Tulos, but he hesitated. The air he¡¯d gathered to speak instead escaped his lips in a deep sigh. In my peripherals, I caught the sight of Tina starting to shift uncomfortably in her seat. ¡°What happened?¡± She repeated, and something about the fragile concern in her voice was enough to break through to Tulos. ¡°I¡­¡± He started, and I saw him clench his fist as if wrestling with words. I knew the feeling. When things were left unsaid, it was easier to pretend they didn¡¯t exist. ¡°Do you need help, dad?¡± I asked, but he just shook his head. ¡°No. It is fine. I will take responsibility.¡± Tulos breathed deeply, such that I saw his torso visibly expand. Again, he sighed, but that time it was not a sigh of defeat. Rather, it was as if his lungs were the bellows stoking his resolve. ¡°I used my Core Skill. I tried to make Rosita stop. I failed.¡± Tina gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand. ¡°Love, you¡­¡± I couldn¡¯t read the complex mix of emotions making their way across my mother¡¯s features. Shock was there, at least, but everything else was beyond me. ¡°There is more to it than that,¡± Lionel said flatly. ¡°Not that I take joy in interrupting the emotional moment.¡± When he next addressed Tulos, it was without his usual mirth. ¡°Have you checked your messages from The System yet?¡± Tulos shook his head in the negative. ¡°Last chance, Tulos. We can still handle this matter privately.¡± ¡°Lionel, you-¡± ¡°Apologies, Tina, but I am willing to be tactless for the sake of preserving my friend¡¯s life.¡± Tina bristled but didn¡¯t otherwise snap back at him. Neither did Tulos, who was hunched over, resting his chin on fists and his elbows on his knees. ¡°They can stay,¡± Tulos repeated, though he glared at Lionel while doing so. ¡°I broke through the bottleneck of Weapons [Axe]. I can Advance to the Second Tier.¡± When the intensity of Lionel¡¯s attention did not relent, he continued. ¡°More than that though¡­ I suspect my Skill has altered.¡± Lionel nodded. ¡°I had assumed as much. Core Skill or not, the restrictions on your use of the Skill were not just born of your own convictions. And yes, before you ask, I pulled some strings to check your records. I wanted to be sure everything was above board, as far as these things go.¡± Despite the gaps in my comprehension, I was able to piece together enough to be suitably shocked by the exchange. I also saw that Tulos loathed having to give voice to the reality of the situation. Tina stood and rushed over to Tulos¡¯ side, leaning down to give him a kiss on the top of his head. Even though Tulos was sitting, she did not have far to lean. She whispered something into his ear, but I did not hear it, nor did I care to. The words were not for me. ¡°Little good it did,¡± Tulos muttered. Defeat was a bitter pill to swallow, even when facing seemingly insurmountable odds. Given what he jeopardized to even make the attempt, I could empathize; I¡¯d be mad too. ¡°Regrets are a heavy burden, Tulos, even for one as strong as you,¡± Lionel cautioned. ¡°Instead, consider the future. Your choice, unfortunately, carries consequences.¡± Tina rounded on Lionel. ¡°Why must you bring this up now?!¡± She reminded me of Lianda in that moment, full of frustrations that needed an outlet. It was Lionel¡¯s turn to draw that ire, and I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if it was by his design. ¡°Tulos is in violation of his agreement with The Crown,¡± Lionel continued, visibly unabashed. ¡°They will seek reparations when it is discovered, and given Rosita¡¯s presence here at the time, I do not doubt she suspects the truth.¡± He did not waver beneath Tina¡¯s scowl. ¡°Lionel. Stop,¡± Tulos said, mustering what fire he could. He guided Tina to his side so that he could give the Slayer Lieutenant his full attention. ¡°You speak of burdens, do not add to mine, not today. Let me enjoy this time with my son.¡± Tina grew suddenly rigid. I¡¯d thought it strange she hadn¡¯t immediately asked about Lionel¡¯s plans for me. Evidently, she¡¯d allowed herself to avoid the issue, willingly or not, right up until Tulos¡¯ words came like a crack of thunder to shatter that illusion. An explanation would be forthright. This is going to suck. Chapter 71 (End of Book 1) ¡°Most people do not chase Advancement. They discover their Core Skill, they Advance two, maybe three times and sometimes a fourth in their twilight years, then they die. Why? One of my favorite theories on the subject blames society and, to an extent, our humanity. Among other things, those of a higher Tier boast a comparatively long lifespan. For those with ties to family and community, the prospect of outliving one¡¯s grandchildren can be a daunting one. It is as if, collectively, we have defaulted to a natural order, of sorts and it is those that find a reason to exist outside of it that are the outliers.¡± ~Unknown Tina took the news about as well as she could have. One can mentally prepare themselves for awful eventualities, but that foreknowledge seldom does little to dull the emotions they inspire, a truth any who have watched a loved one wither from a beige chair parked by a hospital bed could attest to. A grim comparison, perhaps, but an appropriate one; Tina was to be separated from her child, and while one might argue that it was only a temporary arrangement, they could just as easily argue that the uncertainty of life promised no guarantees. When pressed for clarity, Lionel provided it. We would be leaving the following morning. It was not the full day we had been hoping for, for which Tina was the most vocal in her dissatisfaction. ¡®Surely you can give us-¡± ¡°I cannot. Do not ask again. Please.¡± There was no whimsy in Lionel¡¯s retort, and I could tell he took no real joy in his part in proceedings, necessary though they were. It wasn¡¯t long before he excused himself with promises to return after procuring traveling supplies from Elbura. I had wondered how we would manage the logistics of travel, but that was not for me to worry about, not that day, so I didn¡¯t. Instead, I took Lionel¡¯s gesture for what it was, an offer of privacy, of time to spend with my family before we parted ways. It did not escape my notice that he¡¯d also put a temporary plug in his conversation with Tulos. Curiosity demanded I press my father for more details, but with Lionel¡¯s departure came the quiet settling of reality, heavy enough to momentarily smother any questions I might have had. Tomorrow, I¡¯ll be gone. It was a sobering thought. That last day felt like it passed by in a blur. Maybe it did. Vigil stirred, eventually. We showered him with love and praise. Even Tulos gave him an awkward pat on the head, my father¡¯s huge hands probably the only ones among us capable of properly tackling the task. The wound inflicted by Rosita¡¯s needles had already been reduced to a small, red mark; it had not punctured deep enough to threaten any real bodily harm. Bodily harm was never their purpose though. The memory of his tortured yelps, still painfully fresh, promised a long, unwelcome stay in the back of my psyche. I was just happy that he seemed okay, a fact Tina¡¯s reassurances helped me to accept. Whatever Aylesbury did, it was working. Tina periodically passed Marco off to Tulos so that she could pull me into the tightest of tight hugs, each one trying to outdo the hug that came before it. She would whisper how much she loved me and that everything would be okay, so close that I could feel the warmth of her voice just as easily as I heard it. After the second hug, I started whispering the same to her. She almost cried the first time I did. I could tell she wanted to, but no doubt some protective instinct demanded she try to shield me from worry or guilt. Moments. Moments shared. Moments of thought and quiet contemplation. It is a rare thing to remember the entirety of a day, every passing thought or subtle motion. That day was no exception. It was all just moments, and I was determined to hold them close. Tulos expressed regret that our lessons barely touched upon the fundamentals, an unexpected sentiment he refused to elaborate on. Instead, he made me promise that, when we reunited, I would show him what the Slayers taught me. Tina took me to visit the kennels, where dozens of dogs eagerly greeted her as if earlier events were already lost to the annals of memory. I¡¯d wondered why they hadn¡¯t rushed to inject themselves in the conflict with Rosita, to which Tina explained their absence as a function of the training instilled into them; unless called upon or given the commands associated with their livestock protection role, they would remain in the kennel. ¡°So why not call them?¡± I asked while giving Vix a scratch behind the ears. Of all the dogs, she was the one who seemed the most reserved in her affections, opting to saunter towards us instead of galloping like the wall of fur that constituted the other kennel occupants. The tail she lost had started growing back over the years, but it was a slow process and even then it still lacked the fullness of the one she lost. ¡°It would not have helped,¡± Tina replied while running a brush through Vigil¡¯s fur. ¡°These dogs will give their life protecting a herd or family, but what then? If you can run, you run. If you can hide, you hide. If you can do neither, then their sacrifice would not amount to much, see? At best, they serve as a deterrent.¡± She sighed deeply. ¡°They would not have deterred Rosita.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± Vix sharply swished her tails, making me cognizant of the fact that I¡¯d stopped giving her attention. Reserved though she may have been, when Vix decided she wanted affection, System forbid it be denied to her. Fudge was busying himself playing with some of the younger dogs so I was more than happy to oblige, and so the day continued. I spent time with Marco during his waking moments, trying to decide if I would miss him or not. There was still little to distinguish him from any other baby, so I rationalized that there wouldn¡¯t be much to miss. Instead, I would miss being there to watch my brother slowly become a person. I¡¯d see him, sure, in the same way I¡¯d seen the children of my friends a few times every year and comment how much they¡¯d grown in the interim. What would I be to Marco? Could I really be his brother if I wasn¡¯t there? Will it be better that I am not around? An old concern, but one I finally had the ability to confront. Compared to me, Marco had the potential for a regular childhood. The less I was involved, the less chance I had of disrupting that, not only for his sake, but for my parents as well. I had an opportunity to start gradually distancing myself from them. I just wasn¡¯t sure if I should. You plan to leave them anyway, I told myself. It wasn¡¯t as convincing an argument as I hoped it would be. Lionel eventually returned, a large pack slung over each shoulder that would have been impossible for him to so casually manage without the inherent benefits of Advancement. There was a grace to his movements, as if he were guided by a song only he could hear. A subtle thing, but knowing what I knew about Lionel¡¯s Build gave the quality deeper meaning in my speculations. I pulled up the System window summarizing my own Skills.
Perseverance Level 12/20 Taming [Fudge] Level 10/10 Recovery Level 9/10
Oh hey, Perseverance finally hit Level 12, I thought idly. Evidently the encounter with Rosita had been enough to push it over the edge. My progress with the Advanced Skill remained glacial when reliant upon the repetitive strain of routine. The proficiency points still trickled in, but I was nearing the limit of what I could accomplish on my own. That, more than anything, helped me remain optimistic about the days and weeks to come. Tina and Tulos were well versed on The System, so far as I could tell, but the resources Lionel could give me access to would no doubt trump them. In loss, I would gain, and in doing so I would move one step closer to an answer. I thought I knew what the question was. Some days I grew less certain, but that was no excuse to stop. I couldn¡¯t. Wouldn¡¯t. Since I was leaving Elbura I decided I also wanted to leave something positive behind me. Lionel continued to give us privacy, even after his return, instead opting to sit by himself and go over what appeared to be a stack of notes. I made no attempt at disguising my approach. Even without Fudge trotting alongside me I knew I had no way of escaping Lionel¡¯s ear. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°Bold of you to squander your time with me,¡± Lionel said when I was within earshot. He did not look up from the pages in his hand. ¡°What can I do for you, Will?¡± ¡°I would like some paper.¡± ¡°To what end?¡± ¡°Dad is going to Advance, right?¡± ¡°Answering a question with a question, are we?¡± ¡°You mean just like you did?¡± ¡°Careful, now. It requires great restraint not to waste one¡¯s time with wordplay, and I would rather spare myself the exertion.¡± ¡°So answer the question.¡± At that, Lionel looked up and rolled his eyes at me. ¡°Very well, I shall acquiesce. The situation with your father is a delicate one. Just because he can Advance does not mean he should and no, I will not take up more time than necessary to explain the details. Now I will reiterate - to what end do you ask?¡± ¡°I have Recovery. I was going to write down how I thought about the Skill when I was given the option. That way dad might¡­¡± I trailed off. ¡°Ah. I see,¡± Lionel said with a quick nod. ¡°You understand there are no guarantees with such things and, by all accounts, I am still not sure how you were able to qualify for the Skill in the first place.¡± He gave me an appraising look. ¡°It could very well be you are a savant in that regard, and your notes will only confuse the issue.¡± ¡°I still want to try.¡± Images of Tulos, riddled with cuts, flashed through my mind. ¡°Very well.¡± Lionel pulled a pair of blank sheets from his pile and handed them to me. ¡°Now go back to your family. We will have ample time to talk while traveling, so do not waste the time you have here.¡± ¡°You could join us,¡± I offered. ¡°You do not get the chance to visit us much, and I know you and dad are friends so-¡± ¡°I appreciate your offer, Will, but no. Today is not a day for me to reminisce with a friend.¡± At that, he turned his attention back to whatever he was working on and I took the dismissal for what it was. ¡°Okay. Thanks again, uncle Lionel.¡± As I turned to head back towards the house I whistled for Fudge to follow. He¡¯d busied himself snapping at his own tail while Lionel and I spoke, so it seemed prudent lest he get lost in the chase. Even without watching him, I recognized the excited blend of sensations making their way through the Tamer Bond. Naturally, when I returned to my parents they were quick to notice my efforts, largely in part because I had to ask them to fetch me the ink and quill pen from their resting place. ¡°Please, dad. I want to do this for you,¡± I said when my request was met with hesitation. Tina was uncharacteristically quiet, instead deferring entirely to Tulos on the matter. She¡¯d been occupied by subconscious tapping and knee bouncing all day, so it was difficult to rely on her usual tells to discern her thoughts on the matter. Tulos seemed to half-start a dozen different replies; the quiet certainty I¡¯d come to expect from him suddenly absent when faced with the topic of his Advancement. ¡°Okay.¡± It was not just permission to write down my insights, I knew - that alone wouldn¡¯t have warranted such contemplation. From Tulos, that single word was a promise to try and make use of what I wrote, if he could. Perhaps it was the fact that it was a request from his son on our last day together, or maybe it was something else. I couldn¡¯t tell, and I wasn¡¯t tactless enough to ask. There would be no erasing and no time for do-overs. I had to write and I had to write quickly. Much of the scientific vocabulary I knew lacked a translation into the local language, so far as I could tell, so I had to get creative. I needed to convey the broad strokes of cell theory in a way that could have come from the mind of a child. As I sat staring at the blank page, the rash nature of my goal finally cut through the blanket of sentimentality that had settled on me as the day progressed. I might have bitten off more than I can chew. In the end, I erred on the side of caution. I broke the body down into parts like arms and legs and explained that I imagined the body could be broken down into many, many, smaller parts and each part helped the body by working together. I spoke about feeling tired and how rest and food helped me get energy. I explained that if the body used energy to be awake and move then it also probably used energy to heal. Reading it back to myself, it felt¡­ insulting. Without mentioning the inner workings of cells and their role in the function of the human body the explanation felt too childish - the kind of thing any sensible adult could reasonably conclude on their own. Then again, there were also large swaths of history in which germ theory as I know it wasn¡¯t a thing, so what do I know? I set down the quill with a sigh. ¡°Finished. I hope it helps.¡± It was hard to feel satisfied with a job done poorly. I comforted myself by saying it was better than nothing but even that felt like a stretch. The afternoon turned to evening. We shared memories. We laughed. We made promises and gave reassurances. We all helped cook dinner and even when night was upon us a shared reluctance to turn in hung heavy in the atmosphere. As Will, I was never one to crawl into my parent¡¯s bed. It was my understanding that children did so when they felt scared or otherwise needed parental comfort. I instead prioritized giving Tina and Tulos their privacy, but in hindsight it was just another child rearing experience my adult mind denied them. I decided to make an exception, and when I asked if I could stay with them overnight I was met with emphatic approval from Tina and quiet acceptance from Tulos. After the day I¡¯d had, exhaustion lurked on the edge of perception, promising an easy slumber if I invited it in. I wondered if Tina and Tulos would sleep. Tina was hugging me and holding me close, and I somehow knew that letting go in the morning would be one of the hardest things she¡¯d ever have to do. Tulos was on his back, hands beneath his head and staring at the ceiling. In the quiet of night, thoughts held back by the day would demand attention as they wormed their way into the forefront of the mind. I could only empathize with him. It was why exhaustion¡¯s offer was so tempting. I could banish it with Perseverance, but to do so would be to invite every doubt and regret I¡¯d ever had. How would Bella be faring, alone in a strange new place? Would she sleep? I never was able to figure out how to transfer the benefits of Recovery to someone else. I¡¯d failed Jusep, and while I knew I would return with the knowledge one day, it felt like I was abandoning a responsibility. Mana stirred in my core and with a dangerous sounding creak the bed dipped under the sudden weight of Fudge who leapt onto the already too full bed. SAFE. The feeling came through with stubborn clarity as Fudge ignored the startled protests of Tulos and Tina. He curled up over the foot of the bed and stretched out his neck to rest his head on my leg. SAFE. The sentiment was clear to me. Everything would be okay. I let myself be absorbed in the feelings of love and affection coming from the Tamer Bond. Fudge would watch over me. Everything would be okay. I could rest. I did. *** It was raining in the morning. I slept through the night. Fudge stirred when I did, having not left his post the entire night; I could only imagine that Tina and Tulos did not have the most comfortable of sleeps, if they even slept at all. A quick burst of mana banished any lingering tiredness from my mind. The gentle pattering of raindrops against. The smell of damp soil. The rains promised rejuvenation and regrowth. They would wash away the remnants of the day before, and soon it would only be a distant memory. Such was the way of rain, it washed away the old to welcome the new. It was a thief, a marauder and yet people often welcomed it - prayed for it, even. I used to love the rain. A part of me still did. There were some things that needed to be cleansed, and to walk through the rain was to feel connected to something¡­ more, something ancient and ineffable. Rain also made mud. My clothing and a collection of other trinkets were stowed in a pack, and it was not long before Lionel knocked on our door. No doubt he¡¯d heard when we were ready. The shoes I wore were good shoes. Sturdy shoes. I felt them sink slightly into the mud but my feet remained dry. In leaving Elbura, countless opportunities would present themselves to me. In loss, I would find something new. I would learn. I would grow. I would Advance. Lionel offered my parents what reassurances he could, though we all knew they would sound hollow. Tina and Tulos repeated the same farewells we¡¯d shared a dozen times the day before, and that time when Tina hugged me Tulos knelt down into the muck to gather us both into his massive arms, squeezing tight enough that it bordered on uncomfortable. No one told him to stop. Farewells are hard. That first turn, that first step, they weigh on a person. It is as if the connection between two people tries to pull them back together. I knew that turning back would be a mistake. It was hard not to. I kept my chin high and my face forward as my world for the last decade shrunk behind me. I was going to miss them. I knew that lingering on that thought would only cause me strife, so I endeavored to focus on the future. The irony was not lost on me, so when the rain picked up I did not dignify it with an answer. Fuck the rain. Book 2 | Chapter 1 Blank pages are often the most daunting. They harbour expectations and silently judge all who dare hesitate before them. I felt that judgement, that weighing of character as my favourite quill hovered just above the surface of the stained inkwell, now full, carved into my desk. There was no time for hesitation, or rather, no time I wanted to waste on it. I dipped the nib, scraped the excess, and wrote the first word.
Marco,
A single name, a simple address, a perfectly ordinary way to open a letter. The mere act of writing it, of starting, failed to inspire an outpouring of words; there was no sudden muse, no certainty in how to proceed, just the shattered remains of a fragile hope that there might have been, a hope I¡¯d not even dignified with false confidence. I leaned back with a sigh, feeling the familiar shifting of the chair beneath me. One of the legs was ever-so-slightly too short, a rare imperfection, a grounding one. ¡°I do not suppose you have any input?¡± I craned my head to stare back at the large bed in the centre of the room. Fudge had rolled onto his back and splayed his legs out in a tangle of directions. While it did not look even remotely comfortable to me, it seemed to satisfy him just fine. Fudge, being a dog, did not answer save to harrumph at my audacity, for I dared to interrupt his nap. The bed groaned beneath his weight as he made a show of repositioning himself. It was a sight that cheered me up, if nothing else. Unfortunately, the content of the letter remained a puzzle for me alone. I stood. Perhaps leaving the desk was counterproductive, but sitting at it fruitlessly was worse. Seeking some justification for my cowardice, I retrieved the elegant watering pot from its place by the window and made a show of tending to the plants. Well over a dozen of the small, potted things were scattered around my room. Some had flowers, some merely had leaves - there was even a small, round cactus that made me roll my eyes when I remembered the story behind it. Each plant was different, save for the blue ribbon tied around their respective pots, though even those each carried their own flair in how they were wrapped, curled and otherwise presented. In my coming absence, I knew they would be cared for by the dormitory staff, but it was important I shouldered that responsibility in the meantime. Such was the burden of youth. Where do I even begin? That was the crux of the matter, really. In the top draw of my desk sat the most recent letter I¡¯d received from home. According to Tina, Marco was asking questions about his absent big brother and, perhaps appropriately, wanted to learn about him straight from the horse¡¯s mouth. I hadn¡¯t realized I was even a notable topic of conversation back home, but in hindsight it wasn¡¯t that surprising. For all that I had put them through, my parents remained my most steadfast supporters - of course they told Marco stories about me. How old must he be now? Five, I think. I¡¯d probably barely recognize him when I saw him next. By all accounts, we were strangers to one another - not that I¡¯d done much to mitigate that reality. ¡°Where do I even begin?¡± Saying it aloud didn¡¯t magically help, but I had to begin somewhere. I spared a quick glance at the water clock - without which I would have missed far too many classes - and suppressed a groan. I was going to be late, no doubt vexing Sera in the process. That¡¯s going to be a hassle. Fuck it. I slammed back into my chair and started to write. Marco surely heard plenty of stories about my early childhood, but a lot had happened since I left Elbura. Since I couldn¡¯t decide where to begin, I¡¯d just start there. -0-0-0-0-0- A field full of jagged stumps stood sentry around the bizarre structure at its centre, where felled trees were haphazardly stacked in a loose mound. The limbs had not been removed. The bark had not been stripped. There was no craftsmanship, only the savaged ends that could have each been paired to a matching stump. The entire thing brought to mind a half-assed beaver dam - minus the river. Nestled at the base of the structure was an opening that could only be described as the entrance to a burrow. It was a burrow large enough for a grizzly bear to saunter into without risk of scuffing their fur, but a burrow all the same. From my position at the fringe of the artificial clearing, there wasn¡¯t much more I could discern about the den, not that I was especially eager to get closer. Even if I had been, a dog-shaped wall stood between me and reckless curiosity. Fudge was on edge. His ears were tucked low, his hackles were raised, and his unease rang through the Tamer Bond clear as a bell. Easy boy, Lionel is going to take care of it, I thought. Feelings of calm reassurance accompanied my words, effortlessly carried by Taming [Fudge] to the dog in question. Fudge relaxed ever so slightly but I could only do so much when, to his senses, danger was all but imminent. ¡°Fudge is nervous,¡± I whispered to the air, knowing full well that Lionel¡¯s ridiculously sensitive hearing would catch it. The Slayer Lieutenant was slowly making his way towards the hole in the ground. Slowly. Not carefully - at least not so far as I could see. I¡¯d have gone so far to say he was strolling, though frustratingly the second he¡¯d stepped out into the clearing his footfalls refused to make a single sound. ¡°Fudge is also going to have to acclimate to the presence of imposing predators,¡± came Lionel¡¯s immediate reply. The sound seemed to originate from a point close to my ear, another casual application of power that left me increasingly curious as to the full contents of Lionel¡¯s list of Skills. ¡°Just because you are right does not mean I have to like seeing him like this,¡± I countered. For all that I could ¡®talk¡¯ with Fudge, the nuance of language remained beyond him. ¡°Your discomfort has been noted.¡± Lionel stopped walking when he was still a good distance away from the entrance to the den and spared a quick look over his shoulder. ¡°Just be sure to pay attention. This is a lesson for you as well.¡± ¡°I will, and I know.¡± Travelling by foot was, by and large, an exercise in tedium. The opportunity to watch Lionel in action was a welcome one, even if it meant a slight detour. A planned detour, at that. ¡°Do you remember what this Beast is called?¡± Lionel had given me a brief rundown of the situation the day before. ¡°Tehon,¡± I replied quickly. A few weeks prior, it had decimated a herd of cattle belonging to one of the nearby villages. ¡°Good. They indulge in significant slumber between meals so we¡¯re going to rouse it to draw it out. I would advise against venturing into the den of a tehon under all but the most dire of circumstances.¡± Without additional fanfare or waiting for my response, a sharp whistle emanated from Lionel. Fudge started to whine as it grew increasingly high pitched, beyond the range of normal human hearing. ¡°Lionel, Fudge-¡± ¡°Will have to get used to discomfort.¡± Lionel¡¯s voice cut me off. He could have spared Fudge but decided not to. It was hard not to feel a lump of spite at that fact despite being able to acknowledge the wisdom in Lionel¡¯s reasoning. A thunderous roar emerged from the den, having echoed through its depths. ¡°It¡¯s awake,¡± Lionel noted. No shit. Fudge started emitting a low, rumbling growl that I felt through our contact. I barked a quick command to bring him to heel. He obeyed, but a renewed wave of unease and frustration poured into me through the Tamer Bond. He¡¯ll get over it, I told myself. The last thing we needed was to accidently draw attention to ourselves. ¡°Now, watch how it exits.¡± Lionel maintained an almost casual cadence despite the increasingly distressing noises emerging from the ground. Following the instruction, I strained against the distance and shadows cast by the not-dam. Mana from Perseverance answered the call, flowing to my eyes to combat the difficulty of my objective. A stretch of the Skill¡¯s purview, perhaps, but close enough that my mana wasn¡¯t wasted by the effort. Seconds passed, and my vision grew increasingly accustomed to piercing the dim just in time to witness the tehon emerge. Rather, its rump emerged. Unlike the savage, head-first charge I was anticipating, a shaggy mound of black fur backed up out of the den. Squat, stocky legs barely compromised the silhouette of the tehon as it moved. A round stub of a tail was the only irregularity to the shape; if not for the sheer size of the Beast, the whole affair would have almost been comical. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Beasts in the second Tier are not graced with intellect like people are, but they possess a sort of savage cunning. Despite its rage, the tehon moves with caution, for now,¡± Lionel continued his commentary of the situation. ¡°I take it they are well defended from the rear, then?¡± ¡°That, young Will, would be an understatement.¡± I was certain I¡¯d once heard of mundane animals employing similar strategies but it must have been in passing since the details escaped me. The casual trivia I¡¯d collected from my first life was often less useful than I wanted it to be. A bitter truth, but a truth all the same. The tehon paused when most of its body was exposed. Had its intimidation been successful, if there had been no further sign of confrontation or irritation, perhaps that would have been the end of it. As it was, Lionel simply whistled again, prompting another roar that made my lizard brain spark like a firecracker screaming ¡®danger¡¯. ¡°Now that we have elevated the tehon to a suitable degree of anger, it is going to charge at me,¡± Lionel explained even as the beast in question spun to face the target of its ire, sending up massive clumps of dirt in the process. It roared again, and that time I had the displeasure of seeing it from the front. The bulldog equivalent of a grizzly, the tehon looked like someone had squashed the face of a bear in on itself. Its lips were folded back and spraying spittle, revealing a mouth full of predatory teeth that I didn¡¯t bother trying to count. Its forelegs ended in a set of massive claws, each longer than a grown man¡¯s forearm. Much to my horror, they were neither unwieldy nor an impediment to the tehon¡¯s ability to accelerate; it closed on Lionel in the span of seconds. Lionel jumped, easily clearing the Tehon. Carried forward by its momentum, the tehon scrambled to stop and pivot, and I noticed it- ¡°Notice how it is slow to turn,¡± Lionel¡¯s voice chimed in as he fell into an easy landing, his knees barely bending from the impact. ¡°I saw,¡± I said quickly, not wanting to distract him. Confident though Lionel may have been, I was all too aware that a seemingly routine day could turn to tragedy. One of my hands maintained a firm hold of Fudge¡¯s scruff, a constant reminder that he was to stay put. Twice more the tehon charged at Lionel; twice more he avoided it as he had before. It reminded me of a bullfighter, or at least the representations I saw in cartoons as a child. The sound of Lionel¡¯s whistle was aggravating enough that the tehon rushed from one charge to another, too blinded by rage to do anything else. ¡°When you do this with a team, you will want to have concluded affairs by the end of the first engagement,¡± Lionel said amidst the acrobatic display. ¡°Despite my brilliance, a direct swipe from a tehon would still leave me incapacitated - if not decapitated - should misfortune strike.¡± ¡°Finish it then,¡± I snapped. ¡°Can you not tempt fate?¡± Even so, I pushed more mana to my eyes and tried to commit the creature''s movements to memory. If Lionel was dragging things out, it had to be for my benefit. There was a sudden shift to the air as the sounds around me grew muted. I no longer heard Lionel¡¯s whistle, the rip and tear of the underbrush beneath the tehon¡¯s weight, nothing. ¡°Try not to move,¡± Lionel¡¯s voice instructed, the only noise he allowed to exist. Blinded by aggression, the tehon was in the middle of another frontal assault when it abruptly reeled as if struck. Lionel faced the Beast directly, a look of concentration on his face and his lips curled into a new whistle. The effects were immediate. The tehon reared back to unleash a silent roar and begun frantically slamming the side of its head into the ground, as if trying to push straight into the earth. Its paws pulled up and frantically swiped at its face. Its body heaved and thrashed yet I did not hear a single sound. The seconds dragged on, and I could not look away from the torturous execution, for there was no other way to describe what I was seeing. At one point, the tehon¡¯s claws sliced into its own face, and I could not tell if it was accidental or not. It gave one final spasm then slumped, falling still. Dead. What the actual fuck¡­ Bile gathered at the back of my throat, but I mercifully did not lose my breakfast. Sound snapped back into existence. Fudge bristled. Despite his own confusion at the silent world, he sensed my discomfort and searched for its source. ¡°What did you do to it?¡± I asked, croaking slightly as the words passed through my suddenly dry throat. Lionel was still several paces away, but I knew he¡¯d heard me clearly. ¡°Tehon have sensitive hearing,¡± he reiterated his earlier point. ¡°It makes them vulnerable to my Skills.¡± Lionel had abandoned all of his verbosity. His voice was devoid of its usual cheer. The explanation aligned with my own conclusions, but I took no joy in that fact. ¡°It was in pain,¡± I said flatly. ¡°It was.¡± ¡°Could you have killed it differently?¡± ¡°I could have.¡± ¡°Then why-¡± ¡°Because it was the method I knew would be most effective. It placed me, and those under my care, in the least amount of danger.¡± A question I suspected I already knew the answer to burned in the back of my throat. Lionel seemed to notice as much, and he looked at me expectantly. Patiently. ¡°Then why risk dragging out the encounter in the first place? Why risk it to teach me?¡± ¡°The experience might save your life one day. It was a calculated risk.¡± He finally closed the distance and crouched down in front of me so that we were looking eye-to-eye. ¡°That was not my only motivation, though. I wanted to - no, needed to show you how quickly these situations can turn ugly. This time, it was for the tehon. Next time, it might be for me, or for you, when you become a Slayer proper.¡± Memories flashed to the forefront of my mind. Two young children in the forest''s edge. A predator. The screams. The screams¡­ ¡°I already know that¡­¡± My voice was barely above a whisper. ¡°I know,¡± Lionel said. ¡°I needed to remind you, though, because you cannot ever let yourself forget or grow lax - even when it would make you more comfortable to do so.¡± He reached out to grab a hold of my shoulder, hesitating only briefly when Fudge tensed in response to the action. ¡°This is what you have signed up for. Slayers have a lot of freedoms, but that freedom comes at a cost.¡± Lionel sighed before continuing. ¡°We do not normally recruit people until they are close to adulthood, so I know this is not fair, but feeding you disillusionment would only do you a disservice.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but smile softly as his language started to shift back towards its usual extravagance. There was a comfort to be found in the familiar. ¡°I appreciate it, I think, but why tell me this now? Back home you already told us-¡± ¡°Today I did not merely tell you, I showed you, which is an important distinction. Words alone often do little to sway a young man¡¯s mind. Having once been one myself, I can assure you I am well qualified to comment on the subject.¡± The hand on my shoulder reached over it to pat me on the back a few times. ¡°For the record, you handled yourself well.¡± ¡°I¡­ thank you,¡± I muttered, casting my gaze down. I had mixed feelings about the praise. How much pride should one take in their ability to bear witness to brutality? ¡°To answer your question properly, though, it was so that I might bestow you with another opportunity to change course, away from prying eyes and ears.¡± My head snapped up at that. ¡°Explain. Please.¡± ¡°It will cost me, but I can still renegate on your recruitment,¡± Lionel said as if he were commenting on the weather, which more than anything made me suspect he was understating the gravity of his offer. ¡°So what, I would go to The Crown?¡± ¡°If you want to, but I could also look into other options. Having sidestepped conscription already, you will have more flexibility if we are careful.¡± My mind went into overdrive as I struggled to digest the revelation. As I tried weighing options I knew shockingly little about, there was only one question that came to mind. ¡°Do I have to answer you right now?¡± At that, Lionel grinned. ¡°You do not, and I am pleased you did not rush into a decision. You have until you become a Slayer proper, which given your age will be at least six years from now.¡± He held up a finger. ¡°However, the longer you wait, the fewer options you will have.¡± ¡°I see. Thank you, Uncle Lionel.¡± I had time. For now, that was enough. ¡°Do not thank me yet, I have another condition.¡± His eyes grew harsh. ¡°If I hear that you are slacking off while with the Slayers, then you may consider this offer rescinded. While you remain one of our apprentices, I expect you to give it your all. I think you have what it takes, or else I would not have offered to recruit you in the first place. No free rides. Do I make myself clear?¡± ¡°Yes, I-¡± ¡°You mean ¡®Yes Lieutenant!¡¯¡± Lionel snapped. ¡°Yes Lieutenant!¡± I called back and made an effort to stand with my back straight. ¡°Much better, recruit,¡± Lionel replied approvingly, a smile on his face again. ¡°Now come on, I will demonstrate how one should harvest from a tehon. Valuable components await and we will claim them for The Slayers.¡± He gestured for me to follow as he walked back into the clearing. Somewhere in the middle of that conversation I¡¯d almost forgotten that the carcass of a massive Beast lurked in my peripherals. Huh¡­ maybe I am well suited to this. I pushed the conflicting thought to the side and moved to follow Lionel. Fudge was quick to join us, his tongue lolling happily now that the tension between Lionel and I had mostly evaporated. Book 2 | Chapter 2 ¡°Thank you, Slayer, you have done our village a great service.¡± There was an air of grateful ceremony to the village head¡¯s words. Unlike the elderly Hwan, he was closer to middle aged, at a glance. Lionel and I were standing in the village square and I could not help but note the similarities it shared with Elbura. Same wooden buildings, same general layout, just a lot of the same, really. Well, there is one glaring difference, I suppose. The exterior walls of the buildings were all decorated with what could only be described as intricate murals detailing scenes from the surrounding area. The cattle prized by the local farmers featured heavily in the designs that ranged from heavily stylistic to bordering on hyper realistic. I could only assume one of the locals had some type of artistic Skill, not that I planned to pry. ¡°It was simply my duty, though your thanks is appreciated all the same,¡± Lionel replied smoothly. We¡¯d drawn a small crowd upon our return as people wanted to be among the first to learn of the tehon¡¯s fate. Understandable, given the damage it had already inflicted on the village¡¯s livelihood. Delighted murmurs rippled through the audience as word spread of our success. A grin made its way onto Lionel¡¯s face, for he no doubt heard more than one whispered comment that served to stroke his ego. As if to prove my point, he turned his head slightly and winked over my head to a section of people. ¡°Always so popular?¡± I asked with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Let it simply be said that the bardic life I shunned did not abscond with all of its perks.¡± I just rolled my eyes and checked on Fudge while Lionel exchanged a few more pleasantries with the village head. We¡¯d fashioned a makeshift harness for Fudge so that he might transport our spoils from the tehon. Thankfully, we did not go digging into the Beast¡¯s torso searching for some kind of ¡®beast stone¡¯ - one of the few times I¡¯d been glad my literary expectations proved irrelevant. Instead, Lionel removed its two front paws. ¡°Why not remove the claws if they are all we need?¡± I asked at the time. ¡°Such a task can be performed incorrectly, and I am not Skilled in such matters,¡± was Lionel¡¯s reply, and I couldn¡¯t really argue with the logic. The tightly bound claws and paws were still secured and Fudge remained unbothered by their weight. Thank you mana. Though, given Fudge¡¯s size, part of me wanted to believe he¡¯d have managed fine even without it. As I attended to him, I caught more than one of the locals looking pointedly at Fudge. Given the opalescent sheen to his otherwise charcoal fur, Lionel and I had come to peace with the reality that Fudge would be a spectacle in some fashion wherever we passed through a place. It wasn¡¯t just Fudge, though. Picking up individual snippets of muttered conversation from the crowd was beyond my usual abilities, which made it a useful training ground for Perseverance. Mana from the Skill flowed to my ears. I doubted it even came close to what Lionel could casually accomplish, but I was still able to catch the occasional curious exchange regarding the ¡®child Slayer¡¯. Wild that that¡¯s the conclusion they¡¯re jumping to, I thought wryly. Evidently the rumour mill dictated the most exciting possibilities reign supreme. Not that they¡¯re entirely wrong, I suppose. ¡°Of course, we will graciously accept your generous hospitality,¡± Lionel replied to the village head. It was enough to draw my attention back to their conversation, since the promise of sleeping on a bed was an enticing one. Rather, I was excited to sleep without a stone lodged in my- ¡°Splendid! You will stay at the Heffer¡¯s Cup.¡± The village head waved over a rotund man in an apron, presumably the innkeeper, whose barely concealed annoyance made it clear he had not been consulted before the offer was made. ¡°It was certainly generous of the village head to foot your stay at my establishment,¡± he said flatly. ¡°The rooms, they be expensive this time of year.¡± The village head smiled a politician''s smile that did not quite reach his eyes before the pair devolved into a few rounds of double speak and barbed words I did not care to get involved in. Instead, I let my attention return to the locals who watched the bickering as if it were a regular occurrence. That seems about right. -0-0-0-0-0- ¡°To the Slayer!¡± ¡°TO THE SLAYER!¡± I¡¯d stopped counting how many times that same toast had been repeated. Its popularity had not diminished in the slightest, for every time it was called dozens of voices would echo its cry and drink deeply from their cups. An impromptu celebration had spawned from Lionel¡¯s decision to stay, the locals having jumped on the opportunity to vent their worries and frustrations for the weeks spent in uncertainty. Barrels of booze were rolled out of cellars, animals were slaughtered to roast, and countless special preserves and treats were shared freely. More than one old farmer took to the stage - a few planks of wood stacked over some barrels - and led a chorus of drunken voices in folksong. It was awful. That is to say, it was awful for me. While Lionel got to indulge in drink and food and praise and dance I was left to my own devices. Free from overt adult supervision, I was finally an approachable enough entity for the local children to brave. A new toy. Again. Awful. I harboured a slim hope that keeping Fudge nearby might dissuade some of the more cautious brats from invading my general area. That hope was almost immediately dashed. If anything, it might have only persuaded them to waddle over in a group instead of individually, as if drawing upon some instinctual understanding that there was safety in numbers. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°What is the dog¡¯s name?¡± A girl missing one of her front teeth asked me. She was probably younger than me, but honestly once they grew beyond toddlers, young children existed in a liminal state where just about any appearance could correlate to any age. ¡°His name is Fudge,¡± I answered for the fourth time. It wasn¡¯t that that particular girl had asked four times, simply that she hadn¡¯t been paying proper attention when I answered that same question three separate times earlier in the conversation. There were almost a dozen kids crowded around me, the eldest of which bore the awkward countenance of their early teenage years. I¡¯d decided to sit with my back against Fudge¡¯s side while he chewed on a large bone gifted to him by one of the villagers; he balanced the thing upright between his two front paws and came at it from the side which didn¡¯t seem at all practical but I wasn¡¯t about to argue the point with him. ¡°Is it twue you helped kill the monsta?¡± After dancing around a few benign questions about Fudge and myself one of the youngest abandoned tact and asked the question through a mop of messy hair, the question they probably all wanted to ask from the beginning. Well, almost all of them. One of the boys had been looking at Fudge with ¡®I want to touch the dog¡¯ eyes for a long while. Unless he mustered the courage to ask on his own, I had no intention of interrupting Fudge¡¯s chew-time. ¡°It is not,¡± I answered simply, even as a few of the older children hushed and scolded their younger companion. ¡°I just watched. Slayer Lionel subdued the tehon on his own.¡± ¡°What is sub-dood?¡± One of the kids asked and it was all I could do not to groan in exasperation. ¡°Killed,¡± I said bluntly, parroting their limited vocabulary back at them. More than one nodded their heads in sudden understanding and I was once again reminded why I never wanted to have kids - they were exhausting. ¡°Why does your dog look funny?¡± It was the missing-tooth girl again. ¡°You think he looks funny?¡± I asked with a raised eyebrow. An idea struck me, and I endeavored to send a memory of Fudge growling down the Tamer Bond. It was not just a memory, though, it was a request. I felt my mana stir as Taming [Fudge] turned my intent into something more, something magic, and I was rewarded by the sound and sensation of Fudge¡¯s growl rumbling through my back. A dozen faces blanched and more than one of the children inched away from she-who-seemingly-provoked-the-massive-dog¡¯s-ire. Good boy, I thought back to Fudge, sending my mischievous approval through the bond. Fudge was confused but glad for the praise. He thumped his tail a few times before returning his attention to the bone. I didn¡¯t have much time to be pleased with myself, though. The frozen shock on the young girl¡¯s face quickly turned into the frightened welling of tears. ¡°No, no, you do not need to cry,¡± I quickly said and waved my hands as if to shoo the oncoming emotions. ¡°Fudge was just playing. Just joking. See?¡± I blew a raspberry and made a show of scrambling my palms over Fudge¡¯s fur. ¡°You are a weird kid.¡± I was rescued by one of the other children whose words elicited a round of giggles at my expense from the gathered gaggle, including the girl I accidentally frightened. I just sighed, content to take the criticism if it meant averting disaster. System forbid I try to amuse myself at the expense of a- Okay, yeah, I see how I deserve this. An ultimately harmless prank? Probably, but the kid didn¡¯t know that. I suddenly reminded myself of that one uncle who took things a little too far into the realm of irresponsible and- A quick bit of mental math made me wince. Fuck, I¡¯m over 40 at this point. Mentally, at least. With the novelty of Fudge and myself starting to wear off - as was often the case with children who have spent more than a few minutes on the same topic - smaller groups and conversations began to form, leaving me with a respite with which to ponder my advanced years. Yeah, screw that. That way madness lay, so I leaned back and took a moment to review my Skills.
Perseverance Level 12/20 Taming [Fudge] Level 10/10 Recovery Level 9/10
Recovery Level 9/10 Current Proficiency Points: 892/900
Recovery was on the verge of hitting its first bottleneck, which meant planning for the Skill¡¯s Advancement. That, in turn. meant a conversation with Lionel. Sure, I had my own ideas, but I¡¯d gathered he¡¯d have an insight or two on the matter. By all accounts the man is a prodigy based on my understanding of things, assuming he¡¯s roughly the same age as my dad which- It occurred to me that I didn¡¯t actually know how old Lionel was. Given his friendship with Tulos, I¡¯d just figured they were roughly the same age but, in hindsight, that didn¡¯t actually need to be the case. I added it to my ever-growing mental list of mysteries and decided it didn¡¯t change my conclusion all that much; it would still be worth seeking Lionel¡¯s guidance on matters of Advancement. ¡°So¡­ why is your dog fun- different looking?¡± A different kid¡¯s sudden question interrupted my thoughts and, once again, I sighed. It¡¯s going to be a long night. -0-0-0-0-0- It was, indeed, a long night, one cut blissfully short when I excused myself to the room provided to Lionel and I, leaving earlier than was probably proper. As expected, Fudge and I had the entire place to ourselves until morning. As to what Lionel was up to and who was accompanying him at the time¡­ none of my business, really. ¡°Rise and shine, Will! The road beckons us, the siren that she is.¡± That isn¡¯t to say I couldn¡¯t make an educated guess. I wasn¡¯t quite that dense. Lionel¡¯s call spawned beside my ear as I indulged in the comfort of the mattress. ¡°Can the bed be a siren instead?¡± I groaned into my pillow, knowing full well he¡¯d be able to hear. The sound of my voice was enough to stir Fudge, and through the Tamer Bond I was increasingly aware of his need to tend to official dog business. ¡°Alas, it cannot,¡± came Lionel¡¯s immediate reply. He sounded smug. System, he¡¯s going to be insufferable today, isn¡¯t he? If there was ever a time the damn thing was going to chime in to agree with me, it was then. As it was, I decided to take its silence as an emphatic yes. Book 2 | Chapter 3 One foot in front of the other. Again, and again, and again. Travelling by foot may have been good exercise but it was certainly an exercise in tedium. The occasional vista elicited an appreciative nod, but otherwise the road winding through the countryside remained largely devoid of substance or interesting circumstance. Sometimes we had to stand off to one side to allow a carriage to pass. Riveting stuff. After the first few days of the journey, I insisted we jog a portion of it, much to Lionel¡¯s amusement. I needed something to keep me occupied, and recreating portions of my usual routine was the most obvious solution. I hadn¡¯t realized how much I¡¯d come to depend on my exercises and practice, how much I relied on it to fill days where once that role was dominated by a plethora of short-minded internet content. A part of me still missed it. Not the grind of underappreciated work and ever mounting costs of living, but the small luxuries and ambient comforts. I hadn¡¯t eaten chocolate in over a decade. I didn¡¯t know if it even existed in the world I found myself in, but I held onto hope that it did. Boundless entertainment, the cumulative knowledge of humanity at my fingertips¡­ I never really took advantage of it all the way I could have - should have. What I wouldn¡¯t have given to be able to research The System in a search engine. Dwelling on my first life was a dangerous practice, though, likely another reason I so often sought to keep myself and my mind preoccupied with other matters. For as much as I missed junk food and my computer, it was the people I left behind that haunted me. It had been a while since I allowed my mind to truly linger on thoughts of my fianc¨¦. Perhaps that was why the wound, the loss, still felt so fresh. Whenever it flared, I shied away, and so it continued to fester even as I drew strength from it like a twisted leech that fed on my own sadness. Unfortunately, the days of travel failed to afford me my usual escape. Even as I endeavoured to clear my mind of memories of home, it was instead filled with thoughts of Bella that snuck in through the cracks. I wondered how she was faring. I wondered how she was feeling. Her life would likely never be the same again, and every passing worry or hypothetical carried with it the sting of guilt. It gnawed at me, and through the roughly chewed holes I saw my fianc¨¦''s disappointed face. She was a bastion of altruism if ever there was one, a woman who would give up her time and convenience for the sake of others, strangers and all. Once, we missed most of a concert caring for a stray sheep she happened to spot on the side of a country road en route to the event. It was ridiculous, really, but it was her and I loved her for it. When Bella was taken, I didn¡¯t speak up. I didn¡¯t even try. It was a pragmatic choice; there was almost certainly nothing good that could have come from sticking my neck out on her behalf. Still, no matter how much I threw my own brand of logic at the matter I could not help but feel certain my fianc¨¦ would have tried anyway, and would feel disappointed to learn that I didn¡¯t. I¡¯d once heard that a person often regrets the things they didn¡¯t do more than the things they did. I was starting to agree with the sentiment. -0-0-0-0-0- ¡°Were I to abandon you tonight, Will, are you confident in your capacity to navigate back to Elbura?¡± I was giving Fudge an idle scratch behind his ears when Lionel asked the question. We¡¯d set up camp for the evening and we usually passed the time in companionable silence. For whatever reason, Lionel was opting not to bombard me with inane chatter on the road and I was too proud to ask for it. He¡¯s doing it on purpose, I surmised, forgetting for a moment that I still hadn¡¯t addressed the question. I took a moment to think about my answer. ¡°Yes,¡± I said slowly, ¡°but only because it would largely be a matter of following the road back in the opposite direction.¡± ¡°What if the road were to suddenly vanish?¡± ¡°My chances of success would probably plummet,¡± I admitted. ¡°Dare I ask why you ask?¡± ¡°Do you?¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Yes, what?¡± I swear to fucking- ¡°Why do you ask?¡± I saw a glint in Lionel¡¯s eyes and quickly snapped before he could seize my error. ¡°Why do you ask about my ability to navigate back to Elbura?¡± Lionel shrugged and took a bite from the dried beef that made up the majority of our travel rations recently. ¡°No reason,¡± he said nonchalantly. He definitely does this on purpose, I thought dryly. The vindication I felt almost enough to calm my mounting frustrations. ¡°However, your ignorance does present an opportunity.¡± Lionel pointed skyward. ¡°Did you know it is possible to navigate by reading the stars?¡± I did, broadly speaking, but hadn¡¯t heard reference to it as Will before so I played dumb. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°Really?¡± Lionel shot me a nod and grinned. ¡°Really. Unfortunately, I lack the relevant skill set, so I cannot impart upon you the trick to it.¡± I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Why do you sound smug?¡± ¡°That, young Will, is an excellent question. My reason is thus; while navigating by the stars is beyond my expertise, I did not say I was without methods of my own. Would you like to learn?¡± He reached down to throw a small handful of twigs into our modest fire. ¡°Definitely,¡± I said without hesitation. ¡°Then learn you shall,¡± he crowed, arousing an unamused look and snort from Fudge. ¡°First, though, geography.¡± It was all I could do to suppress my groan. Geography was not my favourite subject my first go around and that particular facet of my identity remained blissfully unchanged. Lionel must have caught the displeasure on my face, though, and had the audacity to tut at me. ¡°I can assure you, you will endure,¡± he said dryly. ¡°It is not enduring that worries me, but yes, your point is taken.¡± Lionel nodded in approval and released a low whistle. The sound seemed to rumble through the ground, and I watched as a patch of earth by the fire cleared, leaving behind a segment of gently illuminated dirt. ¡°Always impressive,¡± I said genuinely. ¡°I am rather spectacular, in that your accuracy is to be commended, but the earth remains a frustratingly resistant audience. Hence, practice.¡± He whistled again and the dirt began to vibrate. A thick line started tracing itself through the ground, the kind of thing Lionel could have easily achieved with his finger were he not inclined to show off. An irregular circle took shape. ¡°This is Bosquelia,¡± Lionel said, naming the country we lived in. I was familiar with it in passing in that Tina mentioned it once or twice in my lessons. It had just never been especially relevant in my day-to-day life. ¡°I see you are quite the artist,¡± I commented flatly. I¡¯d never seen Bosquelia represented on a map, but I doubted the country was so circular. The unamused stare Lionel levelled in my direction all but confirmed my suspicions. ¡°Sarcasm is a rather low form of wit, young Will.¡± ¡°Who said I was being sarcastic?¡± I took no small amount of pleasure in throwing Lionel¡¯s nonsense right back at him. ¡°If I were not so proud of you right now I do believe I would be annoyed,¡± he said, seemingly earnestly, which somehow ruined it for me. Well played. I gestured for him to continue. Another whistle, and a squiggly line wrapped its way around one side of the circle. ¡°The Forest,¡± he said by way of explanation. ¡°It extends beyond the borders, of course, but for our purposes know that journeying West from almost anywhere in Bosquelia will see you arriving at its edge.¡± Lionel looked to me for confirmation of comprehension so I gave him a quick nod. Fudge rolled onto his back and kicked vaguely at the air with one of his hind legs, demonstrating that he almost certainly was not following along. Lionel held up a finger for a brief moment then pointed off into the night. ¡°That way is West,¡± he said proudly. ¡°I take it this is the part where I ask how you know that?¡± ¡°Correct, and since a charitable mood has struck me I will abstain from enforcing that requirement.¡± He chuckled and held up his finger again. ¡°I noted ambient mana in the notes I provided you.¡± ¡°You did,¡± I confirmed. ¡°When a puff of unattuned mana is released into the air, it starts to disperse,¡± he waggled his finger for emphasis. ¡°It is a subtle thing, but before dispersion, mana is pulled towards The Forest where the mana density is higher. Since The Forest lies Westward¡­¡± He trailed off expectantly. ¡°We can use mana to find the West,¡± I finished. ¡°Exactly,¡± Lionel said with a snap of his fingers. ¡°Fortunately, your proficiency in the production of unattuned mana means it is simply a matter of practice.¡± I raised an eyebrow. ¡°No additional advice? No explanation as to why mana behaves in that way?¡± Lionel matched my expression. ¡°Most definitely not,¡± he said, feigning outrage. ¡°I would not deny you the underlying mysteries.¡± He leaned in a little closer. ¡°Unless, of course, you believe yourself incapable of deciphering this simple trick without explicit guidance?¡± I didn¡¯t miss the questioning inflection to his voice. ¡°I know what you are doing right now,¡± I said dryly. ¡°Is that so?¡± ¡°It is.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°Yes, I will figure it out myself. Happy?¡± ¡°In this? Yes.¡± I scoffed but was eager to replicate Lionel¡¯s feat all the same. My gaze drifted towards the direction Lionel indicated earlier in our conversation. Yeah, that¡¯s the kind of bias I don¡¯t want clouding my judgement for a first attempt, I thought, disappointed. I could practice while we walked. ¡°How much longer until we reach the Slayer Fort anyway?¡± I asked, fully expecting Lionel¡¯s usual response: ¡®soon.¡¯ Lionel was poking at the fire with a stick and didn¡¯t look my way when he answered. ¡°We will reach our destination before tomorrow¡¯s end.¡± It took me a moment to register the answer. ¡°Wait, really?¡± ¡°Really.¡± For a long moment, the crackle of the fire was the only sound as reality set in. As much as I complained, there was a certain simplicity to travelling with Lionel that I suspected would not be possible when whatever training awaited me began in full force. ¡°Well. Good, then,¡± I said, too proud to admit I¡¯d enjoyed myself. I chuckled in the way someone does when made uncomfortable by their feelings, a sign that it was time to change the subject. ¡°In that case, do you have any advice for Recovery? No need to answer tonight; it is close to the bottleneck though and I figure we can make it a focus when you start training me.¡± Lionel looked back up at me, then, confusion on his face. I saw the gears turn in his head before a flash of guilty panic broke his usually relaxed fa?ade. ¡°It is only just occurring to me that I have made an error,¡± he said stiffly. ¡°Will, I will not be taking charge of your training. I am merely your escort.¡± I blinked. ¡°Huh?¡± Book 2 | Chapter 4 There are different kinds of silence, different flavours and forms often easily sensed yet difficult to describe. One such silence stood between Lionel and I, a barrier of our own design as the final stretch of our journey was eaten by one unenthusiastic footstep after the other. The silence hung heavy, as it had all morning; a single night of sleep had not magically repaired the damage neither of us had taken the time to properly address. This is stupid, I told myself for what felt like the hundredth time. I was being petulant. I knew that, but when bad feelings feel righteous it is difficult to dismiss them. Fudge remained glued to my side, showing solidarity in his closeness instead of pathfinding and exploring the various nooks and crannies that lined the road ahead. Must be a bummer to have a front row seat to my mess of a psyche, I mused, sending my thanks through the Tamer Bond. I reached for Fudge¡¯s flank, resting a hand alongside it and drawing strength from the contact as I had so many times before. So stupid¡­ I cast my mind backwards, to the night before. I hoped it would be an exercise in reflection, but thus far it had only served as justification. It was those excuses that the silence fed on, but I was determined to starve it out. -0-0-0-0-0- ¡°What do you mean you will not be my mentor?¡± I asked, my tone incredulous. The gentle crackling of the small fire filled the gaps between our words. ¡°It means exactly what it sounds like.¡± There was an uncharacteristic neutrality to Lionel¡¯s voice; he took no joy in the conversation. I scowled, a flash of unexpectedly potent fire rushing through me as I continued to process the omission. ¡°You did not think to tell me?! This whole time I thought¡­¡± Lionel just sighed and rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his hair in the process. ¡°I know¡­¡± he said, letting the thought trail off for a few moments. ¡°While it is tempting to declare the obfuscation another facet of your education, perhaps a lesson regarding how one handles the unexpected, that would be dishonest of me.¡± ¡°Then why!?¡± ¡°I felt it best to delay your disappointment. Travelling gives a man ample time to brood, and some things are best not brooded on.¡± -0-0-0-0-0- At the time, I¡¯d wanted to snap back with some scathing remark about Lionel¡¯s self-serving sense of importance. So I did. An embarrassing outburst, in hindsight. It was an exercise of childish nonsense, one that I cared not to revisit and one Lionel bore silently. At the time, it signalled the end of our conversation and, since then, we¡¯d been stuck in limbo. Why was the thought of being left alone so rattling? Alone wasn¡¯t even the right word for it; it wasn¡¯t like Lionel was going to abandon me in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a pair of pants and a pleasant ¡®fuck you¡¯ to remember him by. So why? What Lionel called brooding, I preferred to think of as introspection if only to avoid admitting his caution on the subject was well founded. There was no special moment, no real trigger or cause when my self-reflection finally bore fruit. When insight came, it came abruptly, cutting off all other thoughts. It wasn¡¯t just the fact that Lionel was leaving. It was everything. After years of knowing little else, I left my new family and the home we¡¯d built behind me. I was complicit in a young girl being taken from her mother and father. I¡¯d witnessed violence; I¡¯d experienced tragedy; and through it all I demanded composure from myself, because I was an adult. An adult with the body of a child. Compared to the fugue that was my early infancy, I¡¯d believed myself largely beyond the most hindering restrictions imposed upon me by my form, barring my physical size. Was that really the case, though? I¡¯d once likened my sense of self to software crammed into my new body¡¯s hardware. The fact that the whole system somehow functioned didn¡¯t change those base components. Was my irrational fear of abandonment some childlike instinct I couldn¡¯t simply reason away? How many other times had I been similarly influenced without noticing, a slave to biological whims? Shadows of doubt started creeping over all the major decisions of my life until that point, a roiling darkness that threatened to- Or maybe I¡¯m just an overwhelmed adult being too hard on himself. The thought came unbidden, accompanied by a pulse of mana from Recovery. It was a beacon of inner light, a lifeline to pull me from the ever crushing depths of self-pity I¡¯d almost allowed myself to sink into. I breathed deeply, following the impulse inspired by my Skill. It doesn¡¯t really matter why I feel this way. What matters is that I do. Another breath. Another wave of soothing mana. I can blame my body or any other number of circumstances. It doesn¡¯t change what I need to do. Inhale. Exhale. A wet nose nudged one of my hands as Fudge lended his quiet support. He did not know the specifics of my turmoil, but he didn¡¯t need to. I loved him for that. One day at a time. You will make mistakes. You will have regrets. Learn from them. Be better. I stood a little straighter, relieved of the burden I¡¯d almost forced upon myself. ¡°Hey, Lionel,¡± I crowed with forced bravado. If I was going to be the one to break the silence, I wanted to own it. Lionel paused mid step and turned to face me before I continued. ¡°I am still annoyed with you, but I am done sulking about it.¡± Nailed it. Lionel raised an eyebrow as he took a moment to process my sudden outburst. ¡°Pffff,¡± he snorted. ¡°Your words have been heard and understood, young Will.¡± ¡°Really? No apology? No explanation as to why I, a child, had to be the mature one here?¡± Fudge released a low, muted bark - a bork - as if to similarly scold Lionel for his inaction. Lionel had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed. ¡°I was not sure how to best handle the situation.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I am not exactly well versed in matters of children. Trust me, in that regard, not having me as your mentor is a blessing.¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡°That is not something to sound so smug about,¡± I said dryly. Lionel just laughed, and I knew the matter was behind us. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but things seldom were. -0-0-0-0-0- Our destination lay before us, a town called Dorbe. A town, not a village. Even from afar, I could tell it was the largest gathering of humanity I¡¯d encountered since my rebirth. A stone wall, one tall enough to make giraffes have to crane their necks, ran along its borders. Stretches of cleared land separated Dorbe from The Forest, but geographically speaking it was practically nestled up against it. My gaze lingered on the walls. From up high, The Forest probably looked like a sea of green, stretching endlessly towards the horizon. I promised myself I¡¯d have to investigate for myself at some point; no doubt it would be a sight to behold. Lionel was busy explaining that most Slayer forts were situated by The Forest, which made sense to me. You wouldn¡¯t post a lifeguard in the middle of a desert. Even so¡­ ¡°What happens if there is a Beast Incident not near The Forest?¡± ¡°We get there as fast as we can,¡± Lionel answered, devoid of his usual mirth. ¡°It does not happen often enough to warrant spreading our limited manpower too thin.¡± He reached down to give Fudge a pat on the head. ¡°More often than not it is the case of a mundane animal beating the odds and Advancing in such a way that it becomes a threat to people. Even then, rarely do such incidents escalate to the level that a Slayer response is needed.¡± I nodded. ¡°Makes sense.¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± Lionel agreed with a nod of his own. ¡°Now, look sharp, we are about to have company.¡± A flash of panic struck me. My eyes darted towards The Forest for signs of danger and- ¡°No, no, you misunderstood,¡± Lionel was quick to clear up the confusion when he saw my reaction, a brief look of concern flashing over his features. ¡°On the road.¡± He pointed ahead of us. ¡°Look.¡± Sure enough, within a few moments a donkey-pulled cart rolled into view. As we drew closer, it became apparent that a woman was holding the reins. She wore a hat with an almost comically large brim. Embarrassment swallowed any lingering traces of concern I might have had and I was quick to regain my composure, relieved that we wouldn¡¯t have time to linger on the matter of my reaction. ¡°Hello to the cart!¡± Lionel called out when the driver was within earshot. ¡°Hello to the travellers!¡± She called back, lingering on syllables in ways that made her voice want to stand out in a person¡¯s memory. ¡°Travellers?!¡± Lionel responded with false outrage. ¡°Evidently I have been absent too long and have faded from recollection.¡± There was a long beat of silence. ¡°Well strip my bark and call me a cat,¡± came the enthusiastic reply. ¡°Is that little Lionel?¡± ¡°Did she just call you-¡± ¡°Hush.¡± Lionel was quick to cut me off and I stifled a snicker. The cart pulled up alongside us, barely stopping before its driver hopped off to pull Lionel into a crushingly tight embrace. ¡°It is good to see you too, Isa,¡± Lionel choked out with a chuckle. Up close, Isa looked to be comfortably middle-aged which - given the ways Advancement could influence the aging process - didn¡¯t help me place her actual age at all. ¡°And since when did you have a kid? Who is the unlucky lady?¡± She spun towards me, her twin tails of tightly plaited hair almost smacking Lionel in the face in the process. ¡°You definitely take after your mother in looks,¡± she continued, cutting off Lionel¡¯s attempt to correct her. ¡°Just make sure you try not to take after your old man too much when it comes to personality.¡± She laughed, then, a sound that came from deep in the back of her throat. Lionel finally had a window to intercede. ¡°Alas, I did not participate in the spawning of this one,¡± he said dryly. ¡°So you just decided to start travelling around with a kid and a dog?¡± ¡°Only so far as to properly escort him to the Slayer fort.¡± ¡°The kid or the dog?¡± ¡°Oh, I like her,¡± I chimed in, much to Isa¡¯s vocal amusement. ¡°Ha! Cute kid. Okay then I will leave you to whatever Slayer business you have. The folks at the quarry will throw a fit if I am late with their lunch - and when they are out of fits they might start throwing rocks and that is when it gets dangerous.¡± She cackled and hopped back onto the cart before giving the reins a quick flick. ¡°Off you go, Floopy,¡± she called to the donkey who had been engaged in a staring match with Fudge. Floopy gave a snort and a shake of their similarly plaited mane before complying, and the pair gradually disappeared into the distance behind us. ¡°Since I am in such a good mood, I am going to be nice,¡± I said with a grin. ¡°Quarry?¡± Lionel scoffed, but didn¡¯t push his luck. ¡°Quarry,¡± he agreed. ¡°Local specialty.¡± ¡°Is that all I am getting?¡± ¡°It is all you are getting from me,¡± Lionel clarified. ¡°Go there on a day off if you want to learn about rocks.¡± ¡°Am I going to get a lot of days off?¡± Lionel shrugged. ¡°Probably not.¡± -0-0-0-0-0- The dirt road turned into a cobbled street as we entered the town proper. Rows of stone houses lined the main road and several more were nestled beyond it. Flowering vines lay claim to their outer walls, clinging to the stone as they reached ever upwards. Floral perfumes imperfectly masked the usual smells of civilization, and I grew increasingly curious as to how matters of large scale waste disposal were handled when we passed by the occasional large pile of animal droppings left to bask in the sunlight. Isa was just the first of many locals we passed by as we made our way. Some barely acknowledged our presence, others gave polite hellos, and a few even recognized Lionel and greeted him with name or title. ¡°That is Isa¡¯s tavern, the best in town,¡± Lionel remarked when we passed by a large building connected to the town square. A sign depicting the silhouette of a boot stood proudly over its entrance, carved directly into the stonework and inlaid with some kind of dark material I did not recognize at a distance. An air of nostalgia hung over Lionel as he guided me through Dorbe. It was a pleasant distraction from the fresh bundle of butterflies fluttering about my stomach. Despite everything, I was not immune to the nerves spawned by the prospect of new people and introductions. I¡¯ll be fine in the moment, I told myself. It was the anticipation that I couldn¡¯t stand. Fortunately, the sight of our destination gave me something new to focus on. ¡°Calling that thing a fort feels disingenuous,¡± I said dryly, not bothering to hide my disappointment. The word ¡®fort¡¯ conjured images of great stone constructs, towering palisades, moats, and other characteristics I was probably getting confused with the traits of castles. The building atop the northernmost hill in Dorbe wasn¡¯t small, by any means. It was bordered by a secondary wall and could probably be comfortably referred to as a manor based on its size and the scope of its grounds. Even so¡­ I can¡¯t help but feel disappointed. Lionel chuckled at my comment. We were on the final leg of our approach where a large wooden gate stood waiting to greet us. ¡°I said something similar when I first saw it,¡± he admitted. ¡°Want me to tell you what they told me?¡± ¡°Go ahead.¡± Lionel adopted a gravelly voice. ¡°Unless you want to be in charge of cleaning it, keep your mouth shut.¡± ¡°... I take it that is not the real explanation?¡± ¡°It is not. It is just what I was told at the time.¡± Lionel made no move to explain further. I rolled my eyes. ¡°I am not going to miss these little chats of ours,¡± I said flatly. Lionel reached over and ruffled my hair, another laugh escaping his lips. ¡°I am going to miss you too, young Will. Now, best to announce our presence.¡± With that, Lionel let loose a sharp whistle before we accidently got sentimental. Book 2 | Chapter 5 ¡°Remember when I asked you about epigraphs? I did some research of my own and, evidently, there are no actual rules regarding their usage. They can be unnecessary. They can be superfluous, which is just a fancier way to say unnecessary. My point is, we could include as many, or as few, epigraphs as we want and, technically speaking, it would be fine.¡± -Unknown ¡°I recommend you brace yourself,¡± Lionel noted as we watched the gate gradually inch open in response to his whistle. Whoever dutifully manned the other side was quick to work whatever mechanisms were responsible for the feat, and I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if Lionel had whispered advanced word of our arrival on the wind for the sake of theatrics. ¡°Why do you-¡± ¡°LIONNEEEELLLLL!¡± The voice boomed with masculine authority and my eyes snapped towards its source. A figure crested the top of the wall but did not stop there, easily clearing the imposing height when they reached what appeared to be the apex of an impossible leap. The afternoon Sun obscured the figure as they plummeted towards us, but I lacked any time to ruminate on the fact. I felt the force of the landing as it radiated out from the point of impact, yet there was no accompanying crush, crack or rumble of shattered stones. A bearded man with a physical build rivaling my father¡¯s straightened to his full height. I tensed and turned to Lionel for guidance, only to find him pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. ¡°This seems a bit excessive,¡± he lectured, addressing the imposing figure whose eyes seemed to bulge at the suggestion. ¡°Bloody rich coming from you,¡± he scoffed. Lionel leaned slightly to one side, addressing the gate. ¡°Disappointment has blossomed in my heart, Palo,¡± he called out. ¡°I asked you not to-¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± the bearded man cut him off. ¡°We were expecting you and Palo was under strict instructions not to accommodate your nonsense this time.¡± I sent a sympathetic glance towards the as-of-yet unseen figure manning the gate. ¡°I fear you are making a rough first impression on our newest recruit,¡± Lionel said, changing the subject and deftly positioning me to shield him from whatever conflict he¡¯d apparently been avoiding. The large man looked down at me. I felt the weight of his scrutiny. Fudge moved to stand between the two of us. His tail was down. The movements were hesitant. He was scared of the man, but he stepped up all the same. Easy boy, I thought, and Taming [Fudge] carried the intent behind my words to him as best it could. There was a bristle to his fur, but my reassurances were enough to forestall a more overt reaction. You did good. ¡°Hello, sir,¡± I said softly. Banter aside, I owed Lionel a great debt. Time and again he¡¯d shown a willingness to dedicate time and energy to the wellbeing of me and my family. ¡°Why are you yelling at my Uncle Lionel?¡± I still possessed the childhood squeak of boyhood and leveraged it to the best of my ability. The look of general acknowledgement I¡¯d been receiving from the bearded man quickly turned to a scowl that steadily shifted back towards Lionel. ¡°This is low even for you,¡± he said, no longer booming but that did little to disguise the anger underpinning his words. ¡°A bold statement, to be sure,¡± Lionel replied smoothly. His smirk did a poor job at concealing his amusement at my actions. ¡°Now, what can I do to help you, Captain Engel?¡± ¡°Right now, nothing, which is the problem,¡± Engel snapped back. ¡°Years ago you promised me a specific favour I can no longer cash in given the squads barely have time to scratch their collective balls between calls to the field.¡± ¡°I hardly see how that is-¡± ¡°Do not even pretend that you were not avoiding me to dodge that responsibility.¡± He took a step towards Lionel, drawing attention to the difference in their heights. ¡°I will make this a problem for your Captain if I have to.¡± Lionel¡¯s eyes grew hard at the threat. ¡°That would be ill-advised.¡± There was an edge to his voice. ¡°Probably,¡± Engel admitted. He made no move to back down. ¡°So was trying to cheat me.¡± This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°I would hardly describe my-¡± ¡°Save it. Do I look like I have the Gullible Idiot Skill to you?¡± I had to suppress a chortle; it was my first time encountering that particular spin on the idiom. There was a beat of tense silence before Lionel replied. ¡°What do you propose, then?¡± ¡°Blank favour. You have the right of refusal once.¡± ¡°Blank favour. I have the right of refusal twice without arbitration or with it for any subsequent refusals.¡± ¡°Once without arbitration.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± ¡°Fantastic, you both love each other again. Feel free to kiss and make up.¡± A new voice entered the conversation, and I watched as a familiar figure stepped through the now-open gate. ¡°Lieutenant Mira, watch yourself,¡± Engel snapped. ¡°Apologies, sir,¡± she said in a way that made it clear she wasn¡¯t being sincere. Mira turned her attention my way. ¡°And if it isn¡¯t our new, most handsome little recruit.¡± ¡°Hello again, Mira,¡± I said with a chuckle. Being spoken to like a child was always amusing. ¡°Congratulations on the promotion!¡± She had not been a Lieutenant when she visited in the wake of the fueha incident. She hasn¡¯t aged a day, either, I noted. It was still strange to reunite with people and see them untouched by time that would have left its mark on a regular person. I noticed that she still maintained her signature, club-like braid. I did not envy her neck. Mira gave me an approving nod. ¡°He is going to do well here.¡± ¡°Why do I get the distinct impression you are ignoring me?¡± Lionel asked. ¡°Because I am. You can go now, Lieutenant Lionel.¡± ¡°There is a story there,¡± I whispered. Lionel and he gave a sharp, single shake of his head, a warning not to touch that particular nerve. ¡°In that case, I will not overstay my welcome,¡± Lionel chirped with a renewed smile on his face. ¡°The spoils from the tehon job are being handled by young Fudge here.¡± He gestured towards Fudge and his makeshift harness. ¡°You know what to do with them.¡± ¡°Any irregularities?¡± Engel asked, his own attitude suddenly professional in the face of Slayer work. ¡°Besides its proximity to the fringes? None.¡± The pair exchanged a nod of understanding I couldn¡¯t decipher before Lionel knelt to address me directly. ¡°Remember what we discussed?¡± Lionel asked, his tone serious. ¡°I do.¡± If I decided I couldn¡¯t handle being a Slayer, Lionel would bail me out. Some paranoid part of me wondered if that too was some kind of test. I hoped I wouldn¡¯t have to find out. ¡°Then this, young Will, is where we depart.¡± He reached over to ruffle my hair. Don¡¯t be a wuss, I told myself. Just give your uncle a hug. Before I could talk myself out of it, I followed through, awkwardly wrapping my arms around his torso and patting his back a few times. Lionel was stunned for a few moments before he tried to mirror the action. I heard Mira snort in amusement at the sight. After we disentangled, I was quick to move the conversation along. ¡°Safe travels, Uncle Lionel. If I want to send you a letter, can I do that from here?¡± Lionel tilted his head slightly to one side. ¡°Why would you want to do that?¡± ¡°I want to keep in touch,¡± I said honestly. ¡°If I send you letters for mum and dad as well, can you pass them on?¡± Lionel laughed, then. There was an almost musical lilt to it that I¡¯d not heard before. ¡°Why is that funny?¡± I asked, reserving my annoyance. ¡°You just reminded me of your father right now.¡± Lionel craned his neck back towards the other Slayers. ¡°Can the young Will count on your aid in this endeavour?¡± ¡°Leave it to me.¡± Surprisingly, it was Mira who spoke up, her arms crossed. ¡°To be clear, I will do it for the kid.¡± ¡°Understood,¡± Lionel said before standing upright. ¡°Then it seems the time for my departure is at hand and I would dare not deny its tender grasp.¡± ¡°This feels¡­ underwhelming,¡± I admitted. ¡°Alas, most farewells are,¡± Lionel said. ¡°Such is the way of things, but I am feeling generous, so...¡± Lionel gently cleared his throat and pointed dramatically in my direction. ¡°Work hard, young Will, for I have high expectations for your success. May destiny guide you as you push towards the promised tomorrow.¡± I snorted. ¡°Much better.¡± ¡°Please do not encourage him.¡± It was Engel who reprimanded me. ¡°Best listen to your new Captain, Will.¡± With that, Lionel spun on his heel and made his way back along the path. A cheerful whistle followed him and I watched for a long moment before turning away. Engel and Mira were waiting patiently. I was grateful for the time they gave me. Perseverance pulsed as I accepted that most of my most steadfast supporters were no longer within easy reach. I had to embrace every challenge, every hardship that came my way if I wanted to push the Skill to its limits, to push myself to my limits. I hated to admit it, but Lionel was right; for a time, at least, I would be better off without him. ¡°So what now?¡± I asked. Engel stood up straight and puffed out his chest, a grin spreading across his features as whatever foul mood Lionel put him in seemed to diminish in proportion with the growing distance he put between them. ¡°Now,¡± he said, ¡°we welcome you to Squad Nine.¡± Book 2 | Chapter 6 As far as naming conventions went, Squad Nine rang entirely too ordinary when measured against my expectations. There was no¡­ fantasy to it. In truth, it was less my expectations that were betrayed as opposed to my hopes; one cannot blame the idle flight of fancy when confronted with a group of monster hunters with the audacity to refer to themselves as Slayers. Alas, elaborate epithets and sobriquets remained in the domain of memory and fiction. Engel was quick to entrust me into Mira¡¯s care for an orientation, of sorts. ¡°Show the kid where to put his stuff,¡± were his exact words; I chose a generous interpretation. Mira gave a quick voice to the affirmative and Engel departed in much the same way he arrived, bounding over the wall in a feat I couldn¡¯t fathom replicating. I took a moment to inspect the stonework of the road and, sure enough, there was nary a speck, smudge nor subtle dusting of damage despite the forces it was forced to endure. Is it the work of Engel¡¯s Skill? The Skill of the person who built the road? The person who processed the stone? All? None? Not for the first time, I found myself frustrated by the prospect that Skills and The System could undermine any attempts to gain a universal understanding of things. There were more exceptions than rules. ¡°Drop something?¡± Mira¡¯s voice pulled me from my examination, brief though it had been. I liked Mira. The memories I had of the muscular woman were brief and dusted with age, but she¡¯d left a positive impression. That and she used a rock to detonate a chunk of the treeline near my house, I thought grimly. That particular memory remained sharp by comparison, a common quality of events that adjust one¡¯s sense of scope. ¡°Just admiring the workmanship,¡± I replied idly. In turning my attention back towards Mira, I noticed she was rather openly scrutinizing me. ¡°Do I have something on my face?¡± Mira¡¯s narrowed eyes relaxed and she sighed softly. ¡°You do not.¡± She moved her hands to her hips. ¡°What you do have is a question to answer and an explanation to listen to. Clear?¡± ¡°Was that the qu-¡± I coughed, catching myself before the unwise habits I¡¯d fallen into with Lionel got me in trouble. ¡°Clear.¡± Mira nodded, kind enough to ignore my slip of the tongue. ¡°Good. I want clarification. You were already under the influence of your Core Skill when we first met, correct?¡± ¡°You know about that?¡± I¡¯d assumed Lionel revealed some details regarding my Build, I just never took the time to dig into the specifics. A mistake, in hindsight. ¡°Answer the question first, recruit.¡± Mira¡¯s tone was encouraging, yet still left no room for confusion regarding her authority. ¡°Yeah, even then,¡± I admitted. Mira nodded. ¡°Thank you.¡± She smiled then, a warm, earnest thing. ¡°I had been wondering. It is good to have my suspicions confirmed. Now, an explanation: The squad knows about you.¡± She held up a hand to forestall the obvious question. ¡°They do not know all the details - those are for you to share - but they needed an explanation to justify your presence.¡± I frowned. ¡°That¡­¡± The objection died off before I could voice it. Huh. I realized something, then. My secrecy regarding Perseverance was rooted in caution, in efforts to delay discovery. With concerns of The Crown largely behind me, those strict precautions were no longer necessary. ¡°That¡­ what?¡± Again, I¡¯d drifted off into thought in front of Mira, whose brow hadd furrowed in budding agitation. A quick pulse of Perseverance banished distraction beneath a cool wave of mana. It did not take a genius to know building a poor reputation with one¡¯s superior was largely ill-advised. ¡°That¡­ is fine,¡± I replied, having wrangled my composure. I meant it, too. ¡°If I am going to trust anyone with my secrets, who better than my new squad?¡± Not all my secrets, of course; I dared not tempt that particular strand of fate. Besides, I reasoned, presumably I¡¯ll eventually be entrusting my life to Squad Nine. Lionel touched upon group tactics in his lesson-turned-execution when we hunted down the tehon. When considered through that lens, any secrecy regarding my capabilities had an expiration date. Mira¡¯s nod of approval affirmed my choice. ¡°Good,¡± she said before her lips grew thin. ¡°Just¡­ be patient with people.¡± I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Hmm?¡± Mira chuckled nervously and took a moment to consider her response. A hand raised to her mouth and she idly chewed at one of her fingernails while she did so until, finally, she spoke. ¡°I do not want to colour your perceptions.¡± She frowned, tilting her head in thought as if one side of her lips were weighing it down. ¡°I probably have already. Now I regret it.¡± I could see where the conversation was headed. ¡°Not everyone is thrilled by my recruitment?¡± ¡°Something like that. It might be a non-issue. Again, I feel I have erred. Are you thirsty? You have travelled a long way. We could- oh!¡± She gently smacked the side of the fist of one hand into the palm of another. ¡°You can meet Palo.¡± She turned back to the still-open gate. ¡°Palo! We are coming in to say hello.¡± It wasn¡¯t the most subtle attempt at changing a subject, but I was wise enough to know pointing that out would do me no good. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Come on, Fudge,¡± I called as I moved to follow Mira who had already pivoted to lead me into the grounds. With a quick, slobbery shake of his head he bounded back to my side, the small shrub he¡¯d wandered off to investigate almost immediately forgotten. -0-0-0-0-0- Palo was a gangly lad, just past his adolescence and a member of the ancillary staff who worked at the fort. Palo was the gatesman. Rather, he was one of three gatesmen; Palo¡¯s brother worked the night shift. A large pile of wool kept Palo company in the gatehouse, and I made the mistake of commenting on its quality. While my family wasn¡¯t directly involved in the sheep trade, enough people in Elbura were that I¡¯d learned a few things. It immediately became apparent that Palo knew more than me when it came to that particular topic. With much enthusiasm and poor volume modulation, he was exceedingly willing to discuss it at length. It was only thanks to Mira¡¯s rescue that I was able to escape the conversation when he started referencing some apparent feud between breeds of sheep and their value as producers of the best wool for socks. It was the first of many such meetings. There were groundsmen, cleaners, cooks - not to the point of excess, mind, but enough that it quickly became apparent that I¡¯d be living in relative luxury. One of the cooks was busy preparing for the evening meal when Mira showed me the kitchens. Busy as he was, we didn¡¯t overstay our welcome beyond brief introductions. It was just long enough for him to tell us that said evening meal would be a stew. I¡¯d always found it strange how such simple reminders could completely sour a person¡¯s mood. That casual revelation was enough to remind me of Jusep and the state I¡¯d left him in. His Core Skill was Cooking [Stews] and I doubted it had made much progress given his condition. Not that I am completely aware as to what exactly that is anymore. Another grim thought, for even when I was still at Elbura news of his recovery was denied me. It probably should have come as no surprise that I struggled to let things go, but thoughts of Jusep had grown especially vexing as of late. More often than not, I found myself caring more about my failure to help him as opposed to the reality of his condition. A truth I loathed but could not allow myself to ignore. But I can dwell on that later. I broke one of my rules and invoked Perseverance to restrain the complicated thoughts, pushing through the disruptive influence of Recovery to do so. Fudge was curled up outside waiting for us. Sensibly, dogs were not welcome in the kitchens. He greeted us with an enthusiastic few wags of his tail before trotting over to fall into step beside me. ¡°I almost doubted the reports,¡± Mira commented. I tilted my head slightly, and she was quick to answer the silent question. ¡°The Taming Skill - I did not expect a child to have it.¡± I had wondered why she¡¯d seemed so unbothered by Fudge¡¯s presence and appearance. ¡°My mom had it as a child,¡± I said, baiting a more thorough explanation. ¡°Well, unless Taming is her Core Skill then she, too, is an unusual case.¡± We left the high-ceilinged halls of the manor and stepped back onto the grounds. ¡°I imagine your own Core Skill was also a factor.¡± ¡°It was,¡± I confirmed, pleased to hear that only my Skills were shared. I never doubted Lionel¡¯s integrity, per say, but was pleased to have confirmation all the same. ¡°You also bonded to an animal as opposed to a Beast, which I have heard can be a mitigating factor.¡± It felt like she was musing to herself and I was just along for the ride. ¡°Even so¡­¡± ¡°Even so?¡± Understanding of the precise difference between an animal and a Beast continued to elude me. I was almost convinced that the terminology was about as useful as ¡®fish¡¯ in that it was largely an arbitrary classification. ¡°It still seems irresponsible,¡± she said bluntly. ¡°Frankly, I think there are grounds for Taming to become a restricted Skill.¡± She sighed. ¡°Such things are not for me to decide, though, and I know why they have to keep it around¡­¡± There was a bitterness to her words I could practically taste on the wind. I frowned. ¡°I know about the Beast High, it seems manageable, though.¡± ¡°It is what happens when a person fails to manage it that worries me, you-¡± Mira cut herself off, tilting her head down to study me through narrowed eyes. ¡°You do not know what I am talking about, though,¡± she stated. I was so caught up by curiosity that I failed to school my expression. ¡°Should I?¡± I tried to sound nonchalant. ¡°Definitely, but it is not urgent and I am not in charge of your education.¡± Before responding, I sniffed at the air, momentarily overwhelmed by the arrival of a scent I could only describe as chemical-y. It grew stronger as we approached a small, secondary building well away from the main one. ¡°Well then, who is in charge of my education?¡± I eventually asked. ¡°The last stop of the tour.¡± The edge of agitation was back. I couldn¡¯t decide if it was born from the questions themselves or their subject matter. The smell grew increasingly potent. I sensed through the Tamer Bond that it was making Fudge especially uncomfortable. Go ahead and explore, Fudge, I thought before whistling his release command. Without missing a step, Fudge veered away from us to indulge in his free time. That is to say, he bent over to rub his snout against the grass in an effort to scrub out the offending offalactory intruder. ¡°The smell was bothering Fudge so he is going to wait around here,¡± I noted for Mira¡¯s benefit. She stopped walking and reached down to signal for me to pause as well. ¡°Understood, but you will need to call him back for a moment. We need the tehon claws.¡± A flush of embarrassment briefly coloured my cheeks. Obviously that smell is somehow related to the processing of materials. Berating myself aside, another quick whistle and a brief tussle with Fudge¡¯s impromptu harness saw it transferred to Mira¡¯s hands. Unburdened, Fudge returned to his play with an excited gallop and we left him to it. ¡°Oi, Ohchio!¡± Mira bellowed when we approached the stone building that resembled a warehouse more than a residence but was probably a workshop. A forge of sorts was tacked on to one side but it wasn¡¯t in use when we arrived. Mira addressed me in a softer tone. ¡°If you ever need to visit Ohchio, always call him out. If he does not answer, leave a note.¡± It was not a suggestion. We waited in silence for a few minutes, during which time Mira called for Ohchio twice more without getting a response. Eventually, she shrugged. ¡°See, he is busy.¡± A large wooden box had been placed near the front door. Mira deposited the tehon claws into it before withdrawing a cylinder of wood painted bright yellow. It slotted easily into a section of the lid and stood vertical, reminding me of the flag on a letterbox. ¡°Is this Ohchio person okay?¡± ¡°Probably. If we do not hear from him after more than a week someone will have to risk checking on him.¡± I gulped. ¡°Risk?¡± ¡°There is a reason we leave a note if he does not answer,¡± was all Mira said to explain before ushering me away. ¡°I am sure you will meet him eventually.¡± ¡°So, what now?¡± I asked, happy to leave the harsh odours behind me. ¡°The last stop.¡± Book 2 | Chapter 7 When we returned to the main building, I was once again reminded that referring to the place as ¡®a fort¡¯ was largely a misrepresentation. The entrance was grand, dominated by a large central staircase and lined with doors leading to all manner of manor rooms from dining halls to sitting chambers, the former of which even boasted a chandelier. When we first passed through, I¡¯d been told to leave my pack and was pleased to note it had since been relocated, presumably to whichever room I¡¯d been assigned. Fudge remained outside, content to keep exploring the grounds. Mira reassured me that it would not be an issue and I had no reason to doubt her word on the matter. She began leading me upstairs when I thought to ask a question that¡¯d been playing at the edge of my mind, ¡°How many people here are Slayers?¡± Apart from Mira and Engel, everyone else I¡¯d met numbered among the ancillary staff. ¡°As of right now? Three.¡± Her eyes flicked towards me. ¡°Plus one inquisitive recruit.¡± She smiled, then, and it carried a touch of anticipatory amusement; we both knew I was about to reinforce the description. I rolled my eyes. ¡°Is it wrong to be inquisitive? Let me rephrase: How many Slayers are in Squad Nine?¡± ¡°Just because something is not wrong does not always mean it is free of consequence,¡± Mira recited, briefly adopting a lilt that was not quite her own. ¡°There are seven total; four of us are currently out on assignment.¡± We reached the top off the stairs where thick rugs adorned the stone floors. Earlier, one of the cleaners, a bubbly woman named Wynn, had made sure to reiterate that I need not concern myself over any mess I may or may not make. If anything, she encouraged me to try and leave a room filthier than I found it; a Skill thing, presumably. Despite Wynn¡¯s encouragement, I¡¯d grown increasingly conscious of the muck clinging to my boots as we traversed the manor. Travel had left its mark, and I was now smearing it all through an otherwise pristine building. Sensibilities died hard, and something about intentionally dirtying the place rubbed me the wrong way. I would adapt eventually, I knew. I just wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to. ¡°Seven is less than I was expecting,¡± I replied diplomatically, having decidedly shelved my thoughts on cleanliness until further notice. ¡°How many Squads are there?¡± ¡°Not enough,¡± Mira said, sounding exasperated. That time, I knew it was directed at the issue as opposed to me. ¡°That is not a concern for new recruits, however.¡± ¡°But-¡± ¡°Nope. Not happening.¡± Mira stopped in front of a nondescript door after cutting me off. ¡°Besides, we are here.¡± She knocked once before swinging the door inwards, not waiting for a response after announcing her presence. ¡°Cruz, the kid is- By The System, man, can you not?!¡± Mira disappeared into the room in the wake of her outburst. After a beat, I took a few hesitant steps in after her. The room was spacious, as most of them were, a large bed standing with its head against one of the walls. Perched on its end, with a bare foot resting on the elevated mattress, was a wiry haired man picking at one of his toes. The now-audible clicking of toenail against fingernail a cursed metronome set to the beat of my growing discomfort. ¡°Well excuse-the-fuck-me for what I do in the privacy of my room,¡± the man, presumably Cruz, snapped back, a touch of twang to his voice. While used sparingly in Elbura, I had overheard my new world¡¯s equivalent of the f-bomb some time ago. There was something about a universal, multi-functional swear word that I just found endearing. Despite my own displeasure at watching Cruz delve for whatever horrors lurked beneath his toenails, I could not help but reluctantly concede his point. That was, of course, until Mira gave her retort. ¡°If it was just in the privacy of your own room we would not have an issue with it.¡± Cruz¡¯s response was to shrug, and I got the impression it was not the first time his habits had been the source of dispute. ¡°You are more than welcome to sod off. In fact, I encourage it,¡± he eventually said. Stolen story; please report. ¡°Fat chance. You are in charge of mentoring the new recruit, so get to mentoring.¡± Mira gestured in my direction, but Cruz didn¡¯t look up from his business. ¡°I still object to this,¡± he noted, sounding petulant. ¡°And I am going to tell you exactly what Engel told you: Tough shit.¡± ¡°Need I remind you that you thought it was a stupid idea, too?¡± In watching the pair, a suspicion of mine born from Lionel¡¯s antics gained a touch more certainty. Slayers - the several I¡¯d encountered, at least - had a rather blas¨¦ attitude towards their internal command structures. Mira crossed her arms. ¡°Need I remind you that you still have to do it anyway?¡± Cruz snorted, the air sounding like it had to pass through a mile of phlegm on its journey to the outside world. He moved his foot back to the floor and stood. ¡°You do not. Well, go ahead and introduce the creepy-ass-wonder-child. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I get back to work.¡± Mira¡¯s expression tightened in distaste. ¡°Will, this is Slayer Cruz. Cruz, this is-¡± ¡°Slayer Recruit Will - I read the reports.¡± He turned my way. ¡°I would say good to meet you, but you are officially the newest pain in my arse so you will forgive the lack of enthusiasm.¡± A dry, natural sarcasm continued to underpin his every word. He stepped forward and extended a recently utilized hand for me to shake. I just stared at it. Fingers twitched at my side as I tried to figure out how to best respond. Dude¡­ ¡°Wash your cursed hands, Cruz,¡± Mira snapped, coming to my rescue. ¡°Almost forgot other folks shit flowers.¡± Instead of washing his hands in the nearby basin of clean water, Cruz just wiped his hand over his shirt a few times before sending it my way again. Whatever. I¡¯ve almost certainly survived worse. I returned the shake and moved washing my own hands to the top of my priorities list. ¡°I am going to go now. I feel like breaking something.¡± Without waiting for permission or a goodbye, Mira simply turned and left, leaving me alone with the man who would apparently be my primary mentor in the years to come. I swear, he better be some kind of savant. Cruz plunked back onto the edge of his bed but, blessedly, did not immediately return to his earlier excavation of all things toe. ¡°Alright, let us not fuck around,¡± he said. ¡°In case you struggle with subtlety, let me be clear: I am not pleased by this arrangement.¡± Well, fuck you too, then. ¡°Oh really? Here I thought ¡®creepy-ass-wonder-child¡¯ was a compliment.¡± Without his hands otherwise occupied, Cruz evidently had a tendency to gesticulate. It wasn¡¯t as overt as what my mother would do, but I noted it all the same. ¡°See, that is exactly the shit I am talking about - kids are not supposed to talk that way.¡± ¡°Would you prefer I-¡± ¡°Shut up? Yes. Just listen. After we are done here, find someone to show you where they stored your shit and take the day.¡± A beat. ¡°Okay, we are done here.¡± He gestured to the door. ¡°Seriously? No explanation of how this is all going to work or-¡± ¡°Nope. Again, shut up. Here is the deal - I am going to do a bad job so they think twice before saddling me with this shit in the future.¡± Again, Cruz gestured towards the door to dismiss me. I couldn¡¯t believe what I was hearing. Through the Tamer Bond, I felt Fudge note my rapidly rising frustration as it brushed against the edges of anger. If not for that sensation, it is likely I would have snapped and said something I¡¯d come to regret. Thanks buddy, I thought towards Fudge before taking a breath to calm myself. ¡°Understood,¡± I said flatly. Without looking back, I spun and left the room before my frustration had time to reassert itself. The hallway seemed notably longer as I returned back the way I¡¯d come, lingering annoyance still sufficient to tunnel my vision. Throwing a tantrum wouldn¡¯t have solved anything, I told myself. I ran the conversation back through my mind, searching for some shred of salvage in the sinking ship that was my hope for a decent mentor. He said he¡¯d do a bad job, not that he wouldn¡¯t do it at all. An important distinction, hopefully. Cruz was vocal about not wanting to mentor, but his exchange with Mira seemed to indicate that he had to. I could work with that. Maybe. I started wandering the halls, confident that I¡¯d bump into someone eventually. When viewed through that lens, telling me to take the rest of the day to rest after travelling was a way for Cruz to get rid of me that could survive scrutiny. In a different context, one might even argue it was responsible - thoughtful, even. Perseverance stirred in response to my planning. There was a line Cruz had to tread. I just needed to find it. Book 2 | Interlude: Bella Every morning the rooster crowed. The rooster was in charge of the chickens. That was how it always was. That was how it had always been. Ever since coming to the big city, Bella had not heard any roosters. Instead, it was Ethel who woke her up. Ethel was something called a head maid, the person in charge of the people who were maids but not head maids. Bella decided that head maids were a lot like roosters. Bella was given a big bed, like a mama and papa bed, except it was just for her. It was so very soft, soft enough to sink into, soft like Bella imagined clouds to be like. Head maids might have been like roosters, but they didn¡¯t crow to wake people up. Everyone in the big city had a head maid come into their room to pull back the curtains and let the morning sun in, the head maid would then gently shake them awake¡­ or so Bella assumed. That day was no exception, and Bella¡¯s tired eyes gradually fluttered open to reveal Ethel watching over her. ¡°-ake up now, Bella. A new day is ready to greet you.¡± Ethel¡¯s voice sounded like how a hug feels. She was a pale woman, unnaturally so to Bella¡¯s eyes. She was not sick, though - Ethel had chuckled when Bella suggested as much. Ethel was from a place far away, where lots of people were pale and had pretty golden hair. She told Bella that the big city was a scary, unfamiliar place to her as well, when she first arrived. She was just like me¡­ The tired thought revisited Bella¡¯s mind as she yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. ¡°Good morning, Ethel,¡± Bella mumbled before sitting up. She was pleased to note the lingering ache in her throat had finally receded. Ethel had been Bella¡¯s saviour in the days since she¡¯d arrived in Sentrodah, curled up in the corner of the carriage she shared with Rosita. Bella had cried until her voice grew coarse. Her cheeks were tear-stained. Snot coated her sleeves from when she¡¯d wiped it away, and the front of her shirt from when she didn¡¯t. Rosita never scolded her for doing so, instead she encouraged her. ¡°You are feeling sadness and loss. Let it out. Let it go, so that you might see how much you are about to gain.¡± Callous words, perhaps, but any words would have sounded hollow; if anything, they were confusing. Those words latched onto Bella¡¯s memory, forever associated with the day she was taken from her Mama and Papa. More than that, though, Bella remembered how they sounded, how Rosita looked when she said them. The words were sincere. Observation [Social, Truth] would have told her otherwise if they weren¡¯t. It always had before. Even so, Bella found no comfort in them. When she was welcomed into Rosita¡¯s home and shown the room that would be hers, she did not marvel at its size. The bed was not inviting. It was large and looming, so she crawled underneath it. That was where she would stay, where she could spend her days missing her Mama and Papa and Will and Aunt Tina and- ¡°You slept all through the night, Bella,¡± Ethel¡¯s voice interrupted the memories that so often threatened to overwhelm Bella early in the mornings. It was nightmares, at first, but every time she woke up she always found Ethel sitting by her bedside with kind words, a gentle touch, and a warm mug of spiced milk. ¡°I did!¡± Bella chirped. Ethel placed a congratulatory hand on her shoulder and it was like a wave of warmth swallowed up all the sadness. Something deep inside her stirred, a brief spike of discomfort that failed to pierce the warmth before it too was swept away. It was Ethel who initially coaxed Bella out from under the bed. Her voice. Her presence. They made Bella feel safe. Understood. It was why the nights were hard, still, and why Bella was so happy that head maids were like roosters. Without Ethel, she knew she would still be under the bed, waiting for her Mama and Papa to somehow magically appear to take her home. They would not be coming, though. They were not allowed. Papa has to look after the sheep. Mama has to look after Papa. And, one day, I am going to help look after them. Ethel had said something similar, and coming from her they actually felt reassuring. Just like her Mama and Papa worked, Bella had to work too - because she was special. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°What would you like for breakfast, Bella?¡± Ethel asked, as she had every morning, and as she promised she would ask every morning for as long as she was able. At first, food held none of Bella¡¯s interest. It was a dull, gray thing buried beneath the fear and anxiety. When she hid under the bed, her stomach ached from days of neglect and she paid it no mind - it did not hurt as much as her heart did. It was only when Ethel came that Bella found room to feel hunger again, to appreciate that the people working at Rosita¡¯s large house would make her anything she wanted, whenever she wanted it. ¡°Can you do the surprise food, again?¡± Initially, she¡¯d asked for familiar dishes from home. Yesterday, Ethel suggested that Bella allow her to surprise her with something different, something new. It was fluffy. It was sweet. It was the best thing Bella had ever tasted in her life and she immediately knew she¡¯d want more. Ethel chuckled at the request. ¡°Of course, dear,¡± she said warmly. ¡°Do you want the same surprise as yesterday or- ¡°The same!¡± Bella didn¡¯t need to hear another option. ¡°Then I shall go and inform the kitchen.¡± Ethel moved towards the doorway, her shoes silent despite the hardwood floors. She turned back before leaving. ¡°Now, do you remember the rules?¡± Bella nodded, confident in her memory. It helped that Ethel asked the question every day. ¡°This is the third floor, it is Rosita¡¯s living space and I am allowed to explore it freely,¡± she parroted the words that had been regularly repeated to her, paraphrasing only slightly. Ethel nodded then gestured for her to continue. ¡°The door you showed me, the one near the stairs, is the door to Ms. Rosita¡¯s office. I am not allowed in there.¡± Bella looked again to Ethel for approval and beamed when she saw it reflected in the woman¡¯s eyes. ¡°Very good, Bella. Remember, though, you are encouraged to simply refer to my mistress as Rosita, for she has graciously welcomed you into her home and-¡± ¡°I do not like her!¡± Bella snapped, eliciting a slight frown from Ethel. No matter what nice things were said about Rosita, she was the one who took Bella away from her Mama and Papa. ¡°She hurt Vigil, she made me and mama cry she-¡± Ethel quickly rushed back to the bed and pulled Bella into a hug. ¡°Shhh, there there. I know. I know.¡± The warmth of that hug helped settle Bella¡¯s surging frustrations and within moments she was leaning into the embrace. ¡°I know there was much you did not understand about that day. When you are ready, I promise to explain it to you.¡± Bella sniffled. ¡°You promise?¡± ¡°I promise.¡± Bella made no effort to release Ethel from her tiny grasp, desperate for the comfort she provided. ¡°How about I help you get ready for the day and you come down to the kitchen with me?¡± She offered. ¡°I am sure they will love to hear how much you enjoyed their cooking.¡± Bella pulled away just enough to look up at Ethel, seeing no hint of deception in her face. ¡°But¡­ I thought I was not allowed to?¡± ¡°Not on your own, no,¡± Ethel said with a soft smile. ¡°It is a different matter if I escort you.¡± ¡°Do I get to wear the pretty dress again?¡± Ethel had taken Bella¡¯s measurements shortly after her arrival. Later that same day, an entire new wardrobe was delivered to her. If she wanted any changes done, Ethel made it happen; her favourite colours, her favourite cuts, Bella need only ask and she would receive. ¡°You may.¡± It had taken some prompting before Bella felt comfortable to ask at all, but Ethel was persistent. Bella was a Crown conscript; she was special, because one day she would use her Skills to help people. It was hard to believe, but not once did Bella detect deception. ¡°Yay!¡± With a shake and a slither Bella freed herself from her bedsheets and scooted off the edge of the bed. It was sad that her parents couldn¡¯t join her in the big city, and it was okay to feel sad, but it was also important to try her best. If so many people thought she was special, she didn¡¯t want to let them down. She didn¡¯t know the specifics of what her role would be, but Ethel had given her a hint. Papa has to look after the sheep. Mama has to look after Papa. And, one day, I am going to help look after them. They would be so proud of her, she knew. It was okay to feel sad, and it was also okay to feel excited about good food and pretty dresses. Ethel had reassured her, and Ethel was to be trusted, after all. ¡°Found you!¡± Bella crowed when she plucked her new favourite dress from the closet. Today is going to be a good day! Book 2 | Chapter 8 For all that I complained, words failed to grasp the sheer bliss I felt when, freshly bathed, I sunk into the depths of my new bed. A satisfied groan rumbled out of me, sounding like a falsetto purr compliments of my adolescent vocal cords. That¡¯s the good shit... Hardships awaited me in the future, of that I was certain. Something as simple as having a bed, a place to return to at the end of every day, would be a balm to the spirit. The existence of those feelings was telling; my affinity for travel was unremarkable. Passable, when necessary, perhaps - but unremarkable. There is a romanticism to travel, to leaving the known behind and venturing into the strange and new. Wanderlust. I once thought I possessed the delightfully named trait, that it was merely the pressures of life - of bills and schedules and that busted garage bulb that needed changing for months - that prevented me from embracing it. Convenient excuses. So many opportunities once passed me by, lost simply because I lacked the motivation to reach for them. Those choices all ultimately led me to the woman I loved- Love, I corrected myself. She was still there. Somewhere, somewhen, or some other word that described the rift between realities I suspected separated us. Every decision I¡¯d ever made led me to her, and I never regretted my life because of it. What if we¡¯d never found each other, though? Could I really have said I was satisfied? Inaction. Stagnation. Pools of water had grown fetid for less, and one cannot help but wonder what might fester in themselves when similarly subjected. Suddenly, the bed felt a lot less comfortable. I can rest when I sleep, I told myself fully aware that I was stating the obvious. Until then, there was more I could be doing; there was always more I could be doing. Travel had disrupted my routine, despite my efforts to salvage it. I could not, would not, allow bad habits to take root. I drew from Perseverance and Recovery in tandem, the resulting surge of mana feeling like a hit of caffeine that tore through my budding fatigue. I sprung off the bed, taking a moment to note the fading light through my window. Fudge needs his dinner. If I head to the kitchens, I should be able to grab a bowl of whatever they¡¯ve thrown together for the evening. Squad Nine were often kept busy, so instead of sit-down meals in the largely unused dining hall, it was each individual¡¯s responsibility to negotiate with the cooks. I was told in no uncertain terms that, as the newbie, the term ¡®negotiate¡¯ was a misnomer of sorts. There would be food - good food - and if it wasn¡¯t good enough for me I could go to bed hungry. I¡¯d almost anticipated the cooks to adopt a similar attitude to the cleaning staff, an eager anticipation to be challenged with unreasonable requests. When I suggested as much, I learned three new curse words and a few creative ways to insult someone with them - as clear an answer on the subject as one could receive. Feeding Fudge was my priority, though. Using the opportunity to grab a meal for myself along the way just made sense. A wave of excitement hit me from Fudge¡¯s end of the Tamer Bond; somehow, he always knew when I was contemplating matters of meals. I chuckled, then, the sound enough to pull me back from the all-nighter I¡¯d been silently planning. I reached down and pressed my fingertips into my thigh, focusing on the sensation and using it to ground myself. Caring for Fudge helped remind me to take care of myself, and I was once again grateful for his presence. ¡°Sort out dinner. Stretch your legs. Play around with the mana lamp on your bedside. Get some sleep.¡± My eyes lingered on the spherical, gemstone-looking object; the mana lamp. It was set in a silvery base and I¡¯d already spotted signs of Spellscript on both, not that I could decipher any of it. Nightfall would justify the luxury item¡¯s use and it was only fear of accidentally breaking the thing that allowed me to abstain until then. Soon, I silently cooed before venturing back into the halls. Fudge was getting impatient. -0-0-0-0-0- A warning growl broke the silence of the night, the sound accompanied by a jolt of alarm through the Tamer Bond that snapped me awake. The foot of my bed bore Fudge¡¯s familiar weight, but that was all I could ascertain. With the curtains drawn, not even the lingering moonlight could creep into my room. I lunged for the mana lamp, flailing for the spellscript that would draw on its stores and bathe the room in a faint, yellow glow. Cruz was in the room, a few steps away from the door I¡¯d definitely locked before coming to bed. A hand was cupped around his closed eyes, shielding them from the light. ¡°You are lucky you did not blind me,¡± he drawled. ¡°Turn that shit off, will you?¡± ¡°What the fuck are you doing?¡± I hissed. If there were any situations that warranted a good swear, I was confident I was in one of them. I made no move to turn off the light. Fudge took the opportunity to hop off the bed, his growl deepening when I addressed our intruder with hostility. ¡°Wake up call. What the fuck do you think I am doing?¡± Cruz was quick to snap back. ¡°Your mutt saved you from the splash - good nose on it.¡± It was then I finally noticed the contents of Cruz¡¯s other hand, a bucket full of what I hoped was water. ¡°Easy, Fudge,¡± I said after taking a calming breath. Creepy or not, the explanation seemed to make sense. I watched as Cruz blinked his eyes into acclimation, a frown plastered on his face. ¡°You did not tell me you have a key to my room,¡± I noted sourly. ¡°That is because I do not.¡± It took him longer than I expected to adjust, but with a final rub of his eyes Cruz gave me his full attention. ¡°Now, where was I? Right.¡± Before I could ask my follow up question, he took a few quick steps towards me. My heart sank as I realized what was coming. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°No! Wait, I-¡± I scrambled to get out of the bed, but wasn¡¯t even remotely fast enough. A torrent of water, chilled by the night air, slammed into me. It left me and my new sheets utterly drenched. ¡°WHY?!¡± My now-wet hair was plastered to my scalp, long enough that I accidentally got some in my mouth when I yelled, leaving me sputtering to spit it out while I squelched out of the bed. Fudge escaped the majority of the deluge and seemed almost disappointed by the fact. PLAY? A familiar impression came through the Tamer Bond and I saw a single, hopeful wag of his tail. Sensing that I no longer viewed Cruz as a genuine threat, he¡¯d grossly misinterpreted what was happening. If i wasn¡¯t so annoyed I¡¯d probably have found it adorable. In response to my indignant question, Cruz just shrugged. ¡°I had the water, so I used it; I would have had to lug it back downstairs otherwise.¡± I felt my eyebrow twitch. ¡°You said that-¡± ¡°Shut up, it is no longer important. You are awake so head outside. Do not waste more time.¡± He ushered me out of the room, cutting off any further objections with a ¡®shush¡¯ such that my annoyance morphed into something distinctly more seething. I took some solace in that, telling myself that anger could keep a person warm if they willed it. I was barefoot, wearing nothing but my underclothes as Cruz marched me onto the manor grounds. Fudge happily trotted after us, taking a few moments to continue his newest endeavour of marking every bush, tree, or shrub he could find along the way. The breeze felt like ice against the damp, and with every step I was convinced my toes grew increasingly numb. ¡°This is not good for my health.¡± ¡°You really struggle with the whole ¡®shut up¡¯ thing.¡± Cruz didn¡¯t even glance my way when he dismissed my complaints. ¡°Use your mana, if you have to.¡± ¡°I-¡± Huh. Between the rude awakening and my general frustration I¡¯d not even considered using my Skills. Temperature was typically addressed with the addition or subtraction of clothing and I¡¯d yet to be in a situation where neither was an option. Perseverance is the obvious choice, I mused, the situation suddenly distant as I plunged into thought. I could also use Recovery if I view returning to a comfortable body temperature as a form of recovery. Probably. I dismissed Taming [Fudge] as a possibility. That is not to say I hadn¡¯t thought of ways I might borrow Fudge¡¯s Skills to combat the cold; even his modified version of the Dog Skill could be useful, given that a shaggy coat of fur seemed to keep Fudge warm just fine. Rather, I could not even pretend to justify such a flippant application of the Taming Skill¡¯s riskiest ability when there were alternatives. Mom would literally kill me. I suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold and drew deeply from Perseverance, letting the mana flood my body guided by my intent. Unlike Recovery, Perseverance would let me function despite the cold as opposed to directly addressing the problem. Every chill, every shiver and blossoming ache were suppressed, relegated to a dim awareness in the back of my mind so long as I kept my Skill engaged. Recovery might have been better suited to the task, but I was partially concerned that trying something new might land me with an underwhelming breakthrough and subsequent Advancement bonus. Not that temperature regulation isn¡¯t important, but still. ¡°Good. You are not completely useless.¡± Cruz¡¯s words pulled my attention back to our trudge through the grass. ¡°How do you know I did anything?¡± ¡°You stopped shivering.¡± The answer left me skeptical. It was dark, and I hadn¡¯t exactly been spasming with every step. ¡°I was shivering that much?¡± ¡°You were shivering enough.¡± ¡°So it has something to do with your-¡± ¡°Shut up. We are here.¡± Cruz stopped walking. There was nothing around that indicated the importance of the location - just more grass. ¡°Are we? I just think you are dodging my questions,¡± I said smugly. Cruz cleared his throat and snorted before hocking a glob of something off to one side. ¡°You go ahead and keep thinking that. Here is the situation: every day you are going to come to this spot before sunrise and work your way through this list.¡± He reached into a pocket and retrieved a folded piece of paper, crisp despite the damp weather, before handing it to me. My eyes quickly scanned the contents and it was all I could do not to scrunch the paper up and throw it at him. ¡°You cannot be serious.¡± ¡°I am.¡± In the pale grey of the predawn light, Cruz idly scratched at his chin, giving no sign that he was anything but sincere. The list was the kind of thing made of a teenager¡¯s bravado - long distance running, exercises repeated ad nauseum, all accompanied by a more mundane list of chores and busywork. ¡°What is this supposed to teach me?¡± ¡°For now? Nothing. It is to keep you busy.¡± There was some solace to be taken from Cruz¡¯s blunt admission. ¡°That is not good enough,¡± I snapped back. ¡°What if I refuse?¡± ¡°Then you will be disciplined.¡± ¡°And then you will be busy disciplining me, I-¡± I caught myself before I let my emotions get the better of me, taking a deep breath that I could watch dissipate into the morning air. My temper had been feeling increasingly thin as of late, which was vexing in itself. ¡°Look. You want to be an awful mentor? Fine. I can manage on my own if I have to but I will need you for some things. There has to be a compromise here.¡± A long moment stretched as Cruz stared at me through narrowed eyes, early morning birdsong undercutting what might have otherwise felt like a tense exchange. Finally, he spoke. ¡°Prove it. Leave me alone for a week. Follow my program without complaint. You do that, I might even be inclined to believe your bullshit.¡± ¡°Deal,¡± I said quickly. To emphasise the point, I turned away from Cruz and started heading back to the manor. If I was going to work through his ridiculous list, I was going to wear shoes while I did it. Book 2 | Chapter 9 ¡°You wanted to see me, Captain?¡± The door to Engel¡¯s office was left ajar, so I announced my presence before showing myself in. If there was a more nuanced procedure I was supposed to follow, it had not yet been taught to me; if it should have already been taught to me, then the responsibility was probably Cruz¡¯s, and if ignorance for the sake of expediency got my unenthusiastic mentor scolded, I was content to consider that an acceptable outcome. I gave a quick wave of thanks to Wynn before closing the door behind me. It was she who¡¯d come to fetch me while I was in the process of moving a small stack of misshapen stone blocks from one side of the grounds to the other - one of the many ridiculous tasks Cruz set for me. Along with the summons, she came bearing the gift of a cold drink and damp towel, without which I doubted I¡¯d have been as close to presentable as I was. The steady stream of Recovery mana helped as well, of course, but kind gestures carried a magic all of their own. Engel looked up from the stack of paperwork on his desk, a solid piece of furniture that looked imposing despite the massive figure that sat behind it. ¡°Recruit! You got here fast. Good. Sit.¡± He gestured at a pair of plain wooden chairs sitting opposite his desk. Their existence spoke of a consideration not strictly necessary for one in a position of authority, but it was not the chairs that demanded my attention. It was the shovels. Almost an entire side of the room was dominated by racks filled with the things. Some were large, the kind of shovels someone might dig a grave with. Others were small, hand shovels often associated with hobbyist gardeners. Most, however, stretched the definition of what a shovel could be, and I wondered if I wouldn¡¯t have recognized them as such out of context. One shovel featured a head wider than a person and almost as tall. Its handle was not straight, rather, it curved back behind the head. Almost like an unwieldy shield. Others featured prongs, spikes and other modifications that might allow them to function as other specialty weapons if one squinted and used their imagination. I openly studied them as I slowly made my way to a seat, and Engel was quick to notice my fascination. ¡°Impressive, are they not?¡± He walked over and grabbed one of the hand shovels, its tapered head and stunted handle making it look like a punch dagger in Engel¡¯s grasp. He slowly mimed lunging towards an invisible foe before placing the tool back in its place, readjusting it a few times until it was just so. ¡°Each one had to be commissioned to my specifications.¡± ¡°Impressive is definitely the word I would use,¡± I agreed, hesitating a moment before I continued. ¡°Would it be acceptable to ask about your Build? The shovels make me curious.¡± Engel chuckled as he returned to sit behind the desk. Seeing him now, there was a certain caution, a gentleness to his movements that had not been present when he confronted Lionel almost an entire week prior. If he¡¯s got Strength [Body] like I suspect, it could be a ¡®world off glass¡¯ scenario, I mused. ¡°Acceptable? It depends on who you ask. Normally, no, but I am not shy about such things. There is little I would gain from overt subtlety.¡± As he talked, he took a moment to realign a stack of paper so that it sat closer to the centre of his desk. I nodded. ¡°In that case I-¡± ¡°Of course, if someone were called into their superior¡¯s office, a smart young man might wait until after they learned the reason before seizing the conversation for themselves.¡± With elbows firmly planted on the desk, Engel slowly interlocked his fingers to emphasise his point before resting his chin on the resulting double-fist. ¡°Are you a smart young man, Will?¡± ¡°I- Yes, sir. What did you wish to speak with me about, sir?¡± I took a seat only to realize that, given my own height, it left me barely able to see above the oversized desk. Reluctantly, I stood back up. Engel¡¯s lip quirked into half a smile. ¡°That was one too many ¡®sirs,¡¯ but I appreciate the enthusiasm. How are you settling into Squad Nine?¡± I hesitated before responding, taking a long moment to consider my answer. If I complained, it might be enough to get me placed with a different mentor; from what I¡¯d been able to gather, Cruz had already been rather vocal about his displeasure with the assignment. Yet they put me with him anyway. Why? There was something I was missing. I had a plan, of sorts, for dealing with Cruz and rocking the metaphorical boat might have done more harm than good. ¡°I believe I am settling in okay,¡± I said slowly. ¡°But?¡± Engel picked up on my uncertainty, not that I was making much effort to hide it. ¡°It is not what I was expecting, sir.¡± ¡°Interesting,¡± Engel said slowly. ¡°How so?¡± ¡°It is about Slayer Cruz, sir.¡± I could be tactful and still voice my concerns. Lionel had led me to believe The Slayers would afford me more freedoms than The Crown, it was time to put that to the test. ¡°I do not believe we are compatible, it is a matter of¡­ enthusiasm, I think.¡± Engel chuckled, then. ¡°Apologies,¡± he said quickly. ¡°I am not laughing because of your words, it is just¡­¡± He gestured vaguely at me. ¡°There is a novelty to hearing a child speak with such consideration. I have a nephew who would have just described Slayer Cruz with a fart noise before storming out of the room.¡± His chuckle turned into something closer to a guffaw, a contagious sound that made me crack a smile of my own. ¡°If it would help, sir, I could do just that.¡± ¡°No, that will not be necessary, recruit,¡± Engel said warmly. He reached down and opened one of the many drawers built into his desk, withdrawing a small, decorative box that he placed between us. He removed the lid, revealing a small stack of what resembled shortbread cookies. ¡°Would you care for an alfa? The box keeps them fresh.¡± I was familiar with the treat, having most recently had one during the party thrown after Lionel finished subduing the tehon. ¡°Where is the caramel?¡± I asked, picking up one of the offered sweets. They were normally a cookie sandwich, of sorts, filled with thick, caramelized milk. What Engel offered me looked more like a single cookie. ¡°Just take a bite.¡± He was watching me expectantly. Not wanting to be rude, I did just that. My eyes went wide as the flavours hit my tongue. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°This-¡± ¡°The cookie was made and baked around a thin filling,¡± he said, sounding proud. ¡°I have no idea how it was managed, but are they not delightful?¡± He pushed the little box closer to me. ¡°Take as many as you want.¡± Despite the presumably small quantity of caramel in the alfa, there was a potency to it, a richness that bordered on decadence. If these are not Skill-touched I will eat my shoes. I reached over and grabbed another one of the cookies for later. ¡°Now, to address your concerns.¡± Engel steered the conversation back to the matter at hand. ¡°It is because of Slayer Cruz¡¯s reluctance that I paired the two of you together. Cruz has his own reputation and circumstances,¡± Engel gestured at me again, ¡°and you are a peculiar presence in The Slayers for reasons I am sure have already been explained to you.¡± I frowned, slightly. ¡°I am not following your logic. Why does that matter?¡± ¡°It matters, recruit, because I am using both of you to illustrate a point. Your success with Cruz - or rather, his success with you - is going to do much to push an agenda I support.¡± Son of a- ¡°So I am being used as a political tool?¡± ¡°Bluntly speaking, yes,¡± Engel said. ¡°It was why I nominated Squad Nine to take you in and offered my support.¡± ¡°I thought Lionel owed you a favour for helping me?¡± ¡°He does.¡± Engel¡¯s expression turned smug, almost predatory. ¡°Just because I would have helped anyway did not mean I was going to pass up the opportunity to get something out of it.¡± Damn. Well played, I guess. There was a lesson to be learned, there, one that gave me an idea. ¡°So, what is it?¡± I asked. ¡°What is what?¡± ¡°The agenda I am helping you push. I imagine my cooperation would be beneficial.¡± I maintained eye contact, my tone implying that the opposite of my inference was also true. A gamble, of sorts, but one I felt confident in making now that Engel had let slip I had value to him beyond his base duties and responsibilities. Engel reached up to rub his chin in consideration, taking a long moment to consider my words. I schooled my face into neutrality and tried not to let Fudge distract me while I waited. He¡¯d been left outside to his own devices, but the deviant nature of our Tamer Bond continued to leave me aware of every bout of curiosity and reaction to a smell or sensation. Congratulations, Fudge, you found more bird shit to sniff, I thought dryly. ¡°Very well,¡± Engel finally said, allowing me to focus back on the conversation. ¡°It is a matter of organisation. How much of our history are you aware of?¡± ¡°Not enough, I suspect.¡± Engel nodded. ¡°I thought as much. We have a library, of sorts, here at the fort. I encourage you to acquaint yourself with it. For now, I will generalize.¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°Back when The Crown referred to the royal family, some generations ago, The Slayers as we are now did not exist. Rather, our responsibilities were wrapped up in the military.¡± I remained silent, content to listen to the entire explanation without interrupting. ¡°Now that The Crown refers to the council and their Chairs, we exist as a separate entity - a pragmatic choice, at the time. When one person could mobilize the entire military with a word, it was not a concern. Suffice to say, that is no longer the case, and we needed - need - the freedom to act and respond to incidents with relative autonomy to be effective.¡± ¡°The problem- No, not a problem so much as- No, it is a problem, especially now. The problem is that The Slayers borrowed heavily from their military roots. They borrowed too much. We should be organizing ourselves more efficiently given our relative lack of numbers, but big changes require many voices, and - among other things - suggesting the disbandment of the squads garnered a lot of vocal pushback. It got a lot of support, too, but there is a divide in our ranks on this issue.¡± A motion to change and the conservative voices that wish to maintain the status quo, a tale as old as time. For all that being reborn in a strange, new world often left me feeling out of place, it was the little things, the constants of the human experience, that made me feel at home. ¡°I still do not see how Cruz and I fit into this,¡± I noted when it became clear Engel was done with the broad strokes of his explanation. ¡°Our¡­ faction, I suppose you would call it, wants to abolish the squads and spread The Slayers out in pairs. We¡¯d divide the map into regions and have each pair be responsible for their little slice, with the capacity to join with other pairs in the event a larger incident needed to be addressed. Each pair would be expected to be autonomous¡­ and be responsible for training an apprentice or two.¡± It finally made sense. ¡°People like Cruz are being used as an example as to why the idea would fail.¡± Engel gave me a solemn nod. ¡°Exactly,¡± he said. ¡°But, if we can show that having that responsibility, with minimal oversight, allowed him to grow as a Slayer and raise a successful recruit¡­¡± he trailed off, letting me fill in the blanks myself. ¡°And me being an atypical recruit? How does that play into things?¡± ¡°Honestly? It is us stacking the deck in our favour.¡± He paused. ¡°Sometimes people play card games and try to-¡± ¡°I understand,¡± I said, cutting him off before he awkwardly tried to explain gambling idioms to me. ¡°Right¡­ Well, given your Core Skill and the fact that we can stretch your training out over several years instead of the usual, more condensed, program you are well suited to succeed despite an inexperienced mentor.¡± His tactful emphasis did not go unnoticed. ¡°I see.¡± I leaned forward, placing my elbows on the desk and mimicking Engel¡¯s earlier gesture, folding my hands together with deliberate slowness. ¡°So, what is in it for me?¡± Engel tensed. ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°You deliberately placed me with someone who is ill-suited to training me,¡± I said. ¡°What is in it for me?¡± ¡°The Slayers shielded you from Crown conscription.¡± ¡°They did, but you are inviting me to participate in matters within the Slayers that go beyond my innate responsibilities.¡± My mouth felt dry. I knew I was about to take a calculated risk, but even calculated, it was still a risk. ¡°What would someone who wants your plan to fail offer me, I wonder?¡± When Engel spoke next, his voice was low. Dangerous. ¡°Did Lionel put you up to this?¡± ¡°In a manner of speaking,¡± I admitted. ¡°But you did, actually,¡± I said. Engel twitched as he realized what I was getting at. ¡°Because I-¡± ¡°Correct.¡± A beat of silence stretched between us, immediately broken by a loud bark of laughter before Engel ruefully shook his head. ¡°Well, then, to answer your earlier vague inquiry: my Core Skill is Tools [Shovel]. Appropriate, seeing as how I dug myself into this one, no?¡± He slammed a hand into his desk to emphasise his point, rattling my jaw as the shock of it travelled up my arms and into my skull. ¡°Lionel may not have put you up to this, but I can see why he took a liking to you.¡± I swallowed the lump in my throat. ¡°Thank you, sir, I-¡± Engel raised a tempering hand to forestall any excitement I might feel. ¡°It was not necessarily a compliment. Now, keep in mind, I cannot directly interfere with your apprenticeship - that would defeat the purpose.¡± ¡°I understand, sir.¡± ¡°There is also the understanding that, by accepting something from me, you are offering your assurance that you will be successful.¡± The good will in his expression was immediately replaced by something decidedly more sinister. ¡°That means there will be consequences for failure. Understood?¡± ¡°I understand, sir.¡± I hadn¡¯t actually considered that I might fail, caught up in the moment as I was. Engel resumed his cheerful demeanor. ¡°Then we can begin negotiations. Did you have a request in mind?¡± I stood a little straighter, fighting to keep the surge of relief I felt from buckling my knees. I may have traded one problem for another, but it was one I¡¯d chosen for myself. That difference meant everything. A smile tugged at my lips. ¡°Something like that.¡± Book 2 | Chapter 10 Writing with quill and ink was similar to writing with a ballpoint pen, but years of experience with the latter had led to some poor habits with the former. I had yet to successfully fill out a page without accidently turning segments of it into a homage to Jackson Pollock. I was writing a list, of sorts, or maybe it was closer to a plan¡­ One more day. One more day until the week I¡¯d promised Cruz came to its end. Despite my success with Captain Engel, there would be no external mediation coming to my rescue. It was up to me- to Cruz and I, to agree to some kind of arrangement that resulted in a successful apprenticeship. To that end, the broad strokes of my strategy were simple; the less Cruz had to do, the more likely I¡¯d be able to squeeze some effort out of him when I really needed it. My mind drifted to the signed document resting in my pocket, the main component of my payment from Captain Engel. It skirted the line of interference in my training, but didn¡¯t quite cross it. The power of requisition. Anything I needed, any resources or services to aid me over the course of my apprenticeship, Engel would cover their cost. Or rather, Squad Nine would. I just need to make sure I don¡¯t abuse it. Engel had been abundantly emphatic on that point, as well as the requirement that I keep accurate records of any expenditures. Fudge wandered over and pressed his nose into my arm, making my most recent stroke on the page turn into a new addition on the blotchy tapestry. ¡°What is it, boy?¡± I asked, exasperated. I already knew the answer. Even without the wagging tail, the distinct sense of excitement and anticipation I felt through the Tamer Bond made it clear; he wanted to play. Fudge did not understand that a day of chores and excessive exercise had left me aching. To him, it was just time I¡¯d spent not giving him attention and affection. Even so, when faced with that excited, dopey face, it was easy to find a hidden reserve of energy. With the lingering dregs of my mana, I willed a quick pulse of Recovery and Perseverance to perk me up while I stored my writing implements. ¡°Come on then,¡± I said. Fudge brought his head low and stuck his rump into the air, excitedly tapping his paws into the hardwood floors as he watched me make my way to the door. When I opened it, he bolted into the hallway and scrambled to make his way outside. I winced when I heard something thud to the ground, thankful only that it wasn¡¯t accompanied by the sound of shattering glassware. As I rushed after Fudge, I passed by Wynn on the stairs, her hair pulled into a tight bun and a look of faint amusement on her face. When she saw me, she gestured down towards the still-open front doors. ¡°I took the liberty of opening the doors for Master Fudge,¡± she said impishly. ¡°Thanks, Wynn,¡± I chirped. ¡°Also, Fudge knocked over a decorative half-column thing in the-¡± ¡°Never you mind, Master Will, I will see to it.¡± She offered me a parting wave and I could only offer an amused smile of my own. None of the other staff did the whole ¡®Master¡¯ routine; Wynn just lived in her own little world and no one seemed bothered by it, myself included. Whatever you have to do to make cleaning up after people fun. Twilight bathed the grounds and Fudge had already busied himself gallivanting around the lawns. I took the opportunity to send a slight touch of mana through the Tamer Bond, knowing that it¡¯d return with Fudge¡¯s Skill list; it had been some time since I checked in on it.
Dog [Fudge] Level 12/20 Durability Level 3/10 Quantum Manipulation Level 2/10
Fudge¡¯s Core Skill had already caught up to Perseverance despite the large head start I had. So far as I could tell, he was utilizing the Skill constantly - simply being brought in a slow stream of proficiency points for the Skill, bridging the gap with quantity over quality. Conversely, his new Skills have barely progressed at all. There was a slight nudge, an occasional bout of inspiration and instinct that came from my Skills. Simply possessing a Skill gave someone a knack for it, but it was intent and practice that enabled someone to develop those Skills into something more. Fudge lacked the intent, the deeper understanding that he needed to be proactive in his Skill usage. I could try to coax him, and for most Skills it might have been sufficient. Quantum Manipulation was somewhat of an outlier in that regard, since even I wasn¡¯t entirely sure as to its scope and the way Fudge might interpret it. He was making progress, but it was slow. In hindsight, giving the Skill to Fudge might have been¡­ hasty. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Too late to change it now, though. I¡¯d been thinking about regrets a lot, about how people tended to regret the things they didn¡¯t do as opposed to the things they did. Looking at Fudge¡¯s Skills, it occurred to me that the notion was just a matter of perspective. Had I given Fudge a different Skill, I might have regretted not pushing for Quantum Manipulation, one of the tools I speculated might be crucial in my efforts to return home one day. As it was, I regretted not taking more time to consider the implications. In that regard, regrets were a lose-lose phenomenon and I would have dismissed them entirely if such things were simply a matter of desire. Durability posed its own problems. There was a simplicity to it, and I suspected much of its growth had come from Fudge roughhousing with the other dogs back at the kennel and his own disregard for safety. In the short term, that was fine, and the Skill could very well save his life - both our lives - one day. The issue was that I needed to help Fudge be more proactive in his development. That meant testing the limits of his durability which, more than likely, would result in pain and injury for the creature I truly believed was the least deserving of either. Cold logic told me that it would be worth it, that if I continued to neglect that facet of his development and it became the reason he was ever seriously hurt I would never forgive myself, but even so¡­ I jogged to one of the garden beds and started hunting for a stick to throw. That is not why I am out here right now, so it is not worth torturing myself over, I told myself, like a coward. Fudge, sensing my intentions, dove into the foliage and found a suitable stick for himself, one that I proceeded to send endlessly careening through the air in an effort to tire him out. I¡¯d throw. He¡¯d chase. He¡¯d retrieve. I¡¯d throw again. The cool air, the slight tug as Fudge always played at fighting for the stick before relinquishing it to me - there was a simple joy to be found in the repetition of it all and my mind, so prone to wandering, drifted back to the matter of Fudge¡¯s Skills. Since Durability remained on the cognitive blacklist for the evening, that meant revisiting Quantum Manipulation. The issue was actually teaching Fudge about his Skill, a challenging feat even without considering that it was built on my borderline science-fiction understanding of the underlying concepts. Tina once told me that the trick to teaching dogs, especially working dogs, was to guide them towards their instincts; purpose-bred dogs tended to have innate qualities that left them suited to their work. In that regard, they tend to train themselves. If my understanding of Skills was even remotely accurate, the mere existence of Quantum Manipulation in Fudge would give him instincts, of sorts, to guide him towards its usage. The fact that he¡¯d somehow already pushed it to Level Two was reason enough to believe that there was some merit to that line of thinking. I started silently rambling to myself as I tried to make sense of my thoughts. I need to guide him. I need to teach him. I need to train- no. I need to guide him. I need to nurture- no¡­ I need to guide him. I need to show him. Show him¡­ huh. I leaned back and hurled the stick, watching it rotate end over end like the gears spinning in my brain. If I could show Fudge an example, give him something to duplicate¡­ With the extra layer of understanding the Tamer Bond grants us, it just might work. There was only one major problem with the idea. Borrowing Fudge¡¯s Skills was possible. I¡¯d already done so accidentally, once, prompting a lecture from Tina in the process. Therein lay the problem. Borrowing Fudge¡¯s Skills, his inhuman mana, for anything meaningful would almost certainly induce the Beast High. I¡¯d need supervision, and even then, I¡¯d seen how even my mother had been impacted by Vigil¡¯s mana. Her silvery hair, her borderline feral countenance, it had taken hours for her to recover to even a semblance of- Fudge had since returned with the stick, but I was too distracted to take it from him, much to his tail-wagging displeasure. System, I thought, conjuring the familiar blue screen.
Recovery Level 9/10 Current Proficiency Points: 899/900
My efforts over the last several days had pushed Recovery to the bottleneck. For the longest time, I¡¯d planned to guide the Skill towards improving my body¡¯s ability to recover from injury, illness, or some other type of physical ailment more effectively than its other applications. The problem with Fudge had shed light on an alternative, one that I felt the allure of with increasing certainty. The Beast High was one of the biggest barriers preventing a person from leveraging the frankly absurd capabilities of the Taming Skill. According to Tina, my Core Skill, Perseverance, would already help in that regard, but what if I pushed that detriment back even further? I could- ¡°Ooph!¡± I recoiled backwards from the sudden impact to my sternum where an impatient Fudge prodded me with his snout. He was immune to my subsequent glare, instead opting to nudge the stick in my direction, rolling it along with his nose. I just laughed at the absurdity of it all. ¡°My apologies, Master Fudge. Of course fetch is more important than potentially deciding on the direction of my Build.¡± Good natured sarcasm dripped from my voice, completely lost on Fudge who was just watching the stick while he tippy-tapped to hold back the imminent burst of speed he was planning to unleash. I didn¡¯t keep him waiting any longer. As the stick sailed away, I conceded that Fudge was right. I still had time to plan out the specifics, and spending time with Fudge was a type of training in itself, one it was important to give my full attention. The emotional bond between Fudge and I was just as important as the magical one. Moreso, even. With an excited giggle of my own, I chased after Fudge and onto the lawn. Book 2 | Chapter 11 Cruz sat opposite me, wearing a frown and the dark greys I suspected constituted the majority of his wardrobe. It had been eight days since we¡¯d last spoken. Eight, not seven. Perhaps foolishly, I¡¯d expected that Cruz would make himself available after the time period we agreed upon ran its course. Instead, he avoided me. Granted, I lacked any actual proof beyond my inability to find him, but even with Fudge¡¯s help Cruz remained impossible to pin down. It wasn¡¯t until Wynn, whom I passed by more than once while searching through the manor, thought to inquire as to my aimless wandering that I was able to achieve a semblance of success. ¡°I will see what I can do, Master Will,¡± she said with a smile after I explained the situation. ¡°Just be sure to come for breakfast in the dining hall tomorrow.¡± I still tried to find Cruz myself, after that, but it remained a fruitless effort. It was why I was pleasantly surprised that, come the next morning, a sour-faced Cruz sat waiting for me. Whatever Wynn had said or done, it worked wonders. ¡°Weasel of a stunt you pulled,¡± Cruz said, reaching up to root around in one of his ears with a finger. I scoffed. Presumably, he was referring to Wynn¡¯s involvement. ¡°Seriously? You are accusing me of behaving like a weasel?¡± It was not the diplomatic start I had been planning, but I could not let the sheer audacity of the comment slide. ¡°If anything, dodging me all day was ¡®weasel-like¡¯ behaviour.¡± ¡°I am not here to waste my time arguing with a kid,¡± he replied quickly, as if he didn¡¯t care to stoop to the level he established himself. ¡°Just say your piece.¡± He withdrew the finger and sniffed at what was almost certainly a lump of earwax before wiping it on his shirt. Seething aside, I nodded, deciding not to comment on the whole earwax thing while I wrangled myself into a rough semblance of composure. After a deep breath, I spoke. ¡°Simply put, I want you to do a little bit of work now and almost no work for the next several years. You make an accurate list of everything I am expected to learn or master or whatever to become a Slayer and I will figure it out from there, with a couple of caveats.¡± ¡°No.¡± Cruz¡¯s reply came almost immediately. ¡°What do you mean, no?¡± ¡°It means that your success would undercut the whole ¡®Slayer Cruz is a bad mentor¡¯ image I am trying to cultivate.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Was that everything?¡± ¡°Wait, so you want me to fail? Why would I even-¡± ¡°Waste your time? Exactly. Quit.¡± He leaned back slightly in his chair. ¡°It solves both our problems that way.¡± I reached out to grab the edge of the table, squeezing tight enough to turn my knuckles white. ¡°That¡­ is not going to work for me.¡± I reached for a less subtle argument. ¡°If you do not tell me, I can just get someone else to-¡± ¡°Nope, you-¡± ¡°Will you stop interrupting me?!¡± ¡°Clearly, I will not.¡± Cruz idly drummed his fingers along the table. ¡°I may not care about our internal politics, but I will not let myself be a tool in them. Especially when some Skill-warped child tries to play me for a fool.¡± I almost denied it, but given what people like Lionel and Bella were capable of, I wasn¡¯t sure if I could get away with a bold-faced lie; clearly, Cruz had some inkling of the broader circumstances. Instead, I doubled down with the truth, giving vent to the frustrations I was no longer able to keep at bay. ¡°So what if I was trying to manipulate you into doing the bare fucking minimum?¡± I snapped. ¡°You want me to sacrifice my future because of your ego? Whatever Skill crawled up inside your clearly unwashed arsehole must be a good one if it makes you think I would be willing to go along with that.¡± My voice cracked, and it was not the most elegant collection of words I¡¯d ever strung together, but damn did it feel good. Before I could say more, a spike of concern stabbed at me through the Tamer Bond. Shit. Sorry Fudge. I am okay. I tried to send him soothing thoughts and feelings but my own bubbling irritation got in the way. While it was enough to prevent Fudge aggressively storming the dining hall, it left him feeling a sort of reckless anxiety; the resulting guilt was like a dousing of cold water. Cruz had been watching me, looking faintly amused at the prospect of a child - the equivalent of a fifth-grader - trying to scold him. ¡°Finished?¡± ¡°Clearly,¡± I spat. Fudge may have helped me simmer down, but I was still firmly of the opinion that Cruz could eat an entire bag of- ¡°In that case, tell me what you are proposing other than the list.¡± I almost snapped my neck from the conversational whiplash. ¡°Excuse me?¡± I sputtered. ¡°Wait, so all of a sudden you are going to cooperate?¡± I did not know what my expression looked like, but some variant of confusion probably covered it. ¡°I read the reports. Your Core Skill is Perseverance and, based on what I just heard, you have no intention of quitting. The effort-to-reward ratio from fighting this too much has officially swerved in your favour, I think.¡± ¡°Just like that?¡± Cruz shrugged, his face back to its default, vaguely irritated settings. ¡°Just like that¡± What a weird guy¡­ On some level, I could appreciate his commitment to working as little as possible but it was baffling to me. Even in my first life, when routines and bouts of intentional focus were practically ephemeral the resulting impact on my productivity was never intentional. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. I blinked the distracting train of thought away, returning my attention to Cruz and the topic at hand. ¡°As well as the list, you meet with me once a week to-¡± ¡°Once a year.¡± My hands briefly flexed into talons at being interrupted again. ¡°Seriously, you-¡± I exhaled. ¡°Fine, once every two weeks.¡± ¡°Once every six months.¡± When I glared at him, he shrugged again, and I was beginning to find the gesture loathsome. ¡°I will cooperate but I will not be used.¡± ¡°Once a month. No more negotiations or I will find you once a month anyway.¡± I looked to Cruz expecting a challenge but the faint amusement had returned. ¡°As I was saying, we will meet once a month and discuss my progress. You answer questions I have, give a demonstration or guidance if I need it¡­ you know - your job.¡± ¡°And other than that you leave me alone?¡± Cruz clarified, his eyes narrowing. ¡°I will leave you be¡­ unless I am acting on someone else¡¯s orders.¡± It was as good as I could offer. Thankfully, it was enough. Cruz nodded in agreement and we sealed the deal with a handshake. I just tried not to think about where his hand had been. Cruz pushed his chair back and moved to stand. ¡°For the record, you still give me the creeps. Now, since we are done, I-¡± ¡°Not so fast,¡± I called out, taking great pleasure in being the one to interrupt Cruz. ¡°I am making today one of your mentor days.¡± Cruz furrowed his eyebrow and I quickly continued, cutting off the argument I knew I was coming. ¡°Think of it this way: The day is already partially over, so by all accounts sacrificing the rest of it will save you the most time in the long run.¡± Cruz silently sat back down, but his glare did not waver. ¡°Save it. I made a deal and I tend to honor those. What do you need? The sooner we get this done, the sooner you will no longer be my problem for a month.¡± He used a foot to hook and retrieve a neighboring chair, pivoting slightly to prop his feet up on it. ¡°I need you to supervise me while I attempt to break through the bottleneck of Recovery.¡± There was no way around it. Sneaking off to attempt the feat on my own would have been irresponsible - rather, more irresponsible - and the one perk of Cruz¡¯s attitude was that he was likely to keep the whole thing to himself. ¡°So you do have that Skill? And you picked it up in the First Tier? It is not like I did not trust the reports but - and you had best get used to hearing this when people learn about your bullshit - fuck you.¡± A finger had been levelled in my direction to eliminate any confusion as to for whom the fuck was addressed. I smirked at that. ¡°Envy looks good on you.¡± Instead of the scowl I was expecting, Cruz instead answered me with a snicker. ¡°Envy? Yeah, feel free to tell yourself that. Also, put on a smile and make like we are playing nice.¡± He took his feet off the chair and nudged it back into its original position. I quirked an eyebrow. ¡°What are you-¡± I cut myself off when, almost on cue, the door to the dining hall opened to reveal Wynn carrying a pair of trays laden with food from the kitchen. The smell of smoked meats and toasted bread set my mouth watering; food prepared by people Skilled in the task was borderline irresistible. Even compared to food from my first life, mana more than bridged the seasoning gap. ¡°Since you two are working so hard I decided to fetch breakfast for you,¡± Wynn crooned as she laid the food out before us. ¡°Are you both getting along now?¡± Cruz plastered a smile on his face that no sensible person would believe to be genuine. ¡°Absolutely. Will is my little buddy, right, Will?¡± His delivery was stiff but Wynn just nodded happily at the obvious lie before looking my way. ¡°Errr, yes, definitely,¡± I sputtered, caught up in the moment. ¡°Delightful,¡± she chirped. ¡°Master Will, with your permission I will now take the liberty of tending to Master Fudge.¡± When I mutely nodded my assent, she beamed. ¡°Then I shall take my leave. Master Cruz. Master Will.¡± She turned to leave, one arm lashing out with the speed of a viper to straighten out the slightly crooked chair next to Cruz as she did so. Cruz and I remained silent until she left. I have so many questions about that¡­ and I don¡¯t think I want the answer to any of them. ¡°Now, tell me about this Advancement attempt of yours.¡± The fact that Cruz decided he would rather offer a helpful prompt instead of discussing what just happened was telling, but I saw no need to disrupt my own pitch to give him grief over the fact. I explained what I knew about the Taming Skill and the Beast High while we ate, leaving out that the only reason I could Skill-share with Taming at all given the Skill¡¯s low level was due to the hyper-specialized variant I possessed. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Cruz chewed with his mouth open, undercutting every other one of my words with the sound of smacking lips. When the discussion turned back to the Recovery Skill and my plan to use it to combat the Beast High, Cruz¡¯ interrupted me with a scoff. ¡°So to clarify, you want to induce the Beast High, push it back with Recovery, and get an Advancement bonus to help you do so in the future?¡± He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. ¡°That more or less covers it, yeah.¡± ¡°And you want me there to supervise and intervene if you go feral or are subject to some other, unexpected side effect?¡± Where is he going with this¡­ I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Correct.¡± ¡°Verbal jabs aside, considering the possibility of failure was equal parts wise and unwise.¡± When he saw the confused look on my face, he continued. ¡°If you have a safety net, you do not need to succeed as much. It can hold a person back.¡± I blinked. Slowly. ¡°I¡­ had not considered that.¡± I was also taken aback by the surprisingly insightful comment. ¡°Well, you have now,¡± Cruz said, taking a moment to snort and clear his throat. ¡°Still want to do this?¡± ¡°I-¡± ¡°Shut up. If you are going to do this, do it right. You end this ¡®mentor day¡¯ crap early today and I make it happen. Agreed?¡± He held out his hand. I didn¡¯t immediately take it. What is this guy¡¯s deal? I was having trouble reconciling Cruz¡¯s inconsistent attitude. I didn¡¯t know what he was planning and it¡¯d mean sacrificing hours of time with an experienced Slayer¡­ but his words about the circumstances surrounding an Advancement made a certain amount of sense. If he can give me better odds at succeeding, I can wait a month before picking his brain again. I reached out and shook his hand before the offer was rescinded. ¡°Deal, but why do you care? I thought you wanted me to fail?¡± Cruz scowled at me. ¡°I wanted you to fail, not die or fall victim to some other ridiculous fate. Fuck, kid, give me some credit.¡± With that, Cruz stood and made his way to the dining hall doors. ¡°I will collect you when everything is prepared.¡± ¡°Okay, and for the record I-¡± Cruz slipped out the door and closed it behind him before I could finish and it was all I could do not to throw my food tray after him. ¡°Okay, no apology then,¡± I muttered to myself before idly picking at the remnant of my breakfast. All in all, I¡¯m going to count that one as a win, I told myself. It wasn''t perfect, but it was probably the best I was going to get.