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What Will Be | Book 2 | Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2025-02-03 15:00:00 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note: Today marks the launch of Book 2 on Royal Road and the addition of a new Patreon Tier. If you want to further support What Will Be and read further ahead, that is now an option. It is starting off as $10 for 10 chapters, but it is my plan to gradually increase the number of advanced chapters available to both tiers now that I have more time to write.
Some additional good news: What Will Be has been picked up by a publisher and, while it is still early on in the process, it will eventually be making its way to Ebook and Audiobook formats. Thank you all so much for your continued support and valuable feedback - it means the world to me.
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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 with one unenthusiastic footstep after the other. It 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 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.
***
“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, and I could tell he took no joy in the conversation.
I scowled, a flash of unexpectedly potent fire rushing through me.
“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.” He sighed.
“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.”
***
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, one that I cared not to revisit and one Lionel bore silently. 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. Despite the uncomfortable atmosphere, self-reflection - finally - granted insight.
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 all but the worst restrictions imposed upon me by my form. 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.”
“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.
***
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 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.”
***
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. It was not long before the gate started to slowly swing open.
