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What Will Be | Book 2 | Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2025-01-30 15:38:56 +0000 UTCAuthor's Notes: Another day, another pre-release chapter for all of you wonderful people. If you are in the Discord, I dropped the working-cover I'll be using over on RoyalRoad for those who are interested in such things. It also includes the title drop which I will add here as well.
What Will Be
Book 2: The Fifth Stage.
Enjoy the chapter!
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“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.
***
“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 of 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.
“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, 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 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 but 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 to share.
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 fu- different looking?” A different kid’s sudden question interrupted my thoughts and, once again, I sighed.
It’s going to be a long night.
***
It was, indeed, a long night, one I cut blissfully short when I excused myself to the room provided to Lionel and I 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 a yes.
Comments
Christopher Silvestro
Recovery is pulled up in a second box to show Will is looking at it specifically for the points total (as opposed to the simplified list). Without the graphic, though, it does look a little off. I will make note of that. Getting through the bottleneck is how you hit LVL-10, then you plateau there with minimal gains until hitting the next Tier. For Taming, it was Will accidently hyper-specializing his Skill by shoehorning some rough quantum-concepts into the Tamer Bond.
Hammy
TFTC, You accidentally put Recovery twice. Also what does he need again to beat the LVL-10 bottle neck on Tamer bond?
