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What Will Be | Chapter 38
🕑 Added 2024-03-26 16:30:01 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note: Thank you all for your continued support! This was a fun chapter to write, so I hope y'all enjoy reading it.
“Every morning, I review my System gains as part of preparing myself to face the day. Every evening, I review them 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. 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 functional 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 their activities, 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 then.”
“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.
“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 deduce 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. 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.” It was shameless, but 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 seemed 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, but something about the paper was alluring.
“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.
Comments
Hammy
Fully agreed. I guess that maybe the climax of arc one is acceptance of that lose. Great chapter though and I like the Uncle. He interesting
aaab1422
I'm glad will is on the path to self healing, though it does mean he's probably gonna have to accept the reality of losing his old life.
Hynao
congratulations
Nomad
First comment on here as well! Now to go read the chapter haha
