What Will Be | Book 2 | Chapter 28

Author's Note: Thank you all for your support. It means the world to me. Chapter is a little late today. I lost track off time fiddling with an idea I had last night - yet another future story to add to my pile of W.I.Ps until I finally decide which one I want to make my primary focus after WWB.

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Cruz guided me to the gates. We were leaving the grounds. Palo was manning the gate, as he usually was during the day. The young man had recently taken it upon himself to make toys for Fudge, since at least one of his Skills involved working with the bundles of wool - in its myriad forms - that he kept in the gatehouse. 

Fudge’s enthusiasm when playing had resulted in a tragically short lifespan for the parade of plush rabbits, bones and other shapes. To Palo’s credit, he took the destruction of his labor as a challenge, igniting an arms race, of sorts, between Fudge’s teeth and the durability of Palo’s creations. 

As it was, Palo and I just exchanged a quick greeting before he opened the gate. Unfortunately, a pleasant conversation could not often survive Cruz’s presence. Fudge cared not for such things, though, and made sure to rush Palo for pats, his tail happily wagging for the one who supplied him with new toys. 

-0-0-0-0-0-

I held my new knife at my side, increasingly conscious of the unfamiliar weight and the reality that I was carrying a potentially deadly weapon. It was heavier than the training weapon I’d been practicing with. 

“They say you can tell how green a person is by how much attention they give their weapon,” Cruz said, as if reading my mind. I was walking just behind him, and so far as I could tell he hadn’t turned to check on me. We were making our way around the inner wall of Dorbe, and I could only assume we were going to leave the walls. 

With a slight flinch, I tightened my grip on the sheath. Cruz’s observation only served to make me more aware of how awkward I must have looked. It was like being told not to think of a giraffe wearing rollerblades.  

“I have been meaning to ask for a while now,” I started, thinking that conversation might help me relax enough to stop looking ridiculous, “how do you keep doing that? Wait. Ignore that. I know how you are doing it broadly speaking, so let me rephrase… What type of perception enhancing Skill are you using?” 

Cruz remained silent for several steps. Before I could repeat my question, a man hauling a crate rounded a corner, so we all shuffled to one side for ease of passage. 

I wonder what’s in the crate. The idle thought gave me an idea, one I was forced to pencil away for later. That could be a fun way to practice with Fudge’s senses later.

“Tell you what, you manage to not fuck up this next thing and I will tell you.” Once again, Cruz didn’t look back to speak, instead opting to speak loud enough to be heard regardless. 

“Deal.” I could have made some argument about our old agreement regarding his obligation to answer my questions, but I was wary of pushing my luck. It was the closest Cruz had gotten to behaving like my mentor in months, and I didn’t want to jeopardise that. Cruz grunted, and I knew that was the last I’d be getting out of him until we got wherever we were going. 

-0-0-0-0-0-

We ventured into the treeline, following trails I recognized from my lessons with Nance. The outskirts of The Forest were, on their own, expansive; we could have spent the rest of the day walking Westward without risking passage into the First Ring. Nance had never taken me quite that far given the potential risks involved, but it gave me a new appreciation for scope. Before I was Will, I’d seen wilderness from afar; I’d craned my neck skyward in concrete jungles; I’d seen the world from above through the window of a plane; but what I’d never done was be so completely surrounded by trees and greenery. 

Every footfall crushed the undergrowth with an audible crunch. There were ways to move quietly, of course, but even though Nance had taught me the basics, I was not practiced enough to properly attempt them without slowing to a crawl. With the way Cruz trundled ahead of me with no care for noise, I was forced to follow suit. 

Even with the sounds of our passage, there was a tranquillity to it all… one I knew could be shattered at any minute. Once we were in the Forest, I was on high alert. I paid close attention to the Tamer Bond, for, like me, Fudge was equally attentive. I briefly considered borrowing Fudge’s mana to get a better sense for the world, but ultimately decided against it. I was improving with the technique, but a spontaneous field test, done on the move, felt unwise. 

Cruz will notice any problems before they become problems, though, a small voice whispered to me in the form of an errant thought. I was mad at myself for even having it. Technically true though it may have been, I didn’t want to let myself grow complacent. Was I perhaps a bit too unedge? Almost certainly, but I preferred that to the alternative. 

At least the birdsong was pretty. 

-0-0-0-0-0-

Fudge caught the scent of something. I felt it through the Tamer Bond. I saw it in the turn of his head. Where before he’d been zigging and zagging from one smell to the next, occasionally taking a moment to pause and inspect, he grew focused for he had found something that demanded attention above all else. He did not run forward, but neither did he walk. It was closer to a trot, and perhaps unsurprisingly his path took him past Cruz. 

“Do you know what grabbed his attention?” I called forward. Fortunately, Fudge did not roam too far, for I had not given him his release command. Instead, he paused but did not look back, for his focus remained on what lay ahead. 

“I do,” came Cruz’s reply. “Stay alert.” There was no other instruction and neither did he slow. Instead we continued onwards, with Fudge moving ahead of us in bursts before waiting for us to catch up. As the minutes passed by, I strained my unenhanced senses to no avail, for to me the complex aroma of The Forest remained impenetrable. Knowing the complexity and nuance that remained veiled to me was vexing, but I took solace in the knowledge that it was a problem I could one day alleviate.

For now, I just have to rely on Fudge… and Cruz too. Technically. 

Fudge’s ears perked up. He heard something. Each ear flickered and his head tilted from side to side in a way that would have been adorable in another context. Before long I heard it too. It was whining noise that came across as distinctly canine. 

“Almost there,” Cruz noted, his voice devoid of any tension. He sounded just as annoyed as he did most days, as if we were still in the dining hall and not a couple of hours outside of Dorbe. There was an air of routine about him. 

The sounds grew louder, and it wasn’t long before we found their source. Fudge growled low in his throat, a warning for me to be careful. We came upon what looked like a large wolf, easily rivaling the likes of Vigil in size, but its inky black fur told me it was something else entirely. If it was what I suspected, then its eyes would be slit and its bite would be venomous. 

It was also suspended off the ground and dangling in a large net. At the sight of us, it started to thrash and snarl in an effort to scare us off. Fudge put himself between the two of us, but it was clear to me that the creature, what I suspected to be a bralo, wasn’t an immediate threat. It looked like it was scared. It looked like it was in pain. There was a blood stain on the ground beneath it. 

Cruz clicked his tongue.

“Well, here we are,” he said. “Engel got on my case, something about realistically having an opportunity to talk with Slayers a few times a year for advice, so I took you out today to shut him up.” 

“I take it the net is yours?” I don’t know why that was the first thing I asked. I was still trying to make sense of the situation. 

“One of many.” He strode over to inspect the tree the net was connected to. “I am not in the mood for too many questions, so before you ask, one of my Skills involves traps. That is why I do not leave Dorbe much - they do not travel well.” He sniffed loudly, all the while the bralo continued to struggle. Cruise paid it no mind. 

“Anyway,” he continued, “this thing should be nice and weak from blood loss. Go ahead and put it out of its misery.” He placed one hand on a thick bit of rope attached to the structure and did something with his hand; I wasn’t paying too much attention, since my gaze was firmly locked on the suffering animal. 

What I did see clearly was the aftermath. Under Cruz’s touch, the net tightened around the bralo even as it lowered closer to the ground. Parts of its flesh were pushing through the gaps, looking like a bound ham. It yelped in pain, and I finally saw the barbs in the netting dig themselves firmly into the trapped creature. I saw the panic in its eyes. The desperate desire for life that all living things shared on some level. 

“There we go, made it nice and easy for you,” Cruz noted. “Be quick now or it will suffer longer. Start near the back of the neck, push forward and through to the front.” 

“I… this…” Fudge pressed himself closer to me, possibly mistaking my growing dread for something related to the potential danger of the situation. 

“This is the job. Anything gets too close, we kill it. We try to do this as quickly and efficiently as possible. If you fight something fairly, you fucked up. This bralo dies today. No changing that. It strayed too close to the people we are charged to protect; you just decide how long it has to suffer.” 

What the actual fuck, Cruz?! There was no time to think it over. What Cruz said was true. Even if I turned and ran, best case Cruz would quickly kill it and not keep it in pain as some kind of macabre lesson. 

I urged Fudge to wait as I stepped towards the dangling bralo. My grip on the sheath was white-knuckle, and when I withdrew the knife with my free hand it came smoothly. I reached for my Skills, almost on reflex, but caught myself. 

That would be wrong. I would blame the act on the Skills. This has to be all me. 

Every whine of the bralo stabbed at my ears. Pre-emptive guilt threatened to overwhelm me. I wanted those last few steps to last forever so that I might be spared the destination, but fate was not so kind. I knew what being a Slayer would entail, Lionel had spelled it out… I just hadn’t expected to face it so soon.

I held the knife out. Either by chance or design, the bralo was contorted such that I could easily position my weapon according to Cruz’s instructions. It was only then that I drew from Perseverance, not to give me the strength to follow through with the act, but to not flinch at the last second and botch the kill.  

“I am sorry,” I whispered before mustering every ounce of strength I could to execute a creature that was at my mercy. The knife slid in with surprisingly little resistance. Blood welled from the massive wound, spurting onto my hand. The bralo gave one final gurgling yelp, shuddered, then grew still. A corpse dangling from a tree. 

I sunk to my knees, letting the bloodied knife fall from my hands. I didn’t feel heroic. I felt like a monster. Cruz said something, but I didn’t hear it. 

Fudge was on me in seconds, laying close in wordless support. I looked down at him. Even without the Tamer Bond, I felt compassion for the sanctity of life. With it… to me, Fudge was no different than a person. I couldn’t believe that and not consider the life of the bralo equally valuable beyond my feelings for Fudge.  

If all that I needed to take a life was the desire to protect someone, or a sense of duty, did that mean I’d be able to do the same to a human if I had to? I’d never so brazenly taken a life before. In my first life, I had never planned to, either. I looked down at my hands, one covered in blood, the other surprisingly clean. At that moment, I didn't recognize either.