What Will Be | Chapter 70 & 71 (End of Book 1)

Author's Notes: Hello Patrons! After much writing and re-writing I ended up settling on wrapping things up in two chunky chapters (by my standards) so all said and done here is about 6500 words to bring the main story of Book 1 to a close. I have a few potential bonus/ 'after credits' chapters in mind for Patreon and the eventual KU release, and I will post them once they are written. I am now officially done with the responsibilities I had to my day job (save a few small things that still need to be stamped and signed off, but they are more or less on autopilot now). Moving forward I get to spend my days writing, editing, and all that fun stuff. I cannot wait to start sharing book 2 with all of you! Patrons, until I start posting book 2 content the Patreon will remain paused, so definitely hang around for updates and little bonuses here and there.

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 so 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.

“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,” 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

“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 gracefully 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. 

“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.