What Will Be | Book 2 | Chapter 34

Author's Note: An update for folks. It was a transient ischemic attack, more commonly known as a 'mini stroke'. There's been testing, meetings with doctors, all that sucky stuff. Fortunately there are steps that she can take to reduce future risk, but quite frequently mini strokes are omens of bigger ones down the track. I will reiterate my advice from last week. Call a loved one today, just to say hi. I mean why not, right? In any case, thanks for all the support, everyone, it means the world to me.

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You have completed your second Advancement.

You have chosen Mana Sense and Movement as your second Advancement Skills.

To continue your advancement within The System please achieve a recognized proficiency of Level 30 in your Core Skill.

To continue your advancement within The System please achieve a recognized proficiency of Level 20 in your first Advancement Skills.

To continue your advancement within The System please achieve a recognized proficiency of Level 10 in your second Advancement Skills.

Try saying all that five times fast. The only thing dryer than the thought was my throat. I was parched. Contrary to the subjective time I felt within my core space, the waning light coming from outside my window spoke of the passage of hours. I dismissed the wall of System text with a mental swipe but was reluctant to do much else.

“You know I know you are awake, right?” Cruz’s voice came from the far side of the room. I heard the sound of a chair scraping as he stood from it, devoid of any of the finesse I knew my reluctant mentor was capable of. “So hurry the fuck up. Bad enough I had to waste an afternoon here.” 

With a groan, I sat upwards, careful not to use my injured arm. Fudge was still resting at the foot of the bed, and I could tell that rather than rousing he’d cleverly transitioned from trance into nap. 

“And why are you here, Cruz?” My face contorted into something akin to pained surprise. “You were not worried about me, were you?” 

Cruz’s reaction momentarily mirrored my own before one side of his lip curled in disgust. 

“You hit your head or something? No. Your stunt made its way back to me.”

I frowned at that. 

“And?” 

Cruz shrugged. 

“You fucked up by hiding the extent of your plan - now I have to discipline you.” There was something about his tone that made me raise an eyebrow. 

“Are you saying that-” 

“The fuck up was putting me in this situation. Yes.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If anyone asks, I spoke to you about it and made you run or some shit.” Cruz paused to look at me expectantly. 

“Okay?” 

“Fucking, close enough. Seriously, though, if anyone else had gotten hurt you would have been at the wrong end of shit creek. Next time you have to do something dumb with your Skills to Advance them, do not do it in front of an authority figure with a stick in their ass.” That time, Cruz did not wait for a response and was quick to head to the door. I thought that’d be the end of it, but he hesitated with his hand on the handle. 

“New Skills?” He didn’t turn back to face me. 

“Mana Sense and Movement– both grown from Recovery.” 

Cruise grunted a quick acknowledgement. 

“Good.” With that, he slipped out the door, leaving me alone. 

Fudge snorted and kicked his leg out. 

Almost alone. 

My eyes scanned across the room before landing on my desk chair, which Cruz had evidently dragged to an open chunk of the room while I was Advancing. Scattered around its feet were a smattering of toenail clippings. Clippings wasn’t the right word, though; I’d seen Cruz crane his bare foot up to gnaw them off on more than one occasion. 

“Of course…” Even with the reminder of Cruz’s proclivities, I couldn't shake the feeling that, on some level, he was actually concerned about me for a moment there. “Ugh.”   

-0-0-0-0-0-

“I called you a smart young man when we first met here, do you remember?” Engel was not sitting at his desk. Rather, he was standing behind it, leaning on a shovel to support his weight. It was a tool free from much adornment, given the otherwise flashier pieces in Engel’s collection. Its head bit into the stone floor just enough to give it purchase.

“I remember, sir.” It had been a long time since Engel’s desk blocked my vision. While not quite the body of an adult, neither was my body that of a child’s, not anymore. 

“When you convinced me to approve your excursion into The Forest, you called upon the goodwill you earned over the years.” 

“That is correct, sir.” 

“Yet despite that goodwill, you misrepresented your intent, potentially risking the wellbeing of fellow Slayers and a non-combatant in the process.” 

“I would not say I ris-”

“Is that correct, recruit?” There was a weight to the words, for they were layered with authority. 

My lips drew a thin line on my face. 

“That is correct, sir.” 

“Has Cruz seen to your punishment yet?” 

“He has.” 

Engel exhaled, then, a slow, exasperated thing. 

“Barely a consequence, then.” Seeing the question in my eye, Engel continued after a brief pause. “If I were to dish out something more appropriate, it would undermine Cruz’s role as your Master. It would be like abandoning years of otherwise promising results. So now, according to the proposed protocol, Cruz should be punished for not adhering to our standards.” He leaned forward to smack the top of his desk for emphasis, the sound resounding loudly through the office as it bounced off the myriad shovel heads hanging on display.

“But?” A muted consequence was within the realms of my expectations, but not because of Cruz. I’d been betting on my value in other ways; presumably, arrangements and promises regarding my upcoming presence in Sentrodah had long since been made. 

“That is none of your concern, recruit,” Engel said back, rather bluntly. Already, the depletion of my goodwill was making itself known. 

“Understood. Sorry, sir.” There was no point arguing the matter. Cruz would be fine. He was the jackass too valuable to fire and he knew it. Honestly, I wasn’t surprised that the militant roots of The Slayers were breaking down within a few generations of their conception. I’d have wagered that every squad had their version of Cruz.

And I suppose I am becoming one as well, in a sense. It was an upsetting thought.

“Your Advancement went well?” 

“It was.” Engel gave me the nod to continue, so I rehashed the experience for him. “... which leads us here.” 

“Well thank The System you did not stray too far from your plans on this, ey?” Engel released the shovel entirely but it stayed standing as he finally moved to sit at his desk. “I had a hunch you would choose Movement– should have trusted my gut on that all the way.” He dug out a stack of paperwork from the greater pile.

“Meaning?” I quirked an eyebrow. 

“Meaning that it is a hassle, and you have now shown that you are growing into someone who gives me hassles.” Engel exhaled, slowly. “Then again, you are still growing. Just do not give me reason to think of you as a hassle in the future.” 

“Understood, sir.” 

“This is the declaration we discussed earlier.” Engel slid the stack of papers my way. “You promise to refrain from manipulative applications of the Skill and all that. This is the copy still barely legible by us mere mortals before the lawyers and bureaucrats get a hold of things, but so far as we are concerned here this is the one that matters.” He punctuated each point by tapping the stack with his index finger.

“So read and sign?” 

“Read and sign. It is not Skill enforced, but we will be monitoring the terms.” 

“Naturally.” Skill-enforced contracts were a thing, but the mana costs involved usually limited them to notifying someone when the terms were breached. Usually. Blanca had informed me of a few unpleasant exceptions when I quizzed her on the matter. “I presume I can take my time-” 

“Yes, yes,” Engel waved off my question. “Take it back to your rooms, have someone review the terms if you must, just have it back to me within a few days. I will need to send one of the copies - make sure you sign the copies - to Sentrodah for processing before you depart.” There was no question as to if I would accept the terms in his tone. 

Engel was right to assume as much, of course. There weren’t any reasonable alternatives available to me. 

“Speaking of my upcoming departure…” I trailed off expectantly. 

“Your guidelines remain largely unchanged,” Engel confirmed. “You will be rubbing elbows with old money and new talents both, the more support you can garner for The Slayers, the better.” The more I learned about the Crown Academy, the more it sounded like a political melting pot than a place of learning. 

“But in the process of doing so I must be mindful not to damage the reputation or independence of The Slayers,” I finished, parroting what Engel told me the first few times he gave me my instructions. 

“Exactly. You represent us, but you have no authority to promise anything to anyone on our behalf.” Engle gave me a flat stare. “Do not test this.” I repressed a slight wince. It was the first time he’d reiterated that particular warning.   

“Understood, sir.” 

“On the matter of representing us, though-” Engel held up a finger while he opened a drawer and withdrew a small parcel. “It is about time you received your medallion. We do not normally give these to recruits, however we do plan to give them to apprentices, who may need to act with more autonomy.” 

“Seriously?” That did catch me by surprise. The medallion in question was one I had first spotted when Cruz flashed it to a pair of guards that night he took me out to break through Recovery. They were a status symbol, a badge of authority. 

Engel unwrapped the package, revealing a wooden disk carved with the symbol of an unadorned shield, a tangle of dried briar wrapped around its width. The Slayers were a barrier, but we weren’t a pretty one. It looked almost identical to Cruz’s, and presumably every other Slayer’s as well, with one notable difference. 

“The colour, it-” 

“It is carved from ash, not ebony,” Engel explained. “Strong. Flexible. Perfect for our newest members.” He gave me another hard look. “Do not abuse it.” 

“It would be hard even if I wanted to, not until people learn to acknowledge the new medallion colour- not that that is the only thing stopping me.” I was oddly excited by the whole affair, it was a level of recognition that felt so much more official than the last several years. 

“I would not worry about that. It is being seen to, now-” Engel held up the medallion. “There is no official ceremony in place for these yet and there will not be until we finalize the restructuring. Yes, it is going well. In any case, congratulations.” He handed me the medallion which I took without further fanfare, slipping the cord it hung from over my head. 

“Thank you, sir.” I let the briar shield sit in the open for a few moments before tucking it away, as I assumed was appropriate; I’d not met any Slayers who wore theirs out openly.  

“Someone will come to check in with you once you are settled in the Crown Academy, but yes, that is all for now.” He straightened something on his desk before carefully refolding the fabric my medallion was wrapped in. “That means you are dismissed.” 

“Yes, sir, thank you, sir.” I stood and was quick to see myself out, almost tripping over Fudge in my haste, who had planned himself in the walkway just beyond the office door. It was only when I was halfway down the hall that I realized I’d left the contract on Engel’s desk.