What Will Be | Side Chapter 3

Author's Note: Thank you for all your continued support. This chapter was a fun one to write. Sometimes an old friend can bring out a part of you once thought lost to the past, for better or worse. Thanks for reading!  

“Gardeners are among the most praised of the System-Faithful, though I must admit I found it strange to learn they did not refer to themselves as Arborists. To be accepted into their ranks is to devote one’s life to the cultivation of all things green, and to offer guidance to those who similarly cultivate a tree in their core space.”

~Unknown

Lionel

What does it mean to ruminate on reunions? Musings of meetings, planned or unplanned, were once the source of idle daydreams for Lionel. Those whom he held dear would share their triumphs while he regaled them with his. Scorned relationships would know of his growing prowess and Lionel would allow himself momentary pleasure at their poorly restrained regret.

Curious, then that reality seldom aligned with such fantasies. Perhaps curious was not the right word, for that too would be too simple. Simple was a luxury. Reunions were a disappointment, and it all started with Yulia.

Yulia, that deceptive pile of discarded- Yulia, who promised forever while it was convenient. For Lionel, reunion was to be catharsis. Instead, she flaunted her loving husband and two children, a dirty knife to a barely healed wound. It was a thing worthy of jest. Truly, it was. One just needed to find the humor first. Lionel had gotten good at finding the humor.

Long past were the days old friends and older acquaintances reached out to Lionel to share in their happiness. Those reunions became dominated by crisis and a poorly veiled attempt to leverage his position. Unless his responsibilities demanded otherwise, that correspondence had long since been ignored.

Tulos was the one exception. Leionel’s office desk-drawer contained a small stack of letters detailing the gentle giant’s life since he returned to Elbura. The letters were mundane. The letters were brief. There was nothing interesting about them, especially when compared to the more exciting life a Slayer led.

Lionel cherished those letters.

There were precious few that cared for the man beneath Lionel’s rank. Those were the friendships worth fighting for. It was why when Tulos sent a letter for reunion, one laced with concern for the son he so fondly wrote of, there was nothing that could have kept the Slayer-Lieutenant from coming to the aid of his best friend.

***

Lionel watched as Will returned to the house. The dog - Fudge, the boy had called the thing - dutifully followed after him.

“How long has he had the Tamer Bond?”

“Less than a month,” Tulos replied proudly.

Pride was the right emotion. While not Skilled in Taming himself, Lionel was loosely familiar with the magics involved. It was not Skill-enforced subservience, though many had attempted to make it so. There should have been more friction between the pair, especially considering their age. Lionel made a note to ask Tina about the subject before leaving. Perhaps it was the boy’s Core Skill at play.

Perseverance. A younger Lionel might have felt a pang of envy at the revelation. It was the kind of Core Skill people dreamed of having, if only because of the freedom it bestowed. All things had a cost, though. Will’s accelerated maturity was concerning, but even so…

“Once I tell the Old Man about Will’s Skills, I am confident he will intercede,” Lionel admitted. “Of all the privileges The Crown ceded to us, I suspect it is the one they most regret.” Not that anyone still breathing was present when the first agreements were recorded thrice.

“There is some comfort in that,” Tulos replied after taking a slow puff of his pipe. He hadn’t noticed that its well had run dry. It had been years since Lionel last spoke to his old friend in person, but he still recognized Tulos’ tells.

“Some, but not much. Perhaps, not enough,” Lionel countered. He sprung to his feet and pointed a dramatic finger at Tulos. “Speak plainly, or you will soon perish beneath the weight of your concerns.” Lionel pulled on the mana within his core, and it greeted him eagerly. Lungs shaped intent and carried his will into the world upon a gentle whistle. It was an airy note, barely audible and on the edge of perception. It resonated with the air and rode the breeze, drawing strength from both - and Lionel’s mana - to sustain itself. Neither Tulos nor Lionel would hear the whistle as it echoed around them, but it was all anyone who attempted to eavesdrop would be able to discern.

“And with that, I have secured our privacy,” he announced smugly, cutting off all avenues of social cowardice. Sadly, Tulos’ mana lay silent in response to the Spellsong.

How far the gap between us has grown, Lionel realized. It would be short-lived, but he suspected temporarily out-muscling his old friend was within the realms of possibility, providing he threw enough mana at the issue. When they were younger, such a prospect would have been laughable.

Tulos took some time to consider the call to honesty.

“Is there no other option?” he eventually asked.

And so we come to the crux of the issue, Lionel thought approvingly. Sometimes it took theatrics to get Tulos to open up. The mood had to be so excessive that even a stoic response would be elevated by virtue of association.

“There are always other options,” Lionel said enthusiastically, only to abruptly sit back down and sigh. “The problem is none of them are particularly attractive, unfortunately. It is quite possible he would thrive under the tutelage of The Crown, though.” Their methods were occasionally extreme, but the results spoke for themselves.

“Perhaps…” Tulos ceded the point, but Lionel could tell it hadn’t swayed him. “Even so, I will not have him become a tool.” An oversimplification of the situation, but Lionel wasn’t going to rehash that conversation. Personal biases were difficult to overcome.

“He will need to make the choice when the moment comes, but I am confident we will accept him. If you genuinely wish to improve his odds…” Lionel started to trail off. It was a momentary lapse in conviction, one born of fear quickly crushed beneath the boot of experience. “If you start training him in the foundational forms - the absolute basics - it will go a long way. He is a Tier-1 now, so there should not be any detrimental effects to his physical growth, especially considering the Build he seems to be developing.”

Tulos froze.

“You know I cannot-”

“Yes, Tulos, you can,” Lionel cut him off. His gaze grew hard as it bore into the larger man. “You have your boundaries, and you know I support them, but using your Skill to teach your son how to protect himself is not the same as taking a life.” It was harsh, but sometimes people needed harsh.

Tulos looked away, staring at the ground for a long moment. He was eerily still, like a giant statue.

“I can try-”

“No, Tulos. You will.” Lionel stood and closed the distance between them. “If I am going to do all I can for Will, then as his father you need to do the same.” Lionel realized he was talking to Tulos like a subordinate who needed to learn a lesson. At that moment, it felt fitting.

“But-”

“No. No buts. Just do. Anything else would be a waste” Lionel whistled deeply. The tone was heavy, and that weight slammed into Tulos from above. With a grunt, Tulos was forced off the log and onto his knees. It was a cruel flex of power, but a necessary one.

“Lionel… what… are you…” Tulos braced himself with his palms to avoid having his face slammed into the ground. His muscles tensed, but Lionel just fed more mana into his song to keep him down.

“We will not baby him, Tulos,” Lionel said coldly. “Our life is not a safe one, and freedoms come with a cost.” Dust swirled around the campsite, and the horses winnied nervously at the aggressive display.

Tulos grunted as he strained against the force.

“Let… me… up…” The pressure made it difficult for him to speak in a full sentence. Every breath was labored.

“Or what?” Lionel taunted. “You cannot even muster the will to fight for your son.” That’s when he heard it.

Tulos’ mana surged, and his core began to empty at an alarming rate. His arms began to straighten. Every second he pushed back against Lionel’s magic required an absurd portion of his mana, but it was working. With a final push, Tulos raised his head. There was a dangerous glint in his eye.

There he is, LIonel thought proudly. There was still a fire in Tulos if one knew where to look for it. With a second whistle, Lionel’s spell vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared.

Tulos’ core was almost empty, and beads of sweat rode down his hair to drip onto the dry earth.

“I understand,” was all he said. Lionel believed him.

Pix

Leaving Lionel to reunite with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Massive meant that, for the first time in days, Pix was able to experience a world unbothered by constant theatrics. Lionel was a man whose accolades inspired whiplash in all who tried to reconcile his involvement in their acquisition. She tightened her grip on her spear and used it to sweep aside a stray branch with far more force than was necessary.

“You seem tense,” Mira commented shamelessly, so Pix shot her an accusing glare. Her mentor was well aware of her opinion regarding their tagalong.

He’s not even the Lieutenant of OUR Squadron, she seethed. Certainly, Lionel should not have been allowed to intrude on their assignment, right? No, that would make far too much sense. So of course her Commander pulled her and Mira aside less than an hour before they were due to depart to inform them of the Lieutenant’s impending arrival.

It meant endless hours of listening to his annoying voice or looking at his annoying blue eyes or being distracted by his annoyingly perfect teeth or-

“This is the place,” Tina’s announcement interrupted her roiling hatred for the man.

“Already? I know the report mentioned the attack happened close to the borders, but this…” Mira trailed off as she took in the scene. There were still signs of the conflict. The trail of scorched greenery was especially telling.

This is one of the worst cases yet, Pix thought grimly. Beasts moving beyond their Rings happened, of course, but it was rare. The regular culling efforts were implemented to prevent populations from expanding beyond their usual territories.

Tina’s bonded animal raised its hackles as it investigated the area, while the woman herself seemed content to wait until she was needed. The report indicated she had disposed of the fueha herself, which was an admirable feat.

Pix took the opportunity to move in close to Mira.

“This is bad, right?” There were few explanations for sudden increases in wandering Beasts. None of them were pleasant.

“It is,” Mira confirmed. “We will push further into the Forest to be thorough, though.” She raised a hand to her mouth and idly chewed on one of her fingernails.

She’s nervous, Pix noted. Mira often argued that long fingernails made digging her fingers into stone uncomfortable, but everyone knew the habit wasn’t purely utilitarian. Anything that could put Mira on edge was serious.

“Would you be willing to accompany us for a while longer?” Pix called out to the Tamer. “Receiving a first-hand account of the events could be useful.” It usually wasn’t, but just because some Slayers felt it was appropriate to dance around procedure didn’t mean she had to follow their lead.

“Of course,” Tina called back and started moving to rejoin with them.

Pix knew a full sweep of the area would take days, but it would be necessary to ensure the short-term safety of the locals. Fueha were dangerous, but they were not the most troubling denizens of the Outer Ring. If anything else had strayed so far into the Fringes, they needed to find it.

Weapons [Spear] glowed in Pix’s core space as thoughts of defending herself played across her mind. The Skill felt dull compared to most of her others, a symptom of poor Synergy. It was a reminder of the rash choice she made in her youth, even though the Skill had proven its value more than once despite its inefficiency. Idly, she wondered how brightly Lionel’s Skills must glow.