What Will Be | Chapter 53

Author's Note: Thank you all for your continued support! It means the world to me. I spent a bit of time this week fiddling around with the blocking for one of the final conflicts of Book 1. The first book will probably clock in around - at least - 200k words based on how things have progressed so far in comparison to my (very) broad outline. Should be fun.

“It is with some disappointment that I must now announce the results of your recent examination. Let me be clear; this is not a misdirect. There will be no sudden upturning of my lips or clever turn of phrase in which I reveal that you all, in fact, did a marvelous job. Evidently, I overestimated the capacity for comprehension possessed by my students. It shall not happen again.”
~Unknown 

Fluttering eyes and the sluggish return of awareness; like a drunk noisily stumbling into their neighbor’s house at 3:00am, rousing remained a clumsy prospect. Yet in that disarray existed a moment of pure detachment, a glimpse at enlightenment. 

Disconnection. In the moments before the conscious ‘self’ reasserts control, identity was irrelevant. There were no problems. No worries. No concerns or plights. There was only existence, pure and unburdened. In that moment, a person could simply be. 

That’s usually when reality rends that illusion of peace to ribbons. 

Fudge! 

I shot upright. A quick burst of mana from Perseverance banished the lingering wisps of exhaustion from my mind. After months of routine, it was an almost reflexive action. It was dark outside, and I couldn’t be sure if it was early or late. I felt the familiar give of my thin mattress. I was in bed.

I spotted Tulos slumped against the wall. He must have dozed off while watching over me. I heard him breathing. Soft, relaxed breaths. Tulos was not a snorer, and the rumblings of size were absent from his resting form. 

Between Marco and now this, the poor guy probably barely gets a chance to rest. 

I considered waking him up to ask about Fudge, who was notably not in the room, but decided against it. Instead, I urged my now-recovered mana into Taming [Fudge]. A dull ache made itself known, a familiar pain behind my eye as I pushed mana to the task. My mana had recovered, but whatever I did with Fudge had tapped me out.

I’m going to have to take it easy for a few days… Like a muscle, mana pathways and reserves could be strained and pushed beyond their limits, but only to a point. Injury was a real possibility, and from what I had been told it is an experience best avoided. 

I knew all of that academically, but I still pushed myself for the sake of Fudge. In the moment, thought wasn’t a factor; it wasn’t a choice in which  I weighed cost-benefit. My dog was hurting so I did what I had to do. 

I mentally probed at the Tamer Bond. There was a different feel to it that I hadn’t had the time to fully appreciate while managing Fudge’s Advancement. Before, it felt like a tether, or a tunnel. The connection was there, but there was a metaphysical distance involved, a pathway to travel with thought and mana.

Now, it was more like a doorway, a simple passage to another room in the greater whole. A single step, a flip of a switch, and we would be connected. Like most doorways, it housed a door, of sorts. By leaving it slightly ajar, I intuited through the Skill that Fudge and I would maintain a gentle, passive awareness of each other. It would be much like the ambient feelings we used to subconsciously send each other through the old Tamer Bond, just… better. There wasn’t really a better way to describe it. Fudge had Advanced, the Taming Sill had Advanced and been ‘fundamentally altered;’ the qualitative improvement was immediately apparent. 

It finally gave me some context - a point of comparison - for the benefits of a specialized Skill. Having both Taming [Dog] and Recovery at the same Tier had touched upon the discrepancy; working with Fudge had always felt easier and less mana intensive than practicing with Recovery, but using that as a measuring stick felt like comparing apples and oranges.       

New insights into Skills were always welcome. Even as I processed my observations, there was one thing keeping me from indulging in them.

Fudge’s ‘door’ was closed.  

He was still there - the door would not exist without him, after all - but it was still concerning. I had no way to check up on Fudge through the Bond. For whatever reason, we’d been temporarily cut off.

Could I force the door open? I was tempted to, but after the admittedly risky actions that led to circumstances surrounding Fudge’s Advancement, I let caution win out. First, I needed to find Fudge. Everything else could come after. 

My legs swung off the bed and I felt the cool wood of the floor on the soles of my feet. Soft moonlight filtering in from the window gave me just enough visibility to navigate comfortably. My eyes were able to adapt quickly, one of the many benefits that accompanied my Advancement and a trend that would apparently continue as I rose through the ranks. 

I’d left a sweat stain on my bed that soaked through the off-white linens, but thoughts of laundry were not my priority. Moving silently was neither a skill nor Skill - with a capital ‘S’ - that I possessed. With great care, I endeavored to step softly without looking comical. 

I’d read books on the subject, and the consensus seemed to be that most people didn’t actually understand how to move silently. 

So best to just do my best and not overstay my welcome. The longer I was in that room, the more likely it would be that Tulos would wake up. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he did, I’d just feel bad. 

Fortunately, the post-baby-care exhaustion was in my favor. Tulos remained deep in his slumber.

I stalked through the house as I looked for Fudge. There was no sign of him. The faint scent of baby vomit lingered in the air; there must’ve been an earlier incident. The only place I hadn’t looked was my parent’s room. That’s where Marco was, though.
Waking him would be bad, but Tina is in there too. It’s amazing she hasn’t heard me already…  

Even so, I had to check. 

Gingerly, I pushed the door open and winced when the hinges whined ever so softly. The way the house was oriented, the main bedroom usually got more moonlight than mine did when the nights were flush with such. It made seeing Tina sitting in her nursing chair a simple matter.

Marco was bundled up in her arms. She wore a single, raised eyebrow as she watched the doorway. I saw her. She saw me. Embarrassment flooded my cheeks.

I went to say something but a wide-eyed glare shut me up.
Right. Marco. 

“So-rry.” I overtly mouthed the word, making sure to stay as quiet as possible. Tina smiled softly, but her stare remained locked on me. With the slightest nod of her head, she looked me up and down. She raised her eyebrow again. A question.

I nodded. I was fine.

Tina released a slow, controlled exhale. Relief.

I shrugged my shoulders and mimed petting a dog.  
Where is Fudge?   

Tina frowned. Hesitation, but it was quickly pushed aside. 

“Kenn-el.” She mouthed the word back at me. It looked like she wanted to say more, but circumstances dictated otherwise. I nodded my understanding and oh-so-carefully closed the door behind me as I left.

“Love you, mom,” I mouthed on my way out. Tina said it back.  

I slipped out of the house, kept vigilant for large spiders as I made my way through the garden, and took off as a jog. The night air was crisp as I drew it into my lungs. In my haste, I’d not bothered to put on shoes. The damp cold of the earth beneath my feet and feeling of grass betwixt my toes made every footfall notable. 

With a quick pulse of Perseverance, I easily vaulted over the low stone wall that bordered the kennel. Already, I heard some of the dogs stirring in response to my presence. There was a big wooden shelter, closer to a shed than a doghouse, that Tina used to isolate a dog from the others when necessary. Vigil was resting in front of it and had already raised his head to look in my direction.    

Don’t worry buddy, I’m coming. I sent the thought towards the Tamer Bond, but it was barred from crossing over. Even so, I wanted to think that somehow Fudge would still know that I had his back. I quickly crossed the distance, but something stopped me in my tracks.

Vigil growled at me.

It was a low, warning rumble enough to stop me dead. He’d never done that before. It took me a moment to gather my wits to respond.
“Vigil, what’s the matter, boy?” Even as the question left my mouth I felt goofy for the effort.
Under normal circumstances I usually find the ‘Lassie’ routine charming. I don’t have time for it right now.

Vigil didn’t respond, because of course he didn’t.
“Vigil, stand aside, I am going to see Fudge.” I took another step forward and the massive, steel-furred dog growled again. I flared Perseverance and Taming both, urging them to impress my will into words that Vigil might understand. “Vigil. DOWN.” 

My prepubescent voice cracked slightly as I raised my voice, but I didn’t stand down. I may not have been Vigil’s Tamer, but I was one in my own right. More than that, I was the son of his Tamer, and she had directed me here.
“I am going to see Fudge.” 

In hindsight, squaring off against a dog that could quite comfortably - and quite literally - bite my head off was probably not a wise life decision. I played the odds, but even so, the potential for disaster didn’t quite hit me until the words were already out of my mouth. My mouth went dry, but I did not back down. I couldn’t. I drew deep from Perseverance and managed to avoid a nervous gulp, even as it exacerbated the mana-pains.

Vigil just stared. The metallic glint to his eyes was noticeable in the moonlight. It felt like he was staring through me, weighing me. With slow, deliberate movements Vigil raised to his feet, demonstrating that he still towered over me. I remembered Tina’s advice. My commands needed to be final.
“Vigil. DOWN.” I pointed to one side and straightened my back.

Silence. I heard the sounds of other dogs moving behind me, perhaps gathering to see what the commotion was. I paid them no mind. I only had eyes for Vigil. After a tense few moments, he huffed. With two lumbering steps he moved out of the way and sat back down with a grumble. 

Oh thank fuck.

“Good boy.” I moved into the shed and finally laid eyes on Fudge. 

“Fudge…”

I could see why he’d been moved to the shed. Perhaps appropriately, he was shedding. All of his dark, charcoal fur lay discarded around him, though a few tufts still clung to his body. If not for the steady rise and fall of his bare chest, I would have feared the worst. There was no more whimpering. No whining. Just rest and… whatever was going on.

A dog without its fur was a most unusual sight - like the canine equivalent of a sphynx cat. I took a concerned step forward, not sure how - or if - I could help. I almost didn’t notice my wax tablet.

It was on the floor and inscribed with a message. When I held it out into the moonlight, and with a gentle stream of Perseverance mana directed at my eyes, I was able to make out the words through the strain. 

Will,

What is happening to Fudge is normal. When animals Advance for the first time they go through their most dramatic changes. Since Fudge started losing his fur, I will assume that you ended up taking a Durability-adjacent Skill, like we discussed. 

What happened to you is less normal, but I did not want to worry your father until you and I had a chance to talk. We WILL be talking about this. For now though, you may stay with Fudge. I know it is important for you that you do.

I went through the same thing. 

We will bring you food and water and even some blankets, if you want. Fudge will probably be asleep for a few days. You do whatever you need to in order to take care of him. Your father and I can handle Marco, but we appreciate all the help you’ve been able to give us. 

Love, 

Mom

I let out a massive sigh of relief and went to sit with my back against the wall. 

Fudge is going to be okay. At that moment, it was all that mattered.