“It should come as no surprise that humanity began to push against the bounds of the System. Mana was power, and there were those who were not satisfied with our limitations. Perhaps we should have seen the possibilities sooner. Two people with the same Skill often differ in how they develop it; the flexibility was always there.

Our ancestors drew inspiration from the elements, bending them to their will through song and script and sculpted spell. Yet, there are those who claim these magics were always within the bounds of the System. I know many of you here are Skilled in Spellsong, so perhaps you are inclined to agree with them.”

~Unknown

Not wanting to delay, I decided to start from the beginning. I opened my mouth to speak, but - perhaps ironically - had to pause. There was one detail about my Advancement I needed clarified before I could continue.

“Mum?” I asked sweetly. “Did you know Advancement was going to hurt that much?” With everything else that happened, I’d almost forgotten the painful gap in my preparations. Tina’s face paled at the question that was equal parts accusation. She looked to Tulos for support but found him suddenly fascinated with a section of wall. She squinted at his feigned ignorance, it was a look that promised future retribution.

Forced to face my patient waiting, her momentary irritation was quickly replaced by guilt. It settled over her features like a heavy blanket.

“I did, and I am sorry…” She watched me intently, searching for blossoming hatred. I just tilted my head to the side.

An impulsive part of me, the cynical part dripping acid, condemned my lack of reaction. Why was I not furious? Should I not be reeling from the betrayal of it all? Except, that part of me was easy to ignore. It was impossible to imagine that Tina held any malice towards me, not after everything that happened. Instead, I was just curious.

“Can you tell me why?” Before she could answer, Vigil disentangled himself and stepped off the bed. It was a process his size made impossible to do delicately. When he lumbered out the room he paused to stretch and grumble before sauntering away. I smiled, Vigil’s antics always-

Is… is he buttering me up so I go easy on Tina? I tried to dismiss the stray thought as nonsense, but couldn’t quite shake it. Vigil was always more cunning than he let on. Ultimately, I decided I didn’t care. I was just happy he seemed to have made a quick recovery. I turned my attention back to Tina, which she took as a signal to continue.

“Not all families prepare their children for their first Advancement the same way,” Tina said bashfully, looking like she was trying to shrink into herself. “Some families tell their children everything. Some - like mine - do not.”

It took me a few stunned moments to connect the dots. Tina’s embarrassment, Tulos’ behavior, the difference in their family backgrounds; it was all connected. When it finally clicked, I had to restrain my laughter.

“Are you… saying… you thought… your way was the… only way?” I was only partially successful; half-giggles escaped between every other word. Tina’s discomfort at the situation evaporated under a flash of frustration, leaving her awkwardly trapped between wanting to comfort and wanting to scold me.

“I fail to see how this is funny,” Tina complained with an exaggerated pout, but I could see the rebellious corner of her lip start twitching upwards. It didn’t last, and she bowed her head to appear suitably chastised. “Does this mean you forgive me?” That murmur exposed a vulnerability I’d mistakenly overlooked. It was sometimes easy to forget that, even though Tina was a certified badass, she was also a young mother who carried all the insecurities that title bestowed.

“It does,” I reassured her with a smile. “I would also appreciate it if you or dad could tell me why I am so full of energy. Should I be worried I might burst like an overripe lemon?” They didn’t call them lemons, but the four-pronged prickly fruits were sour and citrusy so it was a close enough translation. Tulos had once told me that if they got too ripe they would explode and shoot their spines with enough force to injure someone. I could never figure out if he was messing with me or not.

Tina wore her relief plainly.

“I think you take after your father,” she uttered. “He is also much too good to me.” I saw a faint blush inch up Tulos’ neck but wisely didn’t comment on it. “You have Advanced, my Will. Your mana channels have been carved, so all the energy from your Core is more easily circulating through your body.”

I had to quickly clarify that the unfamiliar word meant mana. Tina made it clear that the sensation would fade as my body adjusted, but until then I was to remain well rested and in bed. Her tone brokered zero argument.

A dozen follow-up questions came to mind. Unfortunately, being restricted to bedrest put a damper on my enthusiasm to ask them. I wanted to verify my new capabilities, not exacerbate my impending day, or days, of agonizing anticipation.

Come on, Perseverance, we got this. We’ll have the marshmallow later. Referencing an old psychological experiment involving sweets only served to make me remember junk food. So much for not agonizing myself, I thought grimly.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Before I could dwell too long on marshmallows or my growing tendency to personify Skills, I sunk into the recount of my Advancement. The memory of the pain was still fresh, but I downplayed it for Tina’s sake. My audience was attentive and eventually included Vigil who lazily planted himself in the doorway after returning from whatever business he had to attend to.

“You have a tree? That’s so… normal.” Tina made the off-handed comment after I explained that Perseverance started as a seed. She sounded surprised. “Not that it is a bad thing!” Placating palms supported the clarification. My pause asked the silent question, so Tina elaborated. “Not everyone has a tree, but it is the most common representation.”

“So… what do you two have?” I asked and took another sip of water.

“Tree,” they said in unison like it was no big deal. It probably wasn’t.

Yeah, I don’t know why I was expecting anything different…

Tina cheered when I confirmed I’d taken Taming [Dog] as one of my Advancement Skills. Tulos just smiled knowingly, not at all surprised by the revelation. She almost fled the room to start work on what sounded like some sort of lesson plan. Her excitement was contagious until Tulos gently reminded her I was on bedrest for at least another day. My second new Skill received a different - though arguably equally enthusiastic - reception.

“You were eligible for Recovery?!” Tina’s voice cracked. She sprung off my bed and began pacing around the cramped room. Her long fingernails tapped an anxious tempo on the fabric of her dress. “What… How… Love?” She looked to Tulos for an explanation but he was just staring at me with a dumbfounded look on his face. “Love?!”

Tulos blinked rapidly as if coming out of a stupor. “I… I do not know.”

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, suddenly flooded with worry that I’d somehow forged a fuck up of monumental proportions. Vigil, bless him, continued snoozing in the doorway like a zen anchor.

“No, you did nothing wrong. It is just that…” Tina trailed off.

“Most young adults- no, most adults are not eligible for Recovery.” It was Tulos who explained the gravity of my misstep. He looked at me for a long second as if contemplating how to continue. “Normally it is people with dangerous jobs who eventually unlock the Skill, after they...” he furrowed his brow in thought. “After they get hurt a lot?”

I felt a pit form in my stomach. That wasn’t Tulos’ word-choice-uncertainty; I was intimately familiar with that tone of voice.

Tulos doesn’t know how people normally unlock the Skill, I concluded. I couldn’t exactly explain how I got the Skill, not without exposing my origins. That wasn’t an option. It would be foolish, cruel, and a whole host of other detrimental adjectives.

There was no clever way to talk my way out of the situation, and I was stuck with the Skill regardless. That only left one option, one that would leverage my age to its utmost.

“... I do not know.” My biological age, that is. I shrugged and pursed my lips in the universal signal for ‘clueless’. They hadn’t even asked me a direct question, but I felt going on the offensive was the right move.

“... What?” It was Tina who asked. She’d paused mid-step to study me, stunned out of her panicked pacing by my apparent ignorance.

“I do not know.” I smiled innocently. “I saw it was an option, so I picked it.” I finished the last of my drink in an effort to appear unbothered by their scrutiny, as if content that my ‘confession’ had settled the matter.

“He is going to-”

“I know,” Tulos interrupted Tina, still staring at me strangely.

“It is is going to make it harder to-”

“I know.”

I could read between the half-finished lines of their brief exchange. Evidently, Recovery was another type of attention-getter that could make my life difficult. Still, it was hard not to feel vindicated that my instincts about the Skill were solid. Recovery was awesome, I was awesome, and I’d deal with any bridges or their trollish tenants when I had to cross them. While my parents engaged in a hushed whisper-fest they clearly didn’t want me to be privy to, I took the opportunity to call up my new Skills.

Recovery Level 1/10

Current proficiency points: 12/100

Taming [Dog] Level 1/10

Current proficiency points: 0/100

Seeing that my time spent unconscious had already netted me some proficiency points in Recovery was interesting. Was it the same for everyone, or did my conscious - if rudimentary - understanding of the body’s subconscious processes give me an edge?

Either way, I’ll find out eventu-

Vigil let out a low bark, snapping everyone out of their discussions and daydreams. When we turned to check on him, he seemed unbothered. Tina tilted her head and flared her nostrils.

“Oh. We have guests,” she announced. I always thought she was somehow getting signals from Vigil or the other dogs when she did stuff like that. After seeing her help Vigil fight the fueha, I began to suspect it was something more.

I was left alone while my parents gave the house a quick tidy, compelled by hospitality. Three solid knocks to our front door signaled the arrival of our guests, and when polite greetings were exchanged I didn’t have time to be surprised by their identity. The rapid patter of familiar footsteps beelining for the bedroom demanded all my attention.