“Until further notice, any questions submitted to my office in writing are to be no longer than half a page. Let it be known that I am both annoyed and impressed that I have had to institute this rule.”

~Unknown

Curling wood scraps gathered at Tulos’ feet as he carefully carved into the split log laid upon his work bench. As the man was prone to do, he did so with an axe; it was one of his smaller hatchets as opposed to the monstrosity used for felling trees, but still. I once remarked that using a variety of tools would have made Tulos’ job easier - why not simply use a saw instead of functionally whittling large pieces of wood into the shape? Tulos’ Skills helped bridge the gap, of course, but I was convinced they weren’t enough for him to overcome it - not at his level.

It was that dissonance which prompted me to question the man, to gauge if there were insights or secrets to System Advancement hidden within his actions. His reply?

“I just prefer the axe.” Honestly, it was tough to argue with. Tulos had issues with his Skilled weapon of choice not because he hated wielding it, but because he hated wielding it to inflict violence. When he worked in his woodshed, he often looked tranquil, even as he furrowed his brow in concentration.

It was the same that day as I watched him work, his face somehow existing in emotional juxtaposition with itself. Occasionally, he’d stop and eyeball his efforts before starting up again. The more he worked, the more the chunk of log began to resemble a table leg. That was good, we needed a new table - seeing as how Tulos accidentally shattered our old one. I let my mind drift back to earlier that day.

***

Amy was out of line. It would be hard to argue otherwise. I genuinely heard Tina grinding her teeth after she rushed me away from Jusep’s house, the noise a constant companion on our journey home. I say ‘our’ journey, but Tina insisted on carrying me, even when I told her I was fine to walk myself; I wasn’t really, but it’s what I told her. She regularly whispered apologies to me, no matter how much I insisted they weren’t necessary. Underneath it all, the rage she felt was almost tangible.

I didn’t blame her. How could I? Why would I? I understood that Amy’s circumstances were enough to leave her unsettled and, evidently, a little unhinged, but that was not an excuse. A different day, a different child, she could have seriously injured someone. I mean, fuck, what if little Bella had decided to go visit her friend and had the ‘audacity’ to-

Calm down, Will, I told myself. The throbbing in my lower back served as a reminder of the fact that I was hurt, even if I wasn’t debilitated. To distract myself, I tried to make the most of the situation and urged Recovery into action as I began channeling a thin stream of mana into the Skill. The pain made it difficult, so I changed tactics. Perseverance lit up in my mind’s eye, and the Advancement bonuses I’d chosen came into effect.

Adrenaline still floods my body. I want to focus on learning how to better use Recovery to treat my injuries. I want to focus on that task and ignore the pain and unsettling emotions flooding my body. I repeated the words like a mantra as the Skill went to work. Recently, I had endeavored to minimize how much I subconsciously used the Skill to dull my emotions in day-to-day life, but it was still a function of Perseverance that had its uses.

Everything fell to the wayside of my consciousness. I was still aware of my life beyond my current goal, but my mana wrangled every issue, doubt, pain and discomfort into neatly organized mental boxes. Recovery began to do its work, spurred on by my new found focus. I noted that the drain I felt from Perseverance was minimal; not negligible, but I suspected that without the pain of an injury trying to shatter my zen, it would be.

Blunt force trauma. It was a phrase I’d remembered that I knew was a fancy way of saying ‘bludgeoning damage’. Bruises were a sign of internal bleeding and… I couldn’t remember. I knew my body could, though. It might have been less efficient than specifically guiding the Skill to fix an issue, but it would have to do. I felt mana gather at the site of my injury. There was a warmth to it - there was a texture, too, something just beyond my perception without a Skill to help me sense it.

It might be good to specialize in subconscious recovery, I thought as I tried to feel exactly what my mana was doing. In a high-stakes situation, not having to actively focus on my body, mind, or whatever as it repaired itself would probably be valuable, even if it wasn’t the best way to leverage the Skill to the fullest at its current level. Not that I know enough about anatomy to consciously make the choice right now either way.

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I sent my will, my focused intent, at the warm sensation, letting it guide the Skill. My body was to heal the injury how it normally would, only faster. If it needed energy, it could use the mana or-

Could I get it to pull from my biological energy stores as well? It was a fun idea, but probably a dangerous one. I wasn’t sure at what percentage of body fat I would make the abrupt transition from living to deceased and had no desire to find out through unplanned experimentation.

I was mutely aware of the rocking of my body and the sound of Tina’s footfalls as I felt the Skill do its work - and it was working. The mana I supplied the Skill was being steadily drained as my body attempted to translate the mystical energy into something it could use. At no point did my awareness of the pain I felt dissipate; it was only Perseverance that kept it at bay. I got a sense that I could send even more mana to Recovery to increase its potency, that the Skill could put all of the magic I could muster to good use.

I didn’t. There was no guarantee it’d be enough to heal my injury and would likely leave me unconscious for my troubles. If that happened, I doubted Tina would handle the situation well, so I restrained myself. Instead, I kept trying to gain insights from ‘observing’ the process.

Still just kinda feels warm… maybe a little itchy? Kind of? Being cognizant of my body’s inner workings on any type of conscious level was beyond my current capabilities. The fact that I got even the vague-as-fuck impression I did was promising, though. I wondered if, perhaps, it was something I would grow more proficient with as I continued to Advance.

Eventually, I felt Tina’s pace slow and heard a muffled voice at the edge of my consciousness. I’d spent a lot of mana, so the timing worked out well. Like relaxing a mental muscle, I let my two Skills taper off. For Perseverance, I’d learned it made the transition between ‘states of thought’ less jarring, like the difference between easing into a pool of icy water or cannonballing in from the neighbor’s roof.

I was aware of Tina stepping into the house and moving through to the main room. Tulos was there, he welcomed us back, I think. I didn’t quite catch the words yet. Pain and a smoothie of complicated emotions were making it hard to focus for a handful of seconds as I gradually reintroduced them to my system.

When I finally eased myself back to full awareness, I caught the back end of something Tina was saying.

“... and she hurled Will into the doorframe.” Her tone was ice.

“She what?!” Tulos had been sitting at the table and slammed his hands into the table as he surged to his feet. I had never heard him shout like that before - even he looked surprised. Though, that might have also been because when a Skilled man Tulos’ size slams full force into a table it is prone to snap and warp like a thin wafer.

***

That’s what brought us to me watching Tulos carefully whittle a new table. After he broke the old one, he went immediately quiet and calmly walked out to the shed to get to work like it was a foregone conclusion. The table he was currently whittling was his fourth attempt; he broke the first three by being too rough with his tools.

Tina, similarly, went to the kennel to cool off after I told her to drop me near Tulos so that he could keep an eye on me.

Or rather, so I could keep an eye on him. Fudge curled up protectively beside me when she did so. I could sense that a difficult conversation was brewing. Tina and Tulos needed to decide how to officially respond to Amy’s actions.

I got a hunch they wanted to bring down a reckoning. As for me… I was torn, and I knew my opinion probably had the potential to sway them.

It wasn’t some misguided ‘forgive and forget’ tripe that gave me pause, either. Amy was wrong for what she did as far as I was concerned. Full stop, end of story. My hesitation was not for her benefit, even though I still sympathized with her on some level. My concern was Jusep.

If Amy got punished or arrested or whatever happened in small towns like this one, then Jusep would be stuck with Costa - another grade-a grundle tuft of a person - as their sole parent. I just wasn’t sure if going after Amy would be what was best for the kid…

“Ethical dilemmas suck, Fudge,” I whispered to the affectionate dog who responded by nuzzling deeper into my lap. All I needed was a tram line and I’d be in business.

I needed to contact Lionel about my idea; I was holding onto some hope that I might be able to help Jusep. If making peace with Amy through Hwan could get me an opportunity to put that idea into practice…

Then it’d be worth it. The course of action that I believed would best position me to help out a kid had to be the right one, right? Maybe? I sighed. I was probably going to mull it over some more for the sake of being thorough, I knew, but I felt a calm settle over me. I’d made up my mind.