“When a man Skilled with Sailing perfectly trims the sheets, at what point does his Skill transcend from reading the wind to calling it? Skills get strange when they Advance far enough; they carry more of their user’s touch. Discuss.”
~Unknown
My alone time with Marco was infrequent. I dared not disturb him after he’d been set down to nap, and seldom was I called upon to watch him otherwise. Tulos’ words swayed me, in the end. The System might give Marco something undesirable by my standards. My standards. It was an important distinction; declaring myself arbiter on the matter would have been arrogant at best.
Despite my decision, whenever I peered into Marco’s crib and watched his mushy, little baby face in peaceful slumber, I was met with doubt.
What if?
Such an insidious little question. Slithering. Squirming. It worms into you and whispers reassurances. This was not the ‘what if’ of opportunities lost to time - of hypotheticals and fantasy. No, this ‘what if’ was temptation, for all who heard it knew its allure could maybe, just maybe, be made manifest.
What if I discovered a way to influence a baby’s Core Skill? Easy enough to disregard the notion given the decision I’d made. I had no intention of exercising that influence, unlikely though it may be to even exist. It was a moot point.
What if I tried anyway, just to see if it was possible? Surely, it would be fine to simply know - on an academic level - if having the insights I did could change things. That didn’t mean I would leverage that knowledge, right?
What if?
What if?
What if?
I’d come to despise the question. I hated it, for it was a question that so regularly tormented me. Even so, I could not dismiss it, not really. For all I complained, I knew, deep down, that ‘what if’ already had a hold of me.
What if I can get back to my old life some day?
Being beholden to such a colossal ‘what if’ made it harder to ignore its less impressive spawn. Even the hypotheticals that challenged my desire paled before the hope I so desperately clung to.
Reluctantly, I drew on Perseverance to resist the temptation. The Skill reinforced what little self-control I’d been able to muster on my own, a reminder of my inadequacies. Mana cleared away my doubts, but the memory of them remained. Despite the progress I’d made and the accomplishments I’d earned, there was a lingering fragility to my unenhanced resolve. It was a difficult truth to swallow.
***
We were one night away from Marco’s System-day. Much to my exasperation, the event was not enough for my playdate with Bella to be canceled. I watched as Tulos and Figuello casually carried some crude, wooden obstacles onto the field near our house; both men were in possession of Strength [Body] and made the task look effortless. Seeing the configuration they were being set up in was enough to elicit a groan from me.
Bella was standing next to me and had been casually petting Fudge while we waited. Like always, it felt as if her opinion of me reset every time her company was thrust upon me. Frustrations were forgotten and she simply took joy in having someone her own age to spend time with; one of the perks of youth, I supposed. No doubt, she noticed the setup roughly the same time I did. I could feel the smug smirk as it crept onto her face.
Bella sensed my frustration, because of course she did, and pranced a pivot to stand in front of me.
“It is okay, Will, maybe today you will win one of the games.” The game in question was a combination between tag and an age-appropriate obstacle course. Bella’s confidence stemmed from the fact that, in this particular game, she was undefeated.
“You and I both know that is unlikely.” I did my best not to sound too bitter about it.
“Would you like some advice?” I realize feeling competitive when up against a child was unbecoming, but it was precisely because Bella was a child that her superiority in this area irked me so. I had Advanced, so even though Bella had about a year on me I was still more capable from a purely physical standpoint.
“No.” I was faster than Bella, but not to the point where I could overwhelm her advantage. “Not unless you want to help me get better at lying to you.” Bella’s Core Skill was Observation [Social, Truth] and it made her frustratingly good at reading people. In a game of feints and misdirection it gave her the edge; I was outclassed.
“That will be tricky.” Bella poked her tongue out before pausing and looking over her shoulder. “Papa said not to tell anyone this, but I think it will be okay if I tell you.” She leaned forward and cupped her hands around her mouth before continuing in a whisper. “My System said I am ready to Advance, so soon Papa and Mama are going to help me do it.”
“...” I was speechless. I knew, academically, that Bella’s Skill would have given her ample opportunity to gather proficiency points. It still stung to learn that, despite my advantages, the lead I'd gained over a local barely amounted to a few years.
Well, fuck…
“You seem upset. I thought you would be happy for me?” Bella pouted when she saw my reaction.
“It is going to be a lot harder to beat you now.” It wasn’t a lie, and given the news of Bella’s pending Advancement, I began to worry even that technicality might not be enough.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Bella squinted and stepped in close.
“That… Well. Okay. That makes sense. If you want, I can go easy on you.” By the end of her sentence, Bella had returned to her usual, chipper cadence.
“I-”
“Kids!” Tulos called out to us. With an excited giggle, Bella turned and scurried towards the equipment, the severity of our conversation lost to a child’s excitement.
Saved by the bell.
***
I once knew a guy who worked at a fast food sandwich joint. There was a distinct smell to the place. The bread. The ingredients. You could walk in there blindfolded and immediately know where you were. Apparently, after a couple of years working there, the smell just vanishes for a person. It is still physically there, obviously, but the brain just decides to ignore it.
Psychologically speaking, a person’s capacity to adapt to situations is a marvel. Even though Taming [Fudge] had inflicted an ever-present awareness of all things Fudge on me since its Advancement, I found myself steadily growing used to the sensation now that it had been a couple of months.
Unlike my friend who worked at the sandwich shop, I was still cognizant of the sensation. Without Perseverance, the static of it all would have left me regularly unable to engage in coherent conversation. It wasn’t perfect - I was still not operating at full capacity - but it was something. Working towards a more permanent solution remained high on my list of priorities, but in the interim, I’d noticed a distinct uptick in my progress of Perseverance so I was content to take the good with the bad.
I carried that attitude with me into Marco’s System Day. Celebrating his pending induction into the System was exciting as it was anxiety-inducing. As our little family put on big smiles for the baby who would not even remember them, I was reminded that the occasion was less for Marco and more for everyone else; if we all told each other that everything was fine, then maybe we’d start to believe it.
Just one big performance. I could still sense a tension between my parents, but no one acknowledged it.
Marco’s eyes went wide when he was given a vegetable puree, and I remembered my own excitement at having my diet expand beyond-
Yeah, let’s not delve into memories best left buried. Dark times. Marco babbled, giggled and spilled most of the green mush down the front of his torso but he seemed to enjoy it all the same.
Eventually, Tulos laid out the carved, wooden tokens, much like he had on my System Day. It took a while for Marco to choose one. He largely seemed content to do his own thing.
“How long do we wait?” I eventually asked.
“As long as we need to.” It was Tulos who answered.
“That-”
Before I could finish, Marco finally crumpled forward and slapped his hands down with a giggle. In doing so, he touched two of the tokens at once. One of the tokens bore the image of a musical instrument and chisel, a representation of artistic endeavors. The other was the same one I chose, adorned with weaponry. Internally, I winced and looked at a deflated Tulos through the corner of my eye.
That’s a rough one.
“What does it mean if he picks two?” I tried to distract Tulos from the coincidence of it all.
“That is largely up to interpretation,” Tina answered as she scooped Marco back up into her arms. The little guy took the opportunity to let loose a squeaky yawn. “In any case, I think this young man is ready for a rest, no?” She stood and started making her way over to the bedroom.
“I can watch over him while he naps,” I volunteered. Marco had been born in the evening, not overnight like I was. His Skill would be decided sooner rather than later. I knew it wouldn’t likely amount to anything, but I wanted to be nearby when it happened anyway. “You two can go for a walk or something; get out of the house and spend some time together.”
Tina hesitated.
“Will, I am not sure if-”
“Pleeeaaassseeeeeeee.” I wasn’t proud of it, but Tina tended to cave if I got childish - especially for little things. Naturally, I tried to limit how often I took advantage of that power.
Her expression softened.
“Thank you, my Will, that sounds lovely.” She looked towards Tulos who just nodded but didn’t object to the situation.
Objectively, I knew simply babysitting for a little while wouldn’t magically fix things for my parents, but it was better than nothing. Probably. I hoped.
So long as whatever is going on between them doesn’t fester, I’ll be content.
“Vigil, you stay with Fudge and I, too,” I said to the curled up metallic dog. Vigil raised his head and looked at me briefly before turning to stare at Tina. She held his gaze for a long moment before he simply settled back down.
“Looks like he is going to stay,” Tina chirped. “Come on, love.”
Tina transferred Marco to his crib before heading out with Tulos. I let several minutes pass. Fudge had planted himself in the doorway, making his body go flat as he watched me. I could hear his tail gently wagging.
Happy.
The impression brought a smile to my face.
“Me too, buddy. Me too.”
I looked over my shoulder and strained my ears. There was no sign that anyone else was around.
Last chance… If I was going to try and weigh in on Marco’s Core Skill selection, it was now or never. My hands grabbed the lip on his crib and squeezed. I watched as my knuckles went white.
Almost instinctively, I reached for Perseverance.
No. One word. A command of the self. I stopped, not letting the mana leave my core. I’d gotten so far, but if I only ever relied on my Skills I knew I’d never have any confidence in myself beyond them.
The temptation to utter a few words - to merely test the possibility - gnawed at me. It would be so easy to abandon my conviction.
That’s why it’s so important that I don’t.
Reluctantly, I peeled myself away from the crib and sat on the chair in the corner of my parent’s room.
Soon, Marco’s Core Skill will be selected.
Tomorrow we will go visit Hwan to learn what it is.
And that is okay.
Soon, Marco’s Core Skill will be selected.
Tomorrow we will go visit Hwan to learn what it is.
And that is okay.
I repeated the words to myself as the minutes continued to stretch, hoping that it would be enough.