“Most people do not chase Advancement. They discover their Core Skill, they Advance two, maybe three times and sometimes a fourth in their twilight years, then they die. Why? One of my favorite theories on the subject blames society and, to an extent, our humanity. Among other things, those of a higher Tier boast a comparatively long lifespan. For those with ties to family and community, the prospect of outliving one’s grandchildren can be a daunting one. It is as if, collectively, we have defaulted to a natural order, of sorts and it is those that find a reason to exist outside of it that are the outliers.”

~Unknown

Tina took the news about as well as she could have. One can mentally prepare themselves for awful eventualities, but that foreknowledge seldom does little to dull the emotions they inspire, a truth any who have watched a loved one wither from a beige chair parked by a hospital bed could attest to. A grim comparison, perhaps, but an appropriate one; Tina was to be separated from her child, and while one might argue that it was only a temporary arrangement, they could just as easily argue that the uncertainty of life promised no guarantees.

When pressed for clarity, Lionel provided it. We would be leaving the following morning. It was not the full day we had been hoping for, for which Tina was the most vocal in her dissatisfaction.

‘Surely you can give us-”

“I cannot. Do not ask again. Please.” There was no whimsy in Lionel’s retort, and I could tell he took no real joy in his part in proceedings, necessary though they were. It wasn’t long before he excused himself with promises to return after procuring traveling supplies from Elbura. I had wondered how we would manage the logistics of travel, but that was not for me to worry about, not that day, so I didn’t. Instead, I took Lionel’s gesture for what it was, an offer of privacy, of time to spend with my family before we parted ways.

It did not escape my notice that he’d also put a temporary plug in his conversation with Tulos. Curiosity demanded I press my father for more details, but with Lionel’s departure came the quiet settling of reality, heavy enough to momentarily smother any questions I might have had.

Tomorrow, I’ll be gone. It was a sobering thought.

That last day felt like it passed by in a blur. Maybe it did. Vigil stirred, eventually. We showered him with love and praise. Even Tulos gave him an awkward pat on the head, my father’s huge hands probably the only ones among us capable of properly tackling the task. The wound inflicted by Rosita’s needles had already been reduced to a small, red mark; it had not punctured deep enough to threaten any real bodily harm.

Bodily harm was never their purpose though. The memory of his tortured yelps, still painfully fresh, promised a long, unwelcome stay in the back of my psyche. I was just happy that he seemed okay, a fact Tina’s reassurances helped me to accept. Whatever Aylesbury did, it was working.

Tina periodically passed Marco off to Tulos so that she could pull me into the tightest of tight hugs, each one trying to outdo the hug that came before it. She would whisper how much she loved me and that everything would be okay, so close that I could feel the warmth of her voice just as easily as I heard it. After the second hug, I started whispering the same to her. She almost cried the first time I did. I could tell she wanted to, but no doubt some protective instinct demanded she try to shield me from worry or guilt.

Moments. Moments shared. Moments of thought and quiet contemplation. It is a rare thing to remember the entirety of a day, every passing thought or subtle motion. That day was no exception. It was all just moments, and I was determined to hold them close.

Tulos expressed regret that our lessons barely touched upon the fundamentals, an unexpected sentiment he refused to elaborate on. Instead, he made me promise that, when we reunited, I would show him what the Slayers taught me.

Tina took me to visit the kennels, where dozens of dogs eagerly greeted her as if earlier events were already lost to the annals of memory. I’d wondered why they hadn’t rushed to inject themselves in the conflict with Rosita, to which Tina explained their absence as a function of the training instilled into them; unless called upon or given the commands associated with their livestock protection role, they would remain in the kennel.

“So why not call them?” I asked while giving Vix a scratch behind the ears. Of all the dogs, she was the one who seemed the most reserved in her affections, opting to saunter towards us instead of galloping like the wall of fur that constituted the other kennel occupants. The tail she lost had started growing back over the years, but it was a slow process and even then it still lacked the fullness of the one she lost.

“It would not have helped,” Tina replied while running a brush through Vigil’s fur. “These dogs will give their life protecting a herd or family, but what then? If you can run, you run. If you can hide, you hide. If you can do neither, then their sacrifice would not amount to much, see? At best, they serve as a deterrent.” She sighed deeply. “They would not have deterred Rosita.”

“I see…” Vix sharply swished her tails, making me cognizant of the fact that I’d stopped giving her attention. Reserved though she may have been, when Vix decided she wanted affection, System forbid it be denied to her. Fudge was busying himself playing with some of the younger dogs so I was more than happy to oblige, and so the day continued.

I spent time with Marco during his waking moments, trying to decide if I would miss him or not. There was still little to distinguish him from any other baby, so I rationalized that there wouldn’t be much to miss. Instead, I would miss being there to watch my brother slowly become a person. I’d see him, sure, in the same way I’d seen the children of my friends a few times every year and comment how much they’d grown in the interim. What would I be to Marco? Could I really be his brother if I wasn’t there?

Will it be better that I am not around? An old concern, but one I finally had the ability to confront. Compared to me, Marco had the potential for a regular childhood. The less I was involved, the less chance I had of disrupting that, not only for his sake, but for my parents as well. I had an opportunity to start gradually distancing myself from them. I just wasn’t sure if I should.

You plan to leave them anyway, I told myself. It wasn’t as convincing an argument as I hoped it would be.

Lionel eventually returned, a large pack slung over each shoulder that would have been impossible for him to so casually manage without the inherent benefits of Advancement. There was a grace to his movements, as if he were guided by a song only he could hear. A subtle thing, but knowing what I knew about Lionel’s Build gave the quality deeper meaning in my speculations. I pulled up the System window summarizing my own Skills.

Perseverance Level 12/20

Taming [Fudge] Level 10/10

Recovery Level 9/10

Oh hey, Perseverance finally hit Level 12, I thought idly. Evidently the encounter with Rosita had been enough to push it over the edge. My progress with the Advanced Skill remained glacial when reliant upon the repetitive strain of routine. The proficiency points still trickled in, but I was nearing the limit of what I could accomplish on my own.

That, more than anything, helped me remain optimistic about the days and weeks to come. Tina and Tulos were well versed on The System, so far as I could tell, but the resources Lionel could give me access to would no doubt trump them. In loss, I would gain, and in doing so I would move one step closer to an answer.

I thought I knew what the question was. Some days I grew less certain, but that was no excuse to stop. I couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Since I was leaving Elbura I decided I also wanted to leave something positive behind me. Lionel continued to give us privacy, even after his return, instead opting to sit by himself and go over what appeared to be a stack of notes. I made no attempt at disguising my approach. Even without Fudge trotting alongside me I knew I had no way of escaping Lionel’s ear.

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“Bold of you to squander your time with me,” Lionel said when I was within earshot. He did not look up from the pages in his hand. “What can I do for you, Will?”

“I would like some paper.”

“To what end?”

“Dad is going to Advance, right?”

“Answering a question with a question, are we?”

“You mean just like you did?”

“Careful, now. It requires great restraint not to waste one’s time with wordplay, and I would rather spare myself the exertion.”

“So answer the question.”

At that, Lionel looked up and rolled his eyes at me.

“Very well, I shall acquiesce. The situation with your father is a delicate one. Just because he can Advance does not mean he should and no, I will not take up more time than necessary to explain the details. Now I will reiterate - to what end do you ask?”

“I have Recovery. I was going to write down how I thought about the Skill when I was given the option. That way dad might…” I trailed off.

“Ah. I see,” Lionel said with a quick nod. “You understand there are no guarantees with such things and, by all accounts, I am still not sure how you were able to qualify for the Skill in the first place.” He gave me an appraising look. “It could very well be you are a savant in that regard, and your notes will only confuse the issue.”

“I still want to try.” Images of Tulos, riddled with cuts, flashed through my mind.

“Very well.” Lionel pulled a pair of blank sheets from his pile and handed them to me. “Now go back to your family. We will have ample time to talk while traveling, so do not waste the time you have here.”

“You could join us,” I offered. “You do not get the chance to visit us much, and I know you and dad are friends so-”

“I appreciate your offer, Will, but no. Today is not a day for me to reminisce with a friend.” At that, he turned his attention back to whatever he was working on and I took the dismissal for what it was.

“Okay. Thanks again, uncle Lionel.” As I turned to head back towards the house I whistled for Fudge to follow. He’d busied himself snapping at his own tail while Lionel and I spoke, so it seemed prudent lest he get lost in the chase. Even without watching him, I recognized the excited blend of sensations making their way through the Tamer Bond.

Naturally, when I returned to my parents they were quick to notice my efforts, largely in part because I had to ask them to fetch me the ink and quill pen from their resting place.

“Please, dad. I want to do this for you,” I said when my request was met with hesitation. Tina was uncharacteristically quiet, instead deferring entirely to Tulos on the matter. She’d been occupied by subconscious tapping and knee bouncing all day, so it was difficult to rely on her usual tells to discern her thoughts on the matter.

Tulos seemed to half-start a dozen different replies; the quiet certainty I’d come to expect from him suddenly absent when faced with the topic of his Advancement.

“Okay.” It was not just permission to write down my insights, I knew - that alone wouldn’t have warranted such contemplation. From Tulos, that single word was a promise to try and make use of what I wrote, if he could. Perhaps it was the fact that it was a request from his son on our last day together, or maybe it was something else. I couldn’t tell, and I wasn’t tactless enough to ask.

There would be no erasing and no time for do-overs. I had to write and I had to write quickly. Much of the scientific vocabulary I knew lacked a translation into the local language, so far as I could tell, so I had to get creative. I needed to convey the broad strokes of cell theory in a way that could have come from the mind of a child. As I sat staring at the blank page, the rash nature of my goal finally cut through the blanket of sentimentality that had settled on me as the day progressed.

I might have bitten off more than I can chew.

In the end, I erred on the side of caution. I broke the body down into parts like arms and legs and explained that I imagined the body could be broken down into many, many, smaller parts and each part helped the body by working together. I spoke about feeling tired and how rest and food helped me get energy. I explained that if the body used energy to be awake and move then it also probably used energy to heal.

Reading it back to myself, it felt… insulting. Without mentioning the inner workings of cells and their role in the function of the human body the explanation felt too childish - the kind of thing any sensible adult could reasonably conclude on their own.

Then again, there were also large swaths of history in which germ theory as I know it wasn’t a thing, so what do I know?

I set down the quill with a sigh.

“Finished. I hope it helps.” It was hard to feel satisfied with a job done poorly. I comforted myself by saying it was better than nothing but even that felt like a stretch.

The afternoon turned to evening. We shared memories. We laughed. We made promises and gave reassurances. We all helped cook dinner and even when night was upon us a shared reluctance to turn in hung heavy in the atmosphere.

As Will, I was never one to crawl into my parent’s bed. It was my understanding that children did so when they felt scared or otherwise needed parental comfort. I instead prioritized giving Tina and Tulos their privacy, but in hindsight it was just another child rearing experience my adult mind denied them. I decided to make an exception, and when I asked if I could stay with them overnight I was met with emphatic approval from Tina and quiet acceptance from Tulos.

After the day I’d had, exhaustion lurked on the edge of perception, promising an easy slumber if I invited it in. I wondered if Tina and Tulos would sleep. Tina was hugging me and holding me close, and I somehow knew that letting go in the morning would be one of the hardest things she’d ever have to do. Tulos was on his back, hands beneath his head and staring at the ceiling. In the quiet of night, thoughts held back by the day would demand attention as they wormed their way into the forefront of the mind. I could only empathize with him.

It was why exhaustion’s offer was so tempting. I could banish it with Perseverance, but to do so would be to invite every doubt and regret I’d ever had. How would Bella be faring, alone in a strange new place? Would she sleep? I never was able to figure out how to transfer the benefits of Recovery to someone else. I’d failed Jusep, and while I knew I would return with the knowledge one day, it felt like I was abandoning a responsibility.

Mana stirred in my core and with a dangerous sounding creak the bed dipped under the sudden weight of Fudge who leapt onto the already too full bed.

SAFE.

The feeling came through with stubborn clarity as Fudge ignored the startled protests of Tulos and Tina. He curled up over the foot of the bed and stretched out his neck to rest his head on my leg.

SAFE.

The sentiment was clear to me. Everything would be okay. I let myself be absorbed in the feelings of love and affection coming from the Tamer Bond. Fudge would watch over me. Everything would be okay. I could rest. I did.

***

It was raining in the morning. I slept through the night. Fudge stirred when I did, having not left his post the entire night; I could only imagine that Tina and Tulos did not have the most comfortable of sleeps, if they even slept at all. A quick burst of mana banished any lingering tiredness from my mind.

The gentle pattering of raindrops against. The smell of damp soil. The rains promised rejuvenation and regrowth. They would wash away the remnants of the day before, and soon it would only be a distant memory.

Such was the way of rain, it washed away the old to welcome the new. It was a thief, a marauder and yet people often welcomed it - prayed for it, even. I used to love the rain. A part of me still did. There were some things that needed to be cleansed, and to walk through the rain was to feel connected to something… more, something ancient and ineffable.

Rain also made mud. My clothing and a collection of other trinkets were stowed in a pack, and it was not long before Lionel knocked on our door. No doubt he’d heard when we were ready. The shoes I wore were good shoes. Sturdy shoes. I felt them sink slightly into the mud but my feet remained dry.

In leaving Elbura, countless opportunities would present themselves to me. In loss, I would find something new. I would learn. I would grow. I would Advance. Lionel offered my parents what reassurances he could, though we all knew they would sound hollow. Tina and Tulos repeated the same farewells we’d shared a dozen times the day before, and that time when Tina hugged me Tulos knelt down into the muck to gather us both into his massive arms, squeezing tight enough that it bordered on uncomfortable. No one told him to stop.

Farewells are hard. That first turn, that first step, they weigh on a person. It is as if the connection between two people tries to pull them back together. I knew that turning back would be a mistake. It was hard not to. I kept my chin high and my face forward as my world for the last decade shrunk behind me. I was going to miss them. I knew that lingering on that thought would only cause me strife, so I endeavored to focus on the future.

The irony was not lost on me, so when the rain picked up I did not dignify it with an answer.

Fuck the rain.