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JULES
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A white flash darted by on the ravine's edge, just where Jules had pointed. Cyrus laughed, though Liam didn't look so amused. Was that the same animal from earlier?
“Jules, the closest Shrine is Siren’s Cove,” Cyrus said. “There’re no Wargs here. Just admit you were scared. No shame in an Unranked fearing 2nd Ranks.”
Jules looked at his father for support. Liam furrowed his brow and turned his attention to the ravine. “Gather your game,” Liam said. “We’ll harvest at home this time.”
Both boys groaned. Not again. Jules and Cyrus griped and moaned to loot the corpses here, but to no avail. Jules was exhausted from an hours-long adrenaline high; he didn’t want to deal with the burden of that wolf’s carcass—the biggest wolf, I might add—all the way home.
“Consider it punishment for both missing your marks earlier,” Liam said. “I swear…just skip to Plan B next time.” His discipline met more complaints. “Listen, the sooner we get home, the sooner I sign your applications.”
A little motivation went a long way, and they were packed in minutes. Liam handed Jules a vial of healing medicine for his face. The quicker a wound heals, the less it scars—Jules was brutally aware of this fact, and he and Liam always had medicine on hand, lest someone see something they shouldn’t.
Cyrus, on the other hand, was always slow to heal and welcomed scars. Important lessons, he called them.
The vial of medicine was low as always, and Jules just sprinkled a few drops on his cheek, which started to steam as it healed the gashes. Then, he pretended to drink a reasonable amount in front of Cyrus—who he felt staring at him—but didn’t actually take a drop. He lowered the vial and noticed the wolf’s claws had torn and frayed the top of his hunting jerkin. He couldn’t explain why that put him on edge. He hated wearing it and only wore it when hunting with Cyrus, but never when hunting alone or just with his father. The weight slowed him down too much.
“Let’s go,” Liam said. Jules glanced at the ravine again. The sun dawned at the top of its trees.
> [The Haunting of Coralhaven — Quest Objective ADDED: Investigate the Warg.]
Jules turned around and started the long trip home. They curved through the woods and hillside, down into the outskirts of Coralhaven, where colorful sea shanties and charming huts were more spaced out than in town, but still in sight of each other.
They hiked to an isolated shoreline, where the city of Aquilantis sparkled and glimmered in the morning light; far off to the east, the sun crested over its towering spires. Jules loved having a beach as a backyard—Though maybe it's my front yard—and loved watching the distant city’s shifting bridges every night and day. He even loved Coralhaven, a simple town though it was. But as long as Jules could remember, Aquilantis always drew him in.
He desperately wanted to visit it, or to live in it, but his mother had always refused his requests, and eventually pleas, to visit. Ah, speak of the devil.
Evelyn bent down and tended to her exquisite garden. Flowers of every color, vines, bushes, and trees of many varieties, and carefully bred Alchemy ingredients brimmed out from her nursery of plants. The garden always expanded outward, as if it found its purpose in manifest destiny. Evelyn glanced at them, stood up, and brushed the dirt off her skirt. Like every other day Jules could recall, she wore all-black clothing. Jules shifted his attention from the source of eternal darkness to the beautiful sunrise. Perpetual mourning.
A hot breakfast waited for them. So did school, which is why Liam had allowed them only three days of hunting. When the Hunting Party arrived, they were each greeted with a cold glare, though Jules noticed Evelyn's face soften when she looked at Cyrus.
“You were supposed to find the den,” she said to Liam.
“Aye, and that we did.” Liam plopped his wolf onto the ground between them. Trying to hide his labored breathing, I see.
“That you did, and more.” She crossed her arms. Jules and Cy exchanged nervous glances. Tick. Tock.
“I thought they were ready, and—you won’t believe this, Evelyn—but I was right.” He hugged his wife and kissed her on the cheek, which finally put her at ease.
“So it seems.” She didn’t return the hug or kiss. Instead, she sighed and looked at the sunrise. “Breakfast is getting cold. I expected you back an hour ago.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Tideshaper.” Cyrus rushed toward the door, toward breakfast. Jules knew his best friend wasn’t sucking up to her. Orphanage only serves porridge and dog food.
“Yeah, thanks, Mom. By the way, I have your medicine,” Jules said. Evelyn spun around and stormed inside. She even brushed against Cyrus' shoulders in her haste. Jules dumped his wolf next to Liam’s. “Well, Cy, you taking that inside?” Cy laughed and dropped his wolf, too, and the trio followed Evelyn inside to eat.
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They shoveled heaping loads into their mouths and cleared their plates in minutes flat. Jules offered the vial of medicine again. “Evelyn,” Jules said. “Here you go.” She snatched it from him this time and didn’t dare look at the gashes on his face.
The Gamesmen-in-making ran off into the ocean to clean their bodies for the first time in days. Then they returned to their wolves and Liam’s lessons. “Jules,” Liam said, “you were crazy to get that close. If you learned to keep your prey at a distance and dispose of them safely, you wouldn't have had to take that stupid little risk.”
Jules paused skinning his wolf’s hide. He understood the word close had a different context for himself than it did for Cyrus. As in close call, though not for my life. Not directly, at least. “Yeah, well,” Jules said. “Practice Skills, not Scripts, right?” Got him there.
“They’re the same thing,” Cyrus said. Everyone continued their field dressing in silence. “Still, that was quite the thrill.”
“Jules,” Evelyn said from her garden. She harvested her own prey, a bush of thick nightshade. “You shouldn’t act so brave in front of Cy. One day, it will get you killed.” It wasn’t the emphasis of the word Cy, but killed, that made Jules’ stomach lurch. Anger disguised as worry. “Anyways, Cy,” she continued, “please tell me how you killed your prey.”
Cyrus recapped the story. He played down his own and bolstered Jules’ role in the traps. The trio transitioned to harvesting the wolves’ organs while he spoke. “...And then it slashed Jules’ face, down his cheek like this—” Cyrus clawed his nails down his face with a blood-soaked hand. He stopped when no one laughed. Evelyn abandoned her task and left them again. “Oh. Sorry…”
Just another day, man. Jules continued to remove the larger fangs from his wolf.
Liam wrapped up his harvest and made a neat pile of teeth, bones, hide, and liver, heart, and other organs. “Well boys,” he said. “Your training is nearly complete. You’re ready to become Gamesmen like myself.” Liam grinned, and Jules laughed. Cyrus looked confused.
Maybe he still feels guilty from his comment earlier. “I don’t want to hunt all my life,” Jules said.
“Hey, I fish too,” Liam said. “You know, I used to be a—” Evelyn slammed a door inside. “Uh, Cyrus, what Rune are you working on these days?” Almost had him. Jules loved to catch his dad slip up and mention things from his days past, before they’d fled to Coralhaven, before he was born.
“I’m trying to figure out Fire.” Cyrus paused his extraction of a tooth and grinned at Jules. “And actually, your son’s gonna pay for it.”
“Yeah, yeah. All’s fair in love, war, and gambling,” Jules said. He yanked out the fang and admired it. “Hm. Still caught the bigger fish, though.”
Cyrus laughed. “Anyway, I must really be from Coralith because I’m so bad at this Fire Rune. It’s downright stereotypical—I’m too skewed towards Water and Earth attributes.”
“Well, when the paperwork goes through, you’ll be a real Coralithian,” Jules said.
“Screw you, orphans have citizenship. Rights, too.”
“And a legal Tideshaper,” Evelyn shouted from inside.
“Save your bickering for your walk to school. This is my final lesson, before I release thee unto the world. Please,” Liam begged, “treat me like I’m important for once, and tell me what you learned today.”
“Stick to close combat.” Liam scowled at Jules. “Sorry, Dad. It’s just who I am. Bows are too primal for me.”
“Plan B is always worth the price,” said Cyrus.
“Salvos,” Liam recited a prayer, “please grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change…”
“Always hunt with a team and a plan.” Jules looked at the two of them.
“Corner your target for efficient disposal.” Cyrus cleanly separated his wolf’s liver from its viscera.
“Ah!” Liam dramatically raised his hands to the heavens. “Thank ye for answering mine prayers. So—What’d you gain?”
Jules perked up. I forgot! Both Jules and Cyrus formed an L-shape with their left index fingers and thumbs to open their System Menus, which they both kept on privacy mode so no one could peek in. Jules felt the familiar hunger pangs of Leveling Up.
> [Pang! Archery increased to level 6.]
>
> [Pang! Hand-to-Hand increased to level 9.]
>
> [Pang! Blades increased to level 9.]
"I Leveled Up Archery, Hand-to-Hand, and Blades once each. Oh, and also Stealth before I silenced everything."
“I Leveled Up Stealth, Archery, and Elemental Control,” Cyrus said.
“Which Elemental Runes do you have now?” Liam asked him.
“Water, Ice, Air, and Earth.” Cyrus grinned ear-to-ear.
Jules smiled. He was happy for Cyrus, whose sole goal in life was to become an Alter. Combat magic, while useless to most citizens, was crucial to Cyrus.
“Good job. We’re proud of you, Cyrus,” Liam said.
We.
“So,” Liam continued, “aside from Gamesman, what Classes are you two considering?”
“Dad, my System Unlock Day isn’t for another two years.”
“Come on Jules,” said Cyrus. “If you want a good Class to start with, you need to pick Skills now. I started at your age last year—That’s why I know so many Runes.”
I know Runes, too. I just…can’t show you. Besides, I think my Levels are higher than yours. “Tease all you want, but for seventeen, you don’t know that many.”
“I don’t know that many boring ones,” Cyrus corrected. Fair point.
“Anyway,” Jules said. “I’ve always been drawn to the Shaman Class.” Liam watched his son intently, quietly.
“Really…why that?” Cyrus asked. He struggled to extract his last fang. “Seems pretty boring to me. Ghosts have wisdom, sure, but they probably don't understand industrialization—”
“I don't really know why. Conjuration, talking with spirits, it just appeals to me.” Jules plopped a heart down on the dirt and relaxed, his harvest complete.
> [Fatherly Advice — Quest Objective COMPLETED: Harvest your loot.]
“Can’t do that without Runes,” Cyrus said. He split the wolf’s jaw open wide to get that tooth. “Can’t do anything without Scripts, really.”
Jules sat there and gazed at the loot from his wolf.
“Mr. T., what are your Skills?”
Liam leaned in to them. “Stealth. Stalking.” He feigned a crazed look. “Murder.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched. “All the best traits of a Gamesman.”
And only one real Skill among them. Curious, Jules studied his father. He knew his mother was still at 1st Rank—as she liked to remind him, blaming him for the family disgrace—but he figured his father was beyond the 2nd Rank he claimed to be. But he’s only listing three Skills. He can’t even be 2nd Rank without five. Unless he’s hiding something, which he always is.
As if reading his son's mind, Liam stood up. "Well boys, it's high time I finally came clean."
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