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What Will Be | Book 2 | Chapter 16
🕑 Added 2025-02-25 01:41:03 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note: Thank you all for your continued support! It means the world to me. For those of you not in the WWB Discord, I delayed the chapter slightly so I could sleep off a migraine and the potent medications that help me to sleep off a migraine. Thank you for your patience.
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Despite the size of the heavy door, it swung open easily under my touch, as if the building itself were welcoming me in. There were scattered wooden tables with accompanying chairs, lines of barrels ready to be tapped stacked behind the bar, a fireplace built into the stone walls- it was largely what I expected to see, lit by sunlight filtering in through high-set windows. There was more to it, though. Each table had its own centrepiece. One was a bunch of flowers arranged in a shoe, another was a figurine that looked like a much-too-fat cat struggling to lick itself; there were odds and ends everywhere, splashes of color and personality that brought to mind the occasionally chaotic spread of a home.
Cozy. That’s the word, I thought. Stepping into the place, there were no signs of patrons. My midmorning arrival coincided with when most people were engrossed in their daily responsibilities. It was not empty, though. An aproned woman wiping down the bar looked up in response to my arrival, the bright smile on her face making her look like hospitality personified.
“Why hello there, young man. Welcome to Isa’s Spare Boot.”
I waved, returning a soft smile of my own.
“Good morning, can-” I paused, glancing just behind me to where Fudge was patiently waiting, his tongue lolling and tail wagging in wide, slowly sweeping motions. “I am here with my dog, is he allowed inside, or…”
“The dog will need to stay outside, unfortunately. But,” she raised a finger, “making a boy’s dog wait out front simply will not do.” She took a few quick steps backwards, leaning into what I imagined constituted the tavern’s back of house. “Hey mom!” she called. “Can you guide this nice young man out back so his dog can be spared the hassles of passers-by?”
I heard a grumbled reply and the sound of shuffling steps before Isa emerged into the taproom, drying her hands on a rag that was poking out of one of the many pockets on her own apron.
“Who in their right mind brings a dog to- Well, look here! Lionel’s little brat has come to grace us with a visit.” She chuckled.
The other woman - Isa’s daughter - looked between the two of us, her facade of customer service momentarily replaced by wide-eyed alarm.
“Lionel?! He had a-” She gestured in my general direction, her words devolving into a confused sputter.
Isa cackled at the orchestrated misunderstanding.
“Not like that. He is the little Slayer recruit. You remember what the twins said?”
Understanding dawned on her daughter’s face and a faint flush overtook her cheeks.
“Right. I remember.” She cleared her throat and stepped out of view, her words growing fainter the further she grew. “I’ll prepare a bowl of water for the dog so take him out back now please.”
Isa watched her go before turning her attention to me.
“Come on then,” she chirped, “best do as she says.”
“Hello again, Isa,” I said, not disguising my grin as she made her way over to me. “Your daughter seems like a kind lady.”
“Kind? Absolutely, but the poor girl got her father’s wit.” She stepped past me and onto the streets. “Now hush for a moment and follow me. When I haggled the renovator a little too harshly, the spiteful sod left his mark on the gate to get round back; Skill-cursed latch is a fighter.” She reached over to ruffle the top of Fudge’s head mid-step, a passing gesture that briefly sent his ears flapping.
Fudge, pleased by the attention, looked to me for guidance. I chuckled and fell into step behind Isa as my answer, to which Fudge happily joined me. I decided that my first impression of Isa held up in our second meeting; there was something distinctly likable about the woman.
‘Out back’ ended up being larger than I anticipated, the enclosed space practically its own plot of land. Isa’s cart was off to one side near the gate and her donkey, Floopy, was standing in the yard. He also wasn’t alone.
“Avast, Beast! Your days of being a monster are over! Avast!” A boy - one nebulously younger than me, at my best guess - pointed a wooden sword at Floopy who seemed utterly unamused by the performance.
“Avast?” I asked quietly.
Isa smiled warmly at her-
Grandchild? Child? Neighbour’s- She smiled at the kid who hadn’t yet reacted to our presence, despite Isa having taken a solid handful of moments to loudly wrestle with the gate latch.
“It is a pirate word - his new favorite. Pirates are criminals of the oceans. Oceans are like lakes, but much, much bigger.” She took the time to quickly explain any potentially unfamiliar words to me, correctly guessing that my childhood had been largely landlocked.
I actually don’t even know where the nearest ocean is, I realized. Before I could reflect on that thought further, Fudge’s spike of suspicious excitement broke my concentration. He trotted in after us and, seeing Floopy, bounded over, treating the plaited-mane donkey with the same fascination that he gave to the horses at the Slayer Fort.
That, it seemed, was enough to finally grab the child’s attention. With a mind full of pretend monster slaying, seeing a dark furred, opalescent dog charging in his direction led to the obvious outcome; the boy screamed, that almost-shrieking scream some kids make.
Fudge! Heel! I fired off a sharp whistle and he immediately skidded to a stop before turning around and obediently returning to my side. A note of confusion entered the sense I got from him through the Tamer Bond.
“Sorry about that,” I said, but Isa was already waving me off.
“Was just a bit of a fright, no harm.” She walked over to the boy who ran to meet her halfway and latched onto her leg, the scream having turned into that liminal not-quite-crying-but-still-whining thing kids did sometimes. Kids did a lot of weird things, really.
I wonder how Marco’s doing. I hadn’t thought of home in a while, but reminders always popped up in the strangest of places.
“Baba, the monster it-”
“Not a monster, Rio, just a dog. Look.” She pointed back in my direction and I offered a small wave in return. With the support of his - presumably - grandmother, Rio mustered up the courage to reassess the situation. His cry died down to sniffles as he studied Fudge and I.
“That is a very big dog,” he eventually said.
“Alternatively, you are just a very small child,” Isa teased. It was around that time the backdoor to the tavern opened, revealing Isa’s daughter carrying a bucket full of water.
“Okay, I have the w-” She paused and took in the scene. “Did something happen?”
“Just a bit of a fright, mom,” Rio said, parroting his grandmother’s earlier words.
“I can see why, that is a very big dog.” I couldn't help but smile at how alike the family was in countless small ways. “Well, you boys play nice now.” Satisfied that everything was under control, she returned to whatever work awaited her.
“Is that boy here to play with me?” Rio asked, a slight tilt to his head as he looked at me with renewed interest.
Nope, none of that. The days of pretending to act my age were behind me - that one, important notable exception aside.
“Actually, I am here to see your Baba,” I said quickly. “I do not play with anyone, really.” When Isa raised an eyebrow at me, I elaborated; her connection to Lionel earned her a measure of goodwill. “My Core Skill helped me mature, see?”
“Oh… I see…” Rio said softly, looking down at the ground for a moment. “That is okay. I can keep playing with Floopy.”
“For the record, kid, there is a difference between being mature and being grown up,” Isa said before sighing. “But, if it is me you want to talk to, we can head inside. You need to be fed.”
“Actually, I-” Isa shut me up with a look that made it clear refusing the incoming meal was not an option. “That sounds lovely, actually. Thank you.”
Isa chuckled.
“There is hope for you yet- actually, Little Lionel never gave me your name.”
“Will,” I said, gesturing at myself.
“Well, Will, there is hope for you yet. Rio, you show our guest to a table and keep an eye on him while I whip us up a snack.”
Rio immediately brightened.
“Okay!” he chirped before running over and grabbing my wrist and dragging me towards the tavern. We made it a few steps before he let go. “Oh! Wait a second!” He scurried over to Floopy and collected the wooden sword from where he’d dropped it on the ground. “Much better.” Isa watched with faint amusement as he carefully resumed his earlier position to continue guiding me.
Wait here Fudge, I thought, directing my thoughts to the Tamer Bond. It wasn’t strictly necessary. I’d given Fudge his release command when Rio grabbed me and he used that new found freedom to immediately resume his study of all things equine.
In any case, tolerating the kid in exchange for a meal and Isa’s favour wasn’t the worst I could do.
-0-0-0-0-0-
I collapsed on my bed with a tired groan. The urge to pulse Recovery was there, but it was also important to exercise my Skills independently of mana, when I could. I’d earned my upcoming rest, and there was a certain satisfaction that came from being exhausted. It was a reminder of the day’s hard work, of everything I’d accomplished.
Dealing with Rio ended up being simple enough. I just asked him about pirates and proceeded to let him talk at me until Isa and her daughter - who I eventually learned was named Analuita - emerged carrying drinks and one of those platters laden with cured meats, fruits, and cheeses.
What were they called again? The ‘English’ word had escaped me. Choput- Chacashootery… Shashoopery Board? Whatever.
As we ate, I explained the situation to Isa, leaving out the specifics of my arrangement with Engel. Isa, with all the subtlety of an exploding building, generously offered to personally guide me to the people from whom I could commission the equipment I needed, with the ‘unfortunate caveat’ that Rio would need to join us, since his mother would be too preoccupied preparing for the evening to watch him properly. I rolled my eyes at the memory.
Even with the obvious meddling, it was too good an offer to pass up. I spent the afternoon wandering Dorbe, meeting craftsmen, and entertaining a kid who evidently struggled making friends. I knew Isa meant well, but her stubborn commitment to the bit was exhausting in its own way.
Looks like I get to play babysitter again. If I ever went to visit Isa again - and she seemed confident that I would - I’d have to ask Rio what his Core Skill was. If it was something even remotely impressive I would bail. I wasn’t ready to deal with all that again.
A yawn escaped my lips.
“Good night, Fudge,” I said, looking at the content goofball through increasingly drooping eyelids. In a few days I’d get to pick at Cruz’s brain again. It was an exciting thought, but not so exciting that it pulled me out of my inevitable rest. I let sleep claim me.
