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What Will Be | Book 2 | Chapter 38
🕑 Added 2025-11-01 20:12:07 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note: We are officially back. There will be many posts over November. I was meant to be back sooner but needed to travel again. Dad has growths in the lung and grandma is waiting on the healthcare system for a specific diagnosis on her flavour of memory deterioration. There is not much else we can do right now, though. Just need to ride it out. So I'm home, I'm writing, and the next time I head down will be over Christmas.
The day progressed largely as Alicia had said it would. Signing in. Uniforms. Dormitory. There was a dry undercurrent to our reception, the repetitive phrases and interactions no doubt draining the staff and volunteers. The notable exception being one attendant whose wide smile and enthusiasm bordered on unsettling, if only because of how stark it stood in contrast.
Our latest stop was a lecture hall, the amphitheatre-shaped room lined with wooden benches surrounding a surprisingly large stage. That same stage had been cordoned off with a sequence of simple, temporary structures, draped with heavy curtains such that those within would be afforded a measure of privacy.
Given the size and occupancy of the room, Fudge had been forced to wait in the hall. Blanca, thankfully, had opted to look after him and spare us the hassle of someone trying to remove him for being unattended.
“Will Duscall,” a tired voice droned above the scattered chatter.
“Called it,” Alicia whispered, sounding smug.
“Not exactly a challenging prediction, though.” Around us, I heard a few mutters of complaint. We’d not been waiting long, so to all appearances I’d just cut the line. Those same mutters cut off just as quickly when the wise amongst them whispered in reddening ears. I could imagine what they were saying easily enough.
“This is just a formality,” I noted as I started making my way through the crowd, ignoring the weight of the heavier stares. I’d not been advertising my position as a conscript like I’d seen a few of the other new students doing, their golden lapel pins cutting through inconvenience like warm butter. Still, those in the know certainly knew, and so I was afforded those same privileges when it mattered. “I should not be long.”
The attendant on the stage directed me to one of the booths, kindly holding the curtain aside so that I might enter unobstructed. I thanked them with a slight nod but little else; they were busy and almost certainly didn’t care about me beyond being a blip in their day. The impulse was there, though, having laid long dormant from my days asking cab drivers if they’d had a busy night.
Two plain wooden stools, a low table, and a robed official balancing a stack of parchment in the crook of their elbow. My eyes wandered over the script, as wandering eyes often did, and immediately felt a stab of discomfort, as if the illegible scratches of ink were themselves scratching directly onto my brain.
The official, a young woman whose hair seemed as ink-stained as her fingertips, must have caught sight of my frown for she answered it with a smirk.
“Best not stare too hard, I am Skilled in Encryption and take the personal information of the students here seriously. Not that the other readers do not also take their jobs seriously,” she quickly backtracked, “but I also do, you see?” She nodded to herself, seemingly satisfied with the clumsy save.
“I will keep that in mind,” I said with a chuckle, which earned me a pout. If she was intentionally trying to disarm me, she was doing a great job. I gestured towards the orb on the coffee table, noting the similarities it shared to the one in Hwan’s office. I’d since learned the technical name for them was ‘Skill Reader’ which, while not the most exciting name, was certainly fitting.
“Now, on to business,” the official chirped as she shuffled the stack of papers around. “Can you confirm your name for me, please?”
“Will Duscall.”
“Perfect. You have been a hot topic among the staff here Mr. Duscall; it is beyond rare that The Slayers recruit someone young enough to attend The Academy.” She hesitated, then, and I could see the probing question caught in her throat as curiosity warred with professionalism. The latter won out, and she covered the slip with a cough.
“Normally we allow Crown Conscripts an element of privacy when they enroll, though in your case we deemed it necessary to insist given the claims regarding your current Advancement.” To her credit, she sounded apologetic.
I’d been informed about the ridiculous power play, of course. In a rather uncharacteristic display, Engel practically seethed when he recounted the details to me. It was all politics, in the end, and a way for those in power to peek at the oddity that was me.
“I understand.” We could have kicked up a fuss, but by reluctantly agreeing we gained a grievance to be played later, and I already knew where I intended to cash it in.
“Splendid, in that case, when you are ready please touch the Skill Reader. I will not speak of what I record and only share it with the Academy Master.” It was then I watched as she pressed a fingernail to the page like the nib of a quill, and realized they weren’t just ink stained; a well of ink was suspended beneath her fingernails. There was nothing performative about the movement, it was merely another example of someone’s Skill changing their approach to tasks in small ways.
“Understood.” There was no way for me to know what restrictions, if any, the Academy Master was under, but that was largely the point of the concession. A snapshot of my Skills as they stood would be known by some, so better to accept that it would be known by all. Seeing the attendant’s unusual writing technique was reassuring in that regard; presumably her Skill was Writing or some kind of variation, but it was unlikely her System Window would explicitly outline the myriad ways she chose to utilize the Skill.
It was a reminder. I was surrendering much, but not everything, and those that tried to wield it against me in the future might find themselves caught off guard anyway. I briefly contemplated the notion of trying to fool the Skill Reader but ultimately decided against it. It was the kind of thing I should have asked about ahead of time. I didn’t know what kind of retribution I might invite if I were caught. A regret, to be sure, but I had enough of those that one more wouldn’t hurt.
Perseverance Level 20/30
Taming [Fudge] Level 10/20
Recovery Level 10/20
Movement Level 2/10
Mana Sense Level 2/10
Moments after my hand came in contact with the orb, I sensed a faint pulse of mana travel from it to me and back again, a sensation I had not been able to detect when I was still a baby, and one that reminded me of the technique I used to conjure Fudge’s System window. The enchantments on the orb took the process one step further, manifesting a visual representation of my Skill list which begged the question if something similar would also be possible with a feat of mana manipulation.
“Impressive.” The attendant's comment pulled me away from my musings. She did not look down as she scratched her cryptic shorthand onto the page, like an analogue and very literal form of touch typing. “You can remove your hand now. I have everything I need.” She tapped at the paper a few times, notably without inadvertently depositing any ink– an unintended demonstration of her control.
“For the record, I have so many questions, but-” she gestured vaguely at the space around us. “SStill, if you happen to land in one of the courses I assist with I can probably give you some extra credit if you let me pick your brain. Consider it a standing offer, Mr. Duscall.” She shot me a sheepish smile.
“A bold request given that I do not even have your name,” I said dryly.
“Lapis Parshi.” The reply was instant as the enthusiasm was contagious.
“Ms. Parshi,” I continued, a smile creeping onto my face. “I promise to consider your offer. In exchange, will you consider one of mine?”
-0-0-0-0-0-0-
“How did you go?” I asked, standing with a stretch.
Alicia rolled her eyes at me.
“It was fine, but you made a lot of people stare at me and get the wrong idea about things. For that, I am annoyed.”
“I- Well- Huh.” When I asked Lapis to let Alicia cut the line I hadn’t expected the expediency to annoy her. “Sorry. I did not think that far ahead.”
“No, you did not. Still, you are forgiven…” She grinned. “This means you owe me one.” She fell into step beside me as we made our way out of the lecture hall. I feigned indignation for all of two seconds before deflating, and she giggled at the victory.
“Why do I get the sense I was just played?”
“Because you were, but you still love me all the same.” It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t refute it. I did roll my eyes, but that did little to discourage her.
Stepping into the hall, we saw that Fudge and Blanca were right where we left them, with the former curled into a comfortable ball along the wall to take up as little space as possible. A group of young girls, presumably first years like myself, had stopped to admire him and we were just in time to hear Blanca scold one of them for reaching down to pat him uninvited. The poor girl flinched so hard she practically leapt, some of Blanca’s Skill no doubt seeping into the impromptu lecture.
Fudge wasn’t exactly sure what happened, but I felt his amusement through the tamer Bond all the same. He greeted me with a noise that was equal parts yawn and grumble.
“Blanca is right,” I noted as I approached, addressing the girls while Fudge clambered to his feet. “Fudge might be a big softie most of the time, but if he interprets something as a threat he is trained to defend himself. Best not to take the chance with an unfamiliar animal, right?”
The dog in question largely undercut my authority on the matter by bumping his head into my arm to demand scritches, and Alicia’s giggle didn’t help. The point was valid, though, and I stood by it.
“... Okay?” The girl who opted to be the spokesperson for the group gave an answer devoid of enthusiasm, which only seemed to amuse Alicia more. The trio gave me a strange look before making their way into the lecture hall we’d just left.
“Did I say something wrong?”
Blanca sighed.
“No, Will, but contrary to popular belief young women do not enjoy getting talked down to by their peers.”
“Do not be mean, Blanca,” Alicia chimed in, coming to my defense. “Even with your lessons Will is basically a hermit. We cannot expect him to be normal on his first day.”
Spoke too soon. In Alicia’s defense, she’d gotten notably better at managing herself in unfamiliar social situations than I evidently had. Was I really that rusty?
“I suppose you are right, Alicia. Will, I apologise for holding you to such standards.”
My flat stare was met with a pair of grins, and I made sure to file the memory away for safe keeping. Between classes and our other commitments, it would be a while before the three of us would be able to simply share in silly banter again.
“Well, at least Fudge still likes me.” I gave him a scratch beneath the chin that set his tail wagging.
“Whose dog is that?” A voice called down the hall. A young, wiry boy with an entourage in his wake was marching towards us. Pinned to his lapel was a golden crown, and it was all I could do to suppress a groan.
Of course…
