TINA
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The door to Will’s room remained closed. Eventually, it would be Marco’s room. Until then, Tina didn’t trust herself to see it; the mere thought was crippling. Never before had the absence of another so thoroughly impacted her.
She was no stranger to separation. It had been years since she’d seen most of her family, and their correspondence had slowed to barely a trickle. She hadn’t even told her father about Will’s special circumstances; even if he’d been able to help, she knew first hand that her family’s aid did not come without a cost.
That was to say nothing of the dogs. Countless litters she had helped bring into the world; she loved those pups, she cared for them and, for most, she eventually sent them on their way. She felt sadness when they disappeared over the horizon. Every. Time. It was a selfish, short-lived thing, though. She knew those dogs went on to do good in the world, to fulfil their purpose, a purpose she prepared them for.
All that experience, what should have equated to some kind of resilience, amounted to nothing in the face of her Will being out of reach.
Tina stood outside, gently rocking a napping Marco in her arms. Marco was getting better at sleeping through the night; he’d even started crawling. There was so much to be happy about, yet most days it all felt overshadowed by the hole in her heart that her oldest son used to fill.
I am an awful mother. It was a recurring thought, one she had trouble finding the motivation to dispute. How could she? She held Marco a little closer. A little tighter. There was a spot on his forehead, one that looked no different than the space around it, yet in Tina’s mind it stood out like a beacon. It was the spot one of her tears landed, on a day the sadness shook the hold she had on it.
It mattered not that Marco was unlikely to remember the days of his infancy. The pain she felt was no excuse for such a shameful display. Her tears were supposed to be private, if not from Tulos, then at least from her son; her burdens were not his to bear. What kind of mother would do such a thing? An awful one. There was no other conclusion.
Beside her, Vigil stirred. Tina’s emotions had crossed the Tamer Bond, an increasingly common occurrence despite the efforts she made to keep them to herself.
SAFE. The feeling - that was not quite a word yet conveyed its meaning all the same - forced its way through the Bond as Vigil pressed his head against her back.
A sniffle escaped Tina’s nose, accompanied by a shuddering breath. Even when she tried to shut herself off from Vigil - to shield him from her pain, too - he continued to stand by her side. Unwavering in his loyalty. Unconditional in his love. Her actions were deplorable, something that a Tamer should never do; she knew that, and despite using the few rare, good days she had trying to make it up to Vigil, it was yet another source of the guilt that continued to suffocate her.
“Thank you,” she said ever so softly. She did not deserve Vigil.
She didn’t deserve Tulos, either. The man she had dedicated herself to was facing a crisis of his own, on top of their son being gone. She glanced over towards the workshop. Tulos had been spending most of his free time there recently, when he wasn’t working.
In that, the pair were similar. Their responsibilities did not suddenly vanish in the wake of personal tragedy.
I wonder if he has trouble convincing himself to get out of bed, too. Tina hadn’t told Tulos about that, about the crushing weight that she felt most mornings when life reasserted itself. She could not possibly tell him that some days she considered leaving her baby unattended and the dogs unfed.
She never actually would be so neglectful, she knew that, but she also knew that simply having the thought was just as bad. It made her the worst kind of person, and she was scared to let Tulos know just how awful she was. She shuddered again, all the while she was supposed to be spending some quality time with her son - the one she still had - and so the cycle of guilt started all over again.
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TULOS
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Tulos reared back, raising the axe over his head in a movement he’d practiced countless times before. His legs were spread for support. One of his hands slid down the haft, joining the other close to its heel. Momentum was transferred, force was applied, and as the axe fell it easily split the log in two before biting into the stump beneath it. It was a matter of control, of choosing what to cut, otherwise he was liable to drive his axe into the earth whenever there was firewood that needed chopping.
Strictly speaking, the wood didn’t need chopping, but he found some small measure of peace in the activity.
They have not come for me yet. Why? His thoughts had strayed from the present and seldom found their way back. Instead, they’d come to reside in the regrettable past and uncertain future. When his beloved came to harm, he acted without thought. In doing so, he jeopardized everything - the life he had built, the safety of his family, all of it.
A few words in the right ears would have brought the weight of The Crown down on him, and there would have been little he could do to escape that judgement. Except… that hadn’t happened.
Not even Lionel’s contacts had heard any word of Tulos in The Crown’s bureaucratic halls. When he messaged Tulos on the Mirrorscroll with word of Will’s safe arrival at the Slayer Fort in Dorbe, it included a promise to monitor the situation. Tulos checked the scroll several times every day, like a nagging compulsion that promised disaster should it be ignored. He reached up and touched the side of his face, finding stubble. He’d forgotten to shave again.
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Acting to protect Tina was not the source of his regret, though. He’d have made that choice again in a heartbeat. It wasn’t even a choice. It was… natural. No, the seed of regret gnawing at Tulos as its roots carved into his mind came about later. For, if Tulos’ worries were unfounded, it meant that ruin would eventually come by his own hand, a consequence of the choice he and Tina made the day after Will left.
System
Tulos had come to peace with the consequences of never Advancing. At least, he thought he had. Faced with the frustration of loss and the pain of injury; holding the parting gift, the precious insights of a son he would not see for System-knew how long; and confident that the consequences of his actions were all but inevitable, Tulos was able to convince himself, with Tina’s blessing, to Advance.
It would still be a couple of years before his scheduled Status review, but when that day came, Hwan would be forced to report Tulos for breaking the terms of his discharge. He took a moment to study his new status window, even as part of him regretted bringing it about.
Titan’s Reluctant Axe was a complicated existence, the type of Skill he knew many would literally kill for. Despite that, it was Recovery that he was most proud of. Will’s words were strange, but Tulos devoted himself to comprehending them as best he could. Between them and his memories of the healing fire that initially closed his wounds, it was enough. He’d been offered a specialized variant, too - Recovery [Body] - but decided against it.
Now I share a Skill with him, too.
It was a small thing, but it was a connection. Tulos willed the System to close, a hint of a smile on his face. Recovery was the one silver lining to what was probably his biggest error, and he felt it pulse slightly in response to the positive thoughts it inspired.
He wandered over to his workbench and considered the several half-finished whittling projects he’d discarded, each one bearing a flawed representation of his son’s face. He needed his finished product to be perfect, for as much as he missed Will he could tell that Tina missed him all the more. He could not comfort her with words - the right ones always escaped him, and he did not want to burden her with his worries of further Crown involvement.
What he could do, though, was make her something. It would never be a replacement for the real thing, but maybe being able to see their son’s face - even when he wasn’t present - would bring them some comfort.
It needs to be better. I need to be better. He picked up the small hatchet he used to work the wood and prepared to start on a fresh piece.
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TINA
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A familiar sensation touched upon the Tamer Bond, the equivalent of someone knocking on a door. It was Vigil’s way of signalling that he had something important to share. He stepped away from Tina, breaking the contact between them, and lifted his snout skyward, breathing deeply of the air before barking an alarm.
UP!
Tina lifted her chin and, sure enough, spotted a shape gradually making its way down towards her. The little brown duck trumped a quack to announce its presence before awkwardly touching down, furiously beating its wings to slow its descent. It was not Cortez, but was likely one of the giant duck’s many descendants. Normally, they deposited mail at predetermined locations. That one had flown straight to her home suggested her former teacher’s hand in the matter.
The duck stood tall and waddled towards Tina, gesturing to the miniature pack it wore with its head.
“Thank you,” Tina said, the unexpected appearance of mail enough to briefly conjure a response that almost sounded normal. The duck, naturally, did not respond but sat patiently while Tina recovered two letters from its bag. When she was done, it did not linger, and soon it was a spec in the sky.
“What was that?” Tulos called, having made his way over in response to Vigil’s bark.
“Letters. They… this one it- Will sent us a letter.” Tina was supposed to feel excited by that, she knew, and she was, but the happiness didn’t feel like how it was supposed to.
Tulos pulled her and Marco into a hug. That was right, she was still holding Marco. She had to support him with one arm to get the letters.
“That is wonderful,” Tulos said, though he could not hide from her that he, too, remained conflicted. “Open it, please.”
“Oh, yes, can you-” Tina did not have to finish her thought before Tulos carefully extracted Marco from her arms. She thanked him with her eyes before focusing on the letter. As she read it aloud, a small weight felt like it was being lifted from her shoulders. It was one thing to get an update from Lionel, but…
“He is okay,” Tulos said when the letter was finished.
Tina replied with many small nods.
“I want to read it again.”
“Of course, love. I will put Marco to bed.”
Tina just nodded again and handed Tulos the other letter, not even acknowledging its existence as she returned her focus to the one from Will. She sat down where she’d been standing, and Vigil lay down behind her so that she might lean against him.
My Will…
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TULOS
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Tulos watched Marco as he slept. It was good that Will had written them. He looked outside to where Tina still sat and decided to give her the space she needed. Instead, he sat on the chair next to the crib and finally looked at the second letter.
It was addressed to him. A pit of ice formed in Tulos’ stomach. The Crown had finally sent for him. Or, maybe, he was jumping to conclusions. The only way to know for sure was to read the letter’s contents, so he did.
Tulos Duscall
Your history is certainly a curious one. The master that would never be - banished to the edge of nowhere and largely forgotten in favour of those who would not waste their potential. You are the fighter who would not fight. Or rather, you were. I can see that you now have something you are willing to fight for.
I want you to nurture that new motivation. Officially, you are now willingly under the umbrella of my authority, and thus, under my protection, though I have the means of keeping such assignments concealed. You may continue to live your life as if nothing ever happened, but one day I will call upon your talents with the expectation that those talents are sufficient. Refusal or failure will have consequences.
If you believe I was mistaken in your willingness to submit to my authority, you may turn yourself in and abandon those you so bravely fought for. If you try to speak of the contents of this letter to anyone - yes, even your wife and Slayer friend - I will know, and I will consider it your refusal of my generous offer. Your village head has been briefed, but that is no excuse to speak with him on the matter. I will reiterate: You. Tell. No. One.
You fought hard to protect your family once, Tulos. I simply ask that you do so again.
Signed,
Grand Inquisitor, Rosita Silponyana
I do love writing these interludes, but this one was rough. What are your thoughts on Rosita's play?
You can read up to 10 Chapters Ahead over on my . Today's chapter is an interlude focusing on Rosita. If the end of this chapter made you hate her, why not ride that wave?
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