Chapter Four-Hundred Ninety-Nine (Patreon)

______

Pul

______

He needs to tell them.  That’s the first thought Pul has when waking up this morning.  He’s talked to his parents a little, but they always try to change the subject, and he keeps letting them.  All three of them want things to stay quiet and simple… but Pul’s not sure that’s an option anymore.  Pretending there’s no problem isn’t addressing it.

But he can’t keep ignoring it, especially not with the prep he and his friends are going through for the raid.  Even if they fail the trial, Pul knows they’re not going to give up adventuring, because he’s not going to give it up.  He actually likes adventuring, just like he likes being a butcher.

Now he just needs to figure out how to tell his parents.  Because the next step in his prep is one that will definitely impact them, too.

He thinks as he gets dressed, trying to come up with some way to gently explain it, but he’s already tried everything he could think of.  He sighs as he exits his room and heads for the kitchen, his heavy mood impervious to the delicious smell of bacon and hashbrowns in the air.

Seeing his parents lifts his mood somewhat, even with the prospect of him having to talk with them about this.  Mom’s at the stove, humming as she tends the pans for breakfast, ensuring everything will be done at the same time.  After learning from Ragnar, he appreciates how difficult it really is to time cooking several different things to finish at once.  Dad’s at the table, going over the inventory and the orders people expect to pick up.  They’ve got a lot of turkeys in lately, and boars are always a popular hunt, so Dad needs to decide between preserving them for later, or selling them quickly.

Pul personally thinks the turkeys are best fresh, while boar meat takes to salting, curing, or smoking like they were made for it.  He only needs to inhale the scent of bacon to be proven right in that.  But that’s beside the point.  For now, he just quietly takes a seat at the table.

“Good morning, sweetie!” cheerfully greets his Mom, and his Dad looks up to smile as well.

“Morning, Son.”

“Morning,” he answers, still trying to decide what he should say.  He briefly considers waiting until after breakfast, but he quickly discards the idea.  He’s been delaying too much already.  No wonder Teemo just says things.

He sighs, finally deciding to follow in the Voice’s footsteps.  “Mom.  Dad.  I might be going on the big raid everyone’s talking about.”

Dad sighs.  “I still don’t like it, but you did well enough fighting that flying snake.”  Mom nods her head, tossing the pan to make sure the potatoes cook evenly.

“Not that raid.  That’s the raid boss.  I mean the one that’s going after the dungeon in the Molten Abyss.”

He can hear his mom gasp at that, and though she’s far too experienced to let something like that make her throw the pan’s contents across the kitchen, she does put the pan down with a clatter.  Dad’s weary acceptance vanishes as he frowns, but Pul barrels on before either of them can say anything.

“It won’t just be me, but my friends, too.  Thdeim’s making a challenge for us, and if we can pass it, he’ll let us all go.”

“It’s too dangerous,” objects Dad.

“That’s what the challenge is for.  Thedeim doesn’t really want us to go, either, but we’re strong.  Our party can delve almost anywhere in Thedeim’s territory!  There’s grown adventuring parties that can’t say that!”

“But they are grown, sweetie,” tries Mom.  “They’ve had the time to learn adventuring.”

“That’s the only reason we’re agreeing to the challenge, Mom.  We’re strong and we know it, but we also know there’s a lot of things we don’t know yet.  We’re used to Thedeim, not other dungeons.  But if we only ever delve him, what’s the point of getting stronger?  I can’t stick to the fillet knife forever.  I need to be able to use the cleaver, too.”

Mom looks troubled, but returns to tending the meal while Dad continues to frown.  “You pick up that cleaver too soon, you’ll take your fingers off, Pul,” he finally says, even using Pul’s actual name instead of his alias.

“I know, Dad.  But I’ll never be a butcher if I never use it, will I?”

“It’s too soon,” he insists.  “That trip out with the Ranger and her party was one thing, but this…”

“That’s what the challenge is for, Dad,” Pul replies.  “We won’t even lose any fingers if we fail.  You know how good Thedeim is at keeping people safe.  We’ll probably be bruised, even if we beat it, but we’ll know where we stand, and what we should do to get better.”

Dad still looks troubled as he reaches over and pulls Pul’s chair closer, then pulls him in for a hug.  “We worried ourselves sick while you were gone, Pul.  Not just to the North, but with the thieves, too,” he confesses, voice thick with emotion.  “We just want a quiet life…”

Pul hugs him in return.  “I know, Dad.  I was worried, too, about you guys.  I want you to have peace, too!  Which is why I’m going to get strong enough to make sure you have it, and to be able to have some of my own.”  He gives his Dad a squeeze.  “I’m gonna be a butcher and an adventurer, Dad.  My friends want to do more than just delve, too.  I’m not gonna just go run off and get myself killed.”

Mom comes over and hugs them both.  They stay like that for a time, before Dad squeezes Pul one more time before releasing him, looking tired, but no longer mad.  “I know, Son.  I wish it was me doing all that, but… I can’t.  All I can do is make sure there’s peace for you to come back to.  You just make sure you can come back to it.”

Pul smiles and pulls them both into another quick hug, before his Mom excuses herself to start frying the eggs for breakfast, too.  “You can count on it, Dad.  All of us look out for each other.  We’ll be as safe as we can be.”

“So what’s this challenge you’ve been talking about?” asks Mom as she cracks eggs.

“It’s… well, we don’t know the details yet.  Thedeim says we don’t know a lot about the Betrayer’s territory, so we’re just gonna have to be ready for anything.  Lava is a danger, but we already have our gear for that.  We’ve been bugging some of the older adventurers for info about the least and lesser, too.  They’re supposed to be spawns from it.  And… you remember that attack on the Shield church and the Hold a while ago?  Those were Harbingers.  One attacked at the raid, too, so we know a little about how to handle those, also.  They’re supposed to be scions, so we have some idea of how strong things will be,” he explains, glad to be able to talk to his parents about it.

They both still look worried, but they don’t try to talk him into changing his mind.  “Do you have everything you’ll need to face one of those things?” Dad asks.

“Uh… not yet.  Rhonda is researching mental defense spells, and we’ve been trying to get some gear for it, too.  Their mental attacks are strong, so we’re definitely going to need protection before we try the challenge.”

Dad nods at that.  “Good.  What else are you doing to prepare?”

“Well…” Pul trails off as Mom puts a plate in front of him and Dad, and soon all three quiet to enjoy the breakfast cooked with plenty of love.  After, Pul helps clean up, and remembers the other reason he needed to talk with them about all this.

“You asked what else I was doing, Dad?” He nods, so Pul continues.  “Well, my friends all have tamed a denizen.  Rhonda has Lucas, her spider, and Freddie has his own spider, Fiona.  Larrez even has a living vine named Rose.  They all help immensely, so… today, I’m going to tame something, too.  Or try to, at least.”

Dad looks at him in surprise, then suspicion.  “You’re not getting a drake or one of those huge bears, are you?”

Pul snorts in laughter and shakes his head.  “No, nothing like that!  I was thinking of something a bit more… subtle.  My class has a lot of stealth bonuses, so I wouldn’t want something like that around anyway.”

“Maybe one of those snakes or the ravens?” suggests Mom, and Pul shakes his head at that as well.

“They are cool, but also not what I’m after.  I’ve heard Thedeim has a new kind of fox that might work, but I think I want something that's not even one of his denizens at all.  I want one of Violet’s gremlins.”

His parents share a look of surprise, before Dad smirks.  “Now Son, a pet is a major responsibility…”

Maybe he shouldn’t have brought this up after all.