Forty Years of This [Monster Hunter World]

Chapter 43

The Quartermaster's favorite person, aside from the Commander of course, was the Fourth Fleet's quartermaster. She was bright, she was sociable, she was willing to work, and most importantly she got along with him. The Admiral, for his part, would quickly disappear back into the wilderness on the hunt for his black dragon, and shortly after the Huntsman returned to Astera. A new biologist took over for the old botanist who'd been a part of the First Fleet, and oddly enough, a few hunters who'd retired returned.

The hunters stayed for a few weeks before grabbing a ship and sailing off. The Commander was not happy about it-- he didn't like losing a ship for one-- but he couldn't contradict the Admiral, and the Admiral had already given them permission. Before he could slip off into the wilderness again, the Commander cornered him.

"What the hell, ███████?" He stood in the door of the Admiral's temporary quarters. The Admiral was packing lightly with a few personal things he regarded as momentos.

"What do you mean?" The Admiral turned from his pack with an open locket in his hand. He closed it, but he made no secret of it or the two distinct eyes expertly engraved on the inner metal. The Commander always thought it was weird, but it was evidently A Thing in their family. Something about his loved ones always having an eye on him and keeping him safe.

"I mean you let a gaggle of old, rusty hunters take one of our ships and go off on a wild journey without approaching me or anyone for that matter about it. They're going to die for nothing out there-- not on a hunt, but on the sea."

"Look, ████, how old are we?" The Admiral crossed his arms, as he turned towards his old friend. "Fifties, right? You're fifty on the dot, aren't you? There abouts? Now you and I have family. We have someone waiting for us back at home. People who aren't hunters. But doesn't a part of you still want to die with your boots on? Doing something you love until your final moments? Doing something worthwhile? I know you do, or otherwise you would have left a long time ago. Your family would follow you to the Old World if you wanted to retire.

"But those hunters? The ones who went off in that ship? They came back because they needed to. Retirement didn't suit them. Some of them did have families, but..." The Admiral let out a heavy sigh. "Their real family is their hunting group. They know they're going to die out there, and they know it's going to be a terrible death, but the life they have now is worth it. The oldest hunter in that group is in her seventies. Hell, her wife is with her. It's their last grand journey, but it's not like they're going to die immediately. They're not sailing to their deaths. They're sailing around the continent, learning what they can, recording it, researching, and making this their last home. They're not going to their deaths any more than I am when I leave."

The Commander closed his eyes, but he didn't move from the door. When he opened them again, he looked long and hard at his old friend. The Admiral was still all muscle and strength, but his hair was turning white-- his sideburns were already completely white-- and his face was lined with wrinkled. Each day under the sun had left its mark on his skin in slight imperfections, but time had not been unkind to him.

"If you see the Seeker while you're out there, let me know. It's been... a very long time. I don't know what's worse. Not knowing if he's alive, or him being dead and knowing for certain."

"I'm sure you'll find out some day."

The Admiral left the next morning to meet the Huntsman on his way back to Astera, and a few days after the Admiral's parting, the Huntsman arrived. The Commander heard his daughter crack a joke to her husband about her childhood crush, but even after all those years, it still made him a bit uncomfortable. She was still his little girl in his heart, and it didn't matter how old she was now, she was still too young for the Huntsman and always would be. But for her, it was just a joke picking on her childhood self. Her husband, at least, understood that.

Without wasting any time, the Huntsman was reintroduced to the Commander's grandson, who looked at him with unabashed awe. For the rest of the evening, the boy could talk of nothing else but the Huntsman's armor, his sword, his attitude. The man was instantly the boy's hero, and the Commander felt he had to fight to win back that title. He fought a losing battle.

Grandpa couldn't teach him how to hold a sword. Grandpa couldn't tell him about fighting a rathian and claiming her scales and bones for armor. Grandpa had no tales of the land beyond the mountains or the spined black dragon. Grandpa was old and comfortable. The Huntsman was out of his league.

The Commander was getting better at concealing his gloom and not letting it interfere with his work. He was proud of his grandson for following in his footsteps, or at least becoming a hunter, but he still felt like he was being tossed aside. Even his granddaughter raced to listen to the Huntsman's stories, but at least the youngest wasn't quite aware enough to squirm out of his arms.

One morning at breakfast, he was looking particularly gloomy. Gloomy enough that the Quartermaster placed a hand over his. "The little ones will come back to you. Don't worry. The Huntsman is the cool uncle, but you'll always be their grandpa. But maybe when they get bored of him... they'll finally come around to me. Of course, once I get a hold of them, I'm never letting go." He winked, and somehow that made the Commander feel a little better.