Forty Years of This [Monster Hunter World]

Chapter 48

A birthday in Astera wasn't celebrated on it's own. No one would ever have time to do anything if they were always celebrating someone's birthday, so instead at the end of the month, all of the birthdays prior were thrown together in one event. If there were gifts to be given, that was done in private. And on their grandson's birthday, the Commander and Quartermaster met the boy in the storehouse.

"Now you're mostly full grown, but you'll need to wait for the Huntsman's guidance. You don't want to hurt yourself."

The young Team Leader beamed at the wrapped package. He knew what it was, or he did in general. It was a great sword. It was a weapon he'd wanted to learn since he was a wee thing. When he pulled the canvas off of it, he found himself holding the plainest, dullest, most in need of a good oiling and sharpening bone greatsword he'd ever seen in his life. His mouth hung in bafflement.

"It was your mother's," offered the Quartermaster. "She preferred the longsword, so this didn't see much use. But it's an older sword, and it's been kept in decent condition. The perfect blade to play around with. You'll be able to modify it without any guilt or hesitation. A completely blank slate. Kind of like the expression on your face."

The boy pursed his lips, but ultimately he was delighted and honored. He stood stock straight with the blade in his hands. "I'm going to make you both proud."

"You already have." The Commander patted his shoulder. "Now run along, and take this to the chef. It'll give you an excuse for being in here."

The boy rolled his eyes-- by now most of the other hunters knew who his grandparents were, or at least that the Commander was one of them (though it was a safe bet to say that the Commander's long time partner was the other one), and while he still didn't want to be openly treated differently, there was no real secret anymore. The boy trotted off to deliver the package, leaving the two older men behind.

The next day was the birthday celebration, or birthmonth celebration really. A few hunters had gone out of their way to forage for their friends' favorite foods, and since it was only the third celebration since the recent landing, the novelty hadn't quite worn off. It wouldn't be long until the monthly events became more intimate things among friends, but for now it still gathered a crowd, and the Meowscular Chef had to work double time to compensate for his mentor's retirement.

The Commander tended to make an appearance but ultimately take his leave so that the commissioners could actually feel at ease enough to celebrate. He knew this time his grandson would be glad to see him, but even so he had to remain distant. He watched as the boy, the Team Leader, gathered with a few other commissioners from various fleets. They all knew what was coming-- those in the first celebration had been startled, but as the commissioners gathered, they linked arms and stood in a line. Then, from behind them, their friends lifted buckets of cold mountain water, and dumped them on their heads.

"There!" One shouted. "I don't have to take a bath for another year!"

The Commander laughed at that-- the water was the worst part of getting older, and with a sudden dread he realized that his birthday was in a few months.

He stayed a bit longer than he normally did-- long enough for the Quartermaster to come find him and sit with him. The food was good, the company was pleasant, and the commissioners didn't seem to notice him anymore. It was then that the Fourth Fleet's quartermaster approached them.

"Commander, the Fourth Fleet would like to formally adopt your Team Leader into our ranks. Or informally. Both, actually. For paperwork purposes, it'd make my life that much easier, and," she jerked her head back. "We like him."

"That sounds reasonable." He looked over to the Quartermaster who nodded with raised eyebrows. "You have my permission."

"And we want you to oversee it." She again jerked her head towards the crowd. "We're gonna pin a badge on him. We'd like you to hand him over. Or stand there and act like this is an actual thing. You do a good job looking like you're in charge, and it'd give some weight to it, we think."

With a pleased but confused smile, the Commander stood and joined the Provisioner with the crowd.

"Fleetless ████, how would you like to be one of us?"

"Bwuh?" His grin grew. "I would like that. You offering?"

"Commander, may we claim this fleetless wild child into the Commission as a part of the Fourth?"

"I don't see what else you'd do with him. He's too young for the other fleets, and he seems useful enough. You have my rubber stamp."

"Good!" And before the Team Leader could respond, the Provisioner stuck a pin with the Fourth Fleet's insignia on his vest. "One of us!" She began a chant, but it didn't hold for long.

Then the Quartermaster leaned over and whispered into the Commander's ear, "this means he gets a paycheck. He will legally exist in the Guild's records."

"So when he goes to the Old World," the Commander turned to his partner. "Something about paperwork?"

"Yes." The Quartermaster smiled. "Something about paperwork."

The Commander never promoted his grandson to Field Team Leader. He never offered him any promotion. He never put the idea forward, so concerned was he that he might appear to be acting purely as a grandparent and not the Commander, but when it was suggested to him that his grandson be given the role, he grinned. It was a role given to someone who could work with anyone, to someone who could gauge the skill of their fellow hunters, who could show them the ways of the land and Astera. It was a managerial position built on charisma, practical skill, and wisdom. When the other hunters all agreed he'd be the best fit, the Commander was only too proud to agree.