The Humble Life of a Skill Trainer - Chapter 10 (Patreon)

We gave the soldiers a half an hour before we left the safety of our campsite and started down the road toward the Baron’s castle. I was silent as we trudged along the dusty road trying to work out how we would dodge the mercenaries a second time. That we could attack them never even entered my mind. I knew the bards told tales of men capable of handling entire battalions by themselves, and I would bet on my father versus any four men. Still, I was under no illusion that the two of us could handle the troop.

The choice was simple enough. We had to head back to the city, and the mountain road was the way back. Our options were further limited by the river that followed the path on our right. If we planned to dodge the soldiers, we had only the forest on the left-hand side of the road where we could hide. That would also only work for the first half of our journey. The trail quickly exited from the forest and dipped down into the plains and farmland. We would have little option to hide in the fields. It was doubtful that the farmers would be happy with us hiding in their fields as well. We could only hope that the mercenaries would give up by the point we reached the farmland. With horses, we could have made the return trip as quickly as we had on our ride out, but with our walking pace, we were simply too slow compared to mounted men.

Early in our walk, a small puff of smoke exited Snowy’s pack. When she quickly unstrapped her overflowing pack, a further black cloud billowed out. Waving her hands to clear the air, we could only find the remains of the communication scroll to explain the sudden ash cloud. The partner scroll must have been burned to cause this kind of destruction. We discussed what this might mean for her father but ultimately couldn’t think of how this changed our plans. The interruption of our morning walk seemed to break the damn on Snowy’s silent worries. I was her first choice of a distraction.

“So, what skill does a skill trainer focus on?” Snowy asked as she used her arm to block the early morning light.

I let the consideration of when to make camp drift into the back of my mind while I pondered how to answer my companion.

“Well, that depends on the skill trainer. Most have a focus on some skill or trade, and then they join the skill trainer’s guild later in life. I’m kind of an odd duck in that I trained under my parents, and I’m more of a generalist,” I said, watching for the look that my words would cause.

Right on schedule, Snowy sneered in disgust at the term, but she quickly tried to hide the look.

“Yes, I know most people have that same opinion of generalists,” I said as I shook my head.

I continued, “My main focus is training itself. I love figuring out how to get someone to induce a skill. To improve, to grow. It helps that I have more skills than almost anyone I know,” I said with a chuckle.

To that, Snowy gave me a questioning look, she wanted to know, but propriety held her back from asking. Even hinting with a look was considered rude. On the other hand, I had full access to her status, and that was something reserved for parents. Checking behind us to see if anyone was coming down the mountain trail, I then stared into the cloudless sky for a long moment before deciding to share.

“Most of my work focuses on resistance training; Poison, pain, fear, cold, heat, and so on. Giving my clients someone to focus on and hate seems to help them resist,” I said.

Peeking out of the corner of my eye, I watched Snowy frown, and then she looked away from me. For a while, we walked in silence while Snowy digested my proud boast of torture, and I waited to see if I would be losing a budding friendship. I felt oddly vulnerable during that silent walk. My new [Meditation] skill poked at my mind while I tried to understand my feelings and why losing the regard of the young woman next to me would upset me. As attractive as I found the capable woman, I knew it wasn’t the fear of losing the target of an infatuation. I was clear-eyed about her future station in life and how I would be nonexistent at that level of nobility. No, it wasn’t feelings of lust or puppy love.

“The tribe would often expose the young to the cold. The young hunters would be left in the snow until they drifted into sleep. Warmth, broth, and blankets would keep most from dying. [Cold Resistance] is a mark of courage for a young hunter,” she said, then returned to silence as we trudged along, the dust of the road staining our pant legs.

Seeing the anecdote as the sign of acceptance that it was, I explained my services further.

“Nobles usually want poison resistance. Military men usually pay for fear, cold, and heat resistance. They know how often they can lead to death while on the march. I’ve trained a few with weapons, but that is usually where my father shines,” I said.

Somewhere in the silence waiting for Snowy’s response, I decided to stop hiding what my profession entailed. Good or bad, I would let her see me and have things fall where they may.

Meditation has increased to 6.

The skill increase surprised me, but not so much that it distracted me from my new insight. I was lonely. I was hiding who I was from everyone but my parents. In many cases, I hid behind multiple masks. I was taking a chance to be honest with someone, with who I was and what I wanted from the world. More, she was someone near my age and female. Despite the knowledge that I couldn’t have her and that we might not even make a good match, I still wanted her to see me in a positive light.

At that, I broke the now silent walk with a chuckle.

Snowy gave me another look, this time with a small smile seemingly enjoying the reduced tension of the previous discussion.

“What’s that about?” she asked.

I shook my head before I answered, knowing even as I said it that it was likely too much honesty.

“Mother told me that pretty faces made it hard to think. I never believed her. But, just now, I gained a point in Meditation when I wondered if your beauty might be hampering my thinking. Even the world thinks my mother knew what she was talking about,” I said while trying to downplay my answer with a goofy smile.

Snowy blushed when I called her pretty, but when I mentioned my skill increase, she gave me a searching look.

“Already? To go from five to six on a new skill in one night isn’t unheard of, but it’s still quick. You seem to have a knack for [Meditation],” Snowy said with a smile, but there was something about the smile that said she was hiding some envy.

Imitating Master Clerk Bridlewood, I tapped the side of my nose and mimicked his voice as best I could to say, “Secrets of the skill trainers. Well kept secrets!”

Snowy giggled at my mimicry, something I had always had been good at and contributed to me to earn my acting skill. To be fair, Master Clerk Bridlewood was a bit of a character and so an easy target for good-natured mockery. Given the laughter, I thought it likely that Snowy was familiar with the Master Clerk.

Given the angle of the sun, it was likely a couple of hours until noon. The charm we left was likely to break at that point. The merchant had promised two periods of magical significance but claimed it could last for longer. I doubted the second part of his claim. It seemed likely that his charms were purchased for two periods and that if it lasted further, it was a matter of luck; luck we couldn’t trust. We were almost to the top of a rise before the road continued it’s rolling decent to the farmland. As we reached the top of the hill, I gestured my now relaxed companion to step carefully into the brush.

As she passed through the bushes, I checked to be sure she left no apparent tracks in the dust of the road. I expected that someone who grew up in the North would be skilled at tracking, even if they lacked the skill, and I was happy to see she left no clear marks. Following behind her, I turned to let the branches and leaves bend on my back and then gently return to hide the small deer trail we took into the trees and up into the hills.

“No fire tonight, hmm?” she said in a rhetorical tone as she settled down against a stump to watch the road.

I only nodded, still trying to sort out my thoughts.

Sitting up, she leaned in and asked, “So, what is the secret?”

For a moment I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I then I remembered my joking reply.

Shrugging, I admitted, “It’s not a secret. I’m sure the nobles know it. The more your skills overlap, the easier it is to raise them. A butcher with knife skills will have an easier time raising a skill focused on [Knife-Fighting], the same with cutting anything else; [Carpentry], [Tailoring], even the cutting of a healer: [Surgery]. Each skill helps the other, at least in part.”

Nodding, she picked at her leather armor covered knees she had tucked up next to her chin.

“So that’s it? It doesn’t help much then. It takes time to learn a new skill, and it’s better just to improve your work-related skills,” she said with certainty.

Nodding along, I waited for her to finish the common refrain before I answered with the discovery of the skill trainers. I also noticed the barely hidden bitter tone. I imagine she was concerned about her future trying to learn all the skills of nobility, skills very unlike what she had earned in her training in the North.

“The more skills you have, the easier it is to increase your skills…but it’s also easier to gain skills that overlap.”

That got Snowy’s attention. Skills were rare things and hard to gain. Everyone knew of someone who had spent years working hard to learn a skill and failed, while some young kid effortlessly managed to gain a skill for which they were well suited. The prevailing theory was that everyone had in-born and unchanging traits that influenced their likeliness of obtaining any particular skill.

I could only smile smugly at the look of disbelief before I returned to watching the road. It would be annoying to keep an eye out all day, and the night would be cold to go along with it, but it was better than being run down by mounted soldiers on the road.

Without looking at her, I continued, “I’ve always thought that you only gain a skill when you show talent in that skill while thinking deeply about what you are doing.”

Glancing at Snowy, I noticed I had her full attention.

“There’s long been debate about what makes a skill. How skills form, or if they have always existed. Take coopers for example. I’m sure when the profession started, they were mostly just carpenters who had the [Carpentry] skill. But now, they are a different profession, and [Cooper] is a skill on its own. My guess is that how we view the world, what we think of it, all of that, goes into the skills we gain. I can’t prove it. But it makes sense to me.”

Before I could continue pontificating on my favorite subject - and personal opinion about it - I snapped my mouth closed as the sound of hooves echoed from the road. The group of soldiers rode towards town at a reasonable clip. Their horses still looked fresh, and each rider was eyeing the edge of the way and the hills as they passed. I knew to hold still, it was easier for a trained hunter to notice movement and colors than a quiet human in the brush. Even so, I was kicking myself for not hiding a part of my face behind a tree while I waited. Mother once mentioned that humans see faces in gloom better than any other part of the body. I never did ask her how she knew that, but I could guess given her storied past.

Silently, I counted the men as they passed. Without looking to Snowy, I reached out and placed one hand on her to hold her still. A few minutes after the leading group passed, another rider followed. This time their horse made only a whisper of sound. The hairs on my arm stood on end to watch a trained warhorse clop along while burdened with rider and gear, yet remain as silent at a whisper.

Tense, we remained still, holding our position for a few minutes more before I stopped watching the road. It was then that I noticed my hand had been resting on Snowy’s knee. Jerking my hand back, I flushed. I wasn’t a blushing virgin, and I was not unfamiliar with the female form. But, that meant little when you discover yourself intimately grasping someone you respect without realizing it. I would have blushed the same if it had been a man I had been holding tightly for almost twenty minutes. Maybe worse in fact.

Snowy seemed to find my embarrassment funny since she just smiled at my awkwardness, which took the sting out of my red face and cleared up any tension that might have developed.

Fumbling around in her overflowing pack, Snowy removed a blanket and draped it over herself then handed me a piece of jerky. Snowy letting me know she was planning to rest and would take first watch tonight to which I nodded and knawed on the meat. I pulled my knife and began to carve on a nearby stick to the sounds of gentle snoring. My training had been ignored of late, and we needed to wait until the next day anyway, half a day to practice my [Carving] would be time well spent. The woods around the road had fewer monsters, but as the beast from the meadow showed, it was by no means safe. We would have a cold and uncomfortable night, but it was the next day where we had to plan for what the city had in store for us.