Chapter 57 - The Humble Life of a Skill Trainer (Patreon)

My reaction was as instantaneous and instinctive as it was catastrophic. I willed the swirling maelstrom of liquid magic into a new [Alchemy] crystal as I thought of the thousands of hours I had spent producing potions and tinctures. The liquid surged forward and crashed into a nucleus of crystal. The foaming, churning liquid crystallized in a blaze of magic that grew brighter to my mana sight as the liquid concentrated into tangible magic shards. For a brief moment, I felt a surge of relief and happiness. My joy was short-lived as the magic grew brighter until the light surged, and the forming crystal shook, cracked, and with an explosion of power, shattered into a burst of crystals.

The explosion was painful; my very soul shook from the impact. The liquid and crystals raged within my soul but oddly never touched the other Skill crystals. Somehow I knew that what I was seeing was more a metaphor for my mind than a literal physical space. Even though what I perceived wasn’t a literal bubble of liquid magic filled with shards and crystals of Skills, the results were genuine. Vaguely, I could feel my body in the real world shake while sweat coated my form. Each impact inside my soul caused my body to spew what little food still remained inside me. Worse, before the aftermath of the explosion had fully calmed, I could taste blood and feel it dribbling from my nose. My connection to my body slowly faded, but not before I could hear a female voice screaming. Voices screamed for me, and the whisper of liquid coated my body.

I drifted inside my soul, slowly surveying the damage from the crystalline explosion. My mind felt adrift and disconnected, the effects of [Meditation] even more pronounced than before. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to care. Idly, I noticed that the last of the liquid had changed into a thick fog. Every crystal and every shard were slowly growing. Drifting through my soul, I gently touched the smallest sliver of crystal that was beginning to branch and spread.

Sharp - Tier 1: 2

Blades are less likely to dull in use.

Passive Effect:

Lesser: Protected Edge - The edge of blades are reinforced through your will.

It was barely a Skill. It was narrow, and somehow I knew that it would only work on small blades, nothing longer than a handspan. Odder still, I could feel how the Skill was the smallest part of alchemy and could protect a knife while preparing ingredients. Yet, it wasn’t only for [Alchemy]. The tiny sliver could fit and combine with [Woodworking], or [Carving], [Small Blades], or even [Backstab]. The fragment of crystal mirrored bits and pieces from other Skills that floated nearby, the more significant Skills drawn closer to the sliver from my attention. I knew things about my soul and the mana floating within it: I could see it, feel it, understand it, even if I couldn’t put words to this knowledge.

Before the thickened fog could thin, draining themselves into the crystals demanding growth, I reached out and held tight to the mana. Reaching outward, I froze the magical gas within me and locked it in position, the change halting at my command. Flexing my will, I directed the magic into the shard and forced it to grow and expand along a single axis. When the growth halted, the fog draining away to the same dribble that suffused from outside, I touched on the crystal’s new outgrowth.

Sharp - Tier 1: 23

Blades remain sharp despite repeated use.

Passive Effect:

Minor: Protected Edge - The edge of blades are reinforced through your will.

I could feel the difference even if the change was only Lesser to Minor. The Passive effect had nearly become an Active one with far more power. I could sense the difference - like a smell that somehow wafted across the nose and tongue, both flavor and taste but neither at the same time. The new Skill’s scope was nearly double the protection of the original. It was still focused in one direction, just as the crystal had only grown along one axis.

With a flex of will, the crystal shattered and returned to liquid. The now liquid mana expanded and rushed into the crystals, which grew with the burst of power. The walls of my soul shivered. In the back of my mind, I watched my body rock with the impact of my soul. More blood dripping from my nose as I recklessly rampaged within my fragile inner world. My inner sight dimmed, my mind growing fuzzy from the damage, and I slowly withdrew into the outer world.

Pain. Everything was pain.

The world blasted into my mind, and I tried to groan in agony, only to rasp through a dry throat. My eyes blinked and then crashed closed against the afterimage of white brilliance. I realized the blinding light was only thin beams passing through cracks in the wagon’s shutters. My choked back groan, forced through a throat long ignored, caused a rustling from nearby. Belatedly, I realized that the noise was Snowy crawling over the gap between bunks to stare at me. Her face broke into a brilliant smile when our eyes met, the worries and dark circles surrounding her eyes fading in a sudden rush of joy.

“Josh?” she asked as she leaned over me, one hand gently resting on my chest.

My dry cough in response had her scrambling for a wine flagon, and I fumbled as I reached for the lip, my hands barely offering the strength to grasp the container. Tipping the treated leather pouch, the sweetest water passed over my lips. It seemed to explode throughout my body. My body absorbed the liquid like a dry soil after a summer rain, the feeling passing over me in a near orgasmic wave. The gulps of life-giving liquid devolved into a sputtering cough as I lost control. Part of the liquid traveled into my lungs, the feeling stuttering through me as I tried to keep from vomiting the precious resource.

Collapsing backward, I forced myself to breathe deep while I let pass the tingle of long silent muscles now awakened.

Finally, I was able to lick my lips and meet Snowy's worried gaze.

“How long was I out?” I asked, knowing that more than an hour or even a few days had passed. The weakness and dehydration alone would account for multiple days.

“Nine days,” Snowy said.

I clenched my eyes tight as I tried to absorb how close things must have been, how much my experiment with magic had nearly cost me. If I’d played with my magic while alone, I would have died. I still might, depending on how bad the internal damage was. Coughing up blood was never a good sign and nothing to take lightly.

“I need a healing potion,” I said, while gently gesturing to the woodchip packed crate at the end of the bunk.

“We used them already. You were bleeding from everywhere. Even straight through your skin! We used the entire case,” Snowy said, her voice trying, but failing to hide how pitiful the sight must have been.

I stared at the ceiling and try to work through how many potions had been in the crate, but I couldn’t seem to focus well enough to remember the count. Distantly, I realized that the abuse of healing potions was why I was so tired. The healing came at the expense of my own body’s resources, leaving nothing for my own use.

“I figured it out. I know how the Mage’s do it,” I said, my eyes barely focusing and catching Snowy’s.

For a moment, the concern slipped away. The fear was replaced with anger but quickly faded. Reaching out, Snowy grasped my hand and gently stroked her rough fingers, hardened with hours of sword practice, across my hand. Raising my hand, she kissed the palm, then leaned in to kiss my brow, a sad smile replacing the fear.

“This is what you felt when I had to ride out to battle, isn’t it?” she asked, the question leaving me confused for a moment in my exhausted state.

I could feel sleep calling me, but I managed to bring my mind back to focus on Snowy. I knew that something she just said mattered, that it was vital, but I couldn’t force my mind to understand. Little clouds of thought floated through my mind as I drifted in and out of focus as black waves of exhaustion rolled over me. For a moment, I blinked, and Snowy was gone. Another blink and the wagon was stopped. The world was dark and silent while gentle kitten-like snores sounded out from Abby’s bunk. Part of my body screamed for food, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer the call.

When I next blinked, the wagon was well lit and rocking, the movement a comforting pattern that I had grown used to. For a second, I felt a distant question about what woke me, but the answer came from my stomach loudly grumbling for attention.

The noise woke Snowy from her rest. When she noticed that I was awake, she rolled over and grabbed a bowl filled with a cold porridge.

I tried to sit up to eat, but it was a failed attempt before my arms even moved. With a single gentle press of her hand, Snowy held me down and turned her focus to the spoon to scoop out the congealed food. I was barely able to thank her before she was shoving the wooden spoon passed my lips.

While I slowly chewed the gummy and tasteless mess, trying to avoid her gaze, she stared at me with a carefully neutral look.

“You need to experiment with Skills and train. I get it. I need to do my own training and fighting,” Snowy said after shoving another spoonful into my mouth, the timing conveniently leaving me unable to respond.

“I’m not going to ask you to stop. But could you wait until you recover? Maybe let us know before you experiment, so the caravan isn’t woken by the sounds of your apprentice screaming?” Snowy asked, her voice going hard at the end.

I wanted to sullenly respond, but the wooden spoon covered by gluey porridge halted my childish response - and it was childish. Once I had worked past my initial reaction to the rebuke, I could only nod. When I thought of Abby discovering my body sweating blood and shivering in pain, I could only shudder. If I had found someone like that, I would have been horrified. Waking to that nightmare would have been worse. I owed both of them an apology, and I needed to change my behavior.

Seeing the regret in my eyes, Snowy simply nodded and continued to feed me.