The Humble Life of a Skill Trainer

We retreated into the fortress, and my curiosity was piqued that I lost track of Mason repeatedly. His Skill was clearly a mental effect. My new training goal was to keep [Meditation] active non-stop. Even with my Skill focusing my mind, the Grandmaster continually drifted away from my perceptions. Without [Meditation], I would have no chance of keeping track of him.

The Baron’s Seneschal, a fussy man with an obsession to detail that helped him in his position, cleared out an old storage area so that I had a workroom. The room was empty except for a work table and chairs, but the place was still haunted by dust and the faint smell of dried fish. Despite the insult implied by the smelly room, it was a useful addition that I failed to consider. I was used to working from my alchemy shop, which provided the privacy needed when discussing Skills.

I was surprised to see Snowy waiting in my ‘office’ as I walked in. The moment of distraction caused Mason to completely slip from my mind. His sudden reappearance made me start in surprise when he stopped using his stealth Skill. I wasn’t the only one, Snowy was startled as well.

Chuckling, Mason said, “You know, I used to find that funny when I was a kid,” then he dropped his smile.

Ignoring Mason, I turned to Snowy, “Hey Snowy, did you need something?” I said with a smile.

If I had a choice between Snowy and Mason, I would help Snowy first. Mason’s Skill was getting on my nerves. His ability to work around my [Meditation], drifting out of my mind like a ghost, was frustrating. It was a reminder that even though I had more Skills, I would never be as skilled as someone who focused on a single profession.

Snowy smiled at my question while sitting in one of the chairs, then gestured to Mason.

As I found a chair myself, I studied Mason as he coughed into his hand.

“So, uh, Baron Verstrom requested that I provide specialized weapon training for Alexis,” Mason said before he stopped talking and looked away from both of us.

In the awkward silence, I raised an eyebrow at Snowy, who shook her head at me as we watched Mason.

“So, I’m not changing our deal. I still want a protege, my [Throwing] should be passed on. But, I’ve got other Skills, and the Baron hired me to teach Alexis.” Mason said before flopping his thin body against the wall facing us.

Snowy seemed to be willing to let me take the lead in the conversation, an oddity in my experience with nobles. Which was the moment that I realized, viscerally, that I was now a noble, even if a low ranking one. It was a bit surreal to realize that I likely had more practical knowledge about what that meant than Snowy did. I might be lower in station than her, but she had lived in what the kingdom would consider a land of barbarians. I would have to remind the Baron’s Seneschal to provide Snowy an etiquette teacher to go along with her training to be Baroness.

I spent a moment noticing the weirdness of [Meditation] in conversations. Two oddities drew my attention. The first was that my propensity to drift into introspection was growing worse. The extra time gained from my accelerated perception was taken up by thinking about anything and everything that my mind drifted into. This was something that I would need to rein in. The second was that I had no problem speaking or understanding speech while in my slowed world. It was odd that at first, there was some distortion, but I quickly adjusted.

Focusing my mind on the current conversation felt like wrenching a wild horse onto a new trail. I was worried that thinking too long about being able to listen and speak in my accelerated world would suddenly leave me struck deaf and mute.

“Mason, what did you want to talk about?” I asked.

My brisk manner seemed to annoy the old man, but I couldn’t tell if it was my words or that I pointed out that he was avoiding something.

“I need someone to help train Alexis, my Skills make it unsafe to train her by myself,” Mason said while he fiddled with the leather on his forearms.

While Snowy and I shared a confused look, Mason drew metal support rods from the inside of his leather bracers.

“Watch,” Mason said before striking the wall with the metal rods.

To our surprise, Mason’s strike left a long line through the stone, the cut nearly a finger-width wide and three feet long.

“I’ve got multiple passive bonuses to cutting and sharpness. While the peasants might not know about overlapping skills, the military elites and nobles definitely do. I’m not a Skill Trainer, I ain’t got so many Skills as you, but I can cut things. If I tried to train Alexis hands-on, a slip would cost her a limb if we were lucky,” Mason said as he gently tossed the dull metal rod to Snowy.

While Snowy stared agog at the dull metal that the Grandmaster used to cleave through solid stone, I stared at the wall and tried to work through which skills he used. I could guess [Small Blades], maybe an evolved [Throwing] skill helped, maybe not. Definitely something like [Cooking] or [Campfire Cooking], according to my father, almost all soldiers pick that one up. There had to be a hundred other possibilities, though, both combat-related and not. [Butchering], [Skinning], even a modified [Backstab] or [Sneak Attack] was possible. I knew many of the profession-related Skills and their evolutions, but I was fuzzier on the combat-related skills. Nobles and merchants usually paid us to solve Skill related problems or when they wanted to gain a Skill from a profession without the related Guild knowing they had them. If it came to combat, they usually just hired a mercenary or weapon master to help them there.

“Well?” Mason said with a grumpy look.

“I’m willing, but that means you’re going to have to train me as well. We can call that payment for my assistance. I also need to keep up with training the guards. Just because I’m helping you with Snowy’s training, doesn’t mean the Baron will forgive me for not doing my job.”

Waving away that concern, Mason caught the rod that Snowy tossed back to him, the movement as casual as grabbing a fork from a table.

“How are you going to pay me then?” Snowy asked, her smile making it clear she was joking.

Scoffing at the comment, I said, “Pay you? You should pay me! There is no way I’m going to make it through combat training with you without being injured.”

To my confusion, Snowy’s face turned a deep red at my comment.

“Well then, I’ll be back to my rounds,” Mason said.

“Rounds?” I said, ignoring whatever was causing Snowy’s embarrassment.

Mason frowned at my question, “I don’t like spying, but I’m the best for it now. Someone told about yah. Someone stole the scroll,” he said while flicking his points off on his fingers, “other stuff as well. Assassins, instead of poison, could be the next step.”

Mason moved toward the door but stopped suddenly. I stood to follow him, but his sudden stop brought me up short as well. I avoided running into him, but it was a close one. I wasn’t eager to be alone with Snowy. Now that I wasn’t stuck in my head thinking about my job, I was very aware that I shouldn’t be alone with the future Baroness. Rumors about Snowy could be as harmful to her future as they could be to my own. Now that I was outed and working for the Baron publicly, I had to be a bit more circumspect about my actions.

“Just to let you know, the Baron’s had to deal with a few Guild representatives trying to run you out. The stuck up pricks have complained, but that’s about it. Most of them have been trying to push the Baron for stuff ’cause of you, ‘stead of trying to get you thrown out. Nothing from the Mages. Lucky for you, the Baron’s mage don’t give a shit about the Guild,” Mason said before slipping away.

Standing in the doorway, I looked to Snowy.

“The Baron’s mage?” I asked, leaving the question open-ended.

Snowy passed me into the hallway and spoke before walking away, “I’ve never met him. but I’ve heard he is mostly retired and is only interested in his research.”

Walking back to the mustering hall, I tried to work out if there were any other dangers I had to keep in mind. I wasn’t worried about an attack from the Mage Guild. With the Baron publicly supporting me, their typical methods wouldn’t work. Fireballs in the middle of the night were no longer a problem. It was one thing to attack a random Skill trainer, another thing entirely to attack a Baron’s official Skill trainer. It would be open war if they attacked a noble, even a low ranking noble. The nobles were very aware of their privileges. They would strike back against the Mage Guild for attacking a noble, even if they didn’t care about me in the slightest.

As long as they didn’t find out about [Meditation], I should be relatively safe. Even that was based on my assumption over why the Mages were so hell-bent against the Skill Trainers. It could be something else entirely instead of the secret of magical mental Skills. I didn’t think so, but it was possible.

I did make a mental note to avoid the Baron’s mage all the same.

Once I was back in the mustering hall, I approached Sergeant Baker and the five mostly naked, shivering men. I tapped the Sergeant on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Sergeant, I’d like to talk to the men individually to see what kind of training I can provide for them. I’m fine with the men using the resistance box as they need, but I’d like to do more for them if they will be seeing combat next season. Who would you like me to work with first?” I asked while trying to remain focused.

The cheering and general feeling of enjoyment coming from the competing men kept trying to draw my attention away from the Sergeant. It was challenging to spend subjective minutes staring at the Sergeant as I waited for his response. Doubly so while exciting things happened behind him. This was the part that I disliked about learning a new Skill or Skill evolution. The little details and oddities of a Skill which pop up. To be fair, it was also one of the things which fascinated me about Skills as well. I would never have considered that Mason had so many passive bonuses to sharpness and cutting that even a blunt bit of metal could be lethal.

Slapping one of the men who was dressing on the shoulder, the Sergeant turned to me, “Why not start with our new recruit here, Private Baker.”

Private Baker? Interesting. It looked like the Captain wasn’t the only one that was getting jobs for their family members.

“Alright, Baker, follow me,” I said as I made an about-face toward my fishy office.