The Humble Life of a Skill Trainer

Staring ahead, I tried to count my heartbeat and breath: in, one, two, three, out, one, two, three. It wasn't just that I was nervous. It was that I was doing everything possible to hide the excitement and nervousness both. Across from me, the Baron was relaxing in an overstuffed chair, his belly pressing further against his finely cut clothes than he likely wished. He was still a strong and large man, but it was clearer every day that drink and stress took their toll on him.

Subtly checking the overcoat and fine silk tunic I was wearing, I tugged gently on the sleeves to be sure the fold sat correctly along my wrist. I was happy that any meeting with the King was to be taken in formal attire. I wouldn't be held hostage to the single sleeve outfits that were the current favored party style. Still, I was waiting to meet the King. I felt half afraid and half giddy, like a lady waiting for her favorite minstrel to perform. The Royal authority had waned in recent generations and the Kingdom's power with it. But he was still from a long line of Nobles, each empowered through unique and powerful Skills. The Baron had won his nobility and land by coming to the rescue of the young King. Still, the King had managed to dispatch more than a hundred men in that battle before the Baron's mercenaries reinforced his position.

"Everything will be fine, boy, you'll see," the Baron said, his tone making clear how entertaining he found my barely concealed agitation.

Raising a single eyebrow at the man, I glanced at the thick, iron-studded doors which guarded the King's private study.

"Yeah, he can hear us, but it's fine. Everything will be fine. We aren't here in chains, are we?" Before I could comment to the Baron's rhetorical question, he continued, "See? Everything is fine!" the noble said with a wide smile.

It was odd to me how quickly the Baron had relaxed as we arrived at the palace. He seemed far more confident than usual. But then, he could expect the best guards in the Kingdom to be protecting the King, and by extension - us. There was little chance of a Mage assassin entering these halls. They had been enchanted and reinforced generations ago. Even now, I could see subtle lines of mana running through the structure of stone and timber, the materials glowing to my mana sight.

I shifted forward in my seat. Before I could respond to the Baron, a guard decked in enchanted armor opened the imposing iron-wrapped door and silently gestured us through.

The guard walked us down a narrow stone hallway, obviously designed with defense in mind, and then gestured us toward the door set into the side of the hall. The guard thumped his gauntlet against a prominent tiled rune on the side of the hall, and a loud clang came from within the room, followed by a shouted "Enter!"

The Baron never paused as he passed the guard, pulling open the door and striding into the well-decked office. Thick rugs, an unlit hearth, bookshelves lined with thick leather books, and a massive oaken table polished and shining sat in the middle, splitting the room nearly in two. Behind the desk was the King. Rising from behind his desk, he gestured both of us to chairs set back from the desk. When we took our seats, the King dropped casually into his own. The King's tall, lean body seemed to capture the air in the room as a charismatic force leaked out of him. A primal sense of control and power pervaded the air around him. His overcoat was draped casually over the bookcase ladder leaning near the corner of the room leaving bare his muscles that corded and bulged across the tight expanse of his shirt. Smiling at my confused fascination, the King glanced at the Baron. The slightly pointed tip of his ear - a Royal sign of Skills worked into his very heredity - poked through the long, braided, blond hair that was pulled back behind him. The style emphasized his large, multi-ringed, eyes and sharp, aristocratic, jawline.

Even with [Meditation] screaming in my ears, I couldn't help but smile at the man, wanting to stand beside him in combat. Blinking sharply, I finally managed to pull myself from my fascination. However, I noticed that even then, I found him oddly attractive and appealing.

The King had been waiting, his gaze focused on my own, only blinking when I managed to pull myself out of my stupor.

"Good. The Skill Trainers have made it clear that you are a favorite of theirs. I was worried that your exploits were luck or that you were too narrow in your focus. If you can shake off my fascination, then they were likely right as to your capabilities," the King said, before turning his eyes back to the Baron.

His words had been dismissive, but I was still reeling at the revelation. The Skill Trainers were in contact with and working with the King. It made sense. The King was likely working with any faction or person who would provide him more power and control. The Skill Trainers were an obvious group to approach. Secretive, capable, with access to odd Skills, and currently at odds with the Mages - The Skill Trainers were a natural ally.

While I recovered from the obvious-in-retrospect discovery, the King surprised the Baron in turn.

"I've spoken to Fordson through a Charm of Long Speaking," the King said. For a moment, I was confused as to the name Fordson until I remembered that was the name of the Baron's personal Mage. In my mind, he was still 'the Baron's Mage,' or 'that asshole who tried to have me killed.'

"I've long known that he had been under a soul binding to keep the Mage Guild's secrets. We have had no success with the newer binding. The apprentice binding and soul oaths result in death when broken. Even under torture, they have died before they could do more than decide to break their oaths," the King said.

The King leaned forward slightly as he spoke, his charming smile still somehow seeming dark at that moment.

"But Fordson's binding is of the older sort, and his refusal to take the newer binding is what cost him his place on the council. His oath only precludes him from taking an apprentice without approval and sharing the Guild's greatest secret. If we already know the secret, he can speak on it. Which is why they wished to rebind him," the King said.

Nodding, the Baron spoke into the silence, neither man looking at me.

"There were moments where he made it clear he was unable to provide information. I knew that it was a risk that his oath would silence him or force him to act against me," the Baron said, though he then snarled as he nodded toward me, "though, it wasn't only an oath that forced him to try and kill this one. He admitted that he was trying to keep his communication lines open with his friends in the Guild. I had words with him over that."

Which left me annoyed again at the Mage.

Butting into the conversation high above my social rank, I asked, "So, what did he finally tell us that he couldn't before?"

Frowning for a moment at my interruption, the King raised an eyebrow at the Baron then turned to address me directly.

"Once a Mage dies, their soul fractures and solidifies. They can no longer grow their Skills or their soul, nor change their Skills. They are frozen in the moment of their death and rebirth," the King said.

Biting my lip, I considered what that would mean for a Mage's Skill selection. They would never remove their mental Skill nor their healing passive. To do so would be to trap themselves in a rotting body or to become an aberrant undead without a mind. A fate that was worse than undeath, unlike any other. Better to be consumed by the flame than to be reduced to that.

"As well, active effects are even more of a drain once they die," the King said, drawing me back to the conversation.

Now that was interesting. Once I knew about the Mages becoming undead, I had realized what my mind had been trying so hard to tell me about the magic flowing into the Mages. Fordson had looked like the undead horde of soldiers when he cast his spell, infusing the Baron's soldiers with magical power. Some of the Mages appeared normal, while others looked like a rushing river of mana flowing through their bodies. Those using powerful Active Effect Skills seemed like undead Mages only using passive Skills. It made sense that the combination would put a tremendous strain on their magic to both use an active Skill and sustain their undead existence.

I would have to watch for living Mages throwing fire, though I wouldn't ignore the possibility of one of the undead doing it as well.

"While this was something I wished to share with you, it is the other betrayal the Mages have been a part of that I wished to discuss," the King said. The King folded his hands on his desk, and his large eyes flashed between us, his gaze locking on my own for a moment to be sure I was invested in the conversation.

"The Northmen assault was perfectly timed to take advantage of the war and force concessions from me," the King began, then paused to nod at the Baron, "from us, at the time."

"I have long assumed that this came from the shamans and their ancestors. Our history is filled with the Northmen resisting my Kingdom's encroachment by appealing to their ancestor spirits' advice. My spies discovered shortly after the treaty that it was more. The Mage Guild has been harvesting ingredients for Noble's Bane from the north for nearly half a century now," the King said.

"Blood-of-the-Mountain-Cat became a defacto King of the North once Ashen-Arm-of-the-Mountain threw his support behind him. He has conquered or silenced many other tribes and has begun work expanding the Mountain tribe's ancestral home. Fifteen years ago, the Blood and Mountain tribes joined. Still, his sudden rise in power has only expanded with his recent acquisition of enchanted weapons," the King said, his eyes boring into the Baron.

"My daughter's sword," the Baron said.

Nodding, the King continued, "One of many. Ashen-Arm-of-the-Mountain suddenly learned enchanting when he was once only known for his smithing and ferocity on the field of battle. The Mages have trained him and likely provided tools and resources as well. Your daughter's weapon was likely an early test, a custom weapon designed to cripple her progress. Her relation to you was likely why she was chosen. It also diverted my spies. We had no clue that Ashen-Arm-of-the-Mountain made it personally until recently. We thought it was a worthless weapon foisted off on her to hide Blood-of-the-Mountain-Cat's shame at buying a defective weapon."

I couldn't keep silent. The Baron seemed willing to simply accept whatever the King was willing to share. I was not.

"Do you know why Alexis was targeted or why her mother failed to intervene?" I asked.

The Baron was forced to hide his grin at my audacity in interrupting the King yet again.

"My spies have failed to discover why Alexis was targeted. We have only rumors of jealousy and unrequited love, which does not explain the extent of the efforts or why the ancestors were willing to allow it. As for her mother: shamans always act with the will of their ancestors."

I could tell the King was leaving things unsaid, conclusions, and information he wouldn't share with me, someone so untried and untrusted. Left unspoken was the danger of the Northmen fighting with the Mages in a rebellion against the King. They had marched against the Kingdom once before, and they could do it yet again.

I was left out of most of the rest of the discussion with the Baron. The meeting devolved into a discussion of the Baron's taxes, mining, and interesting Skilled individuals. It had been evident to me from the beginning that this meeting had been less about the King providing information to me and the Baron and was more about him determining who I was and how he could use me. Which was fair. I must have seemed like a loosed arrow fired into the middle of his plans and plots. I was sure the King had taken my measure. He knew that I was generally a Royalist but not beholden to the Kingdom or its institutions. I was tied to Snowy, the Skill Trainers, the Baron, and principally in that order.

While the pair talked, I drifted in thought, only partially listening to the details. Before the King's summons, the day's plan had been to work on my Skills. In truth, the disruption of my plans likely was better for me. I would spend today and tonight recovering from my recent heavy use of [Meditation] and be prepared for the Duke's ball tomorrow night. I was interested in meeting Ashen-Arm-of-the-Mountain as well as Snowy's mother.