Gifted

The days following my injury passed in a flurry of activity. The outpost was the busiest it had been in the past three years. Normally we only ever had one group, be it Adventurers or Traders, staying with us at a time. While in retrospect I could see how the traffic had been growing over the last couple of years, this was the first time that we were hosting groups simultaneously.

Of the groups that were sitting in our common room, the first was a team of three adventurers from the Farwalkers Guild. One human man and two women made up their group, and they were apparently on a task to hunt some beasts north of us. What beasts, they didn’t say.

Besides the adventurers, there were two groups of traders taking a break before beginning the next leg of their journey. One was going east, having come from Helenica and now making their way to Ajinport. The members of that trading company were completely made up of humans with a handful of guards protecting four wagons. From what I could tell the lead trader was an older gentleman and the younger was his son. They had two wagoneers as well which rounded their numbers out to a group of almost a dozen dusty men and women who were occupying two of our tables and enjoying my mother’s stew and some ale from the larder.

The second trading group was going west, headed for Helenica with their first stop beyond the Horndales to be made in Drevorn. I knew that because the lead trader, a gruff old woman that looked like she chewed leather for breakfast, had been asking the Helenian traders about the road ahead. Her wagon train was smaller with only two, though they were notably bigger contraptions and pulled by comparably bigger horses.

What really caught my attention though was one of the guards of the second train that chose to sit at a table alone. He was a beastkin. I admit I’d had some preconceptions about what beastkin might look like from my first life. Faint memories had surfaced of shows with animal eared women. Not that I had watched them, or at least if I had, I didn’t remember doing so. But still, those faint memories had influenced my expectations.

The man before me was not like those mental images. He was clearly wolfkin, with a wolf’s face atop a humanoid body and covered in grey-blue fur from head to toe. If I was to describe him to someone having never seen a wolfkin I would’ve called him a werewolf, only he was shorter than the average human rather than taller. That height disparity didn’t seem to be an issue for him though as I watched every other human guard’s wariness around the wolfkin. I also noticed how the claws on his right hand had been filed down, likely to make it easier to grasp the sword on his hip, while his left hand still sported razor sharp claws that look like they had been shaped to be even sharper than was natural.

My fascination with the wolfkin did not go unnoticed and occasionally I would catch him glancing at me. Something about the wolfkin just oozed danger and that sparked a sliver of fear within me. I hated it. Hated that feeling with every fibre of my being. So, refusing to be a slave to my fears or let them take root in my psyche after the crows attack, I instead chose to face them.

Walking over to the table the wolfkin was seated at, I pulled myself up into the chair across from him before climbing up onto the table. Others had noted my approach but no one chose to interfere as I sat down on the table. The wolfkin was dressed in a dark grey leather vest that covered his chest but left his arms free and unencumbered. Beneath the table he was wearing loose pants of the same material that for the most part hid the fact that he wasn’t wearing any boots.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hello little child,” replied the wolfkin, his voice deep and smoother than I had expected. If I was being honest, I had thought it would have more of a growl to it.

“I’m Bastian,” I offered, trying to play into the fearless child persona I was putting on.

“Hello Bastian, I’m Nazim.”

His response didn’t sound aggressive so I decided to just come out swinging and hope my childish ignorance would save me from any rebuke.

“Are you wolfkin, Nazim?”

“I am. Have you never seen a wolfkin before?” he asked, leaning forward curiously.

I shook my head vigorously. “Mum says beastkin don’t come through our mountains because they use the southern pass to make House Fenrith like them!”

Nazim looked away and growled. I froze like a deer in headlights thinking I had overplayed my hand. Instead, Nazim slumped, glancing back at me with eyes tinged with defeat.

“Your mum is mostly right. Most beastkin either use the southern pass, or those with a little more coin take the sea route from Ajinport. But I am barred from House Fenrith lands and can find no work in Ajinport. Do you know what this word means? Barred?”

I shrugged casually like I couldn’t read the expression on his face, my Path of Deception ticking up in the background.

“Means…can’t go there?”

“It does. So, I go west to try my fortunes in Meravia.”

“That’s the country Helenica is in!” I said excitedly, continuing my act.

Nazim snorted. It sounded louder coming out of a snout instead of a nose. “It is. Your mother teaches you?”

I nodded vigorously. “She does! Lots of things!”

“Did she give you those scars?” Nazim asked far too casually.

I blinked in surprise. The pain had faded from my wounds but it was easy to forget the marks they had left on me if I wasn’t thinking about it.

I looked down and shook my head in response.

“Was it someone else?” pressed the wolfkin.

I shook my head again and whispered my answer. “It was a bird. Attacked me.”

Nazim looked curious. “An eagle?”

“Crow,” I muttered.

“Must have been a big one,” Nazim commented. “What happened to it? The Factor for this outpost deal with it?”

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“I hit it with a rock till it stopped.”

Nazim watched me for a few seconds after my answer, his yellow-eyed gaze boring into me before he smiled. If I was being honest, it looked more vicious than friendly, but maybe that was just his face.

“Little warrior, huh? You’d fit in well with us wolfkin.”

I assumed it was a compliment and offered a shy smile in response.

Silence stretched between us to the point it became awkward and I debated leaving the room, but there was one thing I was curious about. One day my curiosity was going to get me in trouble. Hopefully it wasn’t today.

“Why doesn’t House Fenrith like you?” I asked. “You seem nice to me.”

Nazim looked at me intently before looking away. “I won a battle that I was meant to lose.”

After his response he stood slowly, his movements languid in the way I was beginning to associate with experienced warriors.

“It was nice to meet you, Bastian,” he muttered before heading for the door. I heard him tell the merchant he was working with that he was taking a walk.

I climbed down from the table and went looking for my mother afterwards but my request to go out back and train on my obstacle course was summarily denied. She just couldn’t spare the time to come watch me since she was cooking for so many, and she wouldn’t let me outside without hovering over me like a hawk. I winced at that simile and decided to use something else in the future. Instead, I went upstairs to my room and tried to do some training.

The next month passed quietly, falling into a new routine. Magatha visited once a week to drop off a tonic to help erase my scars. Apparently the potion had to be taken shortly after being brewed or it would lose its efficacy. Something I never thought I would be doing was tracking potion shelf-lifes in a fantasy world, but here we were.

Funnily enough, after my many complaints about the Minor Healing potions flavour, the Minor Scar Rejuvenation potion tasted like berries. It was sweet enough that I would’ve happily poured it over pancakes. Mother refused to let me though and instead I had to drink it in its entirety. Grandpa was clearly paying for the potions and I saw a fiery red aether coin exchanged each time. I was unreasonably annoyed about seeing the coins disappear just to restore my appearance, since every one spent on the potions was one less to pay for tutors for me.

After the first month the scars had faded from red to shiny silver, but if the potions were working to erase them I couldn’t tell.

Mother continued to hover close to me whenever I went outside. I didn’t know if she still blamed herself for what happened to me. She shouldn’t, as far as I was concerned. The fault lay entirely with that bloody bird and it was long dead. Grandpa had retained one of its legs, cut off and dried up, resting on a shelf in his office. The talons had looked longer and more wicked than even I had expected. Perhaps that is just how crows were in this world? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care enough at the moment. All I wanted was to work on my Paths and see my numbers go up.

Sitting up in bed as the sun peaked through the window and the crisp air prickled my skin, I reviewed the results of my hard work. My gains were self-evident as I went through the notifications and brought up my Status.

You have advanced the Tier of your Path! Path of Aethersensing V (269/250)

Reward: 1 Aether

You have advanced the Tier of your Path! Path of Body Strengthening VII (1027/1000)

Reward: 1 Strength

Name - Sebastian

Skills (1/3)

Class - Locked

Muffled Steps (Minor) - 16

Basic Attributes

Body Features

Strength - 117

Aether Core - Minor

Stamina - 126

Aether Channels - Weak

Coordination - 131

Mental - 152

Affinity (1/1)

Aether - 105

Shadow (Strong) - 100

Advanced Attributes (1/2)

Completed Paths

Talented - 141

Path of Basic Numeracy X

Path of Linguistics - English X

Paths (10/10)

Path of Endurance X

Path of Exceptionalism I (70/100)

Path of Willpower X

Path of Running VIII (2759/5000)

Path of Eavesdropping X

Path of Balance VII (1264/2500)

Path of Linguistics - Helenian X

Path of Body Strengthening VII (1027/2500)

Path of Crawling X

Path of Aethersensing V (269/500)

Path of Sneaking X

Path of Stealth IV (941/1000)

Path of Hiding X

Path of Deception VIII (3132/5000)

Path of Walking X

Path of Climbing IX (8632/10000)

Path of Coordination VI

Path of the Completionist II (108/200)

Path of Soulstealing (2/10)

My Muffled Steps Skill had gained another two points in it, but it was slow going still due to my limited aether reserves. I was hoping that continuing to improve my Aether Stat might help but it was too early to tell if it was having much of an impact. What was more interesting to me was how close I was getting to completing the Path of Stealth. I knew Advanced Paths only had five tiers and I was more than ninety percent of the way there thanks to my strong Affinity for Shadow.

Happy with my trajectory, I resolved that today was the day I would pressure grandpa about my tutoring because soon I would have two free Path slots available.

Coming downstairs, I found the old man eating an early breakfast, along with my mother who looked dressed for a day of hard work. Normally, if she was working inside she wore lighter clothes, but today she was in some tough woolen clothes dyed a dark brown that I maintained was intentional to hide the dirt stains.

“Ah, you’re up,” Cornelius said around a mouthful of egg.

Before he could continue, the back door burst open and Etta charged in, two brown pigtails flying behind her with her father, George, following in her wake.

“Bastian! Bastian! I’m going to be living next door!” Etta shouted.