The Humble Life of a Skill Trainer

Thumping my head backward on the wall of the carriage, I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear the grit away.

“Still nothing, hmm?” Snowy asked, her tone sharper than I expected.

Drumming the back of my head against the wall a few times to release my annoyance, I looked to Snowy.

She had a small wooden platform mounted on the inside of the wall. The board extending across the middle of the carriage to act as a table. Her papers were stacked around her. Clenched in one white-knuckled grip was her ink pen, and she was almost slicing her writing across the page as she referenced one of her father’s journals.

Her shoulders were hunched over, her body tight and uncomfortable, her manner annoyed and sharp, and the few times she glanced at me, it was with a put upon look.

I’d spent the last week and a half focusing on my [Meditation], or at least, trying to. Thinking back on it, the entire trip back had consisted of me either working on [Meditation] or discussing [Meditation] with an ever more annoyed Snowy. I hadn’t even considered how rude it was to commandeer her carriage so I could practice. The thought never entered my mind. I could be a bit obsessive - my mother often said excessively so - when it came to my interests, but this was worse than usual.

Sighing, I ran my hands through my hair, the sudden scent from my unwashed clothes quickly making me drop my arms. We had stopped to clean as we passed nearby streams or wells, but it had been a rare thing. Our trip back was significantly faster than out. The men were pushed at a quick walk during the day only to collapse into sleep without training or lectures at night. We even broke camp earlier and setup later to extend the walking time. The only ones who hadn’t been pushed hard during our travels had been the two of us.

“Snowy, what do you say we camp early today and get in some sword training?” I asked with a guilty grin.

Carefully, Snowy put her pen into her inkwell that was held by an ingenious nook on the carriage. Blowing lightly on her papers, she folded them up and tucked them into a leather folio held closed by a thin string. Once her desk area was organized and clear, she turned to face me. The slow, methodical cleanup made it clear that I was currently in trouble with the tall woman.

“Did you not hear the Sergeant this morning?” she asked. The question an obvious but unavoidable trap.

With a blank look, all I could do was mutter a confused, “Um?”

“We will be back to the castle late-afternoon. My father has guests, and he wants you to be available as he needs to discuss something with you. I’m sure I mentioned that he had guests, and we would be dining with him,” Alexis said, the polite look in no way hiding her annoyance with me.

Pinching the bridge of my nose for a moment, I then began to rub my face vigorously with my hands, the movement hurting but not so much that I was willing to stop. Dropping my hands into my lap, I faced Snowy directly. I held her eyes, trying to convey my apology while I firmly held [Acting] disabled.

“I’m sorry, Lady Alexis. I…well…I tend to become focused when it comes to my work. I didn’t mean to neglect you, and I owe you an apology for my inattention,” I said. I was trying to will the honest emotion into my voice so that Alexis could hear it.

I must have been successful since her severe look faded away before she threw up another mask. Still, she was unable to hold it entirely.

“Yes. Well. It’s alright. I can be the same way when it comes to my training. Spending hours repeating the same movements, even practicing the moves in my mind until I fell asleep,” Snowy said while seeming to be lost in memory. Then she turned back to me with a small smile, “It was even cute at first. Still, somewhere around the end of the week, it became less so.”

I couldn’t help but let my eyebrows climb my head at the last part. She thought my obsessive focused behavior was cute? That was a new one. Especially so, the time frame. Finding it cute for that long meant that she was likely far less annoyed with me than she was putting on. That didn’t mean I would continue to abuse her goodwill by returning to my boorish behavior. Even if I was still annoyed by my inability to increase my [Meditation] Skill again. I had managed to reach that odd internal space where I could see the crystalized structures and the bubble of mana that somehow fit inside my mind. But the massive growth that I had experienced was beyond me. Worse, I felt like there was little chance of any of my Skills improving either. Some new inner sense told me that I was drained, and growth would be almost impossible.

Shaking my head, I returned to the gentle conversation with Snowy. As we continued to move along the country road, my momentary inattention was noticed but excused if the upturned corner of her mouth was any indication. The rest of the day was oddly pleasant. We discussed our interests, while tacitly avoiding a discussion of Skills. The closest we came to discussing Skills was when Snowy told me of her enjoyment of sewing and cooking. Those were two things I had, unfortunately, avoided learning as a child since they were “women’s work”. Now that I was older and knew better, it was one more thing I had to add to my training list.

Snowy was fun and easy to talk with, our conversations roaming over my training as a kid, her practice, and the general way we grew up. Snowy smiled as she recalled the many days she would spend in the forest, far from the rest of her tribe. At the same time, she gathered plants for her mother, camped while patrolling, and she even described the fun she managed while training for days on end with her sword. There was some bitterness at times hiding in her voice, but mostly she remembered it fondly. She hadn’t been abused or harassed as I assumed, she had mostly been ignored and passed over while others were given praise and assistance. It was a case of neglect more than abuse. She was still angry, and I could tell she wanted revenge for the sabotage of her training, but it was a tempered feeling and, in some ways, more frightening because of it.

For me, I explained how I was bounced between trainers while my parents would leave for months to work different jobs. How they would give me tasks and goals to work toward and then leave me to complete or fail them on my own. There were times where my parents had no jobs lined up. They would focus their all on my personal training or with games and entertainment, usually things that combined together to be all three. We lived in the woods, near a small town, the name carefully not mentioned, so I could take a short trip to purchase tools or restock food. Mostly though, I grew up alone or with trainers, often taciturn men and women who had made a life around a Skill and had few cares for anything but their training.

I was feeling a bit maudlin when our discussion ended. We pulled through the gates into the city, the outgoing traffic moving to the side to allow our troop through. Staring out the carriage, I let the smell of the city invade my nose. The subtle stench of humanity too close together and without adequate airflow was hard to adapt to after the fresh country air. Though, the smell meant people and movement and was better to me than the silence of the forest.

The stop at the gate was quick. The carriage and Alexis were identification enough to expedite entrance. Still, I noticed extra security guards watching from small temporary buildings stationed on side streets. The feel of the city had subtly changed during our absence. Even in the short ride to the castle, we could see more patrols than was usual. When we crossed the bridge to the castle, the carriage was quickly searched from top to bottom before it was taken away to the stables. Hauling around a bag full of papers, her armor, and supplies being offloaded by pages, Snowy gestured me to follow as she marched through the castle.

The castle, too, was changed. Guards were posted at more of the intersections, their gear shining and sharp - obviously recently repaired. I tried to slip away to my office, but Snowy directed me to continue to follow her. Moving into the wing reserved for her family, Snowy shooed away the ladies in waiting and asked me to wait for her in her antechamber. Uncomfortably, I sat and sipped the tea the maids prepared for me, the few titters at my embarrassment carefully ignored. Theoretically, I knew all the customs of the nobles and what waiting in her ante-room meant. She was saying that I was going to be her escort to a late meal with her father, and this was a sign of her favor. The fact that I hadn’t been allowed to rush out to wash and change and so would show up dusty from the trail, and stinking of my own sweat implied Snowy was still slightly miffed at me.

Alexis stepped from her inner rooms, smelling gently of vanilla. Her hair was carefully combed and braided, and she wore a flowing expensive dress that somehow made her seem delicate. The contrast stated clearly that my inattention had annoyed her more than she had said. Internally I gritted my teeth and decided to allow the payback. I had, in fact, earned it.

Standing, I bowed low.

“Lady Alexis, you look ravishing. May I have the honor of escorting you to the late meal with your father?” I asked, my voice controlled by [Acting] to match the deeper tones I once remember hearing a nobleman use with his wife.

Raising my eyes, I was surprised to see a blush that was more than face paint grace Snowy’s cheeks. Her lighter skin clearly showed her emotion, but she rallied and smiled.

“That would be lovely, thank you,” she said as she held one hand out to me to direct her.

Grasping her hand, I was surprised to realize that while she was tall and strong, her hands were small and delicate, though the callouses said she was used to hard work. Idly, I made a mental note to check to see if the handle on her greatsword had been forged with larger hands in mind as well.

With small mincing steps, the dress not allowing her the full range of motion she was used too, Snowy and I walked to her father’s study. Snowy subtly directed me as we walked with gentle tugs on my hand. I had assumed the meeting would happen in a small dining room. These guests were apparently going to receive an even more private and personable a conference than I imagined. It wasn’t until now that I thought to question why I would be a part of this meeting. Something of my wariness must have been transmitted to Snowy. My gentle grip on her hand became her iron-like grasp on my own instead.

My sudden concern came too late as we were at the Baron’s study. Snowy threw open the door and almost pulled me in and confirming my belated suspicion.

“Hello Dad,” I said.