A/N 2/3 today!
Ser Loran’s features softened, and he nodded toward a nearby stump. “Sit with me,” he invited, moving to perch on the stump’s edge. James followed suit, feeling the ridged bark dig into his thighs.
Clearing his throat, Loran began, “You’re wise to be cautious. People often collect skills willy-nilly when they’re young or inexperienced, then regret not saving space for advanced or synergistic abilities later in life.” He folded his hands in his lap, armor clanking softly. “Now, what do you already know about skill slots?”
James inhaled, recalling Andy’s words. He spoke quietly, not wanting everyone else to overhear. “My dad told me that the average person might have around twenty. Mages can sense their spirit better, so they might manage them more effectively. And… that I should choose carefully.”
The knight’s eyes showed a flicker of surprise, then approval. “Your father gave you good advice.” He paused a moment, as though chewing on something deeper. “Most folks indeed cap out near twenty. Some prodigies or those with high-level talents can hold more—maybe up to thirty, though I’ve never personally met one who went that far or if I have they never shared with me. If you keep leveling your existing skills, some may merge or evolve. In some rifts, synergy rewards can transform two or three skills into a single, more potent skill, freeing up space. But those are rare and often unpredictable.”
James nodded thoughtfully, thinking of the synergy between his experiences. The memory of how he was an unique—Convergent Soul, his Title read—stirred a thousand uncertainties. His soul was the result of two distinct lives merging: Frank’s and James’s. That had granted him some hidden capacity for rapid skill growth or maybe some unique synergy.
Ser Loran cleared his throat. “Of course,” he went on, “it’s not just about skill slots, though. Talents—the inborn gifts each person is revealed to have—can shape how quickly your skills grow or even grant you entire new skill trees. That’s why folks anxiously wait for the Adventurer’s Guild to arrive with their runic device. Learning your talent early can change your life: you’ll know where your strengths are and what path might suit you best.”
James tucked that away, brow furrowing. “I’ve never had mine revealed,” he admitted quietly. “Neither has Joey. The guild scribes came through Tellemoria before we were ten and could see them.”
Ser Loran nodded, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword. “That’s common enough. The guild has a roster of towns it visits, but smaller places sometimes get overlooked—or just catch the scribes on a tight schedule. Still, there are other ways to find your talent. Some nobles buy personal runic devices, or hire specialists to do private reveals.”
“Why not just go to the guild?” James asked, tilting his head. “Wouldn’t that be simpler?”
The knight’s expression darkened slightly, an unspoken heaviness filling his voice. “Not always. The guild follows its own interests. Don’t get me wrong—they do plenty of good in this realm. But there have been cases where powerful talents draw too much attention.” His gaze flicked to James. “Unscrupulous mages, certain nobles—they might see a gifted child as a tool to wield, or even an asset to buy and sell.”
James’s mouth went dry at the thought. “They’d do that?”
Stolen novel; please report.
“Aye,” Ser Loran said grimly. “In the worst places, with the worst people, children who show promise can be conscripted or enslaved. Some have their souls bound caged by dark magic so they can’t disobey. That’s not common, but it happens. And that’s why I say talents are double-edged swords. They can elevate you… or mark you as a target.”
The words landed like stones in James’s gut. _I’m already carrying a lifetime of secrets… now I have to worry about being kidnapped or used? A ripple of apprehension ran through him. He rubbed his palms against his trousers. “So… if my talent is strong or unusual,” he ventured, voice hushed, “should I wait until I’m somewhere safe—like with people I trust—before trying to reveal it?”
Ser Loran’s expression softened, but a note of caution remained. “I can’t decide that for you, James. Some folks prefer revealing their talent publicly, hoping the guild’s structure will protect them. Others do it privately through a discreet runesmith or a reputable noble house that doesn’t dabble in dirty politics. In certain courts—particularly among the ambitious—talented youths become pawns. You’d be wise to keep your gift under wraps until you’re sure of your surroundings.”
James grimaced. He’d already been hiding the truth of his reincarnation—the fact that he was both Frank and James—knowing that such a confession could strain even his adoptive parents’ understanding. Now he had to add potential talent exploitation to the pile of worries. As if I needed one more reason to be anxious.
He forced a swallow, struggling to quell the dryness in his throat. “So… that means I should… what? Pretend I have nothing? Lie?”
“Not necessarily,” Ser Loran replied, his tone steady but urgent. “Just be guarded. Talents are powerful tools—and so is the knowledge of one’s talent. If you’re uncertain about who might twist it for their own gain, keep it to yourself. For now, your mother and father might not even realize how dangerous it could be if the wrong people found out. And you…” The knight paused, then continued more quietly, “You must decide when or if you’ll reveal it. Remember: no one else has the right to that knowledge if you don’t grant it.”
A dozen questions clamored for space in James’s mind, but he settled on the one pressing most loudly. “What if I never reveal it?”
Ser Loran’s features softened. “That’s your choice, though it might limit you. Many paths—especially if you join an Adventurer’s Guild or train in specialized magic—require knowing your talent to unlock advanced skills. But your life is your own. Don’t rush into the light if you’re not prepared for the shadows that follow.”
James turned the knight’s words over and over in his head, that uneasy feeling in his gut refusing to ease. Just one more secret… one more burden. But at least now he understood: sometimes, ignorance was safer than knowledge in a world where power could turn friend into foe.
Still, a part of him bristled at the idea of cowering in the dark, hiding something that might help him protect the people he loved. Another question formed on his lips, but he found himself hesitating. Should I mention my… uniqueness? The reincarnation, the titles he has acquired, the possibility he might have an extraordinary talent.
But he held back. Not yet. I’ve got enough weight on my shoulders already, he thought bleakly. No need to add more… or risk trusting the wrong person before I’m truly safe.
In the hush that followed, Ser Loran squeezed James’s shoulder in a rare, comforting gesture. “Think on it, lad,” he said, voice low. “No one can decide for you. But I’ll do what I can to keep you safe, no matter what.”
James inclined his head, forcing a small, grateful smile. “Thank you,” he managed, though his chest felt tight. Thank you for the warning… and for reminding me I’m still not free from all these secrets.