Now, as much as some folks may argue otherwise, Evie wasn’t a complete idiot. She’d known something strange was going on when she saw floating letters in her vision and started getting notifications like her phone was implanted in her brain.

She just hadn’t been sure if it was real, or some crazy brain tumor.

But now she had confirmation. She had proof that it wasn’t just in her head.

It all started to come together. The fact that the moss bear had been level 22. The idea that she could “learn” the skill [Identify]. The option to take on a [Fighter] class. Her own transfer to this world in the first place. And now, her status screen.

Which, if she was being honest, seemed kind of rough. Just two strength? Two wisdom? Even the weakest characters in Baldur’s Gate 3 started out with a minimum of eight in every attribute.

“This…this is bad, right?” She looked to Dacre and Nan. “That I only have two strength?”

Nan snorted, then quickly tried to cover it up. “Two strength? Ahem. Two strength. That’s…yes. That’s a bit below average.”

Dacre started writing on his notebook and said, “Yes. Below average for a ten-year-old.”

Evie’s jaw dropped.

Nan coughed and cleared her throat. “Do you remember previous your class or levels? When I [identify] you, you appear as level one, without a class.”

“No,” Evie shook her head. “I don’t think I ever had one. Or, at least, I don’t remember having one.”

“Stranger and stranger,” murmured Dacre. “And you don’t remember any details of this world, or the System?”

“No,” Evie responded again.

Dacre sighed. “Well, I’ve never seen anything like it before. I don’t even know where I would begin to try to reverse whatever caused your current state. But then again, I don’t want to subject you to months of testing and study.” He met her eyes. “So the question is, what do you want to do?”

“Can I think about it?”

The healer nodded. “Absolutely. Now, if I may, I would like to request that you stay in the infirmary tonight, just to make sure there are no adverse effects of whatever transpired. Is that alright with you?”

“That sounds fine,” Evie replied.

“Good, good,” Dacre nodded. “We don’t have any other patients tonight, so you have the place to yourself. And I sleep in the flat above the infirmary so if you need anything, I’ll be close by. We can check in tomorrow morning and see where you want to go from there.”

“And in the meantime,” Nan cut in. She smiled down at Evie. “How do you feel about a drink?”

The pub next to the stables was clearly popular. Evie sat in the back of the room with Nan and Marrel maneuvered through tables full of laughing and shouting patrons. It was a big room, with stairs on either side of the bar that led up to more tables overlooking the rest of the room. Lanterns filled the pub with warm, low lights. The bar itself looked to be built around an old ship’s mast, and it looked as though you could even reach the mast’s crow’s nest by jumping from the second-floor balcony. Currently, it was occupied by a young woman flirting with the bartender below.

Evie watched as Marrel greeted the bartender with a firm handshake and pointed to the woman above. The other man shrugged with a sly grin, and filled three mugs for their table. The ale sloshed over the sides a bit as Marrel wove his way back across the room. Nan sat in front of Evie, so she was somewhat shielded from the broader crowd. But even so, she could feel the curious looks of the other patrons. A few even stopped and stared.

She slid down lower in her seat. Marrel set the mugs on the table and sat between her and the room, giving her another layer of privacy. “Don’t mind them,” he grumbled. He slid the mug over to her and took a deep drink from his own.

Nan hummed appreciatively at her own drink. “Is this batch Callan’s brew?”

Marrel nodded.

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“Don’t tell Eamon, but I think young Cal’s a better brewer than his old man,” Nan said. She turned to Evie. “Don’t mind the crowd. They’re probably just curious about your status.”

“My status?” Evie replied. She sniffed at the ale and took a small sip, then widened her eyes. “This is delicious!” It reminded her of a Trappist beer – smooth and easy to drink, but strong.

Marrel’s eyes widened. “Are we allowed to ask about her status now?” He leaned forward. “I bet it was a curse. Was it a curse?”

Evie shrugged. “Not sure. Sorry.” She actually felt a little bad when his shoulders dropped. “Actually, can I see your status?”

Marrel acted as if she’d just asked the word for that great big ball of light in the sky. Nan just smiled and patted his arm. “It's easy once you get the hang of it. You just…want to do it. Look at me, and try to think about who I am.”

She felt a bit awkward, scrunching up her face, but felt herself break out into a grin when Nan’s status popped up.

[Healer, lvl 51]

Evie turned to Marrel.

[Farmer, lvl 44]

"It works!” She crowed. “Ha, this is so exciting!” She started looking around the room and using [Identify] on everyone.

[Guard, lvl 14]

[Fisherman, lvl 38]

[Brewer, lvl 27]

[Salt Miner, lvl 62]

[Seamstress, lvl 8]

[Stonemason, lvl 46]

[Enchanter, lvl 53]

Ding! [Identify] has reached level 2. You can now [Identify] objects.

She looked down at her mug.

[Common Mug]

“I leveled up [Identify]!” She laughed and looked around the room.

Nan and Marrel looked at each other. “That’s…great, sweetheart,” Nan said.

Marrel snorted.

Evie flushed. “Sorry.”

“No, no!” Nan waved her hand. It’s just…a conversation you normally have with children.”

Evie covered her face with her hands, letting out a muffled “Wow.” She took a deep breath, running her hand over her face. “Okay, so I’m guessing it’s weird that I don’t have a class.” She looked at Nan. “Explain it to me like I’m a child.”

Nan thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. So, a child grows up without a class, but can start to choose one when they’re 12 or 13 years old, based on their interests, activities, and qualifications for a task. When you’re that young, most of the classes will be an apprenticeship or training class. So a 12-year-old who wants to be a soldier may choose the [Cadet] class. Then, once they reach relative maturity, around 17 or 18, they could evolve to the full [Soldier] or [Guard] class.”

Evie nodded along. “The System offered me the [Fighter] class.”

Marrel choked on his ale. “Did you take it?”

Evie frowned. “No way.”

Marrel nodded. “Good. That’s good.” He grimaced. “Nan told me about the bear screaming.”

“Ah.” Evie nodded and took a large gulp of ale. “So. How would I pick a class that I actually want?”

“Well,” Marrel replied. “Most children visit the different classes in town to see if they like any of the roles. The island schools that keep a running list of classes we don’t have represented on Bar Island, if anyone still doesn’t find a good fit. Until the child is ready to choose a class, they'll participate in those activities as best they can. Spend time people who do have their class, until they reach whatever the prerequisites are for a trainee class. Some children, depending on the class, may not be able to get their class until 16 or 17, if they're not sure what they want.”

“What if a kid chooses a class and later regrets it?”

Marrel grinned. “You’re looking at him. I used to be a [Courier] in the capital, Forlas.” He shook his head “After a couple of years, I realized that just the work didn’t make me happy anymore. Most of the temples have a way to switch classes, but it isn’t a good option for most folks. You lose all of your levels. You basically start from scratch. Thankfully, the temple where I switched my classes had an enchanted item that allowed me to transfer my [Sprint] skill from a class skill to a general skill, but that’s all I kept from that old life. I moved here, stayed with Nan’s father. Then I met Nan, swept her off her feet, and became a [Farmer] to help run the family business.”

Nan snorted. “‘Swept me off my feet’ my ass. You bowled me over sprinting across the fields and gave me a concussion.”

“And we lived happily ever after,” he replied solemnly. Nan laughed and rolled her eyes.

Evie thought of something he said. “Can you explain skills?”

Marrel shrugged. “Skills are like…” He looked at his wife. “Actually, how would you explain skills? They’re just…skills.”

Nan scratched her head. “Well, when you try something, you might get a skill for it. A skill can act like an amplifier. As you do that action more, and depending on how you do it, you make level up the skill and get some new abilities."

“Yes!” Marrel beamed. “Okay, so when I started as a courier, I ran without any skills. I just ran. But as I leveled up, I gained the [Sprint] skill. And as I leveled up [Sprint], I could run faster for longer. Beyond what I could have done with just hard work. I could run for miles and miles at top speed.”

Nan nodded and added, “Different skills give different amplifiers. An enchanter might get a skill that makes her work faster, or her enchantments more durable. A fighter may gain a skill that lets him punch through stone or gives him a boost of speed or power if he loses more than half of his health.”

“Huh.” Evie thought about it. “Do you have any cool skills?”

Nan hesitated. “Sweetheart, that’s considered a pretty personal question. Most folk like to keep their skills close to the vest, unless they’re in a tight spot or it’s part of their job. Some folks will offer, and I don’t mind sharing, but keep in mind that some may find it rude.”

Evie groaned. “I’m sorry. I feel like I’m doing everything wrong.”

Nan patted her arm. “It’s been a long day. Have another drink. It’ll help.”