“Ah, Zeek, I were wondrin when ya’d pop up!” The stocky human smith called out as we approached him. Derren was covered in soot, small pockmark scars caused by burning embers, and sweat. He was shirtless, allowing me to see that on top of the pockmark scars there were some other, more gruesome scars as well. The man was well muscled but with a firm beer belly, he had long since lost his eyebrows and his hair was generally frizzy and all over the place. He grinned as we stepped up to him, 6 of his teeth clearly missing and even more replaced with gold or even one emerald.

“Derren! My friend, I've brought my son, assuming you'll still teach ‘im?” My father reached out and grabbed the smith's forearm in greeting. The two were a similar age.

“Fer ya Zeek, o’ course! Boyo, don’ be shy now. If’n we gone work togetha you cannat hide behind yer pa!” He waved me over as they let go of each other's arms. Between his strange speech patterns and the missing teeth it took me a moment to figure out what he was saying.

“Thank you for taking me under your wing, sir,” I said respectfully as I reached a hand out for a shake. “I’m Lios.”

Despite having lived here for ten years I didn’t know many of the citizens very well, given my reclusive tendencies. I had met a few of them, including Derren, over the years but I figured that since I’d be working with him I should introduce myself properly. He gave me a half toothed grin and clasped my forearm.

“Dere, das betta ain it? Zeek ye can skedaddle.”

“Alright, I leave my boy to you. You best not tell him about that time, else I'll have your drunk ass placed in a cell for a week. Nobody will bat an eye, you know it.” My fathers tone was teasy, Derren just laughed. His chuckle was like the rumble of an avalanche, low and raucous, louder than a tree falling. My father turned without ceremony and started walking back home. “See ya for dinner son. Don’t mind Derren much, the old codger is wily but he knows what he's doing.”

“Aight step un, get you the smithin skill. Afta I’ll show ye how ta make a dagga. Fer da most part y’ell be jess helpin me out but afta a few wecks y’ell be makin yer own product. Yer pa say you study inscription too?” Derren spoke quickly as he led me into the forge area. The air was, as expected, sweltering. I was already starting to sweat despite the cool spring air outside.

“Yessir, although I haven’t tried to enchant anything yet.” I smiled at the man, then removed my shirt to salvage it from the errant sparks and the rivulets of sweat that were pouring from me.

“Ye may wanna keep yer shirt on, da sparks hurt lie a bitch once dey touch ya.”

The forge sat within a wooden pavilion, although most of the structure was held up by beams of iron. The forge itself was in the center of the room, and was around eight feet wide. On each of four sides of it, like a compass, were bellows and anvils as well as a tube-like quenching tank. For anything larger than that tank there was a trough filled with water that one could use. Over the top of the forge was a four sided structure like a pizza oven, a brick facade that allowed the heat of the forge to bake the contents inside. I saw a small number of tools inside, presumably being heat treated. Around the edges of the pavilion were a number of tables. A few of them were clearly workstations, with tools scattered and surfaces ready for cutting or carving either leather or wood as well as a drafting table for designing equipment. The others were piled with unfinished gear or various metal ingots. A bin was filled with wood, what looked like scrap pieces just big enough to use for handles or other relatively small projects. It looked cluttered at a glance but as I observed the covered smithy I realized it was well organized.

I ignored the warning, perhaps foolishly. He started by having me slam a three pound hammer down on a piece of scorching steel a few times until the ding of the system made me jump halfway out of my boots. The sparks indeed hurt like a bitch, but I endured them. I was glad I didn’t yet have body hair to burn. I immediately set the [Smithing] skill as one of my general skills. Afterwards he just spoke through what he was doing, showing me the full process of heating an ingot, shaping it, repeating, quenching. It was hard to understand him normally, but even harder with the echoing clang of the hammer on metal. Even still I followed along, pounding into my own bar of steel. He had to wait about twice as long as it took him to finish a step for me to complete the same steps, aside from heating the metal itself. I wasn't able to completely finish the blade before it was near time for supper, but the stout man was grinning by the time we were done. In just the afternoon my [Smithing] skill had already risen to level 7.

My days were fairly well structured. In the morning I resumed my training, first a spar with my dad followed by breakfast. A bit of training with Maya, then onto training my “sword dances” as I was calling them. I had spent the evenings in the past few weeks, since gaining the system, practicing my runes, and the last week or so I had been trying to translate it to my dances. It was difficult, much harder than I thought, to layer runes with footsteps and [Mana Manipulation]. Today I finally felt ready to commit to it. Usually I wrote the runes and simply let the mana dissipate rather than activate the spell, but today was different. My mother was watching the foxes inside, and I was in Brioches clearing.

I had taken to training here more often, enjoying my alone time and embracing the serenity of the forest. It felt clearer now, the mana around me. I danced around the clearing, writing runes into the air beneath my feet as I moved. I panted at the end of my dance. There were only five individual symbols in my dance but it took a ton of focus just to write them. I had no idea if this was even viable in an actual combat scenario. I bit my lip as I timidly activated the spell, letting my stands of mana pull the runes together and feeling my mana drain towards the inscription.

I felt the rush of the mana around me, the mana of the world, pull towards my runes like a cyclone before it suddenly stopped. I smiled, at least the first part of my circle was written correctly, I’d realized while writing my spells on paper that the mana cost for the spells I wanted to cast grew with each rune added, so to supplement that I added two runes to my circle that would gather the ambient mana, and three to execute the spell. This way, the only runes I needed to personally power were the two that gathered mana.

The only reason I felt the mana swirl around me was because rather than getting a [Fox Raising] or similar skill, I had picked up [Mana Sense]. This was at the recommendation of Derren after realizing that while I could write runes and etch steel with them, if it was purely a mana construct with no visual indicators, I was struggling to perceive my own magic. While working with him I had described my runedancing and after articulating the issue we came to the conclusion that I couldn’t gain [Runesmithing] or any similar skills until I was able to see or sense my enchantments.

I held my breath for a moment as the runes finally activated, around ten feet from me as I was stood at the edge of the circle. A blast of heat met me as flames swirled from the center of the rune circle setting half of the grass in the clearing on fire. The flames rushed around the glade and licked my legs causing me to jump back, panicked. The epicenter, where I had started the runes, had an empty circle around 3 feet wide. The flames vanished quickly but left in their place were burning shrubs and grass, and my charred pant leg. I batted at it as I felt the heat crawling up my leg, biting back a scream as I put the flame out. Thankfully it was just one of my calves but as I assessed the damage I saw that I was pretty badly burnt, though it wasn't third degree.

I started to stomp out the flames before they could spread. I was overjoyed aside from the frequent cursing and wincing at the pain in my leg. The spell had worked, It really worked. As soon as the flames were extinguished I started to attempt to cast it again but this time, as I reached the end of the casting I snapped the runes towards me instead of towards the starting point. This time, the flames spread out from around me and I was safe. I still felt the heat but I wasn't burned, a small circle surrounded me, around three feet in diameter, that kept me just outside of the infantile inferno I had just manifested.

I stole a glance at my skill levels. Tonight I would choose my class, it was a huge decision. Almost all of my skills were level 10, the early levels didn’t take much to earn. My intuition skill was the only one falling behind but I was okay with that, it was usually one that was difficult to level and train. Part of me wished for something closer to an [Identify] skill but those and other appraisal skills typically only affected items, or in special circumstances people. Different classes could get different versions, but they were all limited, there was no catchall or skill that was capable of checking an individual's identity, or that would provide information about various types of items and materials.

[Name]

Alexilios

[Race]

Human

[Initial Designation]

Child of Discordance: lvl10

[Class]

Unavailable

[Class Skills]

10x unavailable

[General Skills]

[Bladed Weapon Mastery] LVL:10

[Running] LVL:10

[Dodging] LVL:10

[Intuition] LVL:7

[Dancing] LVL:10

[Runic Inscribing] LVL:10

[Tailoring] LVL:10

[Mana Manipulation] LVL:10

[Smithing] LVL:10

[Mana Sense] LVL:10

I limped my way back home, thankfully today my mother was bringing lunch to my father so when I got home she wasn't there to see my burnt pants and leg. I quickly ate and stowed the burnt pants under my bed before heading to the forge. The heat there was horrid on my leg but I suffered through it. While working I spent the majority of the afternoon as Derrens assistant until he reached a stopping point on the project, a massive warhammer that would be shipped off to the capitol with the next merchant caravan. After working on the hammer I continued to practice my smithing. I was in the process of making a runesmithed dagger. The difference between enchanting and runecrafting was small. Basically, while forging the item one would pour their mana into the metal and etch runes with only mana into the item between each heating. This was a much more tedious process than simply using an enchanter's stylo and etching the runes into the steel, but for me it made more sense considering I was already learning to smith and to inscribe. Most craftsmen were unwilling to branch out into multiple fields of crafting, specializing oft came with more wealth. It was also much harder to level four or five skills dedicated to different crafts than it was to level five to eight skills dedicated to the same craft. Plus, the more skills one had dedicated to their primary class or specialization the more they were able to do for each item. The end results were similar but a runecrafted item typically held their magic for much much longer than an enchanted item might. It also made it significantly harder to craft the item itself, as you had to focus on multiple separate processes at a time. Derren himself was just a smith, he had no desire to enchant or learn to runecraft, and often told me that I was ambitious to attempt to learn it on my own. To him, the word ambitious was synonymous with foolish.

In this case, since I had successfully crafted a regular dagger, I was making an enchanted billet of steel that I was hoping would resemble damascus from earth. I was attempting to imbue it with runes to improve the hardness and sharpness perpetually. The steel was nearly ready to actually craft into an item but I had wanted one extra day's worth of mana and inscribing to truly set the enchantment. I was a simple enchantment, but that was what I was able to do with the Lexico rune language.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Me lad, ye still enchantin’ that hunk o’ steel? Ye coulda finished a ‘ole dagga by now,'' Derren called out as he was wrapping the handle of the hammer. On the same table, there was only one dedicated to leathercraft, was the wolf's pelt that my father had harvested for me. I was still unsure what to do with it. It would likely be just big enough to make a short cloak or cape but that didn't appeal to me. Instead I was contemplating adding it as liners for a future set of armor but I was a long way away from making something that complex.

“Hey, I gotta get that skill somehow, don't I? Plus, if I get it I can pre enchant the metal for you.” I knew that idea appealed to the codger, he was always thirsty for extra coin and enchantments often brought coin.

“I told yer once and I tells yas again, if ya wanna learn runesmithin go to tha dwarves,” he called out.

“You know they wouldn't trade those secrets with a human, lest I do something crazy.” I turned my focus to the freshly reheated metal. I was close to finishing the billet, I could tell, but it wouldn't matter if I couldn't make the knife itself.

“Aye yer right bout dat, buh I still fink ye shoul’ quit wastin yer time. Oh well, tis yer life kiddo.” He shook his head then turned his attention back to his own work, noticing I was going to be distracted for a few minutes at least while slamming my hammer into the sweltry metal. Under his breath I could hear him muttering, “‘Derren can I be your apprentice? I promise ta take yer advice.’ Pretty shoddy feckin apprentice if ya ask me.”

I grinned knowing he didn't mean any of that.

I was sweaty and sore and exhausted before I made my way back home. I went in quickly to grab some clean clothes, a towel and some soap. My mother wasn't quite done with supper yet, so I had time for a bath. “Ma, I’ll be right back just gotta take to the stream!”

“You’d better, I can smell the smoke on ya from here. What is that old goat making you do? Bathe in the forge?” She scrunched her face as my smell filled the room. Not replying, I rushed to the stream and quickly jumped in, eager to rid myself of smoke sweat and to hopefully soothe my burnt legs, and the pockmarks from the sparks that were starting to cover my chest and arms.

Pretty quickly I realized the water temperature rose to a more comfortable temperature for the sweltering climate, going from seemingly freezing to tepid. We were in between spring and summer now, though our environment was less prone to the shifting seasons considering our climate was similar to that of southern california, but the summers and springs could grow extremely hot. I smiled, knowing better than to turn around.

“Brook! My favorite water spirit, it has been a while.” I called out, guessing at what she really was.

“So, you figured it out?” Her voice twinkled like raindrops on glass,a pleasant sound. I nodded and tilted my head.

“Though I am unsure on which specific type of spirit you are.”

“But you have a guess? Oh my what has happened to your arms?” I felt her close in on me, she touched my arm from behind. It was a motherly gesture, or at least how I perceived it.

“Oh, right, I'm an apprentice smith now. Just caught a few sparks.” I smiled, tempted to turn towards her. “Are you a Naiad?”

“OOh clever boy. I am. The forge does not explain the burn on your calf either. I can heal it a little if you like.”

“Hmm.. this may sound strange, Miss Brook, but I'd rather prefer to let it heal naturally. I likely won't always have access to the convenience of healing magic, and should learn to manage the pain of my mistakes on my own.” I knew in this world of magic that my insistence on committing to my own power and abilities, over that of the system and wizards, would likely seem odd to most, but it was necessary. For most of my adventures, lest I find a companion that I wished to travel with in particular, I would be secluded, on my own in the wilderness. I needed to know that I could take care of myself when it became necessary.

“Very well, strange boy. I suppose now that you know what I am and have gained the system you may look upon me. Though, your parents might dislike if you do so while I'm nude so I will create some clothes.” The water rushed about, flowing upstream for a moment while she ‘dressed’. “You may turn if you like.”

I did not hesitate, I was curious if the drawings in my copy of “Mystical Creatures of Jorial” were at all accurate. When I turned I couldn't stop myself from gasping. She was gorgeous. Her skin was made of flowing scales, blue and green and shimmering and shining. Some looked murky, some clean, all gorgeous. She took the visage of someone in their twenties, an indigo smile playing at her lips as she gauged my reaction. I was silent, only observing.

Her dress, that she had presumably just created, frothed where it touched the river, like a waterfall. When I listened I could faintly hear the rumble of rapids coming from it, but the sound was subdued. Her hair was green like the plant life beneath the running river, like the algae and weeds. It was beautiful, incomprehensible. It moved as though it were underwater, shifting fluidly. I found her face, she was smirking. It had undoubtedly been a few seconds, likely overlong, that I had stared with my mouth agape. I closed it, feeling myself flush.

“Miss Brook, you are more beautiful than the art in my books would ever be able to depict,” I said, shocked that I didn't find myself stammering.

“Why thank you young Lios, but you are certainly far too young to attempt flirting with me. Try again in a few hundred years and I may just be more receptive.” She teased playfully, letting out a giggle that sounded reminded me of the twinkling of water splashing amongst water, rain falling onto an otherwise still pond.

“Thank you for letting me see you.” I nodded amicably, unsure what to say.

“Of course, my little friend, I feel I can trust you to keep this secret. My kind are often... pursued for unsavory reasons.” her face turned to an expression of discomfort, of disgust.

“I’m sure. I read most will seek naiads for alchemical substances, and some for their scales. I wouldn’t dream of it.” I smiled at her, trying to reassure her. “Am I allowed to tell my parents? It’s okay if not.”

“You may. By the way, I haven't seen that fox in quite some time. Did something happen to her?” She tilted her head, and I felt a pang of pain in my chest. It had been a few weeks since she passed, and it still hurt to think about her. I had thought of her as both a friend and a pet, and losing her reminded me that this world was not like my last. This world, for those who sought it, was filled with violence and loss. Bandits, wild animals, and monsters peppered the landscape. Her loss had reminded me of the others I lost when being brought to this world.

I nodded. “Yeah. Unfortunately, she was attacked by a starving wolf. I was able to wake up in time to save her kits, two of them anyway, but she... She succumbed to the wolf's ire.” I looked down, I had replayed that moment, that day in its entirety, many times. My parents kept telling me that chances were none of them would have lived if I hadn't been there, but I wondered about the veracity of that sentiment. If I wasn't there with those sausages, or my own scent would the wolf have found them?

Seeing my expression Brook wrapped me in a sudden, unexpected hug. “Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault. If anything it is the fault of those who caused the forest to sicken.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hmm, you know of the Dread Wastes?” She pulled away from the hug and went to sit upon a stone nearby. “The barrier is beginning to fail. ‘Tis too much for you to worry on, perhaps when you are stronger I can go into deeper detail. Anyway, with the barrier failing there is some magical energy seeping into the Deepbloom and other areas of interest, it is reshaping some of the environment and likely is what is causing some animals to relocate from their usual hunting grounds. I suspect the wolf was one.”

I was quiet for a bit. I knew that the barrier was centuries if not millennia old, but not that it could deteriorate. Either way, she was correct. I was not enough to stop it as I was now. I sighed, wishing I could carry this conversation on for longer but I knew I needed to return home soon. “Sorry Brook. I have to go or I’ll be late for supper.”

“Ah, right, then see you next time. Feel free to tell your parents but only if they swear to secrecy please.”

“Of course, thank you miss Brook.” I smiled and she turned away as I stepped out from the river. I quickly dried myself before donning my comfortable, slightly flowy pants and jogged to my home.

When I entered I saw that the burnt pants had been moved from under the bed and were now draped over my chair. My mother glowered at me as she paced and my father was simply sipping at his steaming bowl of tato soup.

“Lios, explain.” My mother sternly pointed towards the pants. I gulped.

“I um... well I was practicing and... caught myself on fire a little.” my cheeks flared with pink and I avoided her gaze. Part of me was ashamed that I wasn't looking her in the eyes but most of me was embarrassed by what had happened. “But, I successfully cast it the second time!”

“Are you hurt? No more training if you're just going to get hurt.” My mother chided me.

“I burned my leg a little bit but I promise I'm okay!” I pulled up my pant leg to show her the cloth wrapped around my leg. I had soaked it in clean boiled water before leaving for the forge, and left it wrapped when I took my bath. It was probably a good time to let it breathe, but I would definitely soak some more rags on the morrow before heading to the smithy. I unwrapped it, wincing slightly as the wet cloth pulled at my sensitive red skin. “See, it's just like a sunburn that's all.” It was definitely worse than the average sunburn but it didn't look that bad.

“Hmmph. Next time tell me and I’ll take you to a healer.” She sat down, and blew on her steaming soup. I grinned as I sat down and did the same before taking a hasty bite. “Careful it's... hot” My mothers warning was late.

“Hashwahsshush,” I was forced to incoherently gasp and babble to cool the food in my mouth as it burned the roof of my mouth and tongue. My dad laughed.

“So, kiddo, you're gonna take a class today?” My dad asked after he finished laughing at my pain.

“Yes! I don't know if it'll be a fighting or crafting one yet though... I’m excited though. You said it’ll make me sleep right? So should I wait till I’m going to bed or just do it after dinner?” Luka started to climb up my leg as we spoke. When I’d first brought them home they were the size of my palm but were growing fast. I dipped my bread into the soup and let him take a bite as Sky perked up from the other side of the room, rushing over for a treat. I dipped again for her, they definitely weren't spoiled.

“Yeah, you should probably do it after supper. Otherwise you’ll be groggy in the morning,” My mom said. She was smiling and watching the foxes in my lap. “Classing up can take a lot out of you, like when you gained the system. Depending on the power of your class it may be harder on your body than others, it also depends on if you have excess experience that's gonna level you up further.”

“Okay, is there anything I should know before I class up?” I asked through a mouthful of food.

“Lios, you are not a damn child do not speak with your mouth full.” Ever since my announcement of my past my parents had been trying to break me of some of the childish habits I had picked up while acting as, well, a child. Things had been a bit awkward, with my parents not knowing how to treat me since my revelation. They had just decided to treat me a bit more maturely, but still parent me a bit, I mean I was still ten. I didn’t mind honestly, it was nice having people, good people, looking out for me.

“Sorry ma, bad habits die hard.” I swallowed my food before replying.

After that we all sunk into our food for a bit before my father looked over at me, at this point Luka was by his feet instead of on my lap, having discovered he wouldn't be able to coerce me to give him more snacks. My father was much less restrained when it came to giving the foxes treats. The little beggar. “Aside from the people, what do you miss most from Earth? It's still weird calling a place what we call the dirt we walk on.”

At first they’d tried to spare my feelings by only asking questions about general things, or my world's history, but this past week I had told them I wouldn't be upset at any question even if it made me remember something uncomfortable. “Hmm... it's a tossup between the music and the food. We don’t have much music here, and we cant conveniently listen to it unless a bard is nearby playing for us. The wealthy, I'm sure, can afford some sort of enchanted device to play it whenever they want, but I miss being able to listen to music anytime I please. And the food from my home was sooo diverse and yummy. I miss a few meals.”

I closed my eyes for a few moments and started humming the chorus to “American Pie” contentedly. I opened my eyes to see both parents staring at me.

“You should sing something for us, or perhaps we can find you an instrument?” My mother asked after I was finished humming.

“I’ve never been a musician, maybe someday, but I think I should focus on my other training for now. Someday maybe I’ll take a singing or storytelling skill, when I have free general skill slots.” I gave the idea a little consideration, after all if I couldn't hear music normally I could at least try to make some. Or perhaps bring songs from my world to this one.

“Well you're about to free up quite a few general skill slots so, maybe you can get a musical one soon?” My dad seemed at least a little excited at the thought, to be honest he was the one who mostly asked about stories from my world. I had a feeling he was trying to relive his adventurer days through tales of earth.

“I'll think about it. I guess I should probably get to it though, the system isn't gonna wait for me too long.” I knew that was a lie, it would wait for as long as I wanted, but I also knew I wanted to get this over with.

I placed my bowl of finished soup on the ground and smiled as Luka and Sky fought over it. Sky was a bit smaller but much much faster than Luka and had her head buried in the bowl nearly immediately after I placed it down. Luka physically dragged the bowl away before lapping at the remaining tato soup. As they went back and forth I went and laid in my bed, closing my eyes. I activated the prompt that had been waiting for me since acquiring the system.