Lydia and I traveled together for the next month. As we grew closer, she dispensed with some of her awkward formality, but still insisted on calling me “My Lord,” saying it was a matter of etiquette. We fell into a simple routine: training in the mornings, walking until nightfall, then conversations by the fire. Unfortunately, idyllic as that was, a complication of life in this world that reared its head: no supermarkets.

While there was plenty of food in the starter kit, I didn’t want it to run out. Brimming with new found (and cheating enabled) confidence, I decided to hunt. It was a rousing failure. For the first four nights, I caught exactly nothing. Lydia teased me each time I came back empty handed. “Awe inspiring, my Lord.”

Finally, on the fifth night, I eventually snuck up on... well... it looked like a deer, but it had one too many heads. Regardless, as soon as I took it down, I got the ever so rewarding text prompt indicating a new skill: Hunting. I maxed it out and learned the problem with my previous technique, everything. I had been doing everything wrong.

‘‘Well, live and learn. Especially when you cheat at the learning part,’ I thought and snickered.

Lydia gawked when I walked back into our base with the giant creature slung across my shoulders. I threw it at her feet. She looked up at me wide eyed.

“And what, exactly, am I supposed to do with that?”

“Nothing yet.” Fortunately, Hunting also covered butchering, so I took a knife from the starter kit and set to work. I cut, sliced, and tore my way through the animal’s innards. Twenty minutes later, it was done, and I was incredibly self-satisfied. There was just something so damn manly about being covered in blood and standing over the perfectly prepared carcass of an animal you hunted yourself. I paused to savor the experience. Unfortunately, Lydia did not seem to share my opinion and cut it short by casting her cleaning spell on me.

“Hey, I was having a moment!”

“I’m sure you were… Well, since you hunted and prepared it, I suppose I’ll cook. Just don’t get used to it.” She smiled playfully.

While the food was roasting, we began to discuss her new favorite topic, fighting. Over the last month, I had learned that she was a freak when it came to combat. As a kid, she had watched gladiatorial matches, martial arts tournaments and something called "The Hero League." Apparently, the only thing that stopped her from becoming a fighter herself was, as she put it, a complete lack of ability. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t reach the first level in any combat skill.

So, now that she was capable, Lydia threw herself into it. If I allowed it, she would have done nothing but practice, all day every day. And her effort showed. Lydia’s progress was astounding… more astounding to her than it was to me since I knew what Great Teacher was capable of, but remarkable nonetheless.

“My Lord, while you were away hunting, I reached Spear Level 4!”

“That’s great!” My enthusiasm was dampened somewhat when I realized I had no idea what that actually meant.

“Lydia, what do skill levels actually mean?”

She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “They represent your proficiency with a skill. The more you use them and the more you train, the higher they become.”

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“So your expertise provides the level, not the other way around?”

“Not exactly. The skill level and martial ability are entwined. Moving one, moves the other. It doesn’t matter if your skill increases through combat or if your combat abilities improve because you raised your skill level, the end result is the same. For example, whatever you’ve been doing has greatly boosted my skill acquisition, so my combat ability is being raised by leveling, not by gaining combat experience, as it normally would.”

“Ah, you noticed that,” I said sheepishly.

She smiled. “My Lord, in a month's time I’ve progressed from being a complete novice to having a professional soldier's understanding of the spear. Only a prodigy could do that, and I know I’m no prodigy.” Lydia spun the spear around herself for emphasis.

I returned her smile, “show off.”

She smirked.

“Finally, at each skill level, the body is able to absorb essence.”

“Essence?”

“Yes, my Lord, essence is magical energy related to a skill. The essence allows for certain abilities to be used in conjunction with the skill. This is most apparent in magic. I use light magic, but the light magic skill level only indicates the power of abilities that I’m capable of using. The spells themselves are the abilities, which have to be either created or learned. A non combat example is cooking. The cooking skill impacts your ability to perform all the tasks that could appear on a recipe and gives you a sense of what would and would not taste good, but it doesn't actually teach you recipes.

“I see. So… There are magical spear techniques I can learn... You don’t happen to know of any.. Do you?

Her eyes lit up. “MANY, but my favorite has always been the most basic, Mana Charge. The ability is actually the same for all weapons. You let your mana flow into the weapon, strengthening it. The better you get at it, the more properties of the weapon can be altered. It can be made longer, sharper, heavier, or charged with your magic affinity,” she said giddily.

‘What the hell happened to the priestess I met a month ago… Whatever, I like this one better.’

“Interesting, and in this realm, how does mana flow?”

She paused, frowned, and appeared to be considering her next sentence very carefully.

“My Lord, these questions you ask and things you don’t know… you are not from the realm of the gods are you?”

‘Well shit, how is this going to play out? I never misled her… but maybe I should have been more adamant in my denial… I just have to come clean.’

“About that… It’s like I told you, I’m not from the Realm of the Gods.”

Lydia's face sunk, “you told me a God sent you here.”

“He did, but I was literally thrown here. I don’t have a divine purpose or mission. I’m not the answer to your prayers.”

Very quietly, Lydia asked, “Well, then, what are you?”

“I don’t know, my best guess is that I’m a migrator.”

“No,” Lydia said forcefully. “Migrators arrive by portal. They don’t fall from the sky.”

“Well then, I truly don’t know.”

Lydia stayed quiet.

“Are we going to be okay?” I asked nervously.

Lydia paused again. The silence stretched interminably.

“Yes. We’ll be fine.” She smiled gently and looked at me earnestly. “You may not be a god, but you still answered my prayers.” A beat later, she sputtered and coughed.

“I mean... That is not what I… I meant that when you arrived- I was-”

I chuckled, “Easy Lydia, I know what you meant.”

She turned beet red and exhaled. “Thank you, my lo- Noah.”

“Come on, I think that is enough real talk for now. Let’s go another round.”

Lydia twirled the spear over her head before bringing it to ready position. “You're on!”