Childhood didn’t last forever.
An obvious statement, all things considered, but people rarely acted like it. Really, most children acted like they would live forever, heedless of the responsibilities awaiting them when they became adults. And oftentimes, the children who did often think about the future were convinced growing up would be so much better than their current life.
To some degree, that idea sounded agreeable from Brennan’s perspective, because he himself was also guilty of this. Only the experience of his past life made him different. He could look upon the future with added perspective. Anticipating the freedom of coming of age, being able to go where you wanted without the supervision of adults. Having the ability to make your own choices of real consequence. Worrying about companionship.
Junia would be tasting the start of that today.
His sister’s Classing Day had started with a scream of joy that woke up the whole house. After hearing it, Brennan hadn’t even felt the need to ask whether she got the Class she wanted. He did so anyway out of courtesy, and received the expected answer.
Her ceremonial clothing sat ready on the table, laid out by their mother. Junia put it on, a kind of reddish brown poncho threaded with golden tassels at the ends. It had three big yellow streaks punctuated with rhombuses woven into it, representing the past, present and future of her path. She gave a bashful grin as Doris adjusted it for her, George standing by and looking on.
At twelve years old, she had now received the same legal rights and responsibilities as her parents. In practice, it typically didn’t work that way. Children who’d recently received their Class lived with their guardians for a few more years in most cases, until they had the experience to stand on their own.
Classing Days, according to tradition, consisted of a celebratory period in the mornings, followed up by a visit to the closest religious institution to receive a blessing, and concluded with the caretakers of the child handing them over to their new workplace.
Nowadays, people often skipped the middle part, though Junia still went, albeit for no other reason than good luck or superstition. He didn’t ask, and she didn’t volunteer her thoughts on it. They just moved on as soon as they’d visited the shrine in the Village Hall.
Throughout the day, people there congratulated her, striking up conversations with her and the rest of the family. Even Brennan had to answer some questions, which he fielded in a way that made him as uninteresting as possible; this was his sister’s big day, he had no desire to hog the spotlight.
Cedric and Mellie, both of whom had already Classed, interacted with her the longest. Junia’s peers seemed to have settled into their new roles well, Cedric looking at home in the Village Hall and Mellie wearing her apothecary’s outfit with pride.
Barely more than a year had passed since the time they were still doing basic apprenticeships, and they were already looking the part of young adults. Somewhat acting like it too, in his estimation. He supposed that could be attributed to the culture and advancement of mental stats accelerating their maturation. As functioning members of Craswidge, they were in the process of setting up their personal living arrangements while they progressed their Class.
Brennan, on the other hand, would see no such upgrades in the coming year. He would turn six in a couple of months, and his progression relied solely on skill leveling and arduous stat grinding.
But he had not been idle.
Name: Brennan Kerrick
Race: Human (Lv. 0)
Class: N/A
Attributes:
STR - 7 -> 10
AGI - 10 -> 14
CON - 5 -> 8
PER - 7 -> 11
INT - 15 -> 20
WIS - 8 -> 10
SPI - 8 -> 12
- [Lucent Comprehension (Uncommon) Lv. 5] -> Lv. 60
- [Multilayer Focus (Uncommon) Lv. 1] -> Lv. 41
- [Sense Magic (Uncommon) Lv. 71] -> Lv. 87
- [Writing (Common) Lv. 99] -> [Calligraphy (Uncommon) Lv. 59]
- [Sprinting (Common) Lv. 55] -> Lv. 93
- [Drawing (Common) Lv. 14] -> Lv. 82
- [Situational Awareness (Common) Lv. 5] -> Lv. 79
- [Mathematics (Common) Lv. 1] -> Lv. 69
His status had come a long way since he started. The upgrade to Writing had been the easiest so far, with him taking the standard next step in the art of putting letters to paper. It did what it said it did, and he never spared it much thought beyond that. Useful to have when he was planning.
This text came from the page the author uses for publication without consent; reading their posted chapter supports the person who made it.
In terms of attributes, he felt the increase to Agility the most, as it’d been the result of countless hours of flexibility training with Agnes. A funny mental image popped up in his head of his current self doing a full split in front of his past self, something he couldn’t have imagined doing back then. Training the stat never ceased to amaze him, the wonders of how his body could contort itself surprising him time and time again.
Apparently, he had picked the ideal time to start. According to his parents, Agility became harder to increase as you got older, which made sense given how the human body worked. He hadn’t even considered that when he first started though. He had just wanted to see the numbers go up as much as he could.
Due to that, he was experiencing slightly faster level gain in the skills he practiced, his higher stats showing their worth and improving his ability to make bigger strides in levels. It sounded logical. He doubted people in the higher strata struggled as much as he did to level up a basic running skill, for example.
Everything in his status had seen some form of growth. He’d worked hard at it, a few skills and stats more stubborn than others, but it worked out in the end. Now he was inching closer to a Rare-rarity Sense Magic variant, and the promised deadline closed in. Still no answers to the magic problem, much to his disappointment. He was stuck getting better in other ways besides the one that actually mattered.
Why had he taken Mathematics? One simple reason. To train his Intellect. He’d been hitting a wall with the stat and realized he might as well get a skill for it while he had the space. That could be bad for his build in the future, but he had taken the plunge and decided to commit to dropping it later. The gains would remain—all he had to do was solve equations from books sold on the market.
Not that his parents bought those for him. Instead, he had started doing chores around the village in exchange for pitiful sums of drin, the smallest denomination of currency in the kingdom. In many cases, he would get just one of the copper coins handed to him after more than an hour of labor.
Child exploitation, I tell you.
Thankfully, the amount added up over time. He managed to buy two books with shockingly advanced material for him to cut his teeth on. Further than he had ever gotten in his old life, and that was vital for any of his non-physical skills if he aimed to raise his stats.
Due to his past life experience, whatever discipline he’d tried his hand at before would be easier to shore up in this world, especially when he got a skill for it. His former Reading skill demonstrated this perfectly. Even in a different language, the foundation of learning that he already possessed translated into faster levels, up to the proficiency threshold he’d peaked at.
To put it another way, if he had learned to read in his first life, that learning could make the skill levels go up at a more rapid pace until it caught up to him. In this case, that happened around level eighty. Though of course, it varied. Compared to reading, he would consider himself okay at math, meaning the boost he got after acquiring the relevant skill paled in comparison.
In all honesty, he felt satisfied with his progress and planned to drop the skill right before it upgraded, avoiding any backlash. Except for one thing, his path was coming along swimmingly.
The meta-skill he had considered got shelved for later. None that he managed to unlock appealed to him enough to spend effort on them, and his levels weren’t stalling yet. In fact, they were even coming a bit faster due to Multilayer Focus. The effect was less pronounced than he hoped, but better than he feared. This chapter was taken from novelping dot com without permission.
With a calm exhale, Brennan shook the thoughts away. They were nearing the tailory, following behind Junia who spent the whole way gushing about finally trying the advanced fabrics barred from her before her Classing.
Once they arrived in front of the door, Junia just pushed it open and walked in like she’d been here a hundred times already. Because she had. Right now, the four of them made up all the occupants in the shop. Then they heard rustling behind the racks lined with clothes.
Dressed in flowing purple fabrics, an old man stepped out. He had lost the hair on the sides of his head, a single tuft on his scalp that he styled into something approaching a mohawk. Wizened features pinched when the man saw them. Brennan guessed he was maybe a hundred years old, walking upright with the help of a Constitution. Henry the Tailor, Junia’s teacher and boss.
“Come to carry the chick out of her nest, hmm?” said the old man.
“More work than you know,” George replied, putting a hand on Junia’s shoulder. “She’s a heavy one.”
She rounded on him. “Pa!”
“And spirited as ever, I see. I’ll be ensuring she’s whipped into shape,” Henry chuckled, but the glimmer in his eyes spoke of contentment. This old Classer was glad to have Junia take up his trade.
His sister walked over to her teacher, starting an animated conversation about her passive and upgrades. Henry had to gently nudge her to say her goodbyes. Embarrassed a second time, she turned and said, “I'll be back for dinner. Remember, no gray turnips.”
“It’ll be ready when you get home,” their mother assured. “Now go, learn how to make your mother better dresses.”
“I will,” she promised. “Bye, see you tonight!”
Wishing Junia good luck, the remaining three members of the family left her to get started on practicing her profession as a grown-up.
Back in the open air, Brennan turned to his parents. “So what now? We just wait for the rest of the day?”
Doris looked at her husband, and on some unspoken signal, they both took one of Brennan's hands while walking. He eyed the two of them speculatively, trying to figure out what their game was.
“We were wondering, son,” George began, voice light. “Do you have a path in mind already? We noticed how you get with your training. You’re very…” He trailed off, searching for a word.
“Diligent,” Doris finished. “We thought we could perhaps arrange a mentor for you, dear. You pick things up fast, and if you know what you want to do, we can find a place for you.”
He looked at their hands again, now aware of what they were: clamping vices keeping him from running away, from avoiding this conversation or avoiding them entirely like he sometimes did. This conversation would happen, whether he liked it or not.
“A place?” he asked, wary.
George nodded. “From what I can tell, your skills are fit for a scholar. You can talk to us about them, or we could search for someone who has the skills to teach you in Trambol ‘cause Craswidge doesn’t have dedicated librarians.”
He didn’t really specify his skill levels or descriptions to his parents, always making sure to keep things vague and never telling them about the most important one. But something more pressing stood out to him. “Won’t that cost money?”
His mother gave him a funny look. “Yes, of course. We’re willing—”
“No,” he refused.
They seemed nonplussed, not expecting him to cut her off like that. “Brennan, what? It could be a good opportunity for you.”
And hand you a dagger to stab me in the back with later? Absolutely not.
“I don’t want you to get me a teacher,” he stated.
He wasn’t falling for that. Not in this life.