While Private Baker followed me to my office, I tried to get into my professional character. It would be a bit more difficult without the accouterments; no mask, no suit, no accent, and without my overblown mannerisms. I would try for pure professionalism and quiet competence. It was the brief moment where my mind drifted between acting and stepping around my desk to sit, that I nearly lost ahold of [Meditation].

I could feel my emotions roil and the wave of anxiety, fear, and annoyance try to drown me. The idea that someone had tortured and killed Carten in my home sickened me. Fear that I could be attacked at any time by Mage assassins nearly choked me. My rational mind said I was safe working for the Baron, and my noble title agreed. Still, I couldn’t reject the sudden panic that an assassin would jump out at me from around a corner. Even the annoyance, relatively minor in comparison, of having my life upended became an emotional tidal wave. I could feel my fears drawing back in the tide and preparing to rise up and crush me.

Strangely, it was the trigger of that fear that helped me recover my grip on [Meditation]. The fright which helped me harness the Skill while fighting Goblins worked just as well when trying to master my own mind. I stumbled slightly as I stepped around my desk and planted myself in the chair. Hiding my shaking hands under the table, I leaned forward and worked to maintain eye contact with Private Baker. In my accelerated state, my fumbled movements were unnoticeable; that or the Private politically chose to ignore my stumble.

Now that I was looking for it, the resemblance to the Sergeant was obvious. The same narrow face and eyes, but unlike the Sergeant, his younger family member was clean-shaven. The Private was able to maintain eye contact, but his shifting feet said he was uncomfortable with the situation. Closed-door, stinky room, or meeting with a Skill Trainer. I would like to pretend it was the room, but I doubted it.

“I want to clear up any misunderstandings about my profession and what it is that I do,” I said while bringing my hands onto the table and folding them together. Happily, the momentary bout of emotion was gone, and my shaking hands were steady. Hopefully, further emotional outbursts could be left until I was alone.

I knew that my use of [Meditation] would come with a cost. I even knew that I was being unreasonable using it as a crutch to control my reactions over the last few days. I just didn’t care.

“I’m sure you have heard rumors about what Skill Trainers do, and how we do it. Let me assure you that most of these rumors are false. We do not use sacrifices to gain Skills, and we do not have a way to steal Skills. There are many other rumors, I’m sure you have heard them all,” I said while nodding sagely as if I had heard this all before. I even managed an eye roll to convey my disbelief. I was happy to see the Private smiled along with my words.

My blasé attitude to these rumors seemed to be calming Baker’s concerns. Unfortunately, I was going to have to pull his emotions in a different direction to keep him off balance.

“That being said, I will need full access to your Skill list,” I said, then remained focused on Baker, eye contact almost painfully earnest.

Baker at first nodded along with me, then froze, his face turning white with horror at the idea.

I could understand his fear. No one understood the mechanism that allowed parents to see their children’s Skill list, nor why it faded with time. But everyone knew not to share their Skill list. Giving someone access to your complete Skill list meant that they could do with it as they wanted. They would have a magical link to your name. They could spend any of the rare and precious free Skill points that someone might have earned. They would know as you gained Skills or improved at the ones you had.

Once given, permission could never be revoked.

It was so taboo that parents trained their children to avoid even bring up their entire Skill list for themselves. It wasn’t possible to accidentally share a Skill’s description, and it felt entirely different than sharing the full Skill list, but it didn’t matter. Rumors and myths still abounded of magic that could allow control of someone’s Skills. These rumors were even encouraged by the Mages.

“I understand your feelings on this. I do. But in order to do my job, I need full access to your Skill list. I will swear that I will not do anything with it except assist you,” I said, trying to maintain my calm voice while the young man became more agitated.

“Um, I…uh,” Baker said, while slowly rising from his chair.

The conflict was apparent in the young man’s face. He was somewhere between fifteen and seventeen, too young to have gained his Mastery, too old to keep looking for a Master to apprentice under. The sudden new position in the Guard was obviously given to him to learn Skills and likely a direction in life. The Sergeant had directed him to follow my instructions. In contrast, his family had probably drilled proper Skill list habits into his head. The conflict was palpable. In a more confident man, I might worry about being assaulted. The desk was between us for a reason.

“I will, of course, provide a Magical Contract that will specify exactly the terms of what I can and can not do with your Skill list. This is how I normally handle the issue. You may still be uncomfortable with this, and I understand. Even my younger noble customers have had issues with it at times,” I said.

It was challenging to try and nod wisely, but I was making an effort. My manners were as if to say I could understand Baker’s upset but that it was clearly handled through the contract. Which it was, though I doubted Private Baker would know that. The Baron would also dislike the added costs.

Not that I cared.

My Writ made it clear he could request my services, but that didn’t change the cost of my services. They did not come cheap. There was a reason beyond scandal and fear that generally only the nobles and high-end merchants hired a Skill Trainer’s services. Once my collection of Magical Contracts was used up, I could imagine the Mage’s Guild would charge more. I would have to find some third party willing to purchase them, and that would add to the price.

At this, the man - the boy really - slumped into his seat.

“Even if you decide not to take advantage of my training. I can still provide assistance like the resistance training box and Skill advice,” I said, trying to subtly emphasize the advantage I was offering.

“Do you have any questions for me?” I asked while tilting my head ever so slightly. I wanted to seem professional, in control, and approachable. I wasn’t sure how well I did, but I was acting as hard as I ever had.

Even if I was annoyed with my disrupted life, I was excited to have a chance of plying my trade openly. At my count, I would have thirty-some men to train, each worth a sack of the Baron’s coins. That was nearly two years worth of training I could accomplish in a few short months. That would be profitable for both my Skills and my finances.

“I…” Baker stumbled, his teeth chewing on his lips as he tried to decide how, or even if, he should ask his questions. I just remained placidly calm and smiling, maybe leaning forward slightly to indicate interest.

Acting has increased to 21.

I let the Skill increase roll through my mind and passed, ignored while I focused on the young man before me.

Private Baker suddenly leaned on the desk as he gripped it tightly, desperation breaking through his fear.

“I’ve tried everything. I can’t bake. I can’t cook. I’m terrible with the guests. The animals don’t like me and I don’t like them. None of the crafters will take me. My uncle says that as long as I follow orders I can be a Guard, but what do I do when we go to fight? I’ve only got the one skill, and it’s not going to help me in war!” Baker said in a rush, his voice dropping into a hush at the end.

I smiled at the boy. As patronizing as it was, he was clearly a boy to my eyes no matter how close we were in age. The trajectory of my life was set nearly at birth, and I grasped it with both hands. More than once, while growing up, I had to be forced into relaxing instead of study and practice. Baker had likely never had such self-motivation and probably even less guidance.

Ignoring his outburst, I asked, “What Skill do you have?”

Collapsing back into his chair, Baker sighed and avoided my eyes.

“[Storytelling]”

I let his answer sit silently for a moment, then smiled even if the young man wasn’t paying attention.

“Bonuses to verbal skills and especially cadence for emotional impact. Advantages when recalling details. Now that could be interesting.”

My response confused young Baker. I could well understand. He probably gained his Skill from listening to tall tales and then repeating them for his friends. It wasn’t a combat-related Skill, but it could be useful for a scout or a spy. If he learned to [Draw] or had a Skill with a musical instrument, he could even manage as a minstrel or bard. If he made a name for himself with the Guard, I could see the Sergeant trying to slip him into the court as a Crier for the Baron. That might even be what the Sergeant was thinking.

The Baron didn’t have a Crier at the moment, but Baker wouldn’t be able to fill the slot for years yet. A Crier was a low ranking official of the court. There was virtually zero chance of Baker gaining the position as he was. Still, it was likely that it would be years before a noble had a spare son with a related Skill that could fill the spot. The Baron was the highest noble in the area, but he was only slightly higher than a landed knight. The other nobles in the area were without lands or with reduced titles or suffered under some plight that left them below the Baron’s banner. That left the Baron understaffed in many ways, though the fertile farmlands and the mountain mines kept him in coin.

Ignoring the confused and hopeful look, I continued my polite interrogation.

“Is there anything you enjoy? It doesn’t matter if the Skill would be useful. What do you like?” I asked.

This confused Baker even more. The idea of deciding what you like and working towards [Skills] from there was alien. Usually, things flowed in the other direction. You would be assigned a goal or a profession, and then you would strive for the Skills. If you were lucky, you succeeded and gained a trade for life, or you silently suffered with what Skills you could achieve. The less successful would become destitute or driven to crime.

“I like the forest?” Baker said in a questioning tone.

Nodding, I mentally tagged Baker as scout material. Skills often followed the things people liked to do. I would be surprised if Baker didn’t gain something involving hiking or trailblazing. Being a city boy, it was likely that he just never had much of a chance to shine. Though, all of that would depend on getting him out in the woods and messing about. The Guard would do that before the season started, but I might mention to the Sergeant to send his nephew out earlier.

“That offers us interesting options in the future, and I already have an idea of what we can try,” I said while rising from my chair.

I walked the confused Private towards the door as I continued, “I will have a Magical Contract for you later. If you could, when you return to the rest, send one of them to my office so I can interview them? I’ll try to get through everyone as I can, but it should take a few days before I can get back to you with advice.”

The sudden removal from my office clearly confused the Private. The perplexed Guard’s hand hovered in the air before dropping to his side as I closed the door. Returning to my desk, I plopped down and rubbed my head. The pain spiked through my eyes and down my spine, then calmed to a gentle pulse as I waited for the next Guard. I would continue to ignore the emotions and the pain of using [Meditation].

The beat of my heart echoing in my ears told me that I wouldn’t be ignoring it for much longer.