I push, harder, harder, and once again, straining to push my limits to their utmost. Each step is painful agony, my stamina quickly being lost. There is a terrible feeling in my stomach, like someone placed a coal inside my body and it’s shaking around with each step I take, however I know it’s only a cramp.

I finally hit the mark I made, and come to a stop, breathing heavy. Each breath is painful, even. Ten sprints, the length of what I estimate to be about 100 meters, and I’m finally done with this for the morning.

I check my skill, Sprint (LV12), and find no level up, at least for today. However, each day makes a small bit of progress, and my increasing physical stats can finally see the result of my years of planning.

As I walk back inside to clean up, I ponder on my progress so far.

I’m five this year, keeping track of your age is easy when you have a monthly countdown to unlock your status page. I’m in no rush, though. If anything, I feel like I don’ have enough time. I’ve started training my body recently, with fairly small things. Sprinting, for one. I never did like running, and sprinting is almost worse, but I’d rather get it over and done with in a few minutes than run around the town for half a day. Anyone who chooses to do that must be a bit of a loon.

I asked Gramps about it, before I started, and he confirmed that running is a skill, and common among almost everyone who travels outside the small village. I quickly interrogated him for alternatives, among which was Sprint. I unlocked that skill the very next day.

It seems my Gramps might be some kind of hidden master. His knowledge of the world is fairly good for an old guy living on the outskirts of a small village. I asked him about it once, and he just laughed and said he grew up in a large city but found farming to be his passion and settled down out here. It turns out he’s the highest leveled farmer in the whole village, practically a pillar in the community. It’s hard to tell with people’s vitality all over the place, but while he looks old, I have no idea of his actual age.

I’m only glad to know he’s strong enough to protect our farm, as we live a little way from the village proper, on a large farm that he almost single handedly runs himself. He hires help for harvest and planting, but other than that, it’s all by himself. While we aren’t the furthest village out there, and there are a few other even smaller villages living closer to the more magical dense zones, we still get an occasional monster wondering in. All the villages are quite spread out, so lone monsters and small packs make their way to us sometimes. Of course, there are the ‘regular’ monsters that inhabit the surrounding forest, but they have learned to stay away for the most part.

It’s nice to have someone that can answer my questions. From even the scarce few times I’ve been into the village, I can tell anyone of those folks don’t have the faintest idea of what lies outside the village, other than stories. There are a few good families who moved out here to settle down away from the city life, but they aren’t quite as integrated and stick to themselves.

Today is one of those days we are heading into the village. For the most part, we completely take care of ourselves out here. We raise a few animals to keep meat around, stock up on food after harvests, and gather water from the stream running through the farm. There isn’t a big need for us to head into the city often. The last time Gramps headed out, he was cursing up a storm when he broke his hoe on a rock he didn’t see.

That might have been the most I’ve ever seen him talk outside of me asking him questions. We have a good time sitting on the porch, watching the fields, in perfect silence for hours. He smokes his pipe, and I meditate. I’ve known for a while that Gramps knows I’m weird, but we don’t talk about it. There is an unspoken understanding between us, somehow coming about without ever speaking of it, and we just continue to peacefully live our lives. I’ve taken to keeping the house clean, and doing a few of the inside chores, and he does his work outside.

I’m about to get a new skill, I think. Cooking. It does exist, but somehow it has avoided my attempts so far. Perhaps because our cooking utensils are one big pot and a knife that he uses to kill the animals. I’ll have to see if we can’t grab a few things while we are in town today. The bachelor life of Gramps is not for the faint of heart. I can see why my mother left, even if she is a good for nothing who left me to fend for myself on a farm out in the middle of nowhere at one year old.

“Alright, Dan, let’s head out.” Gramps called out to me from outside.

Right. My name is Dan. Nice to meet you. It apparently means something like ‘bump’, or ‘lump’ in this language. It is used as a slang term for being pregnant sometimes, and I guess my mother just couldn’t think of anything else. I’m happy with it. It’s simple, nothing pretentious.

I still get the feeling Gramps is laughing every time he calls my name though. I’ll have to put a few extra of those ‘special’ peppers in his soup again soon.

“Alright! I’m coming!” I reply, grabbing my small bag as I throw it over my shoulder. In it I keep a small knife, made from a piece of scrap and given to me last year. I don’t have much use for it other than cutting up ingredients so far, but it never hurts to bring it along.

If anything attacks us, I’d be more than useless, so I just have to trust that Gramps can take care of it. I did see him take out this bear like creature once, when it came up on our farm looking for a free meal.

Turns out it was a Karhu. And much, much larger up close than from when I first saw it in the distance. I quickly sized up the old man upon seeing he easily killed this creature, with a shovel. The shaft of which was now sticking out of its neck, wooden splinters everywhere. The crumpled end of the shovel thrown to the side, and a bit of blood covering his clothes and face.

We ate really good for the next few weeks, and I got to see a humongous bear skinned, gutted, and butchered right then and there. Too bad I was too small to help out at the time, not even able to lift it’s paw up.

We start walking along the cart path, beaten down by years of transporting the harvest into town. It’s a few miles to get there, and with my stamina and short legs, will take longer than usual for Gramps, especially after I just recovered a bit from my daily sprints.

As we walk down the path, I pull up my status screen, checking up on my progress and continuing to make plans for my future stat gains.

LV: 32 Experience: 12,078/27,544

Health: 130/130 Stamina: 80/120 Mana: 240/240

Vitality: 13

Endurance: 13

Strength: 10

Dexterity: 12

Senses: 116

Mind: 37

Magic: 24

Clarity: 23

Free Points: 310

Skills: Sense Mana (LV19), Meditation (LV32), Mathematics (LV46), Expel Mana (LV11), Drawing (LV5), Climbing (LV8), Sprint (LV12), Cleaning (LV10), Writing (LV2), Measurement (LV3), Mana Manipulation (LV1)

Other than my improving stats, my pride and glory is my newest skill, Mana Manipulation. Turns out it does exist. Gramps doesn’t know much about magic, unfortunately, but he has known a few mages in his day, apparently.

They keep more secrets than the nobles, he says, so good luck in getting anything out of them outside of a completely biased and unfair contract. That put quite the damper on my magic plans, but I’m not scared off quite yet. On the other hand, I don’t want to get snatched up by some greedy noble hearing about a magically talented child, so Gramps and I have agreed to keep this on the down low.

Still, it was much harder to get than I thought. I tried all sorts of methods, but finally managed to do enough to gain the skill during Meditation and practicing Expel Mana. There is a vortex of mana within everyone. There’s one inside me, at least. But through controlled breathing, continuous effort, and lots of time, it’s possible to affect that vortex enough to gain the skill.

Other than mana related skills, gaining Measurement made the world right again. Not having a standard unit of measure, for anything, is really annoying. Turns out people use a skill for that. Does everyone’s skill have the same units? I’m not sure yet. But this skill will become incredibly useful in my hands. Finally, finally, I can start to be more scientific about my progress. Timing my sprints, measuring distances, finding universal constants, the world is now my oyster.

Funnily enough, and according to Gramps’ information, I have about the same level as any average adult in their twenties. Levels are different for everyone, but the 30’s are pretty common for young men. It doesn’t seem like people get past Level 60 very often in small villages like this. I’m not sure of the experience curve yet, whether it will change or not at different benchmarks, but if the trend continues, the experience requirement for higher levels would keep anyone average below 60.

Whether I wanted to be or not, I’m an oddity. People don’t just have two Tier 3 skills before they even reach ten years of age. Or even 20. Maybe even 30 for some people. Some may never get any if they are particularly lazy.

I’m not sure how much experience is gained from fighting or crafting yet, but I can say from my calculations, skills are important. Huge. They will define how far someone can go in life, just by themselves. Without high skills, you can’t fight for experience. Without high skill levels, you won’t get any skills of a higher tier. It’s a positive cycle. Get skills, then get more skills. Using those skills, gain even more skills of a higher tier.

I can’t wait to get a Tier 4 skill. I’m completely confident I’ll get one at this rate.

It felt like only a few minutes had gone by, but we were already approaching the village walls. Large, vertical timbers with pointed ends formed a wall around the entirety of the village. It seemed a bit much in Earth standards, but in this world, it was both needed and not that difficult. With skills and superhuman strength, putting up simple walls like this wasn’t that hard. The gates were open, and we trudged on through, stepping in thick mud and ruts made from countless carts and bivols.

The village wasn’t incredibly large, but there was enough. We had a blacksmith, a few carpenters, a potter, butcher, tannery, and anything a small community might need. There were hunters that foraged the surrounding forest for wild game and edible foods, and lumberjacks that provided timber for the village. It was a shame they didn’t have flannel here, but other than that they looked every bit a roughneck, humongous axe and all.

Every now and then Gramps will get one to come out to the farm, and he selectively cuts a few trees. Their skills are impressive. I don’t know if I want to see what those axes can do to a person. At least for now, I’m living a peaceful life in the woods with Gramps, so there is an extremely low chance of that happening.

“Dan, you walk around a bit, while I order some supplies at Gunther’s.” Gramps told him, and then entered a store ran by Gunther. A general-purpose store carrying supplies for travelers and those who lived outside the village like us.

“Alrighty, Gramps. See ya.” I replied.

I haven’t gotten to walk around the town much, but I know most of the main layout.

Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and I’m spellbound as I see the world as if it were hundreds of years ago, by Earth standards. It’s quite interesting to see the people going about their day, shopping, working, walking to and fro, all in this one small place. Such a stark contrast to the spread-out metropolitan cities and global economy of my past life.

It’s nice. Perhaps some might despair at the lack of novelties and small-town nosiness, but I for one appreciate the tight knit community. People rely on one another to live, to survive, and to make it to the next year.

Suddenly, I see a gathering of people, crowded around. There is plenty of laughing, and some joking made at the expense of a kid flailing around on the ground. In particular, a few other kids are jumping up and down excitedly, laughing, and poking fun at the kid on the ground.

“When I get back on my feet, you lot are going to be sorry! You won’t be able to escape tomorrow!” The flailing kid screams out. I’m not sure what I’m looking at, so I gather around with everyone else.

Another kid replies, “Only if you can ever get back on your feet again! I think you might get stuck like this, at the rate you’re going!” He laughs merrily at his suffering friend.

“Markus, I swear, you are going to be the first one I beat up when I get back to normal!”

I think I’m starting to get the picture now, but I ask one of the adults standing nearby, “Sir, what’s going on?”

Thankfully, he seemed to be nice, and knew I must have never seen this before.

“Oh, this?” He laughed. “This is Eric’s Awakening Day. He turned ten today, meaning his status unlocked and he can distribute his free points. Have you never seen one happen before?”

“No sir. I live out with Gramps on the farm. You know, the big one a few miles from the village.” I replied.

“Oh you must the grandson, oh, I should say great grandson now, shouldn’t I? What’s your name, son?” He asked, smiling down at me.

“I’m Dan.” He guffawed.

“Of course. Shouldn’t have expected any different!” He seemed to get a great kick out of my name. He must have known my mother, judging by his reaction, or maybe an inside joke with Gramps.

“Oh. Did you know my good for nothing mother?” I ask him, completely sincerely.

That must have been too much for him because he starts to choke and cough.

“I’ll be! What makes you call your own mother that, son?” He finally manages to spit out.

“Well, she left me up there with Gramps for one. He’s great, but that place wasn’t really meant for a one-year-old. Just two summers ago a Karhu came up on the property, and Gramps had to kill it.” His eyes go a bit wide. “Also, she didn’t have a husband and I’m guessing she was messing around. No tellin’ who my dad is.”

A moment goes by, and I figure I can mess with this guy a bit, he seems relatively friendly.

I look at him with big eyes and feign surprise. “Wait, you aren’t my dad, are you?!”

His face turns red, and he starts spluttering, backing away unconsciously. It seems I got him pretty good. Maybe he DID fancy my mother, judging by the red on his face.

I break character and laugh. “Got you, old man! You should see your face!”

His eyes go wide and his jaw drops before indignation shows on his face. “Why, you little!”

Before he can come to terms with what just happened, I smirk at him and run off, around the other side of the crowd, hoping he loses vision of me in the crowd.

Man, I love being a kid. Being a baby was great, but this is rather good too. No responsibilities, and I can mess with people. What more could I ask for? Oh yeah, a Tier 4 Skill. I’d take one of those.

Hoping I don’t run into that man again, I walk around, window shopping. I’m not finding anything I want, when I spot an open door. Loud banging can be heard from the inside, and I’m almost positive it’s a blacksmith’s shop. I’ve always wanted to see one of those up close. I’ve never been able to walk around town on my own and haven’t had the chance. I look around, and no one is watching, so I just peek inside.

I don’t see anyone in the immediate area, so I decide to look around. The forge is glowing hot with red coals, and tools are hanging on almost every surface of the walls. There is the anvil, and a hammer resting on top, with tongs right beside it. I almost unconsciously begin walking towards them, and my hand is nearing the hammer.

“Woah! Boy, what are you doing?” A loud, booming voice yells out.

He just about scared the daylights out of me. I jumped half a foot in the air. I turn to face him and am forced to raise my head just to look at his face.

“Sorry sir, I was just looking around. I’ve always wanted to see what a blacksmith shop looks like. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” I replied.

“Don’t get too jumpy there, kid. It’s just dangerous in here, shouldn’t have left that door open I suppose. Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Dan. I live out on the big farm a few miles out of town with Gramps.” It’s funny, really. Everyone calls Gramps’ farm, that ‘big farm a few miles out of town’. Everyone knows who he is. Not many people choose to live outside the walls of the village, and not many have as much land to farm as he does either.

Come to think of it, I don’t even know Gramps’ name. Probably should figure that out at some point. I remember finding out my grandparents’ names for the first time in my first childhood. It sounded so strange to hear people calling them anything other than Grandpa, Pa, Gramps, or whatever. It’s the same as seeing your teacher in the store. It just shouldn’t happen. Their lives revolve around you and that’s that.

“Oh. So, you’re the kid. Haven’t seen you around the village before.”

I must have been the talk of the town for a while. I guess Gramps taking care of a one-year-old would be quite the gossip for a while.

“Yeah, I’ve been a couple times, but this is the first time I’ve been able to walk around on my own. Normally we just grab our supplies and leave right away.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him. Well, tell him I said to stop by sometime. Haven’t had a good chat with your Gramps in a long time.” He said, starting to move things around, in an obvious attempt to try to get back to work.

“Alright, but first, do you have any cooking utensils we could buy? Gramps only has one big pot, and practically nothing else. I can’t take another day of the same old soup.” I practically plead with him.

“Ayy. I have a few things. Go get your granddad and I’ll gather up a few things for you.”

Thankfully, I wouldn’t have to eat slop anymore. Not everything is meant to be boiled. I almost miss the days of breast feeding lately.

By the time we finally left the village, I had convinced him to buy quite a few extra things. He had plenty of money for a farmer, especially with the way he lived and his extensive lands, and I never asked for anything, so I didn’t have to pull his arm that much.

One thing I had to have, was paper. He had a small bit, I guess for marking yields or from past deals, but I had quickly gone through his supply. Using charcoal and wood only let my writing skill go so far. Now that I had learned the basics of the written language, I had plenty of plans to write down, spreadsheets to make, and a little written work would go a long way in improving my math skill. Only so much advanced mental math could be completed in a human brain. It was a great mental exercise, but still, I needed paper.

On the way back, I asked Gramps about the awakening I saw.

“Yeah, most kids tend to flail around the first day, all excited to drop their points into their attributes. It’s a pretty good show most of the time.”

“You’re saying that people just drop a ton of points into their attributes, and can’t even control their bodies for an entire day?”

That sounds like a nightmare.

“Why don’t they spread it out over a few days, or even weeks. I imagine it can’t be easy adapting to that many new points.”

“Some do. Most are too excited and put a good chunk down the first day they can. If they have good parents, they tend to keep a good amount of them free to put in later according to whatever apprenticeship they gain. To be fair, the new stats generally allow the kids to pick up skills extremely quick for a while afterwards. That’s why it’s the best time to gain an apprenticeship.”

No wonder. Ten years old always seemed to be a little young for apprenticeships to me, but if it’s correlated with skill gains, I could see the reasoning.

“Interesting. I’ll have to think about that.”

“You do that son. Just don’t hurt your head with all that thinking you do.”