2 Forged Resilience: The Craft of a Forgotten Heir
All training had stopped. Kylie no longer attended me. To say that I had become an outcast in my own home was a gross understatement.
During the last 5 years, three more siblings had been born, but now, even the older ones looked at me like I was deformed. While it bothered me, the beating that I would get from my fathers guard for kicking my brother's asses for mocking me stopped me from reacting. The only person I never saw any malice from was Elara. She always had a comforting smile, her tiny hands reaching out to me, oblivious to the whispers and sideway glances.
The only light in this dismal situation was my mother. She stood by me, fighting my corner to the best of her ability. However, sadly, she was but a queen in a kingdom where might was prized over everything else.
In the dim silence of my room, I stared at my status window.
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| Name: Gideon Von Alphonse Rose Vienerstien | HP: 240/240 | MP: 90/90 |
| Class: Master Craftsman | Level: 1 | Exp: 0/100 |
| Title: Returned Son | Resurrection Count: 1 |
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My stats hadn't changed in any significant way since being assigned my class. There was no opportunity for me to test my skills or to improve my stats.
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| Strength: 23 |
| Dexterity: 17 |
| Constitution: 24 |
| Intelligence: 9 |
| Wisdom: 30 |
| Charisma: 2 |
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My stats were good according to what I had appraised of some of my fathers lower ranked soldiers, even if the lowest rank was a level 5 up to 8. The problem was that all of them were at the intermediate level of Swordplay.
Not only were they more experienced than me, but they also had a whole team backing them, providing them with resources and opportunities to hone their skills. I didn't have the chance to practice my swordplay beyond the basic training my father had initially set up before everything...changed.
I glanced over my skill set.
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| Blacksmithing(Beginner): Level 1 |
| Survival(Beginner): Level 1 |
| Construction(Beginner): Level 1 |
| Masonry(Beginner): Level 1 |
| Swordplay(Beginner): Level 1 |
| Appraisal(Beginner): Level 1 |
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My skills were nothing more than beginner in all my fields. Even my strongest skill, construction, was undervalued in a world where combat abilities were coveted. The Master Craftsman title seemed laughable in this scenario.
However, something else caught my eye. Each time I leveled up a skill, there was a significant increase in the corresponding stat.
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| Class Abilities: |
| Craftsmen Knowledge: Learn any crafting skill from interacting with the Craft. |
| Tools Are My Trade: Gain skills and proficiency with skills that are connected to Skills you already have. |
| I Am Craftsman: Instead of receiving stats from leveling this class, all bonus's come from leveling Skills. |
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"Could that be the key?" I mumbled, pulling out my old, dusty instruction manual that contained information about class and skill abilities. I began to study the various facets of my class for the umpteenth time, hoping to glean something out of it.
Those nights spent reading, inspecting, and investigating led me to a revelation. While the world looked down upon any craftsman class as something only a poor person would get, I felt like my class of Master Craftsman was much different. From what I could tell, if I did anything with a crafting class, I could learn it. Not only that, but I would gain corresponding skills as I increased my level.
Or, that is what my class said. Unfortunately, I had not only been cut off from training and schooling, but also been confined to my room. It was almost like father didn't want to even know that I existed any more. Not even mother could bring me anything but books to pass my time.
I considered ripping apart things in my room, but the first time I had pulled apart the oil lamp in the room, I had gotten a severe beating from 5 guards that left me with no desire to pursue that avenue, even though I had gained a skill called Glass Making from it.
|Glass Making (Beginner): Level 1 | +2 Dex per level
It was indeed a door to new possibilities opened with it, but at the same time, I knew my limits. The beating was a brutal reminder of the profound loathe my father had towards me. It had become clear, to utilize my class, I'd need to tread carefully.
One day, my Grandfather, the retired king, visited me. His name was Heinrich Von Rose Vienerstien, and while his class was not publicly known, the respect and fear he wielded suggested he was formidable. Upon arriving, he handed me a package, his eyes twinkling with an unreadable look.
Upon opening the package, I saw a set of various materials in small quantities, copper, iron, magic-grained woods, pitch, and even pieces of what I deemed as Divinity Crystals. My eyes ached to absorb these precious resources. Then, came a little note written in my grandfather's elegant handwriting.
"Even a mighty sword starts as unassuming steel. Tell me, boy. Where did you come from?"
The question was like nothing I had even thought would be asked, and I remained silent.
I had considered trying to bring up my past, even before my visit to the CoC. The thing was that I had never assumed I would end up in a position like this. The idea to push my knowledge of my previous life had fallen flat thanks to my father. Like hell I would give this SOB something else to consider 'unfitting' about me. So, I simply stared into my grandfather's penetrating gaze and whispered, "Here, sir."
He nodded at my answer, before his lips curled into a hint of a smile. "That's good. Learn to use these materials wisely, Gideon. Explore your class's potential. Prove them wrong."
From then on, I quietly used the materials my grandfather had brought. Practice, create, improve, repeat. That became my mantra. It was painstakingly slow, but I persevered. Imagine being gifted a welding torch but only being able to practice in the dead of night, with minimal light, and only on small metallic trinkets so as to not make noise.
It took progressing from a small crude dagger to a sturdy and somewhat sharp blade for me to finally get a level in Blacksmithing.
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| Blacksmithing(Beginner): Level 2 | +2 Str, +1 Con per level
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I looked down at the blade in my hands, its simple form reflecting the dim light in my room. It wasn't much, but it was mine. And, with a glint in my eyes, I knew it was just a start.
I gave the blade a few slashes, but then stopped, feeling silly, but then a notification stopped me in my tracks.
|Dagger proficiency(Beginner): Level 1 | +1 Dex per 2 levels
Oh? No fucking way! I had just created a dagger, and swung it a few times, and bam! I have a proficiency for it?! WTF?
I quickly went through my skills, but then read my class more closely.
| Craftsmen Knowledge: Learn any crafting skill from interacting with the Craft. |
Now isn't that a SOB? Just think what my father would say? Fuck it, I am trash as far as he is concerned, but seriously. This was some cheat code bullshit.
before I could finish my thought there was a knock at my door.
"Gideon?" The voice of my mother called as she came into my room after a single knock. I had gotten used to people barging in, and expertly stuffed the dagger in my pants, but instantly regretted it.
The blade, though not razor-sharp, was more than enough to make me wince as it scraped against my thigh.
"Pants, found!" The message that flashed across my vision made no sense till I touched the spot where I had hidden my dagger, finding wetness. The improvised sheath had more than lived up to its name.
Ignoring the pain, I turned a calm face towards my mother. "Is something the matter, mother?" I asked, even when I could see the concern evident in her usually composed visage.
"Gideon," she wrung her hands together, a habit she carried when worried. "The King...your father, he's arranged a marriage for you."
You would think that I would be surprised by this, but I wasn't. Over the last 5 years, I had learned enough to know that my brothers and sisters would either take control of one of the other family's territories, or they would create their own branch of the family, and perhaps even their own kingdom. As for useless children like me, we had one of two options: serve as diplomatic tools by marrying into other powerful families or serve as the sacrificial lambs on the battlefield.
"Havenby…" I whispered, coming to recall the name of the kingdom in a diplomatic dispute with ours. The princess was said to be in her early twenties…at least she was older. As far as I was concerned, anything was better than being ignored and starved.
"Yes" Mother responded, her eyes ablaze. "Yet, even as your mother, I'm trapped amidst a rugged political agenda. I assure you I'll do everything in my power to refute this marriage."
I gave her a bitter smile, surprising us both. "No need, mother. It's fine. I've been wanting to get out of here for a while."
"Promise me you will stay true to yourself," she implored. "Promise me you'll never forget who you are."
As she exited, leaving me alone, I looked at my bloody pants, then my hands. "I will mother. It's time I learned who Gideon actually is." My eyes flashed in determination. I had gained a new purpose—to rise as Gideon Von Alphonse Rose Vienerstien, what a dumb fucking name.
