“My shoe!” Carrick said when we finally found him. “You look healthy. That'll have to change.”

  Looking at his feet, he didn’t have shoes on at the moment. He didn’t have a shirt on either. He looked taller than the last time I saw him, but that might be my imagination. Given our previous encounter, where I couldn't help but laugh at him, he was clearly still holding a grudge. It was crucial to make a positive impression, so I decided to approach and introduce myself.

  Advancing with an outstretched hand, I greeted, “Hello, my name is... Oof!” In an unexpected move, Carrick's foot met my chest, launching me backward into the dirt. The surprise kick left me winded, struggling for air on the ground.

  “Your name is Shoe. I am the teacher here, and from the word around town, I am your last hope. So, Shoe.” He stretched that word out. “You will do as I say when I say, or else I will have to remind you of your name.”

  Once I got my breath and was able to stand up, I said, “My name is Alf.”

  At this declaration, Kaylie smiled and made her way to a nearby rock. As she settled down, her fingers deftly began weaving strands of her hair into a braid, the motion fluid and unhurried. “This should be entertaining,” she said with a smirk, her eyes flicking between the two. “You two wrestling around is going to be hotter than a bonfire.”

  “Maybe this Shoe will try to wrestle around, but as you know, I have been called the greatest warrior of my time. This Shoe will be no challenge for me.”

  “Who calls you the greatest warrior of your time?” I asked, actually curious if he was the best warrior here.

  “Were you not listening? I just said it,” the shirtless man said, standing as his muscles flexed as if he were on stage at a bodybuilding competition. It was tough not to comment on it, as Kaylie and I were the only ones here. “Well, Shoe, my name is Carrick. I am guessing you are a slow learner, but don’t worry, I am a patient teacher,” he said before swiftly closing the distance, entering my defensive space.

  This time, I was ready. I moved to block a punch aimed at my stomach, but he cleverly shifted his momentum to his legs, spun around, and swept my feet from under me. He then stepped back, giving me room.

  “What was your name again?” he taunted, a smirk in his voice.

  Kaylie's grin was so wide it looked like it might split her face. It seemed like she enjoyed him torturing me.

  Carrick glanced at her, his smile broadening, obviously enjoying the attention.

  That was my opening. I got to one knee, pushed off with my legs, and rushed toward him.

  He kept looking the other way until he turned at the last moment, and as I put my arms around him, he brought an elbow down on my head and turned his body. My momentum kept pulling me forward until my face slammed into the grass.

  I was dazed, and where I landed may have been grass, but it was hard enough to hurt. He ignored me while I tried to get up again.

  When I was able to stand, I proclaimed, “My name is Alf!”

  This time, he faced me with a grin. “Are you sure? Given how much time you spend on the ground, I was convinced you were my Shoe.” He paused, then added, “Oh, wait. Considering you've been on your back so much, maybe thespian fits better.”

  Rabbit intervened, “I believe the word he was looking for was some type of actor. However, as in the current day, actors aren’t synonymous with... other professions. Well, maybe, but just in a different way. Anyways, I thought I would translate it to the Old English word of thespian because the joke works much better that way.”

  “Thanks for the history lesson, but right now, I’m in the middle of something,” I replied in my head.

  “Ah, yes, your mating ritual where you are lying on your back for this big man,” Rabbit replied.

  “Oh, come on, not you too,” I groaned inwardly.

  “Carrick, he has had enough. He is already zoning out. Look at him staring off,” Kaylie pointed out, observing my distant gaze. Unfortunately, talking to Rabbit was a little faster than a normal conversation, but not quite at the speed of thought.

  With a sigh, Carrick conceded, “I guess you’re right. He is just a fragile Elf. You can take him back to Sophia, and she can figure out what to do with him.”

  “All you did was end up proving to him you were weaker than he previously thought. My only advice is to prove to him you can take a punch because you can’t win this fight,” Rabbit proposed.

  “I’m not only going to prove to him I’m not fragile, I’m also going to win this fight,” I told Rabbit with all the confidence that ignorance brought.

  I rushed toward Carrick with a punch straight for his face. He quickly and easily dodged. I followed up with another strike, and he turned away from the blow.

  Carrick spoke, “I am done fighting you. If you don’t stop, I’m going to stomp you into the ground.”

  I didn’t let up.

  “I'm finished fighting. Stop now, or I'll have to put you down,” Carrick warned, his patience wearing thin. I ignored his warning and continued my onslaught, throwing punches in a futile effort to make contact. He was always just out of reach, each move calculated, leaving me feeling perpetually a step behind. Suddenly, Carrick seized one of my punches, using my momentum to draw me in. Then, he delivered a knee to my abdomen, the piercing pain in my chest suggesting he had fractured a few ribs.

  “Come on, kid. Let's go,” Kaylie urged, no longer smiling and only looking worried. But I was undaunted, scrambling to my feet to launch into another assault, refusing to acknowledge defeat.

  Carrick's next move was to evade my punch, only to counter with a sharp elbow to my face. The pain was immediate and overwhelming, disproportionate to the blow itself. My hands flew to my face in an instinctive attempt to shield myself, leaving my abdomen exposed for a brutal three-hit combination. Reeling from the impact, I was left vulnerable as Carrick targeted my already-fractured ribs with precise hits.

  “Kid, you're on a dangerous path. Let's leave. He's not going to teach you anything,” Kaylie interjected, her voice tinged with genuine concern. Her hands, which had been braiding her hair, stilled, leaving the braid unfinished as she abandoned the task, her focus now entirely on the situation.

  “That’s right, child. Go with your mother,” Carrick taunted, his voice dripping with condescension.

  There I was, kneeling on the ground, blood trickling from my nose, tears staining my cheeks, my body marred with scrapes and possibly suffering from internal injuries. I bore an intense pain simply breathing. In stark contrast, Carrick stood unscathed, his shirtless form towering above me.

  If I were going down, I was determined to inflict some harm on him. I had reached a point where I had nothing left to lose. If I returned to Sophia in this state, my fate would have been sealed regardless. So, I might as well strive to bring this overbearing jerk down with me.

  I lunged for one of his legs, and instead of retreating like I expected, he moved the foot right into my face. With my already broken nose, the pain was excruciating. I screamed, but I was able to wrap my arms around his leg and hold on through the whole kick.

  Clenching onto his leg, I resorted to the only action I thought could cause him any discomfort.

  “Ouch! Did you bite me?” Carrick asked.

  I maintained my grip, locking my jaw around his leg, refusing to release him. I was not going to let go. That was when I realized Carrick’s real power. He leaned down and hit my head with enough force to crack my skull.

  On Earth, if you struck any part of someone’s skull with all your might, that skull would be perfectly intact, and that other person’s hand would be broken. Carrick struck me solidly enough to be a car hitting me at high speed. His powerful strike sent my head crashing into the ground with such force that it bounced back, plunging me into immediate unconsciousness.

  Regaining consciousness, I felt as if no time had passed since I was knocked out. Dusk had settled around me, casting a fading light over the surroundings. I was in the same spot where I had fallen, but by then Carrick was sitting where Kaylie had been. His clothes were noticeably different, marked by a shift from blue to red shorts. Even with that change, he still wasn’t wearing a shirt. Did he not own one?

  “You're awake. That's good.” Carrick's voice broke through my wandering thoughts.

  As I stirred, testing the limits of my aches and pains, I found the expected agony gone, save for a lingering headache that pulsed with every movement.

  “What happened? Did you heal me?” I inquired, puzzled by my state.

  Carrick's response was one of unexpected, genuine, and hearty laughter. It was difficult to align this image with the towering bodybuilder who had just beaten me to a pulp.

  “After you bit me? No. That was genuinely painful. There wasn’t much you could do to hurt me. It was like a child fighting an adult. The only thing that would hurt someone in that situation would be to bite them.”

  As Carrick talked, his arrogance made me frown more and more.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “So, I've been lying here, healing on my own? No one bothered to assist me? How long was I unconscious?” My voice rose, teetering on the edge of a shout.

  “Ease up. Remember, you are the one who attacked me. I may have provoked you, but you were horribly outmatched. And, if you recall, both Kaylie and I suggested you leave with her.”

  Looking back, after the adrenaline wore off and my head cleared, I remembered them advising me to back down. Aside from that first kick, I had been the one doing the attacking. Even so, I still felt justified in my actions.

  “Your recovery was remarkable,” Carrick continued. “After treating my leg from your bite, thanks for that, by the way, we returned with a healer. By then, you had nearly recovered. The primary concern was the injury to your head, which could have been fatal. He stated that he couldn’t do anything about that and that only a master healer would be helpful.

  “As you probably didn’t want Sophia getting involved, I decided to see if you would heal on your own. It took the rest of the day, but eventually your head recovered. Unfortunately, your face still looks as ugly as when we first met.”

  “I have been out most of the day?” I asked, confused. My healing was neither immediate nor slow. If I were in a fight, it wouldn’t help, as the longest it took me to heal so far was around ten minutes for broken bones. I assumed it was because my brain was damaged that it took much longer to recover this time.

  “That is correct,” Carrick replied, extending his hand toward me. I eyed it warily, recalling our last encounter that ended with his foot in my chest. “Listen, no hard feelings. I admit, almost killing you was a bit extreme. Sure, your bite was painful, and I might have overreacted given your...lack of strength.” Man, this guy was bad with apologies, if that was what this was. “But keeping this much awesomeness bottled up is hard. It’s bound to spill over once in a while. Well, what I am trying to say is, you were kind of a dick, and I was less than pure awesome for a moment. How about we call it even?”

  Mulling it over, I realized Carrick's awkward attempt at an apology was likely the best I would receive from him. Hesitantly, I extended my hand to shake his. The handshake turned awkward when he grasped my wrist instead, but we managed to make it work.

  “Alright, Carrick, we're even,” I conceded. “Now, I need to find Kaylie and return to Sophia.”

  “I'll still call you Shoe if you keep getting trampled,” he quipped, suggesting my nickname wasn't going anywhere soon. “But forget about searching for Kaylie. I've decided to train you. You lack skills and technique, but you possess heart and tenacity.” He chuckled, then added, “Well, heart, at least. Your ability to heal is also intriguing. I have heard of Grey Elves regenerating over a week from near death. But to be almost healed so quickly and from a wound that most healers wouldn’t touch, I would say that would make you a good fighter.”

  At that, I cheered up a little bit. It was the first glimpse of recognition I had since I arrived in this world.

  “Well, not a good fighter but, at least a good bleeder.” Carrick put his hand on his chin and continued, “Yeah, a good bleeder. You can take a hit and some cuts. You will probably always lose, but that’s not the point. You will end up getting back up later. Eventually, maybe you’ll learn enough not to lose all the time. That’s probably too hopeful, though.”

  Who was he talking to?

  My mood plummeted after that comment. I ended up cutting him off. “Okay, Carrick. What now? Do I wax on and off? I think I’m starving to death.”

  “You now must call me teacher, and you have no need for a candle shop,” he said with a raised eyebrow, as if questioning whether my head injury had healed correctly. He must have misunderstood my comment about wax. “The next thing we do is train you and level you. At the age of twelve, everyone in this village must get up to at least the level of 10.”

  “So, you’re level 10?” I questioned.

  “No, I'm significantly beyond level 10. I'm a warrior, after all. Our tradespeople might hover around level 10, as they seldom venture out for more experience. I, on the other hand, am often battling beast and man alike. For you, we will do the same. We are going to level you to 10 with my help and train you how to fight.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to increase my main level up to 10 and then increase something like my sword skill or archery skill higher?” I replied.

  “No. Skills like that increase your damage, defense, or such. Those don’t teach you anything necessarily practical. You need understanding to increase the level, but that is a different understanding from what I am teaching. I am going to teach you actual forms and ways to fight. After we get you to level 10, you could go into the woods and fight something simple with your sword for the rest of your life, and with the right mindset, get a high sword skill. Even so, that wouldn’t teach you how to use the weapon properly. You need to understand how others might attack you and how you will respond. Those aren’t the same things as levels. The reason we increase your level is to help you become stronger. Just think how much stronger or faster a level 10 person is compared to a level 1 person.”

  “I'm confused. So, you're saying that achieving a higher level depends on having the right mindset and gaining enough experience through battles? But the type of learning you're offering isn't the same as what's required for leveling up?”

  “Correct. Consider the example of a logger. To be effective, you must know exactly where to hit the tree, predict the direction it will fall, and ensure it doesn't splinter. This won’t make you chop faster or stronger, but it’s good practical knowledge. Yet, to enhance your logging skill, you need to engage with your actions fully.”

  “He's chopping down a tree, right?” I asked for clarification.

  “Indeed, but he must become the axe. He must immerse himself in the experience, questioning whether he is merely cutting or if he's splitting the wood. Is the wood resisting like a solid block against which he is the wedge, not just a blade? Does he embody sharpness, resilience, speed, and weight in his actions?”

  “So for raising skill level, it’s not the knowledge of the task that is needed but adopting the right mindset. What's the essence of the logger, then? Is he primarily splitting or cutting the wood?”

  Carrick gave a noncommittal shrug. “I'm not a logger, so I couldn't say. It's just an analogy.”

  I figured that wasn’t very useful for me since I had trouble with skills anyway. Instead, I focused my question on what was important. “If leveling up to 10 significantly enhances one's strength compared to being at level 1, why not aim for level 20 for even greater strength?”

  He hesitated, likely contemplating the best way to explain. “Good question. The reason is that advancing beyond level 10 requires significantly more experience. Our community supports the youth in reaching level 10 relatively quickly, focusing afterward on honing their specific craft. Achieving level 20 could potentially take eight times longer due to the steep increase in required experience.”

  Carrick paced around thoughtfully before adding, “Additionally, to gain higher experience, you have to fight more dangerous creatures. That is something we don’t want kids to experience quite yet. Besides, it might make sense to people who live as long as you, but Humans are short-lived. Spending time on getting to level 20 may not be worth it. Finally, while certain professions, like Logging, might gain considerably from higher levels, others, such as Sewing, wouldn’t need more strength.”

  All that fit well together, providing a clear rationale for the focus on reaching level 10. Just then, my hunger made itself known with a loud rumble.

  “Okay, child. Go get food. I will see you tomorrow morning for your training. Rest well, because this is the last chance you will get,” he said with a firm, stoic tone, and with that, he walked away.

  After Carrick's stern farewell, I began my walk back to the Great Hall, only to veer off once he was out of sight, aiming for the wall instead.

  “Where do you think you're going?” Rabbit's voice echoed in my head, tinged with curiosity.

  “I have an idea that might work,” I said. “If I could escape with some weapons and supplies, living outside might not be so bad. For now, we stay on the current path, but it's always smart to have a plan B.”

  “I get it, but escaping might not be as easy as you think. And really, where would you even go?”

  It took less than an hour to prove him right. The village was practically impregnable: a sheer vertical drop on one side, an equally unscalable cliff on the other, a well-guarded wall, and a river that led right off the cliff.

  “If you steal from them, they’ll track you down and maybe even kill you. Even if Carrick was weighed down by a shirt, I doubt you’d outrun him,” Rabbit said.

  Frustrated, I headed back to the Great Hall to get some food. I sat by myself trying to think of a good way to escape and talking with Rabbit. He was no help and only frustrated me more.

  Once my plate was empty, a part of me yearned for more. Yet, I restrained myself, not wanting to seem greedy, especially when the food was to be shared. Reflecting on it, Oliver Twist's request for more now seemed rather bold to me. If he got seconds, the other kids wouldn’t have gotten enough. I may have been far from a starving kid, but I had not been this hungry in a long time, and I savored every morsel with the intensity of a starving man.

  After I left, Rabbit attempted to start up a conversation again. “Do you think you are so hungry because you didn’t eat all day or because of your healing?”

  “I know what you are trying to do. You keep trying to distract me from figuring out how to escape. Instead, you should be using your intellect to figure out how to get out of here. What if Carrick stops teaching me? We need a backup plan.”

  “Fine, you want the truth. I have a plan to escape and to make sure no one will follow you.”

  “Really?” I said excitedly. “Give it to me.”

  “You promise not to use it unless your life is in danger? I think if you steal from these people and run away, you will end up regretting it for the rest of your short life,” Rabbit bargained.

  Admitting I had no better plan, I agreed to his terms.

  Rabbit then started telling me his plan. “It’s idiotic, but the only way. You know that lift near the jailhouse?”

  “The one with the archer on the wall? The archer who could easily kill me as I went down the lift?”

  “Yes, that one. And don’t be so dramatic. Think about his job. If someone were coming up the mountain or the lift, his job would be to kill them. He is protecting the village. Now, if instead someone was leaving, do you think he would try to kill them right away?”

  “Probably not, but that is a big gamble.”

  “And that is where the second part comes in. He will yell at you on the lift to stop once he notices. That's your cue to start dismantling the lift's platform. I've inspected it closely, and there are four crucial connections you'll need to sever. It's risky, but doable.”

  “And fall to my death?”

  “Possibly, but you're more likely to land in the waterfall below. Yes, it's dangerous, but it serves a dual purpose: securing your escape and ensuring they can't follow immediately. The lift operates on a counterweight system, and removing one side's weight will break the whole thing.”

  “And they would have to travel the whole mountain down to get to me.” I finished his thought. He was right that it was idiotic, but if I had no other choice, it was an opportunity to live.

  After that, I continued walking until I came across where most of the kids were playing games together. I stopped to watch for a minute as I didn’t have any real destination.

  One of the girls was pointing to a different person with each word as she started to sing her rhyme. This was her way of counting off, a method to select one of the playmates randomly.

  “Princess red will suck your blood,

  Run away and give her none,

  In her field she is the queen,

  Outside she doesn't mean anything,

  One two three you are it…”

  While I was lost in thought, observing the children's games, an older woman suddenly seized my arm. My immediate reaction was to pull away, but when I couldn’t, fear gripped me.

  Looking down, the source of this unexpected strength was a dainty woman, clad in a woolen dress of muted earth tones. She was the picture of unassuming simplicity and frailty. Yet, despite her small size and older age, her hand was like a vise on my arm. With a fierce pull, she dragged me aside, her voice sharp as she accused, “Get out of here, you baby murderer. We don’t want your kind here,” before forcefully pushing me to the ground.

  The shock of the impact jolted through me, a mix of pain and disbelief. Scrambling backward, I put distance between myself, the woman, and her unexpected hostility. I was confused, but I knew one thing: I wasn’t welcome there. I didn’t question the reasons, and I didn’t fight back. I fled as fast as I could.

  After that, I avoided people and headed straight to where I had confronted Carrick earlier. Eventually, I found a patch of lush, reasonably soft grass and reclined on it. A fallen log beside me served as a windbreak, its rough, bark-covered surface scratching every time I shifted. As I curled up on my natural bed, the cool dampness of the grass pressed against my skin.

  Inside, my thoughts churned. My mind kept circling the same questions. Should I stay? Should I go? Should I steal supplies and try escaping? Why would she think I killed babies?

  I didn’t have the answers. Only more questions.

  As they swirled through my head, exhaustion crept in, and I slowly drifted off to sleep.