I sat by the hearth fire that next morning after I got my notebook and stared at what was in it from the night before. Names and words in my writing followed by local writing. They looked almost the same to my still sleepy brain. Sure, the formations were different but when I looked at Tyrech written in Vazack script and how she had written her name it was like I was seeing the same side by side. I understood the letters without having to think on them. Was it my new skill? This was far more than just instincts nudging me along in the woods. This was like someone downloaded a translator in my head and set me loose.

  Opening up a new page I quickly wrote every letter on its own line from what I’d copied down the night before. I could sound each out, even from words I didn’t quite know yet. For a guide, just in case this weirdness was temporary, I jotted down each letter in Vazack that closely matched the letter in local. I switched to a new page and without referencing the first, just the second, I started writing down local words such as ‘Chicken’ and ‘Fish’ and a few others just based on the letters I had learned on the second page. I could see that I had gotten them right from looking back at the first page. But that wasn’t a real test, maybe I just remembered without thinking about it.

  On the third page I jotted down words that I felt I understood using the letters of the local script. They looked right to me but I would have to consult someone who could read it. Ryan or Tyrech, since I didn’t think I should just show this to a random stranger.

  “Ramjack learn good.” Hestern praised as she and Lemet brought food to the breakfast table and waved me over. “Write… Learn. Eat now.” I think she was calling me smart but I was uncertain if that was the right word. I quickly wrote what I heard down though and headed to the table.

  “Thank you. I write. Learn words, make money. Thank you. Food, sleep good. Give money you Thank you.” I still felt a little strange to speak in such a halting fashion but I had a lot of words to learn and only wanted to use the ones I knew well enough, and practice them often.

  Breakfast was fish and rice for the most part. Lightly cooked with a sauce that was a bit spicy but quiet enjoyable. It was the same every morning, and I had the biggest portion. That part made me feel a little bad but I hoped the wages I shared with them paid for my portion. There was something else I felt I could do, if I had time and they had interest.

  “Teach you write?” I offered, “Understand write.” I pulled open the book after I’d finished eating and showed them. Lemet peered doubtfully at the page.

  “You no speak all.” He said slowly, “Can read?” Even if Hestern had just praised me for it it seemed her husband was more of the disbelieving sort.

  “Can” I acknowledged. “Teach tonight?” I was mostly certain I had gotten the letters down right but I still needed to check with Ryan and Tyrech about it. Still, if helping my hosts learn to read was something they wanted I would gladly teach them since they had helped me learn to speak to begin with.

  ———

  While at the butchery that morning I paid more attention to the signs around. I tried to sound out what I believed the letters to be based on the notes I had taken before breakfast. While I didn’t know most of the words there were a few I did. ‘Chicken’ and ‘Fish’ once again were the most obvious. But there were others. There was a flowing water basin that I had always taken for granted when I used it by the door. There was a small wood sign over it that I could read as ‘Wash’ and a few other words including ‘Hands’. Everyone who worked here used it before and after work.

  As I got into my cutting and plucking rhythm my mind swirled with the happy thoughts of learning new written words. This was going to make my first real goal come true much faster than I would have dreamed of. Of course things had changed a bit since I made that list. Socializing with more than just Hestern and Lemet, getting the book and charcoal. Even the new clothing was more than just what I had listed. The parts of my old robe not used as rags had become a pouch for carrying things since the hide one was a bit much. That one had been serviceable in the woods but here it was more just an uncured hide that was starting to rot. I think it was only being left where it was in the house because of me. What I should buy next, before I get ready to move out, was a real pouch for carrying. Then I could give all of that old robe for rags and be done with it. And dispose of the bag I had made.

  So that is where I went after the butchers. I had a better idea of the price of things now. At least when it came to food and how much I could make in a day at the sort of jobs I did. I didn’t have much but if I could gauge the general prices of things maybe I could save more of my money for it. That reminded me that while I knew what the letters were now I didn’t know which numbers were what yet, let alone mathematical symbols. I would need those to keep track of my money better.

  I had my notebook open and was taking down the names of the shops I knew with how they were written. ‘The Inky Quill’, ‘The Clattering Crossroads’ and a few others I had picked up on. And as I was noting them down I came upon the first shop I had bought from when I got here, ‘The Crested Covering’ was on the sign. I paused outside it. I could use another outfit and it was possible they had better bags but I wasn’t sure if the clerk liked me. Well, at least I could understand them better now. And I had more money even after the book and the night out.

  Taking a deep breath I went inside, spotting the same clerk as before. At least I was pretty sure, since I didn’t see many of that kind around this part of the city. Tall, graceful, with a long head crest that narrowed for a while as it went back. Their frill seemed to fan up when they saw me. “… you…” They muttered, “… money..” And eyed me once more. The way they spoke made me think they didn’t expect me to have learned any more of the language since my last trip in here.

  “Hello.” I tried to be polite regardless, “Yes, I have money.” While I hadn’t gotten most of the words they said I was pretty sure about the sentiment. “I need clothing.” And the rattled my pouch “Bag?” And reached in for some of the money it carried. I didn’t want to bring it all out just in case they decided to up charge me.

  The clerk came out from behind the counter and looked carefully at the money. They seemed to sigh again, looked around the shop and gestured at the back wall. “… there. Clothing…. No bag.” Either I couldn’t afford the second item I mentioned or they didn’t carry those here. No worries. A second set of clothing would do me good since my old robe was useless for that job now. The blue toga I had on was serviceable but it seemed that was not the only sort of clothing found here. Just one that matched my body type best. Or so I believed. I didn’t really see this style of clothing out on the street. Most wore some kind of pants with either a tunic or a robe over it.

  I got the feeling that the racks on this wall were the cheapest, perhaps out of date clothing. No matter, that sort of thing served me well and even back home I didn’t really care about fashion. Full pants were not made for me. A talloni could probably wear them but our legs bent too far for such leg coverings. However, some of the shorter kind could serve best as under coverings, especially one that was of some stretchy and soft material.

  “How much?” I asked politely.

  “10 copper” They replied. I wish I had a better frame of reference. That was as much as a dinner out, but less than I think I paid for the robe I was wearing. I counted it out, handing it to the clerk before continuing my searching. I had a bit more so I turned to another toga, knowing I could fit into one of those. This one was brown in color. And gestured, “How much?”

  “20” the clerk said without hesitation. I couldn’t remember if that was how much I spent last time I was here on the same product. It felt, expensive. So I wrote a quick note after paying, in Vazack numbers, what I had paid for each item. And it cleaned me out too but it was worth it to have a second set of usable clothes and undergarment.

  ———

  That afternoon, during a lull in the warehouse work, I opened the notebook in front of Tyrech and asked her to just repeat each of the letters I had written down. She seemed surprised that I had gotten so much already. “Ramjack… learn..” Saying a word that I was pretty sure meant fast. “Yes letters” she affirmed and then tapped some of the words I had written on the next page just from sounding them out “Good…. Learn?”

  While I was still processing what she was saying I took from it the following: She was surprised I could learn letters that fast. That I was understanding very quickly and that I had learned to write. Also, I figured out after a few brushes of her hand along my arm and some of the looks she gave me that she was flirting. Some things didn’t need words, and I knew a few things about the talloni, they were affectionate, forward with letting one know if they were interested without being pushy about it, and on a high compatibility scale with my own species. If you must know it was always a question when new alien races were contacted throughout the known universe, what sort of compatibility were they. Could they live in the same place? Could they eat the same food? Could they show each other physical affection without lasting harm? Most races couldn’t but for those very few where it was yes to all three well, they got on each others lists and things happened.

  While I was an adult, I was also young and inexperienced outside of simulations. Thankfully such simulations had included a member of her species so when she encouraged me to a more private setting after work we had some rather interesting fun, together. More unexpected things not on the list I had made for myself. It wasn’t a one off nor a routine, just something that happened sometimes over the next month.

  The only thing I had made a habit of was that each day at breakfast I would help Hestern and Lemet with letters. I even leveled up [Chronicler] again gained a skill called [Insightful Teaching]. It seemed to help me with my own writing by teaching them, and aiding in my pronouncing of same. I didn’t have enough materials to work from though. I did find a book store but printed books were more than I could afford, so I continued to copy down shop names, menus, and what signs I could find.

  It was at the end of that month, during an extended walk around the city into areas that seemed a bit more affluent but still welcoming to those of us who lived near and worked in warehouses, that I found a library. It was so much bigger than the one book shop I’d found. My brown toga did not look so out of place given the dress of the people at the tables either. Muted colors, lots of white, brown and beige. Each had at least one book they were studying with some writing in notebooks not too dissimilar to my own.

  Behind a large desk a small creature sat. It looked like one I knew for the most part, like a mardor, only with more body fur. I’d never met one but I did know most of the compatible races in the Alliance. They were a small four-legged mammal species with most of the fur on their large flat tails and spares body hair otherwise. This looked like one of those but with the fur covering the whole body and not just the tail. It sat on its hind legs on a stool and was busy sorting books on the counter. Looking up from its work it tilted its head at me and asked. “Are you a member here?”

  “No… I just have been looking for more books. To learn from.”

  “New to Dacathus? Well, we do not let non residence check out books.”

  “I’ve actually been here for a month. Been staying down in the trade ward.”

  The librarian furrowed their brow. “Really?” They had shallow whiskers, much like myself, and pawed at them. “Well, you will need to fill out forms but you will still not be able to check books out unless you become a citizen.” The mardor turned to a cubby behind them strewn with papers, and grabbed one out. They plucked a slimmer charcoal than the one I’d recently replaced and handed it to me with the paper. “Fill this out and I will let you have access to this floor.”

  I leaned down on the desk, diligently filling out information. Mostly it asked for my name, a current place of residence, and a tiny sample of blood. I nearly balked at that one, only looking up once I’d filled out the rest. “Blood? Why?”

  The librarian looked at me with coal-black eyes. “You look like you have a nose as good as mine on your face. Why do you think?”

  I touched it and laughed, brushing back my own short whiskers. “If I steal a book you can track me down by the scent.” I delighted in speaking in full sentences these days. I still mostly thought in vazack but I could translate local, just called common, to not seem as out of place as I had coming into the city to begin with. A small, thankfully clean knife was offered and I put a drop of my blood into the section of the paper that asked for it before giving them back to the librarian.

  “Alright then. Aness…” I held up a hand at that.

  “Ramjack is my given name.”

  “How strange.. You should have just written that then.”

  “It is the name I gave at the gates.”

  “How considerate.” The librarian jotted something down on a smaller bit of paper and presented it to me. “Here you are. Keep this one your person and if I am not on duty show it to the next librarian to be allowed entry to the study rooms. You do not have check out privileges and I hope I do not need to remind you how to conduct yourself around books.”

  I still had more words to learn and perhaps that isn’t exactly what they said but I had learned a lot since coming to Dacathus that tone and attitude were even more vital to meaning than the words themselves.

  With access to the library I quickly gained new words. My first day there after wandering around the stacks I had access to I found a reference section and the thing that would be most important to me, a dictionary. I didn’t sit down and read it all at once or anything. Instead, I grabbed another book that I didn’t understand and sat down with it and the dictionary.

  I gave up my job at the butchery, only continuing at the warehouse in the afternoon so I could spend each morning at the library. It cut down on my funds but was worth it as I was learning not just the words but things about the world.

  It was a week into my studies that I finally found information I had been unwilling to ask anyone about. The levels. I first found reference to it in a book that dealt with religious discussion and gods, talking about their [Divining] class that they instilled in their clerics. That lead me to another book. “Known Classes, Skills and Their Effects”. I sat down with that book, the dictionary, and my notes and started to research. It was something between a religious book and a science journal, documenting things as they were understood but with more theory and experimentation. This wasn’t a thing that effected me alone I was pleased to see. Nor was it a taboo subject. Classes existed here in the same way that exercise would generate muscles. If you did certain things, especially once you reached puberty, it might generate a class. Work in itself wasn’t going to do that. There weren’t such things as a [Farmer] or [Bartender] class but a farmer might have [Survival] levels and a bartender might have [Mixer] as their class. But so could an alchemist. There were some jobs out there where the classes overlapped. [Cook] for example was a thing, but [Cook] skills could also lend themselves to pottery.

  I looked at my classes in my notes, realizing I had three. Not so rare. The more I read of the book, relying on the dictionary for new words, the more I understood that classes sometimes merged and that there was no one size fits all formula. Sometimes they relied on the skills that were chosen, when offered from dreams. Not all my skills, or even my classes for that matter, were offered. And none of them came out of nowhere. It was what I needed to survive at first, and then what I was teaching myself to aid in same. I didn’t level at all simply from working but what I already had was helpful there. The book did say that training oneself with various skills might provoke class offerings, and that there were some skills at higher levels that transcend normal ability. Magic.

  I had encountered magic at the gates, that translator. At least I assumed it was since I didn’t see evidence of the level of technology that would do the same. I mean there was a point where it would be impossible to tell apart the two anyway so magic was a good word to use. Funny enough though advanced skills were not listed in the same way as magic was when I looked a bit deeper. Nor were such abilities simply divine in nature according to the book. Magic could be countered or unwound but there was no universal counter or dispel for class born skills hence their classification as something other. By the same right while some advanced skills could cut through some kinds of magic there was no universal magic protection or deterrent skill either.

  I thought about what that might mean. Maybe it was like something from my alien technological history class. Different words and civilizations progressed in different ways. Some used stone, then metal, then plastics. Others stone then glass. But some focused more or biological systems. A metal and plastic based tech didn’t always mesh with a biocomputer after all. You needed bridges, not unlike VR neurolinks. Maybe magic and this class system worked much like that. Not separate though but they didn’t interfere with each other, only enhanced in places like the neurolinks did.

  I was in the middle of class research when I had the significant dream again. What I had come to think of as a ‘Skill Tree’ examination. This time though, rather than being out in the woods looking at a boulder I was alone in the library looking at a table. Again, three objects lay upon it. One was my notebook, but there was glowing text upon it. Another was a strange book with pages of various kinds half sticking out, bound in a variety of materials. The third was a writing implement made of metal but bound in easy to grip leather. I stared at my choices, wondering what each represented for me.

  The notebook looked powerful and flashy with the glowing, shifting words on it. Much like a tablet I might have used back home just for school assignment or writing. The book next to it, I felt like if I took that I would know things that I could learn on my own given time. The stylus though, that interested me most of all. I had never used one but I saw several of the people in the library using them in their own work. It was a far better implement than the charcoal I could afford. And it represented what I did even before coming here, writing. So that is what I took.

  [Chronicler] level 4. Skill [In Your Own Words] gained.