TALENT BEYOND LIMIT: Stacking Many Talents

Joe left Theodere’s office and headed toward the main training field.

Simon noticed him almost immediately.

”Joe! Over here.”

He waved with enough enthusiasm that several boys standing nearby turned to look.

Joe crossed the field.

Simon was surrounded by four or five trainees around his own age, most of whom Joe recognized vaguely from Green Hollow.

”This is my brother,” Simon announced before Joe reached them properly. ”He’s the other one from our house who passed yesterday. Very lucky, obviously. I think living with me for seven years finally helped him.”

One of the boys laughed.

Simon continued without hesitation.

”He’s clever too. Second cleverest person in our house, probably. I’ll let him decide who’s first after he’s been here for three years.”

Joe looked at him.

Simon grinned.

Joe greeted the others instead.

That earned another laugh, and Simon seemed satisfied enough with the result.

Most of the boys were trainees from Green Hollow, whom Simon had known for years. They asked Joe how strongly the testing stone had reacted, whether Hall had made him run much and whether the contract mark felt strange when it appeared.

Joe answered briefly.

The conversation moved on almost immediately.

Within moments, the boys were arguing about something that had happened during training the previous week, with Simon speaking often enough that Joe had no difficulty understanding his place in the group.

While they talked, Joe looked around.

The social divisions inside the Hall were much easier to see from within the compound.

A group of children stood near the far side of the training ground. Their clothing was noticeably better than what most Green Hollow families could afford, and many appeared healthier and better fed than village children of the same age.

Simon noticed where Joe was looking.

”Most of those are paying students. They come from other villages and settlements around here. Five silverlings every month just to train at the Hall, so if their families can keep paying that, they’re obviously not poor.”

Joe turned toward him.

”Five every month?”

”Yes, and that’s only the tuition. It doesn’t include medicine, equipment, extra food or anything else. Victor says one of the older boys spent more on training last year than Father probably sees in actual silver over several years.”

There was no open bitterness in Simon’s voice, but Joe could hear the frustration beneath the explanation.

Five silverlings each month was not money an ordinary farming household could spend casually.

Those children came from merchants, wealthier landowners, minor officials and other families with enough resources to purchase opportunities rather than simply hope they were born near one.

Even among children, those differences had already produced separate circles.

Joe found that unsurprising.

Money had behaved the same way in his previous life.

Talent could open a door.

Money could make the path beyond it much easier.

Simon slapped Joe lightly on the shoulder.

”Come on. You can stare at rich people later. I’ll show you the things you’ll actually need.”

He led Joe toward a long building beside the training field.

Two entrances opened at the front.

Simon pointed toward the left.

”That side is ours. Breakfast and lunch are free for Green Hollow students. The food isn’t amazing, but after you’ve been standing in foundation training all morning, you stop caring what the porridge looks like.”

Then he pointed toward the other entrance.

”And that side is for people whose fathers have too much money.”

One of Simon’s friends, who had followed them partway, corrected him.

”It’s called the paid canteen.”

Simon glanced back.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

”I know what it’s called.”

Joe looked through the second doorway.

”What’s different?”

Simon became more serious.

”Better grain, more eggs, meat almost every day, and they put medicinal herbs into the meals. Ten silverlings every month for breakfast and lunch.”

Joe looked at him again.

”Ten?”

”I know. I asked Victor twice when he first told me because I thought he was making it up.”

Ten silverlings was an enormous amount of money for food alone.

A careful village family could stretch a single silverling across much of a month because so much of its food came from its own land.

Ten silverlings every month for two meals a day was not ordinary comfort.

It was luxury.

Simon leaned slightly closer.

”The food isn’t just better. They use one of Master Theodere’s medicinal recipes. Victor ate there for a month once when his uncle paid for it, and he said he recovered faster after training and didn’t wake up as sore.”

Joe’s interest sharpened.

”So it actually helps?”

”Victor says it does, and the older students say the same thing. If I had ten silverlings every month, I’d eat there too.”

Joe looked at him.

”You’d probably just eat all the meat.”

Simon looked offended.

”I would eat the medicine too. I’m not stupid.”

Joe almost smiled.

Simon continued as they walked.

”The free side isn’t bad, though. Don’t make a face when you see the porridge tomorrow. Sometimes there’s egg, and after Starlight they usually serve better food for a few days because the grain stores are full.”

”I eat porridge at home.”

”Not Hall porridge.”

”What makes Hall porridge different?”

Simon thought seriously.

”More water.”

Joe nodded.

”Excellent.”

Simon laughed.

They continued around the compound.

Simon pointed toward a washing area near the rear wall.

”Wash there after training unless you want Mother complaining about the smell when we get home. She already thinks the Hall turns me into livestock.”

Joe believed that.

”The wooden staffs on the first rack are for beginners. Don’t touch the darker ones unless someone tells you to. Thomas borrowed one once because he thought it looked better, and Victor shouted at him for so long that Thomas said being hit would’ve been faster.”

Joe recognized the name.

”The same Thomas you said you teach better than?”

Simon straightened immediately.

”Yes. He still hasn’t admitted it properly, but everyone knows.”

”Everyone?”

”Enough people.”

Joe let him have that one.

For all Simon’s boasting, the tour was genuinely useful.

He knew which older students answered questions patiently, which ones became unpleasant when training went badly, where younger groups gathered each morning and which instructors cared about what kinds of mistakes.

Three years inside the Hall had given him a familiarity Joe simply did not possess.

Simon clearly enjoyed finally being the knowledgeable brother.

Joe decided there was no reason to take that from him.

They passed another training area separated from the main yard by a low fence.

Several older students were already gathering there.

Simon did not slow much.

”That’s where my group trains now.”

Joe looked across the field.

”Dynamic foundation?”

Simon nodded.

”Yes. Don’t start asking me to show you anything. You aren’t allowed to learn it yet, and I like staying inside the Hall.”

”I wasn’t asking.”

”You were going to eventually.”

”Probably.”

Simon looked pleased at being proven right.

”You need minor success in static foundation first. Until then, Hall doesn’t want beginners copying movements they don’t understand. He says people see something from far away, think they know what they’re doing and then spend months practicing it badly.”

That matched what Joe had already heard.

He did not ask for details.

The inheritance contract had made that boundary clear enough.

Simon pointed toward a squat building near the far wall.

”That’s equipment storage. We’re not allowed inside unless an instructor sends us.”

Joe looked at the building.

It seemed slightly too well maintained for a simple storage shed, but there was nothing obviously unusual about it.

”What’s inside?”

Simon lowered his voice.

”I don’t know everything. The front definitely has equipment because I’ve carried things in there before. But there’s another room farther back, and older trainees come out of it carrying books sometimes.”

”Books?”

Simon nodded.

”Not the beginner kind either. Victor went in once with Hall and came out looking like somebody had told him a secret about the world.”

Joe looked toward the building again.

”So it’s not only equipment storage.”

”I said I don’t know what’s in the back.”

”You just said there are books.”

”I know there are books. I don’t know what’s written in them.”

”That’s different.”

”Exactly.”

Simon looked extremely pleased that Joe had agreed.

Joe filed the building away for later.

Books inside the Talent Hall were valuable by default.

Restricted books were more interesting.

They continued farther around the compound.

The Hall was larger and more organized than Joe had understood from outside.

Different groups had designated training spaces. Equipment was separated by experience level. Meals followed a schedule. Literacy instruction occupied its own rooms, while instructors and senior trainees moved between groups according to their responsibilities.

The structure reminded Joe of an organization rather than a traditional master teaching a few disciples.

Theodere stood at the top.

Hall managed the system.

Senior trainees handled much of the repetition.

That allowed one martial artist to train far more children than personal instruction ever could.

Simon interrupted his thoughts.

”You’ve gone quiet again.”

”I’m looking.”

”You always look like you’re trying to solve something.”

Joe glanced at him.

”Maybe I am.”

Simon shrugged.

”Just remember one thing. Don’t act like you know everything on your first day. Hall hates that.”

Joe looked at him.

”Do I do that?”

Simon stared at him.

Joe waited.

Simon finally said, ”You ask questions like you already know half the answer.”

”Sometimes I do know half.”

”That’s exactly what I mean.”

Joe considered that.

Simon continued before he could respond.

”You’ll be fine, though. You listen when it matters.”

That was surprisingly generous.

Joe looked at him.

Simon immediately added, ”Not as well as me, obviously.”

There it was.

A bell sounded from near the main building.

Conversations across the training ground began fading.

Older students stopped what they were doing and started moving toward the central field.

Simon turned immediately.

”That’s noon. Come on. New students stand near the front for this.”

They joined the moving crowd.

Theodere had appeared on the covered platform at the far end of the training ground.

Students began arranging themselves by group.

Simon leaned closer as they walked.

”Watch carefully. Last year Master Theodere broke a practice stone with one strike. Not a little stone either. Bigger than your head, maybe twice that.”

Joe remembered hearing the story repeatedly.

”You actually saw it yourself?”

Simon stopped walking half a step.

”Yes. That’s why I’ve been telling you for years.”

”I was checking.”

”You’ve been ’checking’ for three years.”

Joe almost laughed.

Simon continued, unable to let the matter go.

”After today, when I tell you something about martial arts, you should start believing me the first time. It’ll save both of us a lot of trouble.”

Joe looked toward Theodere.

”We’ll see what he does.”

Simon smiled confidently.

”That’s close enough.”

The crowd settled.

The newly accepted students gathered near the front while older trainees stood behind them.

It was almost noon.

The demonstration was about to begin.