The wooden sword struck Nash's shield, I could feel the vibration shock my hand, almost making me drop it. "A solid blow!" Nash declared with a laugh. "You may be soft, but you are not without strength. But with a sword-" I struck the shield again. "-strength is not all that is needed, you need to be quick on your feet, you need to understand that simply swinging it around will not do you well in combat with anything other than a beast."

"I know." I said as I took a moment to catch my breath. The wooden sword was heavy, about the same weight of a decent sword. Since nothing required cleaning today, Nash had suggested I practice the basics of wielding any sort of weapon with him.

"What did I say when we began?" He asked.

"A warrior remembers the basics and keeps them close to his heart." I replied. "Fancy swordplay is only necessary in duels, and only braggarts incorporate such in life or death battles." I wore a gambeson for my protection. The wooden swords were heavier than they should have been. The armor, likewise, was heavier than it would seem. The weight was necessary for training.

I wouldn't need much use for bench pressing a hundred pounds or more, though Nash was impressed by my knowledge of exercise, specifically different work-outs that exercised different muscles.

While he could deliver a powerful blow with a swing, his backswing was weak, since he rarely needed to use the muscles necessary for it. I still had a PDF on my phone from when I took weight training in P.E. I kept it as a useful reference for my character Rex, though I rarely used them myself. For Nash, it was valuable information that explained to him how to improve where he was weaker.

This particular training wasn't meant for strengthening me, so much as seeing where I needed improvement. Which under Nash' trained eye, was everything.

"You could maybe fight off a weak monster, or hold off a strong one long enough for help to potentially arrive, but you are likely to be killed." He said when we took time to rest. Cier came out with a pitcher of iced water.

"Uh, Cier, iced water on a hot day after heavy exercise can be detrimental to one's health." I said. "Lukewarm to warm water or tea is better, since it better matches the body's internal temperature. If there's a huge thermal shock to the body, it can cause a heart attack, which if untreated can lead to death."

Cier seemed to trust me more, he listened to the information I gave, but also understood that my knowledge of such things wasn't one hundred percent accurate all of the time.

"I understand." He said. "Is there no use for the water, then?"

"We can apply small amounts of it to our bodies to cool it off a little faster, but it's usually not worth it." I replied.

"Then I will bring this to my Lady, she will surely enjoy the cool water on this warm day."

He walked off, and I said to Nash, "He's an alright guy."

Nash nodded. "He comes from a long line of men and women trained at an early age to serve the Noble families." He said. "Being capable at everyday household chores as well as combat is a must."

"Imagine that." I remarked. "Does everyone serve a family, or..?"

"Those who do not serve a family often end up serving in the military, where their skills are greatly appreciated. His life of service was a guarantee for a reasonably comfortable lifestyle, which is more than what can be said for those of common birth. Especially for Humans."

Humans were considered a race of quick-tempered and warlike creatures who bred too fast to be properly controlled. There had been multiple instances of a race attempting to enslave them all, only to find them too numerous to maintain and too eager to fight to keep contained.

Like all of the races favored by the Gods, they had what was known as a Racial Talent, an ability that they could use once per day, which was colloquially known as 'Indomitable Resolve'. A Human could ignore magical abilities that negatively affected them both physically and mentally, but only for a short period of time. This was usually enough to bypass detrimental magical effects long enough to kill whatever caused it in the first place. The God they followed was Paedon, Glaive of Justice and Battle.

"Do you think my resistance to magic is simply Indomitable Resolve constantly being on?" I asked after having followed the train of thought.

"It is possible." He remarked. "But usually attempts to maintain it longer than usual lead to painful detrimental effects, such as bleeding out of every orifice."

It offered a potential explanation, but I would need to see this Talent in action.

"What Racial Talent to the Lacertians have?" I asked.

"All Beastfolk have the Racial Talent of 'Feral Might'. We channel the aspects of our lesser brethren and become stronger in the aspect they govern. For myself, it is strength. I rarely need to use it anymore, as it is a crutch, but when the situation requires it, few are able to stand in my way."

"And the Aelfan?" I asked.

"They bear the Racial Talent of 'Truesight', the ability to perceive falsehoods and the nature of things hidden. That you are capable of obfuscating Truesight is alarming, but that you are unwillingly doing so is forgivable."

I nodded.

So, in the end, I did manage to get an OP ability, it just happened to be more trouble than it was worth. Cier returned with lukewarm water, which we drank to hydrate ourselves before we set about doing exercises. Endurance, Strength, Balance, and Flexibility; these four types of exercises were considered the four basic categories. According to Nash, the one I had the least trouble with was balance, with flexibility being a close second, endurance being third, and strength being fourth.

"While you can keep up when pacing yourself, you still have a long way to go." He said. "And your strength is lacking greatly. Your strongest blow is inadequate, but it is still strong enough that with a sword you could do some damage. But, under my tutelage, you will be able to survive." He extended his arm, flexed it, and slapped his left hand on his bicep while grinning.

"There are some places on Earth where that's an obscene gesture." I remarked. "But I understand the sentiment."

In various forms of media, one would be treated to some sort of training montage that starts relatively humorously before slowly transitioning into the protagonist getting stronger. As it was, I could barely do a push-up, let alone do anything too strenuous for too long. But, Nash proved to be an effective motivator, especially when it came down to something as simple as doing two push-ups, which he considered to be a fascinating form of exercise.

I'd had it drilled into my head many times the proper posture for doing them, which was meant to maximize gains or something like that, but every time, I'd just half-ass it because I just wanted to get it over with. Nash was quick to catch me on my bullshit. Any time I didn't have the proper form for it, he made me redo it until I did it correctly

He understood that pushing myself to the point of injury was counter-intuitive, so his brilliant idea was to have me attempt to go as much as I could, with five attempts after I broke my previous most. Today, I'd managed to do three push-ups, thirty sit-ups, five squats without falling over, and ten laps around the courtyard, among other exercises.

"What is your goal?" He asked as we rested.

I smirked as I said, "100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and ten kilometers of running per day."

"Kilometer?" He asked.

I sighed. "That will be hard to explain without the proper measurements." I said.

"Then how about ten Khenra." He said. "That is about the length from the main gate of this city to the nearest village."

"Sure, but can that be run in a single day?" I asked.

He nodded. "I could run the distance five times without needing to rest." He boasted.

I recalled that the cord to my phone was a meter in length. "I've figured out how to show you the length required, but it would take me some time to figure it out." I said.

"How is that?" He asked.

"The cord I have for charging my phone, which is practically useless at the moment, is exactly one meter in length."

"May I see?" He asked.

"May as well." I remarked.

We went to my room where I pulled the cord out of a drawer from an end table next to my bed. Among the things I kept inside was a charger port, an external battery that I was planning on having Beatrice amplify later, an empty spare smartphone battery that I'd kept just in case- I'd intended on charging it when I went to sleep, but... There were a handful of pens and pencils, a package of cherry flavored gum, a pocket knife with several tools attached, and my wallet.

I stretched the cord out on the desk and Nash looked it over. "Ah, it looks around the length of a Jhakan." He said. "Ten Jhakan equal to one Lhasa, which ten of equal to one Rhasa, ten of which equal one Khenra."

I was annoyed. "So, my translation thing didn't translate Kilometer to Khenra." I remarked.

"Perhaps it communicates common enough information. The word you use to describe your... thing, it translates to 'smart speak' in my tongue, which is an odd name, but I never cared to ask why."

I nodded. That did make some sense. "Phones are a device on my world that transmits sound from one person to another, the reason this is called a smartphone is because it can do more than that." I replied.

He nodded. "I understand now." He said. "Which means you could contact anyone in this world, correct?"

"That other person would need a similar device and a means of transmitting the signal in the first place." I said. "Unfortunately, no signal means no communication.

I pulled out my phone and unlocked it. "I should delete some of the apps that I can't use anymore, since there isn't going to be any real reason to keep them on."

"If they are useless, why do you sound so sad?" Nash asked.

"It may seem silly, but a lot of these apps were my connection to the world outside, it was my escape from an unpleasant living situation."

My vision clouded as I grabbed the front of my shirt. I leaned against the desk and tried to hold it in, but it all came out. I felt Nash's hand on my shoulder before he drew me in closer for a hug.

"Let it all out." He said. "There is no shame in grieving what you have lost, there is no shame in weeping."

Crying is not quiet, it is loud, it's inelegant, it's messy. For the first time in years, I cried loudly, all of my pent up sorrow and anger and stress spilled out. Not once did Nash let go, nor did he tell me to suck it up. He didn't insult me, rather, he met me halfway with a surprising tenderness that I never really though him capable of.

By the time I was all cried out, I honestly felt a lot better. I hiccupped, my face was covered in tears and snot, some of which had soaked into his shoulder.

"Sorry." I said hollowly.

"Sorry?!" He exclaimed. "By the Gods, why would you be sorry?"

I flinched, his eyes narrowed as he led me to my bed and sat me down on it before he knelt down in front of me. "You, who speak with my Lady as an equal, who stared down a dragon and dared to have the audacity to ask it permission to do your task, who did not balk at a task of grave severity, why do you flinch as though I am ready to pounce?"

I looked down and clenched my fists, he rested his finger under my chin and lifted my head. "Why are you ashamed?" He asked.

"Because..." Another sob choked me this time. I cleared my throat. "Because crying isn't something men do, and if you do it, you're laughed at, scorned for being a weak coward." I said hollowly.

"And who gave you this idea?" He asked.

"Everyone I've ever known." I replied. "Except my Mom."

"It is no wonder you are so soft." He said. "It takes strength to weep openly, to let your woes be known. When you hide them, when you lock them away, they only burden you. Those who hide behind strength, those who hide behind power, yet never allow themselves to be seen weeping, they are the loneliest souls alive, and because they do not weep openly, it is impossible to know if they truly can feel grief."

"I've gone my entire life being called a pussy, a little bitch." I spat these words out. "It didn't matter if they were male or female, young or old, they ridiculed me because I cried when I was upset. I had to hold it all in, otherwise it would have gotten worse."

"Then they are fools." He said. "And they are soft. A warrior can only ever be ready for battle when his mind, his body, and his soul are united. You are of sound mind, ignorant of this world, but you have clearly honed your mind to such a degree that you are clever enough to survive if the situation calls for it. Your knowledge of stories similar to this world, they are but preparation. You recognized Beatrice as being intelligent instead of wondering where her master was, you communicated with a dragon, one of the most prideful beings on this world, and you recognized the value of a contract when it was vital."

He rested both hands on my shoulders. "You recognized that which made you distrustful, and I dare say you have proven that you are not here to cause trouble. You are earnest and kind, and though you showed hesitance to train, you do not shy away when it counts. And now, I have seen you at your most vulnerable, and I know you are not as weak as you think you are."

I didn't know what to say, so I hugged Nash again.

"Rest here until I return." He said before he left. I spent the time he was away deleting the apps that would no longer serve any purpose, while I kept the ones that at least had some use, even if they were just crappy mobile RPGs and idle games. I eventually found my way to my the many photo's I'd taken since I'd gotten my phone.

It was then that Nash returned, accompanied by multiple servants, who all set up a spread of food and tea before leaving. My gut growled, so I tossed my phone onto the bed and filled a plate with a few pastries and meat-based wraps. I poured myself some tea and walked back to the bed.

Nash was holding my phone, looking at the screen. "This woman." He said. "Is she your mother?"

I looked and nodded. "Yeah." I said.

"She has aged gracefully, her eyes are kind." He remarked.

"Yeah."

He set the phone down and sat on the foot of my bed. "I am glad you had such a kind mother."

"I wish I could have given her a proper goodbye." I said.

"Then let us work toward a day when you can tell her, 'I have returned'."

I nodded and ate a pastry...