Relentless Potential (Original Fantasy)

A/N: Another timeskip…

-x-X-x-

Before he knows it, another month has passed. Day after day spent training himself, pushing himself, and bettering himself. The progress is much more definitive now; Thomas has to admit. And much more noticeable too, not just to himself but to those around him.

Some things had even had to change as he got stronger and faster, because the labors that used to take him half a day no longer did, nor were they pushing him nearly as much as they used to. Helping out at the Blacksmith or Tannery, or even at one of Last Hope's farms, slowly but surely became a waste of his time.

Not that Thomas ever labeled it as such. He simply moved faster, did things easier, and eventually was completing what used to be difficult, backbreaking work in a mere fraction of the time. Which then in turn led to him being asked to take a step back, funnily enough.

Why? Well it was rather simple… folk like Beatrice and Lahn, as well as those who had farms, well they also all had families and children who had inherited their Gifts. When Thomas first arrived in Last Hope, he'd basically just been an extra set of helping hands, and not even a very competent set either. So putting him to work didn't take much work away from their children, work that was needed in order for those children to grow their own Gifts.

Only as Thomas got stronger, only as he started to reach what felt like superhuman physicality, did he start to get in the way of such things. By doing the work he'd been assigned as fast as he did, he was effectively taking valuable experience away from those who were meant to one day take over for their parents, whether that was as a Blacksmith, Farmer, or Tanner.

As such, he'd been asked to dial it back a fair bit around the same time that he began noticing that he wasn't getting much from them anymore anyways. In the end, Thomas shifting his focus had been the best for everyone involved.

And yes, it was a shift in focus. He couldn't very well dial things back, not and risk losing his drive or what have you. He needed to continue pushing forward, no matter what. Fortunately, Camilla had actually come to enjoy their 'training sessions' as he got more competent and became a better fighter. She might have even started growing herself a bit, even if Thomas had yet to actually so much as land a blow on her, even after another month.

He was getting better though… appreciably better. His skill with a spear was nothing to scoff at by this point and sometimes they even had townsfolk come and watch them fight like it was worthy entertainment or something.

So he spent longer with Camilla each morning than he had back at the start, because at this point her ruthless, brutal battering of his body was exactly what he needed to keep growing stronger. At the same time though, Thomas had also started taking lessons with both Arnold the Apothecary… and Eloise.

Unlike the Blacksmith, Tannery, and Farms that called Last Hope home, the Apothecary did not have a successor lined up. There was nobody to take over for Arnold once he died. While Thomas had no intention of staying in Last Hope for the rest of his new life in this world, he did see value in learning from the old potions maker while he still could.

Of course, he quickly learned why Arnold had no apprentices… the man didn't have the patience for teaching. He was a bit brusque on his best days, but he wasn't hard to get along with in a casual setting. However, when it came to his craft, the aging Apothecary suffered no fools, and children could be very foolish more often than not.

Luckily, Thomas was a full grown man who could take his lumps and accept his mistakes. Even better, he sourced his own ingredients from the expeditions that he and Camilla took out into the Darkwoods on a weekly basis these days. So when he did fuck up, Arnold was a lot more forgiving than if he'd been some snot-nosed brat ruining and wasting precious and rare ingredients while trying to learn.

Of course, Thomas didn't have the Gift of Alchemy like Arnold did, so the going was slow… but he didn't care. He wanted to learn from the Apothecary anyways, and he had high hopes that his Gift of Relentless Potential extended to such things. Why not, right? Why shouldn't it allow him to become a crafter as well as a warrior?

Eloise, meanwhile, was a bit of a stranger case. Aside from the cheek kiss a month ago, she'd shown no further signs that she was interested in him. She was still cordial enough, but it was almost like she'd become… distant in that time since.

At first Thomas assumed it was just her being shy and embarrassed about what she'd done in the heat of the moment. He'd resolved to give her space, not wanting to worsen things. But as time went on, he'd started to privately wonder if she might have had regrets instead…

Fortunately, it didn't seem to affect their friendship too badly. After a week or so, Eloise got over it and Thomas had ultimately approached her about learning to cook from her. He'd been taking lessons with her ever since, learning how to prepare food as she used her Gift of Cooking to make some truly spectacular meals. Nothing he'd made was nearly as delicious yet, but he could tell he was making progress.

There were other ways he'd made progress as well, aside from physical and mental improvement. Such as the leather armor he was wearing right now, or the small round shield attached to his arm as he and Camilla face off against one another, currently on hour three of the morning's training session.

The leather armor is his third set in a month, after the first set of makeshift leathers had… ultimately not lasted past his and Camilla's second expedition into the Darkwoods. The second set had been serviceable enough, but it hadn't been made of Dire Wolf Pelts like this set was.

Bringing back a number of the big beasts with their thick, resistant skins had been an idea that Thomas hadn't been sure would bear fruit, but in the end he got exactly what he was hoping for when Lahn the Tanner's eyes had lit up and he'd gone to work skinning and preparing the leather for crafting.

The shield on his arm, meanwhile, was a Beatrice special, the Blacksmith having really come through for him when Thomas decided that he would be better served learning to use both spear and shield, like he remembered ancient civilizations from Earth espousing. Especially since his arms kept getting stronger and stronger, until wielding a spear one handed felt perfectly fine.

He and Camilla circle each other now, Camilla holding her sword aloft in an aggressive stance and him hunched in, shield up and spear behind it, ready to poke out and try to prod at any holes in Camilla's defenses.

After a beat… the red head lunges forward and Thomas drops down before going for a leg sweep with his spear. It doesn't work of course; the Lady Knight simply leaps over his spear and then brings her sword down towards his head.

Thomas quickly turns his failed prod into a forward roll, escaping her blade as he comes up on the other side of her a moment later. But she's already landed and spun around to face him as well, a single bead of sweat across her forehead the only sign that she's even slightly tired right now.

By comparison, Thomas is panting heavily, every breath a challenge. He's caked in sweat, his body protesting his movements. He ignores the protests though and prepares himself for another pass, knowing full well that he's not going to one day beat Camilla by just giving up when the going gets tough. And he does intend to beat Camilla one day… maybe even soon, he feels like he's closing the gap between them week after week at this point.

However, before they can go for another exchange of blows, there's a sudden noise in the distance that distracts them from one another. Thomas turns at the same time Camilla does… but not towards the town of Last Hope. Rather, they both turn towards the road that leads into Last Hope.

It's the same road that brought them here two months ago, so when Thomas sees a rider on a horse coming galloping down it at breakneck speeds, he can't help but tense up and clench his jaw. A glance at Camilla shows she looks just as confused and concerned by this sudden visitor as he does.

The rider sees that they're armed though no doubt and comes to a full stop a few dozen paces away, never coming close enough to be a real threat. From his distant spot, he calls out to them.

"Greetings! Didn't know the town of Last Hope had dedicated guards. I'm a courier from the Capital!"

A courier from the Capital. Thomas swallows hard and exchanges another glance with Camilla. He hopes this isn't what he thinks it is… frankly, he's been enjoying having almost nothing to do with the original Thomas Marlow's life so far. Almost nothing because Camilla was still a thing, but Thomas was pretty sure he'd brought her around at this point. Or at least, she tolerated him anyways.

Still, maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Just because the courier was from the Capital didn't mean they were here for him necessarily-

"Got a package here for Lord Thomas Marlow!"

Damn it. Thomas sighs and the only reason he doesn't look over at Camilla again is because he's done so too many times already. Lifting his shield arm into the air, he waves his hand and nods.

"That's me. I'm Lord Thomas Marlow."

The courier blinks and then peers at him a bit more closely, no doubt taking in his dirty, disheveled appearance as well as the armor and weapons. Wrinkling his nose, the glorified mailman ultimately shakes his head.

"Heh, pull the other one."

Funny… the first person to correctly identify that he wasn't the man everyone else in this world thought he was… and it was a courier of all things. Still, Thomas does finally look over to Camilla again, this time meaningfully as if to say 'need you to back me up here'.

Fortunately, the red head isn't in the mood for being difficult or having a laugh at his expense.

"He speaks the truth. He is Lord Thomas Marlow, just as I am Dame Camilla Ackinworth, Knight Bachelorette of the Order of Saints."

With that, Camilla flashes her knightly sigil, a pendant she wears around her neck that Thomas only knows about because he'd gotten curious after seeing it once or twice and asked about it.

The courier pauses at the proof provided, frowning for a moment more before shaking his head.

"Very well. On your heads be it."

He reaches behind himself and rummages in his saddlebags for a moment before pulling out a package wrapped in brown paper and tied off with twine of all things. The man then holds it out to Thomas, arching a brow as he does so.

"Here you are then, milord."

With a huff, Thomas sets down his spear and shield, not wanting to alarm the courier OR his horse by being any stranger. Striding forward, he reaches out and takes the package from the courier, surprised to find that it seems to have a bit of weight to it despite being small enough to rest on just one of his palms with some overlap past his fingers.

He stares down at the package, not seeing any sort of writing on the outside or indeed any identification of any sort. Finally, Thomas looks up again with a question on his lips.

"Wait, who-?"

But the courier has already turned his horse around and started riding away. Thomas stares after him with an open mouth, a little caught off guard by the rudeness… but while Camilla might have been able to chase the horse down with how fast she is, Thomas has no desire to test such a thing.

Besides… it's probably fine, right? There's sure to be a letter or something in the package itself.

As he walks back to Camilla, Thomas unties and opens up the brown wrapping, finding a small, square, wooden chest lying inside. As well, there is indeed a folded piece of parchment atop the wooden chest, which Thomas unfolds and reads quickly. Not that the message within helps very much.

Thought you might enjoy some of your favorites while in exile, Thomas.

~ You know who

He… really didn't know who. But when he opens the wooden chest, it's to find innocuous cookies of all things waiting inside. Wrinkling his nose at the pastries, Thomas looks to Camilla with a furrowed brow.

"Someone has sent me… baked goods? Do you have any idea who this could have been?"

Camilla arches a brow at that.

"I should think you would have a better idea of who to still count among your friends back in the Capital, Young Lord. All I could possibly speak on is those who are displeased with you."

… That was honestly fair. And a lot less snippy than usual. Camilla really was starting to come around!

Chuckling at his own joke, Thomas shrugs and picks up one of the cookies, bringing it to his nose and sniffing it. It has a nice smell so… eh, why not? He takes a bite, chewing slowly as he gets a taste of his first cookie since arriving in this world. Last Hope had some desserts, mostly fruit pies, but they didn't have cookies as far as he'd seen.

Honestly… the cookie tastes a little off. He still eats the rest of the first one but looking at the others in the little wooden container, Thomas shrugs and then holds it out to Camilla.

"Want one?"

"… I'm fine."

"Alright… well, guess I'll offer them to Eloise then. Hey, shall we call it here for the day, do you think?"

Camilla glances to the sun and after a moment nods.

"Very well, that is acceptable. Let's head back."

Thomas nods, closing back up the cookies while securing his shield and spear. Even as they both head back into town however, he can't help but wonder… who the hell was sending the infamous Lord Thomas Marlow cookies of all things?!

-x-X-x-

A/N: Cookies! Everyone loves cookies, right?

Please let me know what you think! Your feedback, suggestions, and ideas for this story are keeping the inspiration flowing in a big way!

Plug: There will always be FIFTEEN (15) Bonus Chapters of this story to read over on my Patreon!

-x-X-x-

A/N: Also if you have an account over on Royal Road and have the time to throw me a Follow, Favorite, and Five Star Rating, it would be GREATLY appreciated! Every little bit helps in the early days if I want to get on Rising Stars over there!

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/157707/relentless-potential-original-fantasy