“Broadly, a skill’s Tier determines it’s potential power and versatility. The tiers are, of course, Bronze, Silver and Gold, in order of power. Similar skills at the same level but at different tiers are capable of vastly different fits.”

  “Take your Bronce Tier Clean for example. As you just obtained it, it’ll only help you marginally when you are cleaning or tiding, while mine higher tier skill does all the work for me. Even if you capped your skill level and your skill gains some supernatural effect, it probably won’t compare to mine.”

  Nate listened in rapt attention, biting off his lip not to ask about levels or supernatural abilities, and ruin the first honest to God explanation someone had given him since coming to this world.

  “If that was all that Tiers were for, the world would be so much kinder…” Dana continued, a sad expression on her face. “When applied to a person, a Tier not only determines the higher skill grade one can achieve, but also how many skills he can possess at once. Golden Tier individuals can have up to three. Silvered Tiers two, and Bronce Tiers… just the one…”

  “I don’t know how much do I really have to clarify, and I wouldn’t want one so young to shoulder this truth, but since you’ll live here, is only natural you found out sooner or later, so, well… Skills are important, in our society. Many trades are reserved only for those who have the required Skillset for them. Even for an orphan such as yourself, your Tier will highly influence your chance at being adopted or getting an apprenticeship.”

  “But that’s not the half of it… Noble houses often resort to anything to keep producing Gold Tiers, and even some Silver Tiered tradesman would go so far as to kidnaping higher Tiered children away from their families to secure viable heirs two their businesses... and as for the Bronze children that don’t meet the harsh expectations of these so called families, well… the fortunate ones end up here…”

  “Oh… That’s pretty messed up…” Nate observed.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Wouldn’t have put it better myself.” Mother Dana chuckled mirthlessly, nothing like the mellifluous laughter from before.

  They sat like that for a while in companiable silence.

  “I am sorry, Nathan,” she said out of the blue, “as I thought, I shouldn’t have told you all of that.”

  “No, no! I am glad you did! I could have landed myself in deep waters if you haven’t! I mean, I could have antagonized the rest of the orphans like I did with Zoly, or gotten myself kidnapped for saying how many skills I have at the wrong place at the wrong time!”

  “Oh? So, you have more than one skill?”

  “Just the one for now.” He shrugged.

  “I see… Nathan, would you care to make another deal with me?”

  “More questions?”

  “No, child. You see, mother Olga had issued you seven days of disciplinary work as punishment for your misbehavior, but even if her intentions were good, I don’t believe you stand to learn something from it. If anything, you will just endanger our finances with all the property damage you will cost.” She smiled at this last line, some of his good humor returning.

  “That’s…!” he was about to say ‘uncalled-for’ but, looking back at today, he finished lamely instead; “fair…”

  “So, I have a proposal for you instead.”

  “I am listening…”

  “I was thinking that, instead of having you do ordinary work around the church for seven days, I would have you do seven tasks for me personally. Then, provided you manage to complete these tasks, I will reward you with an hour of skill training for each.”

  “Of course, I will help you level your Clean skill during this time, but I’ll also answer any questions you may have about skills in general. The tradeoff being that you won’t be able to ask anything to the other mothers until the seventh task is completed… Well, what do you think? Are you interested?”

  “YES! Yes I am! And I can ask you any question?”

  “Any question related to skills… Within reason. And remember, you won’t be able to ask Amanda or Olga.”

  “But I won’t have to touch greasy pots anymore! Of course I’ll accept!”

  “And you will give your all to each task?”

  “You can bet I will!”

  “Verry well, child, then here is your first task; make amends with Zolydane. You have until tomorrow morning for him to accept your apology.”

  “Wait! Like… right now?!”

  “When else?”

  “B-but is night time already!”

  “Then I suggest you hurry.”

  “Ugh… you… fine I’ll do so!” and on those Nate words hurried out of the chapel.