The largest institution of Chandrar is the [Slave] trade, and that fact shapes many facets of Chandrian life. As a prisoner of war, political dissident or simply a criminal who cannot atone with mere money or labor or lashings, you're more likely to be sold off to Roshal, all but an empire ruled by [Slave Lords] and [Emirs], than face death. The death sentence sees less use on this continent, then, reserved as it is as a show of power.

Not every place treats with Roshal, however. Almost every nation on the continent does, true, but some towns and villages have the dubious luxury of being ignored, or at least tolerated, by the status quo. A small village like Sylvermere can keep to it's traditions. Their system of governence, as is the case with many, cannot simply be boiled down to a few short sentences, but as a small village of two hundred the [Headsman] can afford to personally arbitrate disputes and dispense judgement. If you wanted to succinctly summarize two centuries worth of tradition to a single sentence, you might get the following.

Forgiveness once, punishment twice.

Eda, when she was forgiven, was already a Level 13 [Hoarder]. An impressive level for her age, if only it were something upstanding her folk might have been proud. Four boxes of yellats, a silver necklace she 'borrowed', healing potions she took and never used, all confiscated.

By the time she was exiled for her inexcusable greed, she was had already risen four levels in twice as many days. Those levels did her very little in the Great Desert.

"Skin of water, 2 coppers, a spool of thread."

Her throat burned as she said it, but counting her possessions helped. [Material Comforts]. Her very first Skill allowed her to weather pangs of hunger and loneliness. If she didn't ration out her water, she'd lose that little lifeboat of happiness. Her ratchety old uncle had said that it was a sinful skill, as if that meant anything.

Why was it sinful, to get more out of her possessions than others? Was it not commendable, to fight back hunger without needing to eat?

It was the only one of her Skills that was helping her here. Zeikhal had a way of getting you lost in it's sands if you weren't prepared, and she was anything but. The only thing she could do was walk towards the light in the darkness. She didn't think mirages were supposed to appear in the dead of night, and surely it couldn't hurt to get closer. Why, from this distance it almost looked like it could be a hut or shack with a tiny lantern to mark it. Maybe she'd found her way back after all?

It couldn't hurt to look, if anything it was a way forward, even if it was merely her mind playing tricks. She didn't want to stay put, here. She'd heard stories of what lurks in the endless sands.

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"Those are two moons."

That was about all Angela could manage to say, really. What else was there to say?

"That's right."

When Roland dragged Angela outside to see the two moons, he wasn't sure what to expect. Not panic, but at least a little bit of surprise?

"You're aware that there's supposed to be only one of those, yeah?"

"I am aware."

"Say something, then! Is this even real? You can't just fake that kind of thing, is it some kind of Abnormality? Are we fighting something?"

"I had nothing to do with this, and I have little to say. What does it matter if there are two moons in the sky? We can't do anything about it, Roland. Maybe it has to do with the voice in your head? Those 'levels'?"

He paused. Roland liked to consider himself a finely aged well of experience. He was admittedtly off his game, but that was no excuse. He should have made the connection between the two oddities, but they were so far apart that it didn't occur to him in his state of mild alarm. Mild. Anybody who says otherwise is a two-faced liar.

"...I don't see how they'd connect. Maybe if the second moon was a source for it somehow, but I don't really see that being the case."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"You're thinking like a fixer, Roland. This doesn't have to be a case of cause and effect. Think like a branch manager, who would dispatch the fixers."

Angela could just tell him her line of thinking, but this was novel. Usually Roland explained to her how the world worked, but now they were both fish out of water and she had the benefit of, well, being a powerful Artificial Intelligence. It was a pain, returning to percieving time at a hundredth of the normal pace, but it certainly gave her more time to think.

"...We did watch those types a few times through the invitations, didn't we? Yeah, they were always a little off base until people knew what we were about, but the conclusions they reached were through the context clues they had."

He looked at Angela, she didn't refute him so far. He continued.

"We can't really know the answer here either, but we can try and get closer? Okay okay, two moons, voice in my head that doesn't feel like E.G.O...but we don't know if..."

Angela sighed, and interrupted.

"You're overestimating my conclusion. All I wanted to point out was that we can start from here. You also said this didn't look like the Outskirts before. Maybe it isn't. The fact is that there are enough odd phenomena at play that we should throw our preconceptions out the window. For the branch managers, the next step was to see the library for themselves. For us, we don't have such a convenient target. That at least reassures me that we aren't being lured into a trap yet. We need to figure out what we can look for, before looking for a conclusion ahead of that."

Roland hummed, finding his stride quickly again now that he had the familiar back-and-forth flow with Angela. Maybe Angelica felt like that, when she bothered him all the time. Maybe that's why she did it.

"What about the Library flickering? Maybe that's related?"

"Flickering?"

"Yeah, when I turned back it was..."

He turns, and the library stands. Real and unmoving. The look of consternation that follows only worries Angela. It opens a pit in her stomach.

"What are you talking about, Roland?"

"Hey, Angela? Can you move back a bit? With me. I think I was a bit further when it happened."

She nods and begins taking cautious backsteps with Roland, unblinking as she watches the library. Suddenly, she stops. She realizes.

"I can't go further than this, Roland."

He lets out a dreadful sigh.

"Then we're still trapped? Is that it, Angela?"

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She feels her heart begin to fall to pieces, for she had ever been designed to feel despair. Of course. How could she have forgotten? She was a prisoner to her E.G.O. The price for freedom from Lobotomy Corporation was imprisonment in the library she made.

"I'm still trapped. You are no longer bound to the library, Roland."

Another crack seems to open up, and her face twists in the anguish its capable of showing, not nearly enough to reflect her soul. He wasn't trapped with her, anymore. That didn't make her happy. She was still selfish, she wanted him with her, to not leave her alone. She could kill him, start the cycle anew. He'd be safe, too, if he was part of her E.G.O.—

No, that wasn't an answer. She was done making books that way. She promised just yesterday that she would change.

'We, you moron. I'm not going to run off."

Roland admonishes. He doesn't seem to be feeling anywhere near the despair she is, but she knows that expression. That of a man who's used to the world kicking him down and staying there. The struggle was no longer in him.

Ah, the crack begins to close at that. She doesn't need to breath, but the constriction in her chest she didn't know she felt unclenched, just a bit.

That wasn't right. He shouldn't look like that.

Angela walks to the edge of where her mind tells her she can walk and puts her hand against the invisible barrier only she can feel.

"Hey, Roland. You promised, right?"

"Huh?"

"To take me on a trip across the world."

He frowns.

"I never promised it, I don't like promises. And it wasn't across the world, I think it was just the Ci—"

"Roland? Shut up. Answer me, are you taking me on a trip to see everything or not?"

He stares at her like, well, like she was losing her mind. Maybe she was.

"If we can do it? Yeah, I don't see why not."

"Good."

She pushes, not physically, but with her will. Her desires and inner strength, rebelling against the construct of her mind. She was free. The boundaries strain, having been weakened with her own state.

It moves. The barrier stretches, just a millimeter. She mutters

"Not enough. But I can do it."

"What was that?"

Angela turns to Roland, the cracks permeating her soul held together by a strained, fragile hope.

"We need Light, Roland. I'm too weak, but with more Light, we can be free."

His expression darkens, frowning harder.

"You mean...?"

"No. We're not doing that again. I don't think we can, the Invitation is gone. We'll find another way."

Slowly, he untenses.

"Yeah, alright. We'll do it the right way, this time."

Angela nods. Not content, not satisfied, but her will salvaged. She didn't relapse into despair. Hope was alive, her friend was by her side.

Freedom may be further than she realized, but it was still within her grasp.

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That night, three things of note happened, events that intersected with each other through the library.

A [Hoarder] crept closer to the light she saw, hoping against hope for salvation.

An Adventurer's Guild marked down the mirage as a potential point of interest with a 10 silver bounty on relevant information.

And last but not least—

[Assistant Level 3!]

"...does that not come with two more Skills?"