Metropolis - Goldilocks Cafeteria

Sunday, May 10th, 2089 | 7:03am

“Who does she think she is, anyway?” Yaz said, petulance dripping from her voice.

Chris sighed, curbing the need to pinch the bridge of her nose, the source of her throbbing headache. It was too early and she hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep to deal with the girl again, so soon. Hadn’t she just gotten rid of her? Chris looked back. Nope, still there. She had so been looking forward to a drama-free breakfast. It had worked so well the day before. Why couldn’t it be so simple again?

Another glance behind her confirmed it wouldn’t be. She’d literally just stepped foot into the cafeteria when the girl had come barreling into her, launching into a self-perpetuating rant concerning Doris. There wasn’t much she needed to say to keep the girl going, but it still grated on her nerves, especially at this early hour, surrounded by this many vicious criminals. This time, she did pinch the ridge of her nose when her head felt like it was about to explode.

The fact that Yaz was complaining about Doris so publicly made her uneasy. Chris didn’t know how much, but the woman obviously had a certain amount of power in the prison hierarchy. She hadn’t yet figured out if she was the missing member of The Big Three, but Chris wasn’t about to take her chances if she was. Era was about all she could handle right now, and according to her rank, she wasn’t even handling that properly. She didn’t need to add anything else to her plate.

As the gruel plopped onto her actual plate, Chris was yanked back to her present woes, including the girl, who was still blabbering on. The girl’s lack of volume control was already attracting unwanted attention. Unfortunately, Chris herself was also being given unwanted attention, by Yaz. She didn’t even bother trying to pry the girl off of her back. She’d have more success trying to remove a leech with one chopstick. Her headache throbbed painfully across her entire skull, threatening to turn into a full-on migraine. Such was the powers of early-morning-Yaz-company.

Chris sighed in resignation. After spending a good portion of the night studying and preparing for Era, she just wanted to eat her breakfast as quickly and quietly as possible and get back to Era. There was a lot of catching up to do. A memory of her rank flashed behind her eyelids with the next wave of pain.

“5780/5792: Pending Review”

She had been expecting more progress after attaining such a sought-after skill. But even after seeing the unfortunate number, small sliver of hope had lodged into her heart with the ambiguous notice of “Pending Review.” Chris had been uncertain about whether she should ask Tiny about it. As amiable as her roommate seemed, she was wary of trusting anyone, especially after the Serving Time debacle. Chris didn’t want her ranking issues getting back to Suerte.

Although it seemed like Rin was already well situated across the country, Suerte still had her sister’s life in his hands. Chris had mulled over the decision during Tiny’s workout, the following shower and long after the lights had been turned off. She had tried in vain to find an explanation in the b-link’s library. Eventually, the need to know had gotten the better of her and she had asked Tiny about it.

The large woman’s answer had been punctuated with surprise.

“Wow, already?!” her tall cell-mate had asked, leaning her head over the top bunk. “That’s usually not something you come across until something major and unexpected happens.”

Chris nodded slowly, wondering what ‘something major and unexpected’ entailed. To her mind, most of what had happened in Era over the last two days had been ‘either’, ‘or’ and ‘and’. Chris’ expression must have given her thoughts away since she elucidated without prompting.

“Most of the time, during major quest events,” she wrinkled her brows. “Nothing you should have encountered yet. At least not at your level. Unless…”

“How come?” Chris had asked, cutting her off before she started forming unwanted assumptions but also needing more information.

“It’s…Erm…” the large woman began, taking a moment to redirect her thoughts. “When the AI used to calculate ranks can’t figure out what to make of your profit that day.”

A silence filled with questions had followed Tiny’s answer and Chris knew her cellmate was curious about what had led to her “Pending Review”, but for some reason Chris didn’t want to share the particulars of her day. After trying to read up on her Contract creating and Rune-reading abilities, she had come to realize just how rare, uncharted and potentially valuable they were. She also didn’t want to go anywhere near the small issue of her still-single-digit-and-not-even-on-the-high-side level. Chris masked her expression so stoically, it probably radiated suspiciousness.

The silence finally stretched long enough for Tiny to realize Chris wasn’t going to give her anything.

“It’s usually something that could really raise,” the woman said, “or really lower your ranking in the long run.” Luckily she wasn’t too upset at Chris’ reticence. At least, she didn’t seem to be when she continued to explain, “Rumors say the Warden personally reviews Pending Review cases if they’re… Pending for too long. But then again,” she’d paused to look at Chris suggestively. “You know what they say about rumors…” Tiny had smiled and Chris had been unsure how to take it.

Before Chris could come to a conclusion, the woman had retreated back to her bunk. It made Chris wonder if she should have told Tiny about her day in the Vault after all. As soon as the thought entered her head, she forced it out immediately. She was done confiding in people unnecessarily; so far it had only gotten her into trouble.

Although the prison had access to all that she did, and she still wondered what her weekly psych visits would entail, none of her ‘fellow inmates’ needed to know. The only way two people could keep a secret was if one of them was dead. A shudder creeped down her spine, trying to erase the fact the thought had ever existed.

The back of her mind squirmed with the knowledge that prison was changing her. It was making her consider, plan and do things that had never even occurred to her before. She’d been there for a total of two days and she was already barely recognizable from her self from… had it really only been a week ago? Had it really only been seven days since she’d been standing at the damned cash register. The numbers 11:47 glowed faintly at the bottom right corner of her b-link screen.

Yes, it was. Almost exactly.

She slumped in her bunk, wondering if a week in prison was all it took to make a murderer out of a convicted murderer.

“You know what I mean!?” Yaz barked in a shrill voice, tearing Chris back to the present.

They were walking toward one of the tables, but Chris’ eyes were already subconsciously focused on the exit. She turned to Yaz, her brown hair and red streaks glowing in her morning light settings, and regretted ever having talked to the girl. There was nothing she wanted from the girl, except maybe…

“Say,” Chris said, completely ignoring whatever it was that Yaz “meant”. “How are you doing in Era?”

Chris veered to the right, changing their course as she waited for the girl’s reply.

“Oh, right!” Yaz said, “totally forgot to tell you. I’m like, kicking ass!” The girl almost shouldered another inmate to follow in Chris’ zig-zag path to the exit. “I made it to level fifteen like, a minute before I had to log out yesterday.”

“Not bad,” Chris said, trying to sound like she did when praising Rin for a good grade.

Thankfully it was enough to get the girl talking again as she veered around a table and dropped off tray off at one of the clean-up stations.

“Yea! It boosted my rank to 324th!”

Chris merely nodded, shoveling down gruel while still walking. With her hands liberated from the tray, she could hold her plate in one hand and her nifty spork in the other. With hand occupied, she had the added bonus of not having to react to the girl’s revelations. She wasn’t about to share how her own rank was 5780th. 13th from the bottom if she chose to interpret it Yaz’s way.

Chris forced down a mouthful of the foul-smelling-foul-tasting gruel so she could speak. “Oh yea?” she asked, swallowing hard to clear the last tenacious remnants of gruel. “What you been up to?”

No later than the words leaving her mouth and the girl catching the bait did Chris dig right back into her plate.

“Working on some quests with the guild.”

“Hmm…” Chris tried to mumble encouragingly while processing gruel as fast as she could. She didn’t bother to chew.

“We’re accumulating funds for a huge expansion,” Yaz said, seemingly oblivious to Chris’s porcine actions. “Serving Time doesn’t have a base in the High Plains yet, so that’s what we are working towards.”

“Huh, guess you’re sticking with them, then?” Chris asked between mouthfuls, trying to keep the hopefulness out of her tone.

“Oh no! Of course not! I’m still joining up with you as soon as you have your own guild!” she nearly screamed. “I’ve actually teamed up with a group that’s heading your way.”

“Oh yea?” Chris encouraged, trying to keep her gag reflex in check as she downed the gruel in record time.

“Yea,” Yaz said. “We’re all pretty low-level, which is why we are traveling on foot. That way, we can level up on the way.”

“Huh,” Chris mumbled with a full mouth, the girl didn’t need much encouragement to keep talking.

“Ahuh, the guild’s got some big plans for Durrenheim.”

They reached the final table in the cafeteria. Chris had pretty much finished the whole plate on the go, but Yaz was readying to take a seat. Chris took advantage of the girl’s distraction to say, “Hey, I’ve got a… an appointment I gotta keep. So I gotta… “ she nodded her head in the direction of the exit. “…go. See ya later.”

‘Much, much, much later.’ Chris added as a hopeful mental note, turning away from the girl.

“But what about…” Yaz began.

Chris didn’t stop to hear the rest of it. She shoved the last two sporkfuls of gruel into her mouth and got in line right as the next group to the Capsule Bay filled up. By the time she finally swallowed the last bit of gruel, they were securely on their way.

Her shoulders’ finally relaxed when she could no longer hear noise from the cafeteria. Chris was relieved she wouldn’t have to deal with Yaz for at least another 11 real-life hours. Thankfully, the girl was at least a week away from her in Era and Chris wouldn’t have to encounter her there anytime soon either. The only thing she regretted about their ‘conversation’ was not finding out what Serving Time wanted in Durrenheim. For them to send a group of beginners to another starting location, something was definitely up.

———

Aya’s final Vault hour went by quickly. It had gone the exact way she expected it to, Basic Contract after Basic Contract. The only event that defied her expectations was the moment when Senior Aizan, who accompanied her out of the library, handed her a small leather-bound notebook. She’d looked up inquisitively to find the harsh man’s features softened with humor.

“Figured yours was about full by now,” he said simply and without inflection.

Aya gaped, slightly unsure she’d understood him correctly, but gaping nonetheless. She stuttered a thank you, accepted the book and and left before the man changed his mind or the real Senior Aizan decided to return to his body.

She stored the book in the same pouch as the other notebook. It had been burning a hole at her side ever since Aizan mentioned it. She hastened her small strides as much as possible and took off in the direction of the Western Gate. Hours upon hours of mind-numbing Vault work had given her a very clear vision of what she intended to do.

First on the list was, unfortunately, Donovan. Opening her friends’ list she realized three things.

1. Neither Donovan, Obelisk or Asterisk were on-line.

2. She was still friends with Furia who, was also not on-line.

3. There were still 2 unread messages in her inbox.

ONE wasn’t surprising, considering the hour.

TWO… she would take time to consider later.

THREE she had totally forgotten about.

Opening Obelisk’s message first, she skimmed the semi-translucent letters in front of her while she made her way to the gate. Henry squawked behind her, barely able to keep up when she wove herself through the slightly more congested town square. A twinge of remorse worked its way into her conscience when she noticed his pain brought her joy. His next squawk made her pull up short and wait for him to catch up to her.

The bird squawked in accusation the moment he reached her. Aya rolled her eyes, trying to hide her guilt. She knew her mana was somehow hurting him whenever he got too far but she was unsure how to stop it. Not that she had tried very hard… or at all. He didn’t offer any resistance when she bent over, picked him up and plopped him onto one of the satchels she had slung over her back.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Obelisk’s message turned out to be a friendly one, merely asking if she was alright. Durrenheim’s Daily Bulletin had informed him of her sentence, but he made no further inquiries about the event. He simply asked her to message him as soon as she could. Aya was very surprised. She was a prisoner and she’d almost taken it for granted that the event would push any friends she had made away.

After scrawling a simple note saying she was fine and would like to meet up, she opened Donovan’s message.

If an adequate replacement has not shown itself by the time you are released, stay near Durrenheim.

I will pick you up during my normal playing time.

10:00am-4:00pm ET

Aya’s lip twitched in a mixture of amusement and annoyance. She couldn’t settle on the appropriate emotion. The aggravation she’d felt in the cafeteria had followed her to Era, even if the headache hadn’t. In the end she decided there was nothing to be annoyed about. Donovan was just being Donovan. Shaking her head, she didn’t even bother replying.

Past the dried-out water fountain and most of the set up stalls, Aya heard a set of words that made her stop in her tracks.

“… from Serving Time.”

“Well…” said a tall player with dark hair pulled high into a ponytail. He shrugged his broad chainmail-covered torso to add, “they’re cons what do you expect?”

“I know, I can’t believe the government is paying for them,” said the shorter, still beginner-garb-clad one. “I had to spend hard-earned…”

His words died off when his eyes veered in her direction. Noticing his friends’ hesitation, the other turned as well, only to glare at that sweet spot above her head.

Aya looked away immediately, knowing all too well how guilty she looked. She bent over, pretending to tie her shoes, only to notice her gladiator sandals were severely lacking in the tie department. Instead she adjusted the fastenings, took out one of her bags and started ruffling through it.

A short silence spanned after she’d bent down but eventually the conversation continued. Further insults about cons were traded and their voices weren’t lowered in the least. If anything, they raised them, showing Aya they wanted her to overhear the conversation. It didn’t bother her because eventually, they did bring the topic back around to what she wanted to hear.

“Yea but come on!” the smaller one whined. “15 gold for a starter set is just ridiculous.”

“Not like we had a choice,” the taller one answered, throwing in a shrug Aya caught from the corner of her eye. “They’ve driven everyone else here out of business.”

“What about…” the shorter one said, fingers twitching before him as his eyes scanned something visible only to him. “Hohnhaus? It’s the close—”

“It’s not a starting location so there won’t be any places we can level you up in, even if I went alone. For me to go there and come back… it’s just not worth it… And they…” his head swung towards one of the last stands, “know it.”

Aya had heard enough. Her spine stiffened as she came to her feet and turned toward the stall. She walked by it at a measured pace, giving it nothing more than a passing glance. Thankfully, there were no players she recognized amongst the dozen or so milling about the stall. They were divided into two camps. One had convict tags above their heads and sported smug, self-satisfied expressions, the other didn’t and looked like they’d all shared a basket of rotten apples. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind, they all knew they were being ripped off.

It reminded Aya of the water market. Sighing, she pivoted around to go buy some. Henry could subsist on blood, but she chose not to. Standing in line gave her a chance to compare the players. Although the consumers at both stalls were aware of being taken advantage of, the margin at the water stall was smaller and, if not understandable, at least justifiable, considering the drought.

After buying a couple skins of water, she made her way out of town, once again passing by Serving Time’s weapon stall. It gave her a chance to catalog their equipment. Although it sold all manner of gear, most of it was made out of metal. The goods at the other stalls also stood out to her and she realized for the first time that there were only two weapon stalls, Serving Time’s and Xavier’s. But since Xavier wasn’t around at the time, Serving Time was dominating the market.

She would need to talk to Xavier about it to find out some more information, but seeing the monopoly in action gave her ideas. Until then, she’d only known that she was going to get back at the damned guild, but now, she thought she knew how. In fact, a small smile spread across her lips as she considered it, it might work perfectly with what she already had planned.

Aya’s legs hastened into a jog and before she knew it, she was already running past the guards stationed at the Western Gate. She would have kept going, emboldened by the freedom of movement after so many  hours cooped up both in the Vault and in Goldilocks, she really would have, if not for the fact that the forgotten bird jumped off her satchel and ran off. She wouldn’t have cared, she shouldn’t have cared, but unlike all previous times, the bird refused to follow her even after her mana kept zapping it repeatedly.

She really would have kept going, even without the bird, if she hadn’t been struck by incomparable pain. Out of nowhere, it was like a spear of ice tore through her insides and cut a bolt of fire across her skin. It made her body tingle with millions of dispersed particles of pain. It was followed by another one before she could recover from the shock and even start dealing with the pain. After the second one, she immediately scooted in the bird’s direction, feeling a little sorry for the bird she’d made go through such pain many times but more relieved she did it fast enough to not be affected again.

Henry had approached a beggar, slumped by the side of city walls. It both annoyed and surprised her, but not as much as the deferential body language his leather-feather-bound body had taken. Curiosity sparked and tripled a moment later when she recognized the beggar. It was Nelson, the drunk from prison. The drunk she’d sent Junior Ta after.

She approached the duo carefully as Henry pecked at the man’s right shoe; the left was nowhere in sight. Five feet away, she stopped as a ripe smell hit her nostrils. She coughed as she started breathing through her mouth.

“Ugh,” she heard herself mutter in complaint.

Unable to leave without Henry and unwilling to get any closer, she stood still and considered her options. The sun beat down unmercifully, aggravating the smell and increasing her discomfort with the situation as sweat rolled down her body. Aya watched the man carefully. If not for the irregular, ragged breaths he wheezed out, she would have thought him to be dead.

“Mister… Erm…” she began uncertainly. “Mister Nelson, are you okay?”

Maybe if she was able to wake him and encourage him to be on his way, she could get Henry back to following her. Less than a minute later, she knew it was not to be; she would have to get closer. She felt guilty enough about even considering throwing rocks at him instead of having to approach that she stopped complaining and even forced herself to breathe through her nose.

Her eyes watered at the stench but she knelt down and tried to rouse the man Henry was still pecking at.

“Sir,” she said loudly. “Sir, are you alright?”

Nothing.

She poked him, nudged him and eventually shook him, all to no avail. He just lay there, as conscious as a rock. Sighing, she took out one of the expensive water skins she had just bought and wetted one of the bloody scraps of cloth she had. She had clean ones, but she figured she was already wasting enough time and resources on the man as it was.

Patting his forehead and his closed eyes with luke-warm water finally got a little response from him as he growled in his sleep. Encouraged, Aya poured some more water onto the cloth before bringing it to his blistered mouth. For the first time noticing the state of his skin, she wondered how long he had been sitting there. Pity and guilt warred inside her at the sight.

The moment the man registered the wetness of the cloth he started sucking on it unconsciously. Aya couldn’t help being a little disgusted, but she brought the rag to his mouth over and over with more and more water. What felt like an eternity later, but was probably just a couple minutes, the man slowly came to life. He blinked sluggishly a couple times while his mouth opened and closed as he swallowed repeatedly. She could tell he needed water, but she couldn’t help feeling a little hesitant about just handing over one of her water bags. If she did, she knew she wouldn’t be using it anymore, not after that man drank from it.

Again, she felt guilt for merely having the thoughts and handed it over, slowly helping the man tip his head back to take one slow sip after another. A couple minutes later, he was definitely resuscitated, at least compared to the state she had found him in. But close up, she could see the man was severely ill. His eyes were yellow and bloodshot, his skin was pale and bruised where it was not sunburnt and his bones stuck out in prominently, hinting at malnutrition.

She wondered, not for the first time, if and how Henry knew the man. He probably did, otherwise he wouldn’t have come over here. Aya watched carefully as the man became conscious enough to register his environment. She wasn’t disappointed by his reaction to Henry.

His dull eyes lit up a fraction and he crooned through a raspy voice, “Hey, little buddy…”

Aya couldn’t believe this was the same man she’d seen just the night before.

He turned his attention to Aya and asked, “How’d you get ahold of him? Are you taking care of the others too?”

“Err… It’s a long story,” she said, answering the first question. “And… No?” she added, unsure of the second.

“Yes… Yes… It’s hard. They can be an unruly bunch…” he said with a faraway look to his sickly eyes. “I should be getting back to them…” He shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. “Here,” he said, holding out the water bag. “Thank you for your help, kid, but I really should be going.”

“Are you sure you…” she began as he struggled to his feet.

He ignored her words completely, so she found herself helping him get on his feet.

“I’m fine…” he rasped, finally standing a minute later. “Fine,” he added between coughs. “It’s just those stupid guards giving me a hard time,” he said as he started stumbling along the wall, using it for support. “Banning me…” he mumbled between ragged breaths.

“Can you believe it?” he coughed loudly, trying to raise his skeleton-like hand to his mouth, but it wasn’t fast enough. Instead, Aya saw drops of blood fly through the air with each cough. He wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand and kept going as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Henry was right on his heels.

“And this time… this time I didn’t even do anything. Forgotten Knowledge… Bah!” he croaked loudly, inciting a bout of coughs. “Who would be stupid enough to talk about that in public… Not me… Yet here I am…”

The man sighed heavily which again brought on a bloody coughing fit. This time, all Aya felt was a ton of overwhelming guilt crushing her with its weight. Her heart beat faster, blood rushed to her face only to drain out of it completely a moment later. She was responsible for this man’s situation, she needed to do something about it.

“Sir…” she said, slinging his skeleton right arm over her shoulders. “Where you headed, I’ll help you… for Henry’s… the LayHen’s sake.” She added, noticing his hesitation at her help.

He shivered as the last remnants of strength tried to leave his body and it steeled her resolve to help him. She had herself and her rank to think about, but she couldn’t leave the man be. Not knowing she was the one who had put him in the situation to begin with. Her mind knew he was just an NPC, but her heart knew that leaving him there would just be another step down the path she was trying to avoid. Real or not, he was still human. The real question was how long she’d still belong in the same category.

“Well,” he rasped, tearing her back into the moment. “Alright then. I’m going… home. It’s about a mile that-a-way.” He jerked his head toward familiar territory.

“Close to the LayHens?” she questioned.

“Yep,” he said, a sad look crossing his eyes. “They’re mine.”

“…Oh.” She said, more concerned about how she was going to get him there.

He didn’t weigh much, being mostly skin and bones, but her strength was laughable. The pack she carried was already weighing down on her as it was. The fact that it took her more than five minutes to walk 100m to a reasonably shady spot reaffirmed her decision to find an alternate mode of transportation.

Settling him down, she promised she’d be right back and headed back in the direction of town. It took longer to convince Henry to follow her than it did to get back to Xavier’s shop, convince him to rent her the use of his wagon and haggle the price down to something she could afford. The moment the blacksmith unhooked the bull was the moment she realized it wasn’t included in the deal. It had been too good to be true.

Aya tried to argue her point, but his expression and the fact she might need him later made her be on her way without further argument. She needed more time than she had right then to have the conversation she wanted anyway. At least, that’s how she framed it in her mind as she returned to the man.

By the time she got back to him, his slumped figure looked a little better. Nothing an expensive water bag and a slice of stale bread couldn’t do. Helping him up onto the back of the wagon, she realized just how necessary the wagon was. She slung her items up and got on her merry way.

Alright, it wasn’t so merry. The wagon was a bitch, a real pain in the ass. It was hard to move and even harder to get moving but she managed, somehow. By the time she made it to the halfway point, she had blisters on almost every finger on her hand along with a couple of her toes. Sweat was pouring out of everything. Her short hair was plastered to her face, making her wish it was shorter or at least long enough to tie up. She took a small break to drink some water and check on Nelson.

She’d expected him to be fine, but the moment she went behind the wagon, she realized he wasn’t doing too well either. The trip was taking its toll on him but she knew walking would only be harder. Feeling bad she hadn’t done it before, she took out all of her rags, furs and pelts and made him as comfortable as she could. Part of her couldn’t help feeling like it was a waste considering she’d never be able to use them again. The other part called that part a real asshole.

Her legs were shaking and she knew that if she didn’t start up again soon, she wouldn’t be able to for a couple of hours, so got down from the wagon and made her way back to the front. Henry squawked at her but remained in the back with Nelson.

The second half of the journey was considerably worse than the first. Just getting the damn thing rolling was a miracle in itself, and by the time she approached LayHen territory, she was literally crying in pain and exhaustion. She just wanted to jump in a cold lake, take a nap and eat some meatballs. She loved meatballs. The sauce…

Wracking coughs, exponentially worse than any she had heard so far, made her run around the wagon and jump up next to Nelson. His ribs were rising a foot in the air with each cough, violently slamming back down every time blood spewed out of his mouth. Aya was at a loss of what to do. Her own pains were immediately forgotten as she watched the man writhe in pain. She took his hand, gripping it, not knowing what else to do. His spidery fingers curled around hers with the barest hint of strength.

Aya waited for it to calm down like all the other times, but it never did. It just got worse. And then it got worse. Minutes that felt like hours went by until his cough finally started dwindling. She heaved a sigh of relief when the man she had thought unconscious croaked out words with noticeable effort.

“You’ve taken good care of him,” he said. “He doesn’t like you much, but I can tell you’ll win him over. You’re a good person.”

He coughed twice, she worried he would start coughing again. She worried he’d be unable to stop it again.

“Look, it’s okay,” she said. “I think it’s best you don’t speak right now. We should get you some—”

“No,” he said as firmly as he could with his weak voice. It was getting weaker by the second and Aya didn’t like the direction things were taking. “I need you to promise,” he said.

“…Promise what?” she asked uncertainly.

“Promise you’ll take care of them.”

She didn’t understand.

“Take care of them, my LayHens…” he said, a single cough escaped his lungs. Blood flowed down his mouth in a single line.

“No wait,” Aya said, her own blood draining completely. Her mouth was dry and the situation was out of control. She needed to put a stop to it before…

“Please,” he said, his eyes regaining a glimmer of life. “Please, I’ll give you everything I have. Just… take care of them…”

A series of windows suddenly popped up. One of them was the prompt for the contract he offered. Another held the terms and the other a list his assets. Her eyes tried to skim the windows’ words while keeping an eye on the man.

“Please…” he begged, eyes dulling.

Aya panicked, heart racing as she saw the life draining out of him faster and faster.

“Yes,” she blurted before it was too late. “Yes, I promise!”

The prompt window disappeared and a bunch of others took its place, Aya barely noticed. Her attention was on Nelson. His eyes cleared and the pain in his expression was replaced by one of peace. She felt joy for making it right with him before he exhaled his final breath.

And just like that, Nelson died, leaving her alone on a wagon with a corpse, a Layhen and an unread contract.