For five generations my family has held back the tides of disease, injury, and death. Until me, we had always ultimately lost. Now, finally, I have achieved an unsteady stalemate and those ignoramuses would have me fall upon my sword.
- an excerpt from the journal of Vincenzio Barbieri.
The majority of all human conflict was born from miscommunication. Even an innocent man could be taken for a criminal because of illogical bias. This was my conclusion as I slung the bloody bundle of rat tails over my shoulder, sighing inwardly at the current state of affairs. Was there no such thing as a friendly, or at least neutral, interaction? Despite the recent tribulations, I was now faced with my favorite part of combat: going over recent gains, and looting.
It was with a note of pleasure that I noticed that both my Rust and Inferno Bolt had increased in level. Two hundred and twenty-five points in experience and an organic gain in Intelligence was the icing on the cake. At just over halfway to my next level, I was pleased, indeed.
As for the loot situation, Muram was a smoking slag heap, his armor still glowing a dull ruined red, and his equipment was unsalvageable, save for the naked Zulfikars that lay next to him. I felt no guilt at taking what I deserved, the swords would be worth a few coins, scabbards or not. Larynda and I quietly wrapped the fine curved steel, before placing them in her pack. The girl had recovered for the most part. In her, I suspected, was the iron that only a hard life could give. That, or she was simply adaptable in the way children were. Either way, it won her a pittance of my respect.
Tally was a different kettle of fish. The Inferno Bolt had struck her lower back, making a cooked and cauterized mess. Her earlier screams testified to a swift, albeit painful, demise. I flipped her corpse over and turned away as I saw her face, contorted in a final cry of anguish. This was the first woman I had ever struck, much less killed. Instead of feeling satisfaction for having dealt with a threat, I felt an overwhelming emptiness. Tally had been a significant danger, more so than Muram, and I couldn't simply let her escape. In a moment of introspection, I realized my weakness had led to her death. If I were truly strong, I wouldn’t have perceived the small woman as a threat at all.
It was a grim milestone. My magic hadn't identified her, so the death notification merely stated that I had ‘slain a human’ for a considerable amount of experience.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Acidic bile rose in my throat as I confronted what I had done. I suppressed it with a determined effort, knowing this was no time for weakness. With a tight-lipped smile, I instructed Larynda to loot Tally for valuables. It wasn’t in me to do the task myself.
Though I was finding the entire episode deeply unpleasant, it no longer troubled me in the same existential way it once had. The deaths of others no longer reminded me of my own. Iasis' words had not just taunted me—they had also given me hope and a renewed sense of purpose.
I busied myself by pretending to be on the lookout for other threats. Oddly, my thoughts turned to Zariyah and I wondered at what she was doing as I was running about in the sewers. And then Kidu, Cordelia, and Elwin. No doubt the Rogue, Elwin, was up to some manner of mischief.
“This one was loaded, she was! Got a few bits of jewelry on ‘er. Looks like a sapphire and a ruby ring. A silver bracelet… and a bunch of these paper things. The ones you say that are money, like…” intruded Larynda onto my thoughts.
I closed my eyes before I formulated a response, secretly delighted at being an opportunity to educate. “They have value. Their worth is derived by the trust we place in them, and not their material value, like for instance gold. If the majority of people believe a thing to be of value then that becomes the truth of it.”
“So, like, what's to stop ‘em from just making more then?”
“Nothing in the short term really. But in the long term, well… the people would lose trust in these scraps of paper, and with their loss of trust would also come the loss of their value.”
She mulled this over, rifling through the woman’s corpse before handing me a few notes. Feeling generous, I refused.
“Keep those… you’ve more than earned them. And keep anything else she had on her that might be of value. Isn’t that staff better than yours?”
“You really don’t know? Or you just testing me?”
I shook my head in response.
“To her… it would have been her focus. To you or me, well, it's just a piece of wood with fancy bits on it. Least that’s what the old biddy said. Ain’t you got one? You can use Mana, right?”
I was taken aback by her casual disrespect of the person who had introduced her to the mysteries of her element, but more so to her question. Would it be possible for me to craft one of my own? Or were there class restrictions on usable equipment?
“I don’t know how,” I said, feeling foolish even as the words left my lips.
“Well… don’t know if it's the same and all, but I can tell you how I made one, later if you like,” she beamed pridefully, chest puffed out and her hands proudly on her hips.
I was preparing a snarky response but realized it would do me good. Swallowing my pride I responded politely, “I think I would like that very much, Larynda.”
Her smile grew even wider, and for a moment I imagined I smiled back.