On the weekends, they give most of us outdoor workers both days off, it's mostly just to keep us out from underfoot when the Marrows have their various events and parties. The wealthy clans and families back home were like that too. Constantly throwing little events. It seems that in some ways wealth wasn't that much different than physical power, in that for the influence that came from merely possessing wealth to last, it seemed you had to constantly be using it in some way. Flexing it like a muscle. For instance, I’m pretty sure today’s somebody’s birthday. I heard some of the maids in the kitchen talking about how much work the preparation was.

I’ve never used my days off for much. I don’t have a family, I don’t have any friends...and I’m eleven, so it’d be weird if I already had some vices to indulge. At most I’d go into town and buy some treats for myself, but then again, while the whole household was preparing for the next big event there’d be plenty of treats that we, staff, could have for free. Throw-aways that were made as test-batches, to make sure that the stuff for the main event came outright. Then there were also the leftovers from the last event. I always had a couple of “those” stored in my system’s inventory.

If I was “really” feeling extravagant, I’d pay twenty coppers so I could enter the local public library, read some books, and watch or play, some old-world media. Most of the time though, I’d just spend the weekends in my bunk, in the employee dormitory. I’d pretend to sleep while frantically, diligently, “clicking” on the stats that weren’t already getting constant love via talent investment. I’d actively “study” my stories two. I’d burned through my potential until I passed out. Then when I woke up and more potential had been generated, I’d burn through that as well.

This weekend though, this weekend was different. My recent revelation with that iron-scaled viper had led me to do some serious thinking. There was wilderness everywhere. Our universe was a magical universe, the [Tale of the Empty-Archivist’s Heir] told me that meant it was bigger than “non-”, or rather, “less-” magical universes. Apparently, consciousness, life itself, and the very existence of the soul was a type of magic. A whole bunch of other things were magic too, but their ubiquity and seeming mundanity made people treat them like they were something less than miraculous. The more noticeable magic was also pretty common but it was uncommon enough for it to stand out, because it did stuff like mess with how gravity worked and made universal expansion happen on a different scale.

And...I’ve gotten distracted again...What I was trying to say was that magical worlds were bigger than the non-magical kind. Our shattered world had broken up into a bunch of habitable “pearls”, or moons, by the shattering. Or rather, the immortals, gods, and some group named the HOA made the Pearls habitable, bringing life back to the shattered world.

Before I digress again, I’ll stop by saying that...our pearls were many times larger than your average, non-magical, alternate- "Earth”. The pearls weren’t hundreds of times larger, just being moons, but they were still larger by at least a dozen times or so. That meant a whole lot of largely unexplored, largely unclaimed, wilderness.

Some of that unclaimed wilderness lay right beyond the city I lived in. There was a forest on the outskirts of the city. It was more of a jungle, really. High-humidity, thick coverage by the upper-canopy that left the deeper, more densely wooded, parts bathed in gloom, lots of creatures with either too many, or too few, limbs. I wasn’t so bold as to say I planned to delve into that forest’s depths, but I was definitely willing to wander its outskirts hoping to find something that I could hunt, consume, and assimilate.

As for my equipment, while I didn’t have much in the way of armor, the Marrows had tons, literal tons, of those cheap pest extermination spears. They were cheap things made of alchemically-created fiber-glass, wood, and pig iron. So long as I wasn’t too obvious about it, and didn’t take too many at one time, I could use those with little reservation.

*************************************************************************************************************

To leave the city and reach the forest I had to go through the western-gate. I hit a snag because there was a guy there who just wouldn’t stop asking why I was going out exactly and why. He wasn’t triggering any red flags for me. I didn’t think he meant me ill. He was just really annoying. Eventually, though, he let me go.

“Remember to be back before sundown, the city gates will be closed then and they won’t open until the next morning,” said the city-guardsman at the gate. Giving me a stern warning that felt a little bit intense, and maybe just a tad condescending, until I remembered that I still barely looked my eleven years of age.

Looking back at past experience, I figured he might be one of those guards who was a parent, and was super aware of kids because of it. Their kind was always the best, and worst, for me to have to deal with. On the one hand, they were the most likely to go easy on us street kids if we were caught doing something. But on the other hand, they were also the most likely to catch us. I couldn’t rely on the invisibility of my youth to get around them. With that in mind, I suspected if he could stop me from going out at all, he probably would have.

“I will, sir. Thank you, sir,” I said. Nodding tamely because there was nothing to gain from arguing with the man, and I could roughly tell that his intentions were good.

“Alright, well, off you go, son...And do try to be careful,” said the city-guardsman. Gruffly letting me off, but that last bit made me label him as the soft-hearted sort. I was guessing that he probably had a lot of kids of his own and was seeing one, or more, of them in me.

*************************************************************************************************************

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

Once I’d gone through the city’s gates, and after a bit of walking, I found myself on the edge of the forest. It took a few minutes of building up my courage to actually make myself go into the forest. I felt pathetic and silly standing on the edge of the wood like that, but my brain had picked the absolute worst time to make me remember the last time I’d gone into the woods. I could remember being chased. I could remember the blood and the screaming. I could remember my tears and the urine soaking through my trousers. I ended up wasting a perfectly good breakfast and barfing in some bushes.

In time, I “did” eventually manage to get my act together. All that talent invested in Wisdom seemed to have paid off. Making my young mind stouter and quicker to recover from blows. I recovered from my episode and then after a single backward glance towards the city, I entered the forest properly.

The forest was as I’d expected it to be. Humid, dimly lit, and very green. I was still technically on the outskirts of the forest, even if I was no longer in sight of the city. I wandered around for a bit. Then I got lucky and ran into a horned-rabbit. That would be my first kill for the day. It was as expected an easy kill, barely enough to count as a fight. I killed and assimilated three more horned-rabbits before I ran into my first serious threat.

I’d run into a sabertooth-squirrel. The creature was about the size of a small horse, and it had teeth like, well….sabers. Also, it had the typical razor-sharp, bark-stripping, claws that even regular squirrels had. Someone once said that squirrels were the drug addicts of the animal world. Twitchy, paranoid, unpredictable creatures. Sabertooth-squirrels were no different, the mixture of aggression, and electric unpredictability, made it hard to cope with the creature. I only managed to kill it after narrowly avoiding getting my stomach split open.

As my system absorbed the creature’s corpse, I stood panting by the side covered in sweat, blood, and maybe just a little bit of pee, because that sabertooth-squirrel was actually one seriously tough customer. I checked my Idle-clicker system and my mood immediately shot upwards as I saw that I’d gathered enough potential to purchase a few more units of talent. Enough for me to add another stat to my roster of permanent investments. I wasn’t entirely sure which stat would get added to the roster. I was leaning towards Perception. Then I heard a snap of a twig, and the crunch of grass behind me.

I ducked and rolled out of the way, in time to avoid getting my head torn off by a twin-tailed wild cat. The beast must have been drawn out by the smell of blood and the sounds of fighting. Though I was already more than weary, I prepared for yet another fight. Then a ball of fire came from overhead and immolated the monster cat. I turned towards the direction where the flame had come from and saw a familiar face looking down at me.

“M-, Miss?” I said. Feeling a little nervous. Suddenly aware that I was still holding “borrowed” property.

“Hi…” said Jacqueline.

“Thank you for the assist,” I said. Rubbing the back of my head, while trying to keep my expression calm and natural.

“Don’t mention...So, you’re a system user…” said Jacqueline.

I froze. The whole world froze. I’m pretty sure my heart stopped beating. Then I calmed myself.

“N-, no, I’m not...I wish it were so, though. I hear those guys tend to be quite powerful if they survive…” I said. Laughing nervously.

“No need to lie...I know because I have my own secret powers...Have you ever heard of the Witch’s Eyes? It’s a side effect of my core-treasure, my “Old Witch’s Grimoire”...Er, if you haven’t heard of that, how about eyes of true-sight?” said Jacqueline. Looking and sounding like she was boasting a little near the end.

My eyebrows shot up. System-holders weren’t the only folk who had to be careful in regards to letting people know about their core-treasures. There were many kinds of eye-type core-treasures, but the eyes of true-sight were almost as rare and as sought after as the systems. True-sight allowed one to see straight through the essence of all things, and in some cases it could allow one to see the ripples and folds of time and fate.

“Re-, really?” I said. Skeptical. My brow furrowing because I felt like there would be all sorts of rumors and gossip amongst the staff if the Marrow clan had such a promising young scion.

“Yes, really...But like I said. It’s a secret. Since I don’t have a mom, I can’t tell anyone, or wear special glasses to stop the headaches. Otherwise ‘those’ people will scoop my eyes out to either sell, or worse, give to my stupid siblings,” said Jacqueline. Now looking a little nervous too, as if she just realized the enormity of her revelation, but also looking weirdly relieved like this was something that had been on her chest and she was glad to have told somebody.

The [Tale of the Empty Archivist's Heir] allowed me to know when someone was lying or not. That truth detection wasn’t really a discrete ability all on its own, so much as it was a strange awareness that apparently came part and parcel with knowing the truth of all the materials within the archive that I’d eventually have to look over. Like a skilled editor being able to know that a volume of a book has a typo because they’ve already seen the work enough times to know what was really supposed to be written there. That being said, my truth-detection was an ability that had saved me time and time again, while I wandered alone, often relying on the kindness of strangers.

The only issue was that in my experience families were supposed to love and take care of each other. So, it was almost unbelievable to me that a family could be so cruel to one of their own. Yet, I had also seen that there are all sorts of circumstances out there. Many of the kids that I’d seen on the streets weren’t orphans, but were either children who’d been thrown away, or youth who’d decided that they were better on their own.

After a few minutes of not knowing what to say. I just said,

“So, um...What now?” I couldn’t help wondering if this meant that I’d have to quit my job and run away.

Jacqueline blinked.

“Uh….I don’t know. I didn’t think this far ahead. I didn’t even intend to follow you. I just sorta saw you leaving the estate and well, since no one ever pays attention to little old me, I had time to kill...so here I am. I don’t even know why I told you about my secret...Shit. Um, how do I keep your secret, if you keep mine? I think that’s where I was going with this?” said Jacqueline. Losing her haughty and imperious air, in her flustered state.

“Um...Sure,” I said. Not really seeing a choice here, but consoled by the fact that Truth-Detection was saying that she apparently meant what she was saying and was unlikely to betray me.