Unfortunately for me, Haylen and Kearse were still soldiers, and my sudden arrival at the camp didn’t exempt them from their responsibilities. Haylen promised to return as soon as she could before going off to organize her platoon for their switch to guard duty. Kearse likewise went off to be organized by Haylen for said guard duty.
This left me by myself for the first time that day, and I had only my thoughts to keep me company. They had grown dark over the years of my isolation, and I knew that allowing them free reign would force me into either an anxious depression or a giddy panic. I needed to keep busy and narrow my focus.
Planning ahead would be necessary, but I still knew next to nothing about the world outside of the city. Peninsula had been my reluctant home for nearly my entire life, and finding out that all of that experience was essentially useless had been a blow. I went through the same thing back at the witch’s house though, so it wasn’t as hard for me to accept as it could have been. Still, it felt like I had wasted a lot of time.
Since I was going to be alone for a while, I decided to take stock of my storage and make a list of things I would need to get from the city before I made my departure. If Haylen came back and saw it… Well, she had already seen me pull a wine bottle out of thin air, so seeing the rest didn’t seem like much of an issue.
When I had noticed the exit location marked on the map, I had been tempted to run out of the camp and leave the city immediately, but that would have been rash and stupid. Going with the expedition would make my transition into their society easier. Eager as I was, five days was a short time to wait, and the head start it could give me would be worth it.
Another reason I didn’t leave as quickly as possible was that there were still a lot of things at my home that I didn’t want to leave behind. My storage space was just that. Storage. Anything I was actively researching, studying, or tinkering with was on the other side of the city.
Either way, preparation was key, and a scavenging run would soon be needed. For life in the necropolis, I was probably over equipped, and anything I didn’t have could be found fairly easily. For life outside though, I was probably missing a few things that would only become glaringly obvious once I needed them.
I stepped to the back of the tent, opened the connection to my storage space, and widened the entrance until it was big enough to step through. Pulling something from the space took so little mana that it was practically negligible, and opening a door to it took only slightly more. Actually creating the thing though… that had taken a lot. A hell of a lot. I had to go on a weeklong zombie killing marathon just to get it started.
When I first made the storage space, it had only been about the size of a wardrobe or small closet. Now, it was a full room about twenty paces in any direction. Bigger is always better for this sort of thing, but it had reached the point where the mana required to increase it further was too stupidly large for me to manage.
I stepped inside and gave my personal vault a quick inspection. A soft light lit up the room just enough to make everything clearly visible. The walls, ceiling, and floor were a uniform dark grey and had a texture similar to linoleum. I could pull things out without needing to look or actually enter, but putting things inside with that method was much less accurate, and most of it ended up in a pile in the center of the room.
Honestly, it was a mess and the pile came up to my knees. The layout of the shelves and boxes I had put inside was fairly simple, and I did have an organizational system, but I rarely organized. Books and magical items were kept on shelves to the left. Food, drink, and anything else was kept on the right.
This was going to take some time to clean up. I grimaced at the thought, but needed to take stock of what I had, and with a storage space the size of mine, it was easy to lose track.
Food made up the largest portion of the pile, so I started with that.
“Cans of soup go over here. Cans of fruit go over there. Jars of spices and other ingredients go up top, and bags of the heavy stuff go at the bottom.”
The necropolis had a weird pattern for what food was still edible. Anything unprocessed like raw meat or fresh fruit and vegetables had rotten away and dried up so long ago that there was barely even dust left. Preserved or packaged foods seemed to last forever. It wasn’t a perfect pattern and didn’t prevent beer from going flat or frozen foods from melting, but it was still predictable enough that I didn’t have to worry about eating anything rotten by mistake.
No matter the variety, there’s something about canned food that makes it get repetitive very quickly. The thought of meat that actually needed to be chewed made my mouth water, and aside from a few apples, it had literally been a lifetime since I had had fresh fruit. I couldn’t wait to get out of here so I could try out some real cooking.
“I should have known this city had been abandoned for more than just a few years. I just hope this stuff doesn’t rot all at once when I take it away from the creepy zombie magic.”
Next to be put away were the books. They were one of the few things in my storage that I did organize regularly, so there were only a few in the pile, and they were all in neat stacks.
Most of my little library was literature. I had a decent selection of most genres, but avoided romance and horror. Romance didn’t really interest me to begin with, and only made me lonely. Horror I passed on because Peninsula was a horror story in and of itself. The last thing I needed was to give my imagination any new ideas on what might be going bump in the night. Scary things are scary. Just because I was willing to punch a zombie in the face doesn’t mean they aren’t still freaky as hell.
For non-fiction, most of the books were about magic. Magic was as varied and diverse as any science I had ever seen, but because it was so illogical, there were multiple opinions on everything, and multiple ways for doing anything. A lot of reading had to be done in order to understand any more than the very basics. I had more practical experience than when I started, but a large number of the tomes still had a lot of words that I couldn’t translate yet.
I had several books on the more practical sciences too. Understanding them was easier thanks to the knowledge of my past life, but a lot of that knowledge was faded by time as much as it was by my death. I didn’t read these as much as the others, but I would skim through them from time to time for a quick refresher. The scientific knowledge of this world appeared to have been a few decades behind my old one. The rule bending nature of magic had become so ingrained in their mindset that the scientific method wasn’t followed as strictly as it should have been.
My journals, now up to four volumes, sat with the witch’s notebook on a desk in the corner. I didn’t write an entry every day, but I used them for notes, and kept careful count of the time. As of today, I was six hundred forty six days old.
The last of the pile was mostly magical junk and a pair of mana batteries.
I picked up the mana batteries, and put them with the ones I already had. With this, my total collection was up to a nice round dozen. They had once been used to power cars, but I used them as an emergency backup, or for days when I practiced my magic. Each one was a solid glass cylinder the size of my head, with metal caps on each end, and a handle for easy lifting. The last time I increased the size of my storage space, I had drained eight of them from full capacity.
Despite being incredibly common, finding any that still worked was difficult. My best guess was that any that had mana inside them had broken when shit hit the fan. All of the batteries I had found in stores or in cars had been cracked or shattered beyond my ability to repair. After two years, I had only managed to find twelve that still worked. All of them had come from garages or repair stations.
Currently, six were filled with a pleasing cyan glow that represented months of carefully harvested mana. I couldn’t remember the last time my own mana had been full. If I tried to hold it myself, it would inevitably be leached away by the draining effects of the city. My preferred methods for killing zombies required very little mana, so I usually allowed myself to run on the bare minimum and stockpiled everything I could. As long as I kept the batteries safely in my storage space, they could hold the mana almost indefinitely.
“I kind of regret not shoving a car in here, but there’s no way I’d be able to fix it if it broke down.”
The magical junk was… junk, and I kept them in a stack of boxes rather than on the shelves. Most of it was gimmicky, and it was almost entirely useless. Toys and joke gifts for the most part. They were often fun distractions though, and if the world outside the necropolis was even half as “blasted back to the stone age” as I feared, they might actually be fairly valuable. My personal favorite was a small glass ball that always gave the impression of being upside down. No matter how many times you adjusted it, it always felt like it was facing the wrong direction.
Next to the food was the section for mundane things.
One shelf was full of metal ingots that I had collected for some of my projects. I hadn’t used as much as I thought I would, but some of it was fairly rare, and I would rather have them and not need them than need them and not have them. Most of it had come from cars. Those things had a great variety of metals to scrap.
“Maybe I can find a blacksmith or a metallurgist in Orlis that can help me identify some of them.”
Another shelf had boxes of blank paper, extra tableware, cooking utensils, and other such objects. There was also a wardrobe and dresser for my clothes. Overall, this section didn’t get touched as much as the others. A large portion of it was backups for things I already had at home. The shovel that I had taken from the witch’s house was given an entire shelf to itself. It had served me well when I first arrived in Peninsula, and had earned its place of honor.
There was also a moderately sized treasure chest filled with jewelry and other shiny things. I had started it so that I’d have things to easily pawn if I ever made it out of the city. Those hopes had faded, but I was now very glad that I’d continued to fill it up. It had mostly been a whim that kept me at it, because who doesn’t want to be able to say they have an actual box full of treasure.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
There was still a bit of a pile, but I didn’t need to bother with what was left. It was all things I used so often that there was no point in moving them. A sleeping bag and pillow. A jug of water. A few knives. A barrel of ball bearings that I could use as telekinetic ammo. Day to day sort of stuff. If I hadn’t lost my spear, it would have been left in the pile as well.
With the cleaning done, I felt a little bit less like a slob. Now that the shelves were a little more full, I had a much clearer idea of what I’d need to get before I left.
“I’m sick of canned food, but it can’t hurt to get more. Spices and other basic ingredients are a must since I have no idea what I’ll have access to once I leave. I should probably get a couple cookbooks too.”
“Hmm… There’re a couple book series I don’t have the complete set for. I’ll need to keep an eye out for those.”
“And… Camping supplies maybe? I’m not sure where I’ll be sleeping tonight, but I’ll need a tent of my own soon enough.”
“Oh! And clothes. I don’t know about what they wear outside of this place, but I am not going back to bras like the witch bought me. My tits have standards now, and they demand the comfortable caress of silk!”
I was about to start moving some shelves around to save space when I heard Haylen calling for me from outside the tent. I didn’t mind her seeing my storage space, but I wasn’t about to give her a tour of the place.
I hurried to the entrance, but stopped when I saw Haylen standing in the middle of her tent and staring at the big dent in reality that I had opened in the back. She wasn’t alone either.
“Shit!”
A woman appearing to be in her late teens or early twenties was standing next to her, eyes wide in delight. Like most of the humans in the expedition, her skin was tan, but not as dark as Kearse’s. Her long brown hair was almost black and kept back in a loose braid. She was wearing a dark green peplum dress that reminded me of a streamlined toga with two belts, one just below her breasts, and another around her waist. On her shoulders was a diaphanous black stole.
“Indigo, what is this?”
It was the same tone Haylen had used with Kearse when she saw the first wine bottle, and it made me feel like a kid who had just been caught with her hands in a subdimensional cookie jar. This was no longer something I could simply handwave away.
“Uh…” I said, trying to come up with an excuse.
“It’s storage magic!” the second exclaimed, practically squealing with joy at the words. “And it’s a big one! It’s as big as the archmage’s! Did you make this by yourself? How long did it take? You really can take mana from the cursed, can’t you? Can you close it while you’re still inside? Can you open the entrance horizontally?”
“Uh…” I said again. I was no longer sure where this conversation was going, and the woman continued to rattle off question after question.
Haylen coughed to interrupt the woman, and introduced us.
“Mayra, this is Indigo. Indigo, this is Mayra. She’s from the Mage’s Guild. She convinced me to let her talk with you but…” She looked back into my storage area, and hesitated. “I’m not sure if this is the best time.”
She had likely come here because she wanted to see the homunculus, but now her eyes were darting back and forth between me and the storage space I was standing in. I must have let a little of my concern show because the mage’s gaze locked back onto me.
“Oh no. This is a perfect time,” she began. “As Commander Haylen said, my name is Mayra Damfeld, and I’m here to apologize to you. Archmage Verdis can be… persistent in his search for knowledge. I cannot speak for him, but on behalf of the Orlisian Guild of Mages, I do apologize. I want you to know that your personhood is fully acknowledged, and there will be no further attempts to lay claim to you. We are still very curious about you, but your cooperation is yours to give, and not ours to take.”
It sounded like she had memorized what she wanted to say in advance, but I was still surprised at her words. Since Verdis was a leader of the expedition, I had expected most mages to have a similar attitude towards me, but now it seemed like his authority was a bit more limited that I had originally thought. I hadn’t had much time to think about how I’d avoid trouble from an entire organization of Verdises, so this came as a relief.
“Uh…” I was still processing all of what Mayra had just said. “Apology accepted? I not know what say about me. Not awake for creation. Person who make me dead before I wake up.”
“Damn. It looks like I’ve sobered up and I’m back to talking like a cavewoman.”
I pointed at the wine bottle still sitting on Haylen’s small table.
“You mind I drink? Little tipsy seem to help my words. Speak better.”
I stepped out of the storage space, but Haylen picked up the bottle before I could. She quickly popped the cork and took a long draw from it before handing it over to me. Her expression told me she’d needed it. I had intended to close the door to my storage before it could be mentioned again, but when I turned around to do so, Mayra had already stuck her head inside and was looking around.
“Is all of this from the necropolis? And… are those mana crystals? They’re huge! How did you find any that worked? And you have so many books too! Can you actually-”
She pulled her head out of the door and looked at me with awe. If I thought she was excited before, she was downright ecstatic now.
“You can read the Ancestor’s writing, can’t you?”
I went pale at the question. My face probably didn’t show it, but I could feel the blood draining from my cheeks. Raising the wine bottle, I chugged as hard as I could.
“Not want talk about it. Is for best. Step back please. I want close door.”
Mayra didn’t hear me. She had jumped inside before the words had even left my mouth. I swore and followed her in. Behind me, warily watching the edge of the door, Haylen stepped in as well.
“This is bad. This is bad. This is very very bad.”
Mayra had reached the bookshelves, and while she hadn’t pulled any off, she was practically fondling them as she ran her fingers down their spines. I knew she was currently eyeballing a cheap mystery novel, but she was gazing at it like it held the secrets of the universe itself.
“Please no touch my books,” I said, trying to sound stern and wishing that the alcohol would kick in faster.
Finally, Mayra remembered the concept of private property and quickly pulled her hands back down to her dress, but I could tell by the way she was gripping it that she was having trouble keeping them there.
Haylen had caught up at that point and was looking around the room in wonder.
“Why didn’t you tell the expedition leaders about this?” she asked. “If you can translate the Ancestor’s books then… It would be amazing. We could regain so much!”
“No!” I shouted emphatically. “No translate. Bad idea. Very bad. Some secrets best kept secret. I not know outside world. Maybe I overcautious. Maybe I wrong to worry. But if right, telling is bad. World not ready.”
I thought of what my old world would have been like if we had discovered nuclear energy a thousand years, or even only a hundred years earlier than we had. Most likely, there would have been a lot less people, and a lot more radiation. It didn’t matter if this world had magic and mages capable of throwing fireballs. Even giving them gunpowder could throw it all into chaos.
“What do you mean we’re not ready? If we had their wisdom, we could regain what was lost. Maybe we could fix the world!”
Haylen’s excitement was now matching Mayra’s, and I felt awful for needing to crush it.
“No! You think you ready? You think Ancestors wise? They not wise. They just people. Even they not ready. That why they dead! If Ancestors so great, why they zombies now? Ancestors were assholes. I not know how they break world, but not surprised.”
“I know you think they had made a utopia, but they didn’t. It was glamorous yes, but not nearly as wonderful as you believe. Not even close. Some of the things I read about in their history books made my old world’s darkest moments seem tame by comparison.”
Haylen and Mayra looked like I had just slapped them. For their entire lives, they had probably seen the Ancestors as the pinnacle of civilization. People who knew everything, and could do anything. And here I was insulting everything the two of them admired.
“Someday,” I continued, “you be ready. Someday, you not need Ancestor books to understand secrets. Someday, you be better than Ancestors. But today, you not ready, and secrets will destroy you. I not translate books. I not even give hint of book secrets. Not until I know is safe to tell. The secret that give cities light is same secret that make cities craters. I won’t tell, so don’t ask.”
“Oh. I see,” was all Haylen said. She looked heartbroken.
Mayra looked like she understood, but persisted.
“Is there really nothing you can tell us?”
I could feel the alcohol taking effect, but I took another drink just to be sure. In a flash of inspiration, I realized that maybe I did have something to distract her with. I waved for them to follow me, and led them to the boxes of magical junk. If I gave Mayra something interesting but largely useless, maybe she would have an easier time ignoring the books. If it was something she could figure out without hints, it probably wasn’t advanced enough to cause any problems.
“Choose one thing. Most of it is useless, but all of it is magical.”
I opened the lids, and Mayra went back to looking like a kid in a candy store. Haylen’s face was serious again.
“Indigo, there’s no way that they’ll let you take all of this out of the necropolis. We overlook small things. A ring. A fancy cup. A bottle of wine. They’re small. They’re safe. But all this? Impossible. And they’re not going to give you salvage rights just because we found you here. You just said the books are dangerous, so why do you keep them?”
I frowned. Now that I knew how to get in and out of the city, I could always stash my stuff somewhere and come back for it later, but once I left Peninsula, I wanted to stay left for as long as possible.
“I keep the books because I already know what they say. Even if I left the books behind, the knowledge would leave the necropolis with me. At this point, not understanding them well enough is more dangerous than understanding them completely. Now, what are salvage rights and how do I get them?”
“Salvage rights means you have permission to take things from the necropolis. Only the church gives them out, and they do it rarely. Father Gregor has a salvage permit, and it’s because of him that we can “overlook” the little things. Anyone under commander rank thinks they’re being sneaky, but really it’s only because Gregor lets them. But he’s not going to let you take all of this! As expedition leader, he could technically issue you a salvage permit, but he’s not going to do that for someone he just met today.”
At least now I knew what I needed. Father Gregor had seemed like a reasonable person in the brief time that I had met him. I’d probably be seeing him again tomorrow or the day after, so maybe if I showed him what I had, I could convince him to let me bring it along. If I could get a salvage permit, then even better. I’d have to tell him a few of the things I had left out during our first talk, but there was nothing to lose by trying. If that failed, I could always try to smuggle it out.
“I’ll think of something,” I said. “Find anything good yet Mayra?”
She was still digging through the boxes, but had arranged a small row of things that she thought had potential.
“A golem!” she declared, pulling out a small doll.
“Technically, it’s an automaton,” I corrected. “Much simpler. A children’s toy compared to a full golem. Also, that one is literally a children’s toy.”
“She’s beautiful,” Mayra said, and her eyes twinkled.
The doll was pretty. It was about two hands tall, and its brown hair and green dress made it look a little like Mayra, although its plastic skin and hair was of a slightly lighter shade.
“Are automatons that rare?” I asked. “Verdis called me an upjumped golem, so I thought you mages still knew how to make them.”
Marya looked away at the “upjumped golem” part, and sounded a little embarrassed when she answered.
“Well… No. We know how to make them. They’re just incredibly expensive. And this one is of such high quality. You never see materials like this outside of the necropolis. Does she still work? As a child, I used to dream that my dolls could talk or move. It’s what inspired me to learn magic in the first place. I can’t wait to open her up and see how she functions!”
She hugged the doll to her chest, and my earlier “kid in a candy store” analogy seemed even more accurate.
Once we left my storage space and I was finally able to close it, I sighed and took another sip of wine. The pile inside had been cleaned up, but the pile of things I still had to take care of was only getting bigger.