After one and a half confused hours and a new set of directions, Jasson found the Adventurer’s Guild - Stalt Branch. It stood a full floor above the other buildings, like an older brother in a family photo. Fresh red and gold paint decorated the Guild, a building in denial of age like a movie star with a now-wealthy plastic surgeon. Above the door a sign swung in the zephyr breeze, proudly displaying a circle containing a sword with wings.
This shouldn’t be too hard, Jasson thought, it’s like going to the store.
A bell tinkled as Jasson pushed the door open. Or tried to. The door stopped about halfway and wouldn’t go any further. After a couple of seconds, Jasson gave up and slipped through the gap. Inside he found a half-dozen tables, a two-story ceiling with swing-ready chandeliers, and a Mountain jamming the door.
To be more accurate, the door was blocked by the raised foot of a recliner armchair (size Oversized-Wide). The Mountain was the man relaxed on the recliner, making it look proportionally reasonable. Memorization glinted in the Mountain’s eyes like diamonds sparkling from black stone. The Mountian smiled briefly, as if seeing something he liked in Jasson, and the dark skin around his eyes crinkled merrily. Then the Mountain refocused on the book in his hands, stroking his black beard idly as he motioned Jasson forward.
Okay, Jasson thought, don’t get bounced. Gotcha.
Past the half-dozen tables was a long counter made of rich wood. This counter held five receptionist bays, but only one was currently occupied. The sole attendant, a lady of considerable attraction, stood and waved Jasson over.
Jasson found it difficult to avoid staring at the woman as he approached. Above a docile smile were eyes sharp as paper, the type that cuts across your knuckles when your guard is down. More than that, she was attractive in many ways that an almost eighteen-year-old was quite vulnerable to. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen (at least in person) and Jasson felt his mind immediately begin to fuzz.
“Hello there,” the attendant said perkily, “my name is Jane. How can I help you today?”
“Thank you,” Jasson said reflexively, “Umm…I would like to fill out an application. Do you have an online form?”
“Online?” Jane said, sitting down behind the desk, “No. We have paper forms, but none which need 'hanged on a line'. Are you trying to become an adventurer?”
Paper eh? Jasson thought, I can do that. I'm staring too much though.
“Yes.” Jasson said, unlocking his phone, “I heard there’s a fourteen-day free trial and I’m broke so…”
Good, Jasson thought as he navigated his phone, I have a signal in here. Gotta keep my eyes busy.
“I can enroll you presently,” Jane said, grabbing a form from a drawer, “Can you write your name? Or will you need help signing the documents?”
“I can sign my own name.” Jasson said, taken aback by the question, “Although my signature is sus. Why wouldn’t I be able to write?”
“Many can’t,” Jane said, “You must have been decently well off as a child to consider education normal. If only you could do sums.”
Jane laughed, then said, “Ah well, just do your best with this. Let me know if you need help reading the longer words. And don’t worry about filling everything out. If you don’t know what to put under ‘Abilities’ it’s okay. You can complete the rest of the paperwork once you figure yourself out. Just put down what you know, take your time, and I’ll fill the rest out for you.”
Jasson managed to relax as he scrolled, clearing his mind with some wholesome baby videos. Yes, the woman was attractive (even if she was degrading). But he was better than some simp that drooled over everything with amazing- um.... Yeah, he had discipline. Hopefully.
“Okay,” Jasson said, “How much is the subscript- I mean the fees? Once I get past the free trial that is.”
“The fees consist of two parts.” Jane said, “One coin equal to your rank per work day, and a flat ten percent tax on your earnings until you reach Copper Rank. It goes up to twenty-five percent at that point, but you also get access to Guild lodgings and other services as compensation.”
“Fantastic,” Jasson said, “What rank do I start in?”
Gold is about twenty bucks, Jasson thought, but what about the others? What coin will be my subscription? Probably lead, right? I can’t think of anything lower than that
“You will be starting at the lowest Wood Rank." Jane said, “So the smallest denomination of coin in the history of the guild. It’s a pittance to pay, but no one manufactures the coins anymore so you’ll have to pay up front. A single lead coin can get you twenty work days of fees.”
“Wait, lead’s not the lowest?” Jasson said, “What am I starting off as?”
“As I said, it’s a Wood Rank,” Jane said, holding the form out to him, “There’s ten of them, all worth less than lead. You will be starting in the Wood Ranks as a Driftwood Adventurer. Next rank up is Pine.”
“Ah,” Jasson said, taking the paper, “I see.”
Wow, Jasson thought, that’s worth squat. Twenty days from a lead coin? The gold’s only worth twenty dollars. How weak does this currency get?*
*(Coins like these exist in many countries which have over a 100-1 ratio with the U.S. dollar. Japan for example.)
“Just use one of the tables.” Jane said, handing him an ink pot and quill, “And be careful of the spilled beer, I dislike sticky papers.”
After finding a table Jasson laid out the application form, the quill and ink pot, and his phone. Jasson still couldn’t read the text and had to use TrainSlate to fill the form out. Thankfully, despite never using a quill before, Jasson found himself scribbling away naturally. Why would he have this skill built-in and not the ability to read? It took him a couple of minutes per question, but there were only a few places he could fill out anyway.
Shaking his hand out ten minutes later, Jasson stood and stretched before bottling his ink and pocketing his phone. Then Jasson made his way back to the counter and proudly slid the paper towards Jane. Jane looked at the paper, squinting and pulling out reading glasses as she tried to make out what it said.
After a few minutes, Jane set the spectacles down and sighed, saying “I hate it when I’m right.”
“What do you mean?” Jasson said, prickling, “I didn’t know how to fill out most of it. You said that it was okay if-”
“That’s not it,” Jane rubbed her head then plastered a smile on, “Are you sure that you can write your own name?”
“Of course,” Jasson said, feeling his neck start to burn, “And my handwriting isn’t that bad! Look, this is J-a-s-s-o-n.”
Squinting, Jane held the paper up to the light. Then she sighed again and shook her head.
“If you say so,” Jane said, “But…you do know that other people need to read this form, right? Just….tell me how to spell it. I’ll write your form out for you, okay?”
“What?” Jasson said, “No! I just spent all that time filling this out.”
“Well I can’t read a word you wrote!” Jane said, twitching the form out of reach and dumping it in the trash, “That’s fine if it’s a signature, but not for the rest. And I’m quite good at this. I would normally be able to read it, even if it was in Mench, but this is some kind of made-up gibberish!”
Recognition dawned in Jasson’s mind like a particularly old light bulb. He’d filled the application out in English, not whatever language they spoke here. Of course she couldn’t read it.
“Fine,” Jasson said, groaning as he swallowed his pride, “I’m sorry. You fill it out. Please. My name is Jasson Boar. J-a-s-s-o-n B-o-a-r. Do you need my middle name?”
“Wow,” Jane said, scratching away at the paper, “Feeling royal, aren’t we? Your parents even gave you a middle name.”
Two minutes later Jane finished storing the papers in the back and returned to the counter. She seemed less annoyed with Jasson and even smiled as she sat down. Then she opened a drawer in a cabinet under the desk and fished around in it.
“Congratulations,” Jane said, pulling out a round token on a string, “You’re an adventurer now. Advancement is determined mainly in two ways: Time spent on quests and money donated to the cause. ”
Jane tapped a wooden box with a word carved into it below a coin-sized hole. Jasson pulled up TrainSlate and took a picture. Then the robotic male voice said a single word.
“Tips.”
****
Outside the city of Stalt were farms and bloodless killing fields, but go a little further and you'll find a forest. Jasson did not quite understand what a real forest was. He thought that it was a bunch of underbrush and trees, filled with harmless animals.
In this case, he was correct.
“Tipping culture has gotten out of hand!” Jasson said as he dug through the underbrush, “I can’t believe that wanted a tip for that. I mean, all she did was write down a few words!”
Jasson sighed, rubbing his back as he looked around the forest floor, then said “At least she wasn’t rude when I couldn’t give her a tip.”
Spotting one of the herbs, Jasson knelt and pulled at it from the root. He wiggled it back and forth but didn’t have a shovel to dig the whole thing up with, instead digging into the loamy soil with his fingernails. There wasn’t any desperation beyond the fact that his muscles were already sore and the day was nearly over.
But if he brought back fifty of these flowers he’d get five copper coins, which had to be worth enough for dinner. Jasson would sleep on the street since it was summertime, and then tomorrow he’d find a better quest. He’d be okay.
The flower gave way with a snap and Jasson took a breath of rich earthy air, slight moisture speaking of a rain earlier this week. Jasson added the flower to his pile, almost having the first ten to bring back. He dusted his hands off and looked around for more. Thankfully this area seemed full of these flowers, and it would only take an hour or two to collect the rest.
Unfortunately, after only ten minutes Jasson found himself on his phone again. Bored, tired, and wishing for a sink to wash his hands in.
“Blast it,” Jasson said, holding his phone high, “No signal. And only that cat video and some games left.”
Reclining beside a rather pitiful amount of herbs, Jasson tried to find a game to take a break with. He could try Do-A-Lingo, and his finger even hovered above the button for a while. But since he had lost his streak Jasson just couldn’t see the point of getting started again.
“Plants vs Skeletons,” Jasson said, “Sandwich Surfer, Crepe Crush, hmmm…oh! Punching John.”
It was an old game, he’d basically only downloaded it because his mom didn’t like it. It had a 3D cartoon cat on the screen and you tapped it in various places to ‘punch’ it. The little cat had various funny reactions, and Jasson felt like venting his frustration.
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“What the heck?” Jasson said once the app loaded, “Why is this the camera?”
Jasson moved the view around, tapping on the screen. Nothing was happening.
“Well that’s cap,” Jasson said, “What the heck? Is it AR now?”
Then Jasson spotted something on the screen. A pale blue squishy-looking thing. It had a couple dots for eyes and moved like no creature he’d ever seen, hopping around like a gelatinous beach ball.
“Huh,” Jasson said, “Is Punching John a slime in this world?”
Jasson tapped it and sure enough the slime reacted, although it didn’t say anything. Still, that was better than nothing. Jasson kept tapping it in various places trying to find the weak point when-
Splat!
The slime died on the screen, oozing down into the forest floor.
“Boo,” Jasson said, lowering his phone, “Punching John never…dies…”
Jasson looked in front of him where oozing into the ground, the slime lay dead. Real and really dead.
“Woah!” Jasson said, looking at his phone, “COOL!”
Flower’s forgotten, Jasson wandered through the forest looking for monsters to kill. Slimes were pretty common, but he occasionally found a rather large and angry bug. He even gathered the corpses together, preparing to resell them. Now this was fun.
****
The doors to the guild were going to close soon. Jasson knew this because the Mountain behind the door had told him. However, that knowledge mattered little to Jasson as he burned with injustice, staring at the unimpressed Jane.
“What do you mean that I don’t get any money?” Jasson said, the whine evident in his voice, “I killed all these monsters! Don’t you have any quests for slime extermination?”
Jasson kicked the bag of bugs and slime. The slime was oozing through the holes as the bag became less impressive by the second.
“We have quests from farmers.” Jane said, visibly irritated, "Perhaps if there was an active infestation, which there isn’t, you might have gotten a reward for this. If we rewarded every idiot who killed a slime, then we’d be beggars in a week. But that's not what annoys me. You accepted a quest for at least ten Herbal Flowers, and then-”
Jane slammed the table, “THEN you didn’t bring back a single one! When you were practically picking grass! If you’re looking to sell the worthless monster bits then I advise contacting a #*&^ composter you-”
Jasson started angry swiping on his phone, doing his best to ignore Jane as she continued her rant. Jane took a calming breath before she continued.
Jane said “Although there is no punishment for a Driftwood adventurer failing the quest, you will quickly find that a hungry belly is punishment enough. The churches only feed you once per- ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!”
“Wha?” Jasson looked up from his phone, “Sure, sure. Don’t get creative with my work. Gotcha.”
“You-” Jane’s demeanor flickered dangerously and some of the pens started to rattle, “I’ll put it simply, so it might slide into that entitled void you call a brain. You ONLY get paid for the quests you TAKE. Now go away. We’re closing soon and the real adventurers need to report on their quests. Security? Grog, will you see this ma- this boy out?”
The Mountain in the recliner snapped his book shut, and Jasson let out a little squeak. This had escalated faster than he’d thought, and now eight feet of massive was glaring at him.
“Wha- security?” Jasson backed up, “Come on Karen, you’re going too far. I’ll go alright. Thanks for nothing.”
Jasson stormed from the building, neck burning as he heard sniggering from the adventurers. He’d had a good signal in there too, sometimes four bars! What had he done wrong?!
Eventually, Jasson found an alley to slump in with a view of the castle. It was too late now and all the pawn shops would be closed again. Where was a church around here?
Jasson got the feeling that they would be less inviting than the first one. Small-town churches didn’t have to deal with an endless stream of beggars like the city ones did. But what other options did he have? Even if he could get the coins out of VenGo a hundred dollars wouldn’t go that far.
Sunset came and went as Jasson fought the burning shame. Suddenly, a glow appeared in the corner of his eye. Squinting in the twilight, Jasson made out the towers of the castle. They were glowing at the tips, like radio towers, and the glow was slowly getting bigger.
“What the heck?” Jasson said, “Is that magic?”
A galaxy of floating lights drifted from the castle towers, making their way down to the streets. It was majestic, like a lantern festival in reverse, and Jasson lost track of the time as he stared. There was something mesmerizing about how it spread over the city like a blanket of light.
“I guess I messed up,” Jasson said to himself, “I’ve worked a job before. This is basically a contracting job. I’ve seen videos about those. Why did I think that they would be pleased with me wasting time? Gathering bits of monster to sell? This isn’t a game.”
Jasson sighed. He knew why. He’d gotten bored, so he wanted to make money horsing around. Nothing would come of an attitude like that.
After dumping the sack of monster parts into a gutter drain, Jasson pulled up his phone. One of the floating lights had stopped above him like a streetlight, so he had to turn the brightness of his screen up. He’d go looking for a church soon, but before he did there was a TikTik he’d-
Bzzt.
“Of course,” Jasson said. “Ten percent. I’m surprised it lasted this long.”
Groaning, Jasson turned off his phone to conserve power. If he remembered right, Kami said that he’d be able to charge it with magic. Maybe it would suck power from these floating lights?
“I really am pathetic,” Jasson said, “I can’t even go to sleep without this phone and a snack. This will be my first night going hungry too.”
Jasson looked out to where the castle towers glowed with light. The towers were so high that he could see them from most places in the city, providing a perfect landmark. They were beautiful, and Jasson could hardly believe that he’d spent all day ignoring them.
“I’ll do better,” Jasson said to himself, “I’m not the middle child anymore. This is a new life, a new story. I’m seventeen and on my own. No one to look out for me, no overpowered abilities. Just me and a world that doesn’t know what to think about me yet.”
Jasson laughed, chagrined. A little bit of the world did know what to think of him. Two days in and he’d made the prettiest girl he’d met hate him. He’d have to apologize to her tomorrow.
I swear, Jasson thought, I will make this life mine.
“It’s you, isn’t it—the one from before?” a feminine voice came from the shadows, “I’ve been searching for you. I assumed you’d be near the Guild, yet it seems you’ve ventured further than anticipated.”
Her words held no menace for Jasson, and he looked into the darkness beyond the street light. The woman’s outline grew distinct in his eyes as he made out the shimmering white of her dress and complexion. Then she walked toward him, shoes clacking as she joined Jasson beneath the magical light. Jasson sucked in a breath, eyes widening to take in as much of her as possible.
She exuded warm femininity, and her happy smile lit Jasson up like a light from heaven. She was beautiful in a way that reminded Jasson of walks in the park or a song on the wind. Even the salacious lights and shadows of the Evening did little to change her air of summer days.
“Sorry,” Jasson said, shrinking back, “you must have mistaken me for someone.”
“How humble,” the woman said, curtsying, “My name’s Clara. You distracted some thugs who were harassing us earlier. I wanted to thank you for that.”
Make a good impression, Jasson thought, roll with it.*
*(A nigh impossible feat for a teenage boy)
“Oh,” Jasson said, “You’re welcome. Sorry, I didn’t recognize you. I have a terrible memory for faces. Erm…what did I do?”
Jasson shifted awkwardly on the ground as Clara walked over, pressing himself back into the alley wall. Clara got close enough that he couldn’t look in her eyes anymore and Jasson prepared to stand. But instead, Clara gathered her skirts and plopped down beside him. Jasson felt himself blush as his thoughts chugged like an overheated old phone.
“You showed them something on your crystal,” Clara said, “something about cats.”
“Ah,” Jasson said, memory striking through the haze, “That’s right. Clever of me.”
They were criminals?! Jasson thought. I thought they were doing a TikTik challenge!
Jasson Gen Alpha coughed and said, “Why were they harassing you? The normal reasons?”
“No,” Clara said, puffing her cheeks, “they were black market buyers for an item my sister and I had. They were supposed to pay better than the guild, and we could avoid the taxes by selling to them. But they decided on bringing the difference to only a couple of silver more than the guild would pay.”
Jasson looked down at his phone and swiped, forgetting that it was off. He tried to refocus on Clara, a thankfully easy task, and completely missed the red flag.
“Anyway,” Clara said, “We’d have fought them if you hadn’t stepped in, which isn’t favorable. The {minor_plotpoint} gang would have held a grudge if we did. After that we were able to find a better buyer, so we’d like to repay the favor. Well, I say we but my sister isn’t too hot on the idea. But I insisted. You haven’t had dinner yet, right?”
Jasson’s stomach growled at the mention of food and Clara smiled knowingly.
“Come on now,” Clara said, getting up and dusting off, “No point denying it for pride.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Jasson followed her, “lead the way.”
Following Clara beneath floating lights Jasson watched the city of Stalt come to raucous life. Taverns roared into full gear and the ladies of the night waved beckoning fingers. Soldiers wandered armorless, snatched up by Lites and Laughter as if by some eldritch predator.
Sounds like she’s gonna feed me, Jasson thought, I wonder if they’d pay for a hotel?
Away from the main roads, and after a questionable number of turns, Clara led Jasson to a quietly humming tavern. A sign bearing a flying pig hung above the door, weathered and happy as it watched the guests below. Lit by several magic lights the patrons filled every seat, even the tables outside. The smell of roasting meat drifted through open windows, pulling Jasson towards the entrance.
To the right of the door leaned a woman who was unquestionably Clara’s identical twin. Except with short-cropped hair, masculine clothes, bandages on her arms, and gloves which glinted oddly in the night. She waved to Clara as they approached, scowled at Jasson, then pushed off the wall and met them halfway.
“So he came,” the woman said, “You better be right about him Clara.”
“He’s a good guy,” Clara said, then turned to Jasson, “This is my sister Petra. Petra this is…”
Jasson met Petra’s eyes and stopped dead. The tavern was well lit but Jasson didn’t need light to see her drilling into his soul. He was half surprised that her eyes didn’t glow. If Jane’s eyes had been sharp like paper cuts, then Jasson would need a trauma unit if he got on the wrong side of Petra.
It’s fine, Jasson thought, I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m not a bad guy.
Petra groaned and sighed, breaking eye contact as she turned to her sister and said “Clara, did you forget to ask for his name again?”
Clara blushed and Jasson rather courageously said “To be fair, I never offered it. My name is Jasson.”
“Well,” Petra said, holding out her gloved hand, “I can’t say if it’s a pleasure to meet you yet, but my sister did get something right. I owe you a fraction of thanks for what you did today. I personally think that you were being an idiot, but Clara has high hopes for you. Don’t let her down.”
“Of course,” Jasson took Petra’s hand, “I wil-aahaha!”
Petra practically crushed Jasson’s fingers, nearly making his knees buckle. What looked like a gem glinted on the back of her glove as she turned her hand indomitably to the top.
“Petra!” Clara said.
“Whoops,” Petra grinned evilly as she released his hand, “my bad. Forget my own strength sometimes.”
Be a man, Jasson thought, not a- Oh wow that hurts!
“It’s fine,” Jasson squeaked as he held his throbbing hand, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
And, oddly enough, the throbbing vanished once he shook his hand out. No harm done then, although Jasson didn’t know what to think of it. Did he have healing powers?
“Be nice,” Clara said, “Did you grab us a table?”
Petra winced and said, “I didn’t think that you’d find him. So no.”
“Petra!” Clara said, “What were we going to do for dinner then?”
“We have plenty of food at home,” Petra said, “we would have eaten that.”
Ah, Jasson thought, one of those people. There goes my hotel room.
“Gods,” Clara covered her eyes, “You're embarressing me! You don’t have to be such a cheapskate, you know? We have a bunch of extra money from the sale. We can afford this once in a while. It’s not even that expensive!”
At least Clara’s nice, Jasson thought, I wonder if they know a good place to stay?
Jasson tried to scroll again and saw the dark screen. He needed to figure out how to charge it ASAP. Did he have to insert something or would it charge wirelessly?
“I’ll go see if I can find a table,” Petra said, “Force someone out if needed.”
“No,” Clara said, “That wouldn’t work. Not for long at least.”
“Umm,” Jasson said, “I really don’t care how nice the food is. What I need is directions to a church. I have nowhere to stay for the night after all.”
They looked at him, and then Petra turned to Clara and said “No. We don’t have any sp- Clara! Absolutely not! We know nothing about him!”
Confused, Jasson tried to Clara for an explanation. Clara looked victoriously at her sister as if to say that this was Petra’s fault and she couldn’t complain.
Petra held Clara’s gaze for a few seconds before throwing her hands up and saying “Fine! What do I care?”
“Come on,” Clara said, taking Jasson’s hand and sending butterflies into his stomach, “Apparently we have food at home.”