Jasson flew backward, crashing against a low wall as pain burst across him like fireworks. Agony seared across his back. Cold flew up his spine. Numb contemplation bled into his mind. The world slowed, a cup filling with dying thoughts.
“Warning,” a robotic voice said, “Death in 17…16…15…”
No! Jasson thought as the voice counted down. Oh gods. Why? It’s my second day! I can’t die here! I know there’s a next life but I don’t want to go yet! I haven't done anything!
If Jasson had been able to breathe he would have been hyperventilating like a trapped mouse. Instead, he lay blind and deaf as his body degraded. He could imagine how they’d find him; a hapless corpse of broken bones and flayed skin. The last impression he’d leave in life, just like in his previous one. Helpless. Useless. Dead.
I’m dying, Jasson thought as the counter reached twelve, Again. I wasted my second chance. Is it my fate to achieve nothing in life? Not a single dream fulfilled?
Suddenly the world spun and sparkled scarlet as Jasson’s vision came back into existence. Red light poured over him as he heard a voice scream through his ringing ears.
“DON’T YOU DIE ON ME!” the voice said, “CLARA! Watch my back!”
Why? Jasson thought. I’ll just end up wasting everything.
“I …see…anyth…,” another voice said. Clara’s. Her voice flickered, too dim for Jasson to make out more than an occasional word.
The cold in Jasson’s chest finally registered and he realized that his heart wasn’t beating. The counter ticked down to ten seconds of life left. 10 seconds remaining. A final countdown.
“9”
“Come on!” Petra said as some feeling ebbed back into Jasson, “Fight! It doesn’t work if you don’t fight! You have a lot to live for, you just haven’t found it yet. Don’t give up before you do!”
I want to believe that, Jasson thought. It is nice for someone else to believe…maybe I could but…it’s too cold…thanks though…
“7”
Jasson feebly made out Petra’s face above him. She really was pretty, with a tiny scar curving across her lip. He reached out, dreamlike as she swayed in and out of focus like a bad camera. Jasson touched her face, then let his arm fall back. Petra caught his hand and glared at Jasson, rage in her eyes.
“6”
“The gods preserve us,” Petra uttered like an oath, “You better not make me regret this.”
Petra moved down, placing both hands on his chest. She paused and took a breath.
“5”
“LIVE!” Petra screamed, and light exploded. It roiled across and into him, filling Jasson with the hot fire of a beating heart.
I WILL!
Jasson grasped her healing hand with a heart of zeal, pulling himself like a drowning man claws onto the shore.
Jasson lurched, gasping desperately as the world fell into place. Details flew together from the reality he’d almost left behind. The rubble dug into his back as dry grass itched at his skin, not-so-friendly reminders that he was alive. Clara perched on a nearby wall, holding a giant sword at the ready, graceful in a nightgown with a large stitch along one side. Petra was staring at Jasson, moonlight glinting off scarlet dust sifting through her fingers. There were tears in her eyes and, as Jasson met her gaze, an understanding passed between them.
“About time,” Petra said as she stood, keeping below the walls as she tucked the dust in a pocket, “I’m sorry we got you involved in this. They’ll be hunting you now. We should have warned you. Can you run?”
What? Jasson thought, does she think that we’re under attack? Fair. How do I say that it was my fault?
“Any sign of them Clara?” Petra peaked up to look around, “That was light magic, some kind of missile by the sound of the explosion. Decently advanced so we might have to leave the base until we can get the right crystals.”
“I’m sorry,” Jasson said, the words coming easier than he’d thought they would, “It’s my fault.”
“What are you apologizing for,” Petra said, guard flashing up in her eyes, “Did you betray us?”
Jasson shook his head and said “No, although that would be less embarrassing. I was trying out some magic and hit myself. Hard.”
Petra visibly deflated and she actually smiled, straightening out and laughing as she said, “It’s fine Clara. This idiot hit himself with a spell. That’s what you’re saying, right?”
Jasson smiled wearily and said, “Yup. Oops. I owe you a healing crystal now.”
“Thank goodness,” Clara said, hopping down from the wall, “Jasson, be careful with magic! Didn’t you see the scars on Petra’s arms? I was so worried about you.”
“I wasn’t,” Petra said quickly, “I was glad that you’d be taking the hit for us. Better you dead than me.”
Jasson raised his eyebrows at Petra, who turned away. He couldn’t see much detail by the light of the moon, but she might just have flushed red at that.
Probably out of anger, Jasson thought. She’s upset that she actually cares about my life.
“Sure,” Jasson said, looking at the crystal dust sticking to his shirt like glitter, “Thanks for healing me. It’s…wow. Amazing. I feel fine now.”
Jasson stood and examined himself, finding that his clothes were remarkably intact. The wall Jasson had hit was cracked from the impact, yet his shirt had only two holes and a tear in the sleeve. A welcome bit of unrealism since he didn’t have a change of clothes to fall back on.
“You’re not welcome,” Petra said, “You owe us now. Big time. That healing crystal was over two hundred gold!”
“Of course,” Jasson said, “I would be dead without you. I’ll have to find a way to pay you back-”
Jasson felt the reality of what happened set in. If Jasson was to believe the voice then he’d been five seconds away from a full and final death. He’d literally blown himself up on the second night. That was blown up twice in three days, which was bad for his health and terrible for his self-esteem.
How do I pay her back for saving my life? Jasson thought. It’s not like taking her out to eat would be enough. And I don’t think that she’d appreciate being paid in W-bucks. But…it would be wrong to do nothing.
“Thank you,” Jasson said after a few seconds, “I screwed around and found out. You saved my life. I…I’ve never had my life saved before. What can I do?”
“Start with two hundred gold,” Petra said, huffing and crossing her arms, “It’s blasted hard to do quests without a healing crystal.”
“He’s talking about a life debt,” Clara said, nudging Petra, “Come on. Tell him the traditional solution.”
Petra looked at Clara for a long second and then sighed, saying “Fine. You get your way. Paying back a life debt is simple. You either serve them for life, pay off a sum to be determined by them, or save their life in return. So you-”
“So you’ll have to stay with us,” Clara said, grinning, “We need a lot of help going forward and you’ll need to pull your weight and then some. Eventually-”
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“Clara!” Petra said, “He owes his life to me. I decide how he can pay it back. I’m debating monthly payments.”
“Come on Petra,” Clara said, “We gotta start somewhere! He’s as good a place as any, and he’s already in the guild.”
Jasson was still determining what they were implying, but this was obviously an extension of an earlier conversation.
Petra groaned and said “Look, I’ll decide in the morning. Let’s just go to bed for now. It’s late, plus I tapped out all the mana I wanted to use for traps anyway.”
Clara protested but Jasson agreed. The day had already been exhausting. No point in making it longer.
****
For Jasson, Life Debts was something confined within the cheery UI of TikTik or between the pages of a book. Someone saved your life so you swear that life to them. Poetic if cliche.
But as Jasson tossed and turned for sleep he found those deadly moments flashing in his mind on repeat. His mistake, the pain ripping through him, the helplessness encompassing his whole being. Then the blessed light, a merciful heat piercing through the chill of death. Petra’s panic and concern, her ferocity turned not into insults but into passionate care. She might not have been an angel of mercy, but there was angelic mercy within her.
Yeah, it had been nothing but death threats for the past hour, but those words lost the sting that once made Jasson resentful. Petra had a lot of pain in her, and it screamed from her lips the moment she thought that he was dying. That deserved his devotion.
Even if they decide I can stay, Jasson thought, should I? It’s clear that they’ve been expecting attacks. Who are they running from? I will probably get caught in the crossfire if I stay. But…it’s not like this world is a safe place. The battlefield made that clear yesterday.
These girls needed help. They may be a hundred times stronger than him, but they still needed help. It was an odd dichotomy. Jasson was someone who, beyond basic chores, had never been asked to help and never been needed. These were women out of his league in every way. How could they want his fraction of aid?
What would he be able to do? Could the effort he made actually be worthy of these women? What would he do if he dragged them down, getting in their way or even getting one of them killed?
On the other hand, Jasson thought, I will get better as well. Stronger. I don’t know what else my phone can do, but I know that that spell was powerful. Then there’s the other apps as well, like Punching John.
Jasson laughed to himself as sleep finally claimed him. At the very least he could squish slimes and bugs for them. Mister pest control at your service.
****
Breakfast was an education in eggs and early birds. Jasson found, to his great surprise, that he rose early. Even after staying up another hour charging his phone, Jasson had risen with the sun. The summer sunrise woke him as it peaked through the holes in their walls, painting pink beams of morning for Jasson’s bleary eyes.
Clank!
Sizzle…
“Ouch!” Petra said, “You #$%$&^ dirtwad excuse for cooking oil.”
Apparently, Petra’s fire resistance didn’t extend to frying oils. Petra bustled in the kitchen and the smell of frying eggs tried to wipe the sleep from Jasson’s eyes via the nasal canal. Grumbling, but not loud enough that he might lose breakfast, Jasson got up. He rubbed his eyes and cast his bleary gaze around.
Could be a nice breakfast. Jasson thought in half-asleep judgementalism. A couple of eggs and some toast maybe?
As Jasson stumbled out of bed, he was greeted with the sight of a table spread with approximately two dozen eggs cooked four different ways. For three people it was a mountain of protein that had been boiled, fried, scrambled, and omeleted.
“Umm,” Jasson said, approaching the table, “I like eggs as much as the next guy, but don’t you think this is excessive? It’s just breakfast.”
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Petra shot back, “And I don’t intend to feed you lunch. Besides, I haven't even gotten the bread out yet. What you’re looking at is a light breakfast.”
Now, Jasson was not impartial to having four eggs for breakfast when he was really hungry. But it seemed that last night’s dinner had filled his appetite to multi-pound levels. Would she be offended if he didn’t finish his plate?
Jasson helped as he could, which meant going to the bathroom and leaving Petra alone. When he came back his plate was pre-piled with eight eggs and half a loaf of bread. Despite himself, Jasson felt his mouth watering as his stomach growled.
I’m gonna gain weight at these portions, Jasson thought, maybe that’s to keep me from running away.
Petra was kicking Clara’s bed, saying “Come on sis. Get up. Time for breakfast.”
Clara sat up muzzy and fuzzy, hair an absolute mess as she looked around. Clara tried to lay back down but Petra caught her and hauled Clara bodily to the table.
“Get started,” Petra told Jasson, “We have a lot to do today.”
“We?” Jasson said, “Am I included in that we?”
Petra was quiet for a few seconds before saying “Yes.”
“Really?!” Clara perked up, sleep banished as her eyes alighted upon the world, “Oh thank you sis! I love you! Thank you!”
Clara flung herself at Petra, hugging roughly in the way only a sibling could.
“I know so get off,” Petra said, prying Clara off of herself, “Let’s have breakfast. Jasson, by your tone I assume that you accept?”
I spent all night thinking about this. Jasson thought. Time for me to Cook!
“Not a lot matters to me in my life except that I go on living.” Jasson said, “You ensured that I could, and so I cannot help but feel strongly about my debt of honor. It would be my pleasure to help as I can.”
Petra smirked and said “Really? You accept before you hear the terms?”
Jasson hesitated and scanned what he had said, then said “Umm…for safety’s sake I must mention that I never directly said that I accepted. What are these conditions?”
“Simple,” Petra said, “And since we seem to be procrastinating breakfast, let me get into this.”
Petra pulled out a document and said “I spent all morning writing this up, but I’ll read it out loud since you probably can’t read at all.”
Jasson decided not to mention that he could read, if only with the assistance of his phone.
Petra coughed and said, “Jasson Boar. Until the day you save our lives more than we save yours, you will be in our debt. For this debt, you will pay it off through service to our cause. This cause is building this House, the very structure of our future. Brick by brick and coin by coin until this house stands proud. Then your life debt(s) will be fulfilled. Your goals shall align with ours, and our dreams shall be yours. Do you agree?”
“Oh sure,” Jasson said, “That sounds reasonable, where do I sign- Are you kidding me? Build this whole place?! That will take decades! And I doubt that I’ll ever save your lives more than you do mine.”
Petra grinned predatorily, enjoying Jasson’s reaction as she said “Good. You’re finally thinking. However, decades is perfectly reasonable. That’s why it’s called a life debt. It can be for life. Of course, you could die saving us. Then we’d pay for your tombstone and call it even.”
Jasson twitched and tried to stare Petra down, but gave up and said “You’ve got a point. Clara, I would like a second opinion. Do you think this is fair?”
Clara twisted her nightgown for a few seconds before saying “Jasson, I understand that you’re new. But this is an extremely forgiving life debt. Most ask for the full lifetime, some even require generations, but Petra is only asking for you to stay until the house is done. And don’t underestimate yourself either. I expect you to get strong enough to save our lives soon enough, just not in the ways you expect. And if you really don’t want to stay, then you don’t have to sign. We’re not forcing you.”
Taken aback, Jasson nodded. This lined up right, and Jasson supposed that he had been shocked by the implication of a lifetime’s work. He wanted to retire at forty after all. But…well it wasn’t like he was doing anything else. Jasson didn’t have anywhere else he’d rather be and he did love this dream of theirs. It was a beautiful thing, a rise to glory from tragic adversity, and it was a goal leagues above the TikTikers he watched. Most of them anyways.
‘If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there.’ Jasson thought, remembering the quote from social media somewhere. (Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll 1865)
“Okay,” Jasson said, “Until you don’t want me around I will swear to this contract. Is that enough?”
Petra nodded and jotted a couple of things down on the contract, then handed it over with a quill. On the deeply scarred table, beside a happy plate full of eggs and bread, Jasson scratched his literal life away to a girl he’d only met yesterday.
This would be considered naive, right? Jasson thought, chagrinned. I guess I am an idiot. Ah well, at least the girls are cute.
End of A New Home Arc
****JASSON’S STATUS****
| Strength | 100
| Agility | 120
| Intelligence | 147
| Wisdom | 85
| Charisma | 90
| Magic | 52
| Stamina | 91
| Luck | 152