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Chapter 3: Threads of Discovery

Chapter 3: Threads of Discovery

She had me cornered. Minutes of running felt like hours as I attempted to dash and scramble through unfamiliar stone streets. It all culminated in an out-of-shape tailor scrambling up a cast-iron fence. She pulled me off effortlessly while I hung, swinging my limbs like a newborn animal attempting to flee its handler.

She was strong; despite her appearance, I would have to ask Broke if that had something to do with skills. I'd have a lot of time to talk with either jail or slavery in my near future.

She carried me through the street like a spectacle. Merchants, children, and even some animals seemed to watch in glee as she held me helplessly aloft.

"Please!" I begged. "You don't understand this is all a mistake. I'm innocent!"

"Right." She replied unconvinced.

I'm sure my rags didn't help sell my case, and to make matters worse, I realized I was clutching the materials I disassembled in the clothier earlier, which led to a rather unsavory idea.

The way that I saw it, I had three options.

Option number one; spend the rest of my life in indentured servitude. Most likely serving as some child emperor's manual labor until my early death.

Option number two; disfigurement, likely my hands. That disability would make repursuing my passions as a tailor near impossible.

And finally, option number three; is the least honorable of all the options. But, seeing as there's no other way to free myself or outrun my surprisingly brawny captor, I'm left with no other choice.

I swung my body just violently enough to grip her sword belt.

"Let go. Before I make you let go." She threatened.

I saw the strange sigils appear across the holster. And just like the last time accepted whatever command prompted me. I somehow effortlessly reconstructed a leather sheet and coarse string from my captor's belt. Her sword clanged against the ground while she dropped me in an attempt to catch it.

"What did you-?" She started before locking eyes with me.

She dove for the sword attempting to reach it first, but I had different plans. Instead of the blade, I put my hands across her back as she lept to the ground. Then, following the same prompt as before, I removed her cuirass. Finally, I threw the newly acquired bundle of materials to free up my hands.

"I'm really sorry about this," I said, gripping onto her underclothes and accepting whatever the strange prompt asked one last time.

She got to her feet and gripped the sword. I stood back, dropping folded canvas to the ground between my feet and sticking my hands up with the palms facing her. I quickly averted my gaze.

"You... uh." I blushed. "Your uh, clothes."

"What about them?"

She looked down in shock as if suddenly aware of the newfound breeze. I scooped the pile of materials off the cobblestone and took off running in her moment of distraction, praying that her lack of attire would be enough to stop chasing me. But, as I turned to check behind me, I discovered it was not, in fact, enough.

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I'm sure many people would desire to be chased by a woman wearing nothing but a pair of leather boots while brandishing a sword. However, I'm not one of those people. Well, I may have been but definitely not after today.

She was gaining on me again faster than before. I'm not sure if it was her lighter attire or her intense rage, but whatever distance I had put between us with my distraction was almost entirely depleted. That was okay, though; I was near my target.

Even the city's outskirts would end soon. Despite her rage, I knew she wouldn't chase me deep into the forest completely naked. If she was willing to, that probably meant I upgraded my punishment from slavery to instant death. As I hit the city's edge, I spun to see how close she was in tow. She'd stopped following about a few buildings back, to my delight. My foot swung into the open air as I missed a step. Then instead of stumbling, my other foot swung out from beneath me.

Per your instructions, I'm letting you know this fall may kill you.

I awoke several hours later needing to pick myself out of some shrubbery, pulling branches from nooks and crannies I've never had foliage enter before.

"Broke. What the hell was that back there?"

Per your instructions, I alerted you to a lethal fall.

"No, not that. But now that we're talking about it. If something is about to kill me, please let me know with enough time for me to DO something about it.

Potentially.

"Great," I replied sarcastically. "How did I pull apart that clothing in the shop? And then again against that guard?"

The item breakdown was part of the Exotic Skill: Material Reclamation.

"Skill?"

I left a pregnant pause waiting for Broke's response. Then I remembered my spectral friend's finickiness.

"Broke. What's a skill?"

Skills are a representation of abilities.

"So I can destroy clothing? Doesn't seem the most useful." I paused. "Wait a minute, Broke, you said I couldn't use magic."

Usage of that skill does not constitute magic.

"Semantics don't suit you. But I guess it's all you know."

Its silence was my only response.

"Okay, how about this. Broke, tell me which direction the next town is, and I'll consider some more requests for you along the way."

The next town was close but much smaller than Salinel. That made a good deal of sense as usually larger cities would have several satellites surrounding them. It consisted of a few dirt roads and fewer than a dozen small homes dotted between them.

Hearston is what the locals called it; I assumed it was because of the village's numerous graveyards. Not that anyone who lived there seemed to let that affect them. Children ran across a dirt road, laughing and throwing stones at one another. At one of the town's three intersections, a rather gaunt man stood ringing a bell while the occasional passerby would toss a coin in the pan by his feet. I assumed they were religious donations.

Unlike the more prominent city it was adjacent to, Hearston was mainly made of wooden buildings instead of stone. Its streets are unpaved and unkempt. But even still, the people living there looked happy and well fed. Enough to have frolicking children and enough money to donate at least.

I also made a few discoveries and quality of life changes for Broke.

First, I made it so I wouldn't have to ask a question, only sound confused to get a response. That part was a little tricky as I've never had to explain things like raising pitch or sarcasm to an... AI? Magical voice? I hadn't thought of who or what Broke was until this point, and unfortunately, they weren't much help either.

Then, I had Broke explain the skill systems to me. Essentially the more you did something and didn't mess up, the higher that skill would grow. That made it easier to do more complex things. The concept sounded a little basic to me, but it began to make more sense when I thought about how easily that guard tossed me around and my ability to break down clothing instantly.

Finally, I determined what I could do. My Exotic Skill: Material Reclamation came with a couple of interesting caveats. Different materials had different complexities. The more I trained that skill, the easier breaking down complex items would become. A concept I would test soon as long as it didn't result in me being kicked out of whatever town I was visiting.

In desperate need of something to eat, I headed to what appeared to be the only market in Hearston. Unfortunately, I had no money, but I could probably barter whatever materials I stole, I mean, reclaimed, from the guard and merchant in Salinel. Hopefully, it would be enough for a meal. Then, I would need to focus on a place to stay.

Carts filled with apples and cucumbers, some fresher than others, stood lining the front of a cobbled shack. A dilapidated sign hung above an opened doorway with lettering that read The General Muir.