Pierre left the room like a scalded cat the moment I mentioned Emily.
That left me with time, which I was more than thankful for. With all that happened, it was an pause-point to reflect on my new life, to consider the drastic changes that I was experience. Okay, I did none of that. Introspection is pointless without comparable memories.
But speaking of reflection, a thought occurred to me, and I turned to the small dresser with a tiny mirror. I’d never seen myself. I’d caught a few reflections here and there in a shiny object, but these were distorted by curving or dulled by the aged metal surface. Now, I took my time to look into the little mirror and marvel at what I saw.
My face was not like the others in town. They were right – it missed the ‘edge’ I guess you would call it. My skin was pale and supple, whereas many townsfolk were weathered and tanned. Fewer wrinkles worked their paths away from my eyes, and I didn’t have the cuts and scars townsfolk often bore. Their life suggested difficulty, while mine screamed the opposite.
Whatever heritage flowed within my blood was lost on me. Fair hair was cropped close to my scalp, and my cheeks bore a smattering of freckles. Light reddish stubble framed a strong jawline, even if I did say so myself. What surprised me most were my blue eyes. They weren’t eyes I recognised. In fact, the face wasn’t anything I recognised. I looked upon a stranger.
Yet, I didn’t know anything else, so why would my face be familiar? A part of me hoped that viewing my face would bring an epiphany. Instead, it brought the echoing sensation of loss constantly bouncing around in the far recesses of my mind, painfully to the fore.
Sighing, I rolled my shoulders and tried to release the tension. It wasn’t going to help. Not now. Not ever. Whatever I’d become, I was a man without memories. Yes, that left me with some complex, and no doubt completely screwed up mental and emotional problems, but it also gave me a chance to just move onwards. Keep going forward. Don’t fixate on the past. Shelve all my baggage.
CHARACTER INFORMATION: JACOB BOSMA
Class: Unknown
Level: 1
Experience: 64/100
Health: 10/10
Essence: Unknown
Statistics:
· Strength – 1
· Dexterity – 1
· Constitution – 1 (+1)
o +1 disabled
· Wisdom – 2
· Charisma – 0
Titles:
Traits:
· Outcast (-1 to charisma while trait is active)
Skills:
Bonuses:
· Sunbather – You have ritualistically tanned your skin in the midday sun. +1 to constitution when fighting in direct sunlight.
The figure of 36 experience required to level beckoned me. Answers could lie beyond that if I could just unlock it. At the rough standard of 3 to 5 experience per quest, that’d take maybe ten of the simple quests I’d finished so far. I wanted to train, really, to go out and hunt things for experience.
When Pierre’s back though… I didn’t need to be completely reckless.
That left me with another interesting option; go and talk to Mary. It was an opportunity to do some good for the right reasons. With all this talk of violence and underlying threats in the town, I needed that. It was also Mary’s money that I held, so she needed that too. Resolving that quest might get me some more experience, and I might be able to advance the quest of why her father was in a canyon.
Mind made up, I returned to the ‘streets’.
As the sun hung low in the afternoon sky, Oro City came alive with a fascinating array of activities. The town itself became a bustling beehive, and just like bees, a common purpose underpinned the actions of the townsfolk. Men and women worked around the homesteads and businesses, tending to their lanterns with meticulous care. They checked oil levels, ensuring they’d last the night. Firewood, carted from the nearby mills or straight from the forest if dead enough, was dragged to fire pits, ready to be set alight. Some particularly eager individuals had already ignited roaring fires, and the mouthwatering aroma of cooking meat wafted towards me. Cruel. Nothing stirred a man to drool like roasting meat. I really needed to eat more.
Along the edge of town, large carts rumbled forward, transporting heavy loads of lumber in a constant influx of wood to fuel the fires. How Oro City had never burnt down escaped me. The potent combination of stacked firewood and blazing fires – a few sparks would set Oro into a bonfire.
Amidst this flurry of activity, two old-timers hashed out an argument moments from turning to physical violence. Something about badgers? Huh, weird. But I shifted past that quickly enough, not wanting to be caught up in anyone's brawl. Death had this town pinned down, like a guillotine waiting to drop, but people still had the time and energy to fight each other.
As I strolled along, a group of rowdy millers, by their appearance, gave me looks and poked each other as they no doubt made me the butt of some joke. Even with no memories and all, I could see what was coming a mile away. It’s not like subtlety was their strong point.
A burly man with a scruffy brown beard, repeatedly elbowed his companions and made an exaggerated point in my direction. ‘Hey now, fellas. Look what we have here.’ I’d describe his voice as sneering, but that would do him an injustice.
As his group of friends laughed, he continued: ‘What’s your name then, boy? What do they call an outcast, huh? What name did your mother give you before she tried to feed you to the wolves?’
‘Lot of questions there. What’s it to you?’ Honestly, why would some fool intent on bullying me think I was going to give him my name?
The bearded one stood, and I paused to take in the fact he had no name or class – higher level than me. ‘Well, well, well. Didn’t think you’d have the guts to be talking like that? You look like the sort of person who’d cut his foot off with a sword.’
I sighed. ‘Got nothing better to do?’
‘Matter o’fact. I don’t.’ He stepped right into my space.
Another spoke behind him. ‘C’mon Marty, nothing here is worth it. This guy looks like the type that’d impress a woman with his collection of pocket watches. Ya know, show her the small hand n’ all.’
More laughter greeted his heckling, but Beardy, or Marty as he was apparently known, didn’t take a step back.
Something inside me was angry, but I smashed it down quickly to continue walking. Now was not the time for brawling, well, correction. Now was not the level. A few more points in strength and I’d be throwing punches till my heart was content.
A couple more remarks thrown my way, mostly around my inability with the ladies. I quickened my pace, trying to ignore their taunts, but their jeers followed me like a shadow.
Finally, I reached Mary's door, relieved to escape, or perhaps relieved that the incident had not escalated. My rapping knuckles drew Mary to the door, which cracked open slightly as she peeked through.
‘Jacob,’ she said, pushing the door open with a welcoming smile. But the tone was slightly off, and I could have sworn I saw a hint of frustration flash across her features before she schooled them. ‘You should have told me you were coming so I could have made us some food. Give me a moment, won’t you?’
I nodded and stood awkwardly on the porch. Some rustling and tidying occurred, before Mary was back in the doorway inviting me inside. Wait… uh… Was it my imagination, or were there a few more laces of her bodice undone? No – just my perverted imagination. It’d been a while, you know, so long that I couldn’t remember…
‘Would you like a drink?’ she asked hospitably.
Considering for a moment, I replied: ‘Just water if you have it, please.’
Mary hesitated momentarily before she suggested: ‘I have some of Papa's brandy, if you'd like. He swore by it.’
‘No, no, water is fine.’ It was a sombre start, to bring up her father again. A gentle reminder that I was standing in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, talking to his daughter. Drinking his brandy seemed one step too far. That and I’d pushed him into a canyon. Raising a toast with his daughter – well, again, that made me feel a mite conflicted.
‘I thought we needed to talk, Mary. And I’d rather keep a clear head while we do that.’
‘Okay, but let’s at least sit down?’
Agreeing, I took a seat at the table. ‘I take it that you would still like me to claim you?’
‘Yes.’ She wasn’t backwards about saying what she wanted.
‘But I don’t really know enough about what that means.’
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
‘It’s a contract,’ Mary explained. ‘But one that is done through the system and through the church. It’s a thing you can do for women and… some other races.’
Other races? What the… No – stay on track. ‘I’ll need a little more than that.’
CHARACTER INFORMATION: MARY PERCIVAL
Class: Unknown
Level: 1
Experience: 89/100
Health: 8/8
Essence: 30/30
Statistics:
· Strength – 1
· Dexterity – 1
· Constitution – 1
· Wisdom – 2
· Charisma – 1
Titles:
Traits:
Skills:
Bonuses:
· Read: can read 50% faster.
Value: (Optional)
· 5 silvers
‘Why are you still Level 1?’
Mary blushed a little. ‘I’ve never really been out. Papa told me it ‘wasn’t what he wanted for me.’’ She frowned. ‘He had his plans, but now I’ll never know.’
‘I’m sorry, Mary. This is likely more painful than I can understand.’
The mask came back. ‘That’s okay. The important part you can see is my value which I can opt to share. Under certain circumstances, you can purchase someone. In this case, if you give me five silver, I will consent to your claim.’
‘And you become one of my possessions?’
Mary nodded.
‘I don’t like that. No. I hate that idea.’
By the look on her face, Mary was trying to piece together the best way to respond to my words. ‘It’s… the world we live in. For a woman, life is hard, and comes with risks. I do not believe that you are so much of a risk, despite our unusual meeting.’
‘I’m not a threat to you.’
‘Exactly, and that is why I want this. You must understand that this is how my father set it up – these were, or are, his choices I live with. This is the best I can do with that choice. I don’t think you understand how bad it could be…’
I stared into her eyes – only her eyes. I admit with the way that she’d leant forward to deliver he words, keeping my gaze firmly fixed on her face was challenging. Very challenging. Come on, though. I’ll mention it again – it’s been a while…
‘Fine, Mary, but if you want to do this, we need some terms?’
A smile crept across her features. ‘What terms?’
‘Rules, conditions, I don’t know. The rights and wrongs.’ I wasn’t expressing myself clearly, but there were some ideas that I needed to convey.
‘Such as?’
‘Your life is your own. You choose what you want to do – I don’t tell you. You tell me what you want to do, if you feel like it, but that’s your choice entirely. No orders. No commands. Nothing like that.’
Mary’s expression looked a bit baffled at my insistence. ‘Of course I can accept that.’
‘Oh, that’s not all. I’ll help you out where I can, but I am not your keeper. You can work out what you want to do with your life, then do that. As I said, I’ll not abandon you, and help where I can – but you can take charge.’
‘Agreed,’ she nodded.
A blush flamed across my cheeks as I came to the toughest one. ‘And we are not having a relationship while I ‘own’ you. It’s not happening.’ You’ll note I carefully kept the door open on this one.
I don’t know how I expected Mary to respond. In fact, most of the time, Mary didn’t respond close to how I expected. Here though, she paused for a moment, tapping her finger against her chin before she said softly that the idea was ‘acceptable.’ Now I’m not sure why a woman, who was told that the man who owned her, was not going to force a relationship on her – and everybody under the sun knows I mean sex… We weren’t having sex. Period. End of story. Not while I was some sort of slave-owner-saviour. I’m wandering because I’m confused. I told Mary, and she tapped her chin considering… Huh?
‘Well then, how do we do this?’
You may claim Mary Percival for 5 silver. Do you consent?
I mentally selected yes and passed Mary 5 silver from my pocket. Mary took the money without comment, focused on her own system notifications.
Congratulations, you have issued a claim for the purchase of Mary Percival.
Now, there was that p-word again!
‘Thank you, Master.’
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ I stood up as the chair slammed to the ground.
Mary nearly fell off her chair laughing. ‘You should see your face.’
It always came back to my face. I must have the world’s stupidest expression for someone who had just been ridiculed. It was justified, probably… I did seem to be something of a gullible fool. But shame on them for picking on a one-day-old.
On reflection, it was likely a good thing that Mary was willing to mock me so easily. If she was mocking me, she definitely wasn’t subservient to me, which was a great start. I picked up the chair, and we entered into some relaxed conversation, mostly me asking innocuous questions, and Mary trying to pretend like it wasn’t unusual I didn’t already know the answers to those questions.
After a time, she turned the conversation to her father – which I wasn’t averse to, considering I still had a standing quest of discovering why his body was at the canyon.
‘Jacob, you never told me how he died.’
‘It’s not something you just drop into a conversation. Do you really want to know the details?’
Mary’s eyes locked to mine as she considered. ‘At first, I wasn’t, but I think the questions will haunt me if I do not have the answers.’
That made sense. I could safely say that having unanswered questions on pivotal issues left you feeling as if you were a few pieces short of solving a jigsaw puzzle – and those pieces were lost. ‘Can you take me through his disappearance, as it might help provide me with some context on what I saw.’
‘There is not much to tell. Papa did not come home one three nights ago. In Oro City, if someone does not return… well, you know exactly what that means.’
‘They’re dead.’
Mary nodded despite my bluntness.
‘And was there anything in the days before, in the lead-up? Anything out of the ordinary.’
‘You ask questions like this is a crime story from the newspapers,’ she laughed.
‘Wait, you can read?’ Why that was surprising, I wasn’t sure.
‘Of course. Papa would have it no other way. We would sit by the fire and he would read stories to me until I could read them to myself.’ The mask slipped again, momentarily. ‘To your question, I am not sure what to say. Papa had business dealings I know little of. I always assumed they were dangerous, and while there had been challenges before, they had never turned to violence. He worked for the newspaper during the day, and occasionally rotated onto one of the squads managing the fires at night. On Sunday we went to Church together… but beyond that, there is not much more to say.’
‘Was there a woman? I mean, I’m assuming your mother…’ Yeah, handled that with all the delicacy of a top-notch detective.
Her large eyes widened slightly. ‘Papa’s lovers interest you?’
‘I… well…’
Mary laughed musically, reaching out to pat my hand. ‘Your innocence is quite amusing, Jacob. No, there were women from time to time, but none recently. I might not know of them, you understand. There were some nights Papa did not spend here, so I assumed...’ She shrugged, clearly not fazed by the thought of her father being with a woman.
‘As far as you know then, he just didn’t come home.’
‘Exactly. Will you tell me now, please? Mary's eyes bore into mine with a sudden intensity.
‘To be honest, I cannot add too much more to what I told you the other day. I was walking along the edge of the canyon, getting savagely burnt –’
‘As you were naked?’
‘Yes, as you know, I was naked. And no, let’s not talk about how I ended up in that state.’ Deflect and move on!
‘The path to the town took me along the edge of the canyon for some time. The sun was bright, it was safe enough.’ Only because I didn’t know any differently. ‘As I walked along the edge, I happened to see a body, lying on a ledge less than a dozen feet below the lip of the canyon.’
‘The canyon,’ Mary breathed out heavily. ‘You speak of it as if it fills you with no fear.’
I shrugged. Well, it didn’t, really. Not understanding about the canyon, or the ‘evil’ inside it, made that a fair bit easier. It’s hard to understand something you cannot conceptualise.
‘Your father lay on this ledge, above the gloom below. He looked kinda peaceful.’ I held back the part where his arms were twisted badly and probably broken. Besides, that looked like it was a result of the fall, not the dying itself.
‘How did he die?’
‘Strangled, I think. His neck was badly bruised like something had wrapped around it.’
Mary nodded, a solitary tear running down her cheek. ‘It doesn’t make a lot of sense. Why there?’
‘I’m afraid that’s something I can’t give you the answer to.’
‘I believe you.’ She took a moment to compose herself, pulling out an embroidered handkerchief to dab at her eyes. ‘I’d like to visit him. Will you show me where you buried him?’
From all my experiences – admittedly a painfully short amount – I’d nearly mastered the awkward cough. ‘Well, I… uh… I didn’t.’ Her eyes sharpened on me instantaneously. ‘You see, I was worried someone would find a naked dead man, and wonder why another person was wearing his clothes…’
The temperature in the room drooped, as did Mary’s voice. ‘What did you do?’
There was a trap here, and I wasn’t seeing it. ‘I rolled him into the canyon.’
‘You did WHAT?’ Mary screamed at me.
‘Off the ledge. I was super-gentle with him, and all respectful. Even said a few words in prayer.’ I thought, no, I hoped my words would placate her rapidly rising anger.
Mary pushed herself out of the chair and onto the table. Nope, we were going to rage. ‘You fucking condemned him!’
‘I…’
Mary's reaction was explosive. Her path across the table, led to her fury manifesting as a full-blown wind-up punch. My reflexes were no match for her sudden onslaught, and her fist connected with my eye socket to send a burst of stars dancing across my vision. I collapsed to the floor, the cold wooden boards catching me in their welcoming embrace as my head bounced.
You have taken 6 damage – 3x2 damage for a critical strike to a vulnerable area.
You are stunned for 1 minute.
· Wisdom decreased by 10 (set to zero).
· Dexterity decreased by 10 (set to zero).
The words could barely be read, as I lay stunned on the floor, my vision shifting from soft white to aggressive red, as constellations continued to whirl around my head. The disorientation was savage. Mary's barrage had left its mark on the state of my brain, but thankfully she hadn’t followed up after unmanning me. In fact, my lack of retaliation caused the yelling to trail off before I vaguely noticed Mary heading to the bedroom and slamming the door.
I kept the floor company for the full minute as my delirium sought to clear.
‘You deserve this,’ a voice told me in my memories. ‘You deserve this for what you did.’
‘Who are you?’ I moaned at the room.
You are no longer suffering the effects of stun.
I might not have been, but my brain was still a mess. Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself into a kneeling position as the floorboards creaked beneath me. The desire to vomit was overwhelming.
‘This is your fate,’ the memory told me.
The door reopened.
‘My fate…’ I told the floor.
‘No, Jacob, you don’t get to talk.’
‘I said a – ‘
‘No talking!’ The calm façade over her features disappeared to anger before it slammed back into place again.
‘It doesn't matter what you did or didn't do. If demons consume flesh – they consume the soul. There was the tiniest chance, some God-given gift in this horrible world, that he did not have his soul consumed. And you destroyed that. You could have buried him, shown the tiniest piece of decency to the man whose clothing you were stealing. But no, you had no humanity. The demons take no flesh committed to the earth, but they will take a body if it is left in the open. They will take it, and consume it, and bind that spirit to their hell. All that he needed was for you to have the most minuscule mote of a good person within, and my father would rest…’ The depth of her emotions finally overwhelmed her as she sobbed.
I remained bewildered, struggling to make sense of her words due to my confused brain. The timer on the stun might have ended, but not the effect felt by my face impacting a fist and my brain bouncing around and then colliding with the floor.
‘I’m sorry,’ I told her. What else could I do? The gravity of my mistake was obvious, and in the face of this violently passionate woman that had been made clear. I didn’t question her words – they had the ring of truth. And to her, it didn’t matter whether I had or had not known better. I’d thought I was doing the right thing; thought that I was giving him a sense of decency by letting him descend into the canyon and saying a few words over him. I’d thought wrong, but how could I have known that then?
‘You can't condemn my father to hell and be sorry. There are no words. None,’ Mary retorted sternly, mask back.
I stood up, taking her in while desperately trying to work through the repercussion. ‘I’ll find someone else to take your contract,’ I conceded.
Mary’s response was curt and final. ‘Yes. You will.’
Nodding, I collected my dignity and left her house. It was only outside that I gave a silent scream and ‘fuck you’ to the heavens above as I kicked the street in frustration. One of my first serious encounters, and business arrangements, with another person, had ended in disaster. Almost instantaneously! I couldn't help but feel the weight of my blunder. This wasn’t just a small fuck-up – I’d condemned a man to hell.
I was a murderer, just of a man’s soul. Somehow that felt worse.