Thank Freya, Chester groaned when, overcome by exhaustion, the young girl finally started snoring softly in her arms.
She can't be older than Kira when she died, Chester noted as a vivid memory of Kira sleeping in the bed across from hers flashed before her mind's eye.
She gave the girl a gentle squeeze then breathed out a ragged sigh and looked around.
You would've loved the magic here, Kira, she thought looking at the majestic trees above. I froze again. I hope you can forgive my weakness sis. I... I'll do better next time.
Chester eased the girl into a hammock that she had grown beside her and stood, rubbing her tender throat to prevent a cough that threatened to escape.
She’d spent the past few hours soothing the girl and her bruised chest throbbed and ached from the awkward position.
After she finished adjusting the girl, Chester stretched and shook out her tingling legs while taking a good look around the small clearing the bandits had used as a camp.
She'd grown a thick barrier at the extent of her ability while she soothed the catgirl. So, she wasn't worried about unannounced visitors. Not humanoid ones at least.
The bodies were too new and bloodless to stink much beyond the involuntary bowel movements that sometimes came with death.
She took a moment to study her handy work and shuddered. They died so easily... Chester hugged herself as the vivid images of what she'd done flashed through her mind.
No, I should have acted sooner... she snarled internally.
At least I could do something for her. She looked back at the girl for a moment before turning back to the dead men and frowning.
I feel more regret for killing the last moose I hunted, than these rapist bastards. The anger made it so easy, so clear. Magic made it almost trivial. I hope that doesn't mean I’m a monster. She fretted about it for a long spell while staring off into space.
She ran the encounter through her head a couple of times before shaking it. No, they had it coming. I shouldn't feel bad... They all took turns... she felt her gorge rising and swallowed hard against the images of the previous night as a cold sweat hit her, pebbling her entire body with goosebumps.
They weren't men, they were monsters, she decided.
She turned abruptly from the form of the slumbering child and rubbed at her arms to remove the sudden chill.
There are things you need to do Chester, she told herself, turning her thoughts to the immediate.
Looking at the nearest bodies with heavy eyes she contemplated what to do with them. Should I bury the bodies, or burn them? Are undead a thing here? Or is that fanciful thinking? she wondered.
"Undead," she said aloud in the local language. Well, they have a word for it, so...
Shrugging with a yawn, she approached the nearest body, studying the mess of vines she had used to strangle him.
It’s crazy that fascinate lasts for a while after I stop actively using it. Bastards didn’t start to struggle until they were almost dead. She tried to start singing to make the vines let go but her voice croaked and her throat tightened up in pain. Well shit, that might take days to get better. I’ll need to be careful with it in the future.
Instead, she summoned her guitar and played the vines lose before swinging it onto her back.
Crouching down she grabbed one of the feet with both of her hands, to drag the body.
As soon as she touched him, a small window popped into the corner of her vision. Dropping the foot, she went to pull the window up but it disappeared. Huh, loot window of some sort, maybe? Grabbing the foot again she was able to bring the window up.
Harvest?
Name
Quantity
Rarity
Rank.
House Cleaning Pyth
6/10
Common
1
Binding Pyth
9/10
Uncommon
1
Curved shot Pyth
7/10
Uncommon
1
“Sure?” she said. As soon as the words left her mouth another window popped up in the corner.
Please provide a container.
What the hell? Wait. Those small bags. Where did I put them? Shit, in the ruck. She got up and played her way through the bramble. A short walk later she’d retrieved her new pack and returned, digging through it to find the bags. She set the pack down and, holding three of the bags in her hand, kicked the man’s foot. The window appeared and she willed the powder to go to the bags. It worked on the first try, as the bags swelled with contents.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
She looked into one to confirm.
Name: Pyth Powder 9/10
Type: Binding
Rank: 1
Rarity: Uncommon
Properties: 4/10ths of a full measure of Binding Powder.
Curious she touched the other men one at a time. The next two didn’t result in a window but the fourth provided more than the first had.
Harvest?
Name
Quantity
Rarity
Rank.
Logistics Pyth
8/10
Rare
1
Shield Bash Pyth
8/10
Uncommon
1
Power Strike Pyth
3/10
Uncommon
1
Inventory Pyth
3/10
Uncommon
1
Harvest Pyth
3/10
Uncommon
1
She grabbed more bags and acknowledged the prompt filling them.
It was then followed by another window.
Would you like to access Target Inventory?
“Yes.” At her prompt, a vault much like hers opened, and a window with a timer started counting down from 30 seconds.
The timer made her heartbeat race and with a momentary rush of panic, she reached in and grabbed the first thing she touched, a small blade.
To her surprise, the vault didn’t close and she looked back in for a few blank seconds. Move idiot!
Dropping the blade, she hurried to pull everything out, dumping it on the ground in a disorderly pile.
Chester finished with only seconds to spare and with a pop of displaced air the space winked out once the timer hit zero.
She touched the body to see if it would give access again but nothing happened. I wonder if I could reopen it if I had left something in there or if it would be gone forever. Not sure I want to risk that. Note to self: don’t loot someone's space, unless I'm safe and ready.
So much stuff, she sighed. I’ll have to go over everything and put anything special in my inventory. At least all the powders.
She studied the items on the ground and raised an eyebrow. Most of them were neat square boxes that looked like they stacked. I guess that makes sense if it's not too rare for people to have an Inventory Pyth.
She picked one up and opened it, finding a few of the powder bags along with a pile of empties. Unfortunately, they were all ones she had already, so she added the powders to her bags and put them back in the box.
Another box revealed documents. I'll have a look at those later. Five of the boxes were empty, confirming her thought that they were likely made for people with the vault ability.
The blade turned out to be ornately carved but otherwise unremarkable. The final box revealed more of the coins she couldn’t study in the current light.
Finished with the pile, she opened her own inventory and spent some time combining powders and purses.
Then with some trepidation, Chester started searching the bodies. The coins, rings, and other valuables she found were quickly added to her new boxes. Which, were then stacked one at a time into her vault.
She left the little girl’s parents' bodies alone until she could ask what sort of etiquette was involved.
The bandits had dumped them in the back of the wagon and driven it here. The ox that had been pulling it still grazed nearby, tied to one of the large trees.
With her looting distraction finally complete, she contemplated what to do with the bodies. I’ll move them out of the bramble and ask the girl what she thinks when she wakes.
Looking down on the sleeping girl, she slapped her forehead, then grabbed one of the sleeping rolls and lay it over her before tucking her in tight. Chester, you thoughtless fool, she chided herself, watching the child shift with her dreams. At least it doesn't appear to be nightmares, yet.
Chester made sure to take anything that might be useful from the bodies, leaving them clothed but taking their boots, belts, and weapons.
It was with an almost manic smile that she pulled on a pair of boots that were close to her size with a relieved breath. She walked about, getting a feel for them, stopping to find a couple more pairs of socks in the packs before she felt satisfied with the fit. I’ll have to find some that fit properly soon. This is going to cause all sorts of problems long term otherwise.
With her night done, she grew herself a hammock near the girl and climbed in with a huge yawn then grew a bigger shelter around them both, playing the guitar quietly so as to not wake the girl.
I hope my voice is better in the morning, she thought before sleep claimed her.
----------------------------------------
Chester woke to the feeling of eyes watching her.
A window blinked in the corner of her vision but she ignored it, to address the first feeling.
Turning her head to where the girl’s hammock was, she confirmed her suspicions. The girl was watching her with steady unblinking eyes. They were copper and gold feline eyes. Makes sense with the tail and ears, I guess.
“Hey,” Chester said hesitantly, in the language the men used the night before.
The girl continued to stare at her, unblinking, clearly as unsure of the situation as Chester was.
Mentally shrugging, Chester rolled out of her hammock and stood, stretching her arms over her head with a big yawn.
“Are you hungry?” she asked in a raspy voice.
Still no response. So, she sang a couple of lines, her voice still raw, to open the shelter and let the morning sun stream in.
Rummaging through one of the packs she pulled out some cheese and meat before returning to her hammock.
She sat and started chewing on a chunk of jerky, watching the girl. Casually, she held out a piece of the meat, offering it to the girl with a tiny go-on shake.
The girl took it hesitantly then studied Chester in return, matching her steady chewing. Chester kept eating and offering the girl bits of dried meat and cheese until it was all gone.
Unperturbed, Chester gave her a small rueful smile and said, “I’m going to summon my guitar,” in warning before matching actions to words and going through the now-familiar spell with ease.
Guitar in hand, she sat back into the higher part of her hammock and started playing. Trying to give the impression she had nowhere to be or anything pressing to do.
What do I even do? How do I handle this? I hated it when people I didn’t know, offered me condolences when my mother passed. Like they knew her. She, sure as shit, doesn’t need my pity. Kids are tougher than people believe, and I'm pretty sure death is more prevalent here in a world like this, than back in Canada. Which makes it more true.
She kept playing, switching between upbeat and somber songs, simply enjoying the relaxation that came with the task while waiting for the girl to make a move.
Pausing for a moment between songs, Chester brushed her hair behind her ear to get it out of the way.
“You’re an Elf!” The girl blurted awkwardly with a tint of awe in her voice.
“So, you can speak. But you're only half right, I’m afraid. I’m a half-elf,” Chester stated, giving her a small smile.
“I’m sorry, milady!” the girl apologized, trying to give Chester what she thought was a sitting curtsy.
What the hell? “Wait, no need for that milady stuff, I’m Ches...” Chester trailed off mid-word. What am I going to call myself? Chester is an obviously male name.
“I’m Ashley, Ashley Pemburtton. Lady Chess,” Ashley volunteered, ignoring Chester’s request.
Name change confirmed.
Chess Stewart
So much for that, meh might be easier this way. It will be easy to adjust to it at least.
“I’m serious though. Please, just call me Chess,” Chess insisted firmly.
“Sorry, lad... I mean Chess,” Ashley tried, correcting herself.
“Better, and don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong,” Chess said.
In fact, I should be the one apologizing. If only I had been faster, and not hesitated, your mother might have lived. Kira might have lived. She acknowledged her self-loathing, nodding to the conjured image of a pink-haired girl with a mischievous smile.
With an effort of will, she shrugged it off, focusing back on the girl in front of her.