Soul Fire Sale, chapter 7. (Patreon)

Here we are. As you might be able to guess, this is the chapter that went a little long and caused a bit of an issue. Please enjoy.

I woke to birdsong, and some form of light picking its way through the tree line. Of course, the only way I could tell is that it was slightly less gray in that direction; the cold had been no joke, so I'd wrapped myself in everything cloth I'd owned.

While staying as close to the fire as I dared; which is to say, another inch and I'd have likely spontaneously burst into flame. Or been doubling as firewood myself, one or the other.

As such, I had to find the edge of the blanket and unwrap myself.

Oliver snorted as I popped my head out into the very crisp and not at all warm air: "You look like a burrito."

That was rather surprising. "You know about burritos?"

Oliver was Japanese, wasn't he? He bore the look - but then again, so did I now, and Oliver wasn't a Japanese name.

"I've had them before. I'm a military brat."

Really? Learn something new every day. "Cool. Good to know."

The fire was up and kept, the sun was peeking at us more or less at my back, and the fire to my front was a bit low but still an enticing source of warmth. "Seems these clothes have limits."

"Yeah, mine too," my companion admitted with a shiver.

Loam was on the other side, on the spit of land leading to us, right where I'd left her. Looking out in the same direction - no, there she went, turning left.

After a few seconds, she turned and looked right.

Then she shifted again, her entire body this time, and looked in our direction. Then she went back to watching the entry to our camp again. Five seconds each time... a little slow to get a full picture if something were sneaking up on us, but I hadn't told the golem to do that at all. Was that normal for them when told to watch?

I didn't know, but it felt weird to me. Weirder than this entire situation I found myself in was.

Still, it was morning. Some water, some waking up, and I could take the time I wanted to take last night and inspect things... figure things out.

The river was icy, of course, which meant I almost froze my face off dunking it in the fast moving flow, but I managed to get a good drink, and the cold woke me up. "Anything come at us last night? I was out of it."

"I think a few things got close, but if so, the fire kept them back. You did sleep like the dead; I'm a little envious."

I gave my companion a shrug. "I hadn't slept well the few nights before. Something about assholes trying to enslave and use me or something."

It was hard to get a good restful sleep when you thought someone might try to murder you in it. Or worse. The would-be slaver king wasn't the only one who'd been giving me the creepy eyes since I showed up.

"Well, hopefully you won't need to sleep that deep again. I really don't like the idea of yelling for help and you just rolling over with a mumble."

I wasn't that bad! "I'm pretty sure you didn't say much last night, and if you had, I'd have woken up."

It was also hard to sleep when you were cold enough, after all.

I grabbed some jerky from my pack, re-wrapped myself in my cloak, and moved over to Loam, still in the middle of her movements.

She looked... amazingly detailed in this light. I could see the traceries of veins where there should be veins, details of knuckles on her fingers... and she even had eyebrows. A bit more bushy than normal, maybe, but eyebrows nonetheless.

All made of clay, of course, but it didn't look like it.

The only thing I could really point to was that she was a bit more moist than a human was; her body had just the faintest slick of what could only be water, and gave just a little to pressure.

Hm. Wait, these details. This human appearance.

I was right; she had fingerprints. Fingerprints that looked suspiciously like those on my own fingers. Loam was not a match for me, not even a close resemblance, but it seems using my own blood for the spell was not the win I thought it was. did I use too much? I was only supposed to use enough blood to make the ink, and in the dark, I could have bled a little too much.

My finger was fine this morning, though; not even a scar. So there was no evidence for that theory. Something to take note of for when I made something a little more permanent.

Loam had kept up her vigil, even as I poked and prodded her, without any complaint at all. I topped her off, since making sure she had enough mana in the morning only made sense and was a good habit to get into. The array lit up; I could just see the glow of it on her stomach through her clothes. I moved on to packing up as the glow faded.

"Well?"

"Nothing wrong with her. It. Hell with it. She should work just fine; I don't see any problems at all."

She'd taken my mana just fine. A good ten percent of it. That meant fewer options until I recovered; but that was fine.

"Next time, you can use my blood, if you'd like."

I wouldn't be doing that. If I used Oliver's blood as the ink catalyst, he'd be able to power and command the golem as well. If I did that, he could command the golem to attack me - and he was being controlled in turn by assholes who might want it to happen.

"I'd have to free you first."

I was here, the light was bright enough, and we were far enough away from the people who might care, so now was as good a time to start that as any. When I grabbed Oliver's hand, he let me keep it.

It really was the geas spell; the improved version, which could kill the person it was placed on. It was a variant, though, which was even worse; the original version allowed for a two-way contract between two parties, and this one? You did as you were commanded, or you died.

A true curse. So I hit it with my best curse removal spell.

"Gesundheit," Oliver joked.

Last time I'd say a spell out loud in front of him, no matter how well it worked. Which in this instance meant it didn't at all. I'd felt the spell grab a hold of something for a moment, and then slide right off.

Right, this wasn't the end, just the beginning of the process. I could and would break down the entire thing and find out why it could resist me.

Oliver looked down. "We've not yet begun to lose," I told him.

It worked. "Right," he agreed, and picked his face up off the ground. "We should go find that village. See if it needs help. Just in case there are watchers there."

Right, if we were getting spied on, that changed everything. People would already be wondering where we were, and if we were dead. The golem would be an explainable surprise, but to have her revealed so early would be a blow.

Even so, my paranoia was clearly not ratcheted up high enough; of course these guys would have some people watching us, at least where they could. Just in case.

"Right, we should go then."

"Already packed," Oliver said, grabbing his bag with a smile. It was a little disgusting, being able to whiplash from soul crushing disappointment to cheerful like that.

I nibbled on some bread and stuffed everything cloth back into my bag. Guess I was ready too.

The fire could be left here now without becoming an issue. I doused it with a quick spell anyway. "Right, let's go find some warmth."

"I'd settle for something warm to drink," Oliver said.

Warm to drink would be good. I had a small bit of tea on hand, but it was best to save it. We needed to get going anyway.

Ah, one other thing. Should I just have my new golem do it? No, I felt bad about just uprooting and killing a tree. Besides, I needed to know how much mana this cost.

A few whispered words, and the thing I wanted took shape in my hand, ghostly, ephemeral. Oliver all but shoved his face into it, despite the edge that was developing.

A hand and a half, or a bastard sword. Something with reach that took strength but hopefully not a lot of skill to swing around. A force multiplier for our fighter. A few more words to make the newly minted sword last longer, and it was complete.

About another fifteen percent of my mana for the day gone. I wasn't sure just how bad that was yet, but now was the time to find out. Would I recover it all by night? Would I do alright without the power to cast my strongest spells, or cast them less often?

Our lives depended on these questions, if not now then later.

I carefully handed the sword over to Loam. There was no point in a sheath just yet; somehow, I just knew if I handed the thing over with the sheath on, the golem would just use the sword like a club, negating some of the advantage for the construct having the construct in the first place. Heh.

The golem took the blade, then dropped her arm to her side again.

I knew it was listening. "That is your weapon. Do not touch another person with it unless I command you to." hopefully that order would prevent accidents; I could easily see my creation just walking around, swinging that razor edge with abandon in any village we went to without it, beheading curious kids with total abandon.

"Nod if you understand my last order."

The golem - Loam - nodded. Then it heaved the blade up, and settled the thing broad side along its shoulder. All was well then.

"Follow me, and be prepared to protect either of us should we get attacked. I am your priority. Nod if you understand this order."

Loam nodded again.

I'd rather have the golem lead, but that was impossible since she didn't know where we were going. I mean, I didn't either, but I could read a map and find the road, and that was better than she could manage.

Maybe if I ordered her to go in a specific direction? Could she discern directions?

No, we'd do it my way. "Let's go."

Oliver nodded, a short bob of the head, exactly like Loam had. What a joker.

I led the way back up the river side and back toward the road; it was easy enough since I had our footprints from last night to go by, at least for a bit.

Away from the water and moving, warming up was a thing.

"I hope getting back to the road doesn't take all day."

What did he mean? "It doesn't have to. We know the way to go."

Oliver looked at the Golem. "She can't fly."

That was true enough; did he not know? He must not know. "That isn't a human being. I've already given the order for her to follow me, and she will do so. I might be able to lose her if I go above the tree line and cut loose, but as long as we stay down here? Loam will easily be able to keep up."

I didn't know how fast the broom went, after all, but I did know how good my golem was supposed to be if it had to be.

"Good, let's try that. I want a bed tonight; it's too damn cold to be sleeping on the ground. At least, like we did last night."

I agreed with him, but at the same time... "Wimp. We will do what we have to do since we don't have any money."

I didn't expect any villager to put us up for free; any further sleeping arrangements from here on would be tied to our ability to deliver safety or money.

"A fair point," Oliver admitted. "The perks of coming from a broke kingdom, I guess."

"Yeah. Whatever, let's test things while we can test things." I pulled the broom out.

Oliver was already in the air by the time I sat down; we shot off at the same time, with the same pace as yesterday.

Loam could keep up, as expected. I could just see her out of the corner of my eye, running along with her sword still balanced on her shoulder. Dodging trees like a champ without any visible strain.

I really wanted to test my creation's speed now, but the same rule applied as yesterday; I didn't want the castle to know we'd taken a detour just yet. We needed a few days before that information made it back to our supposed handlers.

They knew about the broom, of course, but they wouldn't be expecting Oliver to be able to keep up with it, and the more time we had before they figured out just how strong we were, the better. I didn't want to deal with armed men trying to come take me back to that fortress for some hard questions that I wouldn't enjoy.

Sure, we could simply... not, but then deaths would be involved, and even if they were the powers that be in a sick and twisted world, they didn't deserve that. Probably. Possibly.

There would be blood either way, no matter what we did here. I was not looking forward to it. Maybe if we put it off long enough, we would avoid some of the early conflicts I saw coming.

That was the dream, anyway.

I had to focus; weaving through the trees actually took some attention.

"You going to be able to do this again?" I asked Oliver.

"What?" was the response - a totally normal and respectable response.

Right, how to do this... I wiggled my broom in front of him and held up two fingers because slowing down so he could hear me was just silly.

He got the point and nodded, then gave me a thumbs up for good measure.

I turned away before rolling my eyes, lest he go ahead and hit me with more cringe. I thought kids today were supposed to be hip and with it, or something.

The broom was warm in my hands. It was clearly telling me something.

Something that knew what I was thinking had to be a high-class, powerful item. Even if it was just for flying.

A pulse of heat; the broom was denying the thought. So there was more?

No, it wasn't the time to ask now. I'd put the thing through its paces later, when there wasn't a chance I could fall to my death. Another hour flying should see us that much closer to the road; we could even reach it by lunch.

I'd have to sit Oliver down and compare notes. He was probably watching it, but I'd like to know how much mana he had compared to me; it'd give me an idea just how far we could push things. One flight spell wouldn't do much, clearly, but what if we needed to escape something later?

I needed to make a potion or something. I was finding it hard to relax, and these intrusive thoughts were not helping.

Huh - I could actually do that, with a few extras... maybe a laboratory of sorts. What did alchemists call their labs? No, later.

I focused on the trees.

Soon enough, after an endless blur of the forest around us that could have been five minutes or five hours, we were out, the road once again leading away to our left and right. I turned left, the correct way, and jumped off my ride.

Oliver drew up just after Loam, who took an extra step to stay just behind me on my right. My off hand... had I told her to do that? I was sure I hadn't.

The road was empty, of course. I don't know why I was expecting any different. The normal folk of the realm probably just didn't want even to go near the fort unless they absolutely had to.

"Now we walk?"

"Yeah."

"Works for me. My spell was about to run out again anyway."

"Good enough. How's your mana?"

My companion answered immediately: "Better than yours. I'm down maybe ten percent, tops."

Oliver was underestimating me, but that was fine. I couldn't actually throw the spell he was yet, but I had an idea how much it cost based on how strong it was, or how strongly the system we were using valued it. Knowing that he could throw a spell of that strength another ten to twenty times gave me a good baseline for what he could do.

The difference was a bit staggering. There was no doubt now; I could overwhelm Oliver and kill him if I had to.

Of course, he had to know that, even if Loam hadn't clued him in before. It was good that we trusted each other.

Then again, working the numbers up again, he thought that his ninety percent might be better than my current mana, which still hadn't recovered from filling Loam up and last night. He had no idea.

If he hadn't lied to me, I was at about triple the mana he has now. It wasn't even close.

Of course, he had more direct attack spells than I did, but at some point, quality told over quantity. Was I there yet? We'd have to fight for me to see. I was in no hurry.

"So, lunch?"

"Let's eat on the way."

Oliver frowned, but nodded. He wanted a bed as much as I did, I'd bet.

The road stayed empty, right until we rounded a slight corner winding along the mountain and found our target village, nestled right up against the mountain as if carved out of it.

There was a wall, and some people acting as guards, but the wall was only about eight feet high, and the guards were guys dressed in rough clothes with rather roughly made spears in hand and no armor.

You knew it was bad when you only had a few peasants watching your gates to potentially go against demons.

They noticed us casually walking in, and straightened up. Tried to look professional, and not at all bored - which was rather adorable.

Both were young, not particularly good looking, almost seeming to be cut from the same rough stone in a way, with blonde hair, brown eyes, and large noses. Were they brothers? No, it was something else, their features otherwise were too different. It might just be the homespun clothes, which looked the exact same between them.

It didn't matter; focus, me. "Hello sir. I am Isolde, this is Oliver, and this is Loam. We would like to enter your village."

"Are you.. adventurers?" The man I took to be the older of the two asked. He asked that after a throat clear, a loud gulp that I could hear. His eyes were roaming all over, and hadn't moved from my person since he spotted me.   

Seriously, Oliver could have just walked up and shanked the man, and he wouldn't even notice until I left, even if he died first.

Oliver held up his hand, still bearing that horrid geas, and that seemed to serve as proof enough. "You may pass," the other, younger man said to my side. He was all of sixteen, and clearly trying to sound older and more professional.

"Are you both... mages? Wizards?"

I shared a look with Oliver. Should I?

I should, at least until I knew more. I didn't want to lie and get caught in it later. So what should I say? No, I'd tell the truth; let's see how these people handled it. If it turned out I got a reception like I was expecting, then we'd see about lies and weasel words.

"He is a wizard. I am a witch."

Both men looked up from trying to stare at my ass through my cloak, and both went at least two shades paler. "A witch. Right," the talkative one stuttered out, as if just to have something to say.

The other one stepped up, his face closed down. "Can you show us your mark, please?"

Oh ho... did he suspect I was trying to pull a fast one?

I mean I was, so good for him, but I wasn't pulling the fast one he thought I was. I pulled off my glove and showed him my hand, my own mark clearly visible.

I mean, of course it was, the stain I'd used would last for weeks, even if I went bathing.

I could see visible signs of relief. "Is there a problem?"

"No problem, Lady. Ma'am," the chatty one rushed to reassure me. "Please, go ahead."

Right. I knew the reputation of my class would be bad, but perhaps I'd been low-balling it. It was so bad these two didn't even want to tell me how bad it was; they just wanted me away from them as soon as possible.

They were telling me all I need to know, I guess.

The village street was a large dirt path, hard packed and dry, filled with people walking around. There were a few market stalls they were going back and forth to, with some sad looking vegetables and mushrooms, some battered pieces of furniture, and some other odds and ends. Was that lamp oil?

I think it was. I didn't need any, but the temptation to snag something flammable was there. You could always find a use for something that burned on command.

These people didn't care about us; they saw us, there were some murmurs, but they went back to their own business. The guards had seen us and let us in, and apparently that was enough.

We were the only two people dressed like we were; everyone else had on some clothes that I'd consider normal; rough looking pants and a shirt, or a dress for the women, with the occasional apron or scarf for color. They were all wearing shoes at least, ranging from what I'd call slippers to big heavy boots.

Some of the older people running around stopped to watch us, as I led the way. At least Loam was behaving herself. We still had a few hours before dark, but not enough time to get anywhere else before the sun set... probably.  

There was a bar. An inn, whatever you were supposed to call them. It was out of the cold and away from the looks.

While I wasn't getting suspicious looks just yet, I was still getting the other kind of looks. Mainly from the men, but I saw at least two women in the mess. My legs and chest drew all eyes.

I couldn't be arrogant about it, however; as many eyes as I was drawing, Oliver was pulling in; just from different people. We seemed destined to do that - at least Oliver looked somewhat like he expected to, so there was that.

The bar was much like what I'd expect a bar to look like, with only the large fireplace and straw on the floor to really make it stand out. Well, that and the lack of silly lighted bar signs of beer brands and such.

The bar itself stretched across the entire back corner, and it was sanded smooth and shiny by use. The stools in front of it were a bit larger than what I was used to, and the tables and chairs scattered around looked to be roughly made. The whole place stank of beer and some other less identifiable smells.

It was also empty, save for the bartender himself, a short man with a lot of hair all over his head and face who almost looked like the dumpy kegs he had placed behind him, if those things had arms and legs.

He looked up as we entered, and set the ubiquitous rag and mug down to lean on the bar.  "Can I help you?"

"Just looking for a place to get out of the cold."

His eyebrow shot up, but Oliver beat him to the verbal punch: "And get something to drink."

"That I can help with. What'll it be?"

"You have ale?"

The bartender gave my companion a look. "Of course I have ale. Every place has ale, even the places that say they don't. That what you want?"

Oliver surged forward with a "Certainly."

I followed, taking a seat next to the man.

Loam looked between us. Right. How smart was she? "Loam, take a seat here."

She sat, her face serene. One would think that she had no problem with any of this... if she hadn't pulled that look just a moment ago. She could give looks like that, and she could make at least minor judgment calls... as she proved again when the sword came off her shoulder smoothly and got propped up against the bar point down.

The bartender hadn't batted an eye; he already had a clean mug filled, and was plunking it down before Oliver.

He looked to me, and I had to wave him off. "Can't afford anything valuable just yet. Water, if you have some handy."

The man shrugged, casting another glance to Oliver, and grabbed another mug. The water plunked down in front of me was not as clean as I'd like.

Rather than complain about the free water, I'd just do something about it. Since I could. A... I guess you could call it a potion, even if it wasn't used the same. I poured a little into the water, and it cleared, fully purified of all contaminants.

Well, all harmful contaminants. Any dirt and other sediments would still be there; luckily, there wasn't any of that in the mug.  

Loam turned her head. Ah... right, she was made of clay, and moving around. "A similar mug for my friend?"

The bartender sighed.

"Please?"

Oliver paid for his drink, and the man gave in. A mug was plunked down in front of Loam. I picked my mug up; my golem was watching me already. I made sure to show her all the steps; raising the mug to opening my mouth, to the correct angle to use.

Loam managed it, only spilling a little down her front. She seemed satisfied with the effort. I wasn't sure how I knew, but I did. It wasn't some odd sense - at least I didn't think so: just something with to do with how she was sitting, and her expression.

The bartender didn't notice, but Oliver did. He looked to me, and I gave a slight shrug.

"So, sir... is there any work for three enterprising souls such as ours? Like monsters in the area, or something like that?"

I'd almost said two souls. I'd have to watch that.

"No, there's nothing like that. If you're looking for ways to make money, your best bet around here would be to kill some wolves or bears and bring in their pelts and meat for sale. If you find a demon Lady, I'd advise you run. At least for now."

It was that obvious? "Let me guess. You all know the schedule used to summon us here."

The bartender nodded. "Not exactly, but the countries make an announcement and get together. It happens about every thirty years. Sometimes more when the world really needs the help. If you know what to look for, you can spot the new ones - very few of us wear clothes or equipment like you other worlders do."

Of course they didn't. It made sense that our choices would mark us... and that the powers that be would want those choices to mark us.

The man continued: "In order to get to the good stuff, you'll need to go further down the road. About another three days travel along it, you'll start to see the activity or pets of demons. Real monsters, things like that."

That was good info.

"Why live so close to such danger?"

The bartender shrugged. "It isn't always like this. Up until the last few years, we were relatively safe. Even with the last bunch of summoned champions largely failing to drive the demons back. But as for living close to danger, where would we go? Even if we had the money or skills to leave and make a living somewhere else, there is no place safe from the demons and their allies. We live close to their lands, but they can appear anywhere, at any time. Even the Hysil empire is beset by their forces, and many are lost - or so we hear."

The Hysil empire? "The Hysil empire?"

"The main power here, in the world. Or this part of it; I've heard there might be other places across the ocean. Never seen for myself; I've only been to the coast once. The point is, they are the strongest, and until recently, they were making a habit of conquering all the other lands around them. They hadn't gotten to us yet, but it was only a matter of time - until the demons came in force."

Sounds like the demons did them a favor. The shittiest of favors, but still a favor. A pick your poison scenario if ever I heard one.

Oliver decided to weigh in. "how bad is it?"

"It's bad. Like I said before, they haven't reached us, but the heart of the kingdom is currently beset, and the lands West of us are all but besieged. The demon king is likely mustering his army for a push now; he tried last year and was rebuffed, but many a good man was in turning back that attempt. We may not have enough to repel another."

He was being very chatty, this bartender. "Why are you discussing all this with strangers?"

The man gave me a tired and lopsided smile. "You aren't a stranger. You're the champions the King hired to help. Those marks on your hands, the clothes on your backs, they tell a tale. Any sort of help my bad breath can offer you might help us in turn. I'm a bit surprised they didn't tell you all of this at the fort; knowing the situation can only help, I'd imagine."

"They weren't too impressed with us at the fortress," Oliver admitted. "I think they expected better."

The bartender shrugged. "If you're the best the King could hire, who am I to say no to the help? Who is anyone? I'm sure not everyone feels that way, but the more help we have, the better our chances."

There was that word again: hire. We weren't hired; we were enslaved, but this man seemed to think we were. Was that a thing everyone else thought? Was this a majority opinion?

"You keep using that word. Hired. You think we were hired; why?"

"Didn't you enter into a contract with the King? A new life and support in exchange for helping us against our enemies?"

That was a very loose interpretation. I pointed to Oliver's hand. "That and eternal servitude. We weren't given a chance to say no."

"Those marks are only used so that you won't become bloodsick and kill us. Most successful champions have them removed later, when the threat is ended."

This bartender was surprisingly naive. "You've seen that happen before?"

"No, of course not. I've only met one other champion before, and that one died before the demons were thrown back; may his soul find eternal peace."

Interesting phrase there, since if these people were to be believed, our souls had been ripped from our eternal peace. Very interesting indeed.

The man looked nervous now, which hadn't been my intention. "I understand its not ideal for you, but as a people we are desperate. We need those with more power to help us, and you off worlders are all we have to stem the tide. You'll see."

"Right." If that was true, we really should be treated better. There was more going on, more to this. And this bartender was very naive, despite his advancing age.

"At any rate, we don't have an inn. Spare beds might be available, but if you you prefer, I have a space by the fire for you. There won't be many customers anyway, and they'll leave soon enough. We all work for a living here."

I raised an eyebrow, and he relented with a grin that showed far too many gaps where teeth should be. "Alright, everyone but me. I clean mugs in front of a bar."

I gave him my best scoff. "We might take you up on that, but it's too early to retire just yet. Hopefully your neighbors will be as helpful as you."

The man shrugged. "People are people everywhere you go. Some will help... and some won't."

Right, I could see it. "Thanks for the water."

"Thanks for the business," the man replied, with a nod toward Oliver.

Almost forgot. "Loam, follow me."

Loam raised herself smoothly and followed, resettling her sword without having to be prompted.

As soon as we hit the outside, I turned to Oliver. "So they gave you money?"

Oliver nodded, a bit surprised. "They didn't give you any? I mean I didn't get much, but...."

"Not a single coin of the realm." I guess I was expected to die first.

I didn't say it, but Oliver knew it. "Their hopes are funny things, aren't they? Don't worry, I got you, so long as I can afford to."

Right, we were companions now, even if we weren't friends. Who else would watch our back in this strange land, if not each other? "I can certainly make it up to you. I don't have money, but I do have enough stuff to make potions. The basic ones, which include healing potions."

There was no doubt that we'd be getting hurt in the future, and Oliver knew it as well as I did: "Absolutely. That's more than worth a few measly coins. I don't know about most people, but I happen to value my life."

The market was now closing up, apparently racing the fading of the light. People, men and women both, were looking over their shoulders, their smiles faded and tattered. I could feel it, the fear and desperation gusting in the air in fits and starts like a foul wind.

"You feel it?"

"I see it," Oliver answered calmly. "This tells us more than any words can say."

Yeah, whatever was really going on here, whatever take we heard, there was a reality here beyond it all. These people had fear within them. Fear of something, and they were jumping at shadows; shadows that had nothing to do with the people that ruled them.

Oliver walked on, heading toward the center, or as close to the center of the village as possible. Then he did something unexpected. At least, unexpected to me:

He shouted. "Greetings. We are new champions, sent to help. Does anyone here have work for us, or perhaps information? Does anyone here need the assistance of three champions?"

I felt a stab of gratitude for Oliver including Loam; it wasn't the time to reveal her just yet. If someone figured it out, that was fine, but I wouldn't be volunteering that little tidbit.

The crowd paused. Then looked around at each other.

One of the older women, who was dressed in clothes that had looked to have seen better days than most and was herself closer to the witch stereotype than I'd ever be turned to us. "I might offer a pallet on the floor if that pleases you. My home is warm, I can assure you."

"I can offer warmer clothing," a woman much closer to my apparent age said, casting judgmental looks at my 'armor'. I fought the urge to tell her I felt the same way about the stuff, and just shrugged. Her pinched looking face and washed out hair were both dirty, and I wondered what she did; what was her profession?

If she had clothing that better fit Loam or some armor, I'd take it. "I understand; might I instead entreat you to help my friend? this is all she has."

The woman cast her gaze to my creation and immediately took a step back.

Loam, for her part, did nothing unusual, simply studying all the people as they went by. Looking for threats.

The woman looked from Loam to me, her expression accusing. She knew something was up, but not what it was. I shrugged the concerns away.

"Certainly, I can find something more suited to where we are. There is no blacksmith here. We only have old Bits, and all he does is make tools sometimes. The nearest is the fortress, so for full equipage you should head there."

That would not be necessary, of course, but these people didn't know that. They were attempting to do right by us. "I shall, at my earliest convenience."

Which would, of course, be never.

The woman nodded, almost to herself, and hurried off. The others around us glided away, seeming to agree that the matter of our hospitality was closed.

In a way, it was. "Can you show us where you live? I feel we might gain the lay of the land and make use of the time before the sun sets, then come back. Unless that troubles you somehow?"

The old woman shook her head. "Not at all, champions. Please follow me."

She led the way through the square and took a left off the main road, toward the West. The houses here rapidly became both smaller and dirty, with maintaining the structures seeming to take a back seat to some other priority.

The house the old woman stopped in front of, however, was truly tiny. If it was six hundred square feet, I'd eat my new hat. It was better kept than its neighbors though, with some sort of whitewashing on it and most of the dirt scraped off. It had a chimney, as they all did, and with that size, there was no way it could be cold.

Well, maybe if it were missing walls.

I took note of a few other things while I was there. "Alright, Ma'am, thank you for your invitation. You may call me Isobel, and my friends are Oliver and Loam."

The old woman squinted back at us all and then smiled, transforming her face from a weathered map into a thing of beauty. "I am Ingrid. It is a pleasure to meet you, champions. All shall be in readiness for your return."

"Thank you, Ingrid."

I led the way off the street; it was deserted for some reason. A part of me wanted to ask why. Were people not living in the other houses? If so, why not offer us one of those? No, something else was going on here.

I led us back out, and outside the village. The two guards waved as I passed, and I could feel their eyes roving again.

Oliver, ever patient, waited until we were out of earshot, on the other side of the main road, and going back into the forest.

"What are we doing, exactly?"

"Earning our keep. I saw our host didn't have much firewood stacked outside her house, nor do her neighbors. We can help with that. We can gather wild edible plants and mushrooms, and there are some roots and barks from trees we can use as tea, provided I can find them. Not sure they are around here, but we can look at least."

"You can find all that? You know what to look for?"

"I'm an herbalist here. So yes, oddly enough, I'll be pretty useful in the more wild settings and situations." Herbalist, alchemist, it was all the same thing, right? Even if something told me it wasn't. Some inner voice that was pretty insistent about it.

"Right. Well, I can help with the firewood anyway. I'll grab a bunch - Ingrid will have enough for a week, if I have anything to say about it."

I didn't have the heart to tell him Loam would outdo him in that, no matter what he did.

There! That sheltered spot, under a rotting log, a would be a perfect spot for mushrooms. Too close to the village, I'd expect them found here... but sure enough, two mushrooms waited my perusal. Both were non-poisonous, even if they weren't the tastiest types I could expect around here.

Oliver was already gathering firewood... including the log I'd been looking under, one snapped off branch at a time.

That was fine. "Loam, I want you to use your sword and chop this log into lengths about half as long as your arm."

Loam moved, the sword coming down smoothly, a bit too close to me for comfort. I got my stupid ass out of the way before my creation took her next hack.

Hmm, the first one cut clean through the log, showing off her strength. There was even dirt on the blade as she swung it down again, indicating it'd gone into the earth itself.

It was one thing to see a weird screen with statistics on it. It was another to see it all in practice.

Loam made short work of the entire fallen tree; I didn't have to wait long. "Follow me."

Theoretically, my golem should be capable of complicated and multi-step commands. I just didn't want to test it yet. Testing things in uncontrolled conditions led directly to tears.

Oh hey, that looked like a form of wild shallot. My mental comparison said it was edible, and again, it was close to the village. These people had to be foraging; how had they missed this?

I pointed the vegetables out to Loam. "If you see any more of those, let me know."

She should be able to spot anything looking similar to these, now that they were pointed out with how they look while buried. I dug them up carefully.

Loam had shifted when I looked back up; she was giving every possible appearance of paying close attention. Well, every appearance but an actual expression on her face; it was a little creepy.

Oliver came up; the logs Loam had cut were all in a stack behind him, floating in the air as if on an invisible cart. "Oh, onions."

I didn't bother to correct him; he was close enough.

The he gave voice to my thought. "Seems weird; we can still see the village, and they aren't exactly flush with food or cash."

"Yeah, I don't know." You'd expect people living in the woods to be woodsy, after all.

So many questions. Maybe it was me? I was spotting these things rather easily, even stumbling over this stuff, as if lucky. Was it something to do with my class?

I walked further in, looking for more dead logs. The next one was quite a distance away, and sure enough, there were a few more mushrooms under it. I collected them carefully, taking note that Loam was watching. "Loam, chop this log up like you did the last one, into pieces roughly the same size."

I stepped back as my creation stepped in, doing much the same as before. A bit more complex a command that time, and it worked. Even more, I seemed to feel a sense of... satisfaction? Contentment? Something like that, as my creation stepped past me.

It was clear something was there, behind those gem eyes, and that was a bit scary. Even if I was sure the thing would never willingly harm me.

It was possible for someone to wrest control of another's golem, but whoever tried that with mine had better be very strong. Stronger than I was for sure, whatever that meant.

Oliver floated the newly made logs up as they were chopped, adding them to his pile.

Now I should focus on game... I could sense the life around me after all; such hunting should be easy.

It wasn't easy.

Oh, I could sense the little lives around me, the squirrels and rabbits and ground hogs and whatever else. That was the easy part. The hard part was how to kill them without nuking them and making them inedible? I could use poisons, but that didn't feel right. Caustics didn't seem humane, and just plain old fire would ruin the carcass.

I needed more options. Maybe I could outsource. "Loam. Can you sense the small lives around us?" I had to whisper here; didn't want to spook the animals.

The golem opened her mouth, and I swore I saw a slight trace of annoyance on her slack face before she shut it. Then she shook her head.

Interesting. I walked closer cautiously and touched her, applying my spell to her. It wouldn't work for everyone, but even as Loam counted as a target, she also counted as an extension of myself for the purpose of most of my magic.

"Can you sense the small lives around us now?"

Loam nodded, so I pointed. "I want you to kill that one as quickly as possible."

The breeze alerted me. Loam hadn't taken a single step, but her sword, the sword I'd given her, had flashed past my freaking nose; she'd missed me, and that was on purpose, but I hadn't even seen her arm come down.

Cracking behind me let me know she'd put that cheap steel through a tree.

"Go recover your sword and the body."

I turned to follow her progress as she flashed forward and... ooh, she'd split the tree in half, and it was going to fall. I tried to guess as it slid off its own stump, and mostly managed. I only got slapped by a few branches after my mad dash.

Loam came back, through the tree trunk itself, carrying the now dead rabbit I'd pointed out. The head had been cleanly bisected by the tip of the blade, and aside from some leaking brains, everything was intact.

Oliver, are you throwing up? What? It's just a rabbit. At least he'd dodged the tree.

"Loam...."

My golem was looking at me, and I could swear there was expectation there. "No, never mind. Next time, try to preserve the trees, if you can."

I didn't have the heart to lay into her, whatever she really was and whatever she understood. Loam didn't nod, but she didn't need to for this.

"Loam, carry the rabbit by its hind feet, and hold it away from you." We needed to start heading back, and we also needed to bleed the animal as much as we could. Without getting Loam or any of the rest of us bloody. We had enough to pay our way, at the very least.

It was definitely bleeding. I'd imagine it'd be empty by the time we got back.

It was a shame to leave the tree here, but it wasn't cured just yet, so even if we cut it, it wouldn't burn well.

Oliver stepped close. I almost swayed away from his hand, but his touch was slow and feather light. He came away with leaves. Leaves from my hair.

Honestly, I should be dead. It would have been pretty silly to have been brained by a tree my own Golem cut down while following my orders. I wonder how many people brought in like this died to dumb shit the same way I almost had?

I mean, this life was young; there was plenty of time to die to the dumbest shit possible.

I led us; the way back was easy enough; we'd come straight south, down the mountain, so straight north would see us back. It took a bit longer to get back than it should have; we surely hadn't taken a full hour to walk out here, had we?

Maybe it was the uphill aspect of the hike back. Whatever, it was good exercise.

The sun was setting right as we made it back. The guards had their spears to one side, and were working on closing the gate. "Excuse us, gentlemen, you weren't planning on leaving us outside, were you?"

Without missing a beat, one of the guards replied: "If you were any later, champion, yes."

He did relent, however, and stepped out of the way. I got close and he... stepped back, looking at something behind me. Looking at Loam, who had somehow gotten a little blood on her. Thankfully, the rabbit was pretty empty by now, with only a few drops left. Hopefully not enough for anything to track here, and surely not enough for anything to bother.

Loam could cut a pretty impressive sight, and all without trying. It was the slack expression and the human height sword more than anything else. A sword that not many humans could swing with abandon. Certainly not for long. Loam could swing it all day.

Whatever, we were in, and the gate thudded closed behind us. The guards took up posts in small towers to either side of the entrance. I was surprised there were no eyesight destroying torches, but it seemed the people were at least a little savvy after all.

I retraced our steps; the side street was even more dimly lit than before. Everything was in shadow now. "Oliver."

I pointed to the places the people who lived on this street stacked their firewood at.

"Right." Oliver started dropping off our wood, a night's worth at least at each house. By the time we made it to the end, we still had enough for any five homes. That would be all for our benefactor.

I knocked on the door lightly, taking careful note of how it shuddered in its frame.

The old lady answered, and her eyes widened as she took us in. That much, I could see clearly even as the light from inside the house seared my eyes.

"Come in, come in!"

I had to duck to do so, and Loam almost had to crawl to follow me. Oliver sighed in clear relief as he ducked low, his last stack of wood in his arms.

"What?"

"It was just... I was carrying a lot of weight. Finally, I can let the spell go."

Ah, right. "Was it that hard?"

"It was like holding up a milk jug. Fine for the first hour, but it got heavier the more time passed."

I wasn't sure where to go here, in this little living room. The thing was barely big enough for the old woman; with all of us in here, we could sit within reach of each other and still end up with our backs to the walls. Well, almost.

"Loam, hand me the rabbit body, if you please."

My creation almost shoved the filthy corpse in my face; I got a hand on it just in time, and managed to pass it on. "Here, A gift for you. Well, for all of us... A meal for the night, with only a little prep work."

The old woman's eyes gleamed in the guttering light of her single tallow candle. She took in the rabbit, the mushrooms, and the few tubers we'd found with a chuckle.  "You honor me! A feast! Tonight, a feast!"

She took our offerings gently from my hands and bustled off to a kitchen that looked even smaller than the living room from here. There was enough space for her to work and little else.

Even so, she had the rabbit hanging by a foot on a hook already, and a sharp knife plunged in its guts. She was fast, the weight of experience showing, telling a tale.

The mushrooms were also in a pot, soaking in water. "Oliver."

I turned to find Loam RIGHT THERE, watching the old woman mere inches from my shoulder. Of course, with her sword still in hand. "Loam, sit down where you were. You can put your sword down, if you like. Just prop it in the corner."

Loam backed up and sat down, but kept her sword in hand, all but driving the point through the floor as she rested her hands on it. Behind me, the old woman cackled. "She'd soon give up her arm as her sword. Don't worry, it's fine. Such a champion makes me feel safe this night. Surely, no demon shall claim us now!"

I bit back the comment about jinxing us because after all, it would jinx us. "Oliver, pass a few logs and some kindling."

He did, and I passed them to the old woman in turn. She took them gratefully with muttered thanks, already focused once again on the rabbit. I backed off to let her do her work.

Saving the world one meal at a time, that was us.