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20 – It Begins

  I was a young girl in a small village, in a world with gender standards that, at first glance, were the equivalent of seven centuries prior to April’s time. Therefore, assuming the defences held, I probably wouldn’t see any fighting. I felt guilty about that, but my talent didn’t exactly lend itself to frontline efforts anyway.

  Well. Not yet.

  There was one glaring difference between April’s Dark Ages and my current circumstances, and that was the general equality that years of gaining free points via a talent could provide.

  All talents provided free points, in one way or another. The ease with which they were acquired was generally what distinguished a common talent from an elite one. Of course, the talents themselves were useful too, and typically functioned as a lesser magic power that each person had. Always unique… but always leading to the same goal: these tasks provide you with skill points. Use them as you see fit.

  Farmers naturally spent their free points on farming skills. Weavers improved their weaving, and on and on.

  For me, the obvious choice for my skills was social acumen. After all, the better I got to know people, the more easily I could make things for them, and reap the benefits in free points, while also giving them something they truly needed. Even if they didn’t know why.

  Most people weren’t wired to just place skill points in one skill. Once free points became part of daily life, either via using talents or by the incredibly rare level up, people tended to place them in areas of expertise that no one would expect.

  It was why Korlotom was such a fantastic song maker, and Uraleka was widely considered the town's best cook, even if she was no longer its best weaver.

  No one wanted to overspecialize to the point where they had no other use beyond their one profession. The norm most people chose was making sure their most important skills remained on top, while growing whatever other skills they wanted to learn could be done on a whim.

  A few years after gaining a talent, even if it was a common one, people began to develop surprising special skills, that they never even hinted at having in their daily lives.

  Like the woman who truly wanted to defend herself, learning to wield a dagger with almost eighty points in the skill. The blind man who added over a hundred points to his archery skill, and became good enough to shoot accurately at two hundred paces by fucking sound.

  Lupkep’s wife, Edra, was a good example, too. She was a terrifying water mage because she cleaned the many children who ran amok in her streets as a sort of public service. I knew that firsthand! I’d been one of them. She’d never been formally trained, but household magic could develop along specific lines, if pushed.

  It led to an interesting loosening of gender norms, the further past eighteen anyone got. No one could know if the person they just insulted might be an expert knife thrower, spellcaster, or worst of all, a gossip.

  This wasn’t quite the equalizer that guns tended to be, but it did go a long way toward explaining why there were nearly as many armed women watching the barricades as there were men.

  Women fighters were still viewed as odd, which was probably why Elsee had reacted so strongly to my implication that she’d wanted to be a ranger. I thought she might be surprised to see just how many women had an above-average skill level with the bow.

  I had finally run out of easy need bubbles to craft. Thankfully I’d found the time to make Eysee her armor, though I hadn’t found the time to get it to her. It sat in the bar along with Elsee’s crossbow, waiting for them. Oddly, though, I didn’t think the armor would actually fit her. It looked a little big, but Mularet’s vest had fit him like a glove.

  Weird… but I’d have to actually see the girl to figure out how well it fit her.

  Akkiwa got her pearl-laden staff that added a passive bonus to her healing skill, which would’ve made me fucking rich. Skill-changing items were often worth more than their weight in gold. Still, the nature of my talent was to become close to people, in order to lower the requirements of making the item. Most of the time, once I was close enough to someone that I could afford to make the item, it felt wrong to then charge them for it. Still, I didn’t technically have any obligation to give someone’s crafted item to them. One day that might matter, but not when we were about to be under siege.

  Still, I was sitting on a massive one hundred and thirteen free skill points and was hesitant to use any of them. Again, I felt tempted to dump them into fire magic, but that actually would’ve been very stupid. Just because I might have one hundred points in fire magic, didn’t mean I would then have the necessary mana to do anything with it. Mana built over time, and there were skills that would improve the effectiveness of the intelligence stat, as well as ones that directly improved the quantity of mana and the speed at which it regenerated.

  I, sensibly, had none of these, as they were incredibly dangerous to learn as a child. I could now, and intended spend some time begging mom to teach me some of them, whenever I had some time.

  When I was a young girl, in this world, I’d been fascinated by household magic and I’d explored it uses more than most in my experiments at my lab… but I hadn’t dedicated as much time to it as I might’ve wished. Instead, I finally decided to use a small portion of the total, dropping thirty points evenly into persuasion, endurance, and networking.

  Persuasion and networking were both geared towards improving my ability to get to know people, and therefore increase my ability to gain free points. The faster and closer I bonded with others, the faster I directly gained skills.

  Endurance… well. I did not want to encounter another troll again, but if I did, I wanted to sure as shit be able to run away from it. I had every intention of focusing most of my skills on social acumen in the future, but until this threat was over, I wanted to be able to get away from danger.

  While I was at it, I threw another ten into running, leaving me seventy three free points.

  Persuasion reached 65, Networking, which seemed to be a catch-all term for individual social acumen, was boosted to fifty five. Endurance reached a pidly fourty-nine, which felt like a waste since the lower a skill’s level was, the easier it was to gain points in it naturally. Still, I felt like I would need it if I encountered something I had to run from. Running was a little better, bumping up to sixty three. I’d been a pretty active kid.

  The cushion of seventy three free points to be used for whatever I might need felt pretty good to me.

  With my idleness noticed, I had been tasked to carry rations in the form of barrels of soup to the three ‘camps’ at the north, west, and, most importantly, east road fortifications just outside of town. I didn’t mind and was happy for the opportunity to meet many of the residents who only ever came to town once a season, or were just not very social. Plenty of people just didn’t visit the bar, not least of which because they, too, remembered Edra’s vigorous water magic scrub.

  “And I only made it stronger with that little amulet… the kids are going to hate me,” I thought, amused, as I made my way out towards the eastern fortifications.

  Fortunately, I wasn’t alone! Hadra had similarly been confined to her weaver's shop, constantly sewing warmer clothes for everyone manning the watch. She was working harder than almost anyone else in town, save her own mother. Her fingers were calloused and bloody from all of her efforts, and she’d needed a break more than the watch did.

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  She and I together were just strong enough to put the cauldrons of hot broth on the cart and ride Stoutgruff to the outpost…

  …And my heavens, what had we done?

  The outpost smelled horrible. It came as a shock every time.

  Lids were not capable of containing the awful stench of the pepper paste. I’d delivered soup out to the camps many times by now, and I’d still never gotten used to it, even though I’d been personally responsible for making all of it.

  “Ho! Looks like dinner’s arrived!” Came a boisterous shout from above, as I approached the watchpost. People were glancing toward us excitedly, both from the watchpost and from behind the spiked walls that now served as a loose blockade.

  I felt bad for all of them, not least because I felt like I’d personally made this watch more awful than it already would’ve been. Long hours spent outside on a land flirting with winter, all while smelling eye-watering pepper paste? Heavens…

  These parents, fathers and mothers, and older sons and daughters had been tasked with this hellish watch after already halving the labor force available to help with the harvest, which couldn’t be neglected for anything so petty as a troll attack. This constant guard had been taxing on everyone, and hot broth was pretty much the only relief they might get.

  I’d personally been working as hard as I could in the fields to make up for the fact that I wasn’t allowed at the camps. Though I’d only done that once we were sure I couldn’t make items for anyone else.

  “Is that all we are?” I shouted back up to the twins' Father, Mularet. “Dinner!?”

  “We’re out here freezing while you sit at the bar! I’d call you a fair many worse names than Dinner, if I had my way!!” he called.

  I grinned, noticing the hard leather jacket he was wearing. It looked warm and as tough as platemail. I hoped it would keep him as safe as the similar one I’d made for Eysee.

  “Oh, that’s how it is?” Hadra called up, joining me in my mischief. “I suppose we can bring this portion out to the north watch! I bet they’ll appr–!”

  A loud, familiar growl pierced the evening air.

  I froze.

  Eyes shot toward the east.

  I spotted it there. It stood, its massive snout curled in a disgusted scowl. It could smell the paste too. It didn’t like it.

  Good.

  That growl was the only warning we got before a sort of howl echoed through the open land. The trees had been cut far back and away from where they’d been before, and we could see almost a hundred paces to where the troll was standing.

  It charged, running like a wild beast.

  More of them poured out from the distant tree line, but before it even made it two paces, an arrow took it straight in the eye. It squealed like a kicked dog, before flopping back to the ground as if the arrow had been the bastard offspring of a sledgehammer and a bullet.

  Heavens, that was a good fucking shot.

  I wanted to watch the fight, but there was no time. Stoutgruff was stamping the ground anxiously. He hadn’t liked that howl anymore than I had.

  Fuck, those things were fast. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I knew how fast they were first hand but still…

  “Haddy, we’ve gotta go. I’ll get Stoutgruff turned around. You head back to town and warn everyone that there’s an attack on the East side.

  Just as I finished talking, a sudden horn call blew out from someone atop the watchtower.

  “Well. Just let them know anyway,” I said, feeling a little stupid. Of course, Dobretin had developed a method for warning of an attack.

  “Don’t be stupid, Mera. We have to run now. The ox will be fine!”

  I stared at her incredulously.

  “I’m not leaving Stoutgruff and running, Haddy!”

  “Ugh! Fine, then get her turned around fast!” she shouted, before sitting firmly back in the seat.

  “What are you doing?” I shouted, taking the reins and urging the ox to turn around. They never moved very fast at the best of times, but Stoutgruff sure seemed happy to do so now as the cart jerked harshly, soup sloshing around in the back.

  “I’m not just going to leave you! We’ll go back together!”

  The howls of the trolls were getting louder now. They were screaming as they died, but I could hear the sound of their footsteps.

  We turned as sharply as we could, and only a single wheel rolled off the hard-packed road, but that was enough. The wheel shattered, and the cart lurched to the left, smashing Haddy against me as the cart tilted.

  “Shit!” I exclaimed over Hadra’s cry of alarm.

  “Mera! Get out of here!” came Mularet’s shout from above.

  “Trying!” I screamed back.

  Hadra pulled herself off me enough for me to squeeze out of the open side. Fucking shit, what a time for the cart to break.

  I chanced a glance back toward the clearing and found the creatures had gotten terrifyingly close. They were dying, though. Most of them looked more like pincussions than monsters at this point. Plenty of people here were veterans of the Rift front, and they knew what it took to take down a war troll.

  Occasionally, though, one of those ridiculous sledgehammer arrows took out a troll all the way back near the treeline. What kind of skill was that?

  I didn’t have the time to find out. The cart would have to be abandoned, but first, I had to get Stoutgruff detached from it. I moved quickly to the girl’s neck, and the cart righted itself after Hadra joined me on the ground.

  The soup was a complete loss, the cauldrons spilling hot broth all over the ground.

  “Throw the pepper!” Someone shouted, and I heard the sudden twang of slingshots and the howls of trolls.

  “One got through!”

  “Kill the fucker!”

  “I’ve got it!”

  Shouting and loud screams echoed around the road, and I felt more than heard the frantic attacks of men and women near the pickets only a few paces ahead of me.

  “Fuck, fuck, son of a bitch!” I screamed as I desperately tore at the buckles. Stoutgruff was in a full panic and wasn’t making it easier as he managed to actually drag the broken cart and me along with him in an effort to get away. He was old and only managed a few steps, but it dislodged me from the buckles.

  “Hurry, Mera!”

  “Dammit, go, Haddy!” I shouted. “I have pepper spray! You don’t! I’ll be right behind you!”

  “F-fuck that! I’m not leaving you alone again!” She swore, before turning toward the battlefield, only to see a troll barrelling past all the fortifications. People were chasing it, and it was bleeding, but it hadn’t been stopped.

  “Haddy!” I screamed, but the girl was surprisingly steady.

  I saw a small glint of metal. The tiniest…

  “Haddy, are you insane!?”

  Apparently, she was, because I watched in horror as the girl directed fucking needles at the monster's eyes.

  “The amulet I made her,” I thought in shock.

  Most of them missed, but at least one of them struck true. The monster wailed, screeching in pain as it threw its head back.

  That was long enough for someone to stab a wooden spear through its back. It howled, confused for just a moment, before slumping to its knees. It weakly raked its claws back, but its strength had been sapped by the fatal attack.

  There was a sickening squelch as the woman kicked the troll's body off her spear, and it tumbled to the ground with a loud thump.

  “Get out of here, girls!” Called the spearwoman – Istara, I thought her name was? – before she turned and rushed back toward the oncoming horde.

  “Y-Yeah okay!” I called.

  Ilhadira was shaking like a leaf.

  I turned back to Stoutgruff, wondering fearfully if there was a harness removal skill I could dump some free points into. After what felt like an eternity, I finally removed the last strap before yanking the harness off him.

  He jerked free, wrenching my arm a little bit, as he dashed off as fast as I’d ever seen him run, honking like a goose.

  I met Hadra’s eyes, and we took off after him, running away from the sounds of dying trolls.

  I made it three steps before tripping. I screamed as my ankle burned, twisting sharp pain radiating up my leg.

  “Fuck! Son of a bitch!” I screamed, turning back towards the battlefield.

  There were so many. We should’ve evacuated! We… we were going to die.

  ‘Not again,’ I thought, horrified, hands trailing to my throat as I trembled.

  “Joenal! What the fuck are you do–!? Get back here!”

  Wait… Dad?

  I suddenly saw a very familiar figure striding out past the picket lines and spearmen.

  “Oh god, Dad!” I screamed.

  He couldn’t hear me, of course. No one could hear anything over the howls of pain and glee from the savage monsters.

  Dad was holding the scythe I’d made for him.

  He lifted it up like something straight out of a story. It felt like slow motion. I’d seen him do this hundreds of times. He was using his talent, but it was different this time.

  Darker. Sound suddenly stopped working across the entire world, as I watched his strong arms slowly descend.

  He swung.

  made it yet, but I've flirted with page fucking 1 a few times. That's top 20 on the entire site yall. You guys are the best!

  MB

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