Chapter 28: The Unlucky Artisan

Subject: Caim Location: Sorus Valley

Having walked a ways from the intersection where he’d met the Drilldraves seeker party, Caim was still staring at the note in his hand, lost in a daze.

The handwriting on the coarse paper was unsteady, as if written by someone unaccustomed to writing for another’s eyes. Even so, Caim could read it.

He heard muffled sobbing and looked up, stuffing the paper into his cloak. There was no one else on the road ahead.

Closer still, Caim looked off the road in the direction of the sound. Nine paces away was a fallen tree. A girl sat on the tree with her back to the path.

“Are you alright?” Caim called out.

Her red ponytail swung in a wide arc as she spun to face him. She stood so suddenly that her foot slipped and she fell back on her bottom.

“Ugh,” she groaned.

The girl looked out of sorts. Her dirty brown and green harvester’s overalls hadn’t been properly washed in weeks. It also didn’t look like she’d bathed in a while.

Actually, now that Caim got a closer look, the overalls were worse than just dirty. They were worn ragged, but the protective fabric was still durable.

“Stay there,” she demanded.

Caim took a step back and waited for the girl to rise.

Though she was a fragile thing, she proudly did what she could to conceal her tears. The stranger was very clearly wallowing in misery, but she didn’t despair.

Maybe it wasn’t out of pride. Perhaps it was something more like determination?

“I’m fine. Just a run of bad luck is all. Who and what are you?”

“My name is Caim. I’m a Seeker Initiate.”

Frustrated, the girl shook her head. Intelligent pink eyes sized him up.

She’s guarded.

“No offense, but I didn’t want you to state the obvious,” she explained. “What other work do you do?”

Caim was confused.

“What other? I am only a seeker. Today is my first day, too.”

The short girl stared at Caim and then looked down at the ground. It looked like she had suddenly zoned out. She slid down to the ground and then let her head fall into her hands.

“I’m sorry. I really should be better at reading people,” she apologized without looking up. “But, in my defense, I haven’t exactly been at my best lately. My name is Gwen.”

Caim wanted to help Gwen, but he knew that he had enough trouble taking care of himself. But she really did look miserable, and Caim could relate.

He didn’t say anything, because he didn’t want to offer what he didn’t have.

“I came to Maliscade because there is more opportunity in a Bastion City,” she explained, still talking to the ground. “I didn’t have much, but I had some equipment… and I guess I thought I was more skilled than I actually was. Maybe I thought there was more opportunity to go around?”

Gwen had with her a small hand drill of some kind, clutched tightly to her chest. Its well-maintained metal grooves shone silver, in stark contrast to how dirty everything else was.

“Are you a harvester?” Caim asked.

“What? Oh, no. I guess I could be, but that isn’t where my skills fall. I don’t want to be trapped in festerfonts all the time. I’m a merchant artisan.”

Gwen looked up, proudly emphasizing the title. However, the confidence was short-lived.

“Or... I should be. But I can’t seem to get off the ground. I can’t even pay for lodging, and I can barely afford to feed myself. And that isn’t even the worst part.”

There’s more?!

“It actually has to do with who I thought you were when you found me. You see… I’m sort of deep in debt with some people I didn’t know were Greys at the time.”

“Is that the name of some kind of criminal organization?”

The unlucky artisan’s eyes focused on Caim, and she gave him a stare that was a mix of sorrow and disbelief.

“You don’t... Look, it doesn’t matter. The point is that I’m Pulse-bound to pay these parasites back if I want to be able to live comfortably in the city. And even if I wanted to leave… Maliscade has unique opportunities for people like me that even the other frontier cities can’t match. That’s why I’m out here.”

Caim’s heart hurt.

I can’t bring her to Alice or Mille. They’ve done enough for me. They have their hands full.

“I don’t have much money, but maybe you could make a payment to keep them off your back?” Caim gently offered.

He handed over the coins given to him by the seekers as payment for the courier job.

“How much?” Gwen asked, counting the coins. “This is just enough to keep me alive for a day, with some left for food!”

Caim’s regret at handing over what little coin he had ended fast. Gwen’s pink eyes were gleaming as she looked at the coins. It was painful to see such a small gesture having such an emotional impact.

Gwen looked at Caim like he was her personal savior. Unreserved gratitude. He smiled back, but when he did, Gwen’s gaze hardened.

“Wait. What do you want in return?”

Caim could see what was going through Gwen’s head. She’d been betrayed, and now every lifeline felt like it came with a price.

“Nothing. And I might be able to help later if you come to find me at the Guild sometime. You know they offer free lodging if you register as a seeker, right? I think you have to apply for placement, though. Everyone has to bunk in one large room, but it’s better than nothing.”

This was news to Gwen.

“They do? But then... won’t I have to fight blightbeasts?”

“You will need to go through an Initiation Ritual. Don’t… uh…”

Gwen leaped up and grabbed hold of Caim’s cloak, pulling him close. Nervously, he froze, but he didn’t jump back for fear of hurting the downtrodden girl even more.

“Don’t what? Please tell me everything.”

“I can’t tell you everything, but I can tell you that you will be safe during the ritual. It might be scary, but there is no way for you to get hurt. Please don’t tell anyone I warned you about it, though. It’s a secret.”

Gwen stepped back and gave Caim some space, but she still didn’t seem wholly convinced.

“Then I’ll have to fight those monsters after the ritual… I can’t do that. I’m not like you people.”

Like what people? I’m not like those people either. I almost died to grubs...

“Then you will be able to stay at the Guild for a week. If you complete a contract before that week is up, you can stay for another week. Those were the rules they told me.”

“I can’t do any fighting, but if I can stay for a week, that is a blessing. I guess that would make you Korsa’s divine agent.”

Gwen smiled like she didn’t actually believe that last comment, but that she wanted to express her gratitude in some way. A figure of speech.

Rapidly, Caim went down the list of Hexaline deities Mille and Alice had tried to teach him earlier. He thought Korsa was among them because Gwen had used the words “blessing” and “divine”.

The Wanderer. Korsa is The Wanderer.

“Haha, I don’t know about that. I’m just doing what anyone else would do,” Caim shrugged.

Gwen fell silent and stared at the ground again. He felt like he’d said something that only an outsider would.

“No, you’re not. You have no idea how many people passed me by. They weren’t trying to be mean, I know that. Why risk the attention of the Enforcers if you can avoid it, am I right?”

Gwen looked like she tried to laugh, but only tears came out. She held tightly to the coins. Also impossible to miss were the periodic glances down to the harvester’s tool. Confirming it was still there, or taking comfort in its polished grooves and interlocking mechanisms.

Is she… Should I comment on this kind of thing? Probably not, but it’s making me curious. There is more to her story than she’s telling me. Just what is that tool for?

“Life is so much different when you are on the bottom looking up. I wish I’d known that before leaving home. My parents must be worried, but they are too far away to help me.”

Trembling, the girl tried to stop crying, but the effort only made the tears flow more freely. Caim was affected by this display too. He was almost moved to tears, but he suppressed them. Instead, he gently patted Gwen on the back, trying to help.

It was an awkward half-measure, perfect for two strangers who didn’t really trust one another.

Gwen looked startled at first, but it passed. She relaxed and leaned close. Before he knew it, she was crying into his open cloak. Apparently, she’d really been needing someone to lend a hand, and maybe also an ear.

Caim was happy to ease her suffering a little, but he couldn’t do much more than this. Instead of feeling relieved for being of help, he became irritated. As the sobs continued, that irritation built into anger.

He was mad at the circumstances that forced Gwen to act so scared to reach out for help. Fear of betrayal, fear of showing weakness.

Shroud wasn’t the only place that created an atmosphere where people couldn’t even ask for help without making themselves a target. But… who could be blamed? Who was responsible?

What have I learned from the last time I felt like this? What mistakes won’t I make now, with thinking like this?

This led to thoughts about Alice’s situation. The poor girl hated herself just for being born. Was it the religion that caused it? If only it was that simple.

Then there was Mille, the faron in a society ruled by humans. She had power and respect, so it was harder to see the impact of institutional inequality on her life. Mille accepted that it would be this way, and she worked with what she had.

It doesn’t have to stay this way, though. I’m getting stronger.

If this continued, thoughts would turn to actions. Messy actions, based on an incomplete understanding of this foreign place.

Subject: Caim Location: Sorus Valley

After a while, Gwen stopped crying and recomposed herself. She looked more at ease.

“Could you walk with me back to the city?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’ll also talk to my friend, but I can’t promise she’ll be able to do anything.”

Gwen had started walking, but she froze in place.

“Your… friend?” she asked, suspicion in her tone.

I shouldn’t have said anything.

“Well, acquaintance, at the very least. She is a Guild Clerk. But she won’t do me any favors on your behalf. If anything… I owe her. I’m sorry to be blunt, but that’s also why I have to make sure not to cause any problems for her or the Guild.”

Just shut your mouth, Caim.

Gwen continued walking, and Caim did too.

Oh, I understand,” Gwen answered, slightly disheartened. “I’m envious. I don’t have any friends in Maliscade.”

“I’m actually pretty much in the same position… I got lucky, so it makes me feel better that I can help someone else out at all.”

The merchant looked at him with fresh eyes. She looked hopeful, and it made Caim want to keep talking.

“I have no money. Unlike you, I also have no skills. Oh, uh, I guess I can cast two spells. Barely.”

Wait. Someone in Gwen’s position might be able to help me after all, Caim realized.

“Now that I think about it, there is something I do need. You might be able to help me out, but it is just a request. If you do, I have an idea of how to keep you in the bunkhouse for longer than a week.”

As expected, this made Gwen grow suspicious again.

“What do you mean? There are some things I won’t do, even if it means I’ll starve.”

“No, no, no. Nothing like that,” Caim hastily clarified. “I’ll tell you about it on the walk back.”

Subject: Caim Location: Sorus Valley

“This is incredible! You passed yourself off as a local, but you’re worse off than me?”

Caim nodded.

“I thought it was strange that you didn’t even know what Greys were, but I guess being born into a wilderness research commune would explain that. Basic information can’t seep into every isolated place in Shroud. I feel bad for you, having not been taught all of this. I promise I’ll keep it to myself.”

Anxiously, Caim stared deep into Gwen’s eyes and tried to determine whether she meant it. At first, she looked surprised by the sudden stare. Then, surprise turned to understanding and maybe something along the lines of appreciation.

It didn’t look like she would tell anyone his secret. Not the version of it he told her, at least.

“So... will you do it?”

Gwen looked pensive. Not fearful of unknowns, so much as she appeared to be judging how much she stood to gain from this particular arrangement.

I really lost the high ground in negotiations fast. Oh well.

“If you act ignorant about such things in a city like this, Enforcers will look your way.”

He nodded.

“I’ll teach you things about Maliscade and Shroud, but only after you’ve done your end. But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate what you’ve already done.”

I need to make enough to feed myself, save up for a weapon, and pay back my debts. I can’t give it all to this girl, even if she needs it.

“Only one contract a week. I need better equipment to survive,” Caim emphasized.

“I only need one contract to stay in the bunkhouse, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s just a bunk bed. I haven’t slept in it yet, but it looks uncomfortable.”

Gwen waved away his concerns. She didn’t seem all that interested in the quality of the accommodations. Caim couldn’t blame her when she’d had nowhere to live.

“One contract for a week of rest? The Guild must really care about the work you people do.”

They want those monsters gone. They’re invested. They’re determined. They’re desperate.

“I guess so, but seekers would usually want to improve their lives. They’re incentivized to keep completing contracts to feed themselves and move out of the bunkhouses. Now that I think about it… maybe there are some that do merely the bare minimum. Festerfonts are…”

Caim didn’t need to finish his sentence for Gwen to understand what he meant. With a solemn nod, she didn’t need to say a word to convey how she felt about the matter.

“I did some basic research before deciding that life wasn’t for me. How do you do it? You’re new to it, but you’re already scared. You want to keep doing it, to do more than the minimum. Why is that? In familiar terms, the ‘Blight economy’ is entirely too broken for me to understand.”

Halfway back to Maliscade now, Gwen threw an inquisitive stare Caim’s way. He thought carefully before answering.

“I’ll give you a better answer when I have more experience, but I do think I have some insight at this stage.”

Narrowed pink eyes peered out from between windswept strands of red hair. Gwen wanted to understand because she wanted to change her situation. Caim’s answers might help her.

“The Blight is strange, but it’s the seeds that seekers want. Eating them is horrible, but they make you stronger. I’ve only experienced it a handful of times, but I know that I want to enhance myself. I want to be… more.”

Gwen took Caim’s words seriously and fired back a new question.

“I’ve seen the wealth of the Guild. The blightsources they trade in are valuable, but harvesters take on a lot of risks to get them. If the Guild issued only harvest contracts, that is a market I’d be able to wrap my head around. But I learned that the majority involve killing for no reward to the Guild.”

“They want the Blight cleansed. The Guild is not a business. It is like a separate government within Shroud, I think.”

“That is why it can shelter a person for a week, for nine pricy days of life, and justify the expense?”

“I think so… Wait. Did you just say a week was nine days?”

It changed. I know it did.

“Yes. Don’t tell me I have to teach you the holy calendar, too,” Gwen sighed.

Just yesterday, a week was seven. It was…

Caim collapsed as a wave of nausea overcame him. He clutched his head to try and fight through the accompanying headache.

“Caim, what happened?! Is it a wound from a blightbeast?”

It changed, but a week was nearly inconsequential. Caim could explain away the difference by reasoning that the Guild used a different calendar or something. But one of their casual conversations had included a discussion about the calendar days, and Caim was trying to remember the specifics.

No, I’m wrong. Mille must have said nine. I wasn’t really paying attention.

“New… question…” Caim mumbled through the ringing in his ears. “How many hours… in a day?”

Confused and scared, Gwen answered softly.

“32.”

Caim didn’t know what was happening or how to make it stop, but he knew it had something to do with what Vera did to him.

The headache was tremendous, but somehow Caim managed to stand. Without worrying about the fact that Gwen was watching him, he conjured Scion. Right now, the pain overrode his fear of being discovered.

“What is that,” she gasped.

He didn’t reply. There was someone else he wanted to speak to.

The metallic guardian’s wings shimmered in the rays of daylight seeping through pastel pink clouds. It communicated with Caim as it always did.

Where is enemy?

“Vera,” Caim replied. “Can I somehow speak to her through you?”

There was silence. Caim felt that Scion was strained by his request. Seconds ticked by, impossibly slow. Tension building.

Not yet, Scion answered. Soon.