Control Comes from Within

I dropped by Ennin’s house a few times when I found myself free or unable to work. Her family’s house was modest but comfortable. Gillen was young enough that his mother, Evelyn, taught him the fundamentals, until he reached the age where he needed tutors or schooling. Apparently, the academy wasn’t the only educational institution.

There were schools for commoners that taught the basics of reading, writing, mathematics, literature and history. The schools were considerably cheaper than the academy, and located in various cities and towns, Khobadaar being one of them. Evelyn told me about everything over a cup of tea the first time I dropped by, and also revealed that she planned to send him to the local school when he turned five.

Gillen was the same chatterbox I remembered, monologuing better than any teacher ever could, even when the subject was something he only tangentially knew about. He was curious about how far I had progressed as a workman. So, at his insistence and pleading, we compared our Society cards, and the tiers on the back.

I still had 8’s on most of them, but in the laborer and gathering categories, I had reached tier 6, and in the essence category, I had reached tier 7. The taming jobs fell under the essence category, which was why it rose by one. I was a little surprised that Gillen’s card had a 7 in the laborer category just from working at the inn. He said he was learning a lot when he worked, but he forgot a lot too, so it all evened out, making me chuckle when he explained it to me.

Ennin worked most days at the Workman’s Society, and she was already saving up for a place of her own. There was nothing like the ‘out at eighteen’ custom that my world had, but apparently she had her eye on a certain property, and the cost was astronomical, at least for a commoner.

She and her mother were overly polite with each other while I was over, but that came to an end when I presented my official greeting gifts: sweets and pastries from a tier 3 bakery. That was when proper etiquette turned to verbal jabs and barbs between the mother-daughter pair, and ended in fork fencing matches above the sweets, Gillen and his father cheering them on. I regretted inadvertently causing what looked like a semi-regular recurring conflict, but a small part of me was glad that they felt comfortable enough around me to show me their normal selves.

I also finally met GIllen and Ennin’s father, Ganturo. He usually took hunting and combat jobs, as he was a certified tier-two combatant. He even showed me his Society card, and the little 2 next to the sword was inspiring. He was all too eager to regale me with stories of his battles, until Gillen spilled the beans about my supposedly being from a village.

Then Gan, as he insisted on being called, bombarded me with questions about the living conditions there, and how I was adjusting to city life. I was reminded that his older brother had settled down in a village a few years ago, after being injured on a job. Gan was familiar with the pros and cons of village life, having visited his brother’s village house, and I did my best to pretend like I just wanted to put my ‘pitiful’ past behind me, dodging as many questions as I could.

The adults were shocked when I told them about my plan to enroll in the academy. Evelyn had heard plenty of unsavory rumors about how commoners were treated, and Gillen seconded his wife’s opinions, citing multiple ‘accidents’ he had seen between two students on the academy’s training grounds. That was when I learned he sometimes instructed students there when there were no other jobs available.

I was put off by what I heard, but I was still resolute in my goal of enrolling. They wished me luck with strained smiles on their faces whenever I mentioned it.

Visiting their house managed to insert some semblance of socializing into the slog of work that my life had recently become. I never really made friends with other people while I was working.

The guards who bashed me with their weapons and the healers who fixed me up were too preoccupied with their duties to even attempt befriending me. The pet store employees were friendly enough, but my mind was tempestuous when I was at that store, handing over animals to be sold.

And I counted myself fortunate that I never befriended the city lord, who was the owner of the cemetery and the highest ranking noble in the city. Befriending him, or even attempting to, would probably see me fined or jailed for audacity or shamelessness, or socially leeching off him.

I was never lonely in my quest to get money, surrounded as I was by coworkers and beasts, but I felt alone. And dispelling that feeling, even if it cost me an hour or two, despite my tight budget, was priceless.

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My first winter here was less brutal than I was used to. I had been expecting endless snowfall, or maybe an endless downpour of freezing rain, but I was wrong on both counts. Winter almost felt like an extension of autumn, just with more wind and less sun. I couldn’t tell if the days were getting shorter or not, but according to the timepieces, the difference would be insignificant if there even was one.

They had sundials here. Sundials.

Granted, the most accurate ones had a magical component to them, but the fact that sundials were a thing here floored me. I was excited for a minute, until I stopped and thought about it.

I knew that despite something from my world showing up here, it didn’t mean someone else from Earth had been here before me. It was possible for the same idea to occur to different people. Didn’t Newton and Leibniz both discover calculus around the same time?

So while the temptation to believe someone else from Earth had been here was strong, I looked at the evidence and decided…I was better off not knowing. I could tell that if I went down that theoretical rabbit hole chasing the truth, I probably wouldn’t find any answers. And even if I did, it wouldn’t change anything about my situation.

So, in a maddeningly familiar mental action, I put the issue aside and looked for more tasks to do.

Only, the availability of tasks dried up. The usual slugfest that occurred every morning in the Workman’s Society was nowhere to be found, as winter reared its cold and windy head. According to the Society workers, winter was the least busy time for them, as most things just….got done.

People finished up what they needed to do earlier in the year, and barring any emergencies or unexpected situations, anything that needed to be handled was taken care of without external help, e.g. me and the other workmen. I didn’t know if this was something unique to Khobadaar or not, but I didn’t like it. How can you just not have any work that needs doing?

And while the people here may have been used to it, I wasn’t. I needed something to do to earn money for the academy fees. And with no tasks being posted, I was short on money-making opportunities. Even my three standbys were less active than usual.

The guards were consolidating a training regimen for the recruits, as were their healers. The cemetery saw less activity than usual, as people didn’t travel much or go out at all due to winter’s arrival, leading to less deaths. And while the pet store was always on the prowl for marketable animals and creatures, the beings in question were hidden away, maybe hibernating, or migrating.

All of which put a damper on my plans to get the coins I needed.

In desperation, I asked Ennin whether there were any tasks that needed to be done. “Are you absolutely sure there’s nothing left?”

She looked up at me from her seat behind the counter in the Society building, shaking her head. “There’s nothing, Rhaaj. I know you need the coin, but there really is nothing. Unless…you want to assist the healers again?” She asked.

“No thanks, I learned my lesson the last time.” I snorted and vehemently shook my head.

“Then there’s really nothing I can do. Unless…just how desperate are you?” She asked me leadingly.

“Why? Wait…are you telling me that there is actually something worse than being cut up for money?” I asked her, surprise evident in my tone.

“That depends on your definition of worse. There’s plenty of old and widowed people that are willing to pay for, ahem, how do I say this politely ...companionship.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows, a slight smile on her face.

“You’re joking. Aren’t there, you know, places, for that kind of thing?” I hadn’t seen any of those types of services being offered anywhere in the city, but I wasn’t exactly looking, being a bit preoccupied with my mad scramble for cash.

“Maybe in tier two or tier one cities, but here? Here, things are a bit more…direct, shall we say. I’ve heard whispers that the city lord is looking to set up an establishment like that, but until he does, we’ve got to do things by ourselves. So, are you interested?” Ennin asked me, smiling all the time.

I was desperate…but not that desperate. But it did pave the way for a different train of thought, which I asked about to Ennin.

“So, seeing as there aren’t official tasks for that sort of thing, are there any other tasks in a similar category? Something for the desperate and money-chasers?”

“Hahaha, ahh, driven as always, aren’t you? Well, there is one task, but I’m warning you now: no matter how you look at it, this is just as bad as helping out the healers. Maybe worse……you’re going to do it regardless of what I say it is, aren’t you?” she said flatly, staring me down.

“No I’m not! Well, maybe, but I was at least gonna hear you out first.” I defended myself, if somewhat lamely.

“Of course,” she said, sighing and shaking her head in defeat. “Well, the good news is it’s an ongoing task, so you can do it every day, if you think you’re able to. The bad news? The work is dangerous, as in deadly. I’m not joking, Rhaaj. You seriously might die if you’re not careful with this one. At least with the healers you’re not far from them in case of an accident.” Her voice got more and more stern with each sentence, highlighting the importance of what she was saying.

“I’ll be fine, Ennin. Just give it to me.” I said.

She handed me a small slip of paper the size of my hand, as opposed to the full sheets of paper that the tasks were normally written on. I looked at the writing and was confused. How was this considered deadly? Sure it was disgusting, but what, would the smell kill me?

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I fell to the ground on my hands and knees, the handcart tilting back with its full weight. I didn’t want to touch the ground more than necessary considering what was on it, but I needed a minute to catch my breath.

The task on the slip of paper said that I would be doing maintenance and upkeep on the commoner’s bathhouse.

In reality, I was shoveling and transporting human waste from the bathhouse receptacle to the farm outside the city.

It turned out that the magical white line that cleaned everything and everyone in the baths didn’t eliminate the waste, it just pushed it downwards into a storage tank. And me and six other unfortunate souls had the privilege of moving all of it, bit by bit, into handcarts, and dragging those carts through magically created tunnels that ran beneath the city into the giant megafarm adjacent to the city’s north wall.

When I saw what the task was, I made preparations by dumping a cup of juice from the inn onto a rag and tying it around my face, covering my nose and mouth. I also bought a cheap pair of gloves and made sure to minimize the amount of open skin. Regardless of how I looked, I wanted to minimize my chances of infection as much as possible.

Ennin wasn’t kidding when she said the work would be dangerous. There was waste everywhere, making hygiene an impossible luxury, and the tunnels were crumbling in places, overdue for whatever magic needed to be done to re-harden and solidify them. Moreover, the tunnel connecting the bathhouse and the farm was uneven ground, bumps and divots constantly getting in the way.

But the real killer was the tunnel itself. Sometimes, someone would step on a bad patch of dirt, breaking their leg or ankle. If that happened, we would try to carry them either to the bathhouse or the farm, depending on which was closer, and let them wait for a healer. It was also possible to slip and fall, and land with the contents of the handcart falling on you. But the worst was when the walls collapsed out of nowhere.

The guys and I were on our last run from the bathhouse to the farm, our carts full, save for the one guy who had gotten injured and was sitting it out, waiting for a healer to arrive. We were still mindful of the tunnel’s conditions. But being mindful doesn’t help much when a section of the wall collapses on you without warning.

I was in the middle of the tunnel, and emerged relatively unscathed, just a few smaller pieces of rocks and dirt that fell on me. But two of our number were under the collapsed section. We tried to dig them out, scrabbling with our hands and shovels, but it was pointless.

They died from the impact, or at least that’s what it looked like. Their bodies were mangled, compared to what they looked like before. All of us sat there for a bit, the smell of shit and piss surrounding us, the smell of juice long gone and replaced by sweat and other smells.

We finished the job, then left the bodies there. The bathhouse staff would move the bodies to the cemetery and inform the families of the deceased.

I got my reward: one triangle. And it felt bitter to me. If there was a risk of death or danger, shouldn’t the pay be better? Hell, two people died! If the task was known to be deadly, then why the fuck was the reward so low? Above the injustice I was feeling for myself, I felt equally bad for the guys who died and their families. They sure as shit died on unfair terms, and if anyone could attest to that, it would be me.

It crossed my bottom line. And, despite my nature, a tiny flame of anger began growing on its own inside me, pushing me to take action.

I wanted to punish the person responsible.

I asked Ennin who owned the bathhouse, and why the task paid so little for what seemed to be something commonly known as dangerous. She said it was owned by the city lord, and it was a public service, hence the low prices. She also said that others had complained about the pay, but nothing ever happened as a result.

I wouldn’t, no, I couldn’t let this go.

I asked her if she knew how to get in touch with the city lord, or any nobles in general. She advised me against complaining, saying that it would bring me trouble if I did.

In the end, she gave in, after hearing my argument for needing to see it through. She told me her tutor was a noblewoman, and she knew the address of her estate. She would write a letter of introduction, and the rest would be up to me.

I met the noblewoman the very next day, after a good and thorough bathing session. Dressed as formally as possible, wanting to leave a good impression, I went to the estate of Countess Ryfellin, Ennin’s introductory letter in a side pocket within my cloak.

After being shown in by a servant, I came face to face with Ennin’s tutor, the countess. She read the letter I presented her with amusement, then asked me what my business was with her.

I told her everything that happened the previous day, including the deaths and my private thoughts on the matter, as well as a guess that I had. To show my sincerity and seriousness, I kneeled and saluted her the way I had seen the guards saluting the city lord, whenever he deigned to visit us with his presence. My anger outweighed any pride I might have had.

She laughed at my attempt at etiquette, but took my words more seriously.

“You may stand, boy. Oh, fetch some tea for us, will you, Frieda dear?” The lady asked, her maidservant rushing off.

I stood awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. Thankfully, the tea arrived soon, and I was saved by the distraction. The countess was busy mixing her tea just so, and after taking a sip, she finally put me at ease.

“Now, boy, I don’t doubt your…commitment…to this issue. But I am skeptical of your speculations, as you put it. It may very well be that you are correct, in which case, I must ask you. Why do you believe your unfounded claims are true? Asserting this theory of yours would make you an enemy of a noble, which, while not a crime, might see you shunned from more than a few social circles. Are you so sure of your own, as you’ve admitted yourself, guesses, that you would commit to this course?” she asked.

“I am,” I replied instantly, without hesitation.

There were a few consequences I cared about, but only one took priority.

“If I, or you, I suppose, pursue this, will it affect my joining the academy in any way?” I asked her.

“No, silly boy! Haha, the academy may be the playground for those noble brats, but the staff don’t care a whit about politics, at most they make sure that no unexpected heirs pop up within their walls,” the countess replied.

“Then I don’t care. Let the dice fall as they will. I doubt nobles are fighting over the chance to introduce themselves to a mere commoner,” I said, gesturing to myself. “As long as the one responsible is punished, that’s enough for me…my lady,” I said nervously.

“Oh, darling, you’re in dire need of a tutor yourself, though I suppose that is the impetus for all this, isn’t it?” She took another sip of her tea, savoring the flavor. It may have been bad manners for me not to drink as well, but I honestly didn’t care. Then again, this woman was a potential ally in an uphill struggle I was endeavoring on. I blew on the tea, then took a small sip of it, tasting berries.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Lady Ryfellin asked with a faint smile on her face at my expression.

“In any case, your theory does have some merit to it, so I can ensure that the city lord hears of it. But, you realize you are asking for a favor from a noble? Did that girl tell you nothing of her studies?” I heard her ask me.

“...Ennin? No, she only told me that getting involved with nobles would bring me trouble.” I said, unsure how Ennin suddenly became relevant.

“That girl, always boiling things down to their simplest,” the lady said, shaking her head. “But, no matter. Let me give you a free lesson on noble conduct, then. Asking for a favor from me puts you in my debt, little one. Repaying this debt, well, it would be rather crude of me to do so now, but rest assured, I will collect on this debt in the future. I may need you to procure a magical item for me, or perhaps your knowledge or expertise will be useful in one of my businesses.”

“But this debt will be honored, little one. To the best of your ability when I call for you. Do you agree to these terms?” She asked me.

I could hear the weight her words were meant to have, but honestly? This was one loan I was perfectly fine with. Doing the right thing now and making a connection with a noble lady? Perhaps a long and prosperous business relationship ensuing as a result?

The countess Ryfellin may have been superior to me in etiquette, but at the end of the day, I would be profiting more than she would. And sure as shit, I’d be profiting more than a certain noble bastard, if my suspicions were right.

Only time would tell if I was proven right or a pariah.