Nagrij
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Soul Fire Sale, chapter 10.
🕑 Added 2025-06-10 23:01:11 +0000 UTCSo, here we are. Post number one, and isn't that weird? I did not expect this one to get more popular than the 'in Hell' series. It's fine though, I like it too. Please enjoy.
I had wanted to sleep for a week... but it didn't happen. Instead, I came to, huddled in blankets and with something next to me. Something hard but soft, that had appendages around me.
Loam was spooning. I was sure I'd given her the order to guard me before I fell asleep, but here she was, in bed, her arms wrapped around me. The bed that was creaking alarmingly as I moved because of course it was.
"Loam, let go and get up."
She released her hold immediately and rolled smoothly to the floor on the opposite side of me, which was good since she was made of hundreds of pounds of clay. The very sturdy bed gave one last groan that almost sounded like the last gasp of a dying man before blessed silence. Thankfully, it did not collapse.
For my part, I also rolled out, just in case. Wait, was that a flash of disappointment on my golem's face?
Whatever it was, it was there and gone in an instant; my creation was back to showing no emotion at all.
My internal clock pointed to the time being late afternoon, the day almost done. It made sense that I'd slept this long; I'd done a massive amount of work last night on no sleep. One might even say, the lion's share of the work, though Oliver had pulled his weight if levels were considered.
I didn't intend to consider levels of course, because that wasn't how friendships were made. Friendships were made on the foundation of shared shit, where two people tried to give each other as much grief as possible without being truly offensive. I would accept no less.
Oliver was not in the kitchen, but there was a meal here, on the table, and it was still steaming. I whipped the cloth cover off to behold a portion of meat that looked like pork, something that looked like mashed potatoes, and something that looked like cabbage on the side. A nice hearty meal by all accounts, and I wouldn't let it go to waste; if it was meant for someone else, too bad for them. They weren't here to object.
I sat down and looked out the window. Oliver was outside, sitting down next to the mayor on his porch across the street. They were both clearly talking to each other, and Oliver was smiling, so my worries of the morning were unfounded.
Loam walked up, and I could swear I almost felt my golem's hesitance in her every line as she crept forward.
She hadn't hurt me, but what even was that? It was WEIRD.
At least she hadn't brought the sword to bed with us. Probably because I had the presence of mind to tell her to put it in the corner last night. Well, this morning. Whatever.
I wasn't going to let my golem ruin my... well, dinner. Nor would I let the mayor. I took my time and finished everything, and made sure to clean up after. No sense in adding extra work for anyone or walking around with crumbs or whatever else all over me.
I looked down with a frown. Good, I'd done good. Eating was a bit different recently; I found myself making sure crumbs didn't get... lost.
Yeah, no. That way led madness.
I was done, so it was time to face the music. "Loam, follow me."
I had to make sure she shut the door after she went through it. "Loam, shut the door gently."
Loam listened, and the door didn't even rattle on its' hinges. That was progress!
One of these days, I was going to have to look into exactly when and how the concepts of doors and closing them and all the other things Loam knew got planted into what passed for her head.
Someday - when I knew more about what I could do and my new self in general, and felt a bit more safe. Vaguely, I knew I'd need some time to upgrade to stone, iron, or even steel, but I shouldn't even start until I got more money and a secure place to work from. I couldn't half-ass it like I had for Loam.
I also needed to use loam as a learning experience; if she decided to go weird, I was sure I could still take her. At the very least, it'd be easier than trying to take on a rampaging stone or iron golem.
The mayor spotted us first, when I was a mere step out into the fading light, and I could see the color drain from the man. Even so, he kept a smile up. He did mop his head with a rag, though. It was not a hot day.
Oliver turned to see what had caught the mayor's attention, and his smile was genuine, lighting up his face in a way that would be hard to feign.
I paid no attention to the street emptying, nor to the two rather burly guys who spotted us and began their own slow walk in our direction. One was the hunter from last night, and the other looked like a soldier, or what passed for a soldier here. "Good afternoon."
The mayor struck first: "Good afternoon, lady Isobel. Your companion was just regaling me with tales of his misspent youth. I must say, he was quite the rascal when young."
I shot a glance at Oliver, who, if he was eighteen, I'd eat my new hat. "You might check your valuables then mayor; he does not seem past any days of youth."
Oliver snorted. "Shows what you know. I'm totally an adult now."
The mayor chuckled, the sound a little forced. "So, shall we discuss your foray into the forest last night?"
I sat down in the only empty chair left on the porch. That was fine; Loam wouldn't get tired. She was back to looking like she was carved from stone, and settled into some form of parade rest, her legs apart in a wide stance and her hands clasped in front of her.
"Sure, let's hear it. Starting with what those things were we encountered last night?"
"Those are... well, they were a type of ape, known as a dog ape. But those were undead."
The words he used were not ape or dog, but that was what the sounds became in my head. Which was interesting since the word for wolf had translated directly. Then again, what we'd seen last night was not a creature that existed on earth while wolves were, so that made some sense.
"It is troubling that they were so close to the village," The mayor continued. "such apes live mostly peacefully at the top of the mountain, which meant someone or something killed them, raised them from the dead, and brought them here... or that same entity killed them, raised them, and left them on their own. Then they came down here."
"Where the wolves warned you of them, likely because they encroached on their pack's territory."
The mayor cleared his throat awkwardly, then continued. I noted the two armed individuals get close enough to be able to attack, should they want to take the chance.
"Right, the wolves. Don't worry, we shall leave them alone. We misunderstood their intentions, clearly," the man mopped his forehead again, and there was sweat there. On a cool day. "For now, we'd like you to go up the mountain and see if you can find more of those apes, living or dead."
"We can do that tomorrow. I'm not against going." I would not be going out at night again, and it was too late to check today.
"That's fine, that's perfect even. I would not suggest going out at night with such creatures around," the mayor said, mopping again. "For now, there is a set price on the heads of those creatures you killed, so we will be paying it. Feel free to ask for anything you need or like, and let us know if we can do anything for you for as long as you stay."
He had to know this wouldn't be a thing; we wouldn't be staying here too long. We had a mandate from his very own king. This felt like nothing more than a con to convince us to stay here and solve their very local problems.
The mayor raised his voice and looked away. "So what say you, hunter Hervald? Are our environs free of threat?"
"They are," the man with the bow returned in a voice that sounded like stones raining down a mountainside. "Nothing but rabbits and birds. Even the wolves are gone, as the mage said."
He was looking at me as he said it, as if challenging me somehow. Maybe he thought I'd object because Oliver had told the story first? Who cared?
"So, like what kind of reward are we talking? I could use any coin to increase our effectiveness."
"Ten gold per head," The hunter replied, as the mayor mopped.
"Yes, that is the amount, backed by the treasury of the King himself."
I wasn't sure what that meant just yet, but usually in most settings like this, it was the ten rule; ten of one equaled one of the other. That would make ten gold per head a small fortune, considering most coins I'd seen exchanging hands had been copper ones.
"Well, I can think of a few things we might need. Clothes that fit us for starters. Winter clothes were the one thing the castle didn't offer us before they sent us questing. Food and drink, probably some camping supplies. Stuff like that."
The clothes would work just fine really, they were enchanted to stay clean and stay warm - but this was not my kind of fashion, and Loam hadn't even been alive then. I also want to see if I can figure out how to enchant things. Maybe Oliver knew; enchanting, according to what I knew, needed rare materials and time. Even so, just good warm clothes should do the job for now. Hopefully.
The man looked almost painfully relieved for a flash as he replied: "Of course. I will send our seamstress over later to take your measurements. It shall take some days to complete anything."
He was clearly happy to lock us down for a few days. I wonder what the King had told him as he galloped by. Time to press a bit. "Well, I'm glad to know it all worked out. For a moment there last night, I thought I would have to make a case against killing the wolves since you wanted those pelts."
The mayor mopped again. "Of course not. We are not so unreasonable, and we can always use other pelts."
"Glad to hear." The conversation lapsed, and that was for the best; it felt better this way. I could use some tea, though.
"Right, well, we will plan the next expedition and start tomorrow," Oliver said, getting up and shooting me weighted glances.
"Sure, fine. We could use some planning. It worked so well last time." A subtle dig there, just to see what I might dredge up.
Silence; no one took the bait. Instead, Oliver got up and stretched, so I followed suit. "See you all tomorrow."
"Yes, see you tomorrow," the mayor answered cheerfully, mopping his head again. The other two, hunter Hervold and the soldier, didn't say a word. I hadn't even learned the other man's name.
"Thanks for that. I was there talking to that man for hours. Then you came out and saved me."
"He's afraid of me. They all are." Not you Oliver, me.
"Yeah, and a good thing he is too. I think if he wasn't, that hunter would already be out tracking down the wolves and getting killed. They actually did want those shadow wolf pelts."
"Doesn't surprise me. There is probably a good market for them or something. They were offering a lot of gold for them."
I drew some water from the well; there was no line, of course, because no one was out on the street.
Behind us, the soldier strode up close to the table and took a stance much like Loam had before. The conversation was soft, but I could overhear it if I focused. There was no need for that yet, however.
I went inside first, which forced Oliver to stop and wait on Loam, who was already crowding him out. He didn't appear angry, but....
"Sorry."
"It's no big deal. Loam isn't mine after all. I should be thankful she hasn't resorted to violence. Though do be warned, I'm going to figure out the trick and make a Loam of my own! I wonder if they will cat fight over which of us goes first?"
Heh, that was an image. "Maybe. I'll share later, when we have breathing room. We aren't there yet; I do not trust any of these people farther than I can throw them."
This body had some muscle, but it was still slim. I couldn't throw a toddler - if I wanted to throw a toddler; child abuse wasn't something to do for fun or profit. Not that I'd even seen a toddler since coming here; they had to be keeping their children inside, or away from us at the very least.
"It's mutual," Oliver said, stopping again to stretch as we made it to the kitchen. "They seem to have no problem with me, but they don't trust you at all. I think they might have grabbed torches and pitchforks already if not for me. Well, no, not that bad. But they are clearly watching you, not both of us."
Interesting. The tea was where I left it, so I started making another batch. "What about you?"
Oliver held up his hand in response. "I don't really have a choice. Not if I want to be free. However, you had the chance to betray me and vanish already. You haven't yet, and even protected me a few times. So yes, I trust you."
I smiled. "That's all it takes? Wow, you were easy. When I take over the world, you'll be the first chained up in the dungeon."
"Sex dungeon, no doubt," Oliver returned with a smirk, not missing a beat. "But no, I'll trust actions over words. Either that or I'll go crazy."
That was all you could do, really. Though the idea of becoming an isolated hermit was beginning to appeal more and more.
"You wish. You're going to end up a monk here. You will pioneer the term 'incel' to these people."
Oliver winced. "Ouch. Let's not be hasty. I just need to hit my stride a bit, is all. Get to a city and lose myself among the crowds. So, clothes?"
"You might be happy wearing one set, but I'd rather have a few more, and I'd rather not be wearing what amounts to a cocktail dress all winter. It just doesn't feel right."
Oliver cupped his chin with a hand. "Yeah, I get that. I've been very lucky in that regard since robes seem to be one of the norms here. But I won't say no to pants and a shirt. But what I was wondering was, how are we going to carry all that? We are pretty burdened now."
That was silly; the average human could carry a field pack that weighed almost as much as they did, and we weren't even close to that. But I had a ready answer. "Loam, of course. Get her a backpack, and she can carry pretty much whatever we might need. The only reason she hasn't been carrying my gear now is because I didn't want to impede an arm. But with this village's professionals behind us, I'm sure a solution to that can be found."
Anything that didn't involve her carrying a burlap sack would be better than we had now.
"I mean that works. I was thinking I'd be levitating everything everywhere. That puts a strain on me after awhile, believe it or not."
I waved him off. "Nah, I wouldn't do that to you. We need to preserve mana whenever possible."
"I also get the other thing. I don't really trust the people here either; if we set up here, not only would we not be seeing enough of the world, we wouldn't be doing what the King wanted of us, and I'm certain we can find a better place to hole up."
Yeah. "I'm thinking we find a nice half ruined tower in the middle of a forest somewhere. something like that. Maybe some place close to a city but not in it. Some place we can set up a workshop and explore our abilities without fear of blowing something important up while having plenty of warning from angry mobs."
Oliver nodded, getting up to make his own tea. "Sounds good to me. A little middle school tree fort, but I'm not against it."
He wasn't wrong. I'd have to watch that. "You're not wrong. But I'm already sick of all the eyes on us. That and all the avoidance."
I was not a terrorist. I hadn't snapped and killed anyone yet, despite some very clear provocations. I was certain that even actual killers weren't treated like this here.
"I get that; trust me, I'm with you. I don't want to deal with these people either."
Right, I was belaboring the point. Another thing I needed to watch. "Right. So, immediate plans? I thought maybe you could look into enchanting. I don't really have any spells of traditionally of that class. Do you?"
I had some spells that could buff or enchant things, like staves and some potions, even beyond what my alchemy could produce, but as far as the 'Dungeons and Dragons' style making magic items, I had nothing.
But a mage should have all of it.
Oliver shook his head. "It's a path I've got, but not one I have any spells from just yet. Or at least, not anything I can apply permanently. A few levels from the system, and I might be able to manage some of the weaker stuff. A good ten levels, maybe even more, to do what you're asking."
Hmm. "Those who came before us were pretty amazing then."
I was sure I could learn the spells myself. So long as I had a teacher. Oliver would be a convenient one, but I had to be patient, I guess. It was almost certain that asking someone else, especially someone from this world, would be risky in the extreme. It was clear to me already that people here had solid ideas on what witches should and should not know.
Or maybe I was being super paranoid again. That could be a thing.
We sat and sipped. Loam stared at me.
Hmm. "Would you like some tea, Loam?"
A flash of something across my golem's face, so quick that if I wasn't looking for it, I wouldn't have seen it. Then Loam nodded.
I didn't need to worry about Loam burning her hands or throat; I made her a cup and brought it over; she took it carefully.
That was a look I could read; clear joy. Loam, my golem, was feeling joy as she sipped. In the back of my mind, something stirred.
Then just like that, her face smoothed. Was there a connection between us? An active connection? Was that what was going on here? holy shit, that's... wow.
I locked up the idea of destroying Loam into my strongest mental box and threw away the key. There might be a chance she could read it, and so far, she hadn't hurt me.
I'd known all along that Loam had been reading my intentions somehow; now I knew how. Well, now I had a theory on how; there was nothing certain yet. How deep did the connection go, assuming it was there? Was it both ways? Should I try and investigate that?
"You okay?"
Oliver's question snapped me out of it. "Just peachy. I think I've figured out the answer to something that's been bugging me for days. It's always nice when that happens."
"Anything you can share? You got me curious now."
"Not until I'm sure," I answered him. "I'd hate to lie accidentally."
Oliver shrugged. "Fair enough. Just let me know once you're sure. I'd like to know how Loam works too."
"Yeah, I'll take the time to teach you once we find our tower."
All through this conversation, Loam had stood and sipped - but her eyes had darted between us as if she were watching a particularly intense tennis match. Now she looked down, and that same look of clear disappointment flashed by.
"What is it, Loam? You're out of tea?" She had to be.
My golem looked to the tea cup again and nodded. I levered myself up and poured another for her. She could probably pour her own, but I wanted to avoid any accidents.
Oliver gaped. "She smiled! I could swear she smiled!"
"Yeah, she's been doing that." Started today, but she had been doing it. Facial expressions would help in understanding what Loam was thinking. Or even if she was thinking; I still wasn't one hundred percent convinced.
Whatever, enough of summoned minions and how to raise them. What else could we stretch?
"Want to compare spell lists? We've got pens, we've got paper, We possibly share a language..."
"Sure. Pass some over, and let's compare some lists. At least until the seamstress or tailor or whoever gets here." Oliver got up to grab a pen.
Comments
Nagrij
Thank you very much for the post; this feedback is helpful. As I said before, it is nice to know when you're properly cooking, but it is even better to know how. I'll try my best to keep the magic in.
SingularCurve
This story has a little bit of everything. The intrigue of why the heroes were summoned. Whats up with Loam and her becoming more than just a golem. Whats at the top of the mountain. Why are the people all suspicious of a Witch. Why did our girl start at the level she did, and why thats out of the norm especially since Oliver was only level 5? On top of that the dialog is catchy and doesnt share too much or too little. The travel is wonderful, the scenery divine, the world has big and small questions I want answers to. All the hallmarks of a great story. I cant speak for others, but this story just grabbed me and dragged me into it. Im invested in ways I didnt know I needed to be. I look forward to this story almost as much as I look forward to any new chapter of the Whateley story you write. Though I love "in hell" and your other stories here too. All a little different. All straddling lines. All entertaining in their own ways.
Nagrij
Glad to see it. Maybe the next one, which is a similar trope in my humble opinion, will also hit. When I write it... eventually.
StarLight
Really enjoying this story. Most interesting one I've read in a long time.
