The foreigner headed away from that small plaza within which her…now former employment facility was…located, moving down the streets of this celebratory city with a strange calm silence. Yet all around… Cheers and crowds, alien dances upon platforms and podiums, parading objects and raining confetti… Festive lamps and candles dotted around, some even floating up like balloons in the sky, carrying wishes, regrets, hopes, and dreams along the winds that blew through time’s stream.
Indeed, Coastfield was ignited in light and glory, far more so than she could remember seeing priorly… Although, this city had certainly been as ignited and noisy before; these celebratory days were not uncommon. Nevertheless, this holiday in particular felt far more overwhelming than any before.
The roads and paths ahead, at least, were as clear as day to see. And not just because all around was flaring with the light of festive delight. For the clouds once obscuring above had dissipated, unshackling the moon which unleashed its light upon the world below.
The moon of this place was rather peculiar; it was not an empty dead rock in the cosmos above—it hardly appeared as a rock at all. It appeared more as if it were a vibrantly bright puffball of cloudy haze. For, indeed, the moon had an atmosphere, one that was quite thick and almost all-consuming; one that was white and highly reflective. So bright this moon was, that shadows could already be cast amidst night’s darkness; so bright this moon could become during the grandest of full-moons, the night sky was less black and more tinted a dark nightly blue.
However, the moon was not the only thing to have been freed from the cloud’s obscurence, for the foreigner could also feel…the piercing glares of the stars.
She hardly ever looked up whenever the stars clawed their way out from the blue-sky’s shadow; during night, she always tended to keep her head down as much as possible. She detested nothing greater than those very stars up high; that cold abyss of endless eyes that stared down with such utter indifference and contempt; an eternal reminder of how utterly beneath them she was; that eternal reminder of how meaningless everything she had ever done, everything they had ever done, truly was…and always would be.
The foreigner looked around, however, seeing the denizens about. Their cheers, their smiles, their laughs and joys. Yet some were also sad, she could see; some were weeping and lamenting, others angry and shouting. And she saw not only grown and matured denizens, but also younger ones too… Children, right… She could not remember the last time she had observed such, frankly.
So many noises, so many doings, so many denizens of all types and developmental stages… Yet she could not understand them; the world their minds existed in and the reality that haunted them, the truth behind naivety’s shroud. They were as alien to her as she was alien to them.
Many strange feelings entered her mind and being, yet she could not comprehend any of them. She merely sighed and continued making way. Her mind hollowed as her affect emptied, no longer with any thought or cogitation besides one fixated priority: going ‘home’… She no longer attended to any of the denizens and their endless doings, their ceaseless noises which stabbed her so.
-||-
Exposed cyanic ignited eyes stared up at the ceiling above… She was in bed, having not been able to bother taking off her attire; she simply laid there, staring up with eyes hollow… Unaffected and flat affect. Yet within this flatness, things were still turning, moving within that shell unhollow; she could not comprehend, of course, what was so turning within the deepest shadows of her mind.
She was tired, less in body and more in heart; yet her eyes remained open, unable to rest. Her mind remained trapped by its own shadow; contemplating, reflecting to a degree, realizing…her newfound situation.
The foreigner sighed; ? Qua de causad…nunqu’audjont? Omnid tempore…éd evenit… ? She had issued that denizen…three warnings and reacted accordingly to her…regulations and protocols. She was not…trying to hurt that denizen; it was not her intention, it just…
Though, none of that mattered in eyes of the effect. The reality was, she did severely hurt that man. In retrospect, she could identify many alternative methods with which she could have responded to that situation, yet she had gone with the bluntest of them all…and ultimately demonstrated a total disregard for his wellbeing and the potential of severe injury in her response—a violation of those very regulations.
And now those raspy groans and…breaths were stuck in her head, playing on repeat over and over, refusing to leave.
All…he had to do was just…listen to her… Why did they never listen? Why did they always do this? This happened…all the time, ugh.
No doubt, had her former associate been there, she would have had handled that situation far better than the foreigner herself did. Her former associate had not merely pretended to be a denizen, for she had understood their delusions of reality and their endless abstractions; she had been one of them in far more ways than the foreigner herself was and…could be.
Things…indeed, certainly felt more difficult in her former associate’s absence, without her endless drillings and remindings…and such… However, difficulty did not imply impossibility.
Indeed, regardless… ? Quid evenitù, evenjít. ? What happened, happened. The past was unchangeable; the future was shrouded; the present was all she needed to prioritize. And in the immediate present, she was now without a ‘job’ and thus was without ‘income’ with which to pay her ‘rent’.
Under ordinary circumstances, she would have no problem with such a reality; she had no problem with simply returning to her prior strategy of survival: remaining entrenched and holding out… Though, for what? The operation…failed; she was likely…the only one left… Why…was she…the only one left? Why was she…always the only one left? Indeed… It really could have…finally been the end for her… It really…could have been…
Such thoughts terminated in mind quickly, as a strange hollowness enforced its hold.
Regardless, compared to her prior strategy, this strategy of playing pretend and biding time…worked; thus, best to maintain this course. Besides… The foreigner looked around a little… This apartment… It had things of importance to her former associate; things she had held onto; things she had not been able to let go of.
Although the foreigner herself could not comprehend the whys and reasons, she did respect her former associate and thus respected the things she had respected. It was her obligation, the foreigner…felt, out of respect for all that which her former associate had done for her, to at least ensure their…care.
And seeing that she was without ‘employment’, her next objective thus would be to secure a new reliable source of coin with which to pay this apartment’s rent and consequently retain ‘ownership’ of her former associate’s belongings and such.
Those two golds she had obtained recently should be enough to cover this month’s rent due as well as the next month’s; however, each month seemed to see a rise… Indeed, although she had the time, she nevertheless wanted to complete this task quickly.
With the plan of action decided, her eyes finally closed; slumber’s obscurity quickly took hold.
-|||-
It was a new day; the third to be precise of this new year. The sun began its rise as night’s twilight faded away. The denizens of Coastfield awoke, as they had before, to do their many doings… Yet… They were slow; slower to get out of bed; slower to move; slower in…all ways, practically, and riddled with hanging mindaches.
So began a so-called ‘slow day’ which always followed any day of festive celebrations and divinely ordained glorification. However, in this changing era, such were no excuses. There was an ever-modernizing economy to be run, and streets and…pavement and…everything, practically, needing to be cleaned and cleared.
Thus, slow or not, the denizens got out of bed and did their doings. The sun rose higher as morning progressed, Coastfield returning to normalcy, noise and ruckus bouncing about…
Before, finally, ignited eyes sprung open.
? … ? The foreigner could already tell from the lighting within this bedroom…that it was well late in the morning. She promptly stumbled herself up, peering around, rubbing her baggy and always-exhausted eyes… She felt even more like death, her mind achy and numbed… She had slept far too much, it seemed…
Truly, the absurdity: sleep too little, feel like death; sleep too much, feel like death; there was no victory to be found in such an endeavor.
Nevertheless, she got out of her bed and quickly began to ready herself; having slept in her clothing, she was mostly prepared already. Yet, looking in that mirror, she saw… Her hair was messy; truly, she was not used to it being…this long. Her attire, likewise, was wrinkly…
Meh… Yet she stared with total indifference. She no longer saw any point in fixing any of this; she had observed denizens strolling about in far worse conditions, albeit… Right, those types always seemed to receive scornful judging eyes.
Indeed… Appearances, daily habits, and conformity to the expected behavioral patterns and normative abstractions around, such were all necessary to blend in and appear ‘normal’, for ‘normalcy’ was only ever prescribed by the perceptions of others around.
Thus, although there was no point in fixing her hair or tidying herself up, there was, likewise, no point in not doing any of that and…risking unnecessary challenges; thus, she might as well fix herself up and…appear ‘presentable’… Especially considering the task ahead, this so-called ‘job-searching’.
This should not be too difficult, she surmised. Considering the burgeoning of this settlement, there had to be plenty of places in need of some kind of…assistance or hand.
-||-
“Sorry, lady… Don’t got room for anymore. We’re already fully staffed as is… Best try somewhere else” thus stated a tavernkeeper—a different one of a different tavern.
The foreigner sighed… “…it is understood; I take the leave, now…” replying cordially yet somewhat lowly, she respectfully bowed before stepping away.
“But, I do wish you Fortune’s luck, lady… Not many opportunities for girls these days, frankly” that tavernkeeper’s voice echoed in goodbye, to which she simply nodded in reply.
She exited back to the city beyond and full of noise, her donned affect…immediately flattening.
? Phí. ? Ugh… The foreigner had spent hours rummaging around this primitive settlement, scouring tavern after tavern throughout the sprawling abyss that was Coastfield’s outer-city, only to continuously to be met with the same exact problem: none of them were interested in hiring. Either because they were ‘at capacity’ or because they had some…arbitrary reason to not hire her specifically, usually due to her ‘funny accent’ and or ‘Far Westernness’—whatever that was even supposed to mean.
Truly, she had no prior awareness of how beneficial it was that her former associate had ‘vouched’ for her and effectively provided her that job with little effort… She had taken even that job for granted, it seemed… She did not realize it would be so hard…to even acquire a basic role and task within this social apparatus. One would think that the denizens would be eager to accept anyone willing to contribute, but seemingly not at all.
The foreigner was aimlessly strolling, though paused and…peered around, scanning her environment. Hmm… Many other facilities of ‘commerce’ and ‘industry’ were also rather evident… So far, she had been exclusively targeting facilities similar to that at which she was previously employed…
She might as well expand and broaden her scope… There were other so-called ‘opportunities’ beyond simply taverneering, after all, even if…such was more familiar than not.
-||-
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“You?! Gods’ sacred what?! Buehahaha!” so broke out into laughter…a ‘workshop’ owner of sorts, seated upon a simple primitive desk within a simple room of sorts; “That’s hilarious, woman! I thought you were came here asking for your hubby or lover or boyfriend or whoever of fuckings! But, but…you?? You want the job? That’s hysterical!”
? … ? The foreigner failed to identify the ‘humor’. “The sign outside said that you are hiring all of the hands…”
The workshop owner’s laughs did not relent; “Sure! The sign might’ve said that, but that didn’t mean women! This is a workshop, lady, not a laundry! We work with wood, saws, and sweat; this is a man’s job!” His voice was condescending. “Only exception I’d ever make would be for ex-adventurers and freelancers, and you don’t seem to be any of that, shorty”.
“Freelancers?” the foreigner titled her head… She had heard that word before, yet…
“Yeah. Freelancers. Those girly spellcasters; they’re actually useful and don’t just stand there wasting my time with their pretty looks and nagging questions” the workshop owner thus said, his voice no longer as humored; “Now, with respect, please stop wasting my time. I’ve got an economy to build here, woman!”
The foreigner sighed with a slight tsk… “Rightly… I give the apologies for taking the time…” she apologized though did not bow; she departed with haste, stepping out into the city beyond once again.
? Phí. Iterù, ?e iterù… ? Ugh… This again. Hours of searching, yet even with this broaden scope, she only ran into a new apparent abstracted reason that seemingly disqualified her from dozens of so-called ‘professions’… That being, of course, her very humiform.
And if not her humiform directly, then her ‘qualifications’ and ‘apparent skills’ and such and such…even for the simplest and most mundane duties. ‘Such a task was simply not becoming of a docile normal lady’, so she had often heard… Indeed, such ultimately sprung right back to her biological form; truly, that had to be the most asinine of all…anythings across this universe and all other universes.
The foreigner sighed, stabilizing within… The sun was well making way towards the horizon; the day was ending… She was… She scanned around… Somewhere within this…settlement; she had gone much deeper than she usually would.
Hmm… She began to cogitate… She was still well within the outskirts of this large sprawling city, having been…moving in more of a circle around than inwards… There was still so much left to cover; so many other potential locations and facilities beyond simply workshops.
However, for now, she needed to wend way for home…before the sun set completely, considering she was rather…lost. Nevertheless, she will try again tomorrow…and overmorrow and…even overovermorrow, until something is found. Surely, there had to be something willing to grant her a chance?
“Huh? What, seriously? Lady, this job requires counting and maths, and I know you sheltered Far West girls are stupider than an orc! “
-|-
“BUAHAHAHA! This is too funny! Woman, unless you are willing to sell me that nice body of yours, I ain’t hiring you for Demon-shit!”
-||-
“Unless you are a freelancer or a survivor of Graillight—Heaven’s warmful touch be to their souls—then, sorry, gal: not interested in whatever you have to offer.”
-|||-
“PFFFT, you know, I prefer to have employees who don’t need to take time off every month because of Fertility’s curse!”
-||||-
“Oh great, a spoiled Company gal no doubt! What’s with the fancy mask, anyway? Your Company daddy kick ya out, forcing you to be a fancy tavern whore, huh?”
-|||||-
“Sorry ma’am, I have reasons to be skeptical of Far Western ladies. New World colonial you may be, but…the women of our lands tend to be more… Well, to say…skilled and determined—a seeable fact I trust far more than your assurances.”
-||||||-
“Women, the only jobs you have available to you unless you are a freelancer are being a tavern wench or a whore on the street, beha! I mean, sure, there’s the Guild but good luck with that dying relic! You aren’t even a fighter or warrior at all, just look at you! You’re better off using your looks and sweet charms to find a husband!”
-||||||||||||||||-
Time…
Days…
How many days had it been?
She knew not, having long lost track; all she knew was that she had spent practical eons in this see of ceaseless time in a cyclic repeat over and over, only to be met with the same response over and over on equal repeat.
She was a ‘woman’; she was ‘Far Western’; she was ‘short’; she was something or something else or something both… If not one thing, it was another thing; if not that other thing, it was that one thing.
Ugh. ‘Short’ most especially was absurd. She was not even that ‘short’! For her standards and that of those like her, she was well within standard—almost quite literally at standard, in fact… Her height being ~0.99915 standard height units (~5 feet 5.944 inches; ~167.496744 centimeters), with only ~0.00085 height units below standard.
Nevertheless, for the standards of these lands, both her and Far Westerners generally tended to be considered ‘short’, even if the height difference was not even that profound…
Exhaling aloud, the foreigner looked around… She had no idea where she even was anymore… It was all the same denizen buildings of denizens and more…buildings. This accursed city was a maze so hard to navigate. So disgustingly large, indeed, this denizen-infested locality was, that she had yet to even completely scour the totality of the outer-city. Though, even if she were to venture past the inner-walls and into the interior heart of Coastfield, she predicted she would merely be met with the same exact response.
She sighed for the nth time this day; this week; this month… Denizens and their endless stupid abstractions… So stupid all of this was, to see the likes of her reduced to this… To be so subsumed by something as absurd and nonsensical as ‘rent’…
Ugh. Truly, would that she had a synthesizer to simply make these silver and gold trinket ‘coins’ herself… Oh, but then if she were to produce too much, suddenly the value of these trinkets would collapse even though the value itself was prescribed by the denizens themselves! Neither real nor objective, simply a made-up abstraction of their over-running imaginations and minds! Ugh…
Despite the things befalling within, her own conditionings and the myriad of encoded protocols within her very essence…kept herself collected, focused, and calm… Inhibited and detached, indeed; emotions ever obscured, even to herself.
The foreigner headed way down the street ahead, having remembered the convoluted route she had taken. Regardless of the tediousness, she had paid this month’s due rent the day before—which ended up being one gold and twenty-five silvers. Thus, she now had this full month to continue…figuring things out before the next due. Truly, she could not help but reconsider…everything, though…only to meet the same conclusion: what else was she going to do, stranded here alone?
Yet, as such thoughts entered mind, abruptly the foreigner noticed…standing near some sort of decorative column commemorating some event of local significance…two armored persons.
Their intermediate plated armor was distinct; their chest-piece was painted, emblazoned with the ‘heraldic device’ of the County of Coastfield, with their heavy tunic donned underneath being of a rather distinct lightish blue or purple. They were armed with polearms of sorts—‘halberds’.
Indeed, these two persons were ‘guards’—the security forces of this denizen locality charged with enforcement of local protocols and mandated customs. The foreigner had seen such guards plenty of times, always patrolling out and about, yet she had never really paid them proper mind until…
Hm… Indeed, seeing these two chatting guards just standing there made her pause… She stared at them, as if realizations were spontaneously appearing into mind…
Military and security… That was a type of ‘job’, no?
A rather profoundly strange…feeling emerged within, one hard to comprehend despite its tugging pull… Surely a well-optimized military apparatus would be…far more forthcoming to would-be others and lack such ridiculous inefficient nonsenses?
Even though she was well enough aware of the reality of what separated denizen military forces from that of her own, she nevertheless needed something… And, indeed, it was the most sensible… What else would be more befitting for someone like her? Primitive or not, a military was still…a military.
Indeed, as if being caught by their event horizon, she found herself gravitating towards those two chatting guards minding businesses their own… Time had ceased as she so spontaneously materialized before them, in effect, standing in place.
? Salvéte—ehem— ? Right, language; “—hello!” she greeted with a donned charm.
The guards ceased their chatting and immediately turned, meeting the mask-obscured eyes of the short-but-perfectly-average-for-her-standards ostensibly Far Western girl so…suddenly before them and who stood with a smiling charm.
“Uhm… Might we be of service, ma’am?” one of the guards…inquired.
“If you have a problem…to be reported, uhm… You should consult the Company headquarters at the harbor or…other relevant embassy…” the other guard stated.
? Ad la contraría jo ?usto vuonderants e?om s?r quomo én las for?as securita?i de vos militare ka potsíet……ehem— ? Her mind was clearly getting too ahead of itself, considering, again, language; “—I give sorry… Rightly—ahem—actually, I was just…uhm…with the curiosity of how to join…your…uhm… What is the word again…?” She needed to… “ ‘Army’? Yes, that…”
The guards…looked at each other and then…back to her. “Well, young lady,” one of the guards began to say, “first one must present himself to the count and his court. The City Guard are his personal men-at-arms charged with garrison and defense of his city; it is no easy process to become one, either…”
“However,” the other guard interposed, “the standards are not as strict, I would say—we are the guard, after all… We won’t be sent out for any wars to fight battles besides against hooligans, so glory-seekers shouldn’t bother”.
Hm… Considering she did not necessarily want to kill or even harm anyone or…anything for that matter, she liked the sound of that… Indeed, her smile widened, she leaned in even closer; “And…how does the one present to this ‘count’? What is the process for the joining?”
“Well, he must firstly solicit a”—the guard sighed— “Actually, it would be far easier if you brought…” He paused… “For whom are you inquiring on the behalf? I had not even asked…”
The foreigner tilted her head, confused for…it should be obvious. By this point, it should have been clear where this was going… “…myself, of course?” she replied.
The two guards, again, looked at each other and then back at the foreigner, evaluating her ‘girlish’ figure and harmless demeanor; their cheeks inflated as they huffed in a suppressed laugh of sorts.
“…oh, you…humor us so!” the guard so remarked, exhaling deeply; “I mean no offense, ma’am, but we are…men-at-arms for a reason; neither war nor policing are befitting a fine woman such as yourself, and you do not appear to be an adventurer or…warrior at all…”
Her stance stiffened as her feigning smile became difficult to maintain. ? De corsa: ?e hoc iterù… ? her breaths so silently muttered; of course…this again.
“But, of course…” the other guard interposed, “the armies of most realms make exceptions for freelancers and, as he implied, adventurers—or former adventurers, more like… Unfortunately, you do not seem to be any of that, but…your desire to follow the path of fighting with arms humbles us…”
The foreigner sighed… “I see, well… It seems that we come from the different places… Goodest of days to you, I give the grace…” She bowed courteously before…promptly departing off.
Hm. Well, that was unexpected despite it…being totally expected. She was hardly bothered by this setback; not affected whatsoever. She felt nothing; numbed completely. This was insignificant to her, completely and utterly meaningless.
The foreigner distanced herself, gravitating towards a corner obscure and out of sight, whereafter she sharply paused… Her heel promptly found itself…kicking harshly into the pavement, practically bashing, as she let out a venomous tsk. ? Iterù, iterù, iterù-que. Qual merda stupidissima, stupidissimosa… ? Her quiet yet potent breaths repeated.
Stupid denizens, stupid denizens, this again, this again, always this.
What functioning military apparatus did not integrate all possible personnel into it?
Certainly, the physical and biological differences between generic and specialist humiforms were far more significant for places such as here and their military needs; but, even then, such overt differences could be easily accounted for and rectified with proper well-planned design in order to incorporate all possible components into a single functioning apparatus, tailoring their capabilities to roles and functions for which they would be best suited in consideration to their strengths and weaknesses.
Stupid…stupid…primitives, their endless abstractions and nonsenses create such chronic inefficiencies in everything they happen to so do and so touch…
This settlement, for example… From her observations, even in an environment of material scarcity that so burdened localities such as this, this city had more than enough necessary resources to ensure adequate maintenance across the entire apparatus. Yet, for abstract reasons beyond her comprehension, large segments of this settlement were neglected, poorly maintained, and poorly sanitized whereas other chunks were seemingly overmaintained.
Abruptly, the foreigner’s mind flattened in sudden and sharp inhibiting calm, the turbulence subsiding as if a ‘switch’ had flipped within, resetting her.
With a deep exhaling sigh, she simply began to walk, and as she walked, she began to plan and reassess… “The freelancer…” she mumbled aloud, ? síc énquitne? ? Indeed, over the course of this ‘quest’ of hers, she had continuously heard that apparent ‘exception’ repeated. Those so-called ‘freelancers’—a type of spellcaster or ‘mage’ in these lands.
Hmm… Well, she herself was…a type of arcane specialist, technically… Though, her arcanity was something she would prefer to keep more obscure and hidden. Never mind that she had not any the idea as to how one even became this ‘mage’ of theirs, and double never mind that…learning an alien arcanity was generally difficult, her own peculiarities notwithstanding.
Yet, even so… What else was there for her to do? After spending all these countless days scouring for empty nothing, it seemed she might not have any…real alternatives. Thus, she might as well investigate how to become this ‘freelancer mage’… Tomorrow, of course… She had enough of denizens for a day.
