Chapter 51: Penniless

  One coin.

  All that remained of the tidy sum of coins Theo had received from Chaste all that time ago—or maybe not so long ago, after all—was one coin. Sure, Sigil Lake was several villagers and plenty of equipment richer, but the cost had been high. 566 coins had lain scattered across the table just a moment ago. Now, a solitary coin remained, and it wasn’t one of the higher value ones. It became confusing when they named the currency and its preferred medium the same, but the only remaining coin on the table was worth just one coin.

  “This world is odd.”

  The rest of the council didn’t so much as react to Theo’s words. Grace’s eyes were red and bloodshot, Wen’s were closed, maybe for the night, and the sounds Willam was making—breathing, one might’ve guessed—were for sure snoring. Their panel of guests here to help plan the town had already left them to their own devices. Standing around staring at a group of people pressing their fingers into ghostly blue buttons in the air could only entertain so long.

  “Saying ‘this world’ all the time makes it rather obvious that you’re not from around here,” Grace said, blinking after almost every word uttered. Her lips were dry, Theo noticed. It had been a while since they had taken a break. “It’s called Aera. You know this.”

  “Actually, isn’t the continent called Aera? I’m sure I’ve heard that before.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Wait, are they both called Aera?”

  “Yeah. It’s called an easy naming scheme.”

  “Are there other continents, then? Does the Queen of Ercheat rule there as well?”

  Theo hadn’t taken the time to consider this before. He raised his arms into the air, stretching. A pop sounded from his left shoulder.

  “Of course—and no. She rules only this continent.”

  “How many are there then? Who rules them?”

  Grace was silent for some time. When Theo looked over, his eyes weary from just tracking the movement of his head, he found her fidgeting with her hair whilst mid-yawn. “I dunno,” she mumbled.

  “You don’t know the number of continents, or you don’t know who rules them?”

  “Both,” she said, yawning again.

  “Okay…Hoping you’re just bad at geography, I’ll just ask this, then: What are some of the other continents called?”

  “I’m pretty good at geography. Don’t blame me for not knowing impossible-to-know stuff. And, far as I know, they’re all called Aera. Simple, remember?”

  “They’re not all called Aera…are they?”

  Grace shrugged, and Theo eyed Wen’s sleeping form, his questioning gaze left unanswered.

  “This world is stupid.”

  He shook them all awake moments later, having gathered the sole coin from the table and placed it back in its pouch, though storing it there seemed redundant…and stupid. This world was stupid.

  They headed out of the council chamber and through the hallway towards the main entrance of the Barge. Hopefully, the others were keeping the campfire tradition alive for at least one more night—Theo was feeling hungry more than sleepy—but he realised he’d fall asleep the moment he laid down to rest. Maybe just a grilled mushroom first.

  The fire was lit, but not all the villagers remained this late at night. Having walked halfway towards the campfire, Theo turned to look back, finding a few rooms on the second floor lit with gentle firelight. It looked inviting, the outline of the building only just visible in the darkness, the windows like warm eyes keeping watch of its surroundings. In the opposite direction, the fumbling fire, short and stunted, didn’t seem as pleasant. But his friends were hulking over, and Theo was pulled along, being drawn that way by nothing but his own will.

  The meal proved better than anything he’d had in this world until that point. He just had the charred mushroom, or that was what he turned the thing into after sticking a stick through it. The stick was an end shorter, and blacker than anything else except the logs in the centre of the fire—that stupid stick—when he was finished grilling it. The mushroom, that is.

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  Hank tore into an abble; Theo had already had his fill of abbles for the week, and his wife—her hair almost as black as the stick in Theo’s hand—ate a chunk of meat Theo couldn’t find the source of anywhere. Wen’s head had at some point fallen onto Theo’s shoulder, balancing on it, risking rolling off it. Theo was far from prepared to catch it, or her, if worst came to worst, and her light snoring didn’t radiate safety or control. Grace’s head was in Wen’s lap. No, that had to be a hallucination. He wasn’t even sleep-deprived. He’d slept well enough that night, but he was mentally exhausted.

  Willam was…where was Willam? Theo leaned as far as he could, trying to glimpse the other side of the fire. The smoke and rising heat made it difficult to see whilst sitting on the log benches around it. He saw Julie, the orange of the fire reflecting from the woman’s blood-red hair and its golden sheen. In her lap, she was nursing…oh. Willam’s head. The giant body, lengthwise at least, was lying across the bench she sat on. Her finger was brushing through the hair over his ear. It looked nice. Comfortable.

  Theo’s eyes darted towards the fire, then he reeled from the sudden shift. He hadn’t been prepared for it; his tired eyes wanted to force themselves closed. They resisted when he held them open, their weight increasing by the second. Then, to keep himself awake, he reminded himself that soon, more people would come. Some might be there the next day, even, depending on where they were currently staying. Ten more people. It would be stretching their available sleeping spots, forcing most of the villagers to share rooms unless they could raise a house or two before their arrival or someone offered to sleep in the impromptu barracks.

  Theo’s system and its grace period on the ‘Fresh Start’ filter proved itself a godsend—in the literal sense, in this case. The ten people were almost all from that list. Without it, they wouldn’t have been able to afford all the stuff they needed. Theo had seen the demanded up-front cost of recruiting someone who did not want a fresh start…it was more coin than a wagon-full of brewer’s equipment and a pair of bovodines—cows, Theo suspected. Leaving everything behind to start again somewhere new seemed to be scary popular among the masses, if the right price was offered. And since the price offered would be the price they set…

  He found it odd how this world—Aera, he corrected himself—had so many similar things to Theo’s own world, but with slight alterations in shape, taste, and name. Violetberries carried a heavy resemblance to similarly coloured berries in Theo’s world, though they grew from smaller bushes; purpleberries. It comforted him; it was something recognisable in a place far, far away from his true home. His old home.

  Two traders, each with an additional wagon loaded with needed equipment—the 10kg limit to extra goods being waived when transportation was provided—was behind most of the coin-drain of the day, but also filled Sigil Lake’s previous and near-future material needs: animals to pull them, enough vats and tanks to stack high as a mountain, and bedding, as well as a few more things like animal feed and the like. Almost as expensive as the animals themselves were the variety of spices. Food with more complex tastes was coming soon. Of course, a cook would use them. Wen would soon have her hands full, after all.

  The recruited crafter would need a slew of tools for a variety of craftwork, be it saws, files, knives, hammers, or tongs. With a crafter, though, provided they had the materials, they wouldn’t need to purchase tools again. While wood wasn’t an issue, stone and metal might be, unless the miner they hired to prospect the area and set up a quarry didn’t find any worthy deposits of either. Despite their fears of not finding anything worthwhile, a good find was a good find; a very skilled smith seemed interested in breaking away from their previous life, so Sigil Lake snatched them up at no cost—except for the cost of smithing tools.

  A second farmer had also been recruited, so they could get the third field ready before harvesting the first two. Willam had planned a rotation for his wanted crops already, which included the third field. With Theo’s water and dirt, that time was coming up sooner than expected. If they could build a proper farmhouse before then, that would be all the better, with bonuses added to all fields. While Willam, and in all likelihood the second farmer, could each take care of two fields each, the time wasn’t right for a fourth. The sheppies and bovodines would more than make up for the work saved. They’d need stables soon, but not immediately upon arrival.

  The farm animals were among the largest steps for Sigil Lake to provide for itself. They were an important resource, providing wool and milk, and eventually meat. They didn’t buy enough for a big enough flock to breed more, but the time would come for that—the traders, along with Wen’s brewing and the dungeon’s resources—would make sure of that. The sole dungeoneer—an expensive one—would help harvest resources from the dungeon, doubling the yield Grace could provide alone, if the new dungeoneer could solo the dungeon.

  Theo was more interested in the tutor, or rather the investigator they recruited almost entirely for tutoring him—if Sherblanc would even agree to it. Unless Sigil Lake was aching to spend three thousand coins minimum on other potential recruits with elemental affinity skills, they wouldn’t get anyone else. Either magical skills were in higher demand than Theo had thought, or those who had them weren’t too willing to move and start over somewhere else. He feared a mix of both.

  Last, there was the keeper, a fine addition to the Barge and its future business, as well as Sigil Lake’s current and soon-to-be residents. Sigil Lake was in for quite the expansion; a near-doubling of its inhabitant count, buildings soon popping up and the town’s economy kick-started. All that stood between Theo and these exciting adventures…was sleep.