The next two homes were small and simple, but I could see the church through the windows, so I cleared them with as much stealth as possible. It was worth it though as I found some coins under a mattress in what might have been a sock once. One silver, some green disks that were either copper or bronze.In the second house I found a magical device under one bed.Cheap magical wand, oldAll it did when I pushed magic into it was vibrate. Maybe I could use it to hurt ghosts though, so I tossed it into my sack.Then it finally happened.Congratulations! Through repeated actions your Cleaning skill has improved and is now eligible for rank up!Rank C costs one (1) Class Point“What?!” I said once I was done cheering (quietly). I did have a Class Point from when I levelled up, but I was loath to spend it so soon. Wasn’t I supposed to sit on skill points forever and never ever use them until I had to fight some big boss?Oh well, whatever. A lost point at level one wasn’t that big a deal, I figured.Spend one (1) Class Point to raise the Rank of Cleaning to C?“Yes please,” I said.Congratulations! Cleaning is now Rank C!Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.CleaningRank C — 00%The ability to Clean. You are exceptionally good at tidying up and washing off. Effectiveness of cleaning is marginally increased. You may now use mana to clean things you touch.I stared, then started to giggle, and then, because I didn’t want the ghosts across the street to eat me, I slapped a hand over my mouth and ran out of the house.My next stop was somewhere I was curious about, and where I could practice my new magic. Magic! I had magic! I didn’t so much run as skip to the Inn.The Inn was how I had left it, deserted but surprisingly clean, like a house in bad need of some love ready to be shown off to some prospective buyers. I twirled around, skirt flaring for a moment before I refocused on my task. A bit of searching later, I had the basement key in hand and was fitting it into the lock.The door opened with a deep groan, revealing a long room with a low ceiling. There were stones with glyphs on them fixed to the beams above, a long table in the middle of the room with a few scraps of what might have been a map, and some crates stacked up to one side. The far wall had big kegs that had probably held the wine and mead and beer that they once served here.No ghosts, wraiths or even a rodent of unusual size.I was in the clear to explore.Deeper in, I found three stands with armour on them, each rack covered in roughly scratched glyphs. The armour looked intact as if they had been completely untouched by the passing of time.I gasped, already giddy at the idea of using magic, now doubly so if I got to wear cool armour while casting my first spells.The first two sets looked like something I’d expect a lowly adventurer to wear.Simple steel armour, old.Simple steel plate armour, old.They were neat, but built for someone way bigger than me. And male. The third set was more to my liking.Simple armless gambeson, old.The thick padded cloth, all of it coloured a sort of beige, would make me look kind of chubby, that that was alright if it meant not being dead. It even had a sort of jacket above it made of a thick leather. A skirt made of long strips of leather with little brozen scales sewn into it hung below.Boiled leather jacket, old.Boiled leather skirt, old.A glance at the racks and a quick ‘Insight’ revealed how they had survived so long.Magical armour rack.I took the armour off the rack and weighted it in my arms for a bit. It was all a little heavier than my usual clothes, but that was fine. “It’s such a shame there’s no way for me to clean this poor, dirty old armour with a spell,” I said with false exasperation.I focused on my magic-the same stuff I had been using to make water with the showerhead glyph-and pushed it towards the armour. A wash of tiredness swept over me, but that was secondary to what I saw. The dirt and dust flaked off of the armour, the straps took on a faint shine and the cloth looked freshly cleaned.I laughed aloud as I spun my totally awesome new armour around. I had magic!First cleaning spells, next, fireballs! A quick check of my stats showed me just how much I had lost which was kind of disconcerting.Mana 79/105About a quarter of my total mana. Mana which I knew went up by about one a minute. Still, the amount of time it would have taken me to clean the armour as well as the spell had was... probably the same?I flipped the armour back and forth and looked at how clean it was, then considered how long it would take me to reach the same level of cleanliness by hand. About twenty to thirty minutes? Which was the same time it took to regenerate that mana. So it was a fair trade.For the sake of practice I fired off the spell on the skirts and the leather jacket and lost two different amounts of mana, both lower than the gambeson alone. Neat!“What do you think, Bonesey?” I asked my skeletal friend.“Rrr,” was his bored response.“Yeah, I guess you saw all sorts of magic in your day, huh?” I told it. “I hope you don’t mind, but I need to get dressed, so...” I reached over and turned Bonesy so that it was facing the far wall. As friendly as we were, well, it wasn’t so friendly that I’d let it see me getting dressed.I debated keeping my blouse on or not, but I didn’t want to armour to chafe and the soft cotton of my blouse would keep my skin safe. Still, I took it off and winced at how dirty it had become. Oh, if only I had a solution to that.A few more points of mana down the drain and I had a perfectly spotless blouse. One that I was going to wear over skin that hadn’t seen a shower in two and a bit days. Yuck.Another drain of mana and I gasped. I was... clean. Very clean. I was clean all over. ”Oh, wow,” I said as I shifted around. “That’s... refreshing.”Mana 42/105I shrugged and fired off another cleaning spell at my skirt, because I could. Then slid back into my blouse. It felt... itchy. Had I just exfoliated my everything? I had to be careful with this great power.Still, it wouldn’t be right not to share!“Hey Bonesy, how you you like to be the cleanest, leanest skeleton on this side of... wherever we are?”“Rrr?”“Uh huh,” I said as I placed one finger onto the bony skull and pushed.Magic flowed out of me.Bonesey shifted, jaw opening, then hanging slack as a ghostly form, just a head and the hint of shoulders, appeared out of the skull.Ding! Congratulations, you have sent ‘Bonesy. Skeletal Bard’ Level 3 beyond the veil! Bonus Exp was granted for cleansing a monster above your level!“Bonesy!” I shouted.The ghostly afterimage above the skull floated up, taking the shape of a man’s face. “Thank you,” he whispered before fading away.My knees crashing into the dusty ground.“Bonesy! No, no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Chapter Seven — Grave
I hit a rock. A spark flew out from the gardening trowel I was using. I grabbed the rock and tossed it aside and returned to digging.The hole grew. Wet dirt stained my knees and seeped into my dress as I tore into the soggy ground.My fingers began to hurt. I dug deeper.The sun burned down onto my back. The hole was a few feet deep now. Not very even, not as deep as some. But enough.I lowered the package down, wrapped in the cloth of a banner I had found in the guard tower.I stared for a moment. The words were hard to find until a small smile broke out. “Rarr,” I said.Dirt fell onto the grave, filling it. Then I patted it down.The gravestone came next. A plaque made from a piece of a door, the stick holding it up once a spear that had saved my life.BonesyAn unnamed bard.A skeletonA friendI wiped my cheeks dry and got up.
* * *
The armour I had been so excited about slipped on easily enough. There were knots to tie, and the material pinched in a few places. But as soon as it was all on the material shifted and moved. I felt the faint stir of magic around my body, then nothing.It fit like a glove.That was good. I would need it.
* * *
There were still only five ghosts. I had a long piece of cord by my side, the end heavy where I had tied my showerhead glyph. I held onto the small ‘magic wand’ in my other hand. I had a suspicion I wanted to prove.The grass rustled and shifted as I walked closer to the church, to the graveyard. “Hey!” I called out.Five heads slowly turned my way, then their faces shifted into disgusting, disfigured expressions as if I had just walked over to them covered in rot and filth.“Hello,” I said. My voice was hoarse, a little raw. I blinked a few times, then coughed to clear my throat. “Hello. My name is Broccoli Bunch,” I said even as the first ghosts started to fly towards me, arms and claws outstretched.“W-would you be my friends?”The first ghost to reach me grabbed my face, claws digging into the back of my head and cheek.“I’m sorry,” I said.Cleaning magic shot into the ghost.The ghost burst apart.I swung my makeshift flail around in a tight circle, sweeping through the arms of the next ghost to approach again and again, but it was still coming at me.The magic wand flew through its head and past the body of the ghost behind him. One fell, the other paused as the hole in its torso mended.I stepped to the side and shoved my hand into the chest of the next ghost. Another pulse of cleaning magic. Two were left. I was down to the last third of my mana.My spinning flail spun through the already injured ghost as I moved onto the last and most intact of the group. A touch, a burst of mana. It burst apart like a sack of flour with a firecracker inside it.Then the flail did its job and the final ghost, already torn apart, whooshed onto the ground in a pool of dust. It left behind a thin, ghostly cloth.My knees hit the ground and I buried my face in my hands. My tears stung when they slid into the open cuts across my cheek.But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stay and just wallow in my own sadness. I had a quest, a mission to do, and being sad, being down like that, even if, even if I had just killed my only friend. I swallowed, throat thick.Ding! Congratulations, you have wiped out (5) enemies (‘Sentinel Ghost of Threewells by Darkwood’ Level 1! x5)!Ding! For repeating a Special Action a sufficient number of times you have unlocked the skill: Makeshift Weapon Proficiency!“Neat,” I said to no one, because there was no one to hear.I got up. I wiped my eyes again. I used the last of my mana to clean my face, wiping away the drying blood and allowing a fresh rivulet to slip down my cheek. One more cut and I would have an even number of scars across my cheeks. I snorted, which turned into a giggle, which I stopped before I started crying again.The shops. The church. Then the evil spirit. Enough time to regain all of my mana and maybe eat some more honey and drink more lukewarm water.I picked up the ghostly cloth and brought it with me to the edge of the road where my haversack was waiting and tossed it in along with my magic wand. The showerhead I kept. Had to grind those Makeshift Weapon Proficiency levels after all. A gift, of sorts, from Bonesy.The first stop was a general store, the shelves emptied, some of them tossed to the ground. There were jars here and there, and some lengths of rope that looked decent. I took one and looped it under one arm and over the opposite shoulder. It seemed sturdy enough, and good rope was never a bad thing.I found a backpack in the back of the store. It was dusty, of course, and a little brittle, but the material seemed nice and tough and hadn’t rotten away. I transferred the stuff from my haversack into it, leaving behind some of the less handy things and wrapping others in the cloth I had. I didn’t want to make too much noise as I moved, which meant quieting down the rattle of the stuff I carried.My inventory, if I could call it that without sounding too geeky, consisted of:A now-empty haversackTwo pieces of ghostly clothA key from the house with training dummiesFour jars of honeyOne jar of vinegarTwo bottles of wineA bottle of water from my showerheadOne pretty painting boat and dragonSome silverware in a clothOne silver candleholder with a dozen fresh candlesThe narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.A small firestarterSome bits and pieces of cloth.A length of ropeMy mapNot much of a hoard, but enough, I hoped, to get by. I wondered where and when I had misplaced my rusty short sword. Not that it mattered much.The next stop was the blacksmith’s shop. There was a bell that clunked above the door, just loud enough and close enough to my head that I jumped three feet in the air at the noise. “Oh gosh,” I said as my heart pounded away. I shook my head, made sure I was still alone in the shop, then started looking around.This had to be the workspace of whoever lived in that one home I had found with the broken anvil. It was a busy place, with tools laying all over and strange devices left to rust. From the number of hooks on the wall and the tools around, it was clear that the blacksmith had taken his or her share of them with them. The anvil was gone, but there was a big log where it might have sat. The huge forge at the back had remained, probably easier to move the rest of the building than that one piece.I didn’t clean anything as I moved to a small section that seemed to be made for displaying wares and suchlike to the customers. There was a safe with a key resting in its lock.“Huh,” I said as I easily opened the door and found... ingots of metal and a few knives in leather sheaths. One man’s treasure, I guessed. None of the stuff within the safe was rusted, probably owing to the glyphs carved into the sides of the box.I pulled out one knife and sheath and inspected it visually, then ran a thumb perpendicular to the blade. It sang a little. Sharp.“Insight.”A sharp steel woodsman’s knife, old.I shrugged, tossed one knife into my backpack and looped the other to the belt holding up my leather skirt.The rest of the shop didn’t reveal much of any worth to me.The third store, the one nearest the gates of the village, had a strange sign above it. A staff with a ball above it and something going around it. Magic, obviously, but what sort was beyond me.The door opened to a few quick kicks and revealed a sort of clinic, of all things. A pair of beds at the back, both with dirtied sheets on them stained with what might have been blood once. There was a counter with glass jars to one side, and beyond that a small room with mortar and pestles and alembics.“An alchemist’s shop,” I realized. “And a medical clinic.” It made sense that they would be together. I picked up a bottle and shook it a little. “Insight.”An expired healing potion, old.“Shucks.” Not one of them was usable, much to my dismay. I left them behind and explored some more, but most of the good stuff had left with the people living here or had been looted long ago. The second floor of the building had a small bedroom for two and an office space with a strange cabinet on the wall. There were some more tools within, and a single book. All perfectly untouched.I recognized the glyphs from the safe on the inside of the cabinet. It was locked.Safe from time the contents might have been, but not from a smack from a rock. The glass burst apart, showering the floor in tinkling pieces that I shied away from. “Sorry,” I said to the no doubt long-dead owners as I moved to the cabinet. The book was fresh. Not quite new. In fact, it was worn and well loved.Herbs for Healing, Plants for Power, read the title.“Huh, neat,” I said. “Insight.”A herbology book.I leafed through the pages, taking note of the carefully hand-drawn images of plants on nearly every page and the obviously machine-printed text next to them with descriptions and warnings and uses. There were notes as well, in a cursive hand that was hard to read but still comprehensible if I squinted.I wrapped it in a bit of old bedsheets I cut off in the bedroom, then placed it in the bottom of my pack.That was it. There were some homes left to explore, and the church, but that was it for this corner of the town. It was also it for me, at least for that day. The sun hadn’t begun to set yet, but I was tired, weary to the bone.I had one last thing I wanted to look into, then I would be off.The town was as silent as ever as I crossed it. The only difference now that my head was held high and I welcomed any ghost that would come at me. None did. I reached the hole in the wall where I had first come out into Threewells and shuffled into it. My eyes lingered over where Bonesy had once been, but I moved on.In the office was the chest I couldn’t open. In my hand, the key I had found in the house with the training dummies and spare swords. It was just a hunch, but... The key slotted in, and I spun it around. The lock clicked and the top of the chest popped open with a whump of pressurized air escaping.I opened the chest to find two binders filled with papers and a leather bandolier, all of its pockets empty.Well, it was there for the taking. I slipped off my leather jacket, then put on the bandolier so that it would be opposite the coil of rope I had, then I hiked the jacket back on and replaced the rope. There. Now I looked like... well, the gambeson made me look like a marshmallow. A marshmallow with a skirt and a leather jacket.I smiled faintly at the image I must have presented. Far from the competent explorer I hoped to be. Still, it was good enough for now.I picked through the binders absently. The pages within were mostly intact, but all of them seemed like dull reports.I took them anyway. I needed something to keep me company until morning.
