Summoned A Hundred Years Too Late

Some quests were easy. Others were hard. Yet, she pushed through them all the same. All for her pride. All for the streak. But as Alexandra discovered today’s daily, for the first time, she believed she was going to lose.

She sat back down on her bed, all her drive evaporating in an instant.

She dispelled her journal, and summoned it again. When she flipped it open, she groaned. She hadn’t misread.

Quest Journal

Daily Reset: 06:00 | Streak: 6 Days | 0% All Stats

Next Milestone: 10 Days

Daily Quests:

Do your household’s laundry (0/1)Life was unfair. Sometimes, things were going so well one could think they were the chosen one. Sometimes, one was faced with unexpected, life-altering moments that were hard to recover from.

This was one such moment.

With a sigh, she pushed on her knees to stand up. Fate had thrown a wrench in her plans, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t have breakfast.

She joined her hosts in the main room. They were already sitting at the table, dipping their bread into their usual soup.

“What’s the long face?” Lara asked.

Alexandra shook her head, and sat down. “Don’t mention it.”

Lara pouted. “I take it that today’s quest is not to your liking.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” Alexandra dipped her spoon into the bowl that had been set aside for her. “Laundry. It wants me to do the laundry.”

Lara scanned her, her eyes going up and down the clothes that she was wearing since she’d arrived in Lanterne. Her trousers were covered in dirt, with traces of blood staining the fabric. Some of it was hers. Her shirt was in a better state, but only because her vest had taken the brunt of the abuse. “About time, I’d say.”

Alexandra rolled her eyes, and pulled her shirt. She looked at it, smelled it, wrinkled her nose. “It’s not that bad.”

Therion shook his head, and shared a glance with his wife.

“But if it was just that, I wouldn’t complain,” Alexandra continued. “It’s asking me to do the household’s laundry! Can you believe it? I hope you don’t have too many clothes.”

“Finally some good news!” Therion laughed.

Lara slapped his shoulder lightly. “Therion!”

“What? It’s about time she contributes.”

“I don’t mind Alexandra helping around. But all our laundry...” She paused. “The timing isn’t great. You did all our clothes yesterday.”

Therion shrugged. “But it’s for her quest, so I expect we’ll find our stuff cleaner than ever!” He turned to Alexandra. “You wouldn’t skimp on us, right?”

She winced. “Well, no…”

He was right. As much as she hated to admit it, it was for her quest.

“Then that’s settled.” Therion clasped his hands. “I’ll show you where the lavoir is after breakfast.”

Lara moved her mouth without a sound. “Sorry.”

Alexandra waved her hand. She was done for anyway.

Therion finished his soup, pushed back his chair, and stood up. ”Ready?”

Alexandra looked at her bowl. Still half full. ”Give me a minute.”

She finished her breakfast, pushed back her own chair, and followed him to the bedroom. He pulled a large wicker basket from under the bed and set it on the floor.

”Everything?” he asked.

”Everything.”

He opened the chest at the foot of the bed and started pulling clothes out. Shirts, trousers, a heavy wool blanket, two sets of bed linen. He folded nothing, just stacked. The basket filled quickly. He added a second blanket from the top shelf of the wardrobe and pressed it down with both hands to make it fit.

Alexandra looked at the pile. ”This is a lot.”

”You said everything.” He lifted the basket without apparent effort and carried it to the main room. Lara added two more items from a chair by the door without being asked: a linen apron and a shirt. Therion accepted them and pressed those down too.

”Sure you don’t want my help?” Lara asked her.

She did, but shook her head. “I need to do it myself.”

”I’ll show her.” He looked at Alexandra. ”Bring your own things.”

She gathered her vest, and the clothes she’d been wearing at the time of her summon, and bundled them under her arm.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Therion was already outside.

She put on her gloves, raised her hood and followed him through the village, her bundle under her arm. He walked unhurried, nodding once to a man outside his house, stopping briefly to let two children cross the path ahead of them.

The lavoir was a simple structure at the edge of the village; a long stone basin set under a low roof open on three sides, with a wooden bench running along the back wall. Water flowed in from one end and out the other, clear where it entered and cloudy where the washing had been.

Two people were already there. A man, past fifty, lean, with forearms that suggested a lifetime of outdoor work. He had his back to them when they arrived, shoulders moving in a steady rhythm. And a woman, younger, somewhere in her thirties, broad-shouldered, her dark hair tied back with a strip of cloth.

Therion set the basket down at the nearest section and nodded at the two already there. ”Mira. Cassin.”

Mira looked up. Her eyes went to Alexandra and stayed there. Cassin kept scrubbing but glanced over his shoulder.

”This is Alexandra,” Therion said. ”She’s staying with us.”

Neither of them said anything.

Therion pointed at the first basin, or the last, if one followed the way water was flowing. ”Worst of the dirt here. No soap. Scrub with your hands, wring it out.” He moved along. ”Soap and brush here. Scrub hard, rinse in the third.” He set a cake of soap on the edge of the second basin. ”Leave things to dry on the line outside.”

He picked up his empty basket.

”You’ll be fine,” he said, and left.

Alexandra looked at the basket. Then at Mira and Cassin. Mira had gone back to her scrubbing. Cassin hadn’t looked at her again.

She pulled the wool blanket out first and dropped it into the first basin. The water turned grey immediately. She was about to put her hands to work when she remembered her gloves. She pulled them off and set them on the edge of the basin. The right hand settled flat against the stone, four fingers and a gap.

She plunged her arms in and started working the fabric against the stone.

Mira’s scrubbing slowed.

Alexandra kept working the blanket.

From time to time, she could feel Mira’s gaze land on her. Until she spoke. ”What happened to your hand?”

Alexandra met her gaze, then looked down at her missing finger. “I lost it fighting a Perub.”

“Oh.”

She shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Silence. Then Cassin turned around fully for the first time. ”You fought a Perub,” he said.

”Two verdant beasts, actually. Mimethys first.”

Cassin set down his scrubbing brush. ”When?”

”A few days ago. Out in the plains.”

He looked at Mira. Mira looked at him.

”We hadn’t heard,” Mira said.

Alexandra kept working. “I guess it happens. Living among those beasts is bound to be dangerous.”

“Nowadays, yes,” Cassin said. “But stumbling upon a Perub is still unusual.”

Alexandra smiled. “Well, one less to worry about.”

“You killed it?” Mira asked, pausing her scrubbing.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

She worked through the pile methodically. The blankets first, heaviest and dirtiest, then the linen, then the smaller things. The soap was coarse and smelled of lye. Her arms ached by the time she reached the rinsing basin.

Cassin left somewhere in the middle of it, nodding once in her direction as he left his things dry on the line. Mira stayed, working through her own pile at a steady pace.

By the time Alexandra wrung out the last of Therion and Lara’s things and hung them on the line, it was close to noon.

She looked at her clothes. Then at the basin.

She was wearing everything she owned.

”I need to wash these too,” she said, mostly to herself.

Mira looked up. Looked her over. ”I have spare clothes at home. It’ll be large on you.” She paused. ”Better than nothing.”

Alexandra looked at the basin again. Then at Mira.

”That would be appreciated.”

Mira set down her brush and dried her hands on her apron. ”I’ll be back.”

Mira came back with a folded bundle: a plain grey pair of trousers and a worn but clean shirt. She set them on the bench without ceremony.

Alexandra changed behind the lavoir, the shirt falling past her hips and loose across the shoulders as promised. She bundled her own clothes and dropped them into the first basin.

By the time she finished washing, rinsing, and hanging them on the line, Mira was already done. She’d left to take care of her other tasks.

She opened her journal.

Do your household’s laundry (1/1) -> Quest Completed: +10 exp, +1 CON, Skill Quest Unlocked: Cleaning.

Daily Quest Streak: 6 -> 7

Alexandra rolled her eyes. Out of principle, she refused to even read through the skill quest and description of Cleaning. She wasn’t going down that road. Not now, not ever.

Leaving the clothes to dry, she stopped home to eat lunch. With half the day still remaining, she was ready to put her time to good use.

While she was scrubbing, a thought nagged at her from the back of her mind. Defeating the Yshant wasn’t going to be easy, and for now, her plan relied a tad too much on her successful unlock of Life Curse. Certainly, it would allow her to use Dark Bolt without draining her lifeforce. But it wasn’t a magic solution, it would curse her in exchange.

Alexandra needed to maximize her chances. To do so, she picked her sickle and started doing drills. It was similar to the hook and pull exercises she’d done to unlock the skill, but enhanced by her experience in real combat situations.

About one hour in, she felt refreshed, and she’d consolidated her comprehension of the weapon.

Sickle Mastery 5 -> 6

She followed her drills by a long jog. This time, she was aiming for distance. She wasn’t delusional to the point where she believed she would clear her Running skill quest today, but she wanted to kill two birds with one stone, and use her training to scout the plains in the hopes of finding a patch of Ghostbells. Or, if she was lucky, a Manfall, though from what Lara had said, it would be difficult.

This time, she’d decided to run south, toward Esmera. Following the road was much easier than going through the rugged plains. It wasn’t ideal for her flower search. But it was a decent compromise between the chances of finding her prize, and not stumbling on loose rocks.

The road stretched south, flat and empty. She kept her pace steady, eyes moving between the ground ahead and the plains on either side. She spotted a few white flowers on the road side, none of the right shape.

From time to time, she checked her journal, measuring her progress. Fifteen kilometers in, she spotted the white from a distance, a pale mass sitting low against the green and pastel of the plains. Large enough to stand out.

She left the road.

The ground was uneven away from the packed dirt, so she slowed her jog, and watched her footing. The white patch came closer. It wasn’t a single species but dozens, a wide meadow of mixed growth where every flower was white.

She stopped at the edge of it.

White flowers. Dozens of different varieties clustered together, their stems tangled, growing in and around each other without much regard for order. Some were bell shaped. Some were flat. Some grew in tight clusters low to the ground, others on tall stalks that swayed independently of the wind.

She crouched and looked without touching.

Lara had described Ghostbell as white, growing in clusters, low to the ground. That described at least five of the species in front of her.

Maybe more.