Summoned A Hundred Years Too Late

She knew the fight was over before she pulled down the hood she was using as a blindfold. Combat Sense was already active, and giving her feedback beyond what she’d expected. She straightened her clothes, and put her hood back where it belonged.

Then, she called her journal and opened it.

You are suffering from the curse of silence.

“How’s it going?” Louis asked as he walked next to her.

She opened her mouth to speak. No sound came out.

“Well?”

She tried again. Nothing. She winced. What an annoying curse. She pointed at her mouth, then at her throat, then she opened and closed her fingers.

“Silence? Is it a sickness?”

She shook her head.

Louis exhaled. “Not too bad. Though it puts an end to your training today. Let’s return to Esmera and gather a few flowers to sell on the way. We need to chip away at the cost of your cure.”

When they reentered the city through the hidden trap inside Louis’ hideout, the curse had faded. Alexandra only managed to barter three bronze for all the herbs they’d collected. She held the coins in her palm for a moment, doing the math she already knew the answer to, then pocketed them.

“I’m never going to be able to afford that stupid cure.” She complained as they walked back to the hideout.

“It’ll be fine. Plenty of ways to make money.”

She didn’t answer. Three bronze. She’d never collect enough money like this.

The next day’s quest didn’t call for fighting. She and Louis stood atop the roof of a building adjacent to the eastern cliff.

“The floor is lava?” he asked.

She shrugged. “That’s how it’s called in my world.”

Quest Journal

Daily Reset: 06:00 | Streak: 13 Days | 1% All Stats

Next Milestone: 25 Days

Daily Quests

Cross Esmera from east to west without touching the ground (0/1)“Let’s get going then. Mind your steps, some roofs are quite fragile.”

Esmera’s roofs were a mix of dark slate tiles and straw. The distribution seemed to have nothing to do with the wealth of the owner, as even the remote neighborhood they started at was mixed equal amounts.

For the first roof, it was slate tiles.

Louis crossed to the far edge without slowing down, each step landing on the narrow wooden beam beneath the tiles rather than the slate itself. Alexandra watched the path he’d taken, then put her foot down on the first tile.

It cracked under her boot.

She shifted her weight to the beam. The tile she’d broken slid sideways and dropped. Three seconds of silence, then a clatter from the alley below. She didn’t look down.

Louis was looking at her.

She picked her way across beam by beam, arms out, tiles flexing and grinding under every misplaced step. One split clean down the middle and she lunged for the next beam, caught it, stood still while the two halves scraped apart and followed the first into the alley.

Louis stood at the edge, waiting.

She reached him, and balanced on the edge.

”You’re heavy,” he said.

“Fuck you.”

He stepped off onto the next roof without answering.

It was straw.

Louis crossed it without slowing, weight spread flat across both feet. The thatch compressed and sprang back. Alexandra stepped on and sank to her ankle.

She yanked her foot free.

She tried again, further left, toe first. It held. She moved slow, arms out, testing each step before she trusted it. The wind blew inland from the sea. She extended her arms to keep her balance. Swayed right, then left, before stabilizing.

Another step. Then another.

The straw gave way to her knee. She grabbed at the surface, fingers pulling up fistfuls of loose thatch, and hauled herself out.

“Don’t break everything. What will the people living here do?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that, thief.”

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“I only rob those who deserve it.”

“Okay, Robin Hood.”

Louis raised his eyebrows. “Who?”

“Nevermind.”

She got better.

Not good. Better. She stopped punching through straw and started skirting the worst patches, found the beams under slate before she trusted her weight to them.

Then they reached the street.

It was narrow. Three meters, maybe four. A cart could pass through with room to spare on each side. Louis looked at it, took three steps back, and jumped. Landed clean on the far side.

He looked back at her with a smile on his face.

Alexandra looked down. The cobblestones were far below. They looked hard, and painful.

She took three steps back. Rocked on her heels. Stepped forward again and stopped at the edge.

Narrow street, but still a long jump.

Louis gestured at her to hurry.

She stepped back again, took a deep breath, and ran. Tiles cracked under her feet. She reached the edge, and jumped.

For a moment there was nothing under her feet. Then the roof came up and she hit it hard, her foot slipped, and she caught herself with her hands.

“You good?” Louis extended his arm.

She ignored it, and pulled herself up. “Are you sure this is the easiest way?”

“How would I know?” He shrugged. “I didn’t map the roofs of Esmera. Best I can do is teach you how to walk on them.”

Three streets later, Louis stopped on the edge of a roof.

Seagulls covered it end to end. Ten, maybe twenty, packed shoulder to shoulder on the ridge and spilling down both slopes. Large ones. They stood in the wind with their chests out.

“What?” Alexandra asked, catching up to him.

He jerked his chin toward the birds.

“They’ll scatter.”

“I don’t—”

But she was already moving. “Come on, man. Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

The nearest seagull turned its head and looked at her with one eye. She took another step. It shuffled sideways.

Then she took a third step and all of them screamed at once.

What followed was only noise, wings and beaks finding every exposed surface. She covered her face and pushed forward, shoes sliding on droppings, a beak pulling at her hair, another hammering at her left ear.

She came out the other side at a run and nearly went off the edge. Her clothes were covered in filth and feathers.

Louis landed beside her a moment later, completely clean.

She stared at him.

”I went around the outside,” he said. ”Along the gutter.”

“You—”

His eyes went wide, and he jumped to the next roof, landing without breaking stride.

She looked back. The seagulls hadn’t given up.

“Shit.”

She jumped, and went after Louis.

Alexandra didn’t trust her back until she’d crossed two more roofs and looked back to find nothing following. She checked her hair. A feather came out. She flicked it off the roof and kept moving.

The main street opened up ahead without warning. She pulled up short at the edge beside Louis.

It was wide. Ten meters at least, probably a little more. Below, the crowd moved in both directions, carts and pedestrians weaving around the stalls.

”We can’t jump that,” she said.

”No.”

Louis crouched at the edge, scanning. Then he pointed. A clothes line ran between a window on their side and a shutter hook on the far wall. Shirts and sheets hung from it, snapping in the wind off the sea.

She nodded.

He dropped off the roof edge and caught the line with both hands. He hung from it, pulled his knees up and wrapped them around the line. He moved hand over hand without hurrying, the line barely flexing, shirts drifting around him. Halfway across he paused to reposition his legs. Then he continued, reached the far sill, and pulled himself up onto the ledge.

He looked back at her.

Alexandra dropped off the edge and grabbed the line.

It took her weight and she started moving, hand over hand, eyes on the far wall. The wind pushed the hanging laundry into her face. She shoved a shirt aside.

Her head was dizzy from hanging upside down.

Sloth. Alexandra. You’re a sloth.

She kept moving.

The line hummed under her fingers.

Then it snapped.

The line gave behind her. She had half a second of the street below her and the wall coming up fast and then she hit it shoulder first, the remaining length of line going slack below her,

The laundry dropped into the street. People looked up.

She hung there, four floors up, feet finding the gaps between stones. Below, someone shouted. Then someone else. She looked down long enough to see a circle of upturned faces. She climbed up the rope, using the wall as support.

Her hands were slick, her arms burning from the strain.

When she reached the end of the line, the ledge was a meter above her. She got one elbow over it, then the other, then dragged herself up and rolled onto the narrow sill, breathing hard.

Louis pulled her to her feet.

”Move,” he said.

She scrambled behind him, eager to disappear from view. They hurried onto the next roof, then jumped over a narrow alley.

“That was unlucky.”

Alexandra grimaced. “Don’t even mention it.”

“At least you fell in the right direction.”

“Shut up.”

He smiled.

They crossed four more roofs without incident. Straw, slate, straw again. Alexandra kept up.

The western cliff rose ahead of them, catching the morning light. Behind her, the sun was still low over the eastern ridge, throwing long shadows across the rooftops.

”What are you doing after this?” he asked.

”Farming in the plains. Need the money.” She crossed the last stretch of cobblestone toward the cliff.

He tilted his head. “Farming?”

“I mean hunting and gathering flowers. You?”

”I’ll stay in Esmera. I want to keep an eye on the Wardens.”

They stepped on the last roof. Slate tiles. Alexandra didn’t damage it. The cliff wall was rough sandstone, pale yellow in the morning light. She reached out and pressed her palm flat against it.

Then she summoned her journal.

Cross Esmera from east to west without touching the ground (1/1) -> Quest Completed: +10 exp, +1 DEX, Skill Quest Unlocked: Sure Footing.

Daily Quest Streak: 13 -> 14

“Ah.”

“Bad skill?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. Might be exactly what I needed.”

He stepped closer, eyebrows raised, hairline well behind them. “Well, tell me.”

“Sure Footing.”

He clicked his tongue.