I stared at the wolf bones. Now that I was producing just common crops, the previous speed was gone. Poor-quality seeds were easy to acquire, but since Jasmine had made nine seed makers—and she even threw in a well!—I had no reason to purchase them. What I had reason to purchase was new tools, but these bone tools were, as my friend would say, magnifique.
I smiled to myself. I had two friends; I was moving up in the world.
Three, if you coun— I did not consider him a friend.
I had three bags of carrots, which meant that 27 carrots could be grown. That was my maximum... without [Animate Bones]. That was like heavy rain after a dry season, and as much as I wanted to rush to the fields to try it out, I was a [Scholar] first.
I pulled out the Mortis Agrariae, my inkwell, and my trusty quill. I spun it around my fingers, thinking of what I wanted to write. An entire section would have to be written regarding—well... just farming.
Did I actually want to write about everything? I wasn’t even recording all my new abilities here. Hell, I had two more from becoming Level 3 that I hadn’t even looked at. I spun the quill and let ink stain my fingers before sighing.
A smile crept onto my face, then paused. I immediately gripped my wrist, and it felt... normal. I groaned.
Obviously I felt normal; I was my own body temperature. I’d have to ask Jasmine when she came over for her thoughts. I glanced to the side at the two vials Madeleine had prepared as the pink liquid bubbled and sloshed against the glass. The tube itself was worth maybe a couple of silver.
I wondered if Jasmine would let me keep them.
I shook my head and turned my attention to my other ability.
Necrotic, huh?
I stared at the wolf bones again and then thought of Adrian’s silver sword. My hand hovered over the bones but then stopped. A sword like his was far too obvious. I glanced to the side and broke a bit off the rib cage.
[Bone Mend]. [Ossify].
I willed the singing of the symphony into one composition and anchored it straight. My eyes closed, and my heart hummed. My fingers twitched in concert as the rib bone I broke slowly mended itself into perfection. The gray shards of bonemeal were like cicadas flocking and then merging into repaired goop. Then the insects spread outward, the tip sharpening into a dagger’s point. The hilt was still bone, so maybe Jasmine would be able to make something more comfortable.
Wait.
I glanced at the ribs and broke each one out. A wolf, like a human, had 24 rib-cage bones, which meant 24 shards. Thank Flora Maddy had made tea; this was going to be work.
[Bone Mend]. [Ossify].
Each of the rib bones became a sharpened dagger. I stared at the set and then bundled them together. I didn’t need to [Invest] in this. Instead—
[Skeletal Grasp].
The 24 bones rose as a single pile. I stepped back, which caused the bones to come back with me. [Mage Hand] had never felt like anything, but [Skeletal Grasp] felt like... well, I was grasping each of those daggers. I glanced outside and then walked out with my floating barrage.
The first time I practiced archery, it was when I was hunting rabbits a few days ago. This wasn’t archery, though. The old cherry tree that didn’t produce cherries was a good enough target as any.
My point of interest was the knothole. It was a tiny little spot that acted as a “fairy box,” where Adrian and I would leave little gifts to the fae in hopes of treasure. All of our gifts—mostly sugar—were stolen. Pa told me it was squirrels, since Flora’s messengers never really liked sugar, but that didn’t seem true. There was a kid a few towns over who apparently made friends with a pixie by giving her a candy cane.
I took position 30 feet away. My first dart held itself in front of my eyes, and then I...
I wasn’t sure how this worked. I wasn’t flicking my wrist; it was more akin to a thought. Would I need to practice this? I glanced at the floating dagger—dart?
[Inspect].
Nothing too special about it, then, so here goes nothing. I looked at the top of the knothole and “released” my thoughts. It felt like loosing a cicada’s song, whirring away like an angry gnat.
But something odd was also happening. I could feel the dagger speed up, but I didn’t feel the mistake of a wrong throw. As the dagger flew, it went up, then down, and whistled in the air.
“Holy shit, Ash, you’re doing it!” I cackled to myself, before finally glancing at the knothole. The dagger’s tip slammed where I was looking with... exceptional force. Far more than would’ve come if I’d flung it with my tiny frame.
I recalled the dagger and noticed the small cracks. I hummed to myself as I cast [Bone Mend].
I no longer needed my shitty bow, as I willed my daggers to enter my [Inventory] as well, as a singular stack.
But did that answer my actual question? Did I need to write this down? While it was interesting, it wasn’t really related to the farm in any way. Even making tools wouldn’t really change anything information-wise, since it was just the creation of bone.
I walked toward the knothole while musing. Ultimately, I was leaning toward not adding it to the Mortis Agrariae, since, as the title suggested, it was about The Dying Fields, not about necromantic tools.
This entire path was a means to pay off a debt, and if I made some extra, I’d go back to the Academy and finish my schooling.
My hand idly reached into the knothole, expecting to grab some acorns.
I felt something heavy, and paper. That pulled me out of my reverie, and I looked down at my hands. Stained, ruined paper and a small box.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
The handwriting on the paper was far too familiar.
“Hey Ashy,
Haven’t seen you around since you went to the Academy. Pa says it’s for the best to mellow you out, but I miss going on adventures with ya. I got selected by Sir Roderick to be his squire, so it looks like things are going up for me as well, but....
...Do you remember the time we tried to climb the Great Oak to meet the King and Queen of the Woodlot? I asked you what we were going to do when we met them, since we were going to be cursed and I ain’t no good at riddles. You told me to hush up then, and say you was my wife, so you’d play for me.
I... think about that all the time, and I’m hoping you’ll see this message before I return. I know, I know, it’s dorky, but I miss you, Ashy.”
I could see the word love but it was scratched out in that boyish way of trying to hide a word, but not wanting to hide it so completely that it was gone.
“Yours, Addy
P.S. I bought this with my savings. I thought it’d look nice on you!”
I glanced at the box and brought it to my nose. It smelled... old and damp, and even as the spiders skittered off it and I brushed the web away, I could tell it was... well, it wasn’t exactly cheap, but it wasn’t expensive either. It was expensive for two twelve-year-olds—maybe at 5 gold? I didn’t really have any ranks in [Appraise].
I shook my head.
I opened the box, and inside was a silver amulet with a green emerald as its centerpiece. It was probably fake, since, again, we were both twelve when I left. But it sparkled radiantly. Without thinking, I clasped it around my neck.
I didn’t have a mirror to look at myself, but I didn’t need to. I also didn’t need a mirror to realize I was smiling like a childish doll, and I wiped that thought off my face.
I still had work to do if I was going to become a [Scholar].
I brought the bones out to the field and sat cross-legged. I could [Invest] into the bone hoe whenever I wanted, but the rest of this was just busy work. It was such a weird quest for Level 3 since, realistically, I could finish it within a day.
I guessed becoming a [Scholar] that had to pass her exams was playing a part of it—or was the [Adventurer] track that much faster? [Scholar] was, after all, just an expert track.
I shrugged. I wasn’t ever a fan of Amaril, so if he was letting me sneak by this fast, I wasn’t going to complain.
I sighed and waved my hands over the bones. They slowly repaired themselves and became the tools I needed—a watering can, a hammer, and an axe. These were basic tools that a [Farmer] could use to clear her fields. I’d need a sickle too, but that wasn’t required right now... though I was always forward-thinking.
I put the hammer, sickle, and axe into my [Inventory], and stared at the watering can and hoe. Madeleine had said it could only do simple tasks, so I’d have to be creative.
Actually, I didn’t. I was a [Scholar]. I was allowed to test, make theories, and fail. I knew the command I’d give to the watering can: “Water the field where there are carrots planted.”
But for the bone hoe? My maximum efficiency was just 27 tiles without [Fainted]. Going over it would make it exceptional, but what would people think?
Nothing. I’d constantly have to sell off the common carrots and then... put the dirty money to smaller expenses. I couldn’t use it to pay off the debt right away since I wouldn’t be able to explain where I got it, and common carrots weren’t worth a single gold piece.
Maybe that was too far ahead in my thoughts right now. I had nine seed makers, so that would be 81 potential crops. 81 mL of blood wasn’t a lot, but I wouldn’t need that many converted carrots either. An easier trade was six blood crops and three normal.
I hummed to myself as I cast [Animate Bones] on the hoe. I then examined my fields properly.
While the 27 spots I had cleared were nice and empty, I’d need three times that for my plan. And that was filled with rocks, weeds, and branches. I glared at the fields.
“Flora damn it. It wasn’t a simple task at all,” I cursed, taking out the other tools from my [Inventory] and placing them down.
[Animate Bones].
The axe, hammer, and sickle floated, awaiting their mistress’s blood. I started with the hammer, which glowed a brilliant green.
“Clear 81 spots for me.”
The hammer floated in the air.
“What in Rhyvesta’s name is wrong with you?!” I cursed, calling upon the enemy.
The hammer, however, was uncaring and floated in the air. I growled—guess that was too complicated.
“...Clear every rock in a straight line, up to 81 tiles,” I tried.
The hammer moved forward onto my fields and then... just slammed indiscriminately.
This was worth putting in the Mortis Agrariae. I animated the other two, bled on them lightly, and gave them similar commands.
I pulled out the Mortis Agrariae and began to write.
III. Commands
How to Command, Properly
FACTS
Simple commands mean simple—there is no room for conditionals.
A command must be executable exactly—there is no room for nuance.
INFERENCE
Commands must be exact. Orders of operation matter.
I sat down and closed my book, and watched the three tools plow away. This was an unorthodox way of farming, of course, but then I realized my mistake.
I didn’t actually have the seeds to accomplish all 81. I only had three packs, which meant I was still stuck with 27. And I only had 27 bags of fertilizer, too... which meant it was going to be hard work still.
Thankfully—or regrettably—the three tools dropped after the 50th tile. That meant the burn rate was 2% Anima per activation.
I hummed to myself again as I got to work. I activated the hoe next and commanded it to till 50 tiles and let it drop. I then planted 27 seeds and fertilized the ground.
Since this was common quality, the seeds wouldn’t grow in a day; it’d take two. I dropped a bit of blood on the back 18.
This entire way of farming was odd, as most trained in [Farmer] preferred to do a three-by-three square, since you could spread all the seeds around in a grid. I could give the excuse I wasn’t a [Farmer]—for now—and didn’t have that ability, but it’d only last for now. I’d have to think of a better way. Maybe ask them to clear three rows of 27?
My arms ached as I continued to work, but the work was far easier when it was just planting seeds and applying fertilizer.
Animating the watering can was next, and I had already realized the issue. Even if I said “water 50 tiles down,” a single watering attempt took 5% of volume. After 20, it would be empty, but it would continue wasting time.
I really had to keep watching these things, it seemed.
I watered the first seven manually, refilled the can, and then animated it as well.
I heard the system congratulate me for completing the quest, but that was something I could look at after my fields were tended to.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and put the bone tools in a storage chest. I then locked it so no nosy [Inquisitor] would see it, since I knew he wouldn’t rifle through my packed stuff after finding my panties that one time.
I took a drink of water and opened the system notifications.
I grinned. I felt happier than I had in a long time—not because of leveling up, but for my first ability.
And the quest that popped up with it.
I was getting Mirchie back.
Do you like chapters that are basically 'ability' explorations?
