I vastly preferred boots to heels, since it guaranteed I wouldn’t trip over the wooden staircases that led to the basement. This area was becoming dank and musty, even if there was nothing actually being stored here.

  I moved through the false keg into the Crypt, where Ophelia and the mare awaited me. Ophelia regarded me, staring at my face – though, more accurately, it’d be my hair. For my part, I was staring at the emerald necklace.

  It was mine, but she definitely wore it better, and the diamond chain absolutely made the emerald glow by contrast.

  “It’s red again, Lady Hart?” she interrupted, pulling the mare’s lead and handing it to me. I didn’t take it, since I absolutely did not trust horses.

  “Well… I looked old,” I admitted, which caused her to shake her head. Her fingers came up to her own hair and spread it.

  “White hair is not ba–” she began, but stopped. The [Dark Veil] I had cast on her made it black, and Ophelia looked human. An attractive human, for sure, but definitely human. “I guess normal colours will be our calling card.”

  I looked at her face, trying to figure out how to continue the conversation. She had once told me that the art of conversation required something like… Observe, Add, Bridge. I hadn’t really tried it since I actively did not want people to talk to me.

  “I can observe your hair is black. I am adding that I like my red hair. I… don’t know how to bridge this,” I attempted.

  Ophelia stared at my face, and raised her hand. It landed atop of my scalp and just rubbed it. “D-, Lady Hart. That was awful, even by your neglected standards. But, at least you remember the lesson, and I can work on it. I am personally invested in making sure you do not… ‘bridge this’ like that, ever again.”

  I pouted, and looked at the mare. “I did have something I wanted to ask you. Can you ride horseback?”

  “Of course, which Lady can not.”

  “I can’t. Don’t like ‘em. When Addy and I were eight, we took a filly from Auntie Laura’s barn to try and be professional horse riders. The filly liked Addy, but it tried to munch on my hair! When I pulled my hair away, it just spat on me! Addy said it was ‘cuz my hair was lookin’ like a pretty carrot. Could’ya believe it?!”

  Ophelia raised a hand to cover her lips, but her body still bounced in laughter. “Everytime I hear about you and that boy’s childhood, I can not understand how either of you lived, survived, or have not killed each other yet. Though, you seem determined to get that done on your own.”

  I nodded, which caused the mare to inch towards me. I quickly swept my hair back, away from the offending animal. “Which is what I was goin’ ask you about. I have 110 Masterwork taters with me, and I wanted Jazzy to sell ‘em.”

  “Great. I am a glorified courier.” Ophelia mused, but kept her smile. “As one would expect of a Seneschal.”

  “Nah, I mean, yeah, I do want you too, and do some research for me while you’re at it, but I wanted your advice since you’re a proper lady an’ all.”

  “Why, that is genuinely polite of you, Lady Hart. You are learning!”

  “So, to become a proper [Farmer], I gotta buy my land back from The Queen’s Arm. I have about 300 gold on me, and if these taters sell, I’ll get 800. I can jus’ pay off the debt.”

  “You are going to ask me something stupid, are you not?” Ophelia pursed her lips, pulling the mare back so it wouldn’t chomp on my head.

  “I also owe Addy –”

  “There it is.”

  “ - 789 gold, a wooden sword, three dinners, one dinner with his wife, though, I guess I owe him seven at this point but I’m not counting two of them and he knows why – and I guess a rabbit?”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “I have this plan to be –”

  “Use the money to buy your farm back.”

  “You didn’t even hear my plan!”

  “I do not need to hear it to know what you wish to tell me, and I know it is silly. Buy your farm, stop worrying about the boy, and try to make some distance between yourself and the only man in this town who could kill me and your entire operation without trying.”

  “You’re weaker than Addy?” I said, genuinely impressed. I thought Ophelia was the strongest person I knew, though, I guess Addy remained at that spot.

  “In a way. He is, if you will remember, a [Paladin]. His entire weapon and powerset is based on destroying creatures like I. Even if I were faster, stronger, and a much better choice – it would not stop the sanctity he inhabits. His [Daylight] is Divine in source, and I imagine it’d burn away my immunity to the sun within an instant.”

  “[Daylight]? The farmin’ spell? Huh… Clever. Why didn’ I think of that.”

  Ophelia shook her head but did not respond. “However, if he were to face Noel or Wizex, that superiority would fade away. It is not a linear scale like you are thinking. The Cycle, as you call it, is balanced. One predator is another one's prey.”

  “Except me, I am a parasite!” I gleefully responded.

  “Lady Hart, do not call yourself that.” Ophelia’s voice grew stern.

  “Noel told me that! I like it.”

  “Do not let people call you a parasite, it is an insult... Even if it were from a druid. You are a Lady of the house, not a common insect.”

  “No, no. I am preserving the ecosystem or something! Noel can explain it better than me.”

  “You mortals are insufferable. A parasite is an insult, not a term of endearment. I will speak to the druid on your behalf.”

  I frowned, but knowing Ophelia, she’d go talk to him anyway even if I forbade it. “Okay… the other thing I wanted you to do was find out how much The Stew is, so I could purchase it.”

  “It is leased for 100 gold a month, or purchased for 3000 as is. If you want to make it functional, it’ll be 5000.”

  I blinked at the numbers. “My debt… is 1000. How..”

  Ophelia seemed bored by my question, but spoke anyway. “Azadin’s edicts prevent interest beyond a reasonable amount from the owner. An NPC, like your family was, is capped at 1000 gold pieces as per customary laws. Owning property is very expensive, and only a [Noble] or a [Hero] could usually afford it. I have seen some [Merchant] types do it too. They then rent it to your social class. Your old one.”

  I tried to catch my breath. “...Does that mean?”

  “When you buy your land you will have to deal with actual taxes, property fees, The Farmer’s Guild, the Merchant’s Guild, church tithes – “

  “Please stop.”

  “ – the food addition to feed the Duke’s Knights since you are on his land and owe him a portion of your harvest, community fees, alongside your other costs. Or you can ask to join the Floran’s and just pay the church tithe if you are alright with just planting what they wish you to plant.”

  “No!”

  “Good answer, Lady Hart. Yes, you are exceptionally poor in the grand scheme of things, and while I am no fan of the law, Azadin only cares that a community can function. There is no reason to punish an NPC further than they can actually survive, hence the cap. You, however, are not one. You should buy your land before they readjust your debt.”

  “Rhyvesta damn it, I hate tax collectors.”

  Ophelia smiled. “Alright then, Ms. Audi–”

  I stared at her, and she immediately covered her mouth. My breathing quickened, and in the distance I began to see bodies. Four children. A piss-stained drunk. I could smell blood all over me, and my ears rang with screams and the agonal breathing of death.

  “Forgive me, Lady Hart, I spoke out of turn.” Ophelia tried to say, but her voice was fading in the din of noise.

  I took a breath. Ophelia was here, the crypts were here, I could see the torch light, I could not see dead bodies. That wasn’t here.

  I could smell the dank air, I could smell the fire, and I could smell the aloe on my skin. I also felt it, and my boots and toes. I could hear the fire crackle, and I did not hear screams.

  I exhaled my breath.

  “It’s alright, Ophelia. Nothing bad,” I muttered, but her eyes and face were etched with concern. “Go give the potatoes to Jasmine and help her sell it. I’ll come soon to pay off my debt.”

  She nodded. “As you wish, Lady Hart.”

  Ophelia left, and that gave me some time to think over my thoughts. The very fact that anyone calling me an Auditor would freak me out was a noticeable flaw, and I hated it. However, work always calmed me down.

  I set my role to be a [Cryotheurge], and slowly worked through the things I had to do.

  I pulled out my Manastone, and held it in my hand. The rock was small and hummed with energy, pulsating in my hand. I could hear the trapped Symphony inside of it, waiting to be cracked and used… or changed.

  I closed my eyes, and forced my Symphony into the stone.

  The howling gale of ice buffeted around me, and my red hair fluttered about. The mare whinnied and her golden eyes darted about, searching for something - anything. Frost and snow coated the crypt stones, before coalescing into a singular point.

  The stormwinds spiraled into the rock, and the dull material started glowing teal. I couldn’t feel the shift against my icy palms, but I had previously been leeching the heat off a stone. Now, we both felt similar in our heat.

  This was the perfect time to look at my new abilities.

  The torches around me flickered in distaste with the growing chill, and the mare shivered as well. I glanced up at her, and then raised my hand.

  Green flows of life extracted itself away from her body, but I redirected it into a vial. I’d need it for the reanimation protocol. Its black hair was coated with frost. The mare herself began to whinny and jerk about in pain, but the process thankfully was quick.

  Bandits, animals, and… I guess the scum of society were things that didn’t bother me. I wanted to consider the hypocrisy and dwell on it, but frankly, I just didn’t care.

  The horse's soul rested atop of my hand, and I had two of them now. I summoned the Zombie Boys from the loam, and pointed at the corpse. The living cadavers twitched erratically, before shuffling over to the body, lifting it up, and dragging it to my preparation room.

  I, however, went to Rhyvesta’s Altar.

  The brazier came to light in its green flames, and I genteelly approached. I gave the brazier a nod, and placed the souls inside.

  I placed the second soul in, and the information was the same. So I touched the floating measures, feeling its essence. Again, it felt like gel, vibrating and squishing under my ministrations.

  I decided to merge the souls, The two uncommon souls came together into one gestalt soul, of [Rare] quality. I could make this masterwork…

  …but I’d also lose the Tenacity. That seemed like a useful thing to have, otherwise, it’d turn out as strange as Laertes was.

  I extracted the Rare soul and left it in a vial, and then went to my preparation room.

  The Zombie boys had placed the horse on the table, and the table also seemed to stretch out so the entire animal was easily placed. I nodded to them, letting them return to whatever Mirchie had them doing, and got to work.

  Unlike Cadence’s body, this one was unblemished. I could easily recreate the blood epoxy I made before, even if it meant limestone. But I also smelled wood vinegar earlier, and if I could make a…

  A laboratory!

  What good [Scholar] didn’t have one? I could spend hours in there mixing chemicals! Money was still tight though, and I’d have to go into being a [Venefician] to start growing herbs for medicine.

  So much to do! I haven’t even been a [Venefician] yet.

  Nonetheless, Wood Vinegar, or Alcohol, was a byproduct of making charcoal. Ma said it was basically pure alcohol, and pure alcohol killed rot really easily. If I made it even purer, I could preserve bodies like an embalmer… and I had all the tools.

  Again, I was on the cutting edge of science and magic! Just a girl from Oakheart!

  I was lost in thought as I recreated the blood epoxy, and then left it to the side. A simple undead horse was boring. I wanted to experiment and test.

  I found the shoulderblades of the creature, and started squeezing the bone. I jutted it out, extending until the skin and bone became mockeries of wings. The horse itself was a massive creature, and even with wings like this, there would be no way it could fly.

  Unless I infused it.

  I had no idea if this was going to work in a way I figured, but the conduit I just created was of frost. Hot air rises, and this thing naturally absorbs heat. Even if it didn’t let it fly, it would make it ice cold, and if it didn’t work out…

  …well, there were always more horses.

  The Zombie Boys pulled the cadaver to the side, and I used my scalpel to cut into its chest. I slit it down the middle, before the blood and guts spilled and drained below. I reached my hand inside to feel the organs, and while I had no general love of butchery, this didn’t feel like anything different than performing surgery.

  Which I haven't done yet, but Levan did, and his memories melded with mine.

  I found the horse's massive heart, and then pulled away. I took out the frost conduit, and slid it inside. It socketed like a gem, and the black body slowly cooled, with threads of frost and snow coating its skin.

  I stitched it back up, and then coated the creature in the blood epoxy. I let it soak, and finally, it was ready.

  The howling sounds of the symphony danced around me, coiling against my hand before pushing into the body. The soul left my inventory, and the stored anima as well. The horse's eyes came back to life, and then glowed a spectral blue. The wings I had grafted from its own bones and flesh began to flap about…

  …and it launched itself off the ground.

  I immediately ducked, as again, this thing came into a panic. I would need to start putting restraints on my creations!

  The flying [Nightmare] approached me, and I immediately pointed my scalpel at it. “Stay away from my hair! I just got it fixed!’

  That calmed the horse down, as it landed on the floor. It still looked around nervously, so I beckoned it to follow me outside.

  Snowball and I waited outside. Snowball chomped on the grass, and I ate the world’s best baked potato with broccoli. It was soft, crisp, and tasted like homemade effort. These would easily sell, and for my next harvest, I’d have to keep some for my dinner date with Adrian and his wife. I guess I’d have to invite Ophelia too, and Noel and Aywin? Am I allowed to invite Aywin?

  I didn’t know. I would still send him an invite… but I’d have to improve my house to even host them.

  Why was there always something new to do? I finished one thing, and was immediately dragged into another complication.

  I didn’t have time to muse, since in the distance, Ophelia and Jasmine approached. Jasmine was chatting at Ophelia, who just tolerated her chitter chatter.

  I got up, and Jasmine ran to me to hug. “Ashy! Your hair is red again! It looks so cute, and it works so well with the dress!”

  “Jazzy!” I returned the embrace. “Yeah. I also made a horse.”

  “What?” Jasmine turned around to see Snowball, who opened its massive wings and blew out a small tuft of frost. “...What?”

  I just held her closer. “I made a horse! Well, I modified one. Did you sell the potatoes by the way?”

  “Yeah! I came to tell you that you should pay off your debt first, and Adrian’s not even counting your imaginary debt, you nutter.” she chided. “Also, I wanted to come with you when you pay it off, and I think we should lease the… The Cockatwice? For a while before we buy it. Otherwise, you’ll have to pay property taxes on two places! I also wanted to manage a bit more for my own quest.”

  “Yeah, sure.” I immediately responded. “Cockatrice though.”

  Ophelia approached the horse. Before she could open her mouth, I quickly said. “That’s for you. I want to know if it can fly.”

  Ophelia glanced at me, but then mounted Snowball. She rubbed its head, and Snowball did not attempt to chew her hair. She was clearly better at handling horses than I was.

  “Hey, Ashy. Remember when you and Addy were eight, and you tried stealing that horse?” Jasmine began.

  I shoved her immediately.

  Ophelia’s legs kicked against Snowball’s side, and the horse rose up. Its black, bat-like wings fluttered, and it flew into the sky.

  “I… kind of want one.” Jasmine watched the two awkwardly fly about, but those movements slowly smoothened into a proper vampire and her steed.

  “You’re willing to ride a dead horse?” I asked, and Jasmine shook her head.

  “Never mind. But tomorrow, you’re spending time with me. And I won’t be taking no for an answer,” she threatened.

  Guess tomorrow was accounted for.