Sporemageddon

Sir Nibbles was only too happy to oblige, sinking his little claws into my shirt and wrapping himself around my waist. I probably looked a little strange, especially since the panbadger was getting big.

He was firmly in his 'adolescent' phase. Stretched out, he was nearly four feet from tail-tip to snout, but the tail was doing some heavy lifting there. Mostly, he was as large as one of those medium-sized dogs, and as fierce as a starving lion.

Fat, too. The Academy had had a wealth of leftovers, and Sir Nibbles had enjoyed those terribly. I'd have to find a way to get him to exercise some more. Maybe let him fend for himself in the slums?

He used to be able to hunt mice and the like. Now I was pretty sure larger mammals were on his menu.

Grabbing my bags up again, I started towards the slums.

They'd grown, pushing out from one district into another as the number of people without stable homes grew. Some areas that had been... maybe not nice but at least not terrible, were now becoming slums as well.

It was like watching some giant, tumorous growth appear. First normal apartments would be subdivided and split, then someone would extend a roof, add some stairs, add a second floor to a building, then a third above that.

Each extension was more rickety and poorly planned than the last, more prone to fire, and ready to house people who were increasingly desperate. It was like stacking tinder.

My home was deep, deep within. Past the still-lively outer edge of the slums, and into the spaces where the slums had grown darker, more moldy. A lot of homes here had collapsed under their own mass. More had burned down, and while a lot of the burned wrecks had been reclaimed and their skeletons used as the foundation for a new layer of slums, there were still patches that were untouched. "Hey, you, kid."

I stopped, half-turning to see the person who'd addressed me.

A man, scrawny, too-thin. Dirty coat that probably kept him warm enough in this cool-ish weather, mud-stained pants, and for whatever reason, a bright red scarf. "Yes?" I asked. Then I cleared my throat. "Yea?"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

This was home. No need to affect a pretty, posh accent.

"What're you carrying there, boy?" he asked with a vague nod at my backpack and the luggage next to me.

"Books and clothes and stuff that's none of your business," I replied.

He licked chapped lips, and I could see the math spark in his eyes. Yeah, this was turning into a mugging. And then the knife came out. It looked like a chef's knife that had been chipped a few times too many.

"How about you drop all that, huh?" he asked.

I sighed. People these days. Once, a younger me would have turned tail and run, but I wanted this stuff. Enough that I was maybe willing to fight for it, to a small degree. The curse of materialism, or whatever.

"No," I said.

Then I blasted him in the face with [Blight]. The spell wasn't super-fast to kill, and it wasn't terribly subtle, but those were good things, because more than anything else, [Blight] brought rot, and having the skin of your face rot away in a matter of minutes hurt.

The man screamed, hands going to his face, and I turned and started walking with a bit more alacrity.

Sir Nibbles grumbled. "Don't worry, you were plan B," I said. "For badger, you see?"

Muggers were often quick to use the threat of violence, and they were sometimes willing to kill, but often they weren't ready for violence in return.

Might have been a strange analogy for nobility. Or maybe it was just a comment on human nature.

In any case, I moved faster, slipping around a few corners that I was very familiar with, then up a ramp to the upper levels of the slums.

The smog was pretty rough today, the air stinking of detergent and ammonia and something more foul, like burning plastic. I had a mask, somewhere in my things, but not on hand. Maybe I'd gotten too used to living in the nicer parts of the city.

Eventually, I made it to my farm. I wasn't surprised when I found it guarded. Two young women were standing out front, both of them sitting on the sort of park bench that should have been found along the main thoroughfares of the city, but which had somehow ended up here.

"Hey," I called out. "Come and help me with this? It's heavy as shite."

The girls looked up, and both grinned on seeing me. Willow, a tough, no-nonsense wall of a girl, and her little sister, Daisy.

They were both only in their early teens, but they had been working for me for about two years now. I knew that they could both handle themselves in a scrap, too.

Willow came over and easily took one of the bags that had been weighing me down. "Good to see you again, boss! How was school?"

"Educational," I settled on before I started peppering them with questions. How was business, the neighbourhood, how were they?

It did a boss well to make sure that their employees were in good shape.

Mine... more or less were. They had access to cheap but nutritious food, an okay amount of pay, and some minor healing from some of the health-boosting mushrooms I grew.

More importantly, my little business was in tight with Ratesco's Union. That meant a lot in some places.

Sometimes I wish it meant more, because I'd almost been mugged a few minutes ago anyway.

I checked in on the farm, and was happy to see that it was still running well. I'd left detailed instructions with Bet on how to keep it going, and visited at least once a month to keep everything healthy.

I suspected that the blessing that Feronie had put on the place at my asking was slowly wearing away, but that was fine.

Dropping off most of my stuff, including the books I'd permanently borrowed and my 'school clothes' I picked up a bag, then headed out, thanking Willow and Daisy for their work.

Next stop was home, where I imagined I'd be having a rather awkward conversation with my mother. I already knew how this conversation was going to go, and I wasn't looking forward to it in the least, but... she wasn't a bad woman, or a terrible mother, and she deserved to say her piece just as I was going to say mine.

I sighed. No one would be happy in the end.

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