The Girl Who Hacked The Magic System

I don’t know how long I have been walking. Sometimes I sat for a bit to recover my strength and my mana, before I set walking again.

A cool breeze comes from the south, steadily coming from the southern ocean and rushing north. How do I know that? Because Mimby taught it to me.

This time of the year, that’s one of the few ways to find your bearings in this wasteland during the nights that are darkened by the clouds this same wind brings.

I sent a silent thought of thanks to her, the foxkin that was captured by adventurers and sold as a slave in the city.

Adventurers. The word has a ring to it that comes from an entire life playing tabletop RPGs and videogames.

But in the last seven years, I’ve heard enough tales to completely twist the meaning of it for me. Tales of trauma and suffering, of rape and slavery.

It’s probably because I was raised in a women’s world, and almost all of the women there were beastkin, the only exceptions being me, my mother, and the eventual elf or dwarf.

Elves and dwarves were normally sold quickly. They fetched a good amount of money when sold, or at least that’s what was told to me. I’m not sure I want to understand the economics of slavery myself, so whatever.

So all stories about adventurers came from the beastkin point of view. The pov of those who were oppressed and enslaved throughout the land, within every human nation on this world.

But my mother had also been an adventurer in her youth. So I guess not all adventurers are the same, and the girls that ended up in the slave den were just the ones that met the wrong kind?

In any case, the patrol will probably try to find me during the day. They won’t risk going out at night just for a slave.