A natural Ability to do Something

As the days passed, Eleanor largely regained her strength, both physical and mental. Though it certainly wasn't easy getting her back into shape. Food is still scarce, and now, with yet another mouth to feed, I certainly had to pick up the pace.

Sadly, as I've found out by now, a big score like a dagger is something rather rare; I've only managed to swipe 3 more since the first. With that in mind, I had to settle for smaller things, those the old man didn't want to trade me for. So I just took their food directly, cut out the middleman and all that.

In response to these widespread thefts, they've begun putting together patrols; someone always stays back and watches their turf while the others work. They even employ makeshift traps using charms made of spare wood, all to the end of catching that thieving little rat, me. So excursions there are only getting harder.

Thankfully, Isha and I are only getting craftier ourselves. But I wouldn't want Eleanor even close to there now. She might be a smart kid, but she doesn't have her own convenient ghost to help her navigate safely. I'll have to find something less dangerous for her to do; maybe she could take over the cleaning. I get the feeling she's become a bit calmer and more mature now. At least as much as one can expect from a 10-year-old kid. I suppose it's true; adversity does feed growth...

What worries me most, however, isn't Eleanor; she's doing way better after all now. Mother, however, only seems to get sicker. She immediately took to Eleanor, treating the girl like her own daughter. But I alone am unable to feed three people, two of them going through growth spurts, I might add. So she's picking up my slack again.

First she sacrificed her health to raise me, and now, the idiot that I am, I've brought the next burden into our household. Her coughing hasn't gotten any better. She's having dizzy spells now as well. She tries her very best to act tough in front of me, of course, but I can tell.

I've tried to ask for entry into the mine, but the guards just laughed at me, asking me what I'd be good for down there. Sadly they are right; working the mine is hard, body-destroying labour requiring physical strength, the one thing my sad 8-year-old body doesn't have. Now said guards always look at me funny when I go to the market.

Going there whenever we need anything that can’t be ‘acquired’ elsewhere, doing the market runs is now my duty. I need to give Mother as much time to rest as possible after all, and Eleanor, they might recognise and decide to dish out some overdue punishments. I am the only sensible choice here really.

One such day, however, I was greeted by bad news:

"Due to a delay on the deliveries, the price of vegetables has doubled for the foreseeable future."

That is what the familiar accountant said to me. Though today he was wearing a green robe, this is still unmistakably Factor Jesha. Being here quite often now, I've come to learn that a 'Factor' is apparently a higher rank within that merchants' guild. The other accountants here aren't on that level; he's basically akin to a middle manager of this entire operation.

But back to the important things, he can't be serious, can he? He's price gouging us slaves? Does he want us all to die of vitamin deficiency? I thought, being a merchant and all, he'd understand that if he wants to profit from morally questionable practices like slavery, it'd be prudent to at least try and keep his slaves alive longer.

Trying my hardest to keep all that frustration to myself, I place double the usual amount on the counter.

"Just give me your pig iron; I'll sort out the correct amount myself..."

He stops mid-sentence. He looks at me with an expression I'd judge as puzzled, maybe? Did I do something wrong? Did he want to show me the correct amount that badly?

"What's 8 times 6?"

Is that a trick question? I'm pretty sure those veggies don't cost that much...

"48?"

"And what's 17 times 6?"

What does this man want from me?

"102?"

He nods to himself.

"Guards, escort that child to the back room."

He gets back to work. What the hell? I am immediately dragged away by one of the guards towards a doorway behind the counter. I don't resist, for what good would it do at that point?

Through the corridor, I am led towards that ominous back room. I just hope this is not some kind of weird euphemism for their torture chamber. These worries prove themselves unfounded rather quickly, though; this new room I am led into is just something akin to an office, most likely that of Jesha.

"Don't try anything funny! If you touch anything in here at all, you'll be losing your hands."

Leaving me with these encouraging words, the guard leaves the room, locking the door behind him. While touching is expressly forbidden to me, having a look around won't hurt.

"Be a dear, Isha, and inform me when someone comes."

With a silent acknowledgement, she vanishes behind the closed door. Now for the room. Centred, another desk. There are stains of ink seeped into the wood; someone's been writing quite a lot here. In the corner, a small bed. Looks rather ordinary, but still leagues better than anything available in the slum. The windows are barred; there's no getting out there even if I tried.

The most interesting thing in this entire room to me, however, is the mirror sitting in the corner. While I know roughly what I look like, I can't say I'm not curious. Taking a closer look at myself, I see now why Eleanor mistook me for a girl. I look extremely androgynous and am quite the looker to boot. If I were to wear a cute summer dress, put on some makeup and...

"𝑆𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙~"

One wouldn't be remiss to think I'm one. Those elven genes from Mother are sure pulling their weight. I hereby officially thank you, Mother, for being pretty. Though with me looking almost like a copy of her, I wonder what traits I've got from my estranged father...

"The merchant is coming down the hall."

That would be my cue to stand cluelessly and slightly frightened in the centre of the room. Doing so, I await the arrival of my would-be kidnapper. Not much later, Jesha enters the room, taking his place at the desk and now looking me in the eye.

"Do you know what that is?"

Of course I do know what the abacus you are currently holding up is. My gut feeling, however, tells me I should be more careful to not let things slip when talking with this man. Though with him starting our conversation like this, I have a pretty good guess as to what he wants from me...

"No, I do not..."

"That is a tool to do difficult calculations quickly. One I use daily for my job. I'd like to know how a child of your age is able to do arithmetic already. Without any tools to boot."

So that's his angle here. I get him; children brought up in the slums should be extremely bad with numbers, lacking any education. He probably often has to deal with children doing errands; that's why he immediately wanted me to just hand over all the money and just give back my change. A man that values efficiency like him would prefer that to waiting until they figure it out themselves. To him I am an anomaly; I intrigue him. Now to give him a plausible answer...

"My mother taught me."

"Did she teach you how to read and write as well?"

"No, she did not."

He appears to be thinking again.

"You seem to have an aptitude for numbers; how would you like to use it?"

Is he offering me a job? That would be terrific, actually! A desk job would be perfect right about now. But for that I would need to be taught how to write this language. Let's leave the ball in his court. I slightly tilt my head and look at him puzzled.

"I would find use for an assistant, especially if they could already do calculations."

Either he wants to cheap out on paying someone their worth, or there is truly a shortage of those with talent around here. No matter which one of the two proves to be the case, just as he wants to use me, I can use him. Now to put it on thick...

"But what good would an assistant that can't read be..."

"I'd be willing to teach you. If you prove your worth, I'll even give you a bit of iron for your work. Though know if you break my trust in any way, you will be punished severely. Are we clear?"

Oh Jesha, you think you're the one getting the good end of this deal. Little do you know I couldn't ask for anything more. Being taught to read and write and getting paid for it, and to top it all off, I get to use you for information. I think we'll make each other very happy indeed.

"Please teach me, Factor Jesha!"

"That will be Master Jesha to you, child. While you are under my tutelage, I expect nothing but perfection."

"Of course, Master Jesha."

That very evening he started teaching me, beginning with the numbers of this world. Thankfully they also use a decimal system, so it was only a matter of memorising the new numbers. After that he explained how they do their bookkeeping here, clearly prepping me to do the very same work he does at the counter in front.

While the language does have quite a few more letters than I am used to, I'll get the hang of it in time, I'm sure. Not just how to do this work, the language or the numbers. But also how I can use him to gain an upper hand on this entire city...