Chapter 8: Chapter 8 – More severance pay

Fayette walked back through the tunnel, but stopped once she noticed a particular annoyance. That damned box had been left right there, unattended in the middle of the tunnel. She considered trying to pry it open, but the thing seemed sturdy, it would probably be beyond her. Shaking her head, she continued on. Just what is inside that blasted thing? Now I’ve gotten all curious about it.

She found the mansion in a state of bustle. The survivors had grieved for their time, but once Bernhard had returned with the news, more practical matters had come to the front. No one was in charge of the place anymore—a mansion full of riches and treasures. It would be shame to just leave it all there... right? Someone had to take care of it all.

A silent agreement had passed, and the survivors had come to a unanimous decision: It was time to loot the place for all it was worth.

Fayette was a bit late to the party, having spent some time going over the [Lord's] belongings. She even had a suspicion that Bernhard had hurried back so fast just so he could secure first pickings.

Not that Fayette could have stopped the [Guard Captain] from taking what he wanted—she did not quite dare oppose the man. The mansion still had plenty for her anyways. A lot of the manor’s valuables were behind locks only the [Lord] could open, but Fayette had figured out methods to clear a few.

She knew from experience what types of locks the different storages used, and a few of them were not too difficult to break into.

An idea on how to break into one particular storage had come to her as she was leaving the clearing. After frisking the [Lord], she had cut off the fingertip of his right thumb. Now she fished out the fingertip from the napkin she had stored it in.

With it in hand, she went to a certain corner in the manor’s master bedroom. She cleared the dust on the wall a bit, then pushed the fingertip onto a wooden panel that looked just like any other piece of the wall.

Ordinary in all ways except the frequency with which Fayette had to clear oily thumbprints from that spot, that was.

A magical glow began to shine out from behind the panel, and Fayette watched with anticipation as it came off wholesale, revealing a small space inside. I never did find out what this place actually held. Hopefully this is the secret treasure hoard or something.

Instead of the mountains of money she had hoped for, the insides held only a plain leather bag. Fayette however was not disappointed, as she recognized what she was looking at. A [Bag of Holding]!

Fayette took it out full of excitement, then pried it open. It was her first time actually using one of them, so she was surprised to see only a black void within. Puzzled, she tried to peer through, but no light could penetrate the barrier.

Fayette did not see any other options, so she thrust her hand inside and felt around. She could feel a lot of flat pieces of wood and rolled cloth, but not any obvious treasures.

Confused, she pulled one of the pieces out, revealing an abstract painting depicting some confusing scene of geometric shapes. Fayette grimaced, then investigated more. She pulled out more things from the bag, but all she found was more paintings.

What is this? Was the [Lord] collecting ugly paintings, or are these for some illicit trade deal? There’s no way it would fly if a [Maid] just showed up trying to peddle a mountain of paintings like this...

Still, the bag itself was valuable and useful enough on its own—anything inside would have only been a bonus. Fayette took the bag and affixed it over one of the many pockets on her apron. I'll call this my [Apron of Holding]!

She used the same fingerprint method for a few other choice spots and managed to find herself a few [Potions of Healing]—valuable finds indeed. Usually only [Rulers], [Mages] and particularly influential Hunters could have access to those. Oh, [Potions of Minor Healing] were plentiful enough, but the difference in potency was so stark that it was almost insulting to consider them the same class of item.

She also cleared away a good chunk of money—enough Livres to last her for quite a while if she was patient with it. She had to be careful though, suspicions of thievery would be troublesome to handle.

Fayette longed for a good cleaning session just to get all the grime off her, but could not get herself to use any of the bathing facilities at the mansion. It just felt wrong to clean oneself in a place so sullied with blood and death. Instead, she lightly splashed some water on herself from the washing basin to get the worst of the blood off—further washing would have to wait.

Fayette stopped to look over a rack of swords as she walked from the washing basin back to the manor proper in search of more loot. In a way the swords called to her—she had found out today that she did have a certain aptitude for killing. Fayette didn’t think she could be just any normal [Maid] ever again.

She experimentally picked one of the swords up and swung it about, but it felt all wrong. Fayette was still a [Maid] after all, and what kind of [Maid] would brandish swords like this? It did not feel right. She set it back down, then walked off to the nearby cleaning cupboard from where she chose a particularly sturdy broom.

It felt a lot better in her hand. Compared to the sword, she felt... complete. It was almost as if her class itself was thrumming with approval at handling the tool. I have skills that can make use of a broom, so perhaps it is natural that this is what I should use.

Experimentally, she tried putting it inside her brand new [Apron of Holding], and to her joy she found it fit quite snugly into the bag. This is so handy, now I can bring all my cleaning tools with me wherever I go!

Filled with excitement, Fayette crammed almost half the cleaning cupboard into her [Apron of Holding], before she remembered that this was perhaps not the most urgent thing to loot. Oh, right. Money and magical tools and stuff.

She jumped off and went back to work.

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Bernhard had been rather methodical and fast in his looting, and the other survivors had chosen to leave the place together with him. Their looting had been frantic but bountiful—they even found an additional survivor. One of the [Cooks] had hidden himself in the freezer, and apparently, the cold-blooded kobolds had not been too keen on venturing inside the ice-cold room.

The man was shocked to find the mansion in utter ruins with the vast majority of the servants dead, and only managed to stare around blankly in shock as the others had continued with their work. They left soon afterwads, all as one group. Fayette however didn’t go with them and lingered behind. Soon she was alone in the desolate mansion.

She did not really find much else of value she could take with her—the others had been thorough. A lot of the stuff was set with distinctive heraldry, making fencing it off discreetly a tall task. Much of the wealth of the manor was also in cumbersome objects: glorious chandeliers, fine mahogany chairs and elegant crystal vases. Not really something she could spirit away.

Walking through the lifeless and destroyed halls filled Fayette with a melancholy. She had spent three long years cleaning these corridors. Seeing the shredded wallpapers, broken flooring and lifeless corpses made her realize again just how much had been lost.

In a way, she felt strangely possessive of the place.

Soon word would go out, and some other fool would be sent here to man the place. New servants would be brought in, the halls would be repaired and then redecorated to fit a new image. Fayette... did not like that idea. Did some random guy who had never even been in the place before really have more of a claim to ownership than she did?

She began to feel annoyed. Annoyed that the place had been reduced to such a state, annoyed that some fool would take it all. She looked at the corpses that had been left here, and she also felt annoyed that not everyone would get a proper burial. Not all families would have the coin to arrange one.

An idea bloomed in her mind. Maybe I should do a proper send-off for the place. Just burn it all down.

Fayette honestly found the idea rather inviting. The feeling of throwing down a torch and walking off to a new future as the old one burned behind her—it spoke to her. She was a bit of a romantic with things like this.

Enthralled, Fayette set off and began gathering a variety of flammable materials. Liquors, dry firewood, newspapers... She gathered it all and began building a grand pyre in the main entrance hall. She poured down a trail of oil from the pyre to the outside of the manor, then turned to look back at the mansion.

Normally at this time, the oil lights outside the manor would be swaying in the wind and a soft light would shine out from the windows, hinting at the life inside. Now all that remained was a hollow husk, silent and lifeless. Even the birds seemed to be avoiding the manor, not making one bit of sound. Only the soft autumn wind rustling through the trees woke Fayette from her reverie—she shuddered as she felt the cold touch on the back of her neck.

Resolved, she lit a match, then tossed it onto the end of the oil trail. Flames lit out and, in an instant, advanced inside the manor. Fayette could hear all the flammable materials inside roar to life and saw a bright orange glow shine out from the windows—a last, brilliant gasp of life from a dead husk.

Without waiting, Fayette turned around and walked off.

It was time to head to the village, see her friend, get freshened up, and then get rested. After that... What should I be doing after all this?

She did not know what the future would bring, but of one thing she was sure. She would never again carelessly subordinate herself to a [Ruler]. That feeling of being controlled, stripped of her will... she did not want to feel it again. Can I ever again trust someone with that kind of power? I won't be naive again.

In a way, her class felt a bit incomplete right now. A [Maid] without a master, without a household... something was missing. When she had first gotten the class, Fayette had dreamed of serving a beatiful [Lady], attending to elegant tea-parties and dressing her master in fancy clothes. Reality had been different. Something in that dream still called to her, but Fayette shook it off.

No, it would be too risky, wouldn't it? I'll need to think about this. Can a [Maid] go about things alone? Without a master? I'll at least give it a try.

Fayette felt at the broom in her hand and knew that she would not be an ordinary [Maid] anymore. The broom felt different than it had just this morning—heavier. She had a feeling that her future would involve a lot more cracking skulls, and in a way, she was looking forward to it.

By all measures it had been a horrifying day, but despite that, Fayette found herself smiling. The lives she had ended, the pyre burning behind her, the blank future she was facing...

It all felt so clean.

 

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