Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The City of Productivity

Agatha was found in the desert by a caravan, her body malnourished and dehydrated. They took her to the nearest city for medical care. When she awoke weeks later, she was in a hospital room in the city of Opus. Beside her bed stood a man dressed in fine black silk.

“I’m here to inform you of the costs for the medical care we provided,” declared the man before reading the bill. “For the water used to rehydrate you: 400 aurums. For the bed and room you occupied for approximately fourteen days, ten hours, thirty minutes, and fifty… one seconds: 1,608.23 aurums. For the salts and minerals used to restore your health: 150 aurums.Which gives us a total of 2,158.23 aurums,” he concluded.

“But I don’t live here, I don’t even have any money,” replied Agatha. “Besides, I didn’t ask to be treated here. Why are you charging me for something I didn’t request?”

“We took the liberty of making the decision for you, as you were about to die. That will be 2,158”

“I heard you the first time! And I told you, I can’t pay,” Agatha snapped. “Who even are you? You show up and immediately start listing off some supposed debt, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. I just woke up!”

“My sincerest apologies. I was inconsiderate. My name is Trudo, debt collector for the crown,” the man explained. “But don’t worry. If you don’t have money, you can pay us with something of equal value.”

“But the only thing I have is this sword,” said Agatha, reaching for the weapon beside her bed.

“A sword of iron? That’s hardly valuable here. After all, Opus, in the Kingdom of Schism, is renowned for its iron mines,” Trudo said with an annoyingly smug tone. “Still, it has some value, so I’ll accept it as partial payment. But our offer is different. We only ask that you pay with a bit of your time.”

“My time?” asked Agatha, confused, handing over her sword with a sorrowful expression.

“Exactly! We just want you to extract enough iron from our mines to match the value of your debt.”

“If that’s all I have to do, then I accept,” said Agatha after a moment’s deliberation.

“Perfect!” Trudo exclaimed, rising from his seat with the sword in hand. “You can start immediately. Let me show you your bed in the barracks and where you’ll be mining.”

“But I just woke up after a long period of recovery, I’m not in any condition for strenuous labor,” Agatha protested.

“What? Since when do you know the principles of medical science to make such a diagnosis?”

Agatha said nothing, stunned as the man’s previously kind face turned to one of contempt.

“While you’re there lying around ‘recovering,’ that bed can’t be used by others who truly need it. Stop being selfish and come fulfill your duty.”

“Yes… sir,” Agatha replied meekly, eyes downcast.

She struggled to rise, stumbling as she walked on shaky legs, barely managing to follow Trudo to the barracks, ramshackle structures built from warped, weathered wood. The bunks looked like they’d collapse under the weight of a feather, blankets were torn and stank, and pillows stained yellow and brown with substances Agatha didn’t want to guess.

After showing her, the barracks, Trudo led her to the mine, pointed out the pickaxes and the area she was to work in, then left without a word of farewell.

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Resigned to her fate, Agatha began mining iron despite her feeble body. Over time, she witnessed the dehumanizing treatment of the workers: guards beating those who resisted, others injured by brittle, moldy pickaxes with splintered wooden handles.

But nothing disturbed Agatha as much as the collapse caused by falling wooden beams, crushing a section of the mine still filled with workers. Their screams and the sound of bones being pulverized haunted her nightmares.

“Not again. The corpses are going to stink up the whole place,” said an old man working nearby.

“Shouldn’t we evacuate the mine?” asked Agatha, her voice shaking.

“Maybe if this were a normal job. But the foreman doesn’t think a mere cave-in is a good enough reason to stop making profits,” the old man muttered curses.

“He sounds like an idiot,” Agatha replied dryly.

They exchanged a grim laugh before a guard shouted at them to get back to work.“Look at us, laughing while a tragedy just happened in front of us.”

“That’s this job. The mine exposes us to constant disasters. Death here is routine. In time, it changes how you see the world. Death stops being the end of life, it’s just a hiccup on the road of production. It’s a horrible way to see the world, don’t you think?” He paused and looked at Agatha. She returned a somber gaze.

“Yes. The things I’ve seen, the pain I’ve felt since that day… I think it changed me deeply. Now I see these deaths as mere drops in an ocean,” Agatha said, mournful.

“Events like that strip away the value of human life. Individuals stop mattering… as if they’re disposable. Every life here,” he gestured broadly, “could disappear tomorrow, and no one would care. That shouldn’t be how we relate to each other.”

“I agree.”

“Then you understand how tragic our situation is.”

“I think I do.”

“What if I told you I had a way to escape?”

“Why would I want to escape? I just have to work a few days to pay off my debt.”

“That’s what they told all of us. But that magical day when we’re finally freed never comes. They either find excuses to keep increasing your debt, or they just force you to keep working.”

“Why would they do that?”

“To get cheap labor. Why else?”

Agatha stared at him, dumbfounded. Desperate for answers, she looked around for a guard, and when she spotted one, she marched straight up to him and yelled, her voice laced with urgency:

“I want to see Trudo! I need to speak with that bastard right now!”

“Silence! Workers don’t have the right to see the boss.”

“But I just saw him a moment ago!”

“Then you don’t need to see him again. Now get back to work!” the guard ordered, shoving Agatha with his arm.

“See what I mean?”

At the rhetorical question from the old man, Agatha simply went back to striking the iron.

“What are you doing?” the old man asked.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m doing my duty,” Agatha replied sharply.

After all, this is what someone as despicable and worthless as me deserves, she thought as she worked in silence.

“Please listen to me!” the old man begged. “You have to reconsider. We need someone as skilled and strong as you to ensure our plan’s success.”

“Why would you need a cowardly, pathetic knight like me? I couldn’t even fulfill my duty!”

“I can see it in the way you use the pickaxe. You’d be the most capable in a real combat situation.”

“My pickaxe technique tells you that?”

“I can see it in your stance. The way you guide the pick with your whole body. You don’t grip it with brute force, but with a gentle firmness, delivering clean, precise strikes that bring out the best in the stone.”

Agatha noticed that the pile of iron she had mined was much larger than anyone else’s.

“So what do you want from me, then?” Agatha asked exhaustion in her voice.

“We’re collecting small pieces of iron to forge a sword and make our escape.”

“You’re only making one sword?”

“One sword, held by such a skilled swordswoman, is all we need. Besides, we don’t have the materials to make more, at least not without the guards noticing.”

“Did it not occur to you that maybe I’m not strong enough to help you escape?”

“All you need to do is stab us in non-lethal places. You must have the knowledge to manage that.”

“What!?”

“They only care about us if we can work. If we’re injured and unable to do that, we’re of no use to them, and they’ll let us go.”

“That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard,” Agatha declared, and with that, resumed working.

“If wounding was all it took, it’d be easy, but we’d still be prisoners in this kingdom. We need to be in good enough condition to escape completely.”

Agatha turned to face the old man and continued speaking.

“Maybe I don’t have to do all the work alone. Maybe we can avoid the guards, or beat them together.”

“What!?” the old man exclaimed in astonishment.

“I’ll train you all well enough to stand a chance.”

“That could work. Our combined strength is greater than any of us alone.”

I couldn’t defend my own home, but I will defend theirs, Agatha thought.