Traebus spent the next several days split between two demanding tasks—establishing a small crop field in the rich soil he had painstakingly created and delving into rudimentary alchemical experiments. The former was grueling, requiring him to carefully plant each newly identified crop in neat rows, ensuring they had enough space to grow. He used his magic sparingly, encouraging the earth to hold moisture and softening patches of stubborn ground. The three-horn, Tank, occasionally meandered nearby, watching with mild interest as Traebus toiled under the sun.


    When his hands were not buried in the dirt, they were occupied with a far more intricate endeavor—alchemy. Traebus had never considered himself a true alchemist, but he had learned enough through necessity and observation to mix tinctures, simple salves, and the occasional poison. He set up a basic workstation inside the house, clearing a section of the stone floor to serve as his temporary lab. Using stone bowls he had carved and a handful of his more delicate tools, he crushed leaves into pastes, boiled roots into thick syrups, and mixed various extracts in small, magically reinforced containers.


    Some attempts were promising. A particular plant he had identified as Bitterleaf proved useful when boiled—it thickened into a gel that, when applied to wounds, seemed to speed up clotting. Another, a fragrant blue herb he dubbed Stormgrass, produced an invigorating tonic when steeped in hot water. However, not all discoveries were pleasant. One of his test mixtures, involving a crimson root with a pungent odor, reacted violently with a bit of fire magic, belching out an acrid, eye-watering smoke that sent him coughing out of the house while Dusk chuffed in amusement.


    Through trial and error, Traebus slowly built a rudimentary knowledge of the local flora’s properties. With Dusk occasionally offering mental images of various plants being used by other creatures—perhaps instinctual knowledge from his kind—Traebus refined his concoctions, labeling stone vials with carved markings to keep track of their effects. The small lizards, ever curious, watched his efforts with rapt attention, occasionally trying to swipe an unattended sample, much to his exasperation.


    By the end of the third day, Traebus had amassed a small collection of useful mixtures—rudimentary healing salves, energy-restoring tonics, and a particularly nasty paralytic paste that, when smeared onto a weapon, could leave a creature sluggish and weak. He held up the last one, turning the vial in his hands with a thoughtful smirk. "Well, well. Look who''s dabbling in alchemy now."


    Dusk flicked an unimpressed mental image of Traebus blowing himself up.


    "That was one time, and it barely counted," he shot back, setting the vial down with care. His work was far from complete. Now, he just needed to see how well these new tools held up in the field.


    Feeling particularly ambitious—or perhaps dangerously overconfident—Traebus decided to push his alchemical experimentation a step further. If simple tinctures and pastes worked well on their own, what would happen if he combined them with magical runes? Surely, reinforcing a paralysis salve with binding glyphs or infusing a healing mixture with stabilizing enchantments would only improve their effectiveness. That was the theory, at least.


    Dusk, sensing the incoming catastrophe, perched nearby with an air of resigned patience. The small lizards, ever the eager audience, huddled at a safe distance, tails twitching in anticipation.


    Traebus carefully selected one of his more promising concoctions—a viscous, greenish tonic meant to enhance stamina—and poured a measured amount onto a flat stone slab. He then grabbed a piece of sharpened bone and etched a runic symbol of amplification beside the pooled liquid. With precise movements, he funneled a trickle of mana into the rune.


    The rune flared to life for exactly two seconds before the mixture hissed violently, expanded like boiling tar, and promptly exploded with the force of an overstuffed bellows. A thick, neon-green plume of smoke engulfed the room, sending Traebus sprawling onto his back, coughing wildly as the acrid vapor assaulted his lungs.


    Dusk let out a deep, exasperated sigh through their bond, sending an unimpressed mental image of Traebus coated in soot. The small lizards, meanwhile, erupted into chaos, scattering in every direction as they trilled in both fear and excitement. One overzealous lizard, in an apparent moment of poor decision-making, took a running leap through the smoke cloud—only to instantly regret it as the fumes clung to its scales, turning it an unnatural shade of lime green.


    Still hacking, Traebus sat up, waving away the smoke. "Okay. Not my best work," he wheezed. "But technically, that was an effect."


    Dusk stared at him, then at the still-glowing rune, and then back at him again before sending an image of a full-scale disaster site.


    "Alright, fine," Traebus muttered, brushing singed soot off his sleeves. "So maybe slapping runes onto alchemy isn’t as simple as it sounds. But in my defense, that should have worked."


    Sparky, who had been absent for the majority of the experiment, chose that exact moment to saunter in. The lightning-scaled lizard took one look at the still-smoking alchemy station, then at Traebus, then at the lizard who had turned an unnatural shade of green. With a flicker of static, he imparted a single concept: Idiots.


    Traebus groaned. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, Sparky. One of these days, I will get this right."


    Dusk exhaled heavily, his frills flicking up before he turned and walked out of the room.


    The lime-green lizard, meanwhile, trilled happily and hopped in place, apparently very excited about its new coloration. It seemed thrilled with the result, even if it had no idea what had actually happened.


    Traebus sighed and set to work cleaning up the chaotic mess left behind. He then stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. He turned toward his newly dug well and water purification system, running through a final checklist to ensure that everything was functioning properly. The carved stone basin was still collecting purified water, the sigils glowing faintly in the daylight as they worked their slow magic. The filtration system appeared stable, the salt being properly siphoned away and deposited into a separate stone trough he had crafted to contain it.


    Traebus knelt beside the basin and scooped up a handful of water, letting it run through his fingers. Clear, fresh, and completely free of salt. A triumphant grin spread across his face. "Finally, something that works exactly as intended. That’s a rare treat."


    Dusk flicked an image of the purification system suddenly failing in some catastrophic way.


    "No," Traebus said immediately, standing up. "This one is not going to explode on me overnight."


    Now that the well was made and water was no longer a significant challenge, Traebus turned his focus to the farm plots. He had a variety of crops to establish—not just edible cereals and grains he had gathered but also the alchemical plants that he had identified for their various properties. With careful precision, he mapped out the available space in neat rows, ensuring there was enough room for each type of plant to thrive without interference.


    Using his magic sparingly, he softened the earth, ensuring it retained moisture while keeping the soil aerated. The work was grueling, requiring hours of careful placement and testing different watering methods. He experimented with irrigation by shaping tiny channels in the soil to direct water flow from the well’s purification basin, allowing a slow and steady hydration method that would prevent overwatering.


    Dusk wandered over, flicking a mental image of the crops growing far faster than expected, something Traebus had been considering himself. If the mana in this world was significantly stronger, did that mean the plants would have an enhanced growth rate? It would require more observation, but the idea of a faster-growing food supply was promising.


    The small lizards were eager to assist—though mostly by digging random holes where they didn’t belong. After the third time filling in a hole dug precisely where he had just planted, Traebus let out a long, exhausted sigh. "You''re very lucky you''re cute. Otherwise, you''d all be dinner."


    The lizards chirped back at him, seemingly unbothered by the threat.


    As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Traebus stepped back to survey his progress. The beginnings of his farm stretched before him, an organized pattern of leafy sprouts and seeded plots waiting to grow. He placed his hands on his hips and nodded in satisfaction.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "Alright, plants. You have one job. Try not to die."


    Now that the farm and well were going, Traebus decided it was time to explore the lower part of the island where the jungle lay untouched. He had been putting it off, but if he wanted to make full use of the island, he needed to see what resources, dangers, or surprises lurked below. Rolling his shoulders, he set his sights on the cliff edge and began carefully carving a stairwell down the side of the rock face.


    Using his magic, he etched wide, sturdy steps into the stone, ensuring they had enough depth to support his weight and that of his companions. The process was slow but methodical, and he made sure to reinforce each step as he went to prevent erosion or structural failure over time. The last thing he needed was for his stairwell to crumble mid-use, sending him or one of the lizards tumbling down into the thick underbrush below.


    Dusk watched from above, flicking a mental image of Traebus slipping and breaking his neck. Traebus scoffed. "I could fall, but then again, you could be helpful and come supervise from the steps instead of from a safe distance like a coward."


    Dusk made no move to approach.


    Traebus sighed and continued chiseling his way downward. The sound of stone scraping against stone echoed around him as he worked, occasionally stopping to catch his breath and reinforce the structure with thin layers of mana to ensure stability. The jungle below remained eerily silent, the dense foliage making it impossible to see what lay beneath the treetops. Every now and then, a distant call or the rustling of leaves reminded him that he was not alone.


    After a solid hour of work, he reached a small natural ledge about halfway down the cliff. It was wide enough to serve as a potential stopping point, or even as a secondary shelter if he ever needed one. He took a moment to survey his progress, wiping sweat from his brow before continuing downward.


    As he carved the final few steps leading into the dense vegetation, he could feel a faint shift in the air. The jungle was humid, thick with the scent of damp earth and unfamiliar flora. Shadows stretched beneath the trees, hiding whatever lurked within. He exhaled slowly and placed his hands on his hips, surveying his work.


    "Alright, jungle. Let''s see what you''ve got."


    Traebus, Sparky, and Dusk descended carefully into the dense foliage of the lower section of the island, their movements slow and deliberate. The stairwell Traebus had carved led them directly into a thick jungle, its canopy so dense that only thin shafts of sunlight managed to filter through. The air was noticeably warmer here, humid and heavy with the scent of wet earth, blooming flowers, and something faintly sweet that Traebus couldn’t immediately identify.


    Sparky zipped ahead, darting between tree trunks and leaping from low-hanging branches, his body a flickering blur of yellow and white. The lightning-infused lizard seemed to relish the shaded environment, his natural agility making him almost invisible as he scouted ahead. Dusk, on the other hand, moved with calculated grace, flickering in and out of shadows, his presence more of a whisper than a tangible form.


    Traebus, in stark contrast, was neither swift nor silent. His boots crunched against the damp ground, his breath steady but audible. He wasn’t built for jungle travel, and after the first twenty minutes, he was convinced that the jungle had it out for him. Vines seemed to grasp at his arms, roots conspired to trip him, and the occasional unseen insect made its displeasure known by biting him at the worst possible moments.


    “Fantastic,” he muttered, rubbing at an itchy welt forming on his arm. “Nature hates me. Noted.”


    Despite the thick vegetation, nothing immediately hostile revealed itself. He had half-expected some hidden predator to be lying in wait, but the lower section of the island was oddly peaceful. That, in itself, put him slightly on edge.


    After another hour of slow progress, they emerged from the jungle onto a wide, short beach of black sand. The ocean stretched out before them in an endless expanse, waves rolling in with rhythmic, soothing crashes. The contrast between the dense, almost oppressive jungle and the open, serene shoreline was startling.


    Dusk flicked a mental image at him—empty, no danger, quiet.


    Traebus nodded, glancing around. “Yeah, but quiet can also mean something’s watching and waiting for us to let our guard down.” He surveyed the beach, noting that the sand here was finer than on the main shoreline. The grains glistened slightly in the light, and with a little magic, he could sense the presence of trace minerals in the sand.


    He knelt, scooping a handful of it into his palm. Running his fingers through it, he hummed thoughtfully. “Interesting. There’s a lot of iron content in this. If I can extract it properly, I might be able to use it for something.”


    Dusk flicked a concept at him—useful?


    “Oh yeah, very.” Traebus dusted his hands off and stood, stretching. “This place might be a goldmine. Or an iron mine. Whatever. Point is, we should definitely keep this on our minds.”


    Sparky trilled from further down the beach, kicking up sand as he investigated something near the water’s edge. With a flick of his tail, he sent an image of bones to Traebus, piquing his curiosity.


    “Great,” Traebus sighed. “Something was here.” He motioned for Dusk to follow as they made their way toward Sparky, wondering just what exactly had called this hidden shoreline home before them. As they approached, Sparky hopped excitedly around a partially buried shape in the sand, trilling insistently. Traebus frowned, stepping closer and crouching down to brush away the loose grains. At first, he thought it was just another pile of driftwood or perhaps the remains of an old predator kill.


    But as more of the structure was revealed, a cold chill ran down his spine. The bones were far too symmetrical, too deliberate in their shape. A ribcage, long and narrow, with delicate arm bones curled inward. A skull, half-buried, was unmistakably shaped for intelligence—rounded, with deep eye sockets and a defined jaw.


    His breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t an animal.


    It was a humanoid skeleton.


    Dusk flicked an impression of confusion and curiosity, while Sparky, ever oblivious to the weight of the discovery, pounced on one of the exposed finger bones and tossed it into the air like a toy.


    "Okay," Traebus breathed, swallowing hard. "This just got very interesting."


    With meticulous care, Traebus set about fully uncovering the skeleton, brushing away sand with his hands while keeping an exasperated eye on Sparky, who was way too interested in the loose bones. Every time the lizard snatched at one, Traebus swatted him away with a scolding, "No! We do not play fetch with ancient remains!"


    Sparky chirped in protest but relented, flicking a mental image of disappointment at him.


    As he worked, Traebus uncovered more unsettling details. Scraps of fabric clung stubbornly to the bones—fragments of a long-disintegrated outfit. The fibers were worn and brittle but unmistakably manufactured, not natural. Someone—some being—had worn clothes, which meant intelligence, civilization, or at the very least, an understanding of modesty. That realization sent a small shiver up his spine.


    "Well, congratulations, whoever you were," Traebus muttered as he carefully lifted a piece of rib free from the sand. "You''re officially the second smartest thing I''ve met in this world. The first being me, obviously."


    Dusk flicked a doubtful feeling his way.


    "Oh, don''t give me that. I don''t see you inventing magical water purifiers or building a bridge across death waters, do I?" He sat back on his heels, running a hand through his hair as he examined the remains more closely. "No weapons, no tools. No obvious signs of injury. So what killed you, huh? Old age? Disease? A really bad decision?"


    Sparky, still unimpressed by the gravity of the situation, trilled and reached for a femur. Traebus shot him a glare. "Try it, and I swear I''ll enchant your scales pink for a week."


    The lightning-lizard hesitated, then slowly retracted his claws. Victory.


    With the skeleton fully unearthed and no further immediate clues as to its demise, Traebus leaned back, exhaling heavily. "Alright, mystery skeleton. You are officially on my list of weird things to stress about later. Right now, I need to figure out what to do with you. Bury you? Leave you? Try and talk to your ghost? Eh, knowing my luck, you''d probably be a ghost."


    Dusk flicked an image of extreme disapproval at that last suggestion.


    "Yeah, yeah, no necromancy. Got it. Still, this changes things." He glanced toward the distant jungle, his mind already spinning with possibilities. "It means, at some point, something like me existed here. Maybe still does. And that? That means I''m not as alone in this world as I thought."


    Traebus instructed Dusk and Sparky to search the small beach for anything that doesn’t look natural—tools, items, anything that could provide a clue. The two lizards split up, noses to the ground as they combed through the sand with a mix of curiosity and caution.


    Sparky, always excitable, darted back and forth along the shoreline, kicking up small bursts of sand with every bound. He flicked images to Traebus—broken shells, driftwood, the occasional crab that quickly scuttled away. Nothing useful. Meanwhile, Dusk moved with more calculated precision, his movements slow and deliberate as he scanned the area for anything out of place.


    Traebus himself carefully sifted through the sand near the skeleton, hoping to find something—anything—that might offer a clue as to who or what this humanoid had been. He ran his hands through the grains, letting the coarse black sand slip between his fingers. He could feel tiny flecks of mineral, small metallic shavings embedded in the sediment.


    Then, Dusk found something.


    The large lizard flicked an urgent mental image of something partially buried near the water’s edge. A shape, small and rounded, barely visible beneath the sand.


    Traebus hurried over, kneeling beside his companion. With careful hands, he dug around the object, brushing away the loose sand until he revealed what appeared to be a small, metallic disc. It was weathered and tarnished but unmistakably shaped by intelligent hands.


    A coin.


    His breath hitched as he picked it up, turning it over between his fingers. The edges were smooth but worn, the faintest trace of an engraving barely visible beneath the corrosion. His heart pounded. This was proof—undeniable proof—that someone, *somewhere*, had lived here. Or at the very least, had passed through.


    Dusk sent a wave of curiosity and expectation, his frills lifting slightly as he watched Traebus examine the artifact.


    “Yeah,” Traebus murmured, rolling the coin in his palm. “This just got a *lot* more interesting.”


    Sparky trilled from further down the beach, waving his tail excitedly. He had found something too.


    Traebus sighed. “Of course you did. Alright, let’s see what else this place is hiding.”