《Coalescence of Two Lifetimes》 Second Death - Cilen Click, click-click.... The sound of rhythmic mouse-clicking echoed across the room as a pair of bloodshot eyes remained glued to a shining screen and it''s contents. The barking of wild, stray dogs rung into the night as the furious drumming of the keyboard finally came to a halt and the figure leant back into his chair with a heavy sigh. Cilen was you typical, run-of-the-mill kinda guy. He went to your average government-funded high-school, played sports on the weekend, hung out with friends, and read a shit ton of fantasy novels in his free time. Y''know, the typical high school experience. But things got a little cloudy from there. He didn''t know what to do after high school. Well, he had a vague idea. Somewhere along the lines of attending college, getting a degree, working a nine to five job, marry, retire, and die without too much hassle. Well, all of that was pretty much set in stone, until his parents passed away when he was seventeen, forcing Cilen to learn to grow up. Fast. He figured it wouldn''t be that bad. He had a house, he had an inheritance, he had friends that kept him company. And at first, it really wasn''t anything. He still carried on with high school, still hung out with his friends and besides a few missed meals, he was in tip-top condition. But after weeks and months of just blatantly ignoring and just tuning out everything that involved the death of his parents, the loneliness finally started to sink in. It was always there, patiently waiting, waiting for the realization to finally settle. Then, the awareness just hits, and it hits you when you''re in your most vulnerable. It was one of your typical Sunday mornings, bright, warm sun, chirpy birds, the smell of freshly baked goods, lingering in the air. Cilen was taking a stroll in the local shopping mall, aimlessly walking around when he caught a whiff of a familiar fragrance from a shop or just an average passerby. At first, he carried on, as if nothing had happened until the awareness dawned and he realized he knew this smell. And suddenly that innocent passing fragrance had turned into ticking bomb as waves of nostalgia hit him like a truck doing 60 in a school zone. "Oh, this isn''t good..." he muttered as he tried regaining his composure. He definitely knew that smell. He knew it better than anyone. A radiant smile, a warm embrace, and an unfulfilled promise. All those memories, evoked by a tiny whiff of perfume. "I have to get out of here." Opening the front door and staggering home, another scent drifted into his nose. The smell of family. The aroma of love and warmth and compassion. Normally, he would not even notice this smell, as it was the smell that he grew up with. It was part of him and accompanied him since he was a child and his long term exposure to it slowly made it fade into the background light white noise. However, after his parents'' passing, he started noticing the smell more and more. He consciously made the effort to block out the smell whenever he came home, lest he stimulates flashbacks that were better left unprovoked. He had to be careful with their clothing too, as little touches could set off a whole nostalgia train that would not be beneficial for his mental condition. This was how Cilen was coping. Avoiding memories of his parents and hoping that they would fade with time. But today, he screwed up. Boy did he screw up... The scent that he caught hold of today was a catalyst, evoking memories that were quite frankly, better left untouched. His mental resistances were shaken as he stepped back into the house that held a hydrogen bomb equivalent worth of mental stimuli. It was the final push needed to bust open the collection of memories and emotions that he tried to keep so hard under wraps. The realization that he was alone, that his mother wasn''t going to be standing by the kitchen stove, gently smiling at him when he came home. That his father was never going to tossle his hair again or be that one obnoxiously loud parent at his games or give him any "girl advice" when he would finally start dating. They were gone and they weren''t coming back. "No..." It was like one of those moments when fear becomes so overwhelming, so real that it becomes paralyzing. Except Cilen wasn''t paralyzed with fear nor did he come face to face with it. He was just confused, anxious, and a little overwhelmed from the sudden exposure to long-forgotten stimuli. "Crap, crap, crap." "This isn''t how things are meant to be." "What would my parents think?" "What would they think, seeing me kneeling on the floor, bawling my eyes out?" Cilen had no answer to the questions flying around in his head. The only response he could come up with, "I just can''t disappoint them." And with that thought deeply ingrained in his mind, Cilen started studying. He started working. Not because he wanted money or an education, he just couldn''t disappoint them. Day after day, shift after shift. Cilen would find himself completely drained after each and every day, but it was fulfilling. It was only when he felt absolutely exhausted, did he feel his parents give him the imaginary pat on the back. It was only after he felt completely stripped of his energy did he feel like he was earning his right of the house that his parents had left him. And this routine of waking up, studying, working became his new life for a while. But somewhere along the line, all his work ceased to be about expectation, rather it gradually shifted to be more about himself. Thus, he constantly kept himself busy, to prevent his mind from wandering. But these thoughts would still pop up in the dead of night, whispering in his ear like the voice of the devil. He would think about the things that could of been. He would think about the things that might have transpired. He began questioning his every action and the actions of other people.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Why am I still stuck here, at the same point in my life?" "Why is he in a better position even though he is clearly unqualified?" "Why haven''t I progressed in this society?" Simple. All the main actors have been chosen since the very day they were born. Who commands who Who controls what All these opportunities went out to the select few destined to come in contact with them. The rest of us? We struggle and crawl at the feet of those that are in power. In offices. In the ministries. In our society. And Cilen despised it. Actually hate is a strong word... He heavily disapproved of it. Not the system but fate. The very fate that handed him his ticket to mediocrity. The very fate that made him a slave to "the system" that is, our society. It was the middle of the night. The dogs have ceased their barking now and the roads were empty. It was a quiet time, devoid of life, bereft of noise, aside from the occasional gust of wind and the gentle rustling of the grass. It was a peaceful time, ideal for a session of self-reflection, or a moment of solitude amongst oneself. Amongst one of the houses in the street... Cilen glanced around his room, his work clothes strewn across the carpet, dimly lit by the light of his computer screen, his reflection in the window, haggard, scrawny and tired. The routine whispers of belittlement rung loudly in his ear with his only solace being the cold caress of the midnight breeze. Cilen''s gaze lingered around his reflection for a second more, wishing that... "What do I even want?" he sighed, before succumbing to his exhaustion. Click, click-click.... The sound of rhythmic mouse-clicking echoed across the room as a pair of bloodshot eyes remained glued to a shining screen and it''s contents. The barking of wild, stray dogs rung into the night as the furious drumming of the keyboard finally came to a halt and the figure leant back into his chair with a heavy sigh. Cilen was you typical, run-of-the-mill kinda guy. He went to your average government-funded high-school, played sports on the weekend, hung out with friends, and read a shit ton of fantasy novels in his free time. Y''know, the typical high school experience. But things got a little cloudy from there. He didn''t know what to do after high school. Well, he had a vague idea. Something along the lines of attending college, getting a degree, working a nine to five job, marry, retire, and die without too much hassle. Well, all of that was pretty much set in stone, until his parents passed away when he was seventeen, forcing Cilen to learn to grow up. Fast. He figured it wouldn''t be that bad. He had a house, he had an inheritance, he had friends that kept him company. And at first, it really wasn''t anything. He still carried on with high school, still hung out with his friends and besides a few missed meals, he was in tip-top condition. But after weeks and months of just blatantly ignoring and tuning out everything that involved the death of his parents, the loneliness finally started to sink in. It was always there, patiently waiting, waiting for the realization to finally settle. Then, the awareness just hits, and it hits you when you''re in your most vulnerable. It was one of your typical Sunday mornings, bright, warm sun, chirpy birds, the smell of freshly baked goods, lingering in the air. Cilen was taking a stroll in the local shopping mall, aimlessly walking around when he caught a whiff of a familiar fragrance from a shop or just an average passerby. At first, he carried on, as if nothing had happened until the awareness dawned and he realized he knew this smell. And suddenly that innocent passing fragrance had turned into ticking bomb as waves of nostalgia hit him like a truck doing 60 in a school zone. "Oh, this isn''t good..." he muttered as he tried regaining his composure. He definitely knew that smell. He knew it better than anyone. A radiant smile, a warm embrace, and an unfulfilled promise. All those memories, evoked by a tiny whiff of perfume. "I have to get out of here." Opening the front door and staggering home, another scent drifted into his nose. The smell of family. The aroma of love and warmth and compassion. Normally, he would not even notice this smell, as it was the smell that he grew up with. It was part of him and accompanied him since he was a child and his long term exposure to it slowly made it fade into the background like white noise. However, since his parents'' passing, he started noticing the smell more and more. He consciously made the effort to block out the smell whenever he came home, lest he stimulates flashbacks that were better left unprovoked. He had to be careful with their clothing too, as little touches could set off a whole nostalgia train that would not be beneficial for his mental condition. This was how Cilen was coping. Avoiding memories of his parents and hoping that they would fade with time. But today, he screwed up. Boy did he screw up... The scent that he caught hold of today was a catalyst, evoking memories that were quite frankly, better left untouched. His mental resistances were shaken as he stepped back into the house that held a hydrogen bomb equivalent worth of mental stimuli. It was the final push needed to bust open the collection of memories and emotions that he tried to keep so hard under wraps. The realization that he was alone, that his mother wasn''t going to be standing by the kitchen stove, gently smiling at him when he came home. That his father was never going to tussle his hair again or be that one obnoxiously loud parent at his games or give him any "girl advice" when he would finally start dating. They were gone and they weren''t coming back. "No..." It was like one of those moments when fear becomes so overwhelming, so real that it becomes paralyzing. Except Cilen wasn''t paralyzed with fear nor did he come face to face with it. He was just confused, anxious, and a little overwhelmed from the sudden exposure to long-forgotten stimuli. "Crap, crap, crap." "This isn''t how things are meant to be." "What would my parents think?" "What would they think, seeing me kneeling on the floor, bawling my eyes out?" Cilen had no answer to the questions flying around in his head. The only response he could come up with, "I just can''t disappoint them." And with that thought deeply ingrained in his mind, Cilen started studying. He started working. Not because he wanted money or an education, he just couldn''t disappoint them. Day after day, shift after shift. Cilen would find himself completely drained after each and every day, but it was fulfilling. It was only when he felt absolutely exhausted, did he feel his parents give him the imaginary pat on the back. It was only after he felt completely stripped of his energy did he feel like he was earning his right of living in the house that his parents had left him. And this routine of waking up, studying, working became his new life for a while. But somewhere along the line, all his work ceased to be about expectation, rather it gradually shifted to be more about himself. Thus, he constantly kept himself busy, to prevent his mind from wandering. But these thoughts would still pop up in the dead of night, whispering in his ear like the voice of the devil. He would think about the things that could of been. He would think about the things that might have transpired. He began questioning his every action and the actions of other people. "Why am I still stuck here, at the same point in my life?" "Why is he in a better position even though he is clearly unqualified?" "Why haven''t I progressed in this society?" Simple. All the main actors have been chosen since the very day they were born. Who commands who Who controls what All these opportunities went out to the select few destined to come in contact with them. The rest of us? We struggle and crawl at the feet of those that are in power. In offices. In the ministries. In our society. And Cilen hated it. Hate is a strong word... He heavily disapproved of it. Not the system but fate. The very fate that handed him his ticket to mediocrity. The very fate that made him a slave to "the system" that is, our society. It was the middle of the night. The dogs have ceased their barking now and the roads were empty. It was a quiet time, devoid of life, bereft of noise, aside from the occasional gust of wind and the gentle rustling of the grass. It was a peaceful time, ideal for a session of self-reflection, or a moment of solitude amongst oneself. Amongst one of the houses in the street... Cilen glanced around his room, his work clothes strewn across the carpet, dimly lit by the light of his computer screen, his reflection in the window, haggard, scrawny and tired. The routine whispers of belittlement rung loudly in his ear with his only solace being the cold caress of the midnight breeze. Cilen''s gaze lingered around his reflection for a second more, wishing that... "What do I even want?" he sighed, before succumbing to his exhaustion. Awake - Cilen Cilen was never quite sure why he was so afraid of dying. It was illogical, like how some people feared bugs, or tight spaces, or the sea. It was a gut feeling, instinctual, never concrete, yet he had the feeling that if he died, something terrible would happen. He was just quite not sure what. In his dreams, Cilen was falling. Falling forever, falling without end. Falling through the memories of the little chapter of life he was able to experience. He saw his mother, with her gentle and sunny smile lighting up the room. He saw his father, radiant with laughter and shoulders that bore the weight of the world. His classmates, whose faces he had long forgotten, and a short-lived love that ended just as sweetly as it had started. He saw his face on the day of the accident. Distraught with sorrow and clouded with disbelief. The spiral out of control, the decline of his mental health, the descent into insanity. Pain, grief and contempt accompanied him, from the start to the finish, without a single moment apart. ... Cilen woke to the sound of gentle rain, drumming the leaves and stirring the grass. His arms felt like lead as he tried pulling them out of the damp soil. From what seemed to consume all his energy, Cilen managed to prop his body up and inspect his charred limbs. Glancing down, he saw his badly burned leg and the carbonized remains of the other. His mind, weary with fatigue barely registered the information before turning its attention to his arms, one of which had also been completely seared down to his elbow. "No, no, no, no" "This can''t be happening," murmured Cilen, his mind filled with questions as he observed his surroundings. The vibrant trees of the forest reached for the sky as he calculated that they must have surpassed the height of some skyscrapers that he had seen in the city. The air felt light, clean unlike the carbon drenched atmosphere of Earth and the colorful plants and dense undergrowth was not something he had ever seen before, even in the fantastical world of his video games.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. However, his disbelief was quickly washed away by sorrow as he took another glance at the charred stumps of where his left hand and feet used to occupy. Cilen had broken his arm once, as a child and he could say with absolute certainty that it was not an experience he wanted to relive. At least with a broken arm, it had the potential to be fixed, a chance for recovery, "it was just on a summer holiday," as his mother put it. This, on the other hand, was not a holiday. More like permanent retirement... While being distracted by his thoughts, a furious roar from the depths of the forest sent shockwaves throughout the trees and shrubbery leaving specs of green, purple, and azure in its wake. Cilen did not know what exactly what had happened but he did know for sure that he was not on Earth anymore; the almost fantasy-like setting was not remotely possible anywhere in his old world. No matter how confused he was, an overwhelming fear of death filled his mind, and as annoying as it was, it had cleared away most of the confusion and indecision in Cilen''s mind. He knew that he must survive. With his usable hand, Cilen crawled his way to the base of an enormous tree whose trunk was as thick as a large bus and searched desperately amongst the foliage for materials to use as a splint. His fingers curled around a small branch the length of his leg. After flexing the branch a few times, he was satisfied with its sturdiness and proceeded to gather several tufts of long grass that grew around the perimeter of the tree. Cilen had no knowledge regarding the skill of weaving so he simple twisted grass into a bundle and tied knots at the ends. After securing the temporary splint to his left leg, he managed to shakily stand up and hobble his way towards another tree which he had noticed, had a small indent, large enough to fit a moderately sized human inside. Cilen had never bothered to learn any survival skills in his spare time, (I mean, why would you?) however, his brief exposure to survival sandbox games like Minecraft had allowed him to understand that his first priorities were a shelter, food, and source of water. Although a hollow in a tree was a drastic downgrade to even the most run-down of apartments, anything was better than braving the night in the middle of a forest. Upon reaching the tree, Cilen noticed the hole''s inhabitants, a small rodent-like creature the size of a bucket lay sprawled out on the soft grassy floor. Freezing in his tracks, Cilen made a split-second decision to remove his makeshift splint and fiercely run it through the body of the creature. It was met with some resistance as Its skin was surprisingly tough and as a result, a full-strength thrust of a stick only penetrated halfway through the body of the animal. Unsurprisingly the animal woke up and started struggling after learning of its fate however, it was quickly incapacitated by another swift blow the head. Kill - Cilen After killing the beast, Cilen propped his heaving back against the walls of the tree. As his breathing steadied, he forced himself to take a glance at the corpse. The puncture wound was messy, but despite its appearance, Cilen believed he could salvage the fur and turn it into something useful. He was surprisingly unfazed, upon seeing the body of the beast bleeding out into the soil. He attributed his sudden calmness to his current dire situation, as there were more pressing issues than a little blood and gore to be concerned about. For instance, the issue with his missing left arm and leg. Temporarily, the problem of the leg could be solved by the newly red-painted makeshift splint used to stab the rodent. However, Cilen greatly lamented his loss of mobility as his current speed top speed was slower than a snail''s crawl. He knew that he would have to get a custom artificial leg later down the line, but a better temporary solution would involve carving a basic leg shape out of wood and using it as a substitute. Surveying the small hollow, Cilen spotted a few things that the rodent seemed to have scavenged during its time alive. An assortment of little sharp teardrop-shaped stones, a small snakeskin drawstring pouch, a black leather-bound notebook and finally a pale gem-like crystal. The item that interested Cilen the most was the black leather-bound notebook. Much to his disappointment, he found that it was written in a completely foreign language bearing a resemblance to Egyptian hieroglyphics, further assuring his suspicion that he had somehow transmigrated. Flipping through, Cilen could see that some drawings bore remarkable similarities to the plants and flora that he had seen outside. Perhaps the most significant discovery, a map, illustrating the border and specific landmark areas of the forest.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The next item, the snakeskin drawstring pouch that jingled a little bit as he picked it up. Unremarkably, upon opening the pouch, several penny-sized silver coins fell out and cluttered on the ground. Examining the currency, Cilen concluded that they had originated from some human-like settlement from the intricate markings on the sides of the coin. After fiddling with the pouch for a while, he turned his attention to the little pale crystal partially submerged in the soil. There was nothing notable besides the fact that when he placed it in his palm, it started emitting a bright purple light. Although it was a decent light source, Cilen had a feeling that its true purpose had yet to be served. Finally, the least impressive yet arguably the most useful item of the bunch, the assortment of teardrop-shaped stones scattered in the dirt. Grabbing the nearest stone, Cilen plunged the tip directly into the middle of the stomach area of the corpse. Despite its lack of sharpness, the edge easily penetrated the soft fur of the animal and with some encouragement, Cilen started guiding his ''on the fly'' knife blade across the body of the animal. When the incision was nearly the length of his index finger, Cilen inserted his hand inside the opening and scooped out the lukewarm innards, twisting as he retracted his arm to fully separate the mess in his hand from the deceased owner. Taking a deep breath, he calmed his pounding heart before reaching again into the now semi hollowed corpse. Digging around its chest region, he chanced upon what felt like baggy membrane before his fingernails scraped against a smooth surface. A twinge of curiosity welled up from the bottom of his left toe, yet it was quickly masked by a sudden outpour of self-awareness. Suppressing his fear, Cilen closed his fingers around the object and pulled hard, bringing up bits of flesh and viscera as well as a small black crystal, almost identical to the one that he had found earlier. Energy - Cilen He thought that the strange white crystal was eerie enough. Now an exact replica shows up in the body of a dismantled rodent corpse? Creepy. Cilen was pretty sure they weren''t the same though, as he tried holding the black crystal yet it didn''t even emit light any sort of light. Placing the two crystals in the pouch, for now, Cilen devoted his efforts to finish skinning the corpse. Despite his limited experience, he reasoned he did okay. There was some wastage and some cuts in the fur, however, Cilen concluded that it would be more productive to worry about other things than cry over some spilled milk. Cilen considered the possibility of starting a fire to cook his newly obtained fresh produce, yet the idea was quickly doused (budum-chiii) after inspecting his damp surrounding and peering outside at the pouring rain. With nothing to do but wait it out, Cilen took out the crystal that he found in the rodent''s home (technically it''s his home now) and started fiddling with it. The crystal was not very large; about the size of a fingernail. The edges were smooth and well defined indicating that it was perhaps not something that naturally occurred, rather, the work of something or someone. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. While examining it from the side, the crystal lit up again, this time, Cilen felt that it took something from him; something from inside him had disappeared into the crystal. It was subtle but he definitely felt that he was slightly more exhausted than before. From what he could tell, the crystal seemed like a reading device. It read the energy signal from inside of him and the output was that strange purple light. Perhaps other people would cause it to shine in a different color? Cilen wasn''t really sure. He had a bad habit of overanalyzing the smallest of details and getting caught up in them. As the rainforest sky finally started darkening and the shadows under the canopies started to thicken, Cilen found himself reflecting a little bit. Now that he was stuck in a completely alien world with aliens speaking an unknown language living with their alien customs, his previous life seemed almost.... cute in comparison. Issues like struggling inside a workplace and identity crisis are irrelevant when your life is on the line. Imagine running from a monster while whining about your incompetent superior. Or questioning the meaning of your existence while trying to desperately survive another day. Winging and moaning never helped anyone, and this world was keen to make sure that he never had the opportunity to kick up a fuss. Perhaps this was the change that Cilen needed for so long. Dreams - Cilen Cilen didn''t like dreams. Correction. Cilen didn''t like nightmares. He never really had a problem with nightmares, however, they really started getting bad a few months after well.... the whole car crash thing. It also really didn''t help soothe his apprehensions towards sleeping after once coming face to face with his mother''s freshly mutilated corpse in his dream. Ever since then, he''d sworn off all fluids within two hours before when he slept. This time it was different. His first night in this world was spent free of nightmares. After spending what felt like the whole night struggling to reach a comfortable position, he finally managed to relax his body enough for him to pay a visit to the land of dreams. Cilen found himself inside a dark cavern, impossibly large, illuminated by millions of beautiful glowing stalactites stretching from the cavern roof to the lonely depths below. A circular throne stood silently in the darkness, seated by a slender and lithe silhouette. Cilen couldn''t make out her facial features but he could identify a pair of multicolored eyes that seemed to tug at his very soul. A flash of amusement flickered in her eyes before being replaced by a look of solemnity. "Cilen Archelleta," the voice rang, "join me, reclaim your birthright." Cilen thought he had seen it all. Dead bodies? Yep His own charred to the stump limbs after a completely average day? Mmmhm Weird gem-like crystal inside a rat corpse? Been there, done that.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Yet his dream seemed intent on proving him wrong. Strange dark cavern? Creepy throne?Disturbing silhouette? Terrifyingly beautiful (and terrifying) eyes staring right into his soul? They definitely didn''t cut any corners in trying to confuse him. To top it all off, the ''thing'' said something about joining her? And his birthright? Something wasn''t right... Cilen was pretty sure he was not an original resident of this world. However, something about what the voice had said unsettled him. Archelleta was not his surname. It belonged to his deceased mother. And the voice itself... it was strange. It sounded so sweet, so pleasant, it calmed his jitters, and yet he yearned to hear more. It was also . .. exceedingly familiar, almost like he had heard it somewhere, someplace before, almost... nostalgic. Thinking about it made his head hurt and Cilen had enough of mysterious creepy ladies. It was daytime now. He had stuff to do. First thing, he needed a fire. The rain was still pouring outside but Cilen had an idea towards his next course of action. Locating the neutral crystal is what he called it, Cilen tried to voluntarily insert some ''energy'' into the crystal. Luckily his prior suspicion was right and the crystal lit up, brighter than before. "With light, comes heat," Cilen whispered as he gathered some dry materials he found lying around inside his shelter. Grabbing two twigs, he furiously rubbed one against the tinder as the crystal was getting uncomfortably hot in his hand. When he saw some smoke starting to rise, Cilen remembered from sixth-grade science class that "fire needed oxygen to burn," so he bent down and started to blow gently into the base of the smoke, causing the embers to glow just a tiny bit brighter. "C''mon" Just as Cilen started feeling a tiny bit nauseous after all the blowing, he felt a heat burning his palm as a small flame flickered to life in the tinder. He had created fire. Cold Comfort - Cilen There was once a time when Cilen pulled an SS tier character in the gatcha game that he was playing. He thought that the exhilaration from that felt better than anything he''d ever experienced. Obviously he was wrong because setting stuff on fire, totally tops that feeling. It was a bit of a confusing moment as he wasn''t really sure whether or not he was happy at finally accomplishing something he set out to do or the awakening of his inner pyromaniac. Perhaps he was just really glad that he could finally cook the stupid rat corpse plaguing his peripherals. Chewing on a slice of rat meat, Cilen washed his right hand (remember the other one is gone) in the puddles of muddy rainwater outside. Washing off the blood and grime, he scooped some water from a slightly cleaner looking puddle while praying to whatever higher being watching, that this world didn''t have an earth equivalent of the tapeworm or any other parasitic water-based creature. Maybe it would''ve been wiser if he boiled the water first and Cilen definitely realized it after he drank his first mouthful. Yet Cilen was Cilen. He has always been unapologetic about the mistakes he makes because he is prepared to accept the consequences for them. Most of the time. Besides, he didn''t have a container to hold the water in and he was definitely was not going to spend half his day carving out one. After he was about done with eating, and his stomach ceased making miniature earthquakes, Cilen slipped the black journal and the pouch with his coins and crystals into his pocket. Surveying the area, he spotted a large stick that felt sturdy and flexible in his hand. He was primarily going to use it to assist him with walking and swatting the occasional monster or two. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. He was a bit sad about leaving the campfire behind, but he consoled himself by promising to burn down the forest in its name at a later date. Maybe. Latching onto his walking stick, Cilen hobbled his way deeper into the forest. He didn''t know what he was looking for or why he left the safety of the shelter, but he knew that it wouldn''t be good if he stayed in one place for too long (he was bored). And so, perhaps a change in scenery might spice things up. At first, the walking energized him. Every few steps he would see a cool new plant, some wacky bug or an animal to ogle at. But it soon grew repetitive. The forest was huge and everything looked the same. He didn''t know how long he was traveling for but it felt like hours and from what he could tell, the sun also seemed to be going down. Even though Cilen knew he was a complete numbskull, even he could understand that Dark = Bad. Especially so in a completely foreign environment. Concluding that he would much rather be alive than end up as some monster''s new chew toy, Cilen picked up his pace and sped south. He didn''t know what he was looking for but he just kept on hobbling. He was thirsty, hungry and exhausted after walking for God knows how long. His foot had started forming blisters and his hand holding the walking stick was scraped red and raw. Countless times Cilen wanted to sit back and cry, just collapse on the ground and lament his fate, curse the heavens and whatever sick bastard threw him here. But... he couldn''t. He was in no position to. He was in this world now. This was his reality. If he wanted to sit back and complain, he would perish. This was not Earth, where the price for a mistake rarely ended in death. This is the wild now. He had to shut up, grit his teeth and trudge on. Or die. As the last remnants of warmth and light finally faded, Cilen felt his shoulders slump. His breathing quickened as he clenched his teeth a little harder. A feeling of urgency spread from his fingers and into his chest. It was dark now. And he was alone. Chase - Cilen The dark didn''t bother him as much as the loss of direction. Maintaining a beeline south is easy for five minutes. Keeping it up for thirty? Fifty? Cilen wasn''t sure if he was heading into uncharted territory or back towards where he began. Though he could really appreciate the warm little fire and the cozy tree hollow right about now. Even if it had a few bits of fur and rat blood on the floor. After the umpteenth time of walking directly into a tree, Cilen realized he still had the light-emitting crystal in his right pocket (L.E.C?). Perhaps it would''ve been useful earlier when he was stumbling around the dark but, better late than ever right? Concentrating so that he only pulled an extremely small amount of energy, he inserted it into the awaiting crystal. His surroundings flickered to life as a dim purple glow illuminated the dark landscape, casting twisted shadows that covered the forest floor. He could see at least. Though Cilen wasn''t sure which was better. His high paced stumble through the forest had slowed to a snail''s crawl. With one hand holding the stick and crystal and the other hand well, gone, he continued his way southward, keeping his eyes peeled for anything that might want a scrawny human as dinner. As he trodded on Cilen realized that traveling through a dark forest was definitely better with a light source than without (duh). At the same time, Cilen noticed that it also brought a whole lot more attention to himself. Thrice now, he had run into animals and it wasn''t clear who was more startled in the encounter. The eyes didn''t make him feel reassured either. Every five or so minutes, he would spot a pair of glowing silver eyes amongst the dense rainforest foliage. And just as quickly as they appeared, they would disappear back into the darkness. "Great. Just great."If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Obviously the forest wanted him to be even more scared so it sent some mystery beast after his hide too. Cilen sincerely hoped it was vegetarian otherwise he might find himself hard-pressed for options when he would eventually encounter it. "Is it fun scaring the already terrified?" muttered Cilen. If so, someone had a terrible sense of humor. Just as he finished his sentence, a dreadful stench of rotting meat found its way in Cilen''s nose just as he felt a warm moist breath collide against the base of his neck. Without thinking, Cilen instinctively brought up his walking apparatus and stabbed behind him. Instantly a cry of pain sounded out in the direction of his rear. Cilen spun around to come face to face with the biggest creature that he''d ever seen. A charcoal black panther an automobile in size with glowing silver eyes that were staring right at him. They didn''t look friendly either. Looking at the thing, Cilen''s brain temporarily did a short circuit as he tried coming back to his senses. And then he ran. Ran like never before. Ran faster than he ever thought possible. Possibly ran faster than anyone in history with a wooden leg. It was a miracle that it hasn''t snapped in half yet. Or separated itself from the stub of a leg that it was attached to. Cilen was too busy to worry about that. He was just running. Fleeing through trees, around bushes and shrubbery. Ducking under branches over pebbles and exposed roots. "Maybe the panther would trip on one of these roots." It was impossible but he still hoped. But everything seemed to be going well. The panther was fast despite its huge size, but its size was also a detriment. It couldn''t fit between small spaces like Cilen did. It had to stop, and go around. And that bought him some time. Cilen could even make out another purple light source be in very distance, and something told him that he would be safe as long as he reached it. With increased vigor, Cilen sped towards the light source, working his burning lungs and legs that were groaning in pain. His hands and arms were scraped red and bloody but he was close. He could almost see what the purple light was. Just as everything seemed to be looking towards the upside, Cilen misjudged his stride. His left leg struck against an uneven stone. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as he turned around and saw... CRACK. His wooden leg split in two. Railed lightning - Cilen Cilen nearly fainted from the pain. The force at which he struck the rock, the speed at which he lost his balance. All of those contributed towards what was known as a recipe for disaster. As he was falling or rather, flying, through the air, Cilen had a little deja vu moment of when he was seven years old, riding his bike at top speed and slamming into his neighbor''s wall. He survived of course, but his mother went absolutely berserk and had forbidden Cilen to ever touch a bicycle again. He listened without hesitation because that was the first time he had ever seen his mother angry. The pain that time was nothing compared to the pain he felt right now. His body did a 180 in midair and slammed into the base of a tree with his spine. The impact was so immense that Cilen started seeing black dots in his vision as the contents of his stomach threatened to say hello again. His right arm was shivering as he struggled to even hold onto his walking stick. THUD THUD THUD Cilen could hear the footsteps of the panther gradually making its way closer and closer. He was almost out of time. He could hear it. He could feel it. But he couldn''t muster the strength to stand. The agony, the pain. The black spots were back. He was sure he had broken something. He felt like giving in, but every time he wanted to, an overwhelming urge overtook him. An urge not to live, but rather a desire to not die. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Gritting his teeth so hard that his gums burst, and with an effort that seemed to have taken all his strength, Cilen clawed with his bloody fingernails at the tree bark pulling his body that was on the verge of death up to lean against the tree. His legs felt like jelly. His spinal cord groaned in pain. His head threatened to explode. But he didn''t care. He couldn''t die. Bit by bit, little by little, Cilen made his way to the source of the light. He could hear the growls of the beast getting closer, but it didn''t matter. He was close to the light. He was so close... Finally, he saw it. Sitting in a forest clearing, a huge orb of purple light, flickering, flashing as tendrils of lightning arced towards the ground. It was beautiful, spectacular and it felt incredibly dangerous. Cilen had never seen a nuclear bomb before but he''d imagined that this is what it would feel like, standing next to the detonator. An incredible feeling of power, yet an overwhelming sensation of peril. Just as he was admiring the scenery, the vegetation behind him burst open, revealing the menacing silhouette of 14-foot black panther and it''s glowing silver eyes. It had enough of Cilen. It was done with the chase, and it was time to kill. Railed lightning II - Cilen "Great," Cilen thought. All that running around just made it even more mad. The situation was getting worse by the second. His chest felt like molten lava as his chest heaved up and down and the rest of his body refused to listen to him. In a moment of desperation, Cilen did something, the only thing he could do, he opened his mouth and spoke to the panther. " Um... look here panther," he began. "I''m sure there''s been a misunderstanding..." The panther paused and stared blankly at him and for a second. Cilen was certain that he saw it tilt it''s head in amusement, almost like it just witnessed a fish that suddenly learned how to speak. "Um ..." he continued The panther gave him an expression that looked like it said, go on... "Well you see, I don''t really belong on this planet... " as he paused and collected his breath. He needed a plan. Something to help get rid of the panther. Making some noise and pray that an equally threatening monster comes along? Clever, but Cilen doubted he had enough energy to even talk, much less yell. Burning the whole clearing? Interesting, but he didn''t want to die with the freaking thing. Besides, the rain from yesterday didn''t exactly make the grass easy to light. The only potential solution, the element of uncertainty, the reason why he ended up in this damn clearing in the first place, the floating purple LED spitting out bolts of electricity. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. He had ZERO clue what it did, but for some reason, he felt a strange resonance to the lightning that was spewing out of it. As crazy as it sounded, It was almost like he could touch it and redirect it to wherever he willed. "Ok, we''re going off on our feeling now..." That alone, summed up the hopeless situation that Cilen was currently in. So desperate that his only hope was an ill-founded, delusional, mystery sensation that he was unsure if it came from the depths of his imagination. By now, the panther had gotten bored of his delirious blabbering. It had lost interest in his nonsense and he was back to square one. It was do, or die. Concentrating to send out a stream of energy, Cilen willed it to attempt to tug on the lightning, raining on the ground. He mentally pulled, no avail. He tried again, No response. Sending out stream after stream of energy yielded no result... The panther was ever so close now. Sending out that energy had exhausted him even more. So much so that he was now shaking like the legs of a newborn faun. Though Cilen wasn''t really sure if it was from the fear or his lack of energy. A last-ditch effort. A final resort. If this didn''t work, he was panther late night snack. He pictured that there was a generator in the center of his chest, whirling, constantly spinning. Right now it was in overdrive, rotating furiously as he relentlessly depleted his energy reserves and sent it outwards to the source of the lightning, the giant, purple floating ball. The panther was looming over him now. It''s jaws moist with saliva, as 800 pounds of lean predator muscle tackled him to the ground. Cilen sensed that his stream of energy had made a connection. The panther seemed to have sensed something too. It''s eyes widened in disbelief and as if realizing something, snarled and raised its paw to swipe at his face. The swipe was fast. But the lightning was even faster. Before he even had a chance to register what was happening, BOOM! The lightning struck the panther squarely in the chest, sending it flying back into trees that lined the edges of the clearing. Cilen was too tired to see what had transpired. The moment the lightning had connected, he was out. Cold. Clearing - Cilen The last remnants of the night regressed back into the shadows, leaving a path for the harbingers of daybreak. Gentle rays of sunlight caressed the emerald green canopies, sharing its warmth to all those who live under the sun. Within an uninhabited clearing in the middle of nowhere, lay a stream, with specs of orange, red and grey swimming through its crystal clear waters. Lying 5 meters away, the body of a young man lay eagle-spread on the soft dry soil. His features were badly charred, with both it''s left leg and arm carbonized to a stump. If one looked closely enough, hundreds of little nicks and scratches could be seen lining the contours of his face, arm, and leg. If it weren''t for subtle rising and falling of his chest, it would be quite difficult to tell whether or not he was alive. Cilen woke up feeling like absolute death. Like just he got hit by a bus and then struck by lightning, then dumped into a pit filled with glass shards. His head felt like it was on the verge of exploding as he tried moving and opening his eyes. After what felt like an eternity, he finally managed to force his eyes open to witness the warmth of the light again. The sun was back now. And the previously terrifying nightscape now looked like it wouldn''t even touch a fly. Vibrant trees that reached for the brilliant aquamarine sky, warm, comforting sun and butterflies that flocked to the multicolored flowers lining the edges of the clearing. It was almost like everything was a different world under the light, and unsurprisingly, Cilen felt his tense shoulders loosen just a tiny bit when he saw that the formerly dark environment became visible again. Trying to accomplish anything in the dark was just asking for trouble. Now that he could finally see his surroundings, Cilen reasoned that his current location was a decent place to set up a more permanent home. Living in a clearing meant that his vision wouldn''t be obscured by the gargantuan trees that populated the forest. There was also a stream that bisected the clearing, providing a source of water and food. Finally, the biggest anomaly in this clearing, the floating lightning source (is what he decided to call it) that seemed to spit out lightning bolts at five-second intervals. It was a decent light source and a potential panther killing machine. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "I need to set up shop before night arrives." Ignoring his protesting muscles, Cilen grabbed his walking stick that still seemed to be unscathed after all that drama and propped his body upright. Little by lit, he staggered his way to the stream where he could see its flowing crystal clear waters filled with fish. He currently didn''t have any capabilities to catch fish so he could only go hungry. On the other hand, the water really wasn''t going anywhere so he thrust his face into the water, taking in large and greedy gulps of the sweet spring water. He also used it as an opportunity to rinse his grimy face and take a look at the face reflected to him from the water. His face wasn''t too dissimilar to that of his previous life. He originally had pretty androgynous-looking features, high cheekbones, thin lips, pale skin and a defined nose and transmigration didn''t do him any favors like making him super buff or have some give him some interesting hair color. His hair was still black and his eyes were still blue. However, his eyes that used to be the color of the sky, had turned into a deep shade of navy blue. Maybe there was some administration problem and they messed up his eyes. No biggie, Cilen wasn''t upset with how his appearance turned out. Not that he was in a position to kick up a fuss anyway. After rinsing out bits of vegetation from his hair, Cilen concluded that his next course of action was to start a campfire. A campfire could do many things. It was a source of light, heat and comfort. It could also cook food and boil water while also warding off curious insects and animals. Cilen was, however, not willing to make another fire with his bare hands. He had enough of it the first time and he was not prepared to make another. Instead, he had another idea. An idea that involved a little bit of lightning.