《Familiar Things》 Chapter 1 Leon opened his eyes and for the first time in a long time he wondered if he had made the right choice. Sunlight struck like a viper, and the next few seconds were spent in bleary blinking sight. He silently gave a blessing that this was not a hangover day, and began to prop himself up to get a better view of the surroundings. His hand contacted the floor and was met with a brittle snap and he looked down at the complete lack of bed and significant overpopulation of sticks in his vicinity. He looked around, brain sleep heavy but just aware enough to register several things. First, this was a nest. Second, this was a big nest, and last but by no means least¡­ Those were some big eggs. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. A harsh, tin-whistle shriek rang out across the sky, and the last dregs of sleep were pulled away just in time for Leon to feel panic. He scrambled to the edge of the ridiculously large nest, eyes darting to the sky, and the sight of the floor 30 feet below had his stomach dropping to the floor. The sound of beating wings made itself known as a shadow began to cruise over the canopy of trees below. Leon scrambled around to the edge of the stone eddy in which the nest resided, spotting a bushel of foliage along the side. He hesitated, but another booming screech was enough to have him over the edge. He scrambled through branches, no concern for physical safety, and thanked himself for not sleeping naked as the clothes he wore took most of the blows. He managed to make it maybe another couple of feet down before the foliage abruptly cut off, the trunk of the tree Leon stood upon swaying dangerously under his weight. He was painfully aware of the lack of cover above him. Down below, closer but still dizzyingly far, a more distant patch of foliage, along with a sizeable lake which shone in the stark morning light. In it, he caught a blur of reflection, and felt a gust of wind from above. He looked up and blanched. That¡¯s a big bird. He had time to get one last look at the behemoth plunging down towards him before his grip failed. He fell. Chapter 2 For a moment, nothing suspended him but air, and then he hit the branches. The deafening screech was thankfully muffled by the dense leaves he passed through on his descent. A branch cracked against his back, the numb precursor to pain making itself known, before Leon was free of the branches, and in the air once more. He felt for a gut wrenching moment the sickening feeling of falling, before he hit the water. Every point of contact stung, and he realised after a moment the breath that he¡¯d been holding since he started falling. Lungs burning, he clawed upwards, and with a gasp, his head broke free of the water. He floated there for a while, in the water, staring up at the form of the bird staring balefully down from above, before he was suddenly aware of the feeling of emptiness below his legs. He wasn¡¯t really afraid of water, per se, but he was definitely afraid of what might be in it. He swam hard to the edge of the lake, making sure not to make too frantic movements. If it worked for sharks, it might work here as well. Hopefully. He dragged himself up the shore, flat against the thin stony beach that ran around the shoreline. Taking a moment to just... breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, then pulled himself up. Turning away from the water, he opened them once more.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Verdant vibrancy spread out before him like a painting. He heard the sounds of birdsong, and insect call. The branches swayed in the breezeless air, and it struck home to a simple concept in his mind. So full of- There, to his left, a snapping branch. A bush rustled out of sync to the trees. His eyes locked on to it, adrenaline slowly pumping up from where it had begun to settle in his core. He dove behind a small incline of rock, flattening himself to the floor. He peeked above, features obscured by a thin section of shrubbery, just as the bush exploded into motion. A nearly indistinguishable blur hit a point in the earth, wind trailing in its wake. The shape stopped for a moment, before straightening up into full vision. A brown mouse, eyes like shiny black marbles, sat up, holding the twitching form of a rather sizable dragonfly within its mouth. Leon stared in shock for a moment, as the pet shop mascot nominee crunched through the bug¡¯s carapace, hands held close to its face like a squirrel as it shoved the entire thing down its throat bit by bit. When it was done, it sat there for a moment, cleaning itself, before heading towards the water. Leon moved slowly. He wasn¡¯t overly cautious of the tiny thing, though a small spark within his brain worried more about the chance that it could spit lightning or something equally ridiculous considering the already confusing nature of its surroundings, before he misplaced a foot and sent a rock skittering along the beach. The mouse blurred, disappeared from its drinking spot before appearing a short distance away on a tall boulder. It stared around, beady eyes wide. It looked afraid, which gave Leon a little more confidence as he stood up and began to walk towards the forest. He needed to see if there was any shelter nearby, or hopefully just a place to hang out away from the giant bird. He glanced backwards at the rock, half-expecting to see the little guy gone, and that gave him just enough time to spot the furry blur cannoning directly for his face. He clumsily raised his hands up, but it was far too slow, and the mouse was already taking swipes at his face. His hands came up just in time to block its frenzied descent towards his throat, and he yelled in pain as it bit into his arm. His yell was cut short by a crack that he felt through his arm, and a numbing pain that he faintly recognised from when he had fallen off his bike as a child, years before. The fucker had fractured his arm. He swung his arm out blindly, and the death mouse flew back, taking a decent chunk of flesh. It twisted in the air, landing on its feet facing towards him, and it hissed, its hair puffing up in a way that would have been cute if it hadn¡¯t been for the blood marring its face. A wave of pressure struck him, and he steadied himself with his left arm as his knees buckled. He scrambled to his feet as the mouse threatened him from where it stood. A completely inane thought passed fuzzily through his mind as blood gushed down from his limp forearm. This was most definitely a territorial display. He didn¡¯t spare another thought towards the fuzzy deathball in front of him, as his mind made the final selection between fight and flight, and his adrenaline fueled legs carried him away from the lake and into the forest. Chapter 3 Leon lasted for about a few minutes before his legs gave in and he could run no further. After a moment to catch his breath, he dragged himself a little bit further, right arm slowly and excruciatingly making its presence known. With a last bit of effort, he propped himself onto a conveniently slanted tree. He had surprised himself in his range of travel without passing out, and welcomed the blackness when it came. * * * He woke up some time later, eyes bleary and throat painfully dry, to a surprising lack of death. He looked down at his right arm, and attempted to lift it. Unsurprisingly, it barely moved. He attempted to twitch his fingers and immediately regretted it, crystal shards of pain threatening to rip the small threads of consciousness from his mind. Thankfully, he could just move his left arm, and the cool water that had coated him had yet to dry under the shade of the canopy above. He lifted his shirt to his mouth, sucking in the thin bits of moisture. He rung out the edges of his shirt for the last few drops, and then lay there, eyes shut. An indeterminate amount of time later, he felt his wound begin to tingle painfully, he looked down at it, and the thin dregs of fear that it might be some enterprising insect digging away at his flesh was enough for his weak body to be driven into action. Tenderly pulling his blood caked sleeve away from the wound, he looked down in hazy surprise. The wound itself had fully sealed, leaving only a scabbed up section of skin. It couldn¡¯t have been any more than half a day, assuming that time still worked that way, since he had received it, and yet it was already almost fully healed. Experimentally, he picked away a small section of the scab, a bad habit passed on from a childhood relatively free of disease, and was further shocked to find pale skin below. He continued to speculatively scratch at the scabbed flesh, only to find the actual wound was much smaller than the scab coverage, a thick red carapace surrounded by a moat of pale flesh. Poking around the wound, he winced as he felt the deeper underlying problem. Yep, still broken. Feeling a bit better than the soaking wet corpse he had been inches away from becoming, he pulled himself up, his swollen flesh thankfully holding his bone in place. He wristed the urge to flex his hand, letting it hang limply at his side. He needed food, and if what he had seen so far was any indicator he wasn¡¯t going to get it from animals any time soon. Stumbling around aimlessly for a while, he spotted a small clump of brown, wide mushrooms growing on a felled log. He cringed, but internally he was running out of options. He pulled off what he could and pocketed it. It was always good to have a last resort. Continuing through the trees, the forest surprisingly clear on the ground for all the cheerful bird song and insects. He could at the very least appreciate the irony in that. That¡¯s when he caught sight of it. A yellow fruit hung low, skin gleaming and taut like a water balloon. He stared in awe, and his stomach clenched hungrily. The wind turned, and a thick, heavenly smell wafted over his face. He gulped as his parched mouth began to fill with saliva. Inextricably, he felt his feet begin to move beneath him, and he slowly stepped towards the fruit, barely aware of his surroundings. That is, until a mouse hopped into the clearing. Immediately, all hunger driven delirium shot from his mind as his body managed to force out a bout of trauma induced fear.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. He dropped to the floor, wincing as he jarred his right arm, and stayed completely still. On closer inspection, it was clear this mouse wasn¡¯t the same as the one at the lake. It was noticeably smaller than its murderous counterpart, around about the size of his clenched fist, whereas the other had been closer to two fists and change. Leon watched it closely as it spotted the fruit. It hunched down, readying to jump, and then blurred. The speed was still astonishing, but what happened next was even more so. The mouse travelled through the air, and as if by precognition, a spear of wood pierced it. Leon stared in mute shock as the tree pulled the mouse into a small hollow at its base. Movement caught his eye, and he watched as on another branch, a bud spiralled open into a beautiful flower. Leon stood slowly, and began to walk away from the clearing. He didn¡¯t think he¡¯d be eating that fruit any time soon. * * * As the shadows of the forest stretched taut against ground and the sounds of the forest faded in anticipation of its nocturnal symphony, Leon sat in the hollow trunk of an immense tree, contemplating. He stared down at the makeshift bundle of nuts, fungi and berries that he had collected along his cautious and weary trek through the murder forest, picking out his poison. He had avoided anything with bright colours, hoping the same rules for poison in his world - he was certain that he wasn¡¯t anywhere near Earth, despite some striking similarities - applied here. He had carried his stuff there on his shirt, and once inside he¡¯d covered up the opening as best he could with the thin material. He looked at the items he had picked out. The large, dish shaped mushrooms which he had first found, a set of berries surrounded by thorns whose cuts still itched in raised patches of swollen skin, and a set of thumb-sized brown nuts with hard cased triangular shells that took a heavy rock to break apart. He breathed in deep, before starting with the nuts. He couldn¡¯t remember anything about poisonous nuts in his life, besides from maybe chestnuts, but at worst those gave stomach aches. Swallowing down his doubts, he shoved the nuts into his mouth, swallowing them whole like a tablet. If it was going to give him stomach cramps, he would at least eat enough that he would survive through it. That probably didn¡¯t actually work in the slightest, but it was what he was gonna stick with. He bit down on the large, juicy berries while he was at it. It popped in his mouth, sending a wince inducing capsule of sour juice and small seeds down his throat. He bit down on the next one, taking care to pick the more ripe ones as he went. These ones were less sour, and he found himself adjusting to the taste as he went. He picked up a handful and bit down, eyes closing in ecstasy as the watery juice soothed his parched throat. He waited, twisting the last nut between his fingers in contemplation. His stomach voiced no complaints, and he was still aware of the hollow emptiness that accompanied it. He wished he¡¯d had a better dinner before bed, but considering he¡¯d already missed the other two meals of his day, it probably wouldn¡¯t have made too much of a difference. His right arm ached, but he took that as a good sign. He¡¯d be much more worried if he couldn¡¯t feel it. What felt like half an hour passed by without incident, and the night began to set in in full. Absentmindedly, he picked at his scab, only to find that all but the deepest section of the scab was healed, leaving only the bruised flesh and stiff muscles that locked his forearm in place. How had he healed this fast? It shouldn¡¯t have been possible. Even the gashes along his face were fully healed. All he could come up with that was a common link was a twinging feeling of pain that accompanied each bit of healing. His clothes were roughly dry now, excepting the more uncomfortable crevices of skin, and he lay against the smooth dry earth below him. The events of the day came rushing forward, as if they had been waiting for him to have a moment to stop, and he thought through all the shit that had gone down, both literally and figuratively. He¡¯d had more near death experiences in this one day than any other day in his entire life beforehand, and maybe his whole life combined. But he¡¯d lived. Somehow. He was alone. That thought struck him, but the sadness that accompanied it faded as he shook his head. Even if there were no people nearby, surely there¡¯d be someone out there. He disliked thoughts that put him as the unique one in any situation, they rarely turned out to be true. If there were others out there, he¡¯d find them, but not today. He lay there for a while, before his eyes eventually began to close over. He soon fell asleep there, left hand dropping to the floor, and the nut rolled out of his hand. * * * While he slept, the rain began to fall, and from somewhere up above, rain rolled down and soaked his shirt. A stray breeze blew, and the shirt corner flicked absently, flinging a small amount of water through the door. Some struck against Leon¡¯s face, and he frowned in his sleep, turning over unconsciously to face away from the opening. A small droplet of water hit the remaining nut, clinging to its curved surface for a moment before soaking into the earth beneath. The nut shivered, and a small root broke from its surface to sink into the earth below. It began to grow. Chapter 4 Leon was warm and comfortable, blanket pulled up close to his chest. Daylight filtered through his eyelids, lighting up the veiny canvas in shades of red and black. He lay there in a semi-conscious state, appreciating the afterglow of a good night¡¯s rest, before being aware of a pressing pain in his bladder. Uncomfortable, he shifted in his sleep, his blanket rustling as he tried to ignore the pressing pain. He lay there for a few moments more, before an insidious, sleep-ruining thought twisted his contented expression into a slight frown. Three words wormed their way into his mind, whispering sinisterly into his subconscious. Blankets don¡¯t rustle. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. For a moment, he could¡¯ve been back in the forest again, had it not been for the bare earth on his exposed back. The hollow was filled to the brim with branches and leaves, a fair number of which had grown directly over him as he slept. The thought that this had all grown in one night seemed impossible, but as the hazy memories from yesterday of a bird with a wingspan of a Boeing and a tree spearing a mouse in midair came into recollection, he didn¡¯t think it impossible. He pulled himself loose of the mess, wincing as he planted his right forearm against the floor. Right, that was still the same. The pain cleared some of the fuzziness out of his head though, and he was able to take a more concrete grasp of his surroundings. He could still see the opening of the hollow in which he resided, and his tattered shirt, currently serving as a climbing rack for the plant who had taken up residence in his sleep. After a couple of minutes of quiet investigation, he determined the point of origin, a thick stem pulling out of the dirt. The dirt around the base was upraised and loose, further supporting the theory that this had occurred overnight, and he soon recognised the leaves as the bush-like plant where he had gathered the nuts he had eaten the night before. His thoughts immediately fell upon to the worst possible option, and he felt at his stomach. He sighed in relief at the lack of branches emerging from his bellybutton. He slowly made his way towards the dim light of the entrance, cautiously sidling around the patch where he had left the berries the night before just in case. In an unfortunate turn of events, his shirt was, surprisingly, more wet than before he had hung it up, and the reason why was evident as he pulled it free of its wooded prison and made his way outside. His bare hand contacted wet grass as he ducked through the opening. It had rained. His thoughts picked up pace as he tried to come up with some kind of rational connection in all of this, his brain pistoning up to max speed. His wounds were healed, the plants grew overnight and the animals were ridiculous and there was nothing linking it but- He stopped, eyes widening as he realised. Nothing but water. He remembered the lake, how it had been so crystal clear. He remembered the branch he had hit on the way down, and the pain that had disappeared as he swam through the lake. He remembered the water he had drunk from his shirt, and the wound that had healed as it did.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The water was magic. He finally put his finger down on the overlying feeling that he had felt everywhere he had gone, but couldn¡¯t place it. It was actual bloody magic! Though that wasn¡¯t quite right, even. It was almost like¡­ a flavour. Despite his misgivings, he had yet to see a fire spitting mouse or a bug made of lightning. It was more like growth, or¡­ He contemplated as he attended to his needs, but was distracted from his chain of thought by a tickling sensation creeping up his legs, and he looked down to spot the patch of grass he was peeing on slowly climbing up his pants. ¡°Jesus!¡± He jumped back, the grass continuing to grow as he watched. Note to self, be more self-aware while peeing. He finished off on a different tree, keeping watch as the grass below stretched up eagerly. That¡¯s creepy as hell. He stopped, backpedaling a couple steps of thought as he stared down at the grass, neurons slowly but steadily tying together a thread of information. Wait, if the water is magical, and the magical water makes plants grow, and assuming that rain came mostly from that lake, which is why the nutbush grew in the first place, then doesn¡¯t that mean... His eyes widened. My pee is magical. He held that thought for a moment before deciding it probably wasn¡¯t entirely accurate. What it would more likely mean, if he wasn¡¯t applying too much of Earth¡¯s ideas towards magic, is that he actually had a decent amount of magic in him. Mana. That would make sense. But if he had mana, how could he use it? He lay back against the comforting sturdiness of the giant tree, absentmindedly squeezing more moisture out of his shirt to drink. How could he use it? He sat there for a fair amount of time, before taking a break to forage a late breakfast. He stuck to travelling upwind, keeping watch of the position of the star above (It wasn¡¯t the Sun, at least. He¡¯d name it later). He knew what to expect from the Anglerbarks, as he¡¯d taken to calling them, so the sickly sweet smell would give him some much needed warning. Plus, this way he¡¯d have less chance to run into a giant wolf or something who¡¯d smelled him from ahead and was waiting in ambush. He returned soon after, the biggest turn of events was a near miss from a dog-sized, termite-like group of insects that was slowly turning one of the colossal trees that filled the forest into a towering fortress. They had taken great offense to his presence. After the initial fright, he¡¯d easily outpaced them on the ground, thanking whatever entity was assisting his bumbling attempts at survival for the save. After a hearty brunch of nuts and berries (he was careful to eat the lot this time, considering the excess would probably just sprout while he wasn¡¯t looking) and clearing out the hollow (along with installing a makeshift door out of the branches and long grass), he thought some more about magic. Letting his inner child run wild, he drew some circles in the dirt and tried to force his ¡®energy¡¯ into them. Besides from looking like an idiot for a fair few minutes, and reminding himself of when he used to try lifting pencils with his mind as a kid, nothing happened. Running out of patience, he grew more and more frustrated as the day went on, until with a start of frustration he slammed his fist onto the ground. He shut his eyes, breathing deeply. There was no point in getting angry. It might not even work, and if it didn¡¯t happen in a while, he¡¯d just have to move onto his next step and get ready to hike his way out of the forest. He sat down in the middle of his hollow, breathing in deeply through his nose and out through his mouth, and focused on his breathing. Meditation and mindfulness were not about the absence of thought, but centering oneself, and that began with focusing solely on what was within him, rather than without. In. Hold. Out. He felt the crisp cool air fill his lungs, his diaphragm sinking down towards his stomach. He straightened his posture and became aware of the aches and pains around his body. He felt his stomach, full and content at his center. He felt his arms, and legs, and extended his aware to the tips of his fingers and toes. Then, one by one, he shut them out. This was the hardest part, and only became harder the more things he lost awareness of, but he did not break the state of calm he felt by trying to force himself at the problem, merely letting the sensations of the world fade away, muted in the darkness. That¡¯s when he felt it. Below his chest and above his waist, centered at his navel. His focus was practically subconscious now, and his mouth twitched at the cliche spot to store his power. He focused in on it, and as his consciousness folded inwards to meet it, he felt something click. He felt the heartbeat of a forest, from its tallest trees to its tiniest creatures. The idea of it stuck to his tongue, almost realised, but¡­ incomplete. He felt something shift, and he opened his eyes. Floating in front of him was a ring, shining like silver. Despite the dimming light of day, the sun trapped behind the trailing dregs of last night¡¯s storm, it shone brightly as if lit from within. In the center were two words, in flowing cursive. Mana Affinity The ring was separated into twelve denominations. Each marked with a roman numeral, with the cardinal points matching those on a clock. Every band before the seventh shone brightly with a stark bright light, the numeral helpfully marked in a contrasting bold black. The eighth only partially glowed, a dim light shining transparently from within the silvery segment. Leon¡¯s eyes widened, and he smiled widely. Finally, we¡¯re getting somewhere! Chapter 5 After a quick forage, Leon returned to the tree, absently smashing nut casings with a rock and picking out the insides as he fiddled with his newfound power. He went through idea after idea of what he could find. The majority failed to give the desired effect, but he had finally managed to call up a design for his ¡®status¡¯. It was a similarly designed ring to the first, nicely fitting with the aesthetic, also sharing twelve bands, each labeled with a word that floated above that segment in the same neat cursive:
Name: Leon Race: Human Mana Type: Forming 61%
Strength: 10 Dexterity: 8 Agility: 8
Constitution: 11 Vitality: 9 Resistance: 9
Intelligence: 9 Wisdom:13 Control: 8
The difference, however, was a smaller central ring, which contained three glassy transparent sections, the contents within separated by 3 colours. Red for health, green for stamina, blue for mana. They were pretty much full. It was hard to tell accurately, so he pushed at his thoughts, trying to get the percentage display. With some resistance, it reluctantly relented, appearing in the vials themselves as a proper percentage. He felt he might be able to do more customisation given time, but this was the best he could do for now. He looked outside. The sun had passed out from the clouds, and with it, he got a better sense for the length of time left in the day. Now that he had been awake for the full period, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the day was longer here than on Earth. It would be the least of the peculiarities if that was the case. The information told him one thing quite clearly, and he once again pulled out the band for Mana Affinity. He would have to complete this if he wanted to actually put magic into practice, and he knew of only one place to go for it. He put his freshly dried shirt back on, and stepped outside. He grabbed the straightest branch he could find and snapped it over his knee, leaving behind a wickedly sharp point. The wood was dry and hard, and would be easy to break, but it would do for now. It was time to go back to the lake. * * * The lake excursion wasn¡¯t going well. The journey there had gone well enough. He had spotted a few new creatures along the way, and it came to his attention that the foliage had grown thicker since he was last there, as he constantly found himself lost in a thicket, having to travel a long way around. Was the magic lake recent? If so, how did it get here? How long had it been there? Eventually, he got to a section where he felt it was thinnest, or at least safest, and he plunged in. Many muttered curses, insect bites and scratched clothes later, he gave one last push, careful not to jar his still stiffly swollen arm, and broke through. He crouched low, looking intently out at the beach through the bushy cover and trying to ignore the multitude of sticks stabbing into his ass. He waited a fair while, spotting nothing but the ripples of the water, and just as he was about to creep out from behind his cover and into the clearing, the mouse returned. He looked in shock at the thing that was once a mouse. It had grown to about the height of a Great Dane, bordered with the bulk and width of a Newfoundland, and from its fur grew a thin coating of green tinted moss. In the forest, it would have been nearly impossible to see. It sniffed at the air, raising its razor sharp front teeth into full view, then trotted back into the undergrowth. After a tense moment, it returned, dragging something out of the bushes along with it. Leon watched in shock as the mouse pulled the bear out of the undergrowth. As in a full sized, steal your picnic, prevent forest fires, buzzing of the bees full-on bear. It had barely a wound on it, except for a thick gash in its neck, which left a trail of red as it was dragged into the clearing. The trail of blood was slowly obscured as the plants nearby rose up, greedily sucking up the meal.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. The mouse had nearly killed him when it was small, and it had only wanted to chase him off. Now, it wouldn¡¯t even be a match. The mouse finished dragging the bear into the clearing, and then darted off into a bush. Leon sat there, breathing as quietly as possible. To his right, there was a loud, heavy rustling, and into the clearing came an enormous paw, followed by another, and two more. And another two. The hexapedal behemoth stalked into the clearing, footfalls quiet enough to almost make it seem like a visual illusion. Its head was long and forward, tapering out like a horse¡¯s, but its mouth stretched a large way back, ending in a forced leer, filled with rows of jagged teeth. Its body from there was akin to a big cat, a lion or a leopard, with two pairs of front legs bunched closely together. It glided over to the bear¡¯s corpse, which was in the process of being buried by the grass that surrounded it, and sniffed it for a moment, nose huffing out air. Its neck bent down, and it bit into the bear¡¯s thick hide, tearing open a section of flesh and exposing the muscle and bone within. Leon watched it eat, before a brief flicker of movement drew his eyes, pulling them over to the edge of the clearing where the mouse hid. There, he watched as it crawled out, ever so slowly, keeping out of the scope of the behemoth¡¯s sight, and he felt a shiver down his spine. The bear hadn¡¯t been a meal. It had been bait. Leon weighed up his options. He could let the mouse have the ambush, and let him kill the giant thing for whatever reason it wished to do that. He could let the little thing that had nearly killed him, broken his fucking arm and kicked him out of the one place where he knew he could get his magic and heal up... Leon looked down. There, near his feet, he saw a rock. He picked it up with his left arm. It fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. ...or he could have a little revenge. * * * The mouse was nearly close enough. It had learned from kill after kill the perfect distance to travel where the prey had no chance to stop you, no matter their size. It felt inside of it the power that bubbled within him, the threshold it needed to pass. This giant, clumsy thing practically oozed power, and it set its hair on end to look at. It was all going perfectly, and then there was a whistle of air, and the sound of a rock thumping behind it. The mouse froze in place, and the behemoth stopped eating. It lifted its head, forward facing eyes settling on the mouse. The mouse hissed, ambush advantage lost, and threw itself forward. * * * Leon watched from the bushes as the two titans clashed, wishing he had some popcorn. Despite its added bulk, the mouse didn¡¯t look to have lost any speed, blurring from spot to spot faster than Leon¡¯s eyes could track. It scored wound after wound on the behemoth, who roared in anger. The behemoth was doing a reasonably good job as well. It moved with a speed and grace that belied its size, and twice it came close to taking down the blurry form of the mouse. It also didn¡¯t look like the mouse was making many deep wounds. It came down, then, to a battle of stamina. Leon felt safe in shifting his position now, clearing his pants of sticks as best he could. The behemoth managed to catch the mouse by the tail, and was rewarded with a claw to the eye. It roared in pain, and began to attack with renewed frenzy. And then the sky went dark. Leon looked up just in time to spot the massive bird plunge from above. Its claws raked across the behemoth¡¯s back, and its roar shook the forest. The mouse moved quickly, taking advantage of the behemoth¡¯s momentary weakness to strike- And it was flung aside as behemoth swiped it out of the air. He flew into the undergrowth, and the two remaining giants struck. The bird hovered above, screeching down at the behemoth below. The flapping of its wings sent arcs of water flying up from the lake below. The behemoth wasn¡¯t backing down though, and after a long stand-off, the eagle gave up, flying up to the nest above. The behemoth snarled up at it, but it could only glower at the bird up above, preening its feathers as it stared down at the tantruming giant below. Eventually, the behemoth gave up, and bent down over the water to drink. Leon watched, astonished, as the deep gashes on its back closed over. It stared up at the bird above one last time before walking out the way it came. Leon waited a bit, before finally getting up and walking into the clearing. He stumbled as his legs finally remembered their jobs. He hadn¡¯t noticed how long he¡¯d been squatting there, and it made him conscious of just how unfit he was, despite his fairly fat-free body. He walked down to the water¡¯s edge, and cupping a hand, he lifted a small amount of the clear water to his mouth, and drank. The water slid down his throat, and as it did he felt a tingling warmth fill his body. It spread from his stomach outwards in a slow, pulsing wave, before it finally reached his arms. He seized up, a scream cutting out in his throat as he felt pain pierce through his arm. He gasped short stuttering breaths as his arm locked in place. It lasted a few seconds and an eternity before he heard a snap, and his vision faded to black. He somehow didn¡¯t fall unconscious, vision returning as the pain disappeared, as if it was never there. He lay there, panting, and flexed his hand. It was tender, and weak as all hell, but it was functional, which was more than he could say it had been since he encountered that little mouse at the lake. As he sat up, he heard a rustle. He turned his head, hand settling on his makeshift poking stick. Out of the tall grass which surrounded the stony beach of the lake, the thing that was once a mouse limped forward. It held one of its front paws up and to the side. Leon had come ready to kill the mouse, or at the very least give it a memento worth holding on to, but at this point he would gladly ignore the thing if it ignored him. It didn¡¯t, and even weakened as it was it hissed at him, limping forwards. Leon sighed, and pulled himself up into a crouching position, bracing his weak grip against the stony shoreline. If it just went over to the water and got a drink, he would be on his way, no fight necessary, but it was obvious that he wasn¡¯t getting the luxury. The mouse broke into a stuttering gallop, still impressively fast despite its wounds. It feinted a jump left, gauging his response, before making its choice. It was quick, and its back legs were powerful. It was already much stronger than this puny little thing that invaded its territory. If it had been at full strength, it would have taken him down without it being able to blink. It was right about that, but it was too young and too arrogant to know its own limits. In a quick movement, it planted its feet, guided its arc, and leapt through the air, claws and jaw open wide. In the air, it barely had time to register its final, fatal mistake. It had misjudged the jump. Leon twisted and the world slowed, the stick moving through the air like it was treacle. The mouse was fast, but it could do nothing to maneuver once it was in the air, and soon the makeshift spear was in its path. As it contacted, the weight of the mouse made itself known, and the blunt end of the stick buried shoved back in Leon¡¯s stomach, knocking the air out of him. The stick sunk into the mouse¡¯s chest, slipping through two ribs and colliding with the back of the ribcage as it snapped. Leon and the mouse collided, and together they fell into the water. The water closed around his head, and his chest clenched as his lack of air became apparent. In the clearing above, all was silent, save for the birds and the wind. The ripples of the splash spread, before fading to nothing. A small section of water bubbled, then fell still. Chapter 6 Leon breached the water and gasped in a huge breath. He pulled himself fully out of the water and fell against the stone beach, panting. The pain in his stomach flared up as the water did its work, and he gasped in breaths as best he could. Out in the water, the corpse of the mouse bobbed gently. He was alive. Somehow, he was alive. That had been the first real fight of his life, and it had lasted all of three seconds. He felt like he should be disappointed, but he was struggling to feel much of anything except relief at the air which he greedily gulped in. He felt a feeling of warmth spread through him. It was a welcome change from the bone chilling cold of the water. A small part of him wanted to black out right now, but the adrenaline that pumped through him wouldn¡¯t allow that yet, so he propped himself up and called up his Mana Affinity wheel. It was complete. He watched the final section go bright as the warmth in his chest sunk into his core and dissipated. He waited for some big announcement. Did he have magic now or what? He waited a bit, checking over his status and affinity to see if anything changed, but the wheels stayed stubbornly constant. He sighed. Something to deal with later. He looked around for a way to carry it, but it looked like that wouldn¡¯t happen soon either. He looked over at the corpse of the mouse as it was slowly picked apart by a multitude of little fish. He wondered how his friends were. He hoped they weren¡¯t too broken up over the whole thing. Well, more specifically he hoped they cried about it for a bit before moving on with great guilt and sorrow, before eventually having fond memories of him as they lived their own lives years into the future. He laughed at the thought for a bit, happy in his own company for a little while. As he contemplated whether or not to get up and move somewhere else before he eventually blacked out, he heard something in the distance. Like consecutive rolls of thunder. He looked in the direction of the noise. The sky was clear of clouds. What was it?The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. The rumbling grew louder and was soon accompanied by the sound of cracking branches and shaking leaves. Leon stood up and so too did the bird up above, both searching for the source, before the source found them The behemoth had returned, and it had a goal. It flew over the ground, paws smacking against earth like the rumble of thunder, and then it was up. Leon watched in disbelief as the giant beast flung itself up the cliff like it was running on land. It snagged its feet on an outcropping, before leaping towards the nest. The bird shrieked, and was struck, and the pair fell towards earth. Half the nest came down with them, and Leon barely managed to avoid a falling log as the bulk of it fell to meet him. He fell, scrambling backwards as the nest contacted the water. Nearby, he watched as the behemoth and the bird brawled. Considering what the mouse had tried to pull already despite its injuries, he doubted the victor would be happy with his presence. He was about to get up and run when a flicker of white drew his vision. Somehow caught by the branches of a bush, there was a single intact egg. He stared at it, for some reason feeling inextricably drawn to it. He could leave it there, of course. Worst came to worst, the panther would eat it and it would never be seen from again, but as he watched the two giant monsters¡¯ struggle move inextricably towards the bush, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to leave it there. He was caught in a trap of thought and his legs made the decision for him. He ran for the bush, diving under a flailing wing, and drove his arms into the bush, finding a strength he hadn¡¯t known he¡¯d had. His hands wrapped around the egg, and he ran. Not a moment later, the bush was crushed beneath the full weight of the behemoth as it was flung away from its rampaging opponent. Leon ran, and he didn¡¯t stop until the sound of the fight faded into nothing, and he entered a familiar patch of forest. A few minutes of walking later, and he found his hollow. He collapsed on the packed earth, barely mustering the energy to shut the makeshift door behind him. He lay there shivering, cold, tattered clothes heavy on his skin. The egg was large, and as he held it close to his chest he felt a lingering warmth. His shivering slowly stilled, and soon he was fast asleep. With that, the day drew to a close. * * * By the lake, in the dim light of dusk, the roc tore chunks of flesh from the still form of the behemoth. It had been a powerful opponent, and had he been a younger bird he would have relished the opportunity of such a fight. Now, he had a duty. To protect the young she had left behind. He had cleaned himself in the healing waters, taking barely any notice as his wing snapped into its correct shape. Even as he ate, the damage the beast had done was fading as the dusk. Forgotten. He scaled the cliff, claws digging into the stone like it was loose earth. There, he found the ruins of his nest. He nudged around in the rubble, searching for her eggs. He found none. He glided down and searched the lake. Her eggs were nowhere to be found. He spotted something white among the wreckage strewn across the beach, and he hopped towards it. The egg was shattered, and he stared down at the still form of the nearly hatched chick. He nudged it, and for a second it moved before going still. He cried out, a broken wail piercing the sky. That was, until he heard a thin squeak. He looked down at the chick. It was moving, ever so slightly. He closed his beak around it, lifting its tiny form upwards to safety. It flew down once more, feeling the weakness that came with the water¡¯s healing. He lifted up a mouthful of water. By the time he had reached the nest once more, it was warm, and he poured into the small divot in which the underdeveloped chick lay. It grew, ever so slowly, and the roc felt sleep drawing near. He curled up around the chick, wing covering its body. He would keep it safe. No matter what. Chapter 7 Leon was dragged from sleep in the early hours of the morning a fiery sensation of heat spreading throughout his body. He felt his muscles spasm involuntarily as the tingling fingers of intangible flame spread up throughout his limbs, before pushing back further into his body in waves. Slowly, it pulled itself tighter and tighter just behind his navel, and as it did the warmth rose in intensity until he was gasping in breaths that came in like ice against his lungs. He was stuck there for what felt like hours before the flames died down, leaving him gasping, soaked in sweat, lying on his back. He stared up above him as a halo of light blinked into existence, eyes slowly focusing on the hazy silhouette. Above him, the previously silvery glow of his Mana Affinity ring had been washed away by a piercingly bright light that, despite how dominatingly bright it seemed, was soft on his vision. In the middle, in the same neat cursive as his Status, was a single word. A word that had been on the tip of his tongue since he had first come to this place. Life. He stared at it a few moments more, slowly regaining his breath, before closing his eyes, mentally dismissing the halo. There was no change in the light filtering through his eyelids, but when he opened his eyes the halo was gone. He slowly lifted his body, silently acknowledging the lack of stiffness or pain in his arm and, indeed, the rest of him. Looking around, he saw the plants which he still hadn¡¯t removed, and lying to his right, in a small divot that it had rolled into, was his egg. He slowly came up onto his hands and knees, taking his time, and crawled over to the egg. After a brief moment of consideration, he climbed out of the hollow that was his home, pushing the makeshift door before him. After a couple of minutes, he returned, carrying a bundle of sticks and twisted twigs which he began to twist around the egg. He didn¡¯t have a bird¡¯s skill at the task, in any sense of the word, but within a relatively brief period he¡¯d built himself a comfortable nest, which he padded with grass and leaves. On second consideration, he¡¯d come up with a new project, but his stomach alerted him to a different issue. After he¡¯d taken the time to forage about, picking what he could reasonably expect to eat and grabbing a drink from a small trickling stream (a survivor after the rain protected from the encroaching plants by the surrounding gravelly brush), he had made his way back to home. Tucked in his shirt in a weird sort of traveller¡¯s backpack was a sizable number of stones that might have been flint, and bundled in his arm was a hefty collection of flexible reeds and twigs he¡¯d collected along the way. He noticed, rather alarmingly, that the trees were becoming more dense. Hopefully, without any significant rain in the near future, it wouldn¡¯t be too much of a problem, but if things started to look like the situation around the lake, he¡¯d be forced to find a new refuge. He climbed back into his little hollow, surprised slightly by the change in temperature as he stepped in through the admittedly incredibly draughty entrance. Near the back, the egg sat in its makeshift home. Stooping forwards and placing his hand gingerly upon its smooth, white surface, he felt the warmth radiating off of the egg and smiled. It brought him a strange sense of contentment. A promise of a new beginning, perhaps. A new life. The train of thought changed once more to the direction of his friends and family that he had left behind, before he forcefully shut the thought out of his mind. They would be fine. It was up to him to make sure that he didn¡¯t make them worry any more, and that started with getting things done. He briefly attempted his first project idea, before giving it up about twenty stones in. Likewise, his basket project required a bit more of a time investment than he currently wanted, so he simply laid out his materials to dry and turned towards something a little less physical. Cross-legged in the center of his cave, he pulled up his Status.
Name: Leon Race: Human Type: Zoetic
Strength: 10 Dexterity: 8 Agility: 8
Constitution: 11 Vitality: 9 Resistance: 9
Intelligence: 9 Wisdom:13 Control: 8This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
It was mostly unchanged, exempting the three points of light now orbiting between his central ring of Health, Mana and Stamina and the ring forming his statistics. They were identical aside from the fact that each glowed a different brightness. Frowning contemplatively, Leon pushed at one with his mind. A small spark of understanding passed invisibly between him and the point of light, and he understood its purpose. Directing his gaze at his stats, he saw now the realms of potential within each one. A brief assumption led him to realise that the magic within him was most likely a very important aspect to his survival, but he held off on selecting them just yet. He didn¡¯t really know what was going to be most important in the future, so he¡¯d have to consider carefully before making any real choice. Instead, he closed his Status and his eyes, and began to breathe. Repeating the same process he had when he¡¯d first discovered his mana, he shut off his focus one by one. It was almost easier, now that there was a pulsing ball of warmth to focus on. He drew his awareness within himself, feeling the pulsing glow of his mana like a lamp in the darkness. He began to focus his will on his mana, attempting to pull at the warmth and drag it out. He managed to drag it away a little, like kneading heavy dough between his hands, before he gave up, not able to push any further. After a little while more of this futility, he gave in and attempted a different approach. Staring at the mana as he pulled it, he began to sense something. A sort of aimlessness as it was pulled, as if it was resisting the path simply because it didn¡¯t have a place to go. After a brief moment of contemplation, Leon tentatively pushed his awareness back out into his right arm. This was more difficult than simply having no bodily awareness at all, in a way, as the weight of his arm and shoulder threatened to drag the connecting parts into focus. He steadied his breathing, once again turning his mind to both the palm of his hand and the pool of magic at his center. Slowly, he traced a line between the two points, and began dragging the mana from one to the other. At first it was slow, the mana objecting to the rough pathway it was given. By the time it was at his wrist, he was straining, a gossamer-thin strand of mana moving at a snail¡¯s pace up his arm, and from the outside his face was scrunched and tense, his breath hissing steadily between his teeth. Finally, it clicked against the point of his hand, and his concentration was shook as his mana began pushing out of him in a rushing flow. It was even making the flow up his arm more efficient as it went, correcting the crooked errors in the line he had traced from Point A to Point B. Opening his eyes for a brief moment, he looked down at his hand, only to see the light of his mana pushing out of his hand like a plume of white dust. Possibilities flickered through his mind as to the problem, before he latched onto one. It had followed the path, but had nothing to collect it on the other side. Thinking quickly as his core slowly dwindled like a deflating balloon (Leon felt a tinge of anxiety at what might happen if it fully emptied), he closed the access point, shutting off the flow, only to feel himself straining against the flow of mana once more, this time holding it back instead of dragging it forward. As he clenched his jaw against the flow of mana, he pulled up the only image that came to the forefront of his mind and overlaid it on his palm. His mental grip on the stopper released, and he felt his mana gush outwards. Where it stopped. Opening his eyes, Leon lifted his arm in front of him, staring down at the thin, silvery ring that sat above his palm. Unlike his Mana Affinity wheel, this one was solid in colour, revealing no trace of the stark, white mana that he knew coursed within it. Calling up his status, he saw that, as expected, the level of the navy-blue transparent liquid that represented his mana had dropped significantly, the percentage display now showing a neatly written 38%. Also of note was a new, smaller ring, which sat angled to the left of his Status like a complementary mirror. Etched into its top was a single word. Skills. Inside, there was only a single entry, which struck Leon as rather petty. Rather than waste what was left of his tired psyche complaining about it, he just read it. Arcanography That was the second uncommon word which had popped up in his Status, the first being his new Mana Type. ¡®Arcanography¡¯ was foreign to him, but the other word, zoetic, was more immediately recognisable. It was rather obscure, but from memory he was fairly sure it meant ¡®of or relating to life¡¯, which in this instance very much described the magic that permeated this forest. He had never heard the latter word before, but he remembered enough from high school English to work out the prefix and suffix. It was basically just a compounded form of the phrase ¡®arcane writing¡¯. With those facts in mind, he dismissed his Status and focused once more on the ring that floated above his palm. He could feel the mana inside, coursing lazily within. Recalling the vague memories of old fantasy novels that he¡¯d read as a kid, he drew a small symbol in the middle, using his finger as a stylus. The symbol was simple, two vertical, parallel lines, with the one on the right bending over to join with the left, like a taller, simplified ¡®n¡¯. As he lifted his finger away, he became aware of a strange tugging sensation, somewhat akin to standing close to a high drop and having that feeling of falling, even when you were perfectly safe. The potential of the symbol called out to him, and he gave the first description that came to mind. Grow. Immediately the mana in the ring pulsed out into the shape, and as Leon watched in surprise as it warped the symbol, solidifying it into a bold, white shape. The spell was ready. He looked around for a viable target, and saw a loose stick sitting on the earth. For lack of a better option, he pointed his palm towards it, and the symbol flew across the hollow. As it contacted the errant twig, it shook for a brief moment. Then it exploded into motion. The stick rapidly elongated, and Leon flinched back as it stretched from one side of the hollow to the other. It cracked against the wooden walls, holding firm, and he turned his head to see it had impacted inches from his face. Well, he thought, that was something. He took hold of the stick with both hands and, after a moment of exertion, he managed to break the surprisingly firm wood in two, pulling it free of its holdings. Thankfully, it had not merged with the tree, and it was clear that after the mana had been spent it had returned to the same dry twig it was before. On a hunch, Leon called up his Status once more, turning his attention towards his skills. As expected, there was another. Sitting beneath Arcanography, a new entry had appeared, labeled Rapid Growth. Despite his mental weariness, he couldn¡¯t help the grin that stretched across his face. Now we¡¯re talking.