A few weeks had passed since Anthony Blatchford’s dramatic arrival in the village of Rivaris. During this time, his remarkable knack for languages had proven invaluable, allowing him to quickly grasp Thelevan, the local tongue. Anthony's ability to communicate with the villagers, though still peppered with occasional errors, had progressed to an intermediate, almost advanced level. His newfound skill had opened doors to conversations and friendships that enriched his understanding of this new world.

One such friendship was with Mavros, a hunter and farmer by trade. Mavros was a robust man in his early thirties, with a weathered face that bore the marks of a life spent outdoors. He had a kind, patient demeanor, which made him an ideal companion for Anthony as he navigated the intricacies of village life.

The morning sun filtered through the trees as Anthony made his way to the fields with Emeric and Lorkan. Life in Rivaris had a rhythm of its own, a simplicity that was both captivating and challenging. As they tended to the crops, making sure no pests or unwanted animals were destroying their hard work, Anthony couldn’t help but marvel at the efficiency and resilience of the villagers.

"Morning, Anthony," Mavros greeted as they crossed paths. He was heading towards the forest, bow slung over his shoulder.

"Good morning, Mavros," Anthony replied, his Thelevan tinged with an accent he couldn’t quite shake. "Heading out to hunt?"

"Aye, the forest is teeming with game today," Mavros said, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "Care to join us later?"

Anthony nodded eagerly, grateful for the opportunity to learn more about hunting in this world. "I’ll meet you there after we’re done in the fields."

Through observation, Anthony had deduced that almost all the villagers in Rivaris knew how to use weapons, primarily through hunting. Even the women were adept with bows, a necessity given the village’s location on the edge of a dangerous region. The forests surrounding Rivaris towards the north, south, and east, up to the Muril Mountains, were teeming with dangerous beasts. Only the road going west through the farmlands and then the forest towards the hills remained relatively safe for travel.

The village of Rivaris was larger than most medieval villages Anthony had studied on Earth. With a population of around 600 people, it was one of the largest in the area, surrounded by six other villages, all under the jurisdiction of a regional lord. Anthony had yet to learn more about this region, a task he mentally assigned to himself for the near future. Old man Nolan, with his cranky yet knowledgeable disposition, seemed like the perfect candidate to quench Anthony’s curiosity.

Life in Rivaris was simple, yet there was a charm to its mundanity. The villagers’ growing acceptance of Anthony was evident in their interactions, though there was still an undercurrent of curiosity in their gazes. Emeric brushed it off as Anthony being a new face, but Anthony suspected his unusual appearance played a part. His platinum blonde hair, almost white in color, was a stark contrast to the predominantly dark-haired villagers.

Despite this, the village’s communal nature was something Anthony had grown to appreciate deeply. The days began just before dawn, with Anthony helping Thalia and Talia prepare breakfast for the family. The segmented sleep pattern of the villagers, a common practice in the medieval period, had become second nature to him. This pattern involved sleeping in two distinct periods, with a few hours of wakefulness in between, often used for chores or quiet reflection.

After breakfast, Anthony would accompany Emeric and Lorkan to the fields. The villagers worked diligently, ensuring the crops were free from pests and properly tended. It was during these early hours that Anthony would often exchange greetings with other villagers.

"Good morning, Tessa," Anthony greeted a young woman passing by, her basket full of freshly picked herbs.

"Good morning, Anthony," she replied with a warm smile. "How are the fields today?"

"Looking good, no pests in sight," Anthony said, feeling a sense of accomplishment in his contribution.

As the sun climbed higher, the trio would venture into the forest to hunt. On this particular day, they planned to join forces with Tavian and Mavros, who had spotted an Ursar near the forest’s edge. Ursars, massive creatures standing between three to four meters tall with the body of a bear and the head of a rabbit, were rare and formidable opponents.

Emeric explained that Ursars typically lived on Muril Mountain and rarely ventured beyond their territory. "This one must have been driven out," he said, his tone serious. "They’re extremely territorial and won’t leave unless they’re desperate."

The team, consisting of ten men armed with long bows and spears, moved cautiously through the forest. The sight of the Ursar, a towering beast with matted fur and a fierce glare, sent a shiver down Anthony's spine. It was clear the creature was both angry and hungry.

The battle that ensued was intense. Arrows flew through the air, and spears thrust forward as the hunters engaged the Ursar. Despite its weakened state, the creature fought fiercely, its roars echoing through the forest. Anthony’s heart pounded as he dodged a swipe of the Ursar’s massive paw, the force of the blow leaving a deep gouge in the earth where he had stood moments before.

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Emeric’s voice cut through the chaos. "Keep your distance! Use your bows!" he commanded, his leadership steadying the group.

It took what felt like an eternity, but they finally brought the Ursar down. As the creature fell, a collective sigh of relief washed over the group. While they rested, Emeric turned to Anthony, a weary smile on his face.

"We were lucky," he said. "If it hadn’t been weakened and hungry, this could have ended very differently."

Anthony nodded, grateful for the insight. "I’ll remember that. Thank you, Emeric."

The villagers returned to Rivaris with their prize, the Ursar’s carcass providing enough meat to be shared among several families. Anthony noted the efficiency with which the villagers processed the meat, ensuring nothing went to waste.

In the late afternoon, they would visit Neron, the village’s skilled smith. The simplicity and communal nature of life in Rivaris had a growing appeal to Anthony. As spring gave way to summer, he found himself increasingly at ease in this world, appreciating the hard work and camaraderie of the villagers.

During these months, Anthony’s daily routine became well-established. He had grown accustomed to the segmented sleep pattern, a fascinating practice he had read about but never experienced firsthand. This pattern, typical of medieval life, involved two distinct periods of sleep with a few hours of wakefulness in between. Villagers used this time for various activities, from household chores to quiet reflection and prayer.

Anthony’s mornings began just before dawn, when the first light of day painted the sky with hues of pink and orange. He would help Thalia and Talia prepare breakfast for the family, a simple yet hearty meal that fueled them for the day ahead. This time with Thalia and Talia was cherished, their cheerful banter and warm smiles a source of comfort and stability.

After breakfast, Anthony joined Emeric and Lorkan in the fields. The work was physically demanding, but Anthony relished the opportunity to contribute. He learned to identify and address various pests, ensuring the crops remained healthy and vibrant. The villagers’ knowledge of agriculture was extensive, and Anthony found himself constantly learning new techniques and methods.

Occasionally, Anthony would encounter other villagers in the fields, exchanging greetings and pleasantries. One such encounter was with an elderly woman named Elysia, who was renowned for her herbal remedies.

"Good morning, Anthony," Elysia greeted him with a toothless smile. "How are you finding the fields today?"

"Good morning, Elysia," Anthony replied, returning her smile. "The crops are looking healthy, thanks to everyone’s hard work."

Elysia nodded approvingly. "You’re a quick learner, young man. It’s good to see you fitting in so well."

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Anthony and the others would head into the forest to hunt. Hunting was a vital part of village life, providing meat and other resources necessary for survival. Anthony’s initial inexperience with hunting was soon replaced by a growing competence, guided by the seasoned hunters like Emeric, Tavian, and Mavros.

One particularly memorable hunt involved tracking a herd of Cervars, large deer-like creatures with impressive antlers. The group moved silently through the forest, their movements synchronized and precise. Anthony felt a surge of adrenaline as they closed in on their prey.

Emeric signaled for the group to stop, raising his hand. "There they are," he whispered, pointing towards a clearing where the Cervars grazed.

Anthony’s heart pounded as he nocked an arrow, drawing his bowstring back. The tension was palpable, the silence broken only by the soft rustling of leaves. On Emeric’s signal, they released their arrows simultaneously. The Cervars bolted, but several fell to the ground, struck by the hunters’ arrows.

The thrill of the hunt was exhilarating, but Anthony also felt a deep sense of respect for the animals they hunted. He understood the importance of balance, taking only what was necessary to sustain the village.

After a successful hunt, the group would return to Rivaris, their catch shared among the villagers. Excess meat was often sold to Oris and Caelira, the village’s butchers, who expertly processed and preserved the meat. The communal nature of the village was evident in these moments, as everyone contributed and benefited from each other’s efforts.

In the afternoons, Anthony and the other men would often visit Neron, the blacksmith. Neron was a gruff but skilled artisan, his forge a place of intense heat and rhythmic hammering. Anthony was fascinated by the smithing process, watching as Neron transformed raw metal into tools, weapons, and various other items essential to village life.

"Neron, do you mind if I watch you work?" Anthony asked one day, his curiosity piqued.

Neron grunted, not one for many words. "As long as you don’t get in the way."

Anthony nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with interest. He observed Neron’s precise movements, the way he heated the metal until it glowed red-hot, then hammered it into shape. The blacksmith’s skill was evident in every strike, his expertise honed over years of practice.

Occasionally, Neron would explain his techniques, though his explanations were often brief and to the point. Anthony appreciated these moments, understanding that Neron’s reticence was not out of rudeness but a focus on his craft.

As summer approached, the village buzzed with activity. The fields flourished under the warm sun, the crops growing tall and verdant. The forest teemed with life, providing ample game for the hunters. The villagers worked tirelessly, their efforts ensuring a bountiful harvest and plentiful resources.

Anthony found himself increasingly at ease in this world, his initial disorientation replaced by a growing sense of belonging. The villagers’ acceptance of him, despite his unusual appearance and background, was a testament to their open-heartedness and resilience.

One evening, as the village gathered for a communal meal, Anthony reflected on his journey so far. The simple yet fulfilling life in Rivaris had brought him a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. The bonds he had formed with the villagers, the skills he had learned, and the challenges he had overcome had all contributed to his growth and adaptation.

As the sun set, casting a golden glow over the village, Anthony felt a deep sense of gratitude. He was far from home, in a world vastly different from his own, but Rivaris had become a second home to him. The journey ahead was uncertain, filled with unknowns and challenges, but Anthony was ready to face it with determination and hope.