Milo enjoyed hiking. He found it somehow both relaxing and invigorating. Especially with hikes in unfamiliar locations, there was the thrill of the unknown, of the possibility of discovering something new and exciting. Something that was just for him alone. The journey itself, however, was simply step after step. It was uncomplicated, and at times meditative. He could lose himself in the motion of his body, the beauty of his surroundings, or his own meandering thoughts.
He now fought his tendency to fall into that familiar groove, however. This was no pleasure hike. His life was at stake here, and as peaceful and idyllic as the surrounding forest appeared, danger could appear from behind any rise in the terrain. Heck, he could get a rash and die from brushing up against an innocent-looking plant for all he knew. He kept his head on a swivel and meticulously marked a tree roughly every twenty paces with the claw end of his hammer, scraping a big “X” on the trunk both facing the direction he was headed and the way he would return. Overkill, maybe, but he didn’t want to take chances. He couldn’t count the times he’d yelled at a fictional character for not doing an obvious thing that would give them a way higher chance of success. He was determined not to be an idiot.
About fifteen minutes in, he realized that he’d made an incredibly obvious trail for any ne’er-do-well to follow straight back to his camp. He sighed, mentally face-palming. Whatever. Most people are good, right? I’d probably prefer to be found, honestly.
He continued marking trees, dearly hoping he wasn’t being an idiot.
Being as watchful as he was, Milo couldn’t help but catch some glimpses of the local wildlife. Predominantly what he saw were squirrel-like creatures with fur that blended into the color of the faux redwoods’ tree bark. They had long, skinny tails, with much shorter fur than Earth squirrels and long, floppy ears. They would run on two legs in a funny gait whenever they dropped from the trees to scurry around on the ground, forelimbs raised high as if in a constant state of panic. Milo was deeply amused when two of them met up and started essentially boxing each other. It lasted a few minutes, the fight taking them around the base of a tree several times and culminating with one of them humping the other into oblivion.
Milo also saw some funky critters that looked a bit like green-brown, feathered iguanas. They were hard to spot, as they didn’t move very often, and when they did they were incredibly quick. The first one to do so had been practically underfoot and nearly made Milo jump out of his skin.
The biggest thing he saw looked like some kind of a cross between an anteater and a deer. Nearly black and probably a bit more than waist-high to Milo, they had long, slim legs that terminated in wide, dextrous-looking feet, with a long and incredibly bushy tail for how slender the beasts were. Their muscular shoulders supported a thick neck that blended almost seamlessly into their heads before tapering down to a semi-flexible, delicate-looking snout that reached the ground as they snuffled along.
Milo had stumbled upon a group of them no more than thirty yards away as he crested a rise. They’d turned and considered him with their enormous, almond-shaped eyes shortly after he appeared, then trotted off in a perpendicular direction from the one he was traveling in. It had felt vaguely magical to Milo. As weird as the beasts were to his Earthly sensibilities, they somehow managed a majestic quality.
He didn’t see much else in terms of wildlife, and there was a decided lack of bloodthirsty monsters, zombies, goblins, or anything of the like, for which Milo was immensely grateful.
By the time he’d reached an hour into his trek, having seen nothing but gentle woodland creatures, he was starting to relax. At two hours he felt downright comfortable and, despite his earlier determination to stay as vigilant as possible, he consciously took his paranoia down a notch. The squirrel-creatures are probably not planning to ambush me.
Upon reaching a clear, swift-moving stream roughly three hours into the trek, estimated by the sun and his own internal clock, Milo’s shoulders were killing him and he’d seen nothing but trees and wildlife. He decided to turn around, first drinking two bottles of Soylent and replacing the contents with water from the stream.
He’d gone through four total bottles of the liquid food on his hike, which was just one shy of what he’d planned as an entire day’s calories. He was troubled by this at first, but then he realized it was probably okay; he should get as many calories as he could in the coming days, then start rationing when it finally came time to leave his sister’s basement forever. He might have to shorten his explorations down to four or five days from seven, however.
The way back was significantly faster without having to double-mark the trees as he walked, despite taking increasingly frequent breaks to relieve his aching shoulders. On tomorrow’s hike I’m definitely taking only what I absolutely need, he thought with a wince during one such respite. It had possibly been a mistake to take a full pack with him. He’d lost a hand today, and somehow his shoulders were in much more pain than his wrist. As for the latter, it had settled into a dull throb he could mostly ignore, with the occasional sharp stab if he jostled it too much.
A little under two hours after turning around, Milo had successfully followed his trail all the way back to his disk of basement. It looked exactly as he left it, much to his relief. He’d been somewhat anxious to leave all of his stuff unattended, not knowing what might come to investigate in his absence. It seemed his fears were for nothing.
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With a groan of bliss, Milo slid his pack from his shoulders and dropped it to the ground, then flopped down onto his sleeping mat. He stared up through the yellow-green canopy at the hazy, slightly overcast sky for a few minutes, luxuriating in the feeling of relief.
He didn’t stay like that too long, however. There were things that needed doing.
First, food. He cracked open another plastic bottle of meal replacement drink, fervently grateful to his past self for ordering in bulk in the name of frugality. He also tried his first cautious sips of the water he’d collected at the stream. It was clear and tasted alright; hopefully he wouldn’t be puking his guts out later. He’d consciously waited until now to try it so he wouldn’t be stranded sick somewhere away from camp.
Next, he got out a black pen and one of the sheets of paper he’d decided not to take with him. If he was going to be exploring, he should probably be mapping things out. He wrote “N”, “S”, “E”, and “W” at their respective positions on the outer edges of the paper and drew a dot in the center of the paper, labelling it “camp.” Then he drew a line heading right, toward the “E”, and wrote “3 hours” along it. Next, he retrieved a blue pen and drew a small line with arrows running from south to north to represent the stream he’d found. Finally, he drew a series of faint dotted lines with the blue pen that ran perpendicular to the path traveled. These represented the semi-frequent dips he’d traversed in the rolling terrain. They hadn’t been streams, but they had been very spongy and wet. He got the impression this forest received a fair amount of water, or at the very least that it had rained a lot recently. He was a bit nervous about that actually, lacking any kind of shelter from the elements.
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Congratulations! By venturing into the wilderness and mapping your progress, you have gained access to the Explorer class.
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Oh. Neat! That made two classes now. These don’t seem terribly hard to achieve…
He mentally opened up his status and gave the new class a mental nudge.
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Explorer: Brave the unknown with confidence! Explorers are the intrepid few willing to risk their lives investigating new and dangerous lands so that other, more sensible people can follow safely in their wake.
-Gain knowledge and skills in orienteering and wilderness survival. No class fusions currently available.
Make Explorer your class? This choice is permanent. If chosen, all future fusions for your class must include this class (or its future variants).
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Milo declined and closed the interface with a sigh. Another dud. I don’t want to go to a magical land and specialize in skills I already learned in Boy Scouts. How do I get to the awesome classes? Actually, let’s narrow that down. How do I get magic?
As awesome as it sounded to be incredibly good with a sword or crazy strong or something, Milo preferred the idea of having mystical powers at his beck and call. That said, he didn’t much like the idea of being some glass cannon flinging fireballs around either, strong offensively but lacking in toughness. Well, fireballs would be cool…Okay, what he really wanted was magic powers and super strength. And flight. And super speed. Regeneration was a given. Invisibility would be nice too…
Focus, Milo. His tendency to let his mind wander and overthink things could get him into trouble here. What he needed was to tap that mana reservoir his status screen said he had. How could he do that?
…
…
No idea.
He didn’t feel any different than he had before he came to this place. Maybe…meditation? He shrugged internally. Worth a try.
Milo got in a comfortable position on the floor and, eyes closed, he did his best to meditate. This wasn’t his first time. The basic idea, as far as he knew, was to try to empty the mind, and to notice when thoughts arose and then release them. Focusing on the breath helped. He had found that he would feel a bit more centered and focused after he’d tried it in the past, but had never committed to making it a regular practice.
After ten minutes or so he opened his eyes, waiting expectantly for a message.
…
Damn.
Milo wasn’t done yet, however. Next, he tried closing his eyes again, this time actively searching inside himself for a well of mystical energy.
He gave up on that after a few minutes.
Alright, one more thing to try. He laid a pen in front of him on the floor, staring at it. Then, he stared at it…harder.
Come on. His forehead furrowed in concentration as he thought that, just maybe, he’d felt a whisper of something. Gritting his teeth, he reached down inside himself in a way he never had before as he tried to exert his will on the pen. Rise, he thought fiercely. All of his being was bent on convincing the pen to defy gravity and all reason, to float off of the carpet and into the air. Magic. And then all at once he felt…completely ridiculous. He relaxed, flopping onto his back.
I’m really glad no one was here to witness that.
Milo stared up at the sky. The sun was almost directly overhead, obscured by a thin layer of clouds. He’d started his hike only slightly after dawn, and there was still much of the day left. He should do something with it, but he didn’t think more exploring was the best idea. Magic had been a dead end so far, but maybe he should try for more classes? The first two had been pretty easy. Maybe if he found some more he could find two that had a fusion option, maybe see what that was about. He considered. Yep, it’s a plan.
Now, to find some low-hanging fruit…