As he grew accustomed to the light of the rising sun, he finally took in his surroundings. In the not-so-distant horizon stretched a long mountain range. He stood amidst a handful of trees near the hill’s base, nearly half of them cut down to stumps. One bore numerous cuts atop its surface. Downhill, he spotted a cluster of small wooden huts near a forest, in dire need of maintenance. Uphill, a side of a large building loomed, its tower menacingly peering over the hill as if scrutinising him. A wooden palisade encircled the area, stretching around the whole estate and disappearing behind the hill where his view couldn’t reach. Someone rich must be living in that mansion.
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Upon a second glance, he realised the gate through which he had entered was gone. Confusion mingled with relief. He had no intention of returning to that darkness, yet the notion lingered—might that gate have been an underground entrance to the mansion? He pondered silently, taking in the view. The ground beneath him felt soft, exuding the scent of wet grass. Around him, puddles dotted the mud, and a chill seeped into his feet, yet untouched by the sun’s warmth. It was clear that it had been raining the night before.
What the hell?
His hips were now covered in rags, modestly concealing him. Moments ago, he’d been naked. He didn’t remember putting them on. While that solved one problem he had, it only deepened the mystery. What was that place? Where am I? Why am I here? And most importantly: Who am I?
“Hello?” a voice interrupted his thoughts. “Who are you?”
Approaching him up the hill was an older child, not quite an adult. The boy had black hair and wore similar rags over his hips and torso. Gripped in his hand was a rusty axe.
“Are you a new arrival? Didn’t know we were expecting any. I suppose it’s been a while.” He extended his hand. “Varyan. Pleased to meet you.”
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He instinctively accepted Varyan’s hand, words eluding him.
“I- I-… I’m…” he faltered.
What do I even say here?
“Don’t worry,” Varyan reassured him calmly, “Most people are disoriented when they first arrive. And only a few of them are willing to talk in the first place.”
The boy smiled warmly, then gestured to the stump.
“Come on, let’s split some logs.”
He followed Varyan to the stump, noticing a few logs beside it. Varyan set one on the stump with one hand and swung his axe with the other. The log split effortlessly. So much power!
“Damn, I hit my thumb,” Varyan said.
He rushed to Varyan’s side, alarmed.
“It’s fine, I have the God of Life’s Protection up.”
He examined Varyan’s hand. There were no signs of injury. What? How?
“What do they call them? Life Points, right?” Varyan asked, holding his thumb up.
What the hell is he talking about?
“You know, the Adventurers…” Varyan added.
There was an awkward silence for a second.
“You’ve never met an Adventurer? How did you end up here?”
Varyan appeared puzzled, scanning him from head to toe, searching his eyes for something concealed. He scrutinised his hair. An unsettling sense crept upon him, a feeling that he was supposed to know what Varyan was talking about.
“What’s wrong?” he finally asked Varyan.
“Oh, so you do know Commonspeak.”
Varyan’s response carried a trace of surprise. He examined his eyes again before turning back to the logs, resuming the splitting.
“Nothing to worry about right now. Let’s just get these downhill. The others already started preparing breakfast. Give me a hand, will you?”
He noticed Varyan’s thin frame, almost unhealthily so. The outline of his ribcage was discernible beneath his skin. Yet Varyan had split those logs with ease. His demeanour seemed to shift as they silently stacked the logs onto the rags he had worn on his torso. Varyan appeared more sceptical, more cautious. What’s with that look? Why would he suspect me of anything? I don’t have the remotest idea of what’s going on.
Together, they grasped the rags’ ends, lifting the log pile. He exerted a bit of effort, while Varyan seemed unfazed by the weight. Carefully, he avoided slipping on the wet grass as they descended towards the shanty town, their unspoken questions lingering in the air. The sun emerged, gradually warming his muddied feet. For the time being, he decided to stick to Varyan, avoiding drawing attention. If nothing else, he’d get some breakfast out of it and probably get to know “the others” that Varyan mentioned. Maybe I’ll find someone who knows what’s going on.