I awake with a start, as I feel myself falling forward. Grabbing onto the closest thing, I scrape my hand against the rough bark of the tree and plunge it into a pool of sap.
“Great…” I mumble to myself. Waking up some more, and untangling my limbs from the tree’s, I suddenly feel a shooting pain rocket up my left leg from my ankle.
Wedging myself against the tree trunk, I bend my knee so I can see my foot. Rolling up the pant leg, I see that the shin has some minor scrapes but the most noticeable thing is that my ankle is swollen and a wonderful shade of purple.
I look up, the dim sun has shifted in the sky a bit and I see the damage I did to the tree during my fall.
Looking back over what I did, I question. Why did I run? Why is it that I seek to be alone whenever something goes wrong? Why did I vent my anger on the generator? Why am I trying? What am I trying to do? I cannot go back the way I came with the people I am working with right now, if anything, this is actively hindering my ability to get home.
I shift slightly in the tree, trying to get a bit more comfortable as a fog bank rolls in like a silent tide, swallowing the forest and the cliff below. The world feels smaller, muted, as if it’s drawing its breath in with me. Even the tree I’m clinging to seems adrift, its swaying branches vanishing into the gray void. I wonder if anyone is even close enough to hear me out here.
Curling up, I think of what I have done. I have completed engineering, and several other accomplishments, but I am here now where they don't even know the meaning behind the words of them. I tap my engineering ring with my thumb, thinking of the ethical obligation that it means.
I scared the others, I scared the only ones that could help me, made them doubt my intentions. The trust of those around me eroding faster than I can build it, like a sandcastle in the waves. Sobbing quietly. I talk to myself, nay, to whomever, or whatever is listening. “I’ve failed.” the words catching in my throat. “I lost my temper, and I hid out of shame. How do I make it right?”
The forest, alive yet indifferent, groans gently in the breeze carrying the fog. I shiver slightly, as the dampness settles into my bones. I wonder as my mind wanders, am I as small and insignificant as the leaves on the trees relative to the tree itself?
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Why am I trying? What am I trying to do? Boost the quality of living in a backwater village in a place that is not even my own planet?! I have always given knowledge freely, but I have seen it backfire before, as it can be used as a power to lord over others or create division.
Am I trying to buy their trust and support with the gift of knowledge? A version of Prometheus that once the gift is given will be punished and cursed for the knowledge he brought?
How else am I to be useful to them? It's winter, the historical time of rest and survival, not of progress and building. Why can I not stop? Who am I to try and impose what I know on them? Rather than teaching, I could have picked up the basics of their language by now!
Wrestling with my thoughts, I reflect back onto my help in ages past, and hope for years to come. “God…” my voice is shaky, and uncertain. “I am here for some reason, I need to know what it is. I… I am lost. Should I help? Or I am a gnat with delusions of grandeur? Help me understand…please? Am I doing what I am meant to, or am I the problem, a stumbling block for others? Have I strayed so far from Your path, Your Way that I cannot recognize it anymore?”
My words seem hollow, swallowed by the dense fog. But they offer a bit of warmth within me. A shiver runs up my spine.
All I know is that I was isekaied , whether or not it was exactly purposeful is unknown due to the number of other creatures that were in storage. I am now here with no clear path, and not knowing who I really am to those around me. I don't have a clean slate but it is as close as I will get to one.
No one here knows the real me, not even myself, as what I accomplished before coming here does not show meaning, except for how it impacts me. I need to make myself have meaning. I am an explorer, collector and sharer of knowledge from my home. I am also a little Creator, made in the image of God to explore and build upon creation.
I have a duty to God, to others and to myself. But if I am worn out or injured I cannot fulfill my duty. Rather than being cast aside though I am forgiven, and reused.
Between my ankle and my mind, I know I am broken, but that being alone will not heal this, it will make it worse.
Somewhere in the distance, I hear a branch crack, not from my fall, but from something else. Out here, alone, the sounds of life continuing on seem foreign and foreboding, offering both hope and fear. Hope of salvation, but fear of an even worse outcome. I cling to the tree, paralyzed by the thought of being found-or not being found
Shifting in the tree, I stand on my right foot, grab two of the undamaged branches and do something that I have not done in years. I breathe in, hesitate, the fear of doing more harm clutching at me. But then, I let it out:
“HELP!”