Maso awoke to a warm feeling on his face. He blinked, then rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on what he was seeing.

The forest. He was still in the forest, lying in an area with less tree covering, a small clearing bisected by a thin creek. The planet's star shone down on his face, like a high-intensity lamp but softer somehow, broader and less pure.

Even now, after four days, something in Maso's mind panicked at being outside. His training screamed at him to put on protective equipment, to take cover and call for an extraction. The worst part was that it may well have been right: this world's air could still be toxic, and the starlight was almost certainly irradiating him. He hadn't seen anyone who appeared to be even remotely elderly yet, so it was possible that even the contented villagers were just... accustomed to the idea of being poisoned to death before they'd met their grandchildren.

Not that Maso could do anything about that right now. Without tools to analyze the contents of the atmosphere, it was completely hopeless to attempt to filter it. A high-level oxygen concentration system like he'd had in his suit would have worked, but he couldn't make anything remotely similar by hand, so he'd be limited to the most naive of solutions.

When - if - he made it back, he'd need to get a thorough medical inspection done. But right now, he felt great. Surprisingly good, even, considering the last thing he remembered was nearly dying to a gigantic spider.

Maso gingerly felt at his chest. He'd been sure that at least one rib had broken, but everything felt fine. Even stronger prodding didn't elicit the slightest twinge of pain.

"Feeling better, I see?"

Maso's head shot up. There, to his left, was Rèmsciore. The first time he'd stumbled into the man, it had seemed like a coincidence. Even once more was suspicious, considering the forest's size. Finding someone here should have been like searching the clouds for a crack- Maso blinked. That was a saying that didn't really translate.

At least, now that the lighting was better, Maso could actually get an idea of what the man looked like. As he'd assumed, Rèmsciore was also an Aspen, evidenced by his overlong ears and unnatural height. Something was off about his appearance, though, and it took Maso a moment to figure out what. His arms and legs were both long and heavily muscled, but his torso was short enough to look compressed, subtly disproportionate.

Admittedly, Maso had already seen more genetic diversity in the village than he'd seen over his life on the Origin. He hadn't seen anyone that looked quite like Rèmsciore, but who was he to judge? He'd barely met half a dozen villagers, and had spent most of his time in the forest.

Speaking of the forest, Rèmsciore didn't look like he'd been living in it for a considerable length of time, let alone two years. With smooth skin, straight hair, and clean clothes, he appeared more like a passing traveler than a hermit. Maso had been more disheveled within half an hour of entering the forest, when he'd first come to search for herbs.

Possibly the man's most noticeable feature, however, wasn't anything about his actual appearance. No, that was the sword, with a blade longer than Maso's arm, swaying gently from where it was hooked onto a brownish belt. It was hard to gauge visually, but the edge looked razor sharp, and Maso had to force himself to stop staring.

"I went ahead and restored your health," Rèmsciore continued, when Maso said nothing. "You're welcome, by the way."

That explained how Maso felt, but raised more questions. "How?"

Rèmsciore grinned, a sharp smile that didn't seem quite human. "Through magic, of course."

Maso blinked. The summoning of lightning with a phrase or the psychic communication of the crann made some sense; in the context of the science he was familiar with from the Origin, none of it could be directly explained, but he could believe that it was possible. Healing someone, though - with no apparent evidence that it had happened - took things a step further.

First of all, the precision required for a tool to remotely manipulate bones or tissue would have been absurd. Secondly, it wasn't like cells could be just spontaneously encouraged to multiply. Maybe with a drug or injection, but that kind of thing would be caught by his neural augment. Maso mentally skipped through its logs to check, but there was no sign of anything suspicious. And above all else, it was simply ridiculous: he hadn't just had broken ribs, but had likely been much more injured across his body.

Now that he was in a position to evaluate the fight from a more objective level, he knew that he'd taken a severe beating while trying (and failing) to take on the giant spider, and he was certain that at least some sign of that had to have persisted. But even with the most detailed neural scans, there was no indication that he'd been hurt at all, implying that Rèmsciore had somehow healed every single minor injury he'd taken.

Which was absurd.

This train of thought could be completely pointless, of course, if the Thadh was truly some kind of deity. But he'd been operating under a very loose assumption that it - or whatever core entity powered the magic that this world's inhabitants used - had to be explainable somehow.

"How long did that take?" Maso asked, finally.

"Oh, just a few moments, of course. You've been out for - ah, ten, twenty minutes? I wasn't sure how long it would take, so I moved you to a slightly better location."

"I see." Maso briefly imagined a cracked rib knitting in 'just a few moments'. "Thank you for that."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"Ah, well." Rèmsciore scratched the side of his head. "The Thadh rewards you for that kind of thing, anyways. My reputation's been in the pits for a while now, so healing you gave me a bit of a boost. Not as big as stunning that spider for you, though."

"That was you?" Maso asked, as he got to his feet, leaning briefly against the tree behind him. He still didn't feel sore in any way; either Rèmsciore had indeed healed him, or he'd been out for a very long time.

"Indeed." Rèmsciore grinned. "I wouldn't recommend trying something like that again. Taking on one of those things without any kind of magic is just going to get you killed, which isn't a fun experience, trust me."

"Right," Maso said. It wasn't like he'd wanted to fight a massive spider. "I haven't been able to learn any magic yet, and it was a quest, so I didn't have much choice."

Rèmsciore's eyebrows rose in tandem. "A quest? That explains why you're so far out into this miserable forest, then." He peered closer at Maso. "I hadn't thought anyone around here did that kind of thing, though. Not at your age, and especially not without any kind of magical knowledge."

"I was told that gaining reputation would help me get information from the Thadh," Maso said, frowning.

Rèmsciore stared at Maso, as if he was trying to puzzle something out.

Then he leaned back and let out a deep-throated laugh. "Right. Yes. I suppose information is one word for that. Look, I'm not sure what's happened to you that you've been trying to get into this, but trust me, you're better off doing something productive with your time. Especially at your age."

"My age?" Maso echoed.

"Well, yeah." Rèmsciore cocked his head. "You're, what, thirty? Sixty? Going questing is quite the mid-life crisis, especially around here. I think most Aspen this far south of the Thadh just go fishing when they get depressed. Trust me, it's just as likely to get you a wife. And you won't earn any gold when you're dead."

"That's not it," Maso said, suddenly aware that he sounded defensive. Rèmsciore didn't look like he could be that much older than Lanoch, maybe in his mid or late twenties, and yet Maso felt like he was somehow being condescended to. The fact that Rèmsciore somehow thought he could be sixty didn't help.

Maso's lack of knowledge about this world was beginning to grate on him. As much as he'd hated the time spent in the void, he almost wished he could go back, if only to search for resources that would be more applicable to where he was.

"It's okay," Rèmsciore said. "It's not like I got into it for any good reason, myself." He laughed, once, short and harsh. "That's why I'm saying you can trust me. Leave this kind of thing to the kids with more anger than sense. There's nothing you can get-"

"My memories," Maso said, suddenly.

"Sorry?"

"I'm missing my memories. From before I..." Maso searched for the word Lanoch had used. "Respawned."

He was sure it wasn't the best story he could have gone with, but he'd already committed. Lanoch seemed to have bought it, at least, so it couldn't be that unrealistic, and it wasn't like he'd thought up any better alternatives. At the very least, it neatly explained his lack of knowledge about the planet, and also gave a motivation for him to get closer to the Thadh, whatever it really was.

Rèmsciore's eyebrows had risen a fraction further. "I see. I suppose whoever told you to increase your reputation wasn't completely off base, then. But, without learning magic first, you'll just be prey. Even the beasts in this forests can tear apart an untrained adventurer, and this is a relatively safe area. Why not stick to simpler quests? I suppose when you came by my camp the other day, you were doing a collection quest?"

Maso hadn't heard the term collection quest before, but it was easy enough to guess at. Before he could answer, Rèmsciore rambled on.

"You could just do more of those. In a few years, you'd be far enough to petition the Thadh directly. I can't imagine why it'd ignore someone with a solid reputation base." He frowned. "Still dangerous, but at least you'd get there without losing your mind. Er, as in your sanity, I suppose you've already lost most of your mind..."

"I can't do that," Maso said. "Thadh."

The crann flooded back into his view, and he skimmed over it, looking to confirm what he already knew.

For the first few days, he'd had ample opportunities to do basic, safe quests. Even walking down the street and sampling local cuisine had been enough to complete some of them. But, the initial deluge of quests had slowed somewhat after the first day, sharply after the second, and essentially disappeared after the third.

Lanoch had encouraged him to take a combat quest because of the better rewards, but the system had also forced his hand. Only a few quests marked easy or tier F (which, Maso supposed, was presumably the lowest rating) remained, but none of them promised any gain in reputation.

One quest - to 'become a shopkeeper' and 'vend his own unique wares' - even went so far as to say by completing this quest, you resign yourself to a life of mediocrity, never progressing past your abysmal state of continuous failure. The only reward listed was 'a sinking feeling that you've done something terribly wrong'. Needless to say, Maso hadn't really considered it. It was somewhat concerning that Maso had yet to find a way to remove quests, potentially implying that he'd be stuck with this one clogging up his menu indefinitely.

"I don't have any options," Maso said, as Rèmsciore stared at him expectantly, still somewhat visible through the flood of user interface boxes saturating his vision. "It's stopped giving me any non-combat quests."

Rèmsciore's eyes narrowed. "That's not how that should work."

"It's not?" How what should work? thought Maso.

"Well." The hermit stroked at his chin for a moment. "Maybe. Really, that all just raises more questions."

Rèmsciore glanced up at the sky, and Maso mirrored him. The orange-red light of the local star had started to fade, a subtle shift that the villagers seemed to associate with the end of the day. There was a certain ritual to it, how the streets would be bustling one minute and nearly empty half an hour later, people disappearing like ants into their homes.

"Perhaps we should start walking," Rèmsciore said. "It's getting late."

"We?"

"You've managed to pique my interest. I'd like to meet this person who's been introducing you to the system." He smiled. Maybe it was Maso's lack of familiarity with the culture here, but the expression didn't look remotely friendly. "I'll do you a favour in return, how about that? I'll teach you some of the magic I know as we walk."

Maso managed to prevent himself from glancing back towards the man's sword. Did he have much of a choice?

He told himself that there was no real difference in how much he could trust Rèmsciore or Lanoch. They were both foreigners, from a culture and planet completely different to his own. The strange similarities, the ease he'd had interacting with the villagers, the outwardly friendly mannerisms of everyone he'd talked to - they could be fake, or superficial, or even a genuine layer on top of... anything, really.

Maso knew enough about what the people of his planet could hide, the things that came out when they thought nobody was listening.

He'd keep being careful, but there was only so much he could do. Until he gained some amount of power - from the Thadh, or from recreating the most basic weapons he could remember - he'd have to rely on the dubious information he'd received, from Lanoch and now Rèmsciore.

"All right," Maso said. "Let's go."