Yareeth carefully extracted the herbs, her scaled fingers brushing gently against their leaves, the air around them filling with a strange, sweet aroma that reminded him of the forest realm, a blend of earth and something… medicinal, maybe, or perhaps a fragrance from her swamp, from her home, a phantom echo of what he had inadvertently taken from her.
Her eyes, meeting his, were wide with a combination of sorrow, curiosity, and hope, a reflection of the journey they'd both embarked on— a journey into a world of fragmented realities, of brutal choices, and the enduring, if sometimes destructive, power of the void. He could feel it now, the pull. The shard within him resonated. They were still vulnerable.
"These are… Uncommon, I think.” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, her gaze fixed on the cluster of herbs in her hand. They glowed faintly in the dim light, the edges of their leaves shimmering with an iridescent sheen, as if imbued with a subtle magic.
Unknown Herb (Uncommon) Harvested
Herbal Identification +1
The system confirmation materialized, the blue light a stark contrast to the herbs’ gentle luminescence. Yareeth, her eyes widening, a smile tugging at her lips, tucked the precious herbs into her belt pouch.
Kael watched, his own heart lifting as he saw her smile. A real smile. It wasn’t the predatory grin she’d displayed in the market. It was something softer, warmer, as if the simple act of gathering, of recognizing the potential of these plants, had awakened something within her, a connection to her lost world, to the knowledge she had carried within her all along.
“Good job," he said, offering a smile of his own. A warmth spread through him as her gaze met his, the warmth of a shared triumph, a bond forged in this strange, shattered reality.
It was more than just survival. It was… It was the first step towards something else.
She moved towards the body of the Razorfang Brute, a monstrous form now inert, a monument to their victory. Her eyes, though filled with a hint of sorrow, gleamed with an analytical curiosity, a spark he recognized as her own brand of strength. “And this one? We cannot… take its… pelt?” She hefted her knife in her hand, the motion both tentative and determined, her scaled brow furrowed as she surveyed the massive creature. “I should have… I need a better tool.” Her frustration was palpable, a reminder of his own shortcomings, the way he’d been so focused on his own progress, his own power.
“We'll get you a better knife,” he promised. He could do that much, at least. Could ensure she had the tools she needed, could offer a sense of control in a world that had ripped away everything familiar.
Yareeth nodded and then, after a final, lingering glance at the creature’s bulk, she bent and carefully retrieved the dropped corpse of the tiny Meadow Nibbler. Despite her slender frame, she carried the weight of it with ease. Hefting the tiny corpse and her dagger, she cast a glance at the Razorfang Brute's hulking form and sighed. It would have been good to take back. It would have provided sustenance. It would have offered resources. He understood her disappointment. Waste, in her world, was a sin. But even he knew they’d never be able to drag that beast back through the portal. “Let’s get back,” he said gently. “There’ll be other creatures.”
She nodded and together, they turned and started back towards the portal, their steps a little lighter now, a sense of purpose driving them forward. They weren’t conquerors, not exactly, but they were… learning, adapting to the System's rules, its relentless demands, its strange, intoxicating promises.
The path back wasn’t easy.
As they crossed the rolling grasslands, the wind whipping their hair and clothing, a rustling sound, a low growl, emerged from the tall grasses. He recognized the creatures from before—the shadows he’d glimpsed. It felt different this time. His unease wasn’t just caution. A protectiveness, a visceral fear for the girl who now walked beside him.
2x Grassland Prowler Level 2
The system’s window, a calm, neutral counterpoint to his own rising heart beat.
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Two of them, a mottled brown blur as they darted from the long grass, their jaws snapping, claws outstretched, low to the ground. Their strategy was clear— hamstring their prey before they even had a chance to fight back.
“Stay back, Yareeth,” he said, forcing himself to remain calm. “Let me handle this.”
The first Prowler lunged at him. It was fast. But he was faster.
He sidestepped, letting its momentum carry it past him. He felt a rush of excitement as his body moved effortlessly, the Shard's power coursing through him, amplifying his reflexes. The club came down hard, connecting with a satisfying crunch as the creature’s spine shattered. He could hear the creature's dying gasps and saw Yareeth’s wide-eyed surprise, her own hand going instinctively to the small dagger at her waist.
The second Prowler, snarling, hesitated for a moment as if assessing the situation. It was a small creature, but he’d learned not to underestimate anything in the realms. He saw the flicker in its eyes, the hesitation that revealed its intent to flank him while he dealt with the other. This, he thought, this moment of awareness, of tactical planning, this was the difference, what set him apart. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes.
He twisted, the club-hammer arcing through the air, and the second Prowler, caught off guard, let out a strangled shriek as the force of the blow shattered its skull.
2x Grassland Prowlers killed
Kael, panting, his heart pounding with the adrenaline, surveyed the scene.
“See? Not so bad. That’s what we call… tactical planning.” He smiled, wanting to share this small victory with her. He glanced at the notification that flickered on the edge of his vision.
But even as the numbers registered, a strange, unsettling truth settled within him, like a stone dropped into the pool of his exhilaration. He was getting stronger. Leveling up. But the rewards for dispatching these weaker creatures were less. He didn't understand.
“But less experience,” he said aloud, mostly to himself, the confusion apparent.
“It must be because I’m… I’ve gained a level.” The truth in his voice echoed Yareeth's recent observations.
“You should… maybe take on the Level One creatures from now on, Yareeth? Those smaller ones? If you… well, if you’re comfortable with that?” His words, the way he stumbled over them. His offer was a testament to the transformation unfolding within him. He’d never considered sharing those battles, those opportunities for power, with anyone.
She looked at him then, her gaze sharp. The thought of her getting hurt, the responsibility… He had to get stronger, so this wouldn’t happen again. “I’ll be there to… make sure… I’ll… you know, help.” It felt awkward, the phrasing, a reminder of how new this all was to him. Compassion. Responsibility. These weren't emotions he was familiar with.
Yareeth wasn’t convinced. It was evident in the way she eyed the Grassland Prowler corpses. “I don’t… need to. Not now. We already have these… these will provide more than enough for our needs.” She had a point. But that wasn’t the reason.
“But it’s more than just… the resources,” he insisted. There was a fierceness in his voice, an echo of her own determination. He was realizing, even as the thought formed, that her survival depended on more than his willingness to fight, to protect.
It depended on her strength as well.
He picked up one of the corpses, hefting it in his hand, then offered it to her. “Here, let me carry one for you. I’m stronger.” He saw the resistance in her posture, her scales rippling, a flash of defiance in those dark eyes. It was a familiar look. It was… endearing.
“I can carry these, Kael. They are light.”
“Light?!” He thought. She was incredible.
“Just… let me help,” he insisted. “We are in this together.” He felt her gaze lingering on him, the assessment. He hated that his weakness would show.
"You you want to be helpful. We need to be smart about this rare opportunity,” she continued, her words conveyed with a light smile. “We need supplies, things to… I’ve seen them, in the marketplace, those… backpacks? Those containers humans use to carry their belongings. I don’t understand their need for so many things. My people… our needs were simple. But I am learning, adapting.” Her gaze was intense, her voice carrying a new kind of authority that made his own chest swell with pride.
He chuckled. “You sound like Taris. Practical, thoughtful. Always planning three steps ahead.” The name, once a source of anger and betrayal, emerged without the usual sting. He was letting go, moving on. His eyes flicked to her scales, the faint, dull glimmer against the grasslands. There was so much he wanted to explain, about their world, about the endless cycle of struggle and survival that had shaped his life. But he knew that time would come. They had a different kind of journey ahead now, a path he was beginning to believe they might actually carve together. “Let’s head back,” He smiled. “I’m starving.”
"You’re always hungry, Kael.” Her tone was playful, and he laughed, the sound echoing through the meadow. A wave of dizziness hit him, but he brushed it off, a reminder of his recent poisoning poison and his body’s resilience."