Chapter 2

The coals of the fire crackled merrily and the occasional hiss of fat dripping onto them sent clouds of delicious smell wafting into the air. Victor sat with his back to the cliff face, the cave entrance a few feet to his right. Around him was a crude barricade of branches and fallen pines piled to ward off any easy approach to his small camp, his run in with the wolf having made him very cautious of the local wildlife. Within the small encirclement he had lit a fire and was now attempting to cook a crudely butchered piece of the wolf over the embers of the flame.

Cooking was perhaps a generous term to use to describe the atrocity against cuisine that he was committing. But with a slightly flat rock being the most advanced cooking tool he had available, cutting mostly even strips of flesh on a hot stone was about as sophisticated as it would get.

Meat alone was hardly a satisfying meal. Gamey meat even less so. And burnt meat without any seasoning even LESS less so; but as he had eaten nothing else since he arrived here, he shouldn’t really complain. Much.

The first bite was probably the worst, but hunger drove him on, and he learned to chew through the rough taste and texture. In between the bites of meat, Victor watched the treeline, eyes scanning for any movement in the shadows. Wolves were pack animals. He wasn’t sure where the others were, but with how aggressive that one had been, there was no telling what the rest of them would do.

But that was just one of the many concerns he had. Despite all the distractions that Victor had been dealing with, there was an ever mounting list of things that he couldn’t continue to ignore; the confusion of his arrival through what could only have been a portal of some kind was hard enough to explain, but could be ascribed to a dream or drug fueled hallucination. The plants around him all seemed reasonable enough but none of them were species that he was familiar with. It had been a long time since he had done any wilderness survival training, but Victor still would have expected to recognize something. No, rather than that, the problem was that he WAS recognizing them, but then noticing details that were off. One too many tips on a maple leaf or the wrong shade of green to an oaks. Each on its own was a failure of memory but all together was forming an ever growing dread.

Then there was the strange skeleton and the frighteningly aggressive wolf, each explainable on its own but added to the growing list they became a constant gnawing concern. And of course the elephant in the room was the strange voice that had appeared in his mind when he killed the wolf. Something about Achievement Points and awakening? He hadn’t really been paying attention at the time and nothing he had done since had triggered a reaction.

This can’t be what I think it is, but none of the other possibilities make sense and an extended drug trip just doesn't really fit. All this… it’s too real, too present.

The setting sun provided urgency to his mood, if he was in some fantasy world then anything could be out there. The cave would be his best defence, with a number of branches piled in the entrance forming a tangle of twigs and leaves, there would be no chance of something coming in quietly. As he fumbled his way back into the now dark cavern he remembered two things about the space: the first was that he would be spending the night with that strange, black, and probably inhuman skeleton; the second was that it had a very uneven stone floor.

An entirely unpleasant night’s sleep later, Victor was once again outside the cave. Using pieces of his barricade he reignited the buried embers of last night’s fire. The wolf’s meat was mostly gone and would be rotted soon anyway, so he took the best of what was left and made a meal of it. Despite the poor fair and lack of a good night's sleep he felt rather good; great in fact, like he had slept on a comfortable bed rather than in a dark cold cave.

With renewed vigor, Victor quickly established his objectives for the day. The missions today were finding water, food, and people. Water was already located; a small stream splashed down the cliff about a hundred feet to the left of the cave. He just needed to gather and store it. Food was more variable, hopefully there would be something he could eat that was safer (and less gamey) to get than wolf meat. People were more difficult but simple in the end. With the stream right next to him, Victor just had to follow it until it became a river and he would find people. People always settle near rivers so heading downstream would work eventually, just so long as he could stay alive long enough.

To that end, he realized he needed to be able to defend himself. Looking down at his sword, he winced at the dried blood that was smeared on the blade. This was the only weapon he had, and by far the best one he would get his hands on.

Victor wiped a handful of leaves across the blade, hoping he wouldn’t simply spread more blood and grime across the steel. He was certain it wasn’t the best way to clean his sword, but he didn’t have a better tool to work with. And he especially didn’t want to use his own clothes. True, his current clothing wasn’t anything special. And they weren’t exactly clean either… splattered bits of blood and guts and dirt everywhere- he made a mental note to wash them later when he got a chance. He was pretty filthy, Victor mused as he grasped a handful of sand and wiped down the blade.

His hand tightened around the leather grip of the sword. Looking straight down the blade, he had to admit, it was surprisingly clean. His halfhearted attempts to wipe it had actually removed nearly all the blood and gore. The filth had slid off the blade like it was coated with some sort of nonstick surface. And the edge! Victor was reminded of how easily it cut the meat earlier. Still so very sharp, despite all the years it probably laid in the cave. Odd.

Were all swords like that? Probably not, but as a novice he wasn’t certain. He had never held a blade before, and it wasn’t even an hour ago that he had to wield this one to kill a wolf! But looking at his sword right now, he recalled how surprised he was that he managed to survive that encounter. Back then, when Victor saw the beast slowly creep up, he somehow KNEW what he had to do. He wasn’t certain how, but his gut seemed to tell him that he had to wait for just the right moment. And when the wolf lunged at him, he knew that was the moment.

No… it was more accurate to say he had KNOWN which moment to wait for. How was that possible?

He lifted up the blade, holding it straight in front of him with both hands. Why did that stance feel so right before? Once more, he raised the sword right above his head, knees bent and arms steady this time. As Victor closed his eyes, he breathed in, laying still for naught but a moment before stepping forward and slicing downward.

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He breathed out and opened his eyes. At his feet he saw the branch he just chopped down; a clean cut that he barely even registered.

...

Vertical slice. Step back, then slice downward again-

No. That felt wrong.

Large step forward with a vertical slice. Then, leaping back, swipe horizontally-

Still not enough. Better this time, but somehow the movements felt… incomplete?

Breath in, Lunge forward with a vertical slice. Then, leap back with a swipe to the right, finally, stepping forward into a thrust.

Victor was startled when his arms felt exhausted. He dropped to his knees and let out a groan his whole body felt like he had been working out for hours. He didn’t know practicing with a sword was this tiring. No, in fact, he knew that it wasn’t. He had barely been swinging the sword around for a few minutes and yet he could feel every muscle in his body aching.

Swords were heavy, Victor realized as he sat by the fire once more. Maybe practicing with a piece of metal was too tough for him now. He forced himself up and picked up the branch he had chopped down. A bit crooked, but it should be good enough to practice with instead.

Grasping it gently in his hand, he noted how light and thin it was. Concentrating, he breathed deep and closed his eyes.

Vertical slice-

Victor slapped the branch against his knee.

Okay, one more time. Step forward and slice downward-

His footing tripped up and he nearly stumbled.

Alright, maybe skip a step. Jump backwards and-

Victor fell back and stumbled, falling on his ass. Hard.

...what is happening right now.

Groaning, he lifted his head up. His vision was blurry. As he started to see more clearly, his eyes settled on the sword, still laying on the ground by the fire. He glanced at the branch, then back at the sword. The branch again, then the sword. Victor’s eyes widened.

“...no way”

Picking the sword back up, he immediately managed to settle into what seemed like a central stance.

Well now where did that thought come from?

Taking a deep breath again, he began going through a few slow swipes trying to identify that feeling, that sense of certainty, that he always felt when he held the sword. Somehow, something was occuring. He wasn’t sure, but with each guided swing, Victor felt himself rotating into another strike, each swipe swinging into the next motion. It was… it was like he was walking down a halfpipe, he could deviate a bit but would fall back into the center unless he specifically tried to escape. But, you know, with… a sword? It didn’t make a lot of sense but that’s what it felt like.

A painful twinge in his wrist made him drop the sword in a clatter. Clutching his wrist, he felt a cramping muscle spasming violently. Victor dropped to his knees, his body aching.

Definitely, DEFINITELY something weird about that sword, it’s not THAT heavy. I should be fine to swing it around for a while, but a few minutes and I am exhausted? And everything is sore! Like I was doing some sort of full body workout? I guess I was moving around a bunch but still... that's crazy.

Using the sword as support, Victor rose to his feet, his head aching. He had only taken a few steps forward before stumbling sideways against a tree. He groaned everything hurt, a weak noise came out of his throat and he realized he was parched. Water, I need water. The thought pounded in his head, dragging itself to the center of his attention and keeping it there with the dry burning of his throat. With the muscles in his body aching, Victor slowly dragged himself forward, stumbling from one tree to the next using the sword as a cane when no tree was available. He vividly remembered the bright stream close to the cave and weakly made his way towards it.

It was only a hundred feet from where he was training, but the journey to the stream felt agonizing. Stumbling from tree to tree, using his sword to support his trembling legs, Victor finally reached the source of water. He collapsed to his knees, his hands meeting the grass next to the flowing water. Laying flat on his stomach, Victor dipped his hand into the stream. Cold, icy cold. The thoughts barely registered into his mind as he scooped some water into his mouth, desperately slurping down the clear liquid. He did so, again and again, barely drinking the water but more so splashing his face with it. Eventually he lowered his head into the stream, feeling the flow of icy water across his face as he drank deeply.

Victor lifted his head up and gasped for air. He rolled over and stared up at the sky. It was clear and blue today, a familiar and reassuring sight that contrasted with all the madness he had felt the last few days. He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, resting, but it was the numbness of his hand that brought him back to reality. He lifted it from the stream and clutched his cold and numb fingers. Freezing great.

Victor walked along the stream slowly, feeling better now that he was rehydrated and had rested for a bit. His concern now was looking for food. Water would work for awhile, but he didn’t want to risk another wolf encounter while dealing with starvation as well. The wolf meat was already rotten at this point, he had dragged the carcass off into the woods when he woke up. He scanned the plants around him, hoping that there was something he could recognize as edible.

He had only walked a couple dozen feet forward before his eyes focused on one of the plants. They rose up from the ground, long stems with branches of leaflets that had rounded tips. As he knelt down, he thought back to his vaguely remembered wilderness survival training. Victor thought he could recognize the plant, but wasn’t sure.

Peanuts. His hand quickly dug at the dirt where the stem came from. As he clawed out more and more dirt, he felt his heart rise and quicken upon the site of a familiar brown shell. Tugging at the stem, he pulled out a jumble of roots with the familiar shells at the bottom. Ripping one off and cracking it open, he munched down the nuts inside.

food get!

Back at the cave Victor made the best of his small handful of nuts, after removing their shells. He had heard that peanuts were bland and fairly tasteless when not roasted, but even raw these were quite good. Perhaps it was just that he was desperate for something a bit more palatable than overcooked unseasoned wolf meat. Nonetheless the nuts were delicious. He could practically feel the calories settling into him as he tossed the shells back one at a time.

The distant glow of orange light amongst the treeline signalled that the sun was still setting. Victor elected to just head into the cave and try to sleep now, lest he feel hunger later on at night. He still felt like he had been run over by a truck after swinging the sword around for a few minutes, he already felt like he could collapse at any moment. Victor crawled awkwardly into the cave and pulled some branches into the entrance behind him. He made his way into the now nearly pitch black cave that had been serving as his shelter, his grip tightening around the blade as darkness enveloped him. Positioning himself equal distance from the entrance and the skeleton he did his best to find a comfortable position to sleep in. He closed his heavy eyelids as worried thoughts drifted into his mind.

I can’t stay here and keep hoping that a disaster won’t descend on me. I NEED to find people and figure out where I am!

Drifting off with the sword gripped in his hand he dreamed of fantastical fights and epic swordplay late into the night.