Faye shivered. The air was decidedly cooler than it had been before, but she supposed running away from mad tree-dwelling cats would warm a person up.
She started a light jog to warm up and distract her mind from avenues she really didn’t want to travel down. Such as what she would do when it got dark.
Nope, not thinking about that, she thought.
At that exact moment, her stomach decided that it would voice its own protest at their situation.
“Great, something else to worry about,” she muttered.
Fifteen minutes later, much longer than she’d originally thought it might take, Faye reached the banks of the small river that she’d spied from the hills. It wended its way through the valley in a languorous ribbon, every bend and bow causing bigger and more varied plant life to grow than in the rest of the valley. Picking a portion of the riverbank that was a little freer of flora than the rest, Faye took a moment to bend down and place her hands in the water; she laid her sword down by her side.
The icy fresh water of the river washed away some of the grime and dirt she’d gotten embedded in her skin. Rubbing her fingers and hands, she realised that there were some scratches there. One of the leaping treecats must have gotten her, but the adrenaline had let her ignore it.
Taking up her trouser leg, which was fortunately simple with the baggy bottoms she had on, Faye took stock of her right leg; the one attacked by that one treecat. It was lined by multiple scratches, which surprisingly weren’t deep, but they were painful. The treecats’ claws must have been razor sharp, because the cuts were more akin to paper cuts than knife cuts, and the wounds were already mostly closed, but the remnants of minor rivulets of blood were staining her leg.
Carefully washing her leg to remove any dirt and the dried blood, Faye took the time to rest and think through her options. She didn’t know where she was, there was something weird happening, and she needed to get to shelter before evening. Looking up, the sun was still high in the sky.
“Deliberately ignoring the fact that it was seven PM… deliberately ignoring the fact that time reversed. Yup. Ignoring it.”
She made sure to use a handful of the grasses to wipe down the sword blade. The edge and tip were completely blunt, for safety reasons — which made Faye laugh — so there was no way she’d be using it properly anytime soon; but she still wanted to practise good habits.
As she made to stand, she winced through the pain of the cuts. It was a stinging pain, one that would scream out every time she moved the skin on her calf. Gritting her teeth and gripping the sword’s sheath hard, she moved away from the river a little and started following it ‘down’ the valley.
“Arbitrary direction chosen, water source close to hand, no serious wounds. Not the best, not the worst.”
And so Faye strode onwards, definitely not thinking about the strange occurrences that had happened to her that day.
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The sun was beginning to set. Its golden rays were soon turned orange. The shadows of the hills on either side of the valley were casting long palls across most of the grassland. Faye was still striding purposefully down the centre of the valley floor, the river to her right.
Certain she wasn’t doing a good job distracting herself, Faye was whistling, a jaunty but off-time tune that meandered as much as the river did. She wasn’t paying all that much attention to her musical ability though. The animals in the bushes around her were taking up all her focus.
She’d caught a brief glimpse of one only minutes before. They were small, white-furred and quick. She wasn’t sure what they were, but the infamous white rabbit came to mind. She just hoped its teeth were—
—a blurry, off-white shape launched itself towards her from her right. It was silent but for the violent rustling of grass as it sped forward.
Releasing her blade from its sheath, Faye dropped to a knee and slashed across the floor in a smooth movement.
The blunted edge of her sword collided with the white shape, which squealed and ran off at a sharp angle, further back along the riverbank.
She scowled and stood up, gathering the sheath, and carried on moving. Her eyes roved across the grass as much as possible. She hadn’t hurt the thing, it had just been surprised. She’d felt the blow glance off something, maybe even its skull.
No rabbit would have attacked in the first place, so she knew that it was silly to keep thinking of a pet bunny charging her. But it really had looked like one.
“What next, a mouse with shorts?” She shook her head, then struck up a light jog.
There was a large cluster of boulders ahead that might provide some decent shelter for the night.
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Was this her life, now? On constant guard and with small animals charging at her from bushes?
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Her plan to shelter between the boulders for the night had worked, for a short time. The sound of snuffling and something pawing at the ground woke Faye. It was pitch black in the space between the huge rocks. Ahead, the grassland was alight with the moon in a mostly cloudless sky.
In that narrow opening of monotone twilight, Faye could see the shadow of some kind of four-legged creature approaching her sleeping spot.
Suddenly wide awake, Faye opened her eyes as wide as possible. She glanced at the other entrance to her sleeping spot, at a shallow angle opposite of where the animal was snuffling around. It was still open, the grassland beyond waving gently in the night’s breeze.
She took a deep breath.
Thankful that she had somewhere to escape to, Faye drew her sword and held it in a close right guard, protecting her chest and belly, the point angled upwards, somewhere at her eye line. Of course, in the darkness of the boulders’ shadows, she couldn’t see the blade but she could picture it in her mind.
The beast, whatever it was, paused in its snuffling and let out a low growl. The sound of it sent shivers up her spine, and the hair on her neck and arms stood on end.
Before it could move, Faye looked above her, then back to the other entrance, and back. It had still not moved, but the growl was increasing in volume.
Shaking her head, Faye turned and sprinted out of the boulders’ embrace. As soon as she left the shadow, a heavy form dropped to the ground behind her. She heard the thump of four paws as they hit the grassy ground.
Her heart pounded loudly in her ears.
She pivoted on her leading foot.
The tip of her blade came around as she moved backwards into a long stance.
She snapped the sword forward into a stop thrust. Blade held as straight as she could; putting it in total alignment with her hand, wrist, elbow, and shoulders.
The predator that had been prowling after her howled as the blunt tip somehow pierced its hide. It was almost impossible to see, even by the light of the moon. The dark shadow of its body seemed to drink in the light. Its eyes shone with reflected moonlight; a piercing, horrifying green. The eyes blinked, once, then were gone.
Certain that her predators had left, Faye once more turned and moved on, ears open for other sounds, mind attuned to danger. Hands trembling as they gripped the hilt of her sword.
It had been another couple of days, and nothing had really changed except the landscape. The landscape and Faye’s nerves, which were completely frayed. Every shake of a nearby bush, tree, or even grass would have her sword out and swinging for whatever invariably aggressive animal was rushing toward her.
Sometimes, there weren’t creatures. But her sword would jump from her scabbard so often that she’d taken to carrying it bare on her shoulder. The scabbard she just tucked into the waistband of her trousers.
Gone were the grassy valley and meandering river. Instead, Faye had found herself clambering over hill and dale; rocky, wet, and muddy in equal measure. More than once, she had accidentally disturbed the quiet grazing of some tough grass-eating herbivores. One she had even managed to scare into falling off a somewhat convenient rock face. Its body would have provided many meals if she’d been capable of starting a fire.
As it was, she had been eating various berries and plants that she’d seen animals eating. She wasn’t deluding herself; she was starving hungry still.
But at least it was something.
By now, the hunger had settled deep in her belly and wasn’t leaving. She’d been tempted by the raw meat but hadn’t been able to bring herself to try butchering the poor animal herself.
Despite the lack of real sustenance, Faye couldn’t help the feeling of eagerness she had to be here, exploring.
She wasn’t at home anymore. That was obvious. The leaping treecats had been the first major clue, but then the stalking black cats, whatever their names had been, were definitely not native to her home at all. She didn’t think the British Isles had a single wild predator left on them. Unless you counted angry bulls and curious cows.
Either way, standing at the top of a short escarpment, Faye looked out across this strangely familiar yet unique and foreign place. The excitement that ran through her veins kept her grinning. Of course, excitement, or adrenaline, wore away at her psyche even more than the constant threats. Each time she pushed herself up a short climb too quickly she grew short of breath. It scared her enough that she explored carefully, slowly.
The day before she had stopped to watch as a family of goats had approached a short, spiny bush and stripped it of the berries and leaves. When she’d been sure they were eating the foliage, she’d run out, shouting and waving her arms to scare them away. They had left easily, and when she’d picked a few of the berries and leaves and crammed them into her mouth, chewing without tasting, the sound of her phone’s notifications emanated from nowhere and everywhere.
Congratulations! You have acquired the general skill [Survival — Basic].
For acquiring a general skill before achieving level 2, you have been awarded a bonus to experience.
“Survival, basic,” she muttered. “I guess that means that there’s more to that. What’s this about levels?”
No stranger to video and tabletop games, Faye had a good idea what it meant… it just didn’t make sense. Levels weren’t real.
Except, apparently, she was learning skills and gaining experience when she killed things.
“Stats?” Nothing. “Character.” Nada.
She took more of the berries. Chewing on their slightly bitter innards, she thought about what else she’d learnt about games. She’d been here too long for it to be a dream, really, so if a game had come to life… regardless, it definitely wasn’t a dream. The cuts on her leg ripped open after every ambitious leap or movement. The stinging pain was a sharp reminder she was awake.
“But if I was in a coma, I’m not sure I’d know? Well, whatever.”
Ignoring that whole question, Faye had carried on. Pondering on such unknowable questions was the definition of madness, in her eyes.
On what was yet another empty day of her time in this wilderness, Faye had come to an even rockier, hillier part of the world. There were gullies and canyon-like routes through the rocks, which were a deep grey and speckled black, green, and blue. She stopped to look out over the landscape.
Ahead of her, far enough away that she couldn’t decide how far, but close enough that they seemed reachable, was a range of mountains. Their peaks didn’t seem to rise too high, but there was no real way of knowing at this scale how big they were. In fact, one branch of the mountains doglegged out towards where Faye was standing. She could see that they were closer than the rest.
Imagining herself at the top of that mountain range and looking around, a wild sense of freedom, desire, and excitement sent frisson through her.
She had a goal; it was at the top of that mountain.