This time, the transition was familiar. After tripping the light fantastic, I soon found myself back in a forest, but it was different than the one that I had just left. Instead of mostly coniferous trees, the climate was more temperate and less mountainous and the trees surrounding me were deciduous. When my consciousness resolved, the body I was in was already running, bouncing lightly along a game trail.
In front of me, I noticed that the body’s left hand was holding a bow, adroitly maneuvering it so it would not be caught or snagged by the passing vegetation. We were moving quickly down the trail, but even with the speed of our passage our footsteps made little sound. Based upon the size of the things around me and my inherent sense of scale, I could tell the body I was riding along in was around my height or maybe a little shorter.
From time to time, our eyes swept the ground, perhaps looking for tracks, although I didn’t notice any. Finally, the third or forth time it happened, I noticed a splash of crimson on some of the leaves that were scattered around the trail. As we pelted down the trail, I saw a couple of other similar patches on the ground. Obviously, we were following a blood trail.
We ran for quite awhile. The body I was in moved like a machine. Breathing in and out with the regularity of a metronome, we flew over the ground, leaping over roots and rocks as if they were nothing. I had never felt so agile, so lithe in my life.
Finally, we burst into a forest clearing and pulled up short. Ahead, collapsed just inside the clearing, was a large male deer. The buck had fallen on its side, but from my angle I could not see the cause of its distress. It breathed in and out laboriously with shuddering breaths.
We approached the deer. As we got closer, I noticed that it likely faltered because of the arrow that was buried in the its chest almost up to its fletchings. The body I was riding along in spoke in a pleasant and lilting voice.
“Big brother, it is your time. I thank you for the nourishment that you will bring to my family.”
Swinging the bow back over my shoulder, my body reached down and drew a long thin knife from its belt. Then it crouched down and drew the edge of the knife across the stag’s throat ending its misery.
As soon as the deer stopped breathing and the wound stopped pumping blood, my arms reached down and with great difficulty started dragging it to the side of the clearing where there was a tree with a low-hanging branch. Shrugging a pack off my back, my body retrieved a coil of rope. Tying the stag’s rear legs together in some sort of fancy knot, the rope was thrown over the sturdy branch then wrapped once around the tree. My body got down on the ground and bracing its legs against the barrel of the tree-trunk started using those legs to drag the corpse up to hang from the branch.
For the first time since I had arrived on this ride along, I felt the body struggle. Thrust out from the tree trunk. With a quick lunge, adjust the grip on the rope to take up the slack. Miss the lunge and be forced to start all over again. I couldn’t help but consider the mechanical advantage that a couple of pulleys would offer.
Glancing down at my legs, I could see that they were covered by a pair of finely made leather pants. On my feet there were soft-soled leather boots that rose up well above my ankle. The legs themselves were fairly thin and not very long. Yeah, this person was definitely shorter than I am, and thinner that I am as well.
Eventually, after a couple of aborted efforts, the carcass was hanging from the tree branch. The branch itself was showing signs of strain, bent down from the weight of the stag. I hoped it would hold because my legs and arms were burning with fatigue. The rope was wrapped more securely and tied around the tree, and then we stood up shakily, breathing heavily.
Reaching back into the pack, my body retrieved a low pan and a small bag. After opening the bag, its contents were poured into the pan until the bottom of the pan was covered with a dried flaky grain that looked similar to dried oats. My body slid the pan under the carcass to catch the blood that was draining from it. Waste not, want not I guess.
After the majority of the remaining blood had been drained and captured by the grain, the pan was removed and the hunter started dressing the carcass, piling the offal to one side. After pulling out a waxed tarp of some sort, it was quickly loaded with cuts of meat. As the butchering continued, I could see that efforts were being taken to spare the hide. Given the pants and boots that I had seen, I assumed that the hide would be valuable.
Time passed, the remains of the stag being rendered from living creature to resource. Suddenly and inexplicably to me, my body bolted to its feet, spinning around to face the other side of the clearing. Then I heard it, a crashing sound in underbrush from that direction.
Just as I noticed my hands were once again grasping the bow, an arrow loosely nocked, a large creature emerged from the forest. The gigantic brown bear stumbled into the clearing, sniffing at the air. It was having problems with its coordination and flecks of foam adorned its muzzle. Seeing me, it cried out with a low, angry growl.
The thing was massive even though it appeared to be somewhat emaciated. And it looked pissed off. Very pissed off. The arrow held against the bow in front of me looked so very small. Who the hell brings a bow and arrow to a bear fight? We had no chance.
Apparently, the person I was riding along with had reached the same conclusion. We started backing away from the carcass back towards the forest trail. The bear didn’t seem to have eyes for the carcass, though. Instead it growled again and started moving towards us unsteadily.
I know that bears can charge surprisingly quickly, fast enough to get a speeding ticket in a school zone. I think that unsteadiness is all that saved us. Instead of running back down the trail, my body tore off into the woods, heading towards the areas where the trees were the thickest. In these areas, being smaller and dexterous was an advantage. Slipping into narrow gaps between tree trunks, bounding through underbrush, putting as many obstacles between us and the bear as it could, we ran for our life through the forest.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
I could hear the bear crashing along behind us, its frustrated grunts punctuated by the sound of splintering brush. Yet, as we ran the sounds of the bear’s passage grew fainter and fainter, until finally I could not hear them at all. But still, we continued running. This time, it was not with the machine-like ground eating stride. My body was running for its life, and it continued to run until it couldn’t anymore, slowing into a shambling walk. I felt lightheaded, like I couldn’t catch my breath. Finally, we stopped and collapsed against a large tree.
It took quite awhile for our breathing to recover. When I looked down at the hands on my lap in front of me, they were shaking, quivering enough that it was difficult to retrieve the waterskin at our belt. My body drank sloppily, having trouble finding its mouth. Then, I felt a deep chuckle forming low in my chest, and the chuckles grew until the quiet of the forest was split with gales of laughter.
I guess some things are universal. After escaping from being chased by an angry bear, the obvious reactions would be either laughter or tears and I guess laughter won out.
After resting for several minutes, we once again stood up. Then, inexplicably to me, we started retracing the path of our headlong flight back towards the clearing.
Internally, I raged. What the hell are you doing? We just got away from that thing and now you want to tempt fate again? Do you have a freaking death wish? I didn’t think that I could be permanently harmed during one of these visions but I could definitely feel pain and I was not looking forward to the feeling of being torn, chomped and eviscerated by a bear.
On the way back, we moved slowly and carefully, pausing often to listen. The forest just sounded like forest, though. Although I could hear things scurrying around, none of them seemed large enough to be our pursuer. As we traveled, I noticed that the woods were alive around us, small creatures going about their business. I assumed that was a good sign, as I think everything would run for cover if there was an apex predator close.
At some point, we stopped following our back-trail and started cutting through new sections of the forest. In very little time, we had reached the clearing again. I assume that we had not fled from the clearing in a straight line, instead making use of the environmental obstacles that offered themselves.
Surprisingly, things were much as we had left them. The bear had obviously not returned to dine on the kill, but there was evidence that some scavengers had eaten some of the deer’s entrails and there was a cloud of insects around much of the area. The person I was riding along with clearly didn’t want to hang around the clearing for very long. He emptied the pan of the bloody grain and stashed the pan back in his pack. Then, sealing the tarp around the meat that he had harvested, he hoisted it in his arms. With a last, I assume longing, glance at the hide and the meat that remained, he started retracing his steps into the forest.
We made our way through the forest for several hours. Night fell, but it didn’t seem to impede our progress. We didn’t see or hear the bear again. After hours of darkness, my nose detected the smell of a wood fire. The scent became stronger as we continued moving through the trees until we broke out into a small meadow. There was a low wooden cabin in the middle of the meadow and we passed through a rail fence on the way towards the cabin. Off in the distance, I could hear what sounded like chickens. I flinched as a large shadow bounded towards us from behind the cabin, but then realized what I had perceived as a threat was a large dog that had frolicked up to me.
Off to one side, there was a small shed with smoke pouring out of a chimney in the roof. Entering the shed, the air was heavy with the smell of hardwood smoke. Dropping the bundle of meat on a shelf in the shed, which was obviously a smokehouse, we exited and headed towards the door to the cabin.
Outside the cabin was a large trough of water. We stopped to wash up for a few moments, the water cold enough to make me shiver, and then entered the cabin. The inside was rustic but very homey. A female figure sat slumped over a rough table, but as she heard the door open, she sat upright.
“Why are you so late?” she asked. “I was getting very worried.”
Although she was dressed roughly, in leathers and homespun cloth, the woman was beautiful. Her golden hair hung down to her shoulders where it had been bluntly cut to keep it at a manageable length. She was short and willowly, with large emerald eyes. Peeking out of the sides of her hair were the tips of pointed ears. If the stories were to be trusted, she looked elvish.
Collapsing on the bench next to her, my body began talking, its voice recounting the story of the finding the stag, the subsequent hunt, the panicked flight from the bear, and the brief return to gather the meat that could be saved.
“There was something wrong with that bear. I left it the kill but it chased after me instead of taking the easy meal. It didn’t even go back to eat later. It was moving oddly, and foaming at the mouth. If that bear is rabid, it will have to be put down.”
And then abruptly, the vision ended. I found myself back in my body, the pulverized remains of the essence crystal dribbling out of my fist. Unlike the first crystal, I couldn’t immediately detect any changes in my body.
I crawled back out of the thicket and relieved myself in the river. My stomach grumbled at me from lack of food. I knew I needed to get some soon. As I started considering how to accomplish that, I quickly understood that something had changed. I knew how to hunt, and how to track, how to dress a kill and how to move in the forest. Somehow, a whole set of survival skills had been neatly inserted in my mind and even though I knew better, they felt like they had always been there.
A feeling started growing in my chest, one that I had not felt in quite awhile. That feeling was hope. For the first time in this world, I thought that maybe I did have a chance to survive, to feed myself, to defend myself. Hell, I had two more crystals worth of skills to absorb. Maybe I would get something good out of them as well. Soon, though, I needed to get something to eat.
Tomorrow, it would be time to go hunting. But I wondered, was there enough time for one more crystal? Surely, I could do one more before I had to sleep?
I think that you have probably gathered by now that I am prone to addiction. Getting skills, getting power ups merely by riding along in the mind of somebody else for a little while? That felt great, like the best thing ever.
I dragged myself back through the well-worn path into the thicket. After drinking my fill of river water, I went fishing back into the pack for another crystal. Arranging myself as comfortably as I could, I stared deeply into its depths.