Although I personally don’t know anything about trees, the memories I absorbed from the wilderness survival knowledge stone all those weeks ago kick in as soon as I start actively wondering about it.
I need a reasonably-sized tree so that I have sufficient width to be able to hollow out a decent basin inside it without thinning the sides of it too much. Although it seems a bit of a waste to take down a whole tree to just make a single basin – or maybe a couple if I can be bothered to put in the effort – it’s not like I’ll just leave the rest of the wood to rot.
Even if I didn’t need lots of firewood to turn into charcoal for my intentions with the metal ore I collected, I always need wood for my fireplace. Now that I have a decent axe, I might as well start building up a supply. And although my reflex from Earth is to be concerned about deforestation, I highly doubt that I – a single man with a flint-head axe – am going to make much impact on the thousands or millions of trees in this forest.
Besides, if my vague plans come to fruition, I won’t be impacting this area for too much longer.
With my current concerns dealt with, and my other lurking fears being firmly ignored, I focus on the trees around. There are several options here. The trees in this forest are not used to being felled; clearly they grow until either old age takes them or an event happens with the weather which kills off a few. All that means is that there are lots of big trees, something I’d already known.
I want one with decent wood, not one that’s half-rotted inside, so I gaze up at the foliage above to make sure that my choice is healthy. Having scars on the bark itself isn’t an issue, just as long as they’ve healed over.
It’s strange to think about trees like that – gaining scars and healing over injuries. Much like my own flesh. Actually, that’s a thought – could Flesh-Shaping be used on trees? Because that would save a lot of trouble. The thought suddenly makes me think of something else: could I have used Flesh-Shaping on the hides instead of flensing them the old-fashioned way? And could I have reduced the pain I suffered in my knees and back by using a bit of Flesh-Shaping there?
I chide myself for not thinking of it at the time. Without any real guidance about how this Skill works, I risk missing out on important functionalities if I don’t experiment. Well, it’s not like those are the only hides I have, I tell myself. Although I started with the crocodile skin, I’ve also got the salamander hide to deal with too. Not to mention the number of other hides that I want to treat to make some more durable clothes for myself.
For now, however, I’m standing in front of a tree which I need to fell in one way or another. Placing my hand on the tree trunk, I concentrate and try to feed mana into the tree. Nothing happens. Surprise, surprise. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, I sigh to myself.
“This is going to take a bit, River – I want to test something,” I say, figuring that he needs the warning.
As you wish, he answers, unruffled. He seems to be less concerned about me, which is good. I shall keep watch.
“Thanks.” With him watching my back, I feel I can relax a bit. Now, how to do this?
What did I do last time? I think to myself, casting my mind back to my experimentation in the cave with Fenrir keeping guard outside. I’d moved mana from my Core through to the area which was damaged, feeding the mana from the Energy channels to the flesh itself. There, I had controlled it until it finished healing me.
However, this isn’t something inside me, but outside. I’m trying to affect another being here, not my own flesh. It makes sense that I’ll have to do something different. What did I do with the salamander? I wonder, since that is the last time I actually sent my magic into someone without the aim to heal.
It’s harder to remember back to that time – so much has happened since and the occasion itself was a bit of a mess. On the other hand, my memory has improved by leaps and bounds, so after a short time of concentration, I find myself able to almost replay what I did.
I’d sent healing magic into the body, like I’d have done with any of my Bound. Except when it got inside, I’d…taken control of it and directed it to do something that most definitely wasn’t beneficial to the host. Since this whole thing happened before I gained the stat points in my mental and soul stats, and long before I started to understand anything about my Core or internal matrix, it’s not as helpful as I’d hoped. Especially since I no longer have the Skill that automated the process for me.
Maybe I should have tested this on one of my Bound before trying to do it on a tree, I think to myself. Actually….
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“River,” I start, opening my eyes – I’d closed them in concentration at some point. “I’d like to test something on you, if you’re open to more experimentation. I’m not intending it to hurt you in any way, but I can’t promise that it won’t happen accidentally. Are you willing? You can say no, by the way – this definitely isn’t an order.” I want him to be absolutely clear on that before he accepts becoming my guinea pig.
I am at your service, he reminds me.
“Yeah, I know you’ve said that,” I sigh. “But I don’t want you to feel like I’m going to get angry or refuse to help your people if you say no. I can find someone – or something – else to experiment on if necessary.”
Will this help you grow stronger and thus help our group and thereby my village indirectly? I hesitate.
“Well, yes, I suppose,” I reply after a moment. Me learning how to send mana into another body does benefit the group rather directly – it allows me to heal them when they’re injured as well as potentially being able to reduce the threat an opponent poses. After all, trying to learn how to send my magic into someone else’s body when they’re bleeding out doesn’t seem like the best choice if I’ve got the option of practising earlier.
As for River’s village, if I die or my team loses important members, that will reduce the strength that we’ll be able to bring to bear against the Forest of Death. So yes, even indirectly this benefits River’s village.
Then please go ahead. Already shifting towards him, I pause as he continues. However, if it is likely that I will be incapacitated either during or after your experiment, consider calling for another of the group or returning us to the cave for our safety.
I should have thought of that. I sigh to myself and curl my fingers back from where they were reaching out to River. When will I learn to put safety ahead of my impulsive curiosity? He’s right – even though he didn’t say this in as many words, I really should have done this while we were with the others.
Should we just cut this tree down and then I experiment with it later? I wonder. It’ll take a lot longer to cut it down than if I was able to Shape it. Then again, if I went back with River to the plateau to test healing, and then came back to find that I wasn’t able to Shape the tree in the end anyway, I’d have lost daylight hours doing something I could do in the dark.
“Alright, I’ll test later,” I finally decide. OK, I might lose time here, but hopefully I’ll pick up at least a point in Strength with all the physical labour this task will involve. Then, tonight when it’s too dark to do any other task, I’ll experiment with my new Skill. I can always test it on another tree tomorrow or something. “Here,” I say, pulling out the rudimentary tool I made near Bastet’s former home and handing it to River. If it breaks, so be it – it didn’t take long to make in the first place.
He takes it with an air of confusion even as I look carefully at the tree and the area around it.
You wish me to dig and find more odd-coloured rocks? he asks in bemusement.
“No,” I reply, unable to help smiling a little. “We’re chopping down a tree and you’re going to help me. Here, watch me.” I withdraw my own axe, one which will hopefully be more hard-wearing than the one the lizard-man is holding in his clawed paws.
Focussing on a single spot on the tree, I swing my axe at it. Half-expecting to miss the spot I was aiming at completely, I’m pleased when I almost hit it. That must be the points in Dexterity speaking, even if this type of aiming is somewhat different from my archery.
The flint head chips off some bark and bites into the wood of the tree a little. Pulling it out, I swing again, biting a little more into the wood of the tree. This time when I withdraw it, the blade sticks just a little, heralding the more difficult task we’ll have later.
“So, I’m going to dig a little bit more into this side, and then we’re going to work on the other side together,” I tell River. “Just make sure that you’re never swinging that tool towards me, OK? It’s not particularly sharp, but I’d rather not have it break one of my bones either.”
As you say, he agrees and then waits patiently as I cut a notch from the side of the tree on which I’d like it to fall. From my quick look around, this direction seems the least likely to get too tangled up with other trees. Some tangling will definitely happen, and we’ll need to cut the trunk a couple of other times before being able to move the whole of it, but the fewer cuts necessary at this stage, the better. I’m hoping that if we can chop the trunk into small enough pieces that I’ll be able to lift them a little off the ground, then I’ll be able to put it in my Inventory.
Those are later considerations, however. First we need to get the tree down.
*****
Hours later when the cracking meets my ears, I can’t help a tired grin from pushing the corners of my mouth upwards. We haven’t cut all the way through the trunk, but we’ve cut enough of a notch out that the weight of the tree is pulling it over.
We’d had a few early scares with the wind shoving the top-heavy piece of massive flora around, but fortunately it didn’t collapse on us at any point – always a concern when cutting down tall trees.
The descent of one of the mighty forest giants is an awe-inspiring event, its branches ripping at the other trees around like it’s doing its best to claw its way back to uprightness. When the roar of its fall ceases, the forest around is silent for a long moment as if in respectful mourning.
A little sadness mixes with the elation of my success, the mixture of emotions once more threatening to bring tears to my eyes. I need to figure out these mood-swings, I tell myself, blinking them away angrily.
Again, that’s something to do later: right now, I need to concentrate on the rest of the hard work we need to accomplish before dark. Felling the tree, after all, is only the beginning of the labour.