The young man’s parentage has never been questioned in the village. In fact, the running joke amongst the people is that the Aelder tree blessed the boy with his mother’s face, much to the delight of the young ladies and his father’s chagrin. The only traits he shares with his father is his average height and distinctive hair color. What worries me is that these traits could easily have been picked up from the aforementioned Paladin, as well as an instinctive trust in the church to provide help, since that wasn’t prevalent in either his mother or father. Again, please forgive this one for my undignified gossip. I will write of this no more.
---
“Good morning Mildred.”
“Good morning Eagan,” the woman behind the store counter replied, startling the farmer who didn’t notice her presence.
“Oh, my apologies, good morning Mildred.”
“Ha-ha-ha, I believe you already said that. You must be having a slow morning.”
“Oh? I guess I am, I’ve been having troubles sleeping lately, I think I should order a new mattress.”
“I can put in an order for one if you’d like.”
“That’d be great.”
---
Success! I have reverse engineered the [Message] spell from D&D. Damn, that was nerve wracking. I didn’t need to worry nearly as much about the birds I tested my spell on since they wouldn’t notice something wasn’t right. I need to be more careful though… can’t just let people know that I can talk. They might think I’m evil… or some kind of angelic voice… or… crazy…
Calm down… no need to panic… just because you’ve spent the last decade carefully watching the lip movements, body language, and vibrations in the air of every person in town, doesn’t mean that you aren’t all there anymore.
Yes, you’ve had to discard some of the remains of your humanity in order to create a living database of memories just so you can translate and output the recognized patterns in what amounts to the equivalent of using only an audio visualizer to capture and transmit sound.
Just breathe… in, and out… in, and out…
Let’s practice a different spell… ok focus on the Water Mana embedded in your body… the sword…
No, stop. You need to focus, now use your willpower to increase the pulsing of the Water Mana in you.
Ok, now shape the Water Mana that has gathered near you and is now pulsing at the same rate… change the formation from a condensing array to a radiating one… and release!
The spell, about the size of a quarter, shoots off, leaving a small vapor trail as it arcs over and through the tree branches to land on the unsuspecting child.
Boom! Headshot!
The new blacksmith’s little girl, Ingrid, immediately accuses Travis, the Farmer’s son, claiming loudly to everyone, that he spit on her. The little bastard smartly gets revenge by owning up and yelling that he simply thought her pigtails were on fire again.
Relief finally floods my mind as I take a moment to chuckle at my prank. Maybe I don’t need to rush in trying to communicate with someone?
After all, I’ve only collected a decade of conversations in the town so far… I might need more… gotta expand that vocabulary! Plus, how should I introduce myself? I need to make a good impression, don’t want people thinking I’m evil… or crazy…
They wouldn’t think that right? I mean, it’s only been a century, maybe two, since I last spoke with someone. I can wait another… just need to find that perfect moment… when I’m calm, collected, and not panicking at the thought of interacting with someone again.
Just breathe… in, and out… in, and out… ignore the fact that you’re an immortal object that doesn’t have lungs… in, and out… in, and out…
---
Ok, mild panic attack subsided, that only took about 8 hours this time! The tendrils of madness have been pushed back once again! Thanks to, the power of… what will soon be… FRIENDSHIP!
I just need to find someone to talk to… but who?
Definitely not the priest, I do not want to piss off any local gods by unintentionally making him think I’m them. Especially, if one of them was the jerk who put me here in the first place.
Maybe the old blacksmith? After his son took over, he’s been wandering around kind of aimless. I think his memory must be failing him. He’ll go into a store, say hello, chat for a bit, and then move on to the next, until he finishes the loop around town, and then starts all over, not realizing that he was already there earlier that day.
If I talked to him, maybe he’d just forget after a while? Although maybe I shouldn’t… having to repeat the same conversation every time might just aggravate my impending madness even further. Which would be a bad thing… because I don’t want people to think I’m crazy… which I’m definitely, most likely, in my unbiased opinion, not.
After all, if people start think he’s hearing voices, they might think he’s crazy! Then no one will want to talk to him… they might even lock him up… secure his arms and legs so he can’t hurt anyone… maybe give him some birds to watch… put him in a spot where he can’t bother anyone… like a… tree…
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Ok, just breathe! In, and out… in, and out… in, and… AAGGHHH!
There’s Travis! I’ll talk to him, he’s perfect! He’s just a little brat that likes to terrorize everyone and everything! No one will believe him if he starts claiming that he hears voices!
---
I wait patiently for Travis to return home for supper, watching the little hellion like a hawk. Excellent… I’ll just wait until night when he goes to bed, and his father finally falls asleep on the living room chair. The little tyke will probably just think he’s dreaming at first. It’s PERFECT…
I feel my non-existent blood pressure rise however when he slows down outside of the house. Why is he stopping? I look inside and of course, the one day I finally decide to grace these mortals with my presence, his parents are having yet another argument! Seriously! You had one yesterday, and another a few days before, and… over a hundred… other arguments before…
Oh no…
I watch as Travis peeks through the window, notices that supper isn’t ready and slowly walks back towards my tree.
He slumps against the trunk, resting his arms on his legs, with his head, now covered with tears, buried underneath.
Dammit, what the hell was I thinking! The last thing that poor kid needs is a bunch of people calling him a liar.
Maybe I should say something… but what?
I rewind and watch the argument his parents are having… something about him wasting money when she wants to take Travis to the capitol for the winter festival… he then fires back saying that they couldn’t afford to go anyways, and that they wouldn’t return in time for spring planting, making him have to do double the work next spring.
They keep firing back and forth, not taking time to actually listen to each other or at least realize that their argument isn’t being productive right now and should be put on hold until they have a chance to cool down.
I check back in on Travis, he’s calmed down a bit now; and his head is back up, resting on his arms.
I take a big… imaginary… metaphorical… breath, and cast the message spell.
“It’s not your fault.” Ugh, is that really the best that I can come up with?
“What? Who said that?” I watch Travis as he swings his head around, looks behind the tree, and after failing to see anyone nervously asks “Hello. Is someone there?”
“I said that. Can you hear me alright? I’ve never spoken to anyone here before.” OK, pull back on the reigns a bit, don’t say too much, being a little bit mysterious should be fine… right?
Travis keeps whipping his head around, “Yeah, I can hear you… you sound a bit funny though…”
“I do? Funny how? Am I making a silly voice? Or slurring my words? Or…” I clamp down on the spell, ending it before I can start babbling like a madman.
“Umm, it’s like you’re pausing between each word, but… not pausing?”
I know how to fix that! “How about now? I can add more changes if I still sound strange.”
“No, you’re good now.” Travis takes a moment to look around again, “I don’t see you anywhere…”
“Yeah, sorry. It’s been a long time since I talked to someone, so I’m kind of hiding from everyone right now.” Yes… smart plan, just start opening up to the first person you talk to, he definitely won’t think you’re a weirdo.
“How come?”
I immediately regret picking a child to talk to… the little bastards don’t understand when to not ask the follow up question. Well, I guess I made my bed. Now I’m going to have to untuck my sheets and lie in it.
“I’m scared of what people might think of me. I’m… not a human.”
“Really? What are you?”
“I’d rather not say right now, can you ask me something else?”
“OK, umm, my name is Travis. What’s yours?”
Good question, I guess I could use my old human one, but you’re not supposed to do that when you reincarnate… yeah, I better not, some of those bigger souls and gods might think that I’m trying to cheat death and then might do something even worse than trap me in a sword.
“I don’t have one, any suggestions?”
Travis actually starts smiling at the opportunity, “How about… Mr. Shouty?”
“What are you? Five?”
“No, I just turned ten!”
“Just, pick something else please.”
“Thunder-man!”
“No”
“Skylord, Master of the Tree!”
“Seriously?”
“Umm, Gerald?”
“I think that one’s taken…”
Travis starts frowning, and then gets even more upset when there’s no one to frown at.
“Sorry, I’ll think of something for next time when we talk. Would you like to talk together again? I think your parents are getting supper ready, so we don’t have much longer.”
Travis turns to look over at his house and the little shit lets out a depressed sigh right in front of me. Stop flaunting off your lungs!
He doesn’t seem to want to move… I guess I should give him that pep talk that I was supposed to do…
“I meant what I said earlier. It’s not your fault that your parents keep arguing. I know for a fact that they both love and care for you. They’re just… not very good when it comes to listening to each other, plus neither of them is very good at telling the other what exactly it is that they want when they do get the chance.”
Hearing this, Travis starts stomping his feet, “But parents aren’t supposed to argue! None of the other parents do!”
“That’s not true. Just last week Franklin the Blacksmith was arguing with his wife when she suggested that they should have his father sent to a retirement village.
Mildred’s husband refuses to go to church on Woodsday since he’s a firm believer of Ignitious, even though he promised to convert when they got married.
Heck, Holly and Pippen are arguing right now! She’s mad that Pippen keeps going out at night to hunt leaving her to tend to the leatherworking shop during the day and… other reasons… that you’re too young to know about yet.”
Travis’ tantrum finally dies down leaving him with a defeated look, “So there’s nothing I can do to make them stop?”
“Well, when you go in tonight, you can try bringing up that you heard them arguing. They might start again, but if you want, I can try to help you mediate for them?”
“Mediate?”
“Umm, that thing that the priest does when he visits couples when they need help… wait! What am I doing!
Turn around! Run to the church and go ask Father Viburnum for help. Ask him to come to supper and tell him that your parents have been arguing again. I think he’ll know what to do”
“Ok, umm, can you come with me?”
“I’m kind of stuck where I am right now, but I can see everything in this town, and even quite a bit further out. I’ll personally keep an eye on you and make sure nothing bad happens.”
Travis begins running to the church, “OK! I’ll go tell him that you sent me!”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! If you tell Father Viburnum that you're hearing voices, he’ll… probably make you pray at the altar and… start dumping water over your head! And then even worse, you’ll miss supper!”
To my relief, the little speed demon manages to stop before entering the church.
“Tell you what, how about we keep this a secret for now? I don’t want to spend all night casting [Message] spells trying to convince Father Viburnum that I’m not a monster or something else from his nightmares.”
Travis stops hearing me halfway through and starts getting super excited, “You can cast spells!”
“Umm, yeah. How do you think that I am able to talk to you?”
The little kid somehow starts vibrating even harder, “CAN YOU TEACH ME!”
Ok, maybe you can ensure his secrecy, just whatever you do, don’t sound evil…
“Alright, I will, but you’re going to have to make me a promise…”