Several hours of walking later and I've decided wholeheartedly that I don't like this forest anymore. The air got humid to the point that the thin shirt I spawned with is wrapped around my head to slow sweat getting in my eyes. For a while, I try to use my wings to fan myself, but my control is severely lacking and I hit more bushes than I can count before I give up.

In terms of sustenance, there's plenty of water dripping from some large waxy leaves, but nothing in terms of food.

Most of the plants that I come across have the same dark leaves that the canopy trees boast, and something about them makes me cautious about eating ant of the slightly green parts, or the ominously black roots and tubers they hide.

This forest is creepy in a major way.

The worst part is that there's no sign of animals. I can't hear a thing aside from damp leaves and dripping water, I can't see a single hint of animal life either. No tracks, dropping, nothing.

I'm starving at this point, but I know from experience I can feel for another day and a half if the temperature stays the same and I can keep drinking from the wide leaves.

That's my one saving grace. The forest that is more of a jungle is surprisingly cool, yet somehow more humid than I thought was physically possible. It's like I'm constantly taking a cool shower.

It was pleasant at first, but I've realised all top soon that being dry in here is no more than a dream. Barely an hour in and the wood I was carrying was slimy. Another hour later and the dead wood was falling to pieces.

I had to abandon it all, annoyed at the wasted time and energy.

My situation has quickly become dire. From my position up on the dune I could see that the forest extended to the horizon. By earth standards, that would be roughly 3 miles. With the height of the dunes and the trees, I would bump it up to maybe 4 or 5.

Regardless, I must have passed that point after the first hour. By now, I might have reached the 20-mile mark with no notable difference in my surroundings.

My stomach grumbles in agreement with my current mood, and I sigh in disappointment. I had higher hopes than this.

*Thwack*

Suddenly I can hear an impact far off to my right. I wait, and it quickly comes again. It's quiet, but I'm certain it's there.

I race towards the sound, but skid to a stop on the damp vegetation a few seconds later.

Why am I sprinting into the unknown? What if it's hostile?

Annoyed at the stupid mistake I would have been about to make, I instead duck low, hiding in the dark leaves at knee height. I keep a slow pace, making my movements as quiet as possible so I can sneak up on whatever the source of the sound is. I keep my wings folded tightly and tucked behind my back. I don't want them getting in the way.

The closer I get, the more obvious the sound is. Somewhere ahead of me, someone is using an axe to chop down a tree. Why anyone would want to use the wood of these trees that would never burn and would make a terrible material, I don't know. Maybe they're just trying to clear an area?

I catch the glint of sharp metal for an instant and duck lower. I crawl around the abnormally large tree being cut until I can just about make out who is holding the axe.

Somewhat surprisingly, the first thing I see of the wielder is that they have a snakehead. And I don't mean they have scales and fangs, a meter of snake body extends from a humanoid set of shoulders and ends with a snakes head twice as large as any I've seen on earth.

The entire torso of the snake-man is scaled, and I'm fascinated by the way the large muscles roll under the shiny scales. From the build, I assume the creature is male. As I shift my view of him, the crude cloth covering his groin only supports that.

So I'm placed at crossroads, unsure of how to proceed. I could attempt to reveal myself to the creature. On the chance that it speaks the same language as me, this could be my salvation: the diplomatic choice. I could pass by him, and attempt to locate his home by tracking the route he took. When I get to it, re-assess my choices: the stealth choice. Or, and something in me roars for this desire, I could kill him. Take his axe, track his route to his home and either eliminate anyone else or use my powers as a threat to control with.

I take a deep breath and step out of the brush with my hands up. The diplomatic approach is the only realistic choice.

The snake-man flinches at my arrival and turns to glare at me. Though that might just be due to this particular snake's eyes always appearing to glare. I can't imagine them being overly expressive.

The snake-man lowers his axe and takes a few seconds to taste the air. His tongue is far longer than a regular snake's and whips furiously in my direction.

"I mean no harm. But I could use some help."

He tilts his head slightly and seems to glare only harder.

"Do you understand me?"

I take a step towards and he takes a step away from me, raising his crude stone axe in defence.

I retreat quickly, unwilling to make myself a threat.

"Sorry. I'll take that as a no."

I've been in this situation before. I need help from a person or people who don't understand me. I only hope there are universal signs of request here too.

I slowly lower my hands and rub my stomach while miming eating from my other hand.

The snake bobs his head up and down, executing what I hope is his species' version of a nod. He points at the tree he's still halfway through felling and then pushes his flat hand towards me, telling me to wait.

I step back and sit on the ground, taking some time to relax and rest. The snake man seems wary of me as I can see his eyes flick towards me occasionally. But I pay him little attention. Now that my immediate concerns are alleviated slightly, I can focus more of my attention on my magic.

I got the mana manipulation perk in my last body, and I think my ability to cast more than one spell at once is due to that. Declan never mentioned multi-casting but he didn't know I selected the perk.

And since I can manipulate my mana to be cast from multiple places at once, I see no reason why I can't change the spell itself.

Unfortunately, I think casting potentially explosive spells near this native will only incur hostility, I'll have to keep all the mana internal.

So I close my eyes and focus my attention to my centre, feeling for the energy that I fuel my spells with. My image of the energy is refined now. The energy flowing from my core is still warm, but it's taken on a blue glow.

The energy, my mana, flows like water around my torso. I can move it like water, too. I can't hold parts of it separate, but I can lead it, letting it flow from the source to where I want it to go.

I let my control over the mana go, and it quickly retreats back to the source. A slight splinter of pain remains where the tendrils once flowed. It was only a small amount that I used, prompting me to not leave too much mana uncontrolled within me. I may not have taken any damage from the small amount I used, but that could change all too quickly.

Excited at the potential the energy holds, I draw out another tendril, a thicker one, and let the energy pool in my hand.

From here, I know I can split the stream of energy to each of my fingers, but instead, I let the energy pool there and push it through the palm of my hand. I open my eyes, and I can make out a rough circle of energy under the skin of my palm.

If I were to speak the trigger for the spell, I wonder how it would differ from when I cast it from my fingertips.

But I daren't spook my scaled friend, so I lead the mana in a loop back to the source. This way, there's no pain from the mana running rampant. The glow in my hands slowly dims too, as the energy is released.

I look up to the snake, but he is still reverently hacking at the first tree, so I guess I have more time to practice.

I spend another half hour practising drawing mana from my core to various extremities. It's harder to draw mana through my legs, which I assume is due to the distance. But I have no need to cast pierce from my feet... yet.

All through this, there's been the rhythmic thumping of the snake using his axe on the huge tree he seems determined to cut down. I did my best to ignore it at first, so I only notice the noise again when it stops. My eyes snap open, and I look to the native lumberjack.

His head is darting in all directions, and his tongue going wild. With an incredible effort, he grabs the trunk of the huge tree that he's been hacking at and pulls hard enough for the remaining wood to groan in protest.

Instantly, I recognise the fear in his eyes. He heard or rather tasted, something coming towards us.

I hear what sounds like wind rushing through leaves at the edge of my senses. The snake must have heard it too, as he redoubles his efforts to fell the tree.

Holding my hands flat like blades, I aim all ten of my digits at the base of the tree and pull mana into all of them at once.

"Fast!"

Multiple spells cast (10)

-200mp

I feel a large drain on my self as a decent portion of my mana disappears instantly. Ten points of blue light in two rough rows thudded in the base of the tree, causing two deep and rough gouges to appear.

I hear a deeper snap in the tree, and it tilts slightly.

But it's not enough.

"Fast! Fast! Fast!"

Three more times I do the same thing, tearing a huge chunk from the tree, the same information appearing each time. After the second volley, the exposed deeper wood is pitch black and bleeds a red sap. I wonder if this is why the snake wants this tree in particular.

The tree lets out a final few snaps and falls surprisingly short distance. It slams into the ground, almost uprooting several of the trees around it.

It was impossible for me to see while it was standing, but the tree with a base several times larger than every other one is also several times shorter. From severed end to thin end, I would place it at four meters tall.

The snake lets out a pleased gasp and defying my expectations, hefts the full weight onto his shoulder. I'm left open-mouthed for a second as what I'm seeing defies even the altered views I've rebuilt since coming to this world. He looks back at me, using half of his neck to hold the tree on his shoulder.

One insistent hiss is all it takes to urge me on. He has already started sprinting away, his axe retrieved and tucked into the back of his waist cloth. Despite the unreal mass he is holding, he is far faster than me, and before long, I have to rely on the wake of trampled greenery he leaves behind rather than actually following him.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The sound of wind through leaves has increased significantly and I can barely hear my own footsteps or laboured breath.

I look behind me for an instant, but can't see anything through the dense trees. I can hear things though. An underlying rumble through the ground and the faint snapping of branches and twigs. Whatever is following us, there's a lot of them.

I can see flashes of light ahead, a break in the trees. I push myself harder, sure that salvation lies where the darkness ends.

Suddenly the trees are gone, and so is the ground. I'm just about to run off the edge of a huge crack in the ground when my arm is grabbed harshly and the snake-man swings me back up to the ground.

He hisses at me angrily and quickly puts the huge tree on his shoulder, running off along a well-trodden path that runs parallel to the crack in the ground.

I glance sideways into the forest as I run, and slithers of red and green lights flicker back at me. They weave around the trees, following my progress with frightening agility.

I'm tempted to throw some spells their way, but as fast as the bolt of mana is, I'm sure I won't be able to aim well as I run. All I can do is trust my scaled guide.

Speaking of, he's stopped at a point where the gap is smaller. It's still a fair few meters across, but far closer than anywhere else.

He takes a short run-up, and leaps the gap, landing with plenty of distance to spare. All the while he still has the tree on his shoulder, an image that is almost comical in the light.

I reach the point where he jumped and can decidedly say that it's not going to happen.

I look up at his expectant face, but I can only shake my head in reply. My body may be stronger than it was before, but not that much stronger.

With a victorious screech, beasts clear the trees and in an instant, they've circled me.

First tens, then hundreds, then almost a thousand scrawny, yet feral apes crawl from the trees, staring at me. I try to calm my shaky breathing, knowing I have no chance of surviving a fight with them. There's no leader I can kill to demoralize them, and they have more numbers than I have spells.

They creep towards me slowly, making sure I have no chance to get away from them. I have plenty of space between me and the gap, but I'm essentially stuck between a rock and a hard place. Except the rock is a pack of ravenous murder monkeys, and the hard place is a huge drop that is becoming more and more desirable by the second.

If I were to make the jump, my chance is rapidly closing. The approach of the beasts is making me slowly retreat towards the edge, and if I want to run and jump, I'll have to do it sooner rather than later.

Another insistent hiss comes from behind me, barely audible over the thumping of my heart in my ears.

"FUCKING FINE! FAST!"

Multiple spells cast (10)

-200mp

I flare out my hands and ten bolts of mana shoot out of my fingers like a starburst, hitting ten random targets. I'm sure I hit some of them, but without any messages, I know none of them died. The monkeys recoil at the danger I seem to present an I take the moment of hesitation to turn tail and run.

I push myself as hard as I can, pulling my wings free from my trousers and spreading them slightly, giving a small experimental flap to try and give some lift.

I can hear the monkeys charge at me screeching and hollering, furious that their prey is attempting to escape again.

But if I'm going to die, I'll do it by my hand. And right now, I'd rather try and fail than let myself be torn apart. So I jump.

I focus all my strength on my wings, desperate to even get the slightest bit of lift from them.

*SNAP*

"Ugh!"

-29hp

My left wing snaps near the joint, proving yet again they aren't strong enough for any sort of flight. The weak limbs can't even be used to glide.

Despite my heroic leap and less heroic flying, I can see the far large rising above my outstretched hands, too far away.

Well, I gave it a go at least.

I shut my eyes and accept the painless way I'm about to die when I feel a hard grip on my wrist. I'm pulled to a jagged stop that strains all the muscles in my arm.

-8hp

In shock, I open my eyes to a clawed and scaled hand gripping mine tight enough for the claws to dig into my skin.

I look up to the snake-man hanging from the ledge by one hand, his other holding my own. He saved me for some reason.

He also appears to be strained. His eyes are closed, and an obvious frown forms on his reptilian face. I quickly climb up his shoulders and then to the stone ledge, pulling myself up without any more injury.

The snake pulls himself up too, looking frustrated but none the worse for wear. He silently readjusts his waist cloth, picks up the tree again with a hissing grunt, and motions for me to follow.

We take off again at a walking pace. The whole running and spellcasting ordeal has left me out of breath and tired in a way I've never been before. As we walk back into the dense forest onto a rough path, I cross my heart and open my status.

Name: - (The Cause)

Species: Human (immortal)

Level: 12 (11%) (+)

Health: 234/270 (6.14%)

Mana: 912/1896 (6.14%)

Class: (none)

Body: 27 (+)

Mind: 158

Soul: 614

Perks:

-Mana:

• [1] Big spells

• [2] Bigger spells

• [3] Soulful spells

• [3] Mana manipulation

• [4] Shapeless Magic

• [4] Hard Mind

-Soul:

• [1] Moulded Soul

• [2] Hunter Soul

• [3] Neutral Soul

• [4] Soul of Magic

• [5] Strong Soul

• [5] Monstrous Soul

• [6] Hidden Soul

• [7] Powerful Soul

• [7] Surviving Soul

• [8] Alien Soul

• [9] Soul of the Fool

• [10] Wings

Skills: none

Spells:

• Hard

• Fast

I managed to use up a solid thousand mana in the last few minutes, an act which I'm sure is what's exhausted me so much. I'm not sure how mana really affects me, or what it even is, but I imagine what I did would be the same as using half of my stamina in an equally demanding situation. I would be left feeling burnt out.

So to give myself a chance to relax and regenerate my mana, I tune out of reality, letting myself only follow the track ahead of me and fall into my memories.

----------------------------------------

In my mind, I'm in Europe, Northern France. I can't remember what year it is, but the village I live in is soon to be attacked by raiders. Vikings possibly, but we have no way of knowing. We have almost no chance of surviving or even fighting back.

If we had known even a day beforehand, we could have sent word to Lord Feltére who would have sent a division of soldiers to attempt to cripple the raiding party. They are a plague in our lands and our king Louie will do nothing. Last we heard, his family was killed, so he is busy grieving. I can understand his grief, but he is a king. He should do better. He should be better.

They will be upon us within the hour, and the small collection of rusty weapons and mouldy armour will do little to even slow them. Yet the seven strongest men will still fight. They know they will die, but they are the hope of their family. They are the hope of the entire village. My husband, one of them, leads the rest. He knows little of commanding and even less of murdering, but he fights for me.

I love him, but I have been here for too long. He doesn't know what I am, and there is only so long I can keep lying to him about why I look the same way as I did almost eleven years ago.

As tragic as it may sound, this is the perfect opportunity I need to disappear.

I step outside of my cottage, immediately my mood worsens as thunder roars over the shore. Rain will follow, but that is of little concern to the raiders.

I nod grimly to another of the women who must watch their husband die at the hand of the more skilled. She has the same expectations as me. She knows she won't see her husband again. If only we had been more successful in recent years, we could afford to send the women and their children away in this event. They could run, hide further inland, but they would have nothing to come back to. The northern invaders have a reputation. They arrive, they kill, they pillage, they kidnap. Most of those here would rather live as a servant to them than die a slow starving death in the shell of a village.

A sad way to leave the place they grew up, sure, but I wouldn't be one of them. I have far too much experience to go down so easily. Behind my house, away from prying eyes, I dig up a bundle coated in waxed sheepskin. Bringing the bundle back inside, I unravel it to reveal a small armoury that I've built up and maintained whenever possible. A fishing hook that I've recommissioned into a sturdy javelin. Several knives that I can conceal on my body at once, and a collection of sharp throwing instruments. Knives, needles, and a four-pointed star-shaped piece of metal. None of these are made well, but I don't plan on using them to kill anyway. At best they are a painful distraction.

All that remains of my armoury is a set of light leather armour that I stole when I first woke up in this body. I have since modified it to fit me better, the vambraces have been covered in enough metal to deflect a well-angled sword, and it has all been dyed and coated black.

It pales in comparison to some of my better-funded sets of assassin wear, but it will serve its purpose.

I hastily get dressed, shivering in the cold evening air. As a final measure, I use my sharpest knife to cut off as much of my hair as I can. The last thing I need is a distraction like that. I must wait until darkness to strike. I am good, but not good enough to fight off a raiding ship of invaders head-on.

I am too anxious to sit and wait, so I busy myself with checking the functionality of each of my pieces, making sure the javelin will fly straight, and all my knives will stay secured on my person. Even that can't stop my hands from shaking, so I start pacing, fast.

Sounds of shouting reach me. Sounds of fighting. Dying. They will be upon us within minutes.

I stow away all of my smaller weapons on my body again and leave my javelin on the floor atop my discarded clothes. I climb up onto the old wooden table that stands in front of the now extinguished and cold hearth, and jump up, grabbing onto the thick rafters. With some difficulty, as my muscles are not sufficiently developed, I lift myself up until I can ease myself on top of the central one.

I shuffle along it until I am perched just above the entrance to my house. Without the fire, it is dark, and I know I am perfectly hidden with my black leathers.

Screams erupt from the nearby houses. With a heavy heart, I must accept my husband failed. In all likelihood, he's dead.

Mere moments later and the door beneath me is kicked open. To my annoyance, two huge men armoured in thick leathers and furs rush in. They are both bear headed to my delight and take their time searching the place for treasures. Of course, treasures in villages such as this one are few and far between. The only real items of value are the silver coins I left by my bed.

Nevertheless, one of the invaders takes their time searching. Giving me enough time to shuffle slowly closer to the other, who is examining my weapon and discarded clothes.

He asks a question to the other in the Norse tongue. I fail to catch all of the words, my time in Scandinavia recently being brief, but I manage to piece together the sentence.

"Why is this one empty? A woman lived here, did she run? And why the spear?

The other grunts in response and the first stands up, shrugging away any questions. It would normally have made no difference to them if someone had run away. They didn't rely on kidnapping women for all that much, and even if someone were to go for help, they would be long gone by the time it arrived.

But since I'm still here, and with both of my potential victims distracted, I can do something a little better than just call for help.

I make sure that I'm just above the nearest man, and silently take two of my longer knives from their leather sheaths. I take a slow breath and let myself fall off the rafter.

Hisssss!

My recollection pauses while I'm still falling.

Since when was there a hissing in old France?

The hissing returns, more insistent this time.

Oh yeah, reality... And I was just getting to the good part too.

----------------------------------------

Annoyed that my recollection of my most satisfying chain-killing has been interrupted, I scowl slightly as I focus on where the snake has lead me.

The area hasn't changed all that much. The tree density is a little thinner, so there's slightly more light around, but it's otherwise the same dark and damp jungle.

But there's a new smell in the air; burnt wood, and the slight smell of... cooked meat. food! My stomach cramps again at the mere thought of a leg of hot meat. I would happily settle for a cooked monkey, especially if I got to kill it first.

The snake looks at me cautiously and holds his hand out, fingers splayed. Then he points at the ground and taps his nose three times.

I'm not sure if that means to just wait, or if he's indicating to wait for some period of time, but I get the message. I nod and sit with my back against a nearby tree.

He sighs in relief, looking the most human-like I've seen him yet. He nods back at me and continues along the trail, disappearing quickly as it winds through the trees.

And before I know it, I'm alone again, the silence of the forest deafening.

"Nothing to do, so make something to do."

I'm curious about the entire situation with the snake, but I'm starting to trust him after he saved me. I don't want to betray him by charging in on his village with no warning.

So I want to fill in my wait some other way. The mood has been ruined, so I don't want to finish the particular memory I was reliving. I adjust my position against the tree, shifting my freshly healed wings so I can lean against the hard surface more comfortably.

I could try to train my wings to flap naturally because my only attempts to flap them are akin to someone trying to fly using their arms.

The stretch of path that I'm waiting at is fairly straight, so I'll consider it my runway for now. I stand up and stretch my wings out, stumbling back a few steps as my centre of mass shifts too far.

The limbs are surprisingly flexible, being able to bend in a wide arc both forwards and backwards. Using a reasonable effort, I push them forwards, blowing a gust into the bushes in front of me and pushing me back into another tree.

I brace myself properly against the ground and push again, making a stronger gust. I can feel the strain on the weak muscles so I tone down the strength I'm applying and keep flapping my wings forwards. When the muscles are noticeably aching, I adjust the angle and start to push air towards my feet, forcing me upwards temporarily.

Even at the upper reaches of my starved efforts, I can do little more than temporarily make myself lighter. Despite my lingering amazement at the fact I have wings, I'm increasingly frustrated over how useless they are to me right now.

Little more than a burden.

Anger circles my mind, an emotion born of my ignorance and helplessness. I can't improve if I don't learn, and I can't learn unless I keep myself alive. And living is much harder to do here than it ever was on earth.

I turn and raise my fist to punch the air, reluctant to hurt myself against a tree, and I feel mana furiously surging towards my fist.

I pause, feeling inside myself for the movement of the mana. The mysterious substance has pooled around the front of my still-clenched fist. The mana only halted by the lack of an intention. I have to catch and control it before the mana goes rogue and tears my hand apart on the inside.

That's something I'll have to keep check of. I can't let my mana go free inside me led by my rampant emotions. You'd think that I'd be the epitome of calm and calculating considering how long I've lived, but I'm scared for the first time in a long time.

I'm not used to this world, and it scares me. All my experiences are worth less and less the more I stay, and I am nothing without my past.