Cad wearily fell to the ground, physically, mentally, and magically exhausted. The little fox ran over to him and licked his face and he couldn’t help but smirk slightly. He may have somehow woken up in a strange and dangerous place, but at least now he had a slightly stinky and rather murderous fox by his side.

After several minutes, fear of the fox cub’s den coming searching roused Cad from his lying reverie and he stood once again. He began trying to put the pieces together, something which seemed impossible given his limited amount of information.

I somehow learned a spell and a skill. I’m not sure what the difference is between those two, and they both had odd labels. So is this like a game world, with magical powers? I did create a familiar bond with some sort of fox, whatever that means.

He thought over everything he had seen since he arrived in this strange forest. The two suns, the so-called Mana-Fox, and all the strange messages that appeared to overlay his eyesight. That he had somehow been transported across dimensions into a world similar to those from video games from his homeworld was the only explanation he could come up with.

This realization almost brought on another spurt of panic, but recognizing the danger this forest could hold, he pushed it down for the time being and tried to remember all the things his outdoorsy family had drilled into him as a kid. I need to find clean water, a place to sleep, and a source of food. He looked around at what he now realized was a small clearing in a much thicker forest. Right… no big deal.

He decided he needed more information before he followed any specific path. For all he knew, he could have dropped right next to some sort of town and could accidentally head in the opposite direction. That’s assuming that there is any civilization on this planet at all, he thought, dryly, though he immediately pushed it down, knowing there would be an emotional reckoning to deal with later.

Most of the trees around him seemed to be some mix of what he recognized as pine trees and maybe sequoias, though he was no arborist back on Earth, let alone in this new world. Conveniently, though, they seemed to have sturdy branches that reached most of the way down the trunk. He would have to scoot his way up to the lowest branches, but he thought he could make climb up to get a better vantage point.

He glanced at the fox again. Its silver-black fur still glowing with a very faint green color. The small creature looked back at him curiously. Did it somehow gain intelligence by becoming my familiar? Strange, he shrugged. He couldn’t think of any way to find out, so he pushed it off into the growing list of problems for his future self.

For now, he could only think of one problem that might be possible to solve: direction. He looked up at the tall tree in front of him, thinking that he probably wouldn’t last long in this forest with a broken leg. But he knew that he likely wouldn’t last long in this forest without a broken leg either and, knowing that, steeled his will.

“Let’s climb a damn tree,” he said to the little fox. As if it understood his intentions, it ran up to the giant pine-like tree and scurried up with no hesitation. If only I had claws. He thought to himself. Deciding to follow the fox’s confident lead, he ran up to the tree and jumped as high as he could, reaching his arms and legs barely more than halfway around it. But that was enough, and he slowly scooted his way up the bottom of the tree.

After almost a minute of this process, he finally hit his head against one of the lowest branches, and it felt sturdy. Breathing heavily from the climb already, he reached over the branch and pulled himself up. He sat there for a few moments, his breath slowly calming. He was only ten or eleven feet off the ground, but it felt like much more than that.

He glanced above and saw the small fox staring down at him from several branches away. “Hey, little buddy. In my head I keep calling you ‘small fox,’ so I figure I should probably give you a name. Any ideas?” The fox cocked its small head at him curiously. “But first,” he said, “I better finish climbing this tree.”

He stood up on the branch, holding onto the trunk of the tree to maintain his balance. He glanced upwards and a small hollow a foot above his head. He reached up, fingers curling into the hole. “Sorry to any woodland creatures whose home I just trespassed,” he mumbled as he found the next branch.

Cad moved slowly but steadily up the tall tree. As he neared the halfway point, he got his first glimpse of his surrounding area. While he didn’t have a clear view, it certainly seemed he was surrounded by trees as far as the eye could see. He sighed, but kept moving up, resolved that he wouldn’t lose hope quite yet.

As he climbed, he began to notice it felt easier than it should have. His fingers felt guided to the correct hand-holds. He moved with a grace he wasn’t aware he had, and it didn’t seem like the climb was tiring out his body the way it should. As he was contemplating, a message flashed across his vision.

New Skill Gained: Climbing (Utility, C): You have returned to your evolutionary roots and have learned to climb up vertical objects.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

He let out a yelp in surprise and let go of the branch he was holding. He started slipping down the trunk. Frantically, he tried to push his feet into a small divot in the tree to regain traction, but it only served to push his upper body even further from safety. His arms swung in rapid circles in a last-ditch effort to prevent a thirty-foot tumble.

In slow-motion, Cad lost any contact with the tree and started to fall, however, right before he started picking up speed, a strange, almost fluid substance wrapped itself around his stomach. It stung his skin, but it stopped his downward acceleration. He hung there for a moment, suspended in midair, before he started to rise back up. He glanced at his torso and saw that a thick, bright blue rope was lifting him.

As he watched, the rope started losing some of its glow. It grew darker and more transparent with each passing breath. That can’t be good. He anxiously looked around for a sturdy branch and saw one a few feet above him and about halfway around the thick trunk. He stretched his arm out, hoping to grab hold, but he came up just short.

The rope was losing more tangibility, and he knew he had to get to some semblance of safety. He reached with all his strength, almost dislocating his shoulder, but it wasn’t enough. I need to get to that branch!

As if the rope heard his mental plea, it used its last few moments in reality to inch him closer until his hand finally grasped his salvation. As if on cue, the life-saving rope faded away and he was left hanging off the branch by one hand, his heart still racing.

He shakingly pulled himself up. He was lucky and the branch connected to another at the trunk, so he had a wider area to sit and recuperate. Just as his heart rate started to fall, he heard a creature breathing above him and nearly jumped right out of the tree again.

He jerked his head upwards, preparing for the worst, but sighed in relief when he saw it was just his little fox. It seemed to be panting heavily. “What are you all worked up about, I’m the one that almost died!” he said to the creature. It let out a small whine and climbed across the trunk to him, reminding him once again how nice it would be to have claws.

The fox settled down by his legs, curling its head around to its tail, and closed its eyes. Cad absentmindedly started petting the animal’s thick fur, finally calming down after his fall. Stupid message popping up at the worst time. Is there any way I can prevent that?

As if in response to his question, another message flashed across his vision. Luckily, this time he was sitting down and not in a position to accidentally fling himself off of a tree.

Do you wish to hide messages until you’ve found safety? Y/N?

Cadmus wished whatever was causing these messages had asked this question before he was almost killed by one of the strange notifications. He also didn’t love the implication that he would often be in situations where he had to “find safety,” but in the end, he decided to say ‘Yes.’ The chances of something similar to his fall happening again were just too high to ignore.

That done, Cad decided to rest in the branch for a little while. His hands were shaking and he was no longer sure if he wanted to climb any higher. Every time he glanced down, he was reminded of the terrifying distance he almost fell.

He did have to admit, though, that the view from nearly forty feet in the air in this new world was beautiful. The leaves were much thinner at the tops of the trees, and he could see the two Suns clearly. They were still close to each other in the sky but were much lower now. He was unsure exactly how much time had passed, but evening seemed to be approaching in this new world.

He thought he could make out mountains stretching into the sky far in the distance. Using Earth’s cardinal directions, they would be to the west of him based on the setting sun. At least this world isn’t just one massive forest, he thought to himself. He hoped there was some intelligent life here. The rabbit from before seemed similar to the ones back home, and even if his little fox was a bit different from normal, it also seemed like a creature that could exist on Earth, minus the strange abilities.

He looked down at the black and silver creature under his hand. Still not wanting to climb any further, either up or down, Cad decided to come up with a name for his familiar. He realized he didn’t even know the gender of the fox cub. He was going to rectify that, but the moment he reached down to lift the creature up, it started growling. He leaned back and returned to petting the cub, who swiftly went back to sleep.

Guess I’m working without information! He started trying to come up with a name. He ran through many names in his head, but none quite fit. ‘Hunter’ was too aggressive for the small creature but ‘Pepper’ was a bit too domesticated. Finally, he thought of one that seemed to fit. “Scout,” he said aloud.

The cub opened its eyes and turned towards him before letting out a small yip. The little guy seemed to like its new name. “Scout it is,” Cad concluded. The newly christened Scout closed its eyes once again.

Cad looked out across the treetops. The Suns were rapidly approaching the horizon and he would need to find a place to sleep soon. He didn’t think it would be a great plan to try climbing down the tree once night had come, so he needed to either find a place to sleep in the tree or return to the ground.

He needed a plan for the future, a direction to move towards, but that could wait. For now, he had to survive. He knew he would only last maybe one more day without a source of freshwater and it wouldn’t be too long after that until he started weakening from malnutrition. He had been so caught up in the insanity and danger of his first moments in this world to notice his growing hunger and thirst.

Although he knew he would have to climb back down eventually, Cad dreaded the thought of facing any more of those foxes, not to mention any other creatures that existed here. A single fox cub had him on the ground, arms scratched up and nearly drained of mana.

With that in mind, he decided to check if there was any spot in the tree that was safe enough to sleep. He didn’t love the thought of napping forty feet in the air, but it was better than waking up with a claw in the throat.

Cad looked up and thought he saw a spot where the massive tree split into two trunks. If he was lucky, the spot between the two splitting sections could be flat enough to sleep, albeit not comfortably. He glanced at the Suns and saw that his time to act was dwindling, so he shook Scout awake and began to climb once again.