A vibrant violet portal opened in a seemingly quiet forest glade; a hooded figure stepped through and dropped a limp body. A small pocket of space opened next to him; the hooded man plucked a worn leather satchel and knife from within. He dropped the objects by the discarded body and vanished through the portal, which snapped shut with a flash. The meadow, which had fallen silent, came alive with bird song and the chitters of small woodland creatures.

John awoke to a painful breeze running over the skin of his forehead.

“Aghh.” He groaned, lifting a hand and massaging his temples as dull spikes of pain lanced through his brain. He cracked his eyes as he realized he was touching himself. He saw the pale skin dotted with freckles he had before death.

It’s weird, lying here clearly alive and thinking back to my own death. Man, there was blood everywhere. Everything has moved so quickly since then; how will Mom and Molly take the news? Dad will likely lock himself in his shop and break things for an hour or so, then he will go and be strong for them. Also, what did that giant freak do to my head? It still aches like hell. And then there is the whole part about magic being real. It’s something I can't really wrap my head around.

John organized his thoughts slowly taking the time to work through his emotions. Several times he had to hold back tears as he thought about his family. He sighed sitting up from where he had been lying; John smiled as he rubbed at his arms and felt his hair.

“I’ll get through this and maybe someday ill see them again. Wait,” he said, eyes widening into saucers as he patted his chest and bare thighs. “Why… am I naked?”

He shot to his feet, looking around frantically for something to cover himself with. Spinning in a quick circle, he tripped over a leather pouch. Catching himself, he grabbed the bag and began to rifle through it.

“Paper, no. Bread, no. Compass, no. Yes!” He exclaimed as he ripped out a pair of shoddy fibrous pants and a matching shirt.

“Not exactly my style, but it’ll do in a pinch.”

He stepped into the brown pants and pulled the white-ish shirt with a deep v at the neck over his head.

“So, a new world, huh, a place with magic, mystery, and classes.” He chuckled. I’m still just plain old John. I wonder when the endless pain bit is going to start.”

He looked around at the verdant grassy hill that he stood on; towering pine trees surrounded it. A cool breeze rolled across the glade infrequently, causing the trees to sway and carrying the noises of a forest brimming with life. He looked down at the satchel and the discarded items.

Those guys were dicks, but at least they left me some things.

He thought as he stuffed the cloth-wrapped loaf of bread and compass back into the satchel. Grabbing the stiff parchment, he read it aloud to himself.

“John, In his bag, I have left you a few things, use the compass and go west from here. Mid-way through the Everdale you will come upon a rather wide dirt path. Follow the path to the north; you will find a small village. I disagree with this punishment, it is my job to escort the dead to the afterlife, but I cannot defy him. My advice, live the simplest life you can, and under no circumstances should you try to obtain The System. Signed; Regards The Courier.”

John reread the letter and sighed. “Maybe I misjudged him.”

Taking out the compass, he oriented himself to the west, slung the bag over his shoulder, and began to walk down the hill. The massive trees loomed overhead as he neared the treeline; a gloom hung under the canopies of the trees. Visible rays of light illuminated bright red mushroom caps, a range of strange flowers, and herb-like plants. However, what caused John to pause was the blanket of pinecones that littered the forest floor. He looked down at his bare feet, eyes narrowing.

“I take it back; you’re still an asshole.”

John grimaced; he stepped into the forest and slowly picked his way between the landmines. Occasionally John would admire his surroundings as he wove his way westward through the woods

There are so many unfamiliar things here.

He thought as he observed several strange glowing stalks of reeds that sprouted from a tree that sat in a particularly shady spot. Few creatures made themselves known, but signs of their passing were evident all around him. One muddy track froze John in place as he followed the footprints with his eyes deeper south into the forest. The print was deep with five holes towards the front that John assumed to be nails or claws. With a shudder, he pulled the compass from the top of the satchel and angled himself north by northwest. Thinking of creating distance from the possible predator, his pace increased to a brisk jog. At the increased speed he was traveling, the pinecones were, at times, unavoidable; they crunched underfoot digging into Johns's feet. Feet bloody, John choked back a muffled cry as another pinecone tore into the sole of his foot.

He began to look back over his shoulder more frequently, unable to shake the feeling that he was being pursued. Searching the shadows for movement and other signs of life, John jumped at a sudden rustling sound behind him and turned on his heel. A rabbit, a giant brown rabbit with its fur still bristling from its fright, huddled in the nearby underbrush. Its ears laid flat against its skull as it stared at John with its black button eyes. John looked back blankly until a streak of black silently hammered into the rabbit. John fell backward in surprise, his hands loudly crushing several of the traitorous cones as he landed heavily. He met a pair of bright yellow eyes that looked up sharply from the already mangled rabbit carcass. The yellow-eyed beast, a vast six-legged panther, curled back its lips revealing sharp blood-soaked teeth, and let out a low hiss. With each breath, the beast took, nine rows of strange cartilage where ribs should be opened and closed. The edges of the particular organs seemed to flutter and vibrate on each exhalation. The vibrations created a low whining that mimicked a small animal in distress.

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“Shit,” John whispered, his hand closing around one of the crushed pine cones. He stared at the beast in wonder and fear; it took a slow, ponderous step forward, hissing louder. John, in turn, slowly pushed his legs under himself, inching backward and staying as small as he could. The beast lunged forward, yowling and slapping the dirt with all four of its front paws. It’s extended claws tore furrows into the soft earth scattering small rocks and pinecones. The startling motion caused John to stand quickly, pine cone in hand. The panther crouched low, muscles visibly coiling under taught skin, and launched itself at John.

John reacted with panicked reflexes throwing the cone he had held at the panther as hard as he could. The spiked weapon struck the panther just above the right eye; the beast recoiled at the foreign object, and John dove to the side. Scrambling upward, eyes wide with fear, he searched for an escape; a tree with low-hanging branches stood only fifteen or sixteen paces away. He threw his head down and madly dashed for the tree, heart beating wildly in his chest. John looked up just in time; he lept at the tree and planted a bloody foot against the bark. Pushing off with arms extended, he reached for the thick branch that would be his sanctuary. His arms wrapped tightly around the limb. The momentum of his jump carried John’s legs backward straight into the panther's claws. Sharp hooked claws sank into both sides of his leg. As gravity carried the beast downwards the claws shredded both John’s lower leg and the pants covering it. Deep rivulets of blood formed, and John gasped as he felt his flesh torn away. The weight of the beast pulling at him caused his arms to slip, and he savagely held to the branch with just his fingertips. John’s head spun with the pain of the deep gashes. He could feel the warmth of his blood coating his savaged limb. Eyes clenched shut; he desperately kicked out with his good leg wrapping it up over the Branch and hoisting himself up, screaming with effort.

He lay there heaving ragged breaths and looking down at the panther circling the tree. The creature stared back up at him, yellow eyes burning in the shadows. The beast suddenly turned tail and ran back into the forest, only stopping to gather the dead rabbit. John remained clinging to the limb for several moments longer, then crawled along the branch and leaned back against the trunk, dreading what he had to do next. He tore the shredded sections of his pants away and looked over his leg. Three deep gashes ran from the top of his calf down to where the rounded bone of his ankle was visible. He opened his mouth and shook with a wail.

Is this it? He thought. Is this where the endless pain begins? Why me? What did I do to deserve this? I shouldn’t have mouthed off to that god. I should have just done what he said. I don't want this suffering, I'm not strong enough for this.

A thump in his chest tore him away from his thoughts. His brows furrowed as he looked at the wounds pulsing hot crimson. “No,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Fuck that overgrown space pussy.”

He wrapped the torn pieces of cloth around his leg and wrenched them into knots tightly; pained growls accompanied each knot in the fabric. He sat with blood slowly dripping from his toes as the emerald light filtering down from the trees began to fade. The sounds of day were slowly replaced by the roars of nocturnal monsters and the howls of beasts as John stared down into the forest. Refusing to give in to his exhaustion he sat shivering and clinging to consciousness. The constant slow “Pat, pat, pat,” from his blood-soaked bandages dripping below kept him focused. He counted each drop hitting the growing puddle.

“Five hundred forty-two, five hundred forty-three, don't fall asleep. Sleep equals death, five hundred forty-four, five hundred forty-five. I need to stay a… five hundred…”. John's voice drifted to silence as he fell asleep slumped against the tree.

…

John awoke abruptly, lying in the back of a rickety wooden cart; he looked up at a brilliant blue sky. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his leg caused him to groan. The cart abruptly stopped, and a face appeared over the side rail. A woman with dirty blonde hair tied back in a tight ponytail smiled down at him. Her green eyes sparkled, and her pale face contrasted the dark background of the forest beautifully. Softly pointed ears stuck out from the loose strands of her hair.

.“You’re awake, good; I’ve been worried about you. Here, drink this.” She said, shoving a brown leather water skin into his face. John reached out, hungrily grabbing for the skin.

“Ah, ah, slowly, stranger.” She said, placing the water in his hand, “I don’t know how long you've been out in the Everdale, but you didn't have any water on you when I found you at the bottom of that tree.”

John drank greedily, water trickling from the corners of his mouth. He coughed at the mention of himself at the bottom of the tree.

“What do you mean the bottom of the tree? I was tucked up on a large branch, hiding from a crazy six-legged panther that attacked me yesterday evening.”

The woman whistled and said, “Sounds like a sleuth panther. It’s probably still following your scent from within the tree line. You’re lucky to be alive; they usually hit you so hard and quietly that unless your party was looking at you, you’d be dead before anyone could help. So, how’d you manage it with no weapons.”

John blushed under the beautiful woman’s scrutiny. “I hit it in the face with a pinecone,” he said sheepishly, rubbing his shoulder. The woman's eyes lit up and she laughed, holding her sides, “You, you attacked one of the most dangerous predators in the Everdale with a pinecone and lived!” She laughed for a moment longer and reached into the cart. John felt firm hands press against his leg and he hissed as the woman prodded and poked at his bandages. “What's your name, stranger?” She asked in a more serious tone.

“Agh, I’m John,” he managed out while he finally pushing himself into a sitting position. His patchwork bandages had been replaced by a clean white wrap that firmly compressed the wound on his calf.

“Nice to meet you, John; I'm Melrayne, but everyone calls me Rayne. We are almost to Valorwood; it's a little village near where I found you. My uncle is a healer; he should be able to fix up your leg and prevent any infection.”

“Thank you for everything,” John said, “I’ll leave myself in your care.” He shut his eyes, enjoying the cool breeze across his face.

Even in my current situation, I can't help but feel excited. There are so many strange things I want to learn about this world. My first day was hell, but now that I’m safe, my heart is racing in anticipation. I can't wait to discover what this world has to offer. Even if the gods and the system have forsaken me, Maybe, just maybe, there is a way to learn magic without the system. Maybe there is a way to grow stronger. I wonder if this world has an adventurer’s guild or a magic society, or perhaps this is a faction-based world.

The cart, pulled by Rayne, clattered down the dirt path. John smiled at his thoughts, clenching his fists.