Chapter 1
Motes of light lazily swam before his eyes as he slowly woke up. He blinked groggily. He wasn’t a morning person. Rooms bathed in golden light of the morning sun greeted him as he went to get up. A door slid open. He focused on the door and wandered why it opened, but not for long. He noticed he hadn’t actually moved, but he felt himself move, weird. He jumped off the bed, trying to wake himself up. The door swung itself into a wall. Again, he felt himself move, only he hit something this time.
His hazy mind, finally clambered out of its morning muddiness, started paying attention. He felt like falling on his behind. He felt himself move again as the door slowly closed itself. The reason for his slight nausea was, that he could still see what was behind the closed door anyway. It was a small living room.
Why can I see what’s… He thought before he realized he could see more than just the living room. He saw three rooms in total. A kitchen connected to the living room and a bedroom.
What’s going on?
He tried to move, he felt himself move, but all that happened was a door swinging itself, again, plus some cabinets banging themselves open in the kitchen.
Wait, am I moving those?
He moved a bit and a cabinet closed itself to a crack. I am. Weird, how I am doing it? He moved a different part and the door to the bedroom closed. Apparently by moving around. He slowly closed all the cabinets, after several attempts. What’s going on? Did I turn into a house? He added jokingly.
Wait, I didn’t, did I? No, no, no, no. This doesn’t make sense, what happened? He tried to remember but all he had was a memory of going to sleep the previous night. Something clicked inside his mind and he had an epiphany. Reincarnation? Aren’t you supposed to turn into, oh I don’t know, something that’s actually alive? Why a house? He was starting to get irritated and panic. And the itch, that was starting to make itself known, wasn’t helping.
What is this? How can a house be itchy? Oh my god, don’t tell me I have termites or something! It’s my first day, give me a break. He tried to feel where the itch was coming from, but neither the walls, cabinets, floor, ceiling or table felt itchy. It felt like it was coming from deeper inside, and then it hit him. It was coming from his mind. He focused on the itch, instead of trying to bear it, and a screen appeared.
Name:
Race: Living House
Subrace: Wooden Cottage
Level: 1 (0%)
Skills: Self-Maintenance, Self-repair, Food Creation
Health: 1000/1000 (5/hour)
Mana: 10/10 (1/hour)
Traits: Construct
Titles:
I did turn into a house. Darn.
My name is blank, huh. He went through his memory, but he couldn’t recall what it was supposed to be. New life new me, I guess. Let’s see what I got.
Race: Living House
A structure which absorbed enough magic to turn sentient.
Cool, cool, doesn’t tell me much.
Subrace: Wooden Cottage
A cosy wooden cottage that gained sentience through magic
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Still nothing.
Racial skill: Self-maintenance
Allows the user to do house-related tasks
Cost: 1 mana per hour
What is considered a house-related task? He wondered before checking another part.
Racial skill: Self-repair
Damaged parts automatically regenerate
Passive
Would they regenerate without it, just slower, or would I be stuck with the damage? That would be worrying.
Racial skill: Food creation
Allows the user to create raw food ingredients.
Cost: Based on items created
Seems useful to have, nobody lives inside me though. That felt really weird to say. Would somebody really live here?
He looked over the rooms. A kitchen with a stove, some cabinets and a wooden table with three chairs. A living room with a stone hearth, an armchair with small table besides it and a wardrobe in the corner. And a bedroom with a bed for two with white linens and a closet in front of it. There was a door he couldn’t see behind and he guessed it led outside. After a bit of fiddling around with doors and cabinets he opened the correct one.
His viewpoint changed and he saw a small L-shaped cottage standing inside a circle of grass. He sight didn’t reach past the edge. There was a half of a tree sticking from the outside, which made him laugh as it reminded him of bad graphics in some games.
He glanced at the cottage. I really became a house.
He looked around some more and started wondering how to get back inside. He closed the main door and his view switched back. He remembered what he was doing before and began looking through the menu again.
Trait: Construct
Holder is immune to mundane negative effects.
Holder is immune to mind afflictions.
Holder doesn’t require sustenance or rest.
Really hammers home that I am not a human anymore. Never thought losing my humanity would only make me slightly sad. Well, can’t do anything about it, at least the trait is nice.
He dismissed the status window, done with examining it, and thought about what to do. There really wasn’t much except trying out his skills.
He spent few days by experimenting, he created meat and fruit, he looked through the cabinets and closets, he floated pillows around, he cut stuff, even himself, with knives from the cabinets, he tried cooking, he lit a fire in the hearth and under the stove, caused a small fire, extinguished it and cleaned everything afterwards.
He had fun trying things out, and except the fire accident, nothing bad came out of it. He even gained a level, which gave him mere 10 bonus hp and 1 point in mana. He was a bit disappointed with the poor gain but consoled himself that he was just level 2. Now, however, he was out of ideas what to do, his level refused to rise, and he was starting to get bored.
Pondering what to do, he noticed a weird feeling. It was like something was missing, an unoccupied space that wasn’t meant to be empty. And once he noticed, it stuck, and he couldn’t let it go.
What is it? What am I missing? Something from before I became a house? He asked himself. Games? I went without them for more than a couple months once. Moving around? Moving doors feels like moving. Family?
He paused. How had he not thought of his family before? He berated himself. Thinking of his family made him feel warm, but when he tried to remember how they looked or moments from their life he couldn’t recall anything. He knew they loved him, and he loved them back, but he couldn’t remember them at all. He was sad he lost the memory of them but was happy he at least remembered how they made him feel, it pushed the hollow feeling away.
Something pinged inside his head and he could feel his mind put two and two together. Families live in houses. I am a house; nobody lives inside me. Therefore, I need somebody to live here to not feel like this. Easy.
He was sure he was right, but he had no clue how to get a family. He looked like a cottage that would fit right on the side of a mountain forest and families weren’t exactly looking for homes in the freaking mountains.