After finishing the meal, Lucius began clearing the table. There was no sink or basin to wash the dishes like Joey was used to. Instead, Lucius stacked the clay bowls and wooden utensils neatly to the side of the table. He wiped down the surface with a rag that had seen better days, shaking it out onto the dirt floor. Joey noticed he didn’t wash anything, probably saving that task for daylight when it would be easier to haul water from wherever he got it.
Joey pushed himself up from the table, his leg still aching but not as intensely as before. Lucius noticed immediately and stepped toward him, his hand outstretched. "Hold on, let me help you," Lucius said quickly.
Joey waved him off with a faint smile. "It’s fine, I need to get used to it even with the injury."
He rose fully, his movements still stiff but noticeably more fluid than earlier. The pain lingered, but it was duller now, less sharp. Lucius gave him a brief look of surprise, his brow furrowing slightly, but he didn’t say anything and went back to what he was doing.
As Joey stood, something occurred to him. He looked toward Lucius and asked, "Where am I supposed to sleep?"
Lucius paused, turning toward Joey with a thoughtful expression. "Oh, right. Let me show you," he said.
He set down what he was holding and gestured for Joey to follow. They moved through the small house, Lucius leading him to a room Joey hadn’t yet seen. Lucius pushed open a simple wooden door, revealing a small space.
"This is where I store a few things," Lucius explained, his voice casual. "It’s sort of a storage room, but don’t worry, there’s a bed in here too, and a bucket if you need it," he added with a grin.
Joey smirked at the joke but couldn’t help his curiosity. "Why do you have a second bed in here?" he asked.
Lucius hesitated for a moment, then replied simply, "It used to be a bedroom."
Joey caught a slight shift in Lucius’ tone. His expression was neutral, but there was something else beneath it, something subdued. A faint shadow passed over his face, as though the words carried more weight than he wanted to show. Joey couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he felt a quiet sadness lingering in the air. It wasn’t in Lucius’ words, but in the way he said them, as if the memory still hung in the room with them.
"I’ve been living alone for a few years now," Lucius said, his tone calm, but there was a weight to his words that Joey couldn’t ignore. It sounded straightforward enough, but something about the way he said it felt heavier, as if there was more to the story that he wasn’t ready to share.
"Get some rest," Lucius said, placing the wax candle he had brought on the small table beside the bed. The soft glow flickered faintly, casting gentle shadows across the walls. "If you need anything, just call out. The sooner you’re back on your feet, the sooner you can help me."
"I’ll do my best," Joey replied, his voice tired but sincere.
Lucius gave a quick nod and stepped out of the room, pulling the wooden door closed behind him with a soft creak.
Joey lowered himself onto the bed, feeling the rough but surprisingly sturdy frame beneath him. The weak flame of the wax candle cast a dim, flickering light across the space, making the small room feel even more enclosed. He wasn’t sure if "dimming" was the right word, but it was the only way he could describe the way the light seemed to settle over everything, soft and muted.
He glanced around the room, taking in his surroundings.
He glanced around the room, his eyes adjusting to the flickering glow of the candle. The walls were bare stone, cold and uneven, but functional. In one corner, a small wooden rack held an assortment of tools, things Joey didn’t recognize immediately, but he could guess they were for hunting or general repairs. Simple iron blades, hooks, and a few wooden handles stuck out at odd angles, each one well-worn and stained from years of use.
Near the rack stood a longbow, its string taut and carefully maintained, alongside a small quiver filled with arrows. Joey’s gaze then settled on something that surprised him, a crossbow, plain but clearly functional. Its wooden stock was rough, the iron mechanisms faintly reflecting the dim candlelight. He remembered hearing that such weapons had existed in ancient times, though it still felt strange to see one here. It seemed practical and efficient, a reflection of Lucius himself.
On the opposite side of the room, a sturdy table sat against the wall, cluttered with various objects. A bundle of dried herbs lay neatly tied with string, next to a whetstone that showed signs of frequent use, and a coiled rope rested beside scraps of leather that had been cut but not yet fashioned into anything. Above the table hung a single sword, its hilt simple but sturdy. The blade wasn’t decorative, instead bearing the faint scars of battles or hunts, its edge slightly nicked yet still sharp enough to serve its purpose.
Joey’s attention was drawn to a modest bookshelf tucked into another corner, a surprising addition in such a utilitarian space. The books were few, their spines cracked and faded with age. Some had leather covers that looked hand-stitched, while others were little more than bound stacks of parchment. He could imagine Lucius reading these by candlelight, perhaps studying maps or learning techniques for hunting and survival. It was a strange contrast, the ruggedness of the room mixed with the quiet intellect implied by these texts.
A few scrolls sat neatly rolled and tied with thin cords, possibly maps, records, or written instructions. Joey’s gaze lingered on a small wooden carving of a stag that rested atop the shelf. The figurine was finely detailed, the antlers carved with care and precision. It seemed out of place, almost sentimental, and Joey wondered if it held any personal significance to Lucius.
The floor near the bed was covered with a pile of furs, stacked in a way that suggested they were used for extra warmth. The faint smell of leather and dried wood filled the air, giving the space an earthy, grounded feeling. Next to the furs was a small clay jug, likely for water, and a wooden bowl that seemed to have been left there as part of the room’s original use.
Everywhere Joey looked, he found signs of a life that was practical, focused on survival, and deeply connected to the wilderness. The tools, weapons, and even the books each had a purpose, nothing wasted or purely for decoration. Yet, despite its functionality, the room didn’t feel cold or lifeless. The flicker of the candlelight softened the harsh edges, and for a brief moment, Joey felt a sense of comfort. It wasn’t home, but it was safe, and for now, that was enough.
Joey lay back on the simple bed, the rough fabric of the blanket scratching faintly against his skin. The flickering light of the candle beside him softened the sharp edges of the room, making it feel almost surreal. His mind began to wander, replaying the events of the last few days.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
The alleyway, the strange language, the pain in his leg, Lucius. Everything felt like a strange fever dream, yet it was all too vivid to dismiss as imagination. He sighed, his eyes fluttering closed, his thoughts blurring into a haze as exhaustion overtook him.
Slowly, Joey drifted off.
When his eyes opened again, he wasn’t in the small, rustic room. He was standing in the Void. The same endless nothingness as before, but this time, it felt emptier. The faint, oppressive sense of presence he had felt during his first visit was gone. No silhouette, no voice, just silence.
Joey spun in place, his breath quickening as he searched for something, anything to ground himself. But there was nothing. The pure absence of light or shadow made it impossible to orient himself. Every direction looked the same. Up, down, left, right—it all blurred together into a single, infinite void.
“What the hell?” he whispered, his voice echoing faintly before the sound disappeared into the nothingness.
He turned again, his movements growing frantic, when suddenly, a faint "ding" echoed behind him. The noise was startling in the oppressive silence, crisp and clear, almost mechanical. Joey froze, his heart pounding, before slowly turning around.
In front of him, floating in the air, was… something. It wasn’t a person, or an object he could describe easily. It resembled a glowing, translucent interface, like something ripped straight out of a video game. The text and symbols floated in mid-air, softly pulsing with an unnatural light.
Joey blinked, his confusion deepening. “What the…?”
The interface shimmered faintly, as if responding to his presence. Lines of text began to appear, written in a language he couldn’t quite place, yet somehow, he understood every word.
Name: Joey Weave
Age: 20
Path: Wanderer
Unique Thread: "Knowledge Beyond Time"
Attributes:
Perception: Awakened
Adaptation: In Progress
Physical Resilience: Enhanced
Connections:
The Hunter (Lucius): Stable
The Unknown (Void): Undefined
Joey blinked, his eyes adjusting to the faint glow of the floating interface in front of him. The words shimmered softly, casting a dim light in the darkness around him. His breath hitched, his mind racing to comprehend what he was seeing.
"This... looks like an interface from all those games," he muttered, his voice echoing slightly in the emptiness. His gaze traveled slowly across the lines, taking in the surreal information.
Name: Joey Weave
His name hovered at the top clear and simple. He’d seen it so many times before yet something about seeing it here felt different almost unfamiliar.
Age: 20
That was accurate. At least one thing made sense.
Path: Wanderer
He frowned. A wanderer? It sounded like some kind of role or title, but the more he thought about it, the more it felt right. He was lost in this world, moving without direction or purpose.
Unique Thread: "Knowledge Beyond Time"
His breath caught. "Knowledge beyond time?" he whispered. The phrase felt heavy, laden with meaning that he couldn’t yet grasp. It felt as if the interface knew something about him that he didn’t.
His focus shifted to the Attributes:
Perception: Awakened
"Awakened? What does that even mean?" he murmured, but deep down, he felt that it wasn’t just about being awake. It was something more, something deeper.
Adaptation: In Progress
"Okay, this one makes sense," Joey said, almost to himself. He thought about how his body had adjusted, even in pain. The steps he’d taken earlier, the way he’d started to move faster—it all aligned.
Physical Resilience: Enhanced
His eyes widened. "Enhanced? No wonder I’m still alive after everything," he muttered, recalling the fall, the injuries, and how quickly he’d managed to stand again.
At last, he reached to Connections
The Hunter (Lucius): Stable
A small smile tugged at his lips. Lucius. He’d saved him, taken him in, and treated him like a human when he could’ve left him to die. It made sense that this bond felt strong.
The Unknown (Void): Undefined
Joey’s face darkened. "The Void… That place," he murmured. His stomach turned at the memory of the silhouette that had spoken to him.
The interface flickered briefly, like a candle in the wind, then began to fade. Joey’s heart skipped a beat. "Wait, no!" he called out, reaching toward it, but the light disappeared in a soft glow, leaving him alone in the silence.
Joey jolted awake, his breath quick and shallow. He lay still for a moment, his mind racing. Outside, daylight had already crept into the room, illuminating its modest interior. Birds chirped energetically in the distance, their songs breaking the quiet. The candle beside him was long extinguished, its wax pooled at the base.
"What the hell was that just now?" Joey muttered to himself, his voice still groggy.
His thoughts were interrupted by the steady sound of something being struck outside. He sat up on the edge of the bed and glanced out the window.
Through the small, dusty pane, he could see Lucius in the clearing, chopping wood. Each swing of the axe was deliberate, the logs splitting cleanly under the impact.
"Well, he’s certainly hardworking," Joey remarked, his voice tinged with surprise.
The thought struck him, could he already be of any use to Lucius? He pulled up his pant leg to examine the wound on his leg. The gash that had once throbbed with pain now looked far better, the edges clean and showing signs of remarkable healing.
"Strange. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore. There’s still some soreness, but nothing too bothersome," he said to himself. "probably because of the new Attribute i have. With this it could be normal for wounds to heal faster." His tone carried a mix of curiosity and wonder.
He got to his feet, stretching his arms wide and loosening the stiffness in his muscles. His eyes roamed the room, taking in the details he hadn’t fully appreciated before.
The small space felt practical but lived-in. A rough wooden table in the corner held scattered tools and a few books with worn covers. The shelves along one wall were lined with random things: spools of thread, small jars, and what looked like animal pelts neatly folded. A modest bow hung above the door frame, its string taut and ready for use. The bed he had just risen from was plain but sturdy, joey folded the blankets with care.
Joey took a moment to smooth out the blanket and fluff the pillow. "I should head out to Lucius. Maybe I can help him with something," he said to himself, straightening up.
With that, he walked out of the room, ready to see if he could of any help to Lucius.
In the kitchen, Joey noticed everything had been cleaned and tidied. On the dining table, however, there was a plate of leftovers from last night’s meal. Next to it sat an empty plate, faint scraps hinting it once held the same dish.
He sat down and began eating, his stomach growling in anticipation. "Normally, I’d be watching YouTube or something," he said quietly to himself, almost amused by the thought.
As he ate, his gaze drifted to the window. Outside, Lucius was still chopping wood. Each swing of the axe came down with incredible force, splitting the logs cleanly. The sheer power behind every movement was impressive, the wood splitting effortlessly under the weight of each strike.
The logs weren’t small either. These were hefty chunks of timber, the kind most people wouldn’t handle so easily, let alone split in a single swing. Joey couldn’t help but watch in fascination as Lucius continued with relentless precision, his movements steady and unyielding.
"Why is this guy still single? If he’s single, then honestly, there’s no hope for anyone else," Joey said to himself with a small laugh.
The humor faded slightly as Joey kept watching. He really did wonder why Lucius lived out here completely alone. Sure, it made sense,
he loved the wilderness, the hunt, and the solitude. But with how capable, hardworking, and, frankly, physically imposing he was, it was surprising no one had claimed him, or that he hadn’t found someone to share his life with.
Joey shook his head with a smile as he finished his meal. "Maybe I’ll ask him one day," he thought to himself before standing up and going outside to greet Lucius.