The grass was rich shades of blue and purple. Soft arches of grassy ground that seemed alive. Beautiful and vibrant, the valleys were ethereal. The type of haunting eternalness that made travelers want to stop and sit down. But these valleys had never known a traveler. People did not visit these parts.

It was there the cart rested, among the foothills. Content to listen to the gentle breeze, and the rhythm in which the rain pattered onto the ground. The cart was waiting for its master. It had been abandoned many years ago. Left to the elements, the cart had grown weathered, its aged oak groaning as it swayed in time with the blades of grass.

It still perked up whenever there was a shadow in the distance, but the figures were always shadows, tricks of the light. And the cart’s master never did come. Its only company the gentle slopes of valleys, and hills. The rainfall grew heavy, so the cart waited.

The boy took pained breaths. He was wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead with his hand, the other hung limply at his side. Blood was seeping through the t-shirt the boy had wrapped around the arm.  The cart perked up, it could see the boy. A real boy! The cart had never seen a real human passing through these parts. It waited there. The boy had not noticed it yet.

Rain was pouring from the heavens, beating down onto the lithe figure in the distance. The boy’s feet caught on the grass. Sending him sprawling into a puddle. He groaned through a mouth of dirt, then spat onto the grass beside him. The boy had long since lost his bearings.

He was trudging aimlessly through the placid landscape. The cart waited for the boy to see it. The cuffs of the boy’s jeans were crusted with dried blood, and his t-shirt was slightly singed. The cart struggled to move when he realized the boy was walking in the wrong direction. It cried out.

Weeds had intertwined with its wheels, essentially rooting the cart to the land. The cart had not moved in so long that it was now part of the vast foothills and valleys. It strained. The boy was getting farther away! It had not felt such a lure – such a pull – towards anyone since it had met its master. Something about the boy felt special, familiar.

The cart gave one last tug. A last effort of desperation. And the weeds gave way. The boy was becoming a faint figure in the distance.

The boy sighed and dug a hand inside his pocket. Inside, was a crumpled piece of paper that read: La campella. It was a sheet of music. The notes were now bleary, obscure under the onslaught of rain. It was the only thing he had when he was transported here. He didn’t know what here was exactly.

“I sat down at my piano, and then…” The boy said to no one in particular. He had to look at this logically. A brief summary of the events previous ran in his head.

He had been sitting down on the piano stool. And then he was sitting in a field. Creatures that looked like…cats? No, they were much bigger. Much, much bigger. With large green eyes and…spikes?

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 “OW!”

A sharp pain rose up the boy’s spine and he let out a few cries of pain. He turned around, wanting to fight his assailant head on. Actually, he wasn’t sure he could actually fight. He hadn’t been able to fight off the cat things, earlier. But the boy didn’t encounter any dragons or wicked witches. No, there was only a cart.

“Oh, hi”

The boy felt stupid, or mad, or a bit of both. Why was he talking to a cart? It gave a happy ping and the boy jumped back. In all Korrin Thorne’s years on earth he had never heard a cart ping. But this wasn’t earth was it? Or at least not the one Korrin knew.

The cart was beautiful in an aged and worn way. A way that said the cart had been abandoned, but it was still here. It was still a symbol of surviving, and beauty after pain. Or maybe it was just a cart that had found Korrin at the right time. He did not know, but he still loved admiring the love and talent that must have gone into such a cart.

It probably didn’t actually ping, right? It was just a trick on Korrin’s mind. But the onslaught of rain was growing unbearable and he decided to board the cart. The steps gave a small creek as he ascended. The space inside the cart was narrow, but it was still shelter. A better shelter than he could have hoped for moments before. There was an unlit lantern resting on the sill.

Korrin pulled the drapes closed. Faint beams of moonlight creeping through the small sliver of a gap. It was already night. It still felt like moments ago he had sat down for a morning piano session.

“I don’t know how you got here, but I sure as hell am glad you did”

The cart was happy. It had found the boy. It had a new master to love.

Korrin looked around the small space. Running a hand through his brown hair he smiled. The cart didn’t look too bad. Something about it seemed…alive. The cart was brimming with a restless type of whimsy. Korrin shifted.

“You know, on the outside you look like you haven’t been used in a long time. How long have you…um, been here?”

Great, now he was asking the cart questions.

The cart did not know how long it had been there, a part of the grassy landscape. Life had been an endless cycle of passing seasons for the cart. It had seen days were the cold bit, a formidable swirl of unforgiving chill; days where the heat seemed to settle into the hills and valleys, leaving the cart stiff in sweltering tranquillity.

Korrin peered out the curtains. A purple moon was settling into the sky. Stars were scattered upon the heavens, occasionally breaking up a blanket of rich blue and purple that his human eyes could never hope to do justice. He noticed a subtle hum outside. The night was peaceful, now missing the steady fall of rain.

“The sky’s pretty tonight”

He turned back inside. He had to light that lantern. Korrin fumbled around a cabinet. He could not see inside but his fingers brushed something that felt matchbox like. He grinned.

“Success”

He brought the match box to the sill. Sparks of amber ricocheted of the match box as he struck a match against the side. The match omitted a warm glow, warming Korrin’s fingers. He lit the lantern and it cast soft light around the small room. Korrin yawned.

The space was cramped but it was good enough. Korrin lay down on the floor of the cart, the t-shirt wrapped around his arm was now entirely soaked with blood, but he didn’t care. He ran his good hand down the make shift bandage and winced. Korrin closed his eyes, content to sleep through the pain.

System: +200 XP

System: Level 1 resourcefulness

System: Skill set acquired

The boy did not hear the words. He was long asleep, but stats and bars appeared over his head.