Bathed in the golden twilight, Evan stood by the rustic wall, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The sun setting felt like the universe's equivalent of a nonchalant shrug, casually dimming the world as if to suggest the day's troubles were not its concern. The way it laid its golden blessing upon the grassy plains surrounding their small farmstead, one might be fooled into thinking they lived in a land of peace, rather than one filled with ancient horrors.
Evan's bowstring twanged, and arrows soared through the air, piercing the dimming light. It was a sight that brought back stories his father had told him, tales of Tomasz's own testing day, where he unlocked his magical skills of [Pyromancy] and [Blacksmithing]. Evan thought it was kind of ironic that his father had an affinity for [Pyromancy], considering how he sometimes acted as if he despised the heat. Life had a way of playing tricks, it seemed, bestowing upon his heat-averse father the one skill that came with its own personal bonfire.
Their simple life was not without its perils. Evan had heard his father's stories of the city guards and the powerful nobles who used their skills to control and intimidate the common folk. It was a world of unequal skills and abuse, where even those who managed to rise to power would often follow the same path of corruption. Tomasz had witnessed too many innocent people suffering under the whims of those in authority, subjected to unjust taxes and cruel punishments for minor offenses.
At the time, Evan's hands had squeezed his small bow tight as he listened to his father recount the time he stood up to a group of guards after witnessing them harassing a young woman. In his foolishness, his father believed his [Pyromancy] could match their skills. Initially, his [Blacksmithing] shattered their armour and swords, giving him a glimpse of victory. That was until they pulled out more. Turns out, they had spares. Lots of spares. His father's underestimation of their numbers proved to be his downfall. He claimed thd guards had seemed to materialize out of thin air, dozens of them descending upon him. Overpowered and outnumbered, his father bore the brunt of their assault, and fought as hard as he could until he was forced to flee through the slums. Evan could see how knowing the routes through the slums like the back of your hand could always be a benefit. He himself had made knowing depths the slums and the forest it a priority. It was useful. Especially for when and if you found yourself running from a horde of angry city guards about to turn you into diced meat- like his father had.
He was sure If not for the intervention of fate and a passing healer, his father might not have survived, and he might never have been born.
The memory of his father shifted, and Evan found himself reliving another tale, this time involving his mother, Elli.
His mother, Elli, had the [Perfect Balance and Movement] skill. In a world where guards could control the elements and dragons could level cities, his mother could... walk in a straight line while drunk. As a child, he hadn't been impressed. Not to belittle her talent, it was impressive, certainly, when she could balance a vase on her head while doing somersaults. He'd thought of it as a strange, utterly unhelpful skill, but impressive all the same. And he continued to think that throughout his childhood until the day he saw his mother kill a boar with a sewing needle. As he relived the memory with a clarity that was far beyond what his mind could produce, he wasn't sure what surprised and impressed him more: the fact that a sewing needle could be lethal or the fact that his mother could throw it hard enough to matter.
She, too, had her share of stories about the nobles and their cruelty. He watched as a past and younger version of his mother poured her heart and soul into creating exquisite designs for a noblewoman's dress. Each intricate detail was crafted with meticulous care, making the dress highly sought after.
Time shifted, and the world spun around him, causing him to stumble in place.
When his eyes refocused, he found his mother presenting her creation- a masterpiece- to her noble clientele.
Evan felt pride swelling up within him, and for a moment he forgot how this story ended.
But the moment passed and he remembered, and watched as the noblewoman decided she didn't like the design and demanded the dress be given to her for free, claiming offence. His mother protested, but the woman's true nature revealed itself as she faded into the shadows and struck his mother Elli from behind, taking advantage of her vulnerability. Evan knew them in that moment that his mother had the skill to best her, and saw that she did not have the skillls to best the knights that entered the room to surround her. His mother had chosen to prioritize their family's safety in that moment.
Evan wasn’t sure if he would have done the same.
The woman had claimed it was "too beautiful to pay for." The nerve. It's like saying, "Your food was so delicious that I shouldn't pay for it." Evan thought. He wished he had the power to make a difference. He seethed with rage and cynicism. The nobles were ridiculous, and their twisted logic was laughable. Make them a masterful dress, and they'd say, "Who knew? Your work is so good it's literally priceless!".
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Well, maybe now that Evan had skills, he would be able to make a difference. His mother's encounter with the noblewoman taught him a valuable lesson - in the world of the noble elite, being 'dressed to kill' was more than a figure of speech. You needed power. Status. The power to truly thrive in this world. And Evan was determined to acquire it.
And then, he'd change everything.
He often marvelled at how easily city nobles mistook rudeness for sophistication, like confusing a donkey's bray for a nightingale's song. If his mother's dresses were considered offensive by nobles, then their definition of 'beautiful' was surely mired in poverty. Their definition of ‘value’ certainly needed a critical review.
The world shifted again. But this time, Evan knew exactly where he was.
When did my skill activate? He wondered. And how? He felt like he was in a daze, and not fully cognisant. But he thought for control as he viewed his surroundings.
He was outside the city walls. Far out and floating in the sky, somehow.
He gulped as the reality of his new location settled in.
Evan knew all too well the dangers that lurked beyond the city walls. The world was a dangerous place, filled with all manner of beasts, ancient horrors, and terrors of the old world; things that could strike at any time. Cities tended to prioritise defence and evacuation, and only the great cities could hope to withstand true horrors. They were lucky to live in a city with calable leadership and infrastructure- enough to repel some threats, but not all. As a result the region immediately surrounding them tended to be safe- relatively safe- in the same way jumping out of an aeroplane was safe if you carried a parachute. As long as you didn’t venture too far and studied the habits of local flora, fauna, and horrors, you stood a pretty high chance of making it home in one piece.
But that method didn't always account for shifts in the local ecology. Both large and small.
He had heard countless tales and rumours that rang through homes, taverns, and marketplaces. Tales of the destruction the god-like creatures and remnants had wrought and the towns they had destroyed in their wake. Some said that they were cursed beings, others that they were simply the creations of the gods, left to roam the earth after their creators had died or grown bored with them.
One tale that had always stuck with Evan was the story of the Great Wyrm, a massive dragon-like creature that had once terrorized the countryside. It was said to have scales as black as night, with eyes that glowed like smouldering embers in the pitch-black night. The night it had descended, the survivors had mistaken its eyes for extra moons in the sky. The wyrm was said to be capable of breathing fire hot enough to melt steel, an inferno that could consume the strongest of fortresses, reducing them to smoldering ruins. Its roar was said to be so loud it could shatter glass. Tomasz had heard that it had once attacked a nearby town, reducing it to rubble and ash in a single night.
Evan hoped his skill would take him somewhere else, or end entirely the strange journey entirely. Surely he would not survive such an encounter.
He could survive the forest outskirts, protected by his Bow, and his knowledge of the forests paths and beasts. But this far out of the city? He didn’t stand a chance.
Another tale poked at the back of his mind as he hung there, suspended in the sky. The tale spoke of the ancient horrors that dwelled deep within the earth, creatures so old and so powerful that they were beyond the comprehension of mortal men. They were said to be beings of pure darkness, with tendrils that stretched for miles and voices that whispered madness into the minds of men. It was rumoured that they had once awoken from their slumber, and the resulting destruction had left entire cities in ruins. Thinking about the ancient horrors, he shrugged. To be honest, the whispers of madness don't bother me, he thought. After listening to my mother talk about her dream dresses all day, I've become immune.
I just want to go home, please? He tried to access his mana and felt it residing within him faintly. It was strange and muted. Evan put all of his will into triggering his skills. And the world winked out before him.
Evan woke up on the floor of his makeshift training ground. His bow and arrows sprawled across the earth.
Really need to get the hang of this time travel stuff. That was dangerous as all hells, He thought as he raised himself up from the ground, his whole body aching.
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The next day, Evan set to hunt in the city outskirts with the optimism only youthful ignorance could provide, as no seasoned hunter would be so cheerful when faced with the imminent prospect of potentially being dinner. Evan, a hunter by skill, and now [Skill], was about to attempt to learn to navigate a world, and a forest, where humans without exceptional Skills or resources were quite often prey. He covered his eyes against the rising sun as Tomasz offered some fatherly advice. "Stick to the usual routes.” His father said with a smile. He had long since learned to trust Evans hunting prowess- the boy understood the forest almost as well as he did. It had been more than a few years since they’d finally given in to Evans constant nagging and allowed him to hunt within the cities visible tree lines. “Remember, son,” He placed a hand on Evans shoulder, mustering up as much of a serious expression as his mood allowed. “You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take, and ninety percent of the ones you do." He huffed a strong chuckle, and waved Evan off on his hunt as the boy shook his head, muttering something about ‘Dad jokes’.
He’d just criticised the boys shooting, but In fact, he knew that Evan was a crack shot with a bow. But still, it wouldn't hurt to keep him cautious.
Evan said his goodbyes and waved back, setting out into the forest to hunt and face the unknown, unaware that the events that were about to unfold that day would alter the course of his life forever.