Prologue
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Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. It’s our plain duty to escape and take as many people as we can!
* J. R. R. Tolkien
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It was a dark and stormy night—save for the fact that it was neither dark nor stormy. But it was night nonetheless, and from far above the sky, two moons—one red, one blue—like some heterochromatic cosmic beast, bore down indifferently on a particular patch of forest.
By any definition of the word, the forest was quite average. Average, at any rate, to the inhabitants of this world, or at least this region. However, if we were to explore this forest, dear readers, you would find it quite unlike any you’ve ever seen on Earth.
Well, given that you’re reading this, you probably don’t get out much anyways, and your knowledge of forests in general seems doubtful at best. Thus, let me make it easier for your pathetic imagination, numbed by youtube and video games, by describing it for you. It’s my duty as the narrator after all.
…
On a second thought… doing proper worldbuilding is too much of a pai—ahem—too taxing on your limited attention span. However, since this is a piece of satire and not an encyclopedia of otherworldly flora and fauna, it’s fine.
Definitely.
Just throw in some trees, a couple of magic herbs and a slime or two for yourself and voila! You know everything you need to know about this world’s ecology. You should know the drill at this point.
In fact, why don’t you praise me for my consideration of you lesser, fleshy beings? Go on, I’m waiting, but I haven’t got all day.
Hm? I said something about not you not knowing what forests are? You must be imagining things.
Anyhou~ moving on. Yep, let’s move on.
Moving. On.
Presently, silence blankets this slumbering ecosystem. It is night after all, and it would be plain foolishness for any dwellers of the dark to clamor about.
Correction: it’s usually silent.
Tonight, a beast’s howl pierces through the night, followed by the calls of its brethren. Hm, perhaps the pack of direwolves have found prey?
Ah, in that case, let's get closer to the action, shall we? Now, if we situate ourselves right in the treetops, we could see, or perhaps even hear—
“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!”
Oi! Don’t interrupt the narrator! It’s rude!
Ahem. Now, where were we?
Ah, that’s right, the wolves—
Oh, hi.
Hol’ up—
Do pardon my French just now. You see, I’m a bit too preoccupied running.
Wait a second here—
Which, for those of you that don’t know me, is quite strange.
Of course no one knows you, I haven’t introduced you yet!
Because, to be honest, I’m a sedentary creature.
Look, no one cares about you. Not yet at least. The one that’s supposed to make people empathize with you is me, the narrator. That’s why I’m—
Some nomadic guys twelve thousand years ago on their camels decided they didn’t want to abuse their sorry asses anymore and decided to settle down in that river valley place or something. Was it Mesopotamia? I think it’s Mesopotamia.
Can you shut up for a second?
Thus, following that example, wouldn’t a stationary life at one’s desk be the logical next step?
No, no. It really wouldn’t be, you imbecile. Now, if you’ll just work with me here, we can at least make you seem like an interesting character to read instead of just some personality-devoid, run-off-the-mill jerk, so if you’ll just let me—
Admittedly, that’s a bit of a stretch. And of course, I’d die from obesity, muscular dystrophy, etc., etc., but you get the point. My niche is atop a chair.
You know what? Fine, have it your way! I quit! You can narrate your own goddamn story! Ha! Let’s see how the readers will like first person, you half-baked… half-baked… half-baked baka! [blip]
And yet I find myself running. Running for my life, actually.
…On a second thought, who am I to say I’m running for my life?
Yes, of course, there’s a cacophony of howls growing louder behind me by the second, but let’s not be pessimistic here.
The source of the sound could just be a group of friendly kobolds. They could just be really worried that I’m dressed too lightly in my thin dress shirt and running pants and’ll catch a cold in this godforsaken place. And hey! Next thing you know, they’ve turned lolis or something and are inviting me over for tea at their idyllic house nestled in the woods.
Hmm, now that I think about it, chamomile would be good… wait, that isn’t even tea, it’s a herbal infusion! Why the hell am I even going on this tangent in the first place!?
Sighs. Look, when one moment you’re trying to get to uni, and at the next, you’re alone in some goddamn forest, the Japanese light novel authors—at least, if like me, you’re into that kinda literature—have certainly done a fine job in instilling their readers with certain, ah, shall we say, “expectations.”
Nevertheless, if millions of years of evolution did anything more for me than giving me this miserable life of mine, it’s programmed me to tell that snarling beasts equals danger, equals run.
And so, run I do.
But wait, let’s get something straight before we proceed here.
For all my grievances against the supposedly great outdoors, I’m by no means a shut-in. For that I have my parents to bla—ahem, graciously thank.
Every other weekend, for as far back as I can remember, I’d be dragged to some wayside place with my Boy Scout troop, either to camp or to hike or—god forbid—to socialize. And yet, all that supposed outdoor activity isn’t doing shit for me.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
For all those Scout Masters can go on with their “becoming one with nature” spiel, I’m pretty sure cleared hiking trails and campgrounds with wooden picnic benches do not count as nature—with all due respect, Mr. Powell.
If anybody ever became goddamn one with nature, that would be me right now.
The breathable mesh of my N-ke shoes had done wonders to let water in from some stream I had stumbled upon, and now squelch loudly with every step I take. Ragged breaths tear away at my already parched throat, and I’m practically doubling over from a horrible cramp in my abdomen. A stray branch too, dangles precipitously over my eyes. I’m sure more of its friends have found lodging in my hair, but I’m beyond caring at this point. All in all, I’m a veritable walking all-natural disaster I tell you.
Oh, and I said I was running earlier right? Well, I lied. I’m stumbling forward like a blind goddamn mole. Whichever cursed deity that summoned me here surely must’ve forgotten that mere mortals cannot see in the dark. The pale moon, no, moons—I count two of them, because of course there nothing like an extra celestial body to convince you you’re in another world—offer measly illumination after being filtered through the dense forest canopy. What little light that’s allowed through though, shows a truly despairing scene.
“Why the hell is there so much undergrowth!?”
I cry as I crash through yet another brush, earning me yet another litany of scratches on every exposed surface of my body, and some others besides. If anyone ever wondered what the outcome of sweatshop-produced apparel vs plant life in another world would be, they now know.
But in all seriousness, the forest floor looks as if an army of bulbasaurs, having nothing better to do, had gone around vomiting seeds everywhere. Any path available for me can take requires me to wade through a tidal wave of shrubbery.
It’s like a freaking jungle, save for the fact that the trees look like gnarly, overgrown oaks. Except these oaks are as tall as evergreen trees. Each trunk is a monstrosity that easily could fit three or four redwoods in it, and as one moved higher up, split off into smaller, but still enormous branches. On the ground, the trees are spaced pretty far apart, but their caponies entertangle each other like some sort of biological neural net.
Perhaps the trees actually are sentient. I read a book once where someone reincarnated as a tree, and I have no doubt that reality is stranger than fiction. [1] Look at where I am. Actually… isn’t getting chased by wolves pretty normal? Let’s pretend I didn’t say that. I’m special you know!
Trees aside, the ground is littered with various examples of plant life like saplings, bushes, ferns, and other… stuff. Most of it is hidden in the darkness, but I did notice these strange, ubiquitous arches, with little sprigs of leaves growing on top. Another notable feature, doubling as another source of light, would be these luminescent mushrooms. Their multicolored glows cast small pockets of light into the otherwise dark landscape that would most certain be aesthetic if I had the time to enjoy them, but unfortunately I don’t.
I turn in a wide arc around a tree, giving a large berth to a particularly evil-looking plant vaguely resembling a coral reef with spines. Great: enter the eldritch plants. Come on now, dish out the man-eating flowers!
…I probably shouldn’t jinx myself like this, but seriously. Where’s deforestation when you need it?
Desertification? Climate change? Bring it on! I’ll dogeza to Ch-vron if they manage to kill off all these stupid plants!
Suddenly, the brush gave way and I stumbled awkwardly into a clearing, having no more branches to block my forward progress.
For a second, I just stood still, breathless mostly from the most intensive bout of physical activity I’ve engaged in since freshman PE, but also from the sheer beauty of the place I now stood in.
The mulchy forest floor had been replaced with a carpet of calf-high grass, swaying rhythmically in the moonlight by means of some unfelt wind. Perpendicular to where I was, as small, but fast brook roughly bisected the slightly-oblong expanse around the size of a few football fields. However, what stood out the most was the massive tree occupying the center of the clearing. If I compared the other trees to this one, it would make them look like barely-mature saplings. A lone sentinel of this tract of land, its imposing presence seemingly gazed steadfastly over the whole forest, as if claiming as its own.
Truly it was the royalty of trees. An untouchably majestic presence. Such was the aura it practically exuded.
…It’d be a real shame if someone were to use it to escape from something as mundane as wolves.
That bright idea graced my head as I gazed upon the plant. Gomenasai, tree-san, it’s an emergency you know? I’ll wipe my feet on the grass as I’m going, ok?
Sorry, Ch-vron, I’ll dogeza to you at a later time. Tree-san is the VIP right now.
Ah, but enough escapism. I still have the wolves to contend with. Oh, see? One just burst out of brush—
“HOLY SHIT!”
It was when I instinctively turned around to look at the source of the sound of snapping wood when I first saw my to-be assailant.
A quick glimpse at the creature’s shadowy silhouette revealed a towering figure as far larger than any wolf I’ve seen, which is none. But I’ve seen a horse, and that thing is even slightly bigger than that. Sprouting from the crown of its head, too, are two horns which split into a menacing fractal of jagged ends. What’s worse is that, as much as my own running speed isn’t anything to write home about, the approaching beast has got to be going at least as fast as a car on a freeway.
Even though I’m about three-quarters of the way to the tree already, it’s immediately clear that it’ll catch up to me.
Nononononono, there’s no way I’ll make it in time.
By all rights, I should be terrified. The rush of adrenaline should hit me, my heart rate should shoot through the roof, and they do. My body is doing what it's supposed to do, but a weird calm has set over my mind.
…Have you ever felt the desire to just throw your hands up and walk away from something because it doesn’t matter? Like flunking the final exam because your grade can take it or something?
A feeling akin to that invaded me as I grappled with my impending doom. I mean, for a new life, this is a pretty shitty start. Since I’ve been transported to another world, surely there must be reincarnation too, right?
I mean, if I’m just going to get reborn again, death is just the reset button, right?
This isn’t just me dismissing life as sour grapes, right?
I’m not taking my own existence lightly, I’m just being rational, right?
Right?
Right?
Right?
Ri—
Just as I was morbidly wondering how much more painful dying from being ripped apart by razor-sharp teeth would be compared to a pedestrian accident, a blurred form flashed past me. I almost stop running from surprise—isn’t this the second time now?—but my legs faithfully carry me towards my destination.
Meanwhile, I looked confusedly at the creature retreating towards the other end of the clearing. Why didn’t I get impaled? Wasn’t it chasing after me?
Now that I got an opportunity to look at it, the creature vaguely resembled a deer. The structures I had thought were its horns were actually antlers, and its powerful but graceful form—one could only describe it as that as the moonlight reflected softly off its rippling pelt—showed no indication that it cared even a bit to sample me.
.
…
Did the monster deer-kun just give me the cold-shoulder?
Wait, could it be that I don’t look delicious enough or something!?
Is a human at sixty percent water lacking flavor!?!?
Look, it’s not like I want to get eaten or anything. But to straight up ignore me kinda hurts you know! Give me back my concern! With continuously compounded interest!
However, before I could finish my internal retort, I was interrupted by a series of crashing sounds coming from the treeline behind me.
By this time, I had reached the tree in the center of the clearing. Without caring to find out what new heinous abomination of a creature had decided to join monster deer-kun and I, I scrambled up the gigantic tree as fast as I could.
The bark felt strangely cool, but I was able to find purchase on it with minimal difficulty.
With skill that surprised even myself, I somehow managed to haul myself to the lowest branch on the tree. From there, I looked down on what had come late to the party.
Wolves kitaaaaaaaaaaa!
Bounding across the clearing was a pack of a little over half a dozen wolves, each of them as big as a large pony. Not even giving the tree where I rested a glance, the pack was making a beeline for monster deer-kun.
Ah…
Everything made sense now. Monster deer-kun wasn’t chasing me, it was being chased by the pack of wolves. That’s why it ignored me.
So it did see me as a small fry…
A sudden wave of depression hit me. But it’s ok, I’m still alive. For that, your sacrifice won’t be forgotten, deer-kun. I’ll excuse your transgression on the grounds that you served as a diversion for the wolves.
As I was thinking this, deer-kun disappeared into the treeline at the other end of the clearing. The wolves quickly followed, their howls indicating their ever widening distance from me.
Soon, an eerie silence fell over the clearing. At this, it felt like a lead weight was suddenly dropped on my body as I flopped down on the branch out of exhaustion.
With the last vestige of my consciousness that sleep had yet to conquer, I wondered if this forest had hyper-tribal monkeys.
…
Nah, this isn’t the Great Elr-e Labyrinth. At least my own mother isn’t trying to murder me. Umu, umu, how fortunate of me indeed that I’m not a spider. [2]
With that comforting thought, I drifted off into a fitful bout of sleep.
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[1] Tree of Aeons (an Isekai Story)
[2] I'm a Spider, So What?