The morning light cut through the forest canopy like golden thread, catching on the dew-damp leaves and casting warm glows across the small plot of land Sylas had cleared. It wasn't much—just a patch of soil carved out with sweat and callused hands—but to him, it was a beginning.
Barefoot, with the hem of his pants soaked from the morning mist, Sylas stood with a short hoe in one hand and a worn pouch of seeds in the other. His muscles ached from the past week of labor, but there was a quiet satisfaction in the pain. After all, it was proof he'd survived, that he was making something of this second life.
> [Inventory:
– Carrot Seeds (x20)
– Onion Seeds (x15)
– Snaproot Beans (x10)]
He crouched, carefully breaking the soil and spacing the seeds with more care than skill. It was all guesswork, built on the basic farming instructions he'd learned through trial, error, and occasional guidance from the system.
> [Quest Progress Updated: 1/3 Crops Planted]
He cracked a grin. "Good. Let's keep it going."
By midday, sweat streaked down his back, and dirt clung to his skin. His hands, already rough from chopping wood and building the chicken coop, throbbed with fresh blisters. He paused only to drink from his waterskin and admire the fence he'd built—crude but sturdy, enough to keep out curious chickens and, hopefully, the local wildlife.
> [Quest Progress Updated: 3/3 Crops Planted]
[Bonus Objective Available: Trade produce at the town market (Pending Growth)]
Sylas exhaled and wiped his brow. "That's that."
A soft chime sounded.
> [New Feature Unlocked: Farming Basics I]
You can now recognize crop growth stages.
Passive Bonus: +10% Yield on Harvest
His eyebrows lifted. "Not bad. That one's actually useful."
He headed back to his shack—a small, hand-built hut of packed earth, foraged wood, and a patched roof. It wasn't impressive, but it stood strong, and it was his. Each day, it felt a little more like home.
Halfway there, he heard rustling in the brush. He reached for the wooden spear leaned against the coop's side, just in case.
Mira stepped out from between the trees, her calm demeanor as unreadable as ever. She carried a small basket covered with cloth.
"I brought mushrooms," she said, voice low. "And a word of warning."
Sylas relaxed. "A little ominous for breakfast, but I'll bite."
She handed him the basket. "Forest mushrooms. They grow near the moss rocks by the northern slope. Safe, so long as you cook them properly."
He peeked under the cloth and nodded in appreciation. "Smells good."
Mira crouched by the garden, running her fingers through the soil with an approving hum. "You've done well here."
"Trying my best."
"I've heard talk," she said. "From the foragers. You're becoming… noticed."
Sylas tensed slightly. "That a problem?"
"Not yet. But people are curious. You don't come from around here. You don't speak like the locals, and you didn't grow up in these woods. Even if you try to blend in, the land remembers strangers."
"I've kept to myself."
Mira gave him a look. "Exactly. That's why they're talking."
He folded his arms. "So what? They'll knock on my door with a mob?"
"No," she said. "They'll test you. See if you're weak, or worth knowing. Some will come with kind words. Others with knives."
Sylas didn't respond at first. The fire crackled faintly behind his home. The cluck of his chickens drifted lazily on the breeze.
"Then I guess I'll have to grow faster," he said at last.
She nodded. "You're learning."
Later that evening, Sylas sat beside the fire, the basket of mushrooms now chopped and simmering with river fish and wild herbs. The scent filled the small space like comfort. He leaned back on a log seat, stirring with a carved wooden spoon.
> [Crop Growth Tracker: 3% – Soil Quality: Stable – Water Level: Acceptable]
[Estimated Harvest Time: 6 Days]
> [System Tip: Consider constructing a simple irrigation line or raincatch barrel to support long-term yield.]
He sighed. "Right. Another thing to build."
The projects were stacking up. Between tending the chickens, managing the crops, and now crafting water systems, he was beginning to realize that building a life from scratch was less about grand decisions and more about solving small problems, one after the other.
> [New Quest Available: Construct a Water System (Optional)]
Reward: +1 Farming Efficiency, +10 XP
He stared into the fire for a moment, then opened his worn notebook. It was a crude ledger—scraps of wood pulp pages tied with string—but it held sketches and notes from the past few weeks.
He scribbled down:
"Barrel – rainwater. Dig shallow trench to garden. Maybe bamboo stalks for piping?"
His handwriting was still shaky. He hadn't written in weeks before he arrived in this world. The act itself felt like rediscovering a limb.
He glanced toward the garden. The fence swayed gently in the breeze. The moonlight gave the plot a strange beauty.
"You'll grow," he whispered. "And I'll grow with you."
In the middle of the night, he woke up to the sound of distant howls.
He lay still, heart pounding.
The forest here wasn't tame. He'd seen claw marks on trees and heard the warning cries of birds going silent all at once. There were things in the dark—wolves, possibly worse.
But nothing approached. The chickens remained quiet.
Sylas breathed slowly and drifted back to sleep with his hand resting on the spear beside his bed.
The next morning, he began the trench.
It wasn't pretty. The ground was uneven, filled with roots and rocks. He dug with a wooden spade, sweat already soaking through his shirt as the sun climbed higher. But he didn't stop.
His life had once been dictated by hospital monitors and quiet, sterile rooms. Here, every scar on his hands told him he was alive. And every drop of sweat he spilled was an investment in the future he'd build.
> [Progress: Trench Dug – 80%]
[Barrel Missing: Incomplete]
He stood back, breathing hard. "Need that barrel."
He could probably make one. Maybe. If he had the right tools. But tools required coin, and coin required either bartering or going to town.
Not yet, he thought. Not until he understood more of the language.
He returned to the coop to gather eggs and check feed levels. The chickens flapped lazily at his approach, already accustomed to him. One even let him scratch its neck without fuss.
> [Chicken Mood: Content]
[Egg Yield +1 Today]
It was slow. It was small. But it was working.
He collected the egg and added it to the basket. As he carried it back toward the shack, he paused and turned his gaze to the treeline.
Someday, he'd need to face what was beyond it.
But not today.
Today was for planting roots.