CHAPTER 16 - 'FARMING MATS'

  Everything hurt.

  His arms, his legs—but good hurt.

  And not for wasted efforts.

  Levan rested his hands briefly on his hips, looking out over the bundles spread across the clearing, expanded now by a ring of tree stumps where hours of tree chopping had cleared the way further.

  “Okay,” he said, voice slightly muffled from where his nose and mouth were tucked under the collar of the [ Bloodstained Acolyte’s Tunic ]. “Last one.”

  He slapped his own cheek a couple of times to wake himself up, and shook off any residual tiredness. Levan spread one leg out in front of him, reaching as far as he could from his starting point without actually taking a step, like a relay racer waiting to receive the baton.

  “Aetherize,” he whispered, the barest bit of his fingernail touching his bundle of wood.

  The logs dissipated in a near instant, growing translucent and pale green for a shimmering moment before spreading into a cloud of tiny pale green motes of light.

  Levan sprinted away behind his [ 1x Stone Barricade Piece ], clearing the matte grey surface and ducking underneath just as the aether particulate blew out in all directions.

  It passed over head, some of it singing the tips of his hair hair where the small barricade couldn’t quite protect him. But, for the most part, it spread out into the forest, invisible to all but those who could see Aether.

  And, sure enough, it ended up with the rest of the logs from the day in the Aetherial Stores.

  [ Aetherized: x16 Wood Logs ]

  [ Aetherial Stores: x64 Wood Logs ]

  When the wind settled, the aether particulate settled with it, and it was like the last batches he’d done, where there was nothing but the stumps to show for the old trees.

  “A stack of wood logs,” Levan told Codex, freeing his nose and mouth from the tunic. “That’s how you get started, mark my words. Can’t go wrong having a full stack of wood.”

  [ Codex > Quantities > A “stack” traditionally refers to x50 wooden logs, not x64. ]

  “Not where I grew up, baby,” Levan mentally responded with a smile.

  [ You are not where you grew up, nor are you an infant, ] Codex replied, and Levan shrugged.

  “Either way,” Levan said, and cracked his back. “It’s a good start.”

  Wood and stone.

  That had been the mission for these first few hours. A mission surprisingly do-able. His overall fitness level seemed increased, but also the Crafter ability core included skills for gathering resources, too—and so, like a martial artist finding pressure points, even his Novice rank Woodcutting skills had made quick work of the trees. At least the ones he could cut.

  A few trees remained in the clearing, standing out against the stumps. Apparently they were called “Ironwood Trees”, and he needed a Novice Rank 1 Woodcutting skills to chop them down.

  Same with the “Lesser Ley Stones,” grey stone that looked almost identical to the regular stone which still dotted the clearing.

  But, apart from the special rocks and special trees, he’d made good work here.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Levan shut his eyes, and an image sprang to mind.

  A room, with dark green stone the color of sea-swallowed moss, with a decrepit mosaic on the floor he couldn’t read.

  It was a vast room, with cathedral-high ceilings, and when he pictured himself standing in it, he was small enough against the rest of the room to lack detail.

  The room was the Aetherial Stores. At least it was his mind’s picture for conjuring them and their contents.

  Objects appeared in the farthest left, farthest up section of the room, tucked into a corner.

  Levan had to switch from his third-person birds eye view to a first-person view to see the objects. There wasn’t much, and compared to the total size of the cathedral-like room, it might as well have been dust driven into the corner.

  But it was all he had.

  There were four bundles of wood, each identical. There was a pile of stones, also mostly identical, that went roughly up to his waist. Next to them was a trio of tools, then, leaning against the wall, was a short sword with a one-handed hilt and a broad blade.

  ===============

  AETHERIAL STORES

  Materials

  >> [ x64 Wood ]

  >> [ x16 Stone ]

  Tools

  >> [ Stone Axe ]

  >> [ Stone Pickaxe ]

  >> [ Stone Shovel ]

  Weapons

  >> [ Shortsword ]

  ===============

  The image of the stores faded, and Levan found himself once again in a forest clearing on a strange new world, wearing just the bloodstained robes of the dead priest and looking to all the world to be empty handed.

  I’ve got wood. Ay.

  I’ve got stone.

  I’ve got an axe, a pickaxe, and a shovel.

  I’ve got a weapon.

  His mental checklist included three last items—the classics, what he arguably should have pursued first:

  Food, water, and shelter.

  But apparently his instincts were good.

  [ Codex > Chosen Soul > Boons | An ability core isn’t the only gift offered to a Chosen Soul from elsewhere on the Emberlaines. The Chosen Soul needs remarkably less food and water than both on their world, and the natives of the world the Emberlaines has sent them to. They have additional resistance to weather and lower risk of exposure. Finally, Chosen Souls do not need to sleep frequently. Several hours of rest or restful activity provide the same benefits. ]

  Levan digested this.

  Not literally—he hadn’t eaten anything since...

  He frowned.

  He couldn’t remember what the last thing he’d eaten on earth was. He’d been studying through dinner and hadn’t eaten anything before bed.

  He forgot to eat sometimes. And some of that was intentional. His school had boasted a lauded cafeteria, but food in general tended to gross Levan out. He wouldn’t miss it.

  [ Chosen Soul > Boons > Food, Water, Sleep & Survival | A Chosen Soul does not need food, water, shelter, or sleep to the same degree as a natural inhabitants of the Emberlaine Plane they have been sent to. ]

  Food?

  Water?

  Shelter?

  Sleep?

  “How often do I need to eat?” he asked. He still didn’t feel any hunger whatsoever.

  [ Inner Workings Skill Required for information | Novice, Rank 2+ ]

  [ Current Inner Workings Skill | Novice, Rank 1 ]

  “Ah,” Levan said.

  The damn inner workings skill. As in—I could tell you more about how the world works, Levan, but instead you deserve to struggle.

  His mind started to wander, considering just how high exactly that (Inner Workings) skill could get. Would he reach an Einsteinian level of conjecturing and understanding reality? How the pieces moved, how the smallest and largest things worked?

  [ Confirmed ] the Codex replied.

  Levan raised an eyebrow.

  [ Codex > Communication Techniques > Abbreviated & Conversational Styles | The Codex will become more capable of communication information fluidly as it grows along side the Chosen Soul. This will begin as abbreviated messages for common-use communication, such as confirming or denying questions asked by the chosen one, approval or rejection of capabilities, the success or failure of information lookups, and more. ]

  Levan sighed. “Back on my world we’re starting to get into all that ‘intelligent assistant’ stuff,” he said. “Is that what you are?”

  [ Reference not found. ]

  “You know—an artificial intelligence—like--”

  Levan stopped, and frowned.

  “Hey, Codex?” Levan asked. “What are you?”

  [ Inner Workings Skill Required | ??? ]

  [ Current Inner Workings Skill | Novice, Rank 5 ]

  “…huh,” Levan said, still frowning. “Noted.”

  You know what they say about assumptions.

  “So I don’t need food, I don’t need water, and I’m resistant to the elements,” he said.

  Confirmation from the Codex.

  Overhead, the sun stretched into afternoon as Levan turned in a small circle, waiting for some detail or instinct or intellectual line of reasoning to leap out at him, telling him where to go or what to do.

  He’d wished for the same thing on sometimes, back on Earth.

  It rarely worked.

  Often times, he had to walk a path he saw so often as arbitrary, as the potential positive and negative outcomes of other paths crashed against his own like waves against a bridge.

  And ever onward on the bridge, through school and bullying, through silence, through his parents divorce. Just walking along the bridge as the waves crashed to either side, as he saw potential realities like virtual particles, appearing and disappearing, never existing but still changing him.

  Ever the outsider.

  Even for his own life.

  Levan shook his head.

  It’s not so good to spend so much time in here, he told himself. In your own head. Here’s a chance to get out of it for a bit. Get some fresh air. Might as well. Twice the time in your head didn’t half-benefit the world outside it.

  He couldn’t be entirely sure about that math, but the gist sounded right.

  Levan spun on his heel, picked a direction in the forest clearing, and began to walk.