Plain

It took four more days to leave the forest. During that time, I realized I would have to cover the scars again. So, while I traveled, I called on Brock to weave clothes out of the plants. With the god's help, the clothing looked like what I had worn in Farsfield, except the sleeves extended to the wrist and I wore fingerless gloves. I still had to use something that worked like a bandage for my facial Scars, but that bandage could be easily explained. It had been stupid of me to have used my Scarred arm when it was "wounded". The face was a different matter.

The border of the forest I had emerged from curved from the southwest to the northeast. The luscious green was no more, a variety of reds, yellows, and oranges replacing it. As I took it in, the chill wind stole some more non-green leaves.

Before me, a hilly field of green and yellow swayed in the wind. The grass was knee height, and seemed to have only been cultivated by Mother Earth... Or maybe just the four gods. The people here probably didn't have a Mother Earth figure in mythology.

I ventured northward, returning my supernatural gaze to a number of seconds ahead of me. I wore my cloak over my custom clothing and short sword, using it as a windbreaker. I carried nothing more.

I saw my future self conjure the magma blade, then shortly come under attack with plenty of time to react.

"Brock and Ragos, Magma Blade." I called, not breaking step. I brought the weapon up to my right shoulder as a housecat-sized creature pounced. It seemed bear-like, and had abnormally long claws. The claws did no good as the creature faceplanted into my blade. It fell to the ground dazed. Powerful hind legs and clawed forelegs were splayed. It yowled pitifully.

I had no more time to give it heed as another leapt from my left, growling viciously. It met the blade of my weapon, and its own force cleaved it in two. A third struck from behind.

"Celestia, Barrier!"

The third predator creature smashed into a wall of air, solid as stone. The first had recovered, and scurried away. I let it go. Four other scurrying sounds came from the grass, including one from the one who had hit the air wall.

I exhaled, releasing the magma blade, and inspected the beast I had killed. The wound I had given the weird predator still sizzled.

Just another oddity in an unknown world.

I thought about leaving it behind, but decided instead to weave a bag with the grass and Brock's arcane help. My efforts resulted in a large bag that would resemble Santa's when full. Did the natives of this world know who Santa was?

It's not like I was going to ask one any time soon. With my quarry in the deflated bag, I continued north. I had nowhere to go, and could neither die of starvation or exhaustion. Additionally, this was still my second go at life, and it was clear I could do something to change the fate of others. Elengail and Kendalyn were probably still alive. Faivere too. I spared her a second thought: did she manage to wrangle a guy for herself yet? I would never know, and I was okay never knowing.

At the end of the day, I scanned the area over the night. It appeared safe, so I hunkered down and slept another day.