Reflection II

Gabriel walked, his eyes scanning the glowing notification that hovered before him:

You have defeated a [Small Prey].

Eryndor Essence: +15

You have Leveled Up!

A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he read the words. It had been far too long since he'd felt the rush of progress, the satisfaction of growth. After so much time scraping by, stuck at the bottom, the feeling of leveling up was almost intoxicating.

Level 1, he thought, the words carrying more weight than they should. It wasn't much, but it was a start. And right now, even a small step forward felt like a victory.

His fingers twitched at the thought of the status boost. He needed every ounce of strength he could get—every advantage in this hostile world where survival felt like a gamble with loaded dice.

For the first time in what felt like forever, hope stirred in his chest.

Unlike the systems he had read about in games or novels, his didn't allow him to improve his physical attributes through leveling up. No sudden boosts to strength or agility, no shortcuts to power. But that didn't matter—what he gained was far more valuable.

"Skill shop." He muttered, and the list unraveled before his eyes, glowing faintly in the dim forest light.

Rows of options flickered in front of him, each labeled with a name, a brief description, and a cost in Eryndor Essence. Most of the skills were grayed out, far beyond what he could afford with the meager 25 essence he had earned. Still, his eyes scanned the list carefully, weighing his options.

Skill Shop

[Beast Sense] (30 Essence)

Heighten your senses to detect nearby creatures and their intentions.

(Unavailable)

[Minor Regeneration] (50 Essence)

Accelerate the healing of minor wounds over time.

(Unavailable)

[Steady Hands] (20 Essence)

Improve your precision and control when wielding weapons or tools.

[Pathfinder's Instinct] (25 Essence)

Gain an innate understanding of your environment, including where to find edible plants, clean water, and areas frequented by predators.

[Flint Spark] (15 Essence)

Ignite small fires for warmth, light, or basic survival needs.

Gabriel's eyes scanned the list, his gaze settling on a skill near the bottom.

"Edible plants, clean water, predators…" he murmured, reading the description again. It was exactly what he needed. His stomach tightened as if on cue, the dull ache of hunger gnawing at him. Food and water were becoming more urgent with each passing hour, and if this skill could help him find them—and avoid becoming food himself—it was worth every bit of essence he had.

Without hesitation, he tapped the glowing icon.

[Pathfinder's Instinct] Acquired!

The notification faded, and Gabriel immediately felt a subtle shift in his awareness. It wasn't overwhelming, like a sudden flood of information, but more like a quiet whisper at the back of his mind. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the sensations wash over him.

When he opened his eyes, the forest seemed… different. Details he hadn't noticed before stood out to him now: the faint discoloration on a patch of moss that suggested stagnant water nearby, the broken branches on a bush that hinted at a predator's recent passage.

His gaze drifted to a cluster of plants growing near the base of a tree. He crouched, his fingers brushing against the leaves. They were broad and waxy, dotted with tiny red berries. Instinctively, he knew they were poisonous. A faint shiver ran down his spine at the thought of what might have happened if he'd eaten them blindly.

He straightened, scanning the area again. A faint tug in his mind—like a gentle nudge—drew his attention to the east. The air there seemed cooler, fresher. He knew, without understanding how, that water was in that direction.

A small smile tugged at his lips. "This'll do." he murmured, gripping the hilt of his sword.

Adjusting the blade at his side, Gabriel began moving east. His steps were quieter now, his eyes sharper, scanning the forest for anything that might serve as food. He crouched occasionally to inspect clusters of berries clinging to low bushes, their bright, waxy surfaces gleaming in the faint light. But each time, the whisper at the back of his mind warned him to stay away. Toxic. Dangerous.

The frustration gnawed at him, just as the hunger did. His stomach churned, empty and insistent. Near water, he reminded himself. "There's always a better chance of finding food near water. But predators know that too."

The thought lingered in his mind like a shadow, urging him to stay alert. He focused on the forest around him, his senses sharper than ever. The rustling of leaves, the chirping of insects, the distant creak of a tree swaying in the wind—it all painted a clearer picture in his mind now. Every sound had meaning, every shift in the environment a possible warning.

The forest began to change as he moved farther east. The air grew cooler, fresher, carrying with it the faint, unmistakable scent of water. The trees thinned slightly, their twisted roots giving way to patches of softer earth. Gabriel pushed through the underbrush, his steps cautious but purposeful, until finally, the sound of rushing water reached his ears.

When he emerged from the trees, the sight before him made him pause.

The river stretched out before him like a ribbon of glass, its surface shimmering in the soft, golden light of the setting sun. The water was clear, so clear he could see the smooth stones lining the bottom, their colors muted by the rippling current. On the far bank, tall reeds swayed gently in the breeze, their feathery tops catching the light. The forest opened up here, giving way to a wide, open expanse that seemed almost peaceful—almost safe.

But what truly caught Gabriel's attention was what lay beyond the river.

Far in the distance, past the rolling hills and dense trees, he could see the faint outline of a city. Its spires rose against the horizon, bathed in the warm hues of twilight. Even from this distance, it looked imposing yet inviting, a beacon of civilization in the untamed wilderness.

Gabriel's breath caught in his throat. A city. The sight filled him with equal parts hope and unease. It was proof he wasn't alone in this world, but it also raised questions. Who—or what—lived there?

Shaking the thought from his mind, he turned his attention back to the riverbank. His eyes scanned the area, searching for something—anything—he could eat. His instincts guided him to a cluster of low shrubs near the water's edge. Their broad leaves were familiar, and nestled among them were small, green fruits that looked almost like pears.

He crouched, inspecting them closely. The whisper of his instincts didn't warn him away this time. These were safe. Edible. Relief washed over him, and his stomach growled in anticipation.

But as he reached out to pluck one of the fruits, a low, guttural growl froze him in place.

His hand stopped midair, his breath catching in his throat. Slowly, he turned his head, his eyes scanning the trees across the river. At first, he saw nothing—just the swaying reeds and the dappled shadows of the forest. Then, movement.

A massive creature emerged from the underbrush. It was feline in shape, but far larger than any big cat Gabriel had ever seen. Its sleek, muscular body was covered in dark, mottled fur that seemed to shift with the light, blending almost perfectly with its surroundings. Its eyes, a piercing amber, scanned the riverbank.

Gabriel's heart pounded in his chest as he ducked low, pressing himself against the ground behind the shrubs. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, his knuckles white. The creature prowled closer to the water's edge, its movements smooth and calm. It sniffed the air, its ears twitching, and Gabriel held his breath, willing himself to stay completely still.

Don't see me. Don't hear me.

The predator lowered its head to the river, lapping at the water with slow, deliberate movements. Gabriel's muscles ached from the tension, but he didn't dare move. The sword in his hand felt useless against something so large, so deadly.

Minutes passed like hours as the creature drank its fill, its tail flicking lazily behind it. Then, with one final glance at the riverbank, it turned and disappeared back into the trees, its form melting into the shadows as if it had never been there.

Gabriel let out a shaky breath, his entire body trembling. He stayed crouched for a moment longer, listening intently to the forest, his senses sharp and his muscles taut. The predator was gone—or at least far enough that he could no longer hear it. Only then did he dare to straighten, his knees weak and unsteady beneath him, his heart still pounding in his chest.

His gaze shifted back to the fruit hanging from the shrubs. Hunger gnawed at him, sharp and insistent, and this time, he couldn't hold himself back. His hand shot out, plucking one of the small green fruits from the branch. For a moment, he hesitated, his instincts whispering a faint reassurance that it was safe.

He bit into it.

The taste was nothing like he'd expected. It wasn't sweet or bland like he'd imagined—it was rich, savory, almost smoky, with a texture that was both juicy and crisp. Like a roasted tomato, but with the crunch of an apple. Gabriel froze mid-bite, his eyes widening in disbelief as the flavor spread across his tongue.

For a moment, he just stood there, stunned. Then his body seemed to come alive. His stomach growled loudly, almost painfully, and his hands trembled as he took another bite, then another, devouring the fruit with desperate urgency. The juices dripped down his chin and onto his shirt, but he didn't care. He chewed quickly, swallowing each mouthful as though he feared it might be snatched away.

Warmth spread through his body, radiating outward from his core. It wasn't just the satisfaction of eating. His body starved of proper nourishment for what felt like forever, seemed to come alive with each bite. His limbs tingled, his head felt clearer.

Gabriel let out a shuddering breath as he finished the fruit, wiping the juice from his chin with the back of his hand. His stomach still ached, but it was a different kind of ache now—a less desperate one. He glanced back at the shrubs, considering grabbing another, but a flicker of caution stopped him. The predator might return, and lingering here was a risk he couldn't afford to take.

He took one last look at the river, its surface shimmering under the fading sunlight. As he turned to leave, something caught his eye—a flicker of movement in the water. He froze, leaning closer, only to realize it was his own reflection staring back at him.

For a moment, he didn't recognize himself.

The face in the water wasn't the one he remembered from his old world. His hair, once dark and unremarkable, was now a vivid red, short and curling wildly around his head in a way that seemed almost untamed. His nose was larger than before, but it didn't feel out of place—it gave his face a certain character, a sharpness that balanced out the softness of his long, elegant features. His teeth, bright and white, stood out starkly against the dirt smudged across his face.

His face was long, but rather than making him look strange, it only enhanced his appearance. There was a beauty to it, though not the kind he would have ever expected. It wasn't conventional, but it was striking. Unique.

His gaze drifted lower, taking in the rest of his reflection. His body was slender, almost wiry, as if he had never lifted even a cup in his life. The clothes he wore were finely tailored once—he could tell that much from the stitching and the cut. But now, they were little more than tattered remnants, torn and frayed from his time in the forest. The fabric was stained with dirt, blood, and sweat, clinging to him like a second skin.

"Who was this person before me? " he wondered, brushing a hand through his tangled curls. 

The thought unsettled him, but his body had other priorities. His throat was dry, painfully so, and now that he'd eaten, the need for water clawed at him with renewed urgency.

Gabriel knelt at the riverbank, cupping his hands to scoop the cool, clear water. He hesitated for a moment, his instincts kicking in. Was it safe? The whisper at the back of his mind—Pathfinder's Instinct—offered no warnings, no hesitation. The water was clean.

He brought it to his lips and drank.

The first sip was almost painful, the icy water shocking his parched throat. But as it slid down, relief flooded through him. He drank again, greedily this time, letting the water cool the fire in his chest and fill the gnawing emptiness in his stomach. His body seemed to come alive with every gulp, his muscles loosening, his head clearing.

Gabriel splashed some water onto his face, wiping away the grime that clung to his skin. For the first time in days, he felt something close to human again.

Straightening, he took a deep breath and looked out over the river once more. The spires of the city in the distance seemed closer now, their shapes sharper against the fading light. As he turned to leave, his gaze caught the faint trail of footprints in the soft earth leading away from the river. They were shallow but unmistakably human, heading in the same direction he was going.

He adjusted the sword at his side and began walking, his steps falling into the trail left by whoever had come before him. His body felt lighter now, his hunger dulled, his thirst quenched. The forest still loomed around him, its shadows stretching longer as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

Whatever waited for him in that city, he would face it.