Ethan woke with a groan, every muscle screaming in protest. His body ached from bruises and stiffened joints, a lingering reminder of the sprint through the forest and the narrow escape from the creature wielding earth magic two nights ago. Even recalling the way the monster hurled dirt and rocks made his stomach tighten. He shivered despite the warmth of the morning air, a mix of fear, adrenaline, and exhaustion keeping him alert.
Hunger pressed harder than pain. He had eaten all his granola bars, and his water bottle was nearly empty. Each sip of water he had left was precious, barely enough to keep him from feeling parched. Survival demanded action—food, water, and shelter first, strategy and planning second.
Then he remembered the four leather-bound books tucked carefully in his bag. He didn't understand the language, but their craftsmanship and intricate designs suggested value. Someone in this world—someone familiar with rare or ancient objects—might trade for them. Coins, food, water, even clothes—anything to give him an advantage before attempting to enter the city tomorrow.
He ate a small handful of berries, carefully examining each one before putting it in his mouth. The forest was full of things that could kill him if he wasn't cautious. Each bite reminded him why patience and observation were essential; poor judgment could end him, and there were no second chances in this world.
From the forest's edge, he could see the road stretching toward the city walls. The dark surface gleamed faintly in the morning light, almost like a river of glass embedded in stone. He crouched low, moving along the shadows, leather bag clutched to his chest. Sword and shield were secured—more for reassurance than for fighting—every step measured, every sound noted.
Soon, a merchant's cart appeared, creaking under a mountain of goods. Barrels, crates, sacks, and bundles were piled high, swaying slightly with every movement. The driver guided a large four-legged creature with rough gray skin and strong hooves, keeping the cart steady as they approached a small checkpoint on the outskirts of the city. Coins jingled faintly as other merchants were allowed through, exchanging goods and paying tolls.
Ethan crouched in the undergrowth, studying carefully. Observation was crucial. He didn't know the language, the currency, or the rules. One wrong move could make him a target for guards or hostile merchants. Patience and caution had kept him alive this long.
The cart slowed in a shaded area, providing a moment of opportunity. Ethan stepped forward, holding the books clearly in front of him. He gestured toward the volumes, then at himself, trying to convey his need for trade. The merchant paused, brows furrowing in curiosity, then motioned for Ethan to place the books on a blanket beside the cart.
The merchant examined the first book carefully, brushing his fingers over the leather cover and flipping through the pages with an appraising eye. Ethan mimicked pointing at the coins in the merchant's pouch, then to the books, hoping his gestures communicated a fair exchange.
The merchant smiled faintly and began selecting items from the cart: a small pouch of coins, a flask of water, compact rations, and—most importantly—a set of simple but sturdy clothing. Ethan quickly swapped his tattered, dirt-streaked shirt and trousers for the new tunic and pants. The fabric felt foreign but comforting; durable, covering his bruises more effectively, and giving him a sense of dignity he had almost forgotten.
He carefully packed the coins, water, rations, clothing, and the remaining three books into his leather bag. Relief washed over him. Hunger, thirst, and exposure were no longer immediate threats. But his logical mind immediately assessed the situation: the merchant had probably given him less than the books were truly worth. That thought didn't upset him—survival came first—but it did set his mind to work.
The first book got me this trade, he thought, turning the leather cover over in his hands. If one book can fetch this much, the other three are probably even more valuable. I need to keep them safe. They'll give me leverage later—maybe for better trades, information, or access once I know the language and understand the city's rules.
The city loomed distant and imposing, a massive wall with towers rising sharply into the sky. Smoke drifted from chimneys, and faint voices carried on the wind. From this distance, the sounds were soft but unmistakable—the rhythm of carts, the occasional shout of merchants, and the metallic clink of coins exchanging hands. Ethan stayed low, carefully observing the patterns of guards, merchants, and travelers. Understanding these routines before attempting entry was crucial.
He adjusted his bag strap, feeling the weight of his coins, water, rations, clothing, and books. The new tunic and trousers were snug but comfortable, allowing better movement than his tattered remnants. Even small advantages mattered here.
Ethan let himself relax slightly, though tension remained in every muscle. Patience had carried him this far, and logic would carry him further. The merchant's trade might not have been perfect, but it had secured his immediate survival. Coins, rations, water, and clothing—all in hand. He could rest for tonight and focus on the city tomorrow.
As dusk settled, the forest around him darkened. Shadows lengthened, strange insects hummed softly, and alien birds called out to each other in the distance. He nestled beneath a massive root, holding his bag and shield close. The city walls glowed faintly in the fading light, massive and unyielding. Every sound reminded him that danger was never far, but he had survived today. That, for now, was enough.
He reflected on the day, recognizing his own growth in this strange world. The attack by the earth-magic creature two nights ago, the abandoned village, the careful scouting of the road, and now this trade—it all required observation, logical thinking, and patience. Each step was deliberate, each decision a matter of life or death.
The other three books, he thought again, carefully tucking them in his bag. I need to keep them safe.They could probably help me again in the future
The forest settled into silence as night deepened. Ethan let himself close his eyes, aware of the weight of the day, the bruises in his body, and the uncertain path ahead. Tomorrow would bring the city, with all its rules and dangers, but for tonight, he had survived. He had prepared as best as he could, armed with food, water, coins, clothing, and knowledge gained through careful observation.
Survival had always been step one, and tonight, he had accomplished that. Tomorrow, he would test the city gates, cautious, logical, and prepared.