Chapter 5: Wishing Stone

Martin woke me up for my watch at some point in the night after he'd grown too tired and needed a break. I gave a loud yawn after he shook me awake, then wearily reached for my shirt and slid it onto my torso. By the time my head popped out, Martin had already collapsed onto the grass and was fast asleep.

Left alone with my thoughts, I studied the magical trees and their peculiar leaves. It still amazed and mystified me that such things were even possible. If we got too thirsty, drinking the sap would be an option. Who knew what they might taste like?

I resolved myself to explore the possibilities later once Martin was awake. For now, I reached into my jacket and pulled out my notebook. I fished around in my pockets for the pen and was surprised to find it exactly where I left it. In all the excitement of the day, I honestly expected myself to lose it along the way.

Writing was difficult, though. I flipped to a blank page and stared contemplatively. What to do...what to write...how to make it interesting...

Nothing came to mind, so I stared a little while longer, waiting for inspiration to take hold.

It never did. So, I did what I always did and forced myself to write the first few words. It came slowly, like water squeezed from a frozen pipe, one word a minute it seemed, and then faster and faster. My pen glided along the page.

I lost myself in writing. I wasn't concerned about the future and what it might bring, or whether everyone I loved on Earth was safe. All I cared about was the next word, the next quote, how everything flowed together seamlessly.

It was hard. Writing was always hard for me. I was never good at anything, but I wanted to be good at writing. Looking back, my initial inspiration was probably to make something me and my mother could both enjoy. Reading was the only interest we shared, but it brought us together and made our bond unbreakable.

Memories tugged at my mind, guiding the words I wrote. I could remember it, those long, boring hours after school when I would wait for my mother. When the door finally opened and she waltzed in, she'd always be smiling. She would trot upstairs to talk to my father first, but not before ruffling my unruly blond hair and giving me a kiss on the forehead.

The routine stayed the same every day for years. She thought I couldn't hear them arguing upstairs, but I did. Even at ten I understood she'd been beaten before coming downstairs to sit next to me on our small, dilapidated sofa, acting as if nothing was wrong.

I loved her. She was a hero in her own right. Any parent who worked so much for their child, only to come home and endure an abusive partner in silence, was a hero. She sacrificed so much for me.

I was so invested in my writing that I didn't notice the tears seeping onto the pages. My body trembled in its fight against sobs.

The bleeping of another message from the System made me look up from my notebook. It proved hard to read with bleary eyes, but I managed with a little difficulty.

THE SYSTEM IS REACTING TO YOUR EMOTIONS.

A [TALENT] HAS BEEN DETECTED. TITLE UNLOCKED: EXPERIENCED SCRIBE (+10 intelligence, +10 constitution, +15 wisdom)

UNIQUE PASSIVE (HEIGHTENED WISDOM) HAS MANIFESTED.

The system's alerts, as always, were exceedingly obnoxious, but this time the messages filled me with as much gratification as annoyance. For what might've been the first time in my life, I felt as though I was being acknowledged for something relating to my writing. I had no idea what those values meant—stats, most likely—but just seeing the title "Experienced Scribe" made me blush.

Perhaps the System won't be such a bad thing after all, I thought. I meant it, too. It seemed as if everything I did was culminating into rewards the more I opened myself up to the System's influences. First the wishing stone, and now this.

Ah. That's right. I did get that, didn't I?

Inventory. I reached out to the wishing stone where it sat neatly in its small cubicle. At first, nothing happened. I pushed my hand deeper, recalling how the System seemingly responded to wants and desires, and that's when I felt it. The cold, hard surface of a crystal. I latched on and pulled it out.

It was beautiful. It glowed faintly, a low, thrumming light that quickened in response to my touch. For a moment I simply held it, realization washing over me.

I could hold things in the inventory. And if I could hold things there, then wood wouldn't become an issue. The only question was how to go about collecting it, how to get it when the shadows prowled about.

The beginnings of a masterful idea sparked to life.

Axe. I thought of what I would need to accomplish my plans. It needed to be sturdy most of all. It couldn't break no matter how much I used it. There was always the possibility that we needed more wood, after all.

Give me an unbreakable axe that glows.

Nothing happened. Surprised, I repeated my wish. Still, nothing happened.

I wish for an axe that glows and never breaks.

Light flowed out of the stone.

PROCESSING REQUEST...

ACCEPTED.

The crystal shuddered in my hands. It grew warm, then turned to fire. I was forced to let go.

It levitated where my hands had been, then flickered and pulsated like a strobe light. Flicker. Flicker. Flicker It turned bright blue and began to grow wider and longer, until, with one final fit of flickering, it disappeared.

A long, beautiful axe winked into existence. I sucked in air at the sight of its masterful craftsmanship. The handle, an elegant, chestnut brown, boasted golden runic inscriptions that coiled around its length. A solid half-moon of gold, so bright it glowed white in the moonlight, comprised the head.

It dropped into my hands gently.

YOU HAVE UNCOVERED A RELIC.

Shadow-Splitting Axe: +30 constitution, +20 strength, -20 dexterity

Item Description: Forged in the deep, fiery Hollows of the Under-Earth and fed the shadows of the Lord of Darkness, this axe represents the perseverance of an elf too stubborn for even despair to consume. So long as you continue to swing it, the axe shall light the path forwards.

This item is a growth-type relic.

This item's affixes are Growth, Luminescent, and Unbreakable.

I grinned. The plan worked spectacularly. Now was time for the execution.

When my hands wrapped around the axe's handle, strength seeped into me, flowing into my hands and dispersing throughout my body. A dim glow emanated from the axe, growing brighter the longer I held it. After about a minute of waiting, the glow reached its climax. Not enough to brighten the whole forest, but it would be enough to keep shadows at bay while I chopped wood.

And that's exactly what I did.

I walked up to the sapling of a tree with orange leaves, drew back my arms, and slammed the axe against the trunk with all my might. The axe bit halfway through and the sapling shuddered. I wriggled the axe head free, then repeated the movement and cut it down.

When it fell, the System notified me that my logging skill had leveled up. I immediately closed the notification and set about cutting the log into pieces, chunks of circular wood that could be stored in the inventory. The sapling wasn't much, but it made five decent-sized logs and a bunch of small, misshapen pieces.

When everything was in my inventory, it showed as a bundle that took up only one slot. With a satisfied smile, I found another tree, this one a little thicker. It only took three blows for it to fall, and my lumbering skill increased by one more level.

I repeated the movements, cutting down saplings and small bushes before gathering their materials into the inventory. A well-practiced movement became habitual, and this was no exception. I paid no attention to the notifications and completely lost myself in the act.

After what must've been an hour, I came upon a tree. It was young—not like all the older, towering behemoths—and in a clearing slightly larger than our camp. I stepped back to contemplate. The last thing I wanted was to uproot multiple trees and wake Martin.

The tree wasn't large enough to knock down the ones which surrounded it. Once it fell, though, it would certainly make noise. But in the end, it would surely be worth it. I approached the trunk and swung the axe. It bit into the wood with ease, throwing splinters of wood across the grass. Again, I swung. This time, after tearing my axe free, I inched forwards before swinging again with ferocity and strength that had yet to fade.

This continued for some time. I fell into a rhythm. Swing, wrestle free, move. Swing, wrestle free, move. Swing...swing...swing...

My legs wobbled and the next thing I knew I was on the ground gasping for air. Dawn was close. The sun, its long, orange tendrils snaking across the horizon, rose above the grey clouds. I looked around in awe at how much of the forest I had cleared.

To my amazement, the System was overflowing with notifications informing me about various level-ups and unlocks. I'd gained three new skills and a talent, chopped up five stacks of wood-bundles, discovered a title, and earned two achievements.

I read the descriptions of everything. The first skill I unlocked was horizontal swing, which didn't really do much. It was as simple as it sounded. Next was cleave, which seemed like a much more proficient horizontal swing. It, unlike the other, had a chance to critically strike. The last skill I unlocked, the most unique of them all, was called moonlit cascade. It didn't seem like anything useful at a cursory glance, but upon re-reading I nearly fainted at its absurdity.

Moonlit Cascade (P): Your body flows like the silvery light of the moon. With a mind that dances like water and a body that moves like reeds, you have learned to quell the mind and lose yourself in simple movements. When in a state of great focus, all growth is doubled.

My eyes, hungry to discover what else I'd unlocked, skimmed the remaining notifications. The talent I unlocked was [Novice Logger]. It increased my constitution and slightly lowered stamina drain. Each bundle was comprised of twenty-five logs, which meant we'd have enough for the next few nights even if I completely stopped cutting down trees. Next was the title [Willing to Learn], which made it more likely for me to unlock new skills—by half a percent.

The two achievements [Getting Started] and [Amateur Deforester] landed a few small stat bonuses. Neither of the stat rewards interested me very much. It was the items that raised eyebrows. Not a wishing stone, but an item called the "Beginner Grab Bag," alongside a passive skill that made it possible for me to cut down a tree in one swing.

I suppose something is better than nothing. The growling of my stomach came as a surprise. I'd spent so long cutting down trees and exercising that I never stopped to think about what might happen if, after all that work, I got hungry.

I looked around to see if I could spot any berries or bushes. I didn't, so I opened the inventory and rummaged through my items. I hovered over the beginner grab bag until a description appeared.

Inside this item is a firestarter kit, a shield and sword, bow, quiver filled with arrows, and a staff.

Without even thinking about it, I opted to open the item. I watched in awe as everything appeared in the grid, slots filling up with items. The firestarter kit was consumable but had five uses. The sword, shield, bow, and staff were all breakable.

Everything you could ever need to discern about an item was there for anyone to see. You needn't even read deeply—a brief glance gave you everything, from the item's overall sturdiness to sharpness values. It even showed the durability of each individual component of the sword.

The System was an amazing thing.

I just hoped I lived long enough to fully understand it.