Chapter 3: Encounter with an Archer
Simon awoke to the soft whispers of the forest, the alien landscape around him saturated with the sounds of an ecosystem he didn't understand. His body ached from a night spent on the unforgiving forest floor, every muscle reminding him of his displacement from the comfort of his own world.
As he gathered his wits, a faint, almost imperceptible ping rang through his consciousness—a peculiar sensation that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once.
[System Activation Initiated...]
The words shimmered momentarily before his eyes, as real as the forest around him yet impossible to touch. Simon blinked, hoping to dispel the illusion, but the message only sharpened into clarity.
[Welcome, Simon. Aether System now online. Initializing basic interface...]
As the greeting faded, a series of numbers briefly floated in his field of vision, assigning him attributes he didn't fully understand.
[Initial Attributes Assigned]
Strength: 5Agility: 4Stamina: 6Intellect: 7Charm: 3Perception: 4
"Is this some kind of RPG?" Simon muttered, touching his forehead as if he might find a physical explanation to the phenomenon. Nothing. The numbers vanished as if they were never there.
[Quest Assigned: Survive and Explore. No further guidance available.]
The system's lack of guidance was both intriguing and frustrating. Deciding that staying still wouldn't help, Simon began to move, guided by a primal instinct to find water.
As he maneuvered through the dense foliage, he eventually came upon a clear stream. Grateful, he knelt to drink, and a new message chimed in his mind.
[Quest Update: Discover Resources. +10 Experience Points.]
"Experience for drinking water? I'll take it," he joked aloud, unsure who the audience for his humor might be in this bizarre scenario.
Continuing along the stream, hoping it might lead to civilization or at least to other signs of life, Simon's journey was interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves. He froze, memories of yesterday's predatory bird flooding his mind. Instead of a creature, however, a figure emerged from the trees—an elven girl, as beautiful as she was fierce, with a drawn bow aimed at him.
She spoke in a lilting yet sharp tone, her words flowing like a musical stream, indecipherable yet clearly filled with caution, if not threat. "Man tirion? Ma quanta sen sinta?"
Simon, hands raised in a peace gesture, replied, "I'm Simon. I mean no harm. I'm lost." His words felt foolishly inadequate as they hung in the air, untranslated and likely unintelligible to her.
Her eyes narrowed, not lowering the bow. "Queta marte, meril, utúlie'n aurë amin hiraetha," she demanded, her voice rising slightly in frustration.
[New Quest: Establish Communication. No further guidance available.]
"Not helpful," Simon murmured to the system, which remained indifferent to his plight. The elven girl's expression shifted between suspicion and curiosity, her bow still trained on him as she awaited a response he didn't know how to give.
With no common language to bridge the gap, Simon could only hope his gestures of peace would suffice to communicate his intentions. He pointed to his mouth and then shook his head, trying to convey his inability to understand her.
She watched him, her posture relaxing ever so slightly but her bow remaining ready. "Lambe n'vanima, mal ú-chenion le, mellon," she remarked, more to herself than to him, the hostility in her tone softening into wariness.
Simon nodded earnestly, hoping to appear as harmless and agreeable as possible. "Yes, no fool," he agreed, latching onto the one word he hoped was positive.
As the standoff continued, Simon realized that surviving in this world would require more than finding food and shelter; it would also mean navigating complex social encounters without the commonality of language—or the system's guidance.