The Lone Macaw (1) – Chapter 12

Birdsong.

Twittering in the darkness.

At first the sounds alone were enough to make me wonder, but they had become my alarm clock in this new world. Even the once unfamiliar roof in front of my eyes was part of my home now. Days had become weeks, weeks had become months, and winter became spring.

It was time for the sowing.

Though to me, an inexperienced child of the cities, sowing presented itself no different from the harvest. Just more running around, hoisting things from one side of the field to the other, and long waiting times.

The seasons had changed, but my daily routine remained constant.

Early rise, checking the traps for hares, distributing my game, breakfast with Thea, cutting trees until my endurance ran low, and free time afterwards. Not that different from last fall. Although the meaning behind free time had changed.

"I'm off to the stream," I announced to Thea, leaving both the hut and the village behind me.

Back in fall, free time had only meant boredom. But that had changed after that night.

A muddled puddle. A place where people wouldn't start anything new. An entire village trapped in their gray everyday life. No hope for a better future. Thea's descriptions hunted me during the silence. Therefore I thought a lot during the endless winter nights. Anything to dispel these feelings.

I still planned to leave the village for Gladford. I still wondered what I would find when I traveled the world. But this wasn't a reason to >just bear with it< until spring. The villagers had welcomed me without question. Thea even let me stay inside her hut, cooked for me, and treated me like a brother.

Hence I thought how I could repay her. And arrived at my answer.

There wasn't much I could do on my own. I had neither special talents nor experience. And the knowledge I brought from the Earth contained nothing that would change this village.

Science? I couldn't remember those physics formula for my tests, so how would I remember them after a few months of sweet idleness? No chance. Same for medicine. The sick should go to a local drugstore and buy something against inflammation. Not helpful either. I had learned a lot in my school years, but nothing to such an extreme. All my knowledge only amounted to interesting anecdotes. They might guide me or allow for a unique perspective on this world, but life still happened over there.

Only my game knowledge provided a direct advantage. Just the existence of level and stats alone was a significant head start as it allowed for purposeful training and a faster rise in strength. And, as if to prove it, my level had risen once more this morning. Level 3 in just a handful of weeks. Laughable for gamers, but immeasurably valuable in this world. Each level increased my chance for survival.

But the crucial point wasn't the increase in strength itself. It was the way I took to become stronger.

I killed hares for a few weeks. Weak hares who didn't fight back. And now I was strong enough to survive an encounter with a boar or wolf. A steady way to more strength with no risks. As if I was a weightlifter training with 1kg barbells. Time alone sufficed. Time, the one abundant resource in this village.

The existence of skills and their training wasn't that impactful in comparison. It boiled down to repetition. A useful advice to exasperate people. And utterly useless to persuade them. Only the people who knew would believe. No chance for a village full of master warriors.

Compared to those personal benefits, the game's lore offered a broader view. Abandoned mines and dungeons, important NPCs and trainers, priceless weapons and impenetrable suits of armor. Even the general outline of the continent would be far-reaching to both rulers and merchants. But it was still useless inside this village.

A nameless village. Some other nameless villages in the vicinity. And an unimportant city as the beacon. Those were my clues. All of them useless.

Not all the game's world had been explorable. And even if there had been such a city in the game. Who would memorize all those names? That was the generic content all players skipped. So good luck remembering that.

In short, my knowledge had a lot of future potential. Earth shattering in the right situation. And worthless in my day-to-day life.

The village remained a muddled puddle. A place where people wouldn't start anything new. Where the daily grind dictated everything. And I stood here with nothing but my body.

And so I moved body.

Jumped into the puddle.

Began something new.

And the stale water rippled.

First the villagers watched in silence.

Then they talked.

One villager joined in.

A second villager followed.

Other villagers talked about different projects.

And started those.

Movement.

Slow and cautious.

But it was a change.

And Thea smiled.

While reminiscing about the last weeks, I arrived at the river, greeted the other villagers, and turned my attention to the scene in front of me.

An irrigation channel. Or rather, a ditch.

Nothing spectacular.

But a ditch I dug with my own hands. Literally.

At first, I used linen and wood to create makeshift shovels, but those broke fast.

Therefore, I borrowed a wide cloth, gathered some straight branches, jumped into the small hole I had created, and dug.

Place the cloth at the bottom of the wall, loosen the ground with a stick, push the soil onto the cloth, and carry it outside. A simple flow. A wasting flow. But it was my answer. If you can't think of something good, just move your body while you wait for it. No need to remain paralyzed.

And the reaction proved me right.

Today, with three other villagers, it became much easier. Two pairs working together, one loosened, one lifted, switching after each round. And companions had another benefit.

They saw me concentrating, nodded, and restarted their song.

"Away from my wife's na-a-gging,"

"We walk through field and wood."

"And even when we're fla-a-gging,"

"we leave the neigh-bor-hood."

"Helli-Hello, we're lea-ving, we go out with a twirl."

"Who stay may waste in grie-ving, while we pick the next girl."

I chuckled.

Given their age, all of them were married. What would their wives think about that song? Or rather, how long would their nagging last?

But I said nothing. Liveliness was better than heartsickness.

And so I continued, accompanied by some more, some less titillating songs, until sunset.

Progress was slow. Even the last 50m would take at least another month.

But it was progress towards a better future. More watering, more crops, more food. Even that minor project would change the village.

Baby steps to giant leaps.

I followed the path home, walked alongside the fields, and greeted the villagers who returned from their fields. No special topic, just small talk. And friendly banter.

I smiled.

It reminded me of my school days. My little group of friends. All those silly arguments about girls, cup sizes, and taste. The cheerful days before my final diagnosis.

The feeling of togetherness. To know your own place in a vast world.

Would this village became such a place for me?

"You're late," Thea complained as I entered her hut.

Yes. Maybe this could become such a place.

"I'm sorry. But I didn't want to leave first," I apologized. "And the others had too much energy."

"Is that so?" She looked at me with a scrutinizing gaze. "And here I thought you wasted time looking for the next girl."

I laughed. So she heard our singing that during her patrol?

"Don't worry. I will never leave you for another girl. After all," I reassured her. "I can't even twirl."

Thea laughed. Her atmosphere had become much more spirited during spring. As if the stagnancy had poisoned her mind, had smothered her vitality.

But now we enjoyed these moments of banter.

Our public displays had poked the hornet's nest and all the old women tattled about nothing but our future. A fond marriage, fresh blood for the village, children. One auntie even visited and gifted us a herbal soup to increase the chances for pregnancy.

But Thea and I weren't like that.

It was a simple dependency. Both of us would be alone without the other. And being alone was scary. So we just clutched at the other until we found an alternative.

"Elder Rolf came over," Thea informed me. "Something about the new house."

"Problems?"

"Don't know. But they worked on it when I came home, so probably just more questions and nagging."

"Hmm? That so? I'll talk with him tomorrow."

While my pair of hands wasn't enough to change everything, I still had my mouth to throw out ideas. Like the new central building. One with thicker walls and reinforced doors. A save hideaway for the entire village.

Thea's father got killed by a boar. One animal was strong enough to harm most of the villagers, so a group of weak monsters would destroy this village with no effort. Given my experience inside the game I might be able to keep them safe for a while, but… I couldn't stay here forever.

Hence I reflected on all the low-level enemies I knew and proposed a safe shelter to the elders. A home in which they could weather small raids from unintelligent monsters. Better than nothing.

And the elders agreed.

So they used all the logs I cut with my Heavy Strike to build its walls. And each day they presented a fresh problem or question to me. Was this wall good enough? Was that window small enough? Would this door hold? How much food should we store?

I enjoyed it. It felt good to be needed.

"Oh, and there's something else," Thea added. Though a lot less upbeat. "Elder Rolf said that the sowing is almost done."

"Hmm?"

"They need fewer hands on the fields. So tomorrow, we'll form a small group and start our travel towards Gladford. And as we agreed on in fall…"

She sighed, her eyes downcast. Unwillingness?

"He invited you to join us."