A Gentle Paradise

Chapter 16

A Gentle Paradise

Leo jumped and aptly looked around--there were shadows dancing in the cover of the bushes and the trees... no, it was his mind playing tricks on him. Now that the system's mental-health-optimizer was gone, a bit of who he used to be back on Earth began creeping back in. He began walking about with much more care, paying attention to every sound--and as it was a forest, there were supposed to be _a lot_ of sounds... but there were none. It was eerily silent, like someone had plugged the nature's ambiance sounds off in the settings or something.

Until there was a sound.

Leo snapped his head around swiftly, his eyes meeting another pair curled up against a tree. It was a fox--an extraordinarily ordinary fox. It had four limbs, two eyes, two ears, it was fox-sized, a single snout, and was seemingly untouched by the bizarre ways in which the forest seemed to mold animals. The only thing of note, perhaps, was that it had ashen-grey fur, but that wasn't terribly uncommon.

It stared at him silently for a moment before whipping around, its fluffy tail moving in an almost bewitching way. As it began to walk away, it stopped and glanced back at him, as though to say Follow me. And though Leo really did not want to follow it, he felt it wasn't exactly a choice or a request, and was more of an order.

Thus, he stepped forward, wondering what hellish unknown the little, ordinary fox would bring him to.

The fox wove through the trees like an experienced guide--there was no pausing in its steps, no hesitation, no stopping to look around. It seemed to know where to go and how to get there. And Leo simply followed in silence. He didn't know where they were going, but he was desperately mapping out the direction, just in case the fox abandoned him randomly. After all, weren't foxes known as mischievous little devils? What if it simply dragged him into the depths of the forest and left him there to die? Just to laugh at him? He must learn how to get back home, then!

Within minutes, they reached an area that he was entirely unfamiliar with. The green and brown trees were swiftly being replaced by the white-barked birch, tall, thin, and overgrowing, while the grass beneath yielded to harsh, twig-filled bushes that all had thorns on them. While the fox skillfully navigated past it all, Leo struggled. In fact, at some point, he began to inwardly cry as his favorite (and, more importantly, only) robes got ruined. 

But he followed, still.

The fox never turned its head again to see if he was following--whether it was because it knew that he was, or whether it was because it simply couldn't care less if it tried, Leo couldn't possibly fathom. All he could do was follow, and hope that it was worth it.

Some twenty minutes later, light broke between the trees and blinded him for a moment as he tore his way through--on the other end, as forms gained edges, colors, and shadows, he stopped and found himself breathless. 

Laid bare before him was nature in its most primal, most untouched, most beautiful. A round 'canyon' extended out at a slight slope, a rushing river cascading over the edge and turning into a waterfall. The coalesced droplets of water fell rapidly and freely, here and there interrupted by the seams of the protruding, smooth-surface stones. The waterfall fed into a small lake at the bottom of the canyon, indented against the surrounding rocks. All along the canyon's walls, colors could be seen; there were trees hanging from the side like climbers hanging on tightly to the jagged rock, beautifying the panorama of perfection.

Between the trees, herbs, flowers, and vines sprouted in droves, yet none were overlapping. It was as though there was a divine hand orchestrating everything, and ensuring that every individual life had a box of its own to exist within. In addition to them, protruding from the sides were platforms upon which Leo could see animals--some winged and some not--lying down lazily, sunbathing. It was also then that he noticed that the thick canopy of the trees above vanished.

Instead, there was a wide, circular gap above where he could clearly see the sky. It was without a blemish, blue and cloudless, with the round, burning sun hanging high above. 

Looking back down, he saw the fox standing on the edge, staring at him. Leo smiled and walked up, sitting down on the edge, legs hung over. 

"It's beautiful," he said solemnly, his eyes dancing between the colors and shapes below. There was a flower near the bottom that opened up and closed every seven seconds, spitting out colorful vapors that a band of strange-looking sparrows would sweep through and eat up. "More beautiful than anything else I've seen in my life."

Leo was honest--he'd seen almost everything the Earth had to offer. He'd been to all the tropical islands, all the exotic (and safe) mountains, the jungles, forests, beaches, old towns, new towns, villages, marshes, fjords... but nothing inspired in him life quite the way current sight did. 

The low humming of the birds concocting a symphony, the distant rushing of the wild water liberated from the insidious hands of men, the untouched trees swaddled by the warm winds, the flaps of the wings, the gentle snoring of the slumbering. The world was a song, each piece an instrument of creation, and he a privileged soul deemed worthy of a listen.

"I didn't read much, in my life," he continued, ripping out a blade of grass from nearby and playing with it. "Always felt it a waste--figured, stories in words are for those who can't afford to live them. But, I liked reading quotes. Like ripping out a tree from the painting of a forest, trying to understand where it came from. 'The earth had donned her mantle of brightest green; and shed her richest perfumes abroad. It was the prime and vigor of the year; all things were glad and flourishing.' For the first time in my life... I sort of get it," he chuckled, tossing the blade of grass into the pit of life. "Thank you," he turned toward the fox who'd sat down by his side, tucked its rear legs under its fluffy tail, its head lowered until Leo called out to it. It looked up and at him, its curious eyes seemingly having softened ever so slightly. 

He reached out and gently petted it. The wariness in its eyes seemed to have disappeared as it closed them, seemingly enjoying the head rubs. At the same time, a strange bird suddenly lunged from the hole--its feathers seemed almost translucent, like glass, refracting light in such a beautiful way that he almost wept at the sight. It was no larger than an average eagle, yet its majestic form made it seem as though it was looming over the world. 

It gently flew over and landed on his lap, collapsing the wings and looking up at him. It opened its beak suddenly and extended its tongue--that thing went out for nearly ten inches, terrifying Leo ever so slightly, but what calmed him was what he saw on top of the blood-red tongue: flower petals. He gingerly picked them up and, when the last one was in his hands, he got the final confirmation that he was yearning for. 

[10x pieces of Dawn Lotus Flower have been acquired]

[Congratulations! You have (somehow) managed to acquire all the ingredients necessary to concoct Origin Restoration Gel!]

[--Update: a small hut has been constructed at your home base with all the tools necessary to concoct medicine. You cannot use it for anything else. It will last 10 days. In order to make it permanent, please gather the following items]

[Medicinal Hut: 150x pieces of wood, 400x blades of grass, 30x vines, 30x pieces of processed lumber, 2x pieces of iron ore, 20x buckets of water, 15x buckets of mud]

<Please return home to proceed with the quest.>

Leo sighed, wondering when the days would come where he'd have no missions to think about. He also wondered just how surprised the animals were to see a building appear out of thin air, though, on a second thought, they'd seen him do it before, so they probably thought it had something to do with him. 

"Thank you," he looked down at the bird. "Everyone here is so nice. It's like the total opposite of a life I'm used to," he petted the bird as gently as he could. Despite it looking like a strange kind of glass, it was quite soft and silky to the touch. 

He lost himself in the moment for a little while, letting it all coalesce. There was something about this world that was strangely liberating--not in the misguided sense of 'let us abandon modern convivences and live in the woods like savages', but more so that in abandoning all the conveniences, he also abandoned all the chains and ropes. However, he was no fool--he knew well enough that if it weren't for the system, and if it weren't for extremely friendly and forthcoming (and, most importantly, very cute) animals, he would have long since died.

The only reason he has a body capable of enduring the life of a forest is because the 'system' gave it to him, in addition to the animals feeding him things that strengthened the body. Without them, he would be nothing. 

With them, though, he was free--in the most primal sense. 

Or, perhaps, he was simply fooling himself into believing this as, otherwise, his mind would break. It wasn't as though he wasn't free on Earth, either--he had less than zero obligations. At some point, both his mother and father stopped expecting anything from him. They simply made peace with the fact that he would squander wealth and never achieve much... and they let him be. 

It was difficult, finding himself--he never had to do it before in his life. From the cradle, he'd been dubbed a nepo baby, and he lived his life as though desperate to prove it right. His actions almost felt predetermined at times, and it often felt as though the world was goading him into doing specific things for the sheer ecstasy of validation.

There was nothing of the sort here, however. There was nobody telling him how to live, how to behave, what to do, and there was no image projected onto him that he was supposed to live up to or tear away from. He was just a man, living in the middle of the woods, surrounded by nature's beauty beyond compare, and animals kind and loving. As for who he was meant to be... he could be anything. And though it was a bit naïve and childish, he wanted to be kind and helpful, at least in small ways. 

As the bird flew away and the fox scurried elsewhere, he stood up. Glancing down at the nature's cradle, he put it to memory, deciding he'd come back here at least once a month. Though his attempts at meditation have failed as he did not have the nerves for it, being here, in some ways, felt meditative. The sight seemed to have cleansed his mind and lessened his anxieties and worries. Perhaps, one day in the future, when he had long since left the forest, and maybe even had a family of his own, he would take his kids here, to this place, to tell them that this was where their father was born. As for whether they would believe him...

He chuckled at the thought, turning around and walking away. After all, there was a hawk desperately waiting for his help.