Return of the Woodcutter

Seated cross-legged by the fire, Aito furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at a small grey bead in his hand; a part of Valinar's inheritance he had been rewarded with after killing the Paineater.

Inside it, grey steam moved in a circle, forming a miniature spiral, with each particle—of whatever that steam was made of—vibrating as if it was alive.

At the center of the spiral was a small, faint heather shield, barely visible because of the poor light. Aito brought the still-lit candle just under the peculiar item and examined the floating symbol.

Suddenly, a notification popped up on top of the candle.

[Would you like to appraise the item? Yes or No.]

He pressed yes, and another blue window appeared.

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[Memory bead]

Type: Skill Transfer

Description: A bead made using a solidified soul fragment as the container for memories. Gives access to the knowledge and/or power of the bead's maker. Its perfect purity allows for an instantaneous transfer without after effect.

Application: Activation upon consumption

Purity: Perfect

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Restriction: Pass Valinar's Test of Acceptance

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'Soul fragment? Mana? Activation upon consumption?' He thought, looking at the bead less suspiciously than before. The candle's strange power helped to dissipate the doubts, but his habits of overthinking things kept him from the simple choice that was offered to him: Eat the bead to gain power.

He knew nothing of Iris and the various supernatural things it housed. But he knew that right now, he couldn't just spit on power he desperately needed—even if he didn't know what it was yet.

What's more, outside, a monkey army roamed the island. They might not dare descend in this cave, but he wouldn't bet his life on a possibility, a "what if."

Aito may come to regret eating this later. But for now, one thing was clear: he needed power to survive. Come what may after he was done with this trial.

One problem at a time.

There was less than a week left, at least from his understanding of time, and he couldn't afford any margin of error if he wanted to survive.

Thus, he brought the bead to his mouth, switched off the screaming part of his brain preventing him from eating an item of mostly unknown origin, and, before his resolve could crumble, swallowed the memory bid.

BING!

[Congratulations! You have gained two new skills!]

'Two?' He thought, before mentally ordering his status window to open. In the active skill section, two new lines appeared.

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- [New] Pneuma Lv1 (Allow the host to breathe in the surrounding life force to restore a small amount of stamina.)

- [New] Weight Control Lv1 (Allow the host to increase or lower the original weight of an inanimate object by 2.5 times)

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As per the previous notification window, he had no aftereffect whatsoever after ingesting the bead, which seemed to have vanished instantly after Aito swallowed it. He had felt it travel down his throat, but the feeling rapidly disappeared.

'Hum, interesting.' He thought, thinking about the myriads of possibilities those skills allowed while a stream of info passed through his brain system then spread to his entire body, creating links between his muscles, new knowledge, and something in his chest he did not comprehend fully yet.

Excited about his new powers, he took out a one-handed ax from his inventory, dropped the candle, stood up, and took a few swings to get a feel of its current weight.

Then, after a few moments of concentration, he activated his new skill.

—Active Skill: Weight Control—

A warm feeling traveled from Aito's bosom to the ax shaft and enveloped the entire weapon with no visual effect visible to the naked eye.

The overall weight of the weapon increased as Aito's wrist lowered slightly, more by surprise than the lack of strength required to wield the now heavier ax.

He smiled with satisfaction. It certainly required training to get used to it, but once he'd gain a feel for it, his destructive power would increase drastically.

However, he felt some sort of energy, unrelated to his physical stamina, draining him from the inside. After focusing for a few seconds on his weapon, he deactivated "Weight Control." Then, excited and on the spur of the moment, he activated his other new skill.

—Active Skill: Pneuma—

Some sort of cold, but comfortable, air entered his trachea and finished its course into his lungs. A rejuvenating feeling spread through his entire body, slightly alleviating his physical fatigue as he pushed white steam out of his mouth.

'Wow… that feeling is better than getting drunk, I could get used to it.' He thought, trying to activate it a second time when something painful in his chest prevented him from doing so.

Soon after, the candle's flame extinguished, and so did his pain.

He then remembered Valinar's quick talk about mana and the weird feeling that ensued. Following this train of thought, he concluded that activating skills required mana, and his current reserve might be empty or almost empty. Thinking back on his fight with the Paineater, he had used practically every skill in his arsenal to deal with the creature.

But he did not feel the drain of energy back then, or at least he didn't pay much attention to it.

'Does every skill use mana, or it's limited to some?' He thought, before sighing. 'Whatever, too tired right now to think about it.'

Aito's accumulated stress, mental and physical fatigue from those past few weeks couldn't be fixed by using "Pneuma." He stored his weapon back into the inventory and, in need of a good rest, laid by the fire.

He had been too curious about the remaining items from Valinar's inheritance to leave their discovery after his rest.

The Ancient Shard he had received was just some piece of rusted metal the size of his shield he couldn't understand the use of, even after using the candle to try to pry open the secrets it hid. But that only led to question marks appearing all over the blue window. Either the system didn't know about it or it was hidden for him on purpose or….

Aito yawned. 'Let's stop overthinking this. Too tired.'

The cave's darkness closed in on a man and an evol monkey as the fire began to fade. Aito fed it some dry woods and stared at the fluttering flames for a while. Their graceful dance, accompanied by cracking sounds and warmth, nourished his puzzled but also fatigued mind.

His eyes started to hurt because of the light, forcing him to shift his gaze elsewhere. His sleeping furry friend lying on solid rocky ground entered his vision.

An affectionate smile appeared on his face as he remembered the numerous life and death situations they faced together during those last few weeks. There was no denying that he wouldn't have survived until now without Jack.

If the small monkey hadn't been with him in his fight against the Paineater, Aito would have been as good as dead.

A slap, a single slap, had awakened his mind at the right time. It would seem meaningless to anybody, but to Aito, that slap had carried much more than a slight pain on his cheek. It had been an awakening.

His past, guilt, pain, torment, sin. The things he hadn't been able to come to terms with, became clear at that moment. Maybe it was due to the similarity it shared with his father's slap, a "technique" Tevari had often used during their training to bring back his mind to the current matter at hand when it wandered elsewhere.

All he knew was that his three and a half years of reflection on himself, after his father's death, combined with everything that had happened after his revival, opened his eyes at that moment on something he had missed all these years. Something he hadn't been able to comprehend, but already knew about it.

Understanding and knowing.

Knowledge could be sought after, using various data from different sources, but understanding was a different matter altogether.

For him, it had felt like his soul had fused with his mind as if his whole body came to acknowledge the notion of acceptance.

That simple yet complex notion of acceptance.

Even after killing his father, when he had spent a few weeks in a cell waiting for the court to decide his fate, with all the time in the world to reflect upon himself and his crime, he couldn't find acceptance, just disdain, and blame. Blame towards himself who had done the unthinkable, the unforgivable.

What happened after those few weeks did not help his case, either.

He sighed before closing his eyes and the book of his memories, cursing those days filled with corrupted people and that asshole of a captain.

And, finally, after weeks of constant nightmares, nursed by the fire's warmth and the presence of a friend he could count on, his consciousness faded to nothingness.

To a dreamless sleep.