Luca woke with a rough groan, peeling one eye open as the cool night air brushed across his face. His limbs felt leaden, slow to obey, and for a fleeting moment he couldn't remember where he was. Then the faint creak of the cart's wooden frame drifted through the clearing, tugging the memories back into place.
He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm, blinking away the haze before noticing movement at the far edge of the clearing.
His friend—his newly made brother—was crouched low in the weeds, hands and knees sunk into the dirt, furiously rummaging through the patches of grass with a strangely intense determination. Luca hopped down from the cart, spotting the old merchant sitting a short distance away, cross-legged beside the fire pit. The man stared just as blankly, clearly baffled by the scene before him.
Their gazes met, and they exchanged a quiet nod of acknowledgement.
"You rested well," the merchant said, scrambling for a bowl and offering it with surprising haste. "Eat it, otherwise you might not be able to sleep again for the night."
Luca approached, hesitating before taking it, but the man practically shoved the food into his hands before adding, "Is… uh… is he alright?"
The merchant rubbed the side of his nose. "I was hoping you'd tell me."
Luca shrugged, half-joking and half genuinely unsure. "He got hit in the head pretty hard recently, so his behavior's been a little… erratic." He sipped from his bowl. "Though he's being even more unusual right now."
Treiton hadn't noticed a single word between them, too absorbed in tracking down every strand of Cinderleaf he could find. He moved with single-minded focus, leaving only a couple stalks behind in each patch but gathering nearly all the rest from the clearing.
A few seconds later, he finally straightened, triumph glowing in his eyes and an entire handful of herbs clutched tightly in his grip. Small flecks of dirt freckled his cheeks as he marched back with purposeful, almost soldier-like steps.
He lifted the cluster of stalks and cleared his throat. "I, uh… have a bit of talent for identifying plants," he announced, attempting—and failing—to sound casual. "Figured I'd repay the favor for treating me." He held out half his gathered herbs.
The old man blinked at the offering, then let out a low, warm laugh and waved both hands quickly. "Please, boy. Keep it. I could buy several bundles at the market for what you've already paid me. No need to strip the forest bare on my account."
Treiton lowered the bundle slowly, not insisting for even a heartbeat. Instead, he simply settled down, forming a loose triangle with the other two around the flickering fire. The old man lifted a wooden jug shaped like a pot nearly the size of his head, and extended it toward Trei.
"Drink?" he offered.
Treiton shook his head with polite firmness. "I'll pass." He had no personal quarrel with the vice, but he preferred to keep his mind sharp out in the wild.
Luca nearly choked on the remnants of his meal. "You're refusing alcohol?!" he sputtered, wiping his mouth with the sides of his hands.
Trei only shrugged, brushing it off with ease. "No point in repeating my mistakes, right? It nearly got us killed."
All he received back was a quick, begrudging, "Huh. I can't disagree; I guess."
Still, Luca took the jug anyway, swallowing a quick swig before passing it back. The group slipped into quiet conversation while Treiton chewed thoughtfully on Cinderleaf, exchanging names and the usual pleasantries. The merchant introduced himself as Gavis, explaining he'd been a trader since childhood, apprenticing under his father.
Trei also collected additional information through his blessing:
[Name: Gavis. Strength: 1.2, Agility: 1.11, Stamina: 1.0]
Could 1.0 be the baseline for most adults? he wondered, which if true, made Luca's numbers even more impressive. Still, with a sample size of only four, it was nowhere near enough to draw firm conclusions.
When night had truly settled and the world around them sank into a deeper quiet, Gavis stretched his arms with a weary grunt and set down his half-emptied jug. "You two ought to rest," he said, voice thick from drink. "My guards'll be catching up in the morning."
Treiton's brow twitched, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "Thought you said you rarely had company?"
Gavis paused for a heartbeat, then chuckled, the sound low and loose. "Aye, well… this trip's a little different." He leaned in closer to the two boys, his face flushed and softened by the fire's glow. "Got myself some real valuable cargo this time. Extra protection is needed."
There were several goods piled in the back of the cart, so Treiton supposed it made sense. And a bit of additional protection didn't leave him uneasy. He chewed another leaf idly, feeling the familiar drop of his Integration value.
Ten stalks left. Should I keep them for tomorrow? I'll only have to wait a little after waking… He stuck another leaf in his mouth only to spit it out instantly.
[Danger Instinct activated. Abnormality in host body detected. Recommendation: Cease intake of nutrients.]
He let out a short, sharp breath. "Yeah, yeah," he whispered, lowering himself to the ground. "I was stopping anyway." And truly, he knew he should. He wasn't some naïve child unaware of the word overdose. In fact, the blessing's timely warning left him relieved rather than irritated.
With that reassurance, he closed his eyes, comforted by the knowledge that his Preservation Instinct would renew completely when he woke. And with his Integration sitting at eighteen percent, the same renewal would follow for it.
He allowed his eyes to drift shut.
[BZZ—BZZ—BZZ!]
"Ughh… that damn alarm." Trei rubbed at his eyes groggily, greeted by a faint, hay-scented ember flickering nearby. Instinctively he reached out an arm, searching in the fog of half-sleep for the source of the noise. Where… Wait. Oh. The memories resurfaced, sharp and unwelcome.
"No, they should be asleep for a while longer," Gavin's voice whispered somewhere ahead.
[BZZ—BZZZ!]
I get it! Triton shouted inwardly, too tired to bother sitting up in the darkness surrounding him. He had never been an early riser, but he suspected that unfortunate habit was about to change. He wondered briefly if the alert would always come the moment he was able to train or "preserve" himself again. Just tell me what's up, please.
Heeding his silent demand, an alert echoed crisply in his mind:
[Danger Instinct activated. Strong creature detected. Recommendation: Hide.]
"Hide?" he muttered under his breath, barely audible even to himself—then his ears sharpened, catching hushed voices behind his back.
"It was still idiotic. Leaving messages on the road like that. What if someone else found it?" a man murmured, his tone low and annoyed.
A woman's soft chuckle followed. "Couldn't have been that idiotic. After all, we're here now."
Gavis' voice came next, amusement laced through it. "I thought it was a nice idea, but I suppose I was reckless. Either way, I suggest you take them away quickly. Hale doesn't smile on those who dabble in this trade."
"Right," a third man said. "Then here's your pay… You're sure you won't be needing protection? There's no return on our fee."
He's selling us! Trei realized, his fist balling instinctively, but still, he didn't move. He didn't need to glance back to know running was pointless. Two grown men could snatch him up easily. They wouldn't struggle in the slightest with an average fifteen-year-old, especially one who still carried softness around his belly and thick, untoned limbs.
The jingle of a coin pouch passed from one hand to another cut through the night. Trei waited, silently sifting through any possible way to escape, bitterly aware of his own foolish trust. This wasn't a world where strangers offered kindness freely. It was a time period where survival ruled everything.
No walking to grocery stores. No indoor, air-conditioned hobby centers. Nothing convenient or safe.
It was primitive.
But he didn't dwell on it any longer than necessary, only long enough to carve the lesson into his mind before discarding any lingering self-pity. Before the strangers could approach, he pushed himself upright.
The movement drew their attention instantly.
Gavis stood beside an exceptionally large man, the two of them in the middle of a handshake. The newcomer's beard was thick and unkempt, and his muscles bulged beneath his clothes, his frame standing three or four heads taller than himself. All three strangers blinked at Treiton, clearly surprised to see him awake.
"I thought you said you drugged him," the giant rumbled.
"I—I did," Gavis stammered, nervously slicking his grey hair back. "Though, it shouldn't be an issue… should it?"
The woman behind the massive man shook her head, her tone sharp. "If he screams, it might."
There was a fourth figure in the group as well, though far less imposing than the leader. With a quick thought, three shimmering holograms appeared in Treiton's vision.
[Name: Unknown. Strength: 1.4, Agility: 1.41, Stamina: 1.3]
[Name: Unknown. Strength: 1.3, Agility: 1.44, Stamina: 1.22]
[Name: Unknown. Strength: 2.3, Agility: 2.1, Stamina: 2.1]
Impossible. That was his single, immediate conclusion. Escape was impossible.
At the treeline behind them, a faint glimmer of orange broke through the branches, the early hints of dawn signaling the night's slow surrender. Treiton raised his hands in surrender. "I won't scream… What's going on here?" he asked. Maybe it was the cold, steady assurance of the blessing that kept him calm, or something deeper threading through him, but his heartbeat didn't even spike.
Gavis gave a soft, grandfatherly smile, the exact same expression he'd worn when offering him soup earlier. "Did you have a good rest, my young friend? You'll have to forgive me. I won't be offering my hospitality any longer. Please go with these friends instead."
Treiton glanced to the side, spotting Luca still sound asleep, then shifted his attention to the strongest of the group. The towering man who radiated threat effortlessly. "You won't hurt us?" he asked.
A dark chuckle rolled out of the man. "Not unless you give me a reason to." He spoke openly, without the slightest attempt to hide the intent behind his words. "What good would damaged merchandise be?"