Finishing getting ready, she gave me a kiss on the cheek. Well, she taught me basically everything: how to write, pronounce words, the history of the world, how to be respectful, how to bow to a lord, and how to respond to one. She explained every detail and warned me: never mock or answer rudely, and, well, don't be an idiot — and I listened to her.
The year is 1221, I was born in 1215. One thing I know: when the Canon starts, I'll be damn old.
Our village was simple, but not like I saw in the games. Everything seemed organized, there were no people on the streets. And seeing the black sun, I knew I was in Nilfgaard. We walked, everyone greeted me — and my father. I just nodded, but my father laughed and shook hands with everyone.
To this day, I haven't used my "gacha" since I haven't been alone until now. We arrived at a forest full of trees, some cut down, some men were chopping them into firewood. My father put his hand on my shoulder.
"Son, this is where your father will teach you. Listen carefully: if you hear something, run. If you see something, run. If you feel chills and fear, run. This forest had a monster, but with the help of a witcher, they were eliminated. At least those mutants serve some purpose."
"Okay, dad. What do I do?" I said with my French accent, which I also liked.
"See those logs? The small ones, your job is to pick them up and put them there." He pointed with his finger to a cleared area where some young men were carrying them.
"Got it," I nodded. He gave me a head pat and left, and well, I went to work.
We live in a settler's village in northern Metinna. My mother says we produce wheat and firewood. I got there, none of the children talked to me or looked at me — everyone was doing their part. I stayed quiet, picked up the first log: heavy, I couldn't lift it. So I began to drag it. I expected laughter, but there was none — everyone ignored me as if that was normal. So I kept going: dragging the heavier ones and picking up the smaller ones.
After three heavy ones, my body was aching, but I continued. When I noticed, it was night. I was covered in dirt, body sore and stomach growling. There were no breaks, no lunch time — I went straight through. Looking at my pile: there were 10 light ones and 5 heavy. I sat down, and my father smiled at me, picking me up and we went home.
Arriving home, my mother gave me a bath. I didn't even eat, I went straight to sleep.
I woke up early — in my old world it should be 5 AM, since the sun hadn't risen yet. I sat on the bed, but already heard my mother making noise in the kitchen. I looked at the system:
[SYSTEM GACHA 1 FREE WELCOME SPIN
WHEN SPUN THE SYSTEM WILL INTRODUCE ITSELF
Y/N]
Well, my body was all sore. Damn, medieval times are tough — but it could be worse: like being a beggar or monster food. No complaining, I'm thankful to have a family in a decent village. I said "yes" mentally and:
[SYSTEM STARTING DRAW
GOOD LUCK]
It wasn't grand, no flashy signs appeared — it just started spinning and stopped.
[CONGRATULATIONS HOST FOR RECEIVING INVENTORY
JUST IMAGINE WHAT ITEMS WILL BE STORED
EXCEPT LIVING CREATURES]
[THIS SYSTEM HAS NO RANKING
YOU CAN WIN ANYTHING
EACH SPIN IS EARNED BY BUYING OR COMPLETING SYSTEM MISSIONS]
What the hell, what am I supposed to do with an inventory? They'll burn me if something disappears and appears out of nowhere! "Damn system, give me something else — I don't know, like Captain America's perfect serum, or no pain, or teach me fencing!"
It stayed silent, not answering me. I sighed — I can't even try using this, I don't know how mages are seen in this era. Well, let's work and try unlocking missions.
I went to the bathroom to relieve myself and then to the kitchen — there my dad was already eating. I sat down and my mother gave me bread along with tea. After eating, we went to work. Arriving there, my father went directly to his spot; I followed my way, starting with the smaller logs then on to the heavy ones.
And so my days went by working — the system didn't beep or display any missions. So I just kept going, getting used to it. By the end of what I assume was the month, my father gave me 10 Florins. After a month, my hair grew and my face lost baby fat. I turned 8 years old, 1.30m tall. My father and mother made what I think was a birthday party — but no cake or "happy birthday", we ate lamb: it was very good. And my father taught me to cut wood with an axe: the posture, how to swing, and the precautions.
To this day I haven't revealed my inventory and the system hasn't given me anything new; spinning costs are expensive: 300 Florins or Crowns. As time passed, I grew — always waking up early and working. By 10, my hair reached my back: it's straight, almost golden, slicked back. My black eyes were deep. I had a growth spurt that scared my mother: I'm 1.50m tall now. I don't know if it's normal, but whatever. Cutting wood, I started earning 20 Florins a month.
Our village sells wood and wheat — looking back now, Nilfgaard is amazing. Even though it's rough, we aren't slaves nor does a noble come humiliate us. As my father said: doing our part, we are fine — we work, earn, and live.
At night it's cold here, but when morning comes the sun warms things up. My skin seemed bronzed from the hard work — I even looked like I had abs. I was cutting my last log when I heard screams. My father was running with other men and focused on me:
"Drystan, run! Just run!"
I didn't think twice, turned around and started running. My father was already beside me, holding me by the waist. Not just one — several thundering noises shook the earth. We reached the village; guards opened a path. My father stopped and put me on the ground. I looked back: a trail of mutilated bodies, one man with his eyes gouged out and next to him another melting with a liquid.
What froze my soul: not one, but five monsters. They looked like huge, muscular beetles, with "horns" and spines on their legs. In my mind, just one name came: Kikimore. My stomach turned and I started vomiting. The villagers gathered; one man shouted:
"Monsters! We need witchers now! There's no way back!"
They began retreating — not just the soldiers but everyone. Even my father was shaking. My legs trembled; I sat on the floor. Fear froze me. How the hell are we going to stay here? Images from the game with villages full of monsters and destroyed flashed before my eyes. Flee, we have to flee! I stood up trembling and started heading home — I have to warn my mother and flee.
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