As the sun rose above the forest trees surrounding the cottage, I began my second day in this fresh world. Adapting to waking with the dawn is a significant shift from my previous routine, where I worked night shifts at a gas station to afford the essentials. My parents cover my college expenses and have purchased a modest apartment for me, which I'm in the process of renovating, while I pursue a degree in teaching.
Life had been straightforward; the routine of waking up and going directly to class was no longer a part of my reality. Tears started to form in my eyes. "Damn it," I silently urged them not to fall, "why can't I catch a break?" Being the oldest of three, my parents' busy work schedules during my upbringing meant they often didn't notice that I needed their comfort, even when I wasn't being troublesome. I found solace in the quiet, with only the sound of simple music in the background, a sharp contrast to the constant noise at my family's house. When I moved out, I think my parents, in a silent act of appreciation, gifted me the apartment. I had never really grasped what I wanted from life. The dreams were always present, but everything felt overwhelmingly effortful. It's difficult to explain, but I was just tired.
I rise in what may now be my cottage. Uncertainty lingers, but the voice did declare it my claimed space, so I accept it as such. With daylight revealing more of the room and the pain diminished, I observe its layout: an open floor plan clearly meant for a single occupant, featuring a bed in one corner, a table, a counter, and a fireplace. Built-in cabinets and a solitary door suggest access to another area, possibly a pantry or root cellar. Scattered about are a few items: a closet, a bucket, and a chest.
Approaching the bucket, I grasp it with the intention of tidying up the house. Carrying the bucket, I head to the nearby stream to fill it with water. On my way, I pause to inspect the garden, noticing more sprouts than the day before. The bucket weighs heavily as I trudge back to the house. I pour some water on the seedlings, silently wishing them strength and growth. With the door left open, fresh air sweeps in, improving the house's scent. Tearing a piece off the window's curtain, I use the water to clean the dust-laden surfaces of the quaint home.
Now that the surfaces are relatively dust-free, I've decided to try and start a fire for the first time to cook myself some food. I knelt before the cottage fireplace, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The stone hearth, surrounded by weathered timbers, felt both foreign and strangely familiar. This was my first real attempt to start a fire, and I could hardly believe I was here, ready to make it happen. I held the flint I'd found, its surface glinting in the dim light, promising warmth and comfort if only I could harness its spark. I gathered dried twigs and scraps of bark, arranging them into a fragile nest. Taking a deep breath, I struck the flint against a shard of rock, sparks dancing in the air like fireflies. With each strike, the weight of my old life faded, replaced by the thrill of the unknown and the desperate hope that I could summon the flame that would connect me to this new world.
The spark catches, igniting the small nest I had prepared, and as I add some logs I found nearby, a roaring fire fills the room with light. I grab the nearby pan, pour in some clean water, and then add the potato. As it cooks, I watch intently, the room filling with an earthy aroma, my stomach rumbling fiercely as I await its completion. I can't recall a time when I've been this famished; I'll ravage the poor potato as I fill my stomach. Once satisfied, I turn my attention to the mysterious door. Driven by curiosity, I approach and gently push the door ajar, peeking inside to discover stairs. But where do they lead? I cautiously descend, curious about where they lead; they open into what I'm certain is a root cellar. It contains some old, sprouting potatoes, yet there are still some usable vegetables. Deciding to leave them, I inspect the other items—some canned goods. It appears to be canned beans and the like, possibly some types of sauces or soups.
Leaving them behind, I ascend the stairs and settle into the old chair at the worn table. My gaze falls on the system screen, which materialized when the word 'system' crossed my mind. The sudden bright light startled me momentarily. In the top left-hand corner, there's what appears to be a mail icon. I press my finger against it, and several messages spring forth, ready to read them I start.
You have acquired 5 Magically Grown Potato's
Eating them gives you a boost of energy and gives back a small amount of mana.
You have eaten 1 Magically Grown Potato
Ah, that explains why I'm brimming with energy, as if I've had an energy drink. I stand up and head to the garden, deciding to channel this surplus vigor into tending the plants for some food. The air outside is humid, and the sun's rays warm my skin as I walk barefoot to the garden. It's strange; I was always one to wear shoes, but now, without a choice, I notice my bare feet upon reaching the garden. They're covered in dirt, the grass tickling between my toes, and the morning dew causes the earth to cling to them.
For the next few hours, I use my magic to grow more potatoes and attempt to apply it to the herbs and flowers I acquired yesterday. Mysteriously, it accelerates their growth but doesn't complete it as it does with the potatoes. Perhaps it's because they are magic-related plants? Regardless, I don't want to exhaust myself since I'm unsure of the consequences of depleting or running low on mana. Once I finish growing the potatoes, I have three dozen potatoes grown, lying nearby. I take the potatoes inside and store them in the root cellar over multiple trips.As the sun dips low behind the tree line, hunger nudges me back indoors. I return to the fireplace, placing some dry logs from the garden shed onto the still-warm coals. With a bit of tinder, the fire catches quickly, its heat now intense after a day spent under the sun's relentless gaze.
Feeling grimy while waiting for another potato to cook, the sweat from a hot day's work coupled with not bathing is uncomfortable. I've mentally added bathing to my to-do list for tomorrow morning. The potato was slightly undercooked this time, but I'm too tired; I just ate it and decided to go to bed early. I walk to the old bed, lie down, and quickly fall into a blissful sleep, exhausted from the long day. That night, I dream of a life of relaxation, free from office jobs or traffic. When I wake up the next day, I stare at the ceiling, pondering the future. Whoever sent me here provided little explanation, only the name of this world and the system I possess. What is a system, though? Farming? Does that mean I'm destined to farm for life, subsisting on potatoes and whatever else I can scrounge up? They mentioned beasts that would kill me if I ventured outside the safe zone, I'll need to find other nutrients.
I walk to the stream, bucket in hand, to fetch water and bring it back to the cauldron for heating—a necessary step for a wipe-down bath. As I clean myself, the desire for soap grows, and I ponder what I could trade for it in a nearby town. 'System'
Amelia Aspen GreenWood
System Type- Farming
L1 - 625\1000
Mana 250\250
Achievement
- Reincarnation: You are able read and write any language of this world.
Skills-
Gardener- L- 75\100
Beast Speak- L1- 0\100
Woodworking- L1- 0\100
Medium Heal- L2- 55\100
Crescere- L2- 88\100
Inventory
1 Old rusted sword
You have three low level Gift packs do you wish to open them? Yes\No
I glance at my screen and am surprised by a couple of things: first, the inventory reminds me of the sword I found in the river, which I had forgotten about. Second, there are gift packs, which I assume are rewards for leveling up my skills. I choose to open the gift packs by pressing 'yes'.
1 set of stainless-steel silverware
1 set of cotton clothes- 1 Chemise, 1 Bodice, 1 skirt
1 household Homemaking book
I received silverware but no plates, clothes for which I am thankful, and a book. Still damp from the bath, I hadn't put on my dirty clothes, so I donned the provided attire and now appear as if I stepped out of a historical documentary. Settling down, I begin reading the book, which offers excellent survival tips, teaching me soap-making, laundry cleaning, and cooking various recipes. Although it seems intended for a housewife, which I am not, the information is beneficial, so I can't complain. Over the next few hours, I follow the book's advice, starting with untucking the bedsheet to wash it along with my other outfit. I search the house for more fabric to clean everything together. Eventually, I find a large basket to transport the clothes and a quilted blanket. After washing the clothes, I hang them on the garden fence to dry.
I retrieve the potatoes from yesterday and add them to my inventory, setting aside six. Next, I cast the 'Crescere' spell to induce sprouting. Once each piece has sprouts, I proceed to plant and water them. Now, I have 21 potatoes growing. Judging by the sun, it's around 3 o'clock, and as I survey the yard, I notice a few items I hadn't seen before: a hoe, a wheelbarrow, and a woodworking table, identifiable by the tools upon it.
I decide to further enhance my skills to gain more gift packs. Given my current abilities, beast speak is the most viable option with the resources at hand. I grab my rusty sword; though it may not cut, it could serve as a makeshift club. Approaching the edge of my property, I scan for any animals. The sounds of birds and small creatures are present, yet none are in sight. Abruptly, an animal springs from the underbrush. "Stop!" I command, and the creature freezes, gazing at me from a distance of six feet. It appears to be a rabbit. I attempt to coax it, saying, "Follow me, I can offer you food," hoping to lead it safely onto my land for a conversation. It cocks its head, considering, then trails behind as I retreat to my property. Settling on a tree stump, I observe the rabbit maintaining a cautious gap. "Can you understand me?" I inquire, gauging its understanding. Remarkably, the rabbit nods and vocalizes a response that I comprehend, "Yes, I can," in a distinctly feminine tone. Astonished, I stare at the female rabbit and glance at my system screen.
Beast Speak- L1- 22\100
"Oh, my gods!" I exclaim, causing the rabbit to flinch. Quickly, I add, "I'm sorry, I was just surprised; I've never talked to a rabbit before," and look on guiltily. The rabbit then declares, "Not all can, but I can because I have been blessed by the forest protector." It looks up at me and blinks, adding, "It's rare for a human to speak to beasts; most cannot." "I possess the skill to do it; I've just relocated here and thought it was time to enhance my abilities. However, fearing I might be devoured, I brought along the sword," I admit, bending the truth slightly to conceal my reincarnation. The rabbit edges closer, remarking, "It's interesting; most have few skills, so it's surprising to think you haven't used one of yours at all." It then adds, "You mentioned food, human?"
"Yes, I have a human food called potatoes. I thought you might tell me about the forest and the droppings nearby; they're good for gardening, so I could grow more food," I explain excitedly at first, but then awkwardly as I mention the second part. "I thought I could offer you food in exchange for information," you suggest, hoping the rabbit will accept the proposal. The rabbit approaches even closer and remarks, "Sounds good, human," after which I offer the rabbit a potato.
As the rabbit begins to nibble on the raw potato, it suddenly starts to emit a bright green light that engulfs it. When the light dissipates, the rabbit has grown a foot taller and sports a horn on its head. With excitement, she exclaims, "I've leveled up, human; this is good!" This makes me wonder, do beasts level up? "what does that mean for you how is that good" wondering how this is good? The female rabbit gazes at me briefly before speaking, "It enhances our intelligence, bestows skills, and alters our bodies to become stronger. This transformation occurs only when a beast is blessed with pure mana." She approaches until she is nearly at my feet. "Did you grow this?" she inquires. I nod in affirmation.
"I wish to trade with you in the future, human. This will be beneficial for me. My master has long passed away, and I have been stuck at that level for quite some time now," she declares. This statement raises more questions for me. When I inquire about this "master," the rabbit explains, "Yes, those who bless beasts with mana for the first time are considered their masters. If the beast wishes to stay with their master's family after their passing, they need to be blood-related, so the mana is similar."
So, having a helper myself is intriguing. I then ponder, "Are creatures that haven't been blessed not considered sentient?" The rabbit nods affirmatively and declares, "Indeed, those of us who have been blessed can no longer communicate with our kin unless they too have received the blessing." Eating meat does not mean harming an intelligent creature, a fact that brings relief. "To assist my garden, which animals could I enlist for help?" The rabbit suggests, "My master used birds to consume the insects off the plants, and I recommend spiders as well; they can be quite beneficial."
"Birds and spiders are interesting," I muse. "How would I bless them? Also, do you have a name?" I ask the rabbit. The rabbit shuffled about. "My master was a beast tamer; he simply utilized his skill. I presume you leave mana in the crops you cultivate, so some must be set aside for various beasts to consume, and my master named me Zily."