Dave, now a mere inch a way from death, heard a strange ethereal sound, he had no idea what it was but he hoped, it was his saving grace. With those last thoughts swirling in his mind, his eyes finally gave way, and he succumbed to the abyss of unconsciousness.
A translucent blob of light suddenly emerged from his corpse, silently hovering above his dead body.
[ PAIN LEVELS PRE-DEATH ABNORMAL]
[ACQUIRING INTRINSIC SKILL]
[SELF-REGENERATION]
[CONFRIMED]
[OPENING SPACE-TIME BREACH…]
[SUCCESS!]
[COMMENCING SOUL TRANSFER…]
[COMPLETED!]
The space directly above his corpse suddenly cracked and a dark void was revealed, perhaps because of the void's appearance, the surroundings too were partially destroyed. With great suction force, the blob of light, or should we say his soul, was directly sucked into the void.
And then, just as it appeared, it mysteriously vanished not leaving a trace of its existence, well apart from the destroyed surroundings of course.
In this night of Friday the thirteenth, Dave P. Diddy, was declared DEAD!
****
[Ascalon, One Year Post-Soul Transfer]
In a relatively small town at the outskirts of the Holy Kingdom of Fervonia, outside a small grass-thatched cottage at the porch, sat a youth of about sixteen years of age. The youth could be considered some-what handsome, with short dark hair topped with a straw hat and peculiar amethyst eyes that gave him a somewhat mysterious look.
''I can't believe it's been a year already, it feels like it was only yesterday when I died and came into this strange land.''
Dave now formerly known as North, muttered under his breath. He was pretty startled when he somehow woke up in a bed that wasn't his own nor did it look like a hospital bed, the surroundings looked strange and ancient, in addition to that he felt a little bit disoriented and overwhelmed. At first, he was lost on what kind of situation he found himself in and then in the midst of his confusion, a flood of unknown memories assaulted him. Painful, very much so. After the memory integration, he finally got the gist of what was happening to him.
At that time, North chuckled to himself, the absurdity of the situation finally sinking in. Transmigration? Really? He, North, the guy who spent some of his evenings glued to his computer screen occasionally devouring fantasy novels, had actually pulled off the ultimate power fantasy. Of course, it wasn't exactly how he'd imagined it. No overpowered protagonist status for him. Instead, he was stuck in this… well, whatever this place was, with a body that felt like it belonged to a deflated balloon. He'd always scoffed at the tropes – the overpowered protagonist, the harem, the conveniently placed cheat skills. Now, here he was, living the fantasy life, minus the overpoweredness and definitely minus the harem. Talk about a cruel twist of fate.
Not that he has anything to complain about really, since he did get a second chance at life. The body he inhabits now is of a farmer's boy, no parents, lives alone and grows medicinal herbs for a living. Hey, it might not sound like much but at least he is living a peaceful life in the town, compared to his old life where he was simply slaving away.
****
'I remember when I died I heard a strange notification sound, I initially thought I was being given a system but all my attempts at summoning it failed…' North was devastated.
All he had to his name was the herb garden and the small house his parents had left him. His parents, renowned herbalists, had ventured into the outskirts of town to collect rare specimens when they encountered a bergast, a monstrous beast akin to a direwolf. The encounter had been tragic, leaving him orphaned. He had since lived alone, tending to the garden his parents had nurtured, of course that all happened before he took over the original North's body.
****
Right now though, he was sitting by the porch pondering his situation whilst staring at the chicken in front of him. The chicken, I kid you not, seemed to be pecking at dog faeces, thrilled at having found food, quite peculiar that scene was.
North, ever since he died a traumatizing death back on earth, seems to have developed a vigilant and observant habit. He took it upon himself to first observe the townsfolks of Oakhaven and determine whether they were a threat or not. And after the first year this is what he had concluded….
'Concerning the Oakhavians…' He thought as he meticulously recorded his findings in a small notebook.
'Oakhavians have been living and farming in the far Farthings of the Holy Kingdom of Fervonia for what I presume to be hundreds of years, quite content to ignore and be ignored by the neighboring towns and kingdoms. Ascalon being, after all, full of many interesting things and creatures beyond count, Oakhavians must seem of little importance afterall it has been a while since they produced a great mage nor a great Knight…'
He continued after a brief pause…'The Oakhavians real passion, people have presumed, lies only at farming. A rather unfair observation, I myself being an oakhavian I can safely say that we have also developed a keen interest in brewing of ales and the smoking of pipe-weed. But where our hearts truly lie is in peace and quiet and good, tilled earth. For all Oakhavians share a love of things that grow.
And yes no doubt to others, our ways seem quaint. But today of all days it is brought home to me: It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life.'
He concluded, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he surveyed the small, but cozy, cottage. He might not have a system, the mythical cheat codes used in the countless novels he'd devoured, but he had this. A home. Simple, perhaps, but undeniably his. Even though he yearned for adventure, the thrill of the unknown, he realized that contentment could be found in the quiet moments, in the warmth of a hearth fire, in the simple joy of a hot meal. As the old saying goes, "Home is where the heart is," and his heart, for the first time in a long time, felt truly at peace.
****
He stood up and went inside his house, where he picked up a bag containing the herbs. The day before yesterday, he had received a commission from the town doctor to deliver specific medicinal herbs to her.
He closed the door and made his way to the town square. The town was relatively busy this particular day, seeing as how a mage was said to visit town tomorrow, possibly for the magic assessment test that happens every decade.
Mages, North quickly learned, were a breed apart. In this world, they were not merely powerful; they were revered, coveted, and feared. For they were the masters of Mana, the fundamental force that serves as the building block of all life. To wield Mana was to command the elements, to bend nature to one's will. It was a power both awe-inspiring and terrifying, a testament to the sheer breadth of existence.
He had gleaned over the specifics in his studies but it was all general knowledge. Not everyone can become a mage capable of wielding magic. This force seemingly chooses its wielders and grants them the gift of magic. Those born without the gift can only grit their teeth and go for the next best thing; which is becoming a knight.
'Tomorrow's assessment, I hope I pass, but even if I don't, I can still try to be a knight but just a little bit more let me enjoy the peace…' His mind occupied with these thoughts of the future, unaware that he already arrived at his destination.
Granny Willow's Remedies. The weathered sign creaked slightly in the gentle breeze as North approached, a small, comforting sigh escaping his lips. He slowly pushed open the door, the bell above it tinkling a cheerful welcome. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of dried herbs and soothing spices. Behind the counter stood a young woman, her blonde hair pulled back in a neat bun. Her skin was fair, almost porcelain, and a radiant smile lit up her face, instantly warming the small shop.
Her name, Abigail Harper, she is the grand-daughter of the town's doctor. With a wave she ushered in North and helped him with the bags.
"Great to see you again North, I take it this is everything?" she tacitly asked as she opened the bag.
"Right, a large order of sunroot and dewdrop, Ms. Harper." he replied unfazed by her beauty.
"This again, how many times do I have to tell you, drop the formalities. You and I have known each other since we were kids." She retorted with a frown.
'Only I'm not the North you used to know…' he lampooned inwardly.
At the moment, the backdoor opened and an elderly woman walked in. She glanced at the two bickering a small smile plastered on her aging face.
"North, lad, glad ye made it in time. Hope Abbie hasn't been givin' ye too much trouble. The lass has been frettin' somethin' fierce lately, the poor soul doesn't touch her food like she used to. Hahahaha, but seein' ye're alright, she'll be fine now." Granny willow quipped with a small laugh.
'I think you only made it worse granny…' North thought with a small sigh.
"Granny!! Don't be sayin' such things to North, I wasn't worried at all!" With a blush creeping up her neck, she scurried out of the room like a startled rabbit.
"That lass!! Anyways, North, I take it ye're excited for the assessment tomorrow, after all, yer future's on the line. Ye don't wanna be stuck here, do ye? I know I'm tired o' lookin' at ye, hahaha." Said Granny Willow.
"Granny," North chuckled, "it's no big deal. I like it here, though if I'm lucky, I must confess I do yearn to learn the ways of magic."
"I hear ye, lad. Good luck, the Lord knows ye need it, ye and Noir. Speakin' about Noir Is that lad still trainin', tell him not to push himself so hard. Even though I'm tired o' lookin' at yer ugly mugs, ye still are me boys," she joked, her voice laced with a hint of genuine concern.
"Oh, you know me granny, I'm tough as a boar," North chuckled, flexing his bicep with a grin. "And Noir? Well, you know how strong that lad is."
"Still, be careful would ya, lad. And here, this is the money I owe ye." Granny warned, thrusting five bronze quid into his hand.
North not being one to dilly-dally secured the coin in a small pouch and stored them in his pants pocket.
"I'll be heading out now granny. See you when I see you." He waved his hand as he approached the door. Before he left he heard Granny Willow wishing him a good day.
Granny Willow, ever since his parents died, had been indirectly taking care of North. As could be observed by the amount of money she gave him – five bronze quids for a couple of low-level herbs was beyond generous. The standard measurement of money in this world was as follows: 100 copper pennies equated to one bronze coin; 100 bronze quid equated to one silver quid; and 100 silver quids equated to one gold quid. Above that, there was platinum coin, a currency rarely seen by common folk.
While pondering this, North arrived at a house. At the backyard of that house the sounds of someone panting could be heard.
A very distinct voice came about.
"THEY DON'T KNOW ME SON!!!"