You are not special. Honestly, that's the first thing you all come up with, and I don't know where you get the nerve. Let me tell you, I've done this thousands of times for millions of souls, and every one of them thinks they are destined to save the world.
Seriously?
If the world needed saving, there are plenty of experienced people on hand that could be tapped for that sort of thing. Why would we bring in a bunch of know-nothing scrubs to make up the numbers?
So, not special, at least not in the way you think. Things will be much easier for you if you get that through your head right now.
Got it? Good! Then we can continue.
The next thing that usually gets asked at this point is, "If I'm not special, then why me?" This is a remarkably stupid question that, perhaps, can only be topped by "what is the meaning of existence?" You are in no way equipped to truly understand either of these issues, so why ask?
But you will, you always do. The short answer is balance, and that answer in no way begins to explain anything. It has to do with souls. Surprise, you have one and it's eternal. Souls aren't supposed to be destroyed, but, unfortunately, sometimes in the world in which you now find yourself, they occasionally are. This creates a, for lack of a better word, vacuum, a void, that must be filled. That happens by drawing souls from a world with a surplus.
That's why you are here. You were a surplus. You lived a life in which you failed to live up to your potential. It was a waste. Whatever gifts or talents you had, you squandered them, and most likely you died young in embarrassing circumstances.
Had I mentioned that yet? You died. So, to answer the next question that a lot of you will have, there is no going back. Your original body has been destroyed. Mashed in to pulp by a large delivery vehicle, cremated by relatives who were horrified to see what was on your hard drive, eaten by the hundreds of cats who you thought were your friends, one way or another, your body is gone.
The good news is, you get another chance, a new life complete with memories, and, what you might call, a cheat. It's something of a side effect of crossing over. Because your soul is not indigenous to this world, you can't enter the cycle of rebirth naturally. We have to create a new body for you and plant you into it. This process will be influenced by your previous life and results in an anomaly, some effect not normally allowed by the laws of your new world.
Bad news time. It's not going to be as awe-inspiring as you think, and you will have to figure out what it is on your own. I'm providing this letter because I'm sick of the same questions and complaints that each batch of new souls has, so I am certainly not going to take the time to customize each message. Figure it out for yourself.
That should be the lesson you take from this message. You are on your own. You will be a little fuzzy from the transfer, so let me be clear, nothing will be handed to you, you're going to have to fight for every little thing, especially in the beginning.
The world you are now standing in operates according to different rules than you are used to. Magic, yes. Leveling, yes, and let me add that it's strange how many of you guess that without me having to mention it. Monsters, yes, lots of them. Strange places to explore and people to meet, of course. The world is what you make of it.
That is, unless you die quickly. Which is a very real possibility. More than half of you will be dead minutes after you read this message. This is the best outcome, really. It means your soul will be added to the cycle of rebirth and become native. Don't consider it to be an ending, and try not to cry too much when it happens.
For those of you that last a few minutes, there is hope. Safety is within reach, no more than a few days travel in one direction or another. I can't say which direction or exactly how far because your start point is random, and I don't really care. Your new body comes equipped with enough local currency to support yourself for a few weeks, unless you are robbed. And yes, you will be able to read and write in at least one of the most common languages for the area you are in.
That's everything. What? I didn't answer your questions? Too bad. The process which introduces you to the world is exhausting, so excuse me if I don't pander to a bunch of nobodies who should just be grateful they get a few more seconds of life, especially you, guy who fell off a ladder while his pants were down. You know who you are, you disgusting bastard. Or maybe you don't, some details get lost in the transfer, but I know and trust me, there are a lot of you who are getting better deals than you deserve.
Take a deep breath, everyone, it all starts… now.
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Name: (select one yourself, or don't and be randomly assigned one by the first person who addresses you)
Race: Human (this is the most common race in the area in which you now find yourself. For the next 24 hours, it is possible to change this setting, but it isn't recommended.)
Age: 12 (this is legally an adult in this world and therefore your starting point, mostly because small bodies require less energy and time to create.)
Class: None (It is suggested that you become eligible to hold one of these as soon as possible in order to survive)
Level: N/A (Select Class in order to activate)
Strength: .5
Agility: .5
Spirit: .5
(Final Note: the average attribute for an adult of most races is 1. You are now wondering if 12 is considered an adult, why are your attributes half that amount. The simple answer is that the Class System increases those numbers. Most 12 year-olds of this world qualify for a Class and receive the subsequent increase. It is suggested you acquire a Class as soon as possible. Every Class comes with Skills and talents that make it possible to survive. More Attributes can be unlocked once you have a Class and have leveled up. This ends the tutorial.)
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It wasn't the most promising start. There was a distinctly game-like feel to the whole situation, but, of course, he had never played a game that makes you feel yourself up to make sure the parts you expected to have were still there.
The boy studied his status page and blinked at it, as he patted himself down. He couldn't remember the name he had once had. That must be one of those details the tutorial message had mentioned might be lost. It was an odd feeling to have to give yourself a name. There was an impulse to give himself one of the ridiculous monikers you would hang on a game character, but the thought of having to live with being called "Turd Thurdlton III" wasn't very attractive in the current situation. It wasn't very clever even in a game, and if all of this turned out to be as real as it felt, then he needed to take it seriously.
Where did that leave him? Was he a Jack? Bob? Willard? Nothing felt right, and it was probably the least important thing in the world, but the tutorial said it was possible someone else might name him by accident, and he didn't want that.
But there was also the possibility that he would give himself the wrong name. A name that didn't make any sense for the culture he found himself in, or that had horrible connections to a universally hated figure.
He shook his head to clear it and tried to banish his status screen with a thought. The blue, transparent screen continued to hang in front of him, resistant to his every effort, no matter how hard he squinted his eyes and thought at it.
Eventually, he noticed the ~ symbol in the upper-right corner. Reaching up, he tapped it with his finger and the status screen became a streak of light that landed on the back of his right hand and vanished, leaving behind a small blue circle.
He stared at the mark for a long moment, and then reached out with his left hand and tapped it. The same streak of light appeared and rushed outwards, unfolding to reveal his status again. He tapped the close symbol and watched it disappear. He repeated this cycle five times while wondering if anyone could see his status while it was open, or if anyone touching the blue mark could make his status appear.
He only stopped when he remembered the words from the tutorial message.
"… more than half of you will be dead moments after you read this…"
He wasn't safe. His confusion and distress were not helpful, and the reason most people died in this situation was almost certainly because they were focused on the wrong things.
He closed his status again and scrubbed his face with astonishingly small hands. He was small for 12… or maybe not. Perhaps all 12-year-olds were this small. It had been a long time since he had even considered what the proper height for that age was, but he felt tiny.
It didn't help that he was in a forest, surrounded by trees. Old trees by the looks of things, tall, and wide enough that it would take several grown men standing with their arms spread and fingers touching to encircle them. Light filtered through their leaves and branches to illuminate a forest floor filled with soft, spongy moss.
The air felt thick with humidity, and the boy wiped his forehead with his sleeve. He turned in a circle as sweat dripped down his face, despite his efforts.
The view was much the same in all directions. Tall tree, surprisingly little underbrush, and he was tempted to call it a friendly looking forest, one that would be easy to travel through. There were thick roots poking up here and there, but few thorn bushes to grab at the clothes or sneaky vines to trip the feet. It had the look of a well-kept park, somewhere to go for a walk, maybe have a picnic.
"Except," He said out loud, slapping his palm against his cheek, "it's filled with monsters and snarky entities. Entities who kidnap souls and dump them in the middle of nowhere with little information and no help, trapping them in the bodies of small children."
It wasn't a hard slap, but the hand hitting his face, woke him up. He needed to move, find a safe place to think. He didn't know where safety was, but for temporary shelter, any direction would do. He started walking, while patting himself down again.
No weapons, or tools, just a green cloth shirt tucked into brown trousers, which fell over soft leather boots. The trousers were held in place by a simple belt and on the belt was a pouch, containing what felt like coins, judging from the quick squeeze he gave it.
Presumably there were enough coins in that pouch to get him started if he found a place where currency was relevant. For his current situation, he would have preferred a knife or some kind of fire making tool. The message had said he was no more than a few days travel from a town or city of some sort, but without food and water, was it possible for a child of 12 to survive traveling for days?
He felt a sudden impulse to start running and shoved it back down. Running was a waste of energy. Hiding was what he should do now. His feet made little noise as the padded along the moss covered ground, searching for anything of use.
He tried to stay calm, to move methodically, yet, his breath soon became labored from tension. Filled with an increasing sense of dread, when he spotted a hole beneath the tree roots large enough to crawl into, he dove into it without thinking.
Once inside, he had time to think about how bad it would have been if the hole had been occupied by an animal as big as he was, but for now, luck was on his side, and the hole was empty. In fact, once he was inside, he realized it was less of a hole and more a depression under the roots. With branches and some moss, he might be able to make a kind of shelter that would at least keep him out of sight. Laying flat on his stomach, he scanned the area looking for anything of use.
Little by little he spotted and gathered branches, darting out to grab them and dragging them back with quick furtive sprints. Blocking the gaps between the roots, he dug out moss and dirt to pile on the outside, enlarging the interior while trying to camouflage his hole.
The results were less than stellar, but after an hour of work he had a less cramped shelter that might escape a casual look. Tucked away inside, his body relaxed from a tension he didn't realize was holding him, and his brain began to work.
"More dirt, and plant things that will spread naturally instead of piling them on," he muttered to himself, wincing at the unfamiliar sound of his voice, "need water to make that work, though."
He scrapped at the ground, pushing the loose dirt towards the entrance until all but a small hole was covered. His mind kept turning over ways to improve his shelter as he tucked himself against the back wall to stare outside listlessly.
"Why is this happening?" He wiped his palms against pant legs, "how is this happening?"
The second the words were out, he snorted, remembering the message that had been left for him by an uncaring entity that he had never seen, "Because it is. What are you going to do about it?"
"Survive," He answered himself, carefully not thinking about how hard that might be. "Whatever it takes."
He tapped the back of his right hand and his status opened, easy to read even in the low light, though the page didn't cast any illumination in the hole. He stared at the Name section again and slowly said, "my name is Fyn."