Forever

Salim briefly considered feinting obliviousness, although Fallon would probably approach him regardless. Deciding to take the initiative, Salim rose from the riverbank, ineffectively drying off with his hands, before marching towards the tree. His legs protested as he approached, and he hoped his rigid marching would hide most of his apprehension.

Reaching the target, Salim slowed, attempting to plant his good foot into the ground as he stared into the face of his consternation. Fallon stared back with wide eyes and a blank face, their similarities to Nadalie distracting him as he tried to keep up his nonchalant mask.

“What do you want?” Salim quickly spat out, kicking himself for the slight stutter that affected his voice.

“I am leaving.”

The words unbalanced him, throwing him off his game, as he didn’t expect that. As Fallon realized he wasn’t going to respond, they turned away, walking away from the river. Still confused, Salim called out to clarify his confusion.

“Why are you telling me? You didn’t do that last time.”

“You seemed angry at me, and as I have stated, I do not wish for conflict between us.” They curtly turned, stopping for a moment to answer.

“A little late for that.” Salim bit out, only to try and follow up when Fallon continued walking away.

“Look, I… This whole situation is complicated, I don’t want to fight, I’m not that mad, so please don’t go.” Salim in fact, wanted Fallon to leave, but he still needed to figure out how magic worked, and he didn’t feel like experimenting soling on his own

. It felt slimy to lie to Fallon, but he wasn’t too broken up about it, they had gotten his foot mauled after all. Fallon turned back to him, their face scrunched as they scrutinized him.

“Fine, I will not leave. Your antics have been entertaining so far.”

Salim wasn’t sure how to respond, and it wasn’t spoken with any malice or arrogance, so he decided to ignore the remark. Instead, he backed off, and start hunting fish, hungry after starving for several days, only able to ignore most of the hunger pangs with his large amount of [Resilience].

Going back to his abandoned campsite, Salim saw that several animals had come and gone during his absence. Any fruits or nuts he left had been picked through, even the shoddy leaf bowls hadn’t been spared. Several of the tracks in the dirt caught his eye, causing some alarm, as at least one large animal had gone through his living area.

Deciding to find another suitable location in light of that discovery, Salim slowly walked down the side of the river, keeping an eye on the lake as Fallon followed a good distance behind him. He had been constantly sneaking a glance at them, not content with letting them go unnoticed as he had done previously. The more he watched, the more uncomfortable he became; Fallon never stopped staring at him, even as sped up his pace to a light jog, they never stopped.

The few days that followed only caused more unease to build under the surface of Salim’s calm facade, especially after he caught Fallon peering around a tree as he attempted to fall asleep. Nothing had happened, per se, but the constant stare unnerved him. He couldn’t seem to give them the slip either, although trying during the night was a no got, the moonlight being a good deterrent to any escapades.

The only thing consuming his attention, besides his constant cycle of hunger and Fallon’s stares, was his experiments with the push spell. He was finally able to use the spell while multitasking, which he proved by skewering an unsuspecting fish while walking along the riverside. He was even able to test the maximum capacity of the spell, which turned out to be however much he could control at one given time.

The testing and eventual fish murder had resulted in solid skill gain across the board, along with a much appreciated level up, which he used to bolster his reserve and try and get rid of the stiffness he had been feeling.

Lvl. 15

Stats

Confirm

Might: 26

-/+

Finesse: 23 (28)

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Resilience: 49

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Acuity: 27

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Resolve: 26

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Depth: 20 (25)

-/+

Breathing a sigh of relief through the headache and aching joints, the stiffness in his knees was almost gone. The boost in stats was now like a tough exercise, the skin moving in an uncomfortable but natural way. He stood for a while before checking his skills, daydreaming about the power he could achieve solely through stats.

Skills

Arcane Shape (Class)

Lvl. 6

Take shape the forces of the other world.

Arcane Eyes (Class)

Lvl. 8

See true, the world beyond the veil.

Reinforced Channels (Class)

Lvl. 3

The lifeblood of a mage.

Learned Mind (Class)

Lvl. 4

A hungry mind is a healthy mind.

Arcane Navigation (Innate)

Lvl. 4

The mystic arts will guide you.

His skills had developed at a slow pace when compared to before level ten, [Arcane Eyes] being the fastest, as he constantly abused the skill for surveillance and survival. [Arcane Shape] wasn’t far behind, as he constantly experimented with a plethora of ideas that had all turned out to be failures but had given him improved control. He was still working on his casting speed, but was pretty sure that any improvements in that regard would most likely finish leveling the skill up to ten.

He had even found a neat way to utilize the push spell, generating force to reduce the pressure on his foot when he limped with it, basically allowing him to push off the ground with magic. It wasn’t perfect, and put a rather sizable dent in his reserves, but it helped train his skills while improving his quality of life. There were several other ideas, from flying to armor, that might be possible, but he just didn’t have the skill or experience to try them.

Unfortunately, his lack of progress on spell development was a bit of a downer that Fallon couldn’t seem to help with. When he had silenced his ego and ask for any help, all they could recommend him doing was to focus on what pulling meant to him. It was the same sort of nonsense advice that all the self-proclaimed self-help experts online told him to do when he was trying to fix his relationship.

His past relationship was another topic he didn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole, and he had to try and find something quick to stop himself from spiraling. Suffice to say, his self-pitying had not helped his progress in any regard. To distract himself, he spent several hours of the day trying to get better with his makeshift spears, which seemed to confuse the always watchful Fallon.

“Is just swinging the stick around going to make you better at using it? It does not seem like an application in the real world.” She spoke as he spun the branch with one hand, something he had learned because he thought it was cool when he was a kid.

They are not Nadalie, don’t even think about Nadalie. If I just answer the question, they will go away. Just answer the question.

“I’m training. Seeing as I have been dying or, nearly dying, I thought it might be a good idea to try and figure out how to fight back without the nearly dying every time.” He stumbled, and the spear clattered out of his hand, his foot making him wince in pain and grab his leg.

“Understandable.” An awkward silence filled the air as Fallon concluded the conversation without any follow up. Salim had come to realized that social pressure or embarrassment was something that Fallon definitely did not feel. He was almost sure that they weren't intentionally doing it, at least, although it didn’t make it any less uncomfortable, never knowing when was a good time to turn away.

The routine continued, as he trained with a limp leg having zero clue if he was doing anything correctly, while continuing his attempts at creating a new spell. Eventually, he had to face the fact that his pull spell wouldn’t be possible without a fundamental knowledge of mana, as he tried everything he could think of to extend mana around his body. So he switched to reinforcing his body with mana, trying to emulate [Reinforced Stamina] with a little bit more hope of success.

Dangerous as it was to infuse his limbs, especially since he was unfamiliar with human biology, his lack of progress drove him to experiment on a whim. He knew the effort nurses and doctors went to for education, but without access to the internet trying to improve his ‘arm’ without understanding muscles groups didn’t do much. Fallon had stated that technical knowledge wasn’t a requirement, but it felt antithetical for him to visualize magic without trying to break it down in scientific detail.

It all led to him practicing as much as he could with his push spell out of frustration, trying to make every small improvement count, as it was one of his sole advantage over the natural world. At least that's what he thought until a fish he was hunting managed to blast him in the shoulder with a pressurized stream of water that had left it bruised for days. The realization that animals could harness magic too made him severely cautious going forward, his fights with the insect and wolves seeming much luckier in retrospect.

He had also figured that Fallon was keeping the worst predators at bay, seeing as he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of anything more dangerous than the magical fish. At first, he had been slightly appreciative of the incidental benefit of not having to fearing for his life, however as the days went on, he noticed that he wasn’t gaining any levels. His routine of eat, sleep, hunt, repeat just wasn’t doing anything for his level and his skills gain had slowed down as well despite his constant practice with mana.

The cycle had made him comfortable, his high [Resilience] keeping him from starvation even if he didn’t eat for a few days, letting him fall asleep outside without too much difficulty. It was also making him incredibly bored, which even began effecting the ever enigmatic Fallon, who had seemed tired of his lifestyle as they stopped watching his every movement and would disappear from time to time. He still wasn’t comfortable talking to them, and their disappearances were just as concerning as the constant watch he had previously been under, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

He was never an outdoorsy person and the lack of amenities was getting to him, the bugs biting his skin every night and lack of toilet paper slowly making him wonder how he ignored it all in the beginning.

I guess I shouldn’t be discounting how terrified I was. Woe is me. He prattled sarcastically to himself.

All the boredom had led him to the cliff face he had thrown the giant zombie wolf off of, dangling his legs off the edge as he stared at the lake below. It was a gorgeous and stirred a sense of wanderlust within him, only to be put in its place by the logic of survival. Which was then superseded by his counterpoint of immortality.

Eventually, he made a deal with himself to go explore in a few days after he was able to confidently use ‘push’ while running, jumping, or even fighting. His ankle had calloused up to the point that, while still painful, could be used with slightly less than full function, which motivated Salim even more, fueling his desire to wander into the wilderness.

I can’t live for who knows how long in the middle of the woods with a limp leg, that just sounds like self-inflicted torture. I’m going to find a way to fix my leg, or I’ll die trying!

It did not escape him that he could most likely ask Fallon to do something about his foot, seeing as they seemed to take great interest in any injury he received, hovering closer to take a look at the effected area but never saying anything. But the idea of anything like the tree or even the moon tentacles attempting to fix his flesh sent shivers down his spine.

Definitely not worth it. He concluded.

So he stood at the smoothest incline down the plateau he could find, mentally pathing a way down as he began the descent. While Fallon had been off, who knows where, he had snuck away, making sure to keep a low profile as he traipsed through the woods. The last couple of days, he had focused on launching his rocks as he walk-jogged alongside the river, trying to hit fish with the small pebbles and improve his accuracy.

Technically, he was able to hit anything he could see that was within twenty feet, in practice he wasn’t completely accurate but was improving every day.

By the time he felt ready enough to head out, he was hitting the smaller fish that swam in the river about one in five times if he was standing still. He thought it was fairly good, especially since the fish would start swimming away from the rocks before they even broke the surface of the water. His skills even seemed to agree, with [Mana Shape] and [Learned Mind] both gaining a level, letting him know that practicing still helped, improving his moral.

Knocking his head with his palm to focus up, he made his way down the steep cliffside, using trees whose roots had fused with the rock to guide himself from outcropping to outcropping. It was exhilarating, knowing that if he slipped, it would be a very painful trip to the bottom. His hands gripped the stone, inching their way across tight gaps, thanking himself for increasing [Finesse] as he regained his balance in a particularly tricky section of decline for what felt like the seventh time.

Making a couple risky jumps, Salim tried to get down the mountain with as much speed as he could without falling, since he didn’t want to get stuck on the mountainside come night. His trip coincided with the new moon, to try and avoid Fallon’s attention, but he wasn’t sure how much it really helped. The moon was still there, invisible to the naked eye, and while the amount of mana sent towards the planet had decreased, he could spot faint wisps of the stuff drifting down with his [Arcane Eyes].

Thankfully, he was able to find a small cave in the side of a large outcropping, allowing him full coverage from any prying eyes. Stepping into the cave, his nose was assaulted with a deep musky smell that filled his nostrils with a pungent dampness. Feeling a few patches of wet stone with his feet, he decided that the stay would be one night only, so that he wouldn’t catch trench foot or similarly nasty disease. Unfortunately, as he stepped further into the cave, he spied a large pair of eyes watching his advance.

Well. This was a good life. Resignation coloring his thoughts, pulling his spear from the makeshift sling he had fashioned on his back.