The stream sang softly in the background as morning mist curled between the trees. Kai's eyes cracked open to the pale gray light. He had woken before his mother again—something that had started happening more often since awakening from near death.
It wasn't that he needed less sleep, exactly, but there was a restless current in him now, like the forest itself was nudging him awake.
Asha stirred beside him, rubbing her eyes. "...Morning already?"
"Mm."
Kai sat up, stretching his arms. The joints popped quietly.
He scanned the treeline out of habit, ears tuned to the subtle rustle of branches and faint birdcalls. The sounds felt layered now—like he could almost pick out each creature, each shift of weight on bark or leaf litter.
He didn't hear howling anymore, but that didn't stop him from choosing to leave. Better to be safe than sorry.
Asha caught him scanning. "Still playing lookout, I see." She reached for the basket, brushing fallen leaves off the woven lid. "I'll carry this."
"You don't have to. I can—"
"I'll carry it," she said, not unkindly but in that tone that meant there was no argument. "You keep your eyes open. I'm not of much use so the least I can do is carry our supplies. That's our best defense right now."
Asha knew how strong and fast her son was so it was better for him to travel unencumbered so that he could react to things in time.
Plus, if she let him carry all their stuff too, she felt she would be truly useless dead weight and she refused to place any more burden on her son.
Kai sighed but didn't push it. She was right. He focused on keeping watch and fighting while she could handle supporting him from behind.
They ate a light meal of fish and berries before dressing and fully equipping themselves for the journey ahead.
He slung his spear over his shoulder and adjusted the straps on his waist. He had a wooden flask, his dragon scale axe, and four stone knives on him, two at his waist and one each on each leg.
He gave the sharp obsidian knife to Asha since he already had the scale axe.
She refused at first, claiming that he would have a better use for it, but he insisted since he wanted her to at least have a decent weapon to defend herself with.
They set off downstream, keeping the water's gentle murmur within earshot. Kai led, treading carefully, eyes flicking from shadow to shadow. It wasn't paranoia—his instincts had saved them from more than one close call lately.
A sudden shift in the wind. The hush of insects that should have been buzzing. A barely-there tremor of pawsteps behind a thicket. He could feel it now, before he even saw or heard the threat.
The days blurred together. Sometimes they slept high in the crook of a massive tree, swaying in the wind. Other times they found caves with dry floors, or hollows in ancient trunks where they could curl up together and listen to the rain drum outside.
Kai would occasionally hunt along the way while Asha foraged for edible plants and fruits. With their combined efforts, they didn't have to worry about not having enough to eat.
When tools broke, they would make new ones. When clothes became worn, they would patch them up.
As the environment changed, they would adapt to it and create tools as needed.
The deeper they went, the more the world seemed to come alive. Vines thick as ropes curled around trees older than villages.
Strange birds with jeweled feathers flitted between glowing fungi.
Herds of deer-like creatures drank from clear pools, unafraid until they caught the scent of the two travelers.
But there was something else—something stirring inside him.
At first, Kai had chalked it up to recovering from his wounds, but the feeling didn't fade. It grew. It was like a slow, steady thrum under his skin, a quiet heartbeat that wasn't quite his own.
Sometimes it was faint, sometimes it swelled until it felt like the air itself was humming through him.
On the seventh night, sitting beside a fire of smoldering twigs, he finally asked, "...What exactly was that thing that merged with me?"
Asha looked at him, expression unreadable in the firelight. "I don't really know."
"You don't know?"
"I mean—" She frowned, poking the embers with a stick. "I've never seen anything like it. I told you before—when I found you, that tree wasn't just alive. It was… different. It didn't grow in that place by accident. And whatever it gave you, I can't explain. I can only tell you what I saw."
Then, Asha began describing in as much detail as she remembered about the tree and the little fairy attached to its outstretched branch.
The vibrant pink leaves. The oddly pale trunk. How it seemed to sway without wind.
She even recalled how she broke down and cried in front of the tree, but she elected to leave that out of her story. It was a bit embarrassing after all.
Kai leaned back, staring at the flames. In his mind's eye, he pictured the strange tree, imagining its roots drinking the blood of a dragon, its bark breathing. If he connected what Asha had said with his own memories from another life, the answer seemed obvious—at least to him.
A nature spirit. Some kind of primal lifeform. Maybe even a dryad.
That would explain why he felt… connected. Why the air in certain places made his chest lighter, why the sight of an untouched glade sent a warm ripple through his bones.
"Whatever it was," Asha said, "it changed you. For better or worse… we'll see."
She pulled him close to her, her head resting on his, as they sat watching the fire, each with their own thoughts.
Kai didn't say anything. But in his mind, he'd already given it a name: Nature Sense. It sounded like something out of a superhero comic.
The thought also made him excited. Compared to his past life, he already thought his senses and reflexes were already bordering on superhuman. There was his strength too which didn't seem to match his age.
Now he has gained this new ability, a new power. As for what it does, he still has yet to figure it out, but just knowing that there was some sort of untapped potential within him made him eagerly anticipate the future when he would fully master it.
And so, he began testing it.
Whenever the forest felt "right," he stopped, closed his eyes, and tried to focus. He learned to follow the invisible threads between himself and the world, until he could almost feel every leaf around him, every insect crawling in the soil, every drop of water sliding down a vine.
It was strange. He couldn't pinpoint things exactly like a radar. He was unable to communicate with plants or animals.
He could just feel the rhythm of life around him and somehow perceive a connection without any precision.
And the connection would fill him with a refreshing feeling, as if being nourished by a peaceful energy.
However, once he opened his eyes and feel his connection fade, so too would that feeling of nourishment gradually disappear.
Kai felt frustrated that he couldn't retain this feeling when he wasn't concentrating on it, but he kept reminding himself that this was completely new territory he was exploring and it was never going to be easy.
The more he practiced, the more confident he grew—too confident, maybe. Nature Sense led him deeper into the forest, toward pockets of raw, untouched life that filled him with energy. But these places were also home to other things. Bigger things. Stronger things.
A shadow gliding over the canopy—an eagle with a wingspan wider than a wagon. A lizard the size of a cow sunning itself on a log. More than once, Kai had to motion for Asha to freeze as the air grew tense with the presence of a predator.
On the twentieth day since leaving the ledge, dawn did not come with birdsong.
It came with a sound that made the hair on Kai's neck bristle—a deep, guttural snarl, low as distant thunder.
Then a roar tore through the forest so violently it seemed to strip the air from his lungs, rattling the leaves overhead and sending a shiver down the trunks around them.
Kai's eyes flew open. Beside him, Asha was already upright, clutching the handle of her half-filled gathering basket. The faint steam of her breath mingled with the cool morning mist.
Another roar answered the first—lower, heavier, a sound that carried the weight of something colossal. The forest seemed to shrink around them as the air thickened with tension.
Then came the scrape of claws against soil, the ripping tear of roots wrenched from the ground, and the deafening whump of two massive bodies colliding. Branches shuddered. Somewhere above, startled birds burst from the canopy in a black flurry.
"What is it?" Asha whispered, her voice trembling despite her steady hands.
Kai closed his eyes, letting his senses bleed outward. The fog of sleep vanished as his awareness swept through the trees. Shapes took form in his mind—two vast, heaving shadows, bristling with muscle and fury, locked in a violent dance.
"Two beasts," he murmured. "Large. Fierce. They're fighting."
Her knuckles tightened on the basket's rim. "How close?"
He swallowed, his gut tightening as the picture sharpened. "…Too close."