As we ride out of town, it turns out that the direction we take outside of town is exactly the wrong direction to take if we want to see any more civilization any time soon. For a while there are farms, orchards, and homesteads dotting the hills and forest around us, but as they thin out, they eventually give way to untamed wilderness, and the well paved road becomes more and more rough.
Eventually, it feels like the packed dirt beneath our horses' hooves only half-remembers that it was ever meant to be a road in the first place, and the clear cut through the bushes has become mostly a lack of trees in the way along a winding path.
If there weren't wildlife packing this down on the regularly it's likely even this much of the path would be gone. It's annoying, but it's not impossible to traverse, so I press onward anyway. At a much safer pace, of course. I'm in a hurry to get to that challenge, but I'm not in a 'push my horse at a nonstop gallop' hurry.
Because this strange group of people is absolutely determined to follow me around no matter what I say, when I press onward, so do they.
We ride through the first night without stopping. It's not unusual for me to pull an all-nighter, and in this world I've barely been alive for a day, there's plenty of juice in me to go forward. As it so happens, though, riding a horse is tiring. Arguably much more tiring than having a marathon stream where one can stop and stretch and drink bubbly caffeinated soda whenever necessary. On the bright side this means that it's nearly impossible to get so cozy that I accidentally fall asleep on the way.
But I don't want to be awake. My body makes that really clear by the afternoon of the second day.
And nobody around me looks like they want to keep going, either.
Meera's nearly fallen off her horse three times today, as she's somehow found a way to accidentally fall asleep riding a horse, despite my assumption that such a thing should be impossible by the sheer discomfort involved.
By this second day, any remnants of civilization are long gone behind us, and there's not the slightest indication there's anything ahead of us in the ever shrinking path through the wilderness and the trees anywhere around us. We can't just keep riding onward until there's a Motel 8 around, so the only solution is to rest somewhere. I'm not any good at roughing it. I refused to go camping whenever given the choice, and utterly failed at it when not given it.
It's true, I live for the challenge. But it's also true that I'm helpless at camping. Some things people just aren't good at. My thing is camping.
But there's no choice, clearly. As the sun begins to fade the second time in the sky, there's still absolutely no sign of civilization anywhere. If there is anything upcoming, I suppose the people around me would have at least some idea that it's there. None of them have said anything about it, though, so. That's not exactly looking like a good sign.
"Here." Elara says suddenly. She points ahead to a break in the trees and underbrush.
It's not exactly a camp site with neatly trimmed grass and a pre-made smokepit, but it's not the tangle of brambles and trees that have been around us up until this point since we entered what I'd expected to be a short little copse of trees and actually turned out to be some kind of woods. From what I can tell, although I'm admittedly no expert, this spot might actually be a place where travelers often stop. Often enough that it's beaten back the encroaching brambles, at least.
Meera waves her arms over her head and shouts in an entirely too loud voice. "AAAAAAAAAhhhhhhh! We can SLEEP!"
The tortoiseshell cat, Meow - I'm trying to stick to calling her that so I don't accidentally say her full name out loud - seems similarly exhausted to the rest of us from being on a horse all this time, and doesn't even bolt when Meera shouts like that. Instead she lifts her head and delivers several crushing slaps - fortunately without any claw - to Meera's face to punish her. It's a punishment I feel is more than earned, to be honest.
Meera sputters, but to her credit, her enthusiasm is not dimmed. "I'll prepare the fire!"
"I can build a shelter." Kael adds, starting to dismount.
...And they all just look at me. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be saying.
"What." I squint at them.
Elara laughs lightly, a surprisingly pleasant sound that actually eases the tension I didn't notice until this moment. "Ryo. Why are you looking so lost?"
I glance up at the canopy overhead, shielding my eyes from the last rays of light spilling over the distant mountain peaks. "I don't know anything about camping."
I've never even successfully set up a real tent with instructions and pegs. I don't know the first thing about building some makeshift shelter from scratch. Maybe if I had one of those metal sheet blanket things I could toss it over some sticks like I saw on tv once ore twice. But I don't, and there aren't any propped up sticks for that. And that wouldn't fit all of us.
Meera looks deeply confused by my statement, as if she simply cannot believe I could have grown up to be such a pathetic adult. "Really?!"
I sigh, waving my hand. "My world doesn't have camping."
It does. As evidenced by my using the word. But people who willingly participated in it might as well be aliens to me, so it counts as such.
Elara speaks up after a pause. "So you...you really are from a different world."
That's. I've been saying that. And why in the world would my inability to camp become the thing that convinced her?
Well. Whatever. The point is that none of them say anything else about it, and go about their work preparing our campsite for the evening.
I do...try. I'm not just making excuses to stand there and watch while everyone else works. But as expected, I'm absolutely useless, and no matter what I try to do to help, it's somehow the exact opposite of the helpful thing. So I finally give up and sit against a tree a safe distance from the others as I watch them set up camp.
In my defense, the overpowered abilities I was given have nothing to do with camping. If a demon creature appears from the woods then sure, I'll be in my element. I can't promise they'll be alive when I'm done, but I will be. Then again, I never promised to protect or help them, nor did I ask for their help or companionship. I shouldn't be expected to contribute when I never wanted to be in this position. Right?
System Helper is oddly silent on the topic.
The tortoiseshell cat suddenly hops onto my lap, spins, and flops down. Apparently this is now my role for the night. I sigh and idly begin to pet it with one hand. I must be doing something right, because it doesn't bite or otherwise assault me. It's not purring, but it is just. Staying there and accepting my petting. I don't really understand cats, but I'm going to assume this is approval of some kind.
Arin is tending to the horses on the other side of the camp. His hands glow subtly while stroking them, which makes me think he's using some kind of healing magic on them. Which, I suppose, is a good way of making sure the horses don't collapse from a long trip where we are only spending a single night's rest. He glances over toward Elara. "They're in good health. A night's rest should be all they need."
Meera hums in agreement and collects her cat. The cat stretches in her arms and shoves its paws in her face, but seems otherwise content as she pets and gently rocks it in her arms like a mother might rock an infant. It's an oddly serene and gentle scene, considering the violence that cat usually inflicts upon her. Well. It's serene except for the paws shoved into Meera's cheek. But she doesn't seem to care about those.
Kael settles down next to Meera, taking Meow's extended paw and stroking it gently with his finger. She reaches over with her other paw and smacks his hand. He chuckles softly, apparently scolded, and withdraws his hand.
The fire crackles, casting orange and red light in the shadow of the canopy overhead. Kael has set up a surprisingly sturdy and large looking shelter out of trees and leaves that looks large enough for all of us to lay down underneath, if a bit potentially breezy. If it's got a proper name as a structure, I haven't got a clue what it is. I do know he put a lot of effort into it, though. He put it together quickly before nightfall, and he was exhausted and red faced by the time it was done even with Elara and Arin's help.
Meera did not help with the construction, as she was setting up the fire pit and preparing food, as well as getting the horses settled in while it happened.
I. Attempted help. Kael shoved me away from the structure after the section I worked on collapsed twice and nearly took the rest of it with it.
Now we all sit around the fire, waiting for the food to finish. Well. Most of us are sitting.
One of us is wandering the clearing and collecting interesting looking sticks, moss, and mushrooms, while muttering to himself. I have no idea what the point is of Arin's actions. But he is definitely doing something.
I'm well aware it means that I'm the only one who's done nothing in this camp. But I'm also aware that I never asked for any of these people's company. So I'm still resolute that I've done nothing wrong. Except for whatever it was I did with setting up the support structures. I'm really not sure what I did there, though.
Meera hands me a bowl of the stew that's just finished warming. I think it qualifies as stew, anyway. It's not like they opened a can and dumped it in a pan. It just happens to have the ingredients and presentation of a stew. But it smells delicious and is a nice distraction from my guilt and discomfort. Not that I'm guilty. Because I'm not.
I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I took my first spoonful, and now I feel like I might lose control and gorge myself if I don't constantly monitor how quickly I'm eating. In my defense, it is my first meal of this life. Babies would be voracious their first time, too, if they didn't have tiny stomachs. Especially if they went about 48 hours before eating.
The others are staring at me. I don't know when they started doing so. But they are.
"...You really like it?" Elara finally ventures.
"It's okay." I say.
She gives me a weak smile and continues eating her own share. But she looks very pleased now, somehow. Which I don't quite understand, since Meera is the one who made it, but. Whatever. As long as they stop looking at me that way, it doesn't matter.
We sit around the campfire, drinking some kind of tea that Arin makes after Meera is done with the stew and listening to the sounds of the crickets, bugs, and other various and sundry nightlife of the forest.
I don't even remember going into the shelter, in the end. My memories just cut out at some point in the night when I relax just a bit in the comfort of a full belly and finally pass out.