I didn't feel a thing when I got another hiker progress earlier, bringing me up to 6% on that trait. Still no extra stat point. I do have a vague sensation that walking around is a bit easier though, not sure if it’s really the trait doing its thing, some weird kind of placebo effect or just me actually getting used to all the walking. But its been only two days, that seems a bit faster than reasonable for a human body to actually change noticeably right? Well I say noticeably but it’s not that much, my legs are still super tired and I’m really glad I’m almost to my little cave.

Maybe I'm just getting used to feeling awful.

We got some extra endurance and those dweller traits forming too compared to yesterday. Of course its only single digits but they must add up.

Or even multiply somehow?

Its really infuriating to only have mostly baseless conjectures to try and guess how this damn system works. Sure I can see how it makes sense overall but the details are frustratingly unclear. I can't believe I was initially thinking that the system screens were nicely informative.

Take this for instance :

Mana Sense (minor)

The first step on the long road to magical prowess. You have started feeling the mana that infuses this world, either inside or outside of your body. This Trait helps you get a slightly improved sense of mana.

This trait has improved your mana pool, this effect remains even if the trait is lost. Currently : 1 Mana

This trait is in its forming stage, its effect is reduced (1%).

This trait is in its forming stage, making it more likely to be lost.

This Trait resonates with your Split Personality Trait, increasing its chance to evolve.

It’s bloody useless! I mean. I’m really happy for Bob, it looks like he’s got a real shot at turning into a magical fairy or something. But what about me? Where are the hints at how to feel mana? What the hell does it even mean to feel mana?

Don’t worry, I’ll teach you once I'm confident I have the hang of it.

I know you will, but I hate this. I really do. This useless system is such a scam. The terms and conditions claimed I agreed to the unknown context modifier but there is no way I accepted it knowing how thoroughly it would fuck me up the ass.

Uh. Bob's gone back to it I guess.

I liked it better when he had nothing to do all day. Working on mana sense is great of course but whatever meditation does to him makes him really silent. I still haven't had a good chance to really talk to him...

Could he be avoiding those talks?

Does Bob feel his own existential dread too?

Speaking of which, I’m finally back home and ready to try and face mine.

Well, wisdom would be using the last hour before sundown to improve the flimsy "wall" that will stand between me and the outside as I sleep, but this is more important to me right now. I need to figure things out.

And so I sit down as comfortably as possible against the boulder that is the main wall of my little alcove and start plucking the remaining feathers off the mangled, half eaten mess that will tentatively serve as my meal once more. I made sure to take out most of the insides of the pigeon and clean everything as best as I could back down in the stream. Of course without proper tools I had to brutally tear it down with raw strength. What is left is mostly meat and bones but it’s not pretty.

Anyway, lets start with my childhood.

My earliest memories go back to over twenty years ago, so it’s obviously quite fuzzy. Mostly disconnected scenes : me and my older sister Alice playing with water gun toys around in the garden, Dad teaching me about basic maths, Mom cooking the large bags of mushrooms we went to pick in the fields – we had to eat those for like a week straight and we all ended up hating them –, a huge bonfire... There are massive blanks in my memories from back and I’m barely able to order them, but I was 4 to 6 years old, I’m fairly confident these have nothing to do with any tampering.

Things get a bit clearer as I move on to recall the events from after we moved from Couëron, in western France, all the way to Blessac, a small town lost somewhere in the central lands. We went there for Dad’s job, he was a teacher of literature in a high-school. The way I understand it, going to work in such a forgotten place helps to get actually good positions later. Not that I minded living surrounded by small houses and large fields. The hilly lands of Limousin are great for nature lovers that do not mind having the closest hospital over an hour away, or basically nothing resembling theaters, shopping malls and such.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure we moved there just before classes began. I barely remember passing some kind of test that had me skip a year. Very few faces and names come to mind from that long ago. A couple friends and that one girl I never told I liked. Her name was Helen, but her face is forgotten. I also remember the teacher assigned to my class, a kind man with rather long white hair and a bushy mustache.

Eh.

I never realized how much of a cliché he was. Pretty sure he had a super classic name like M. Baker too. I can remember the big lines of those years in primary school. We would visit grandma back at her farm near Couëron pretty much every holiday. Well, except that time we went skiing in the Alps.

Hmm.

Lets see… Everything from those vacations was amazing to my eight years old self. Dad rented a large chalet for a week for everybody, including my sister Alice's closest friend of the time. I remember we ate some of those glorious local specialties based on cooking way more cheese than is really reasonable along with various delicious fatty things, potatoes and even more cheese. I remember walking and playing in the snow, but nothing about skiing. Actually, now that I’m focusing on it, I know that I love skiing but I have no memory of it. I can even easily picture the entrance of the ski station, dozens of people struggling as they awkwardly carry their equipment while dressed up in unwieldy cold-resistant clothes. I can almost recall the excitement leading up to that moment as we were going to get in the cable car.

But no memory of actually skiing.

I went a few times in my life to the Alps and the Pyrenees in winter, usually specifically just for skiing, and it’s the same absence everywhere.

Why?

Why would they take those fond memories away?

Why would anyone go out of their way to do this?

It’s just…unwarranted evil.

I’m exhausted from the day, and I can hardly feel more than mild indignation as I just stare blankly at the remains of the pigeon. There are still some feathers clinging to it, but most are down in the dirt, lamely moving along the faintest air currents without actually taking off.

I absentmindedly tear small pieces of meat away and swallow without paying attention as I brood.

And perhaps cry a little as I try to avoid the terrifying question.

What else is gone?

- - -

I wake up feeling worse than terrible. My whole body is very painfully sore. Sleeping on rocks, 1/10 would not recommend.

A tentative movement as I try to find a better position to brood is quickly shutdown as my left calf is suddenly completely caught by an awful cramp.

Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch, please stop.

It feels like each beat of my heart brings a new wave of pain as my leg radiates its unhappiness. Like my calf gave up and just wants to curl up in a ball. I wouldn’t mind buddy, but you can’t physically do that, I’m sorry.

I’d love to try a little massage but moving was already not looking good before the cramp so all I can do is suffer. And cry.

Again.

All I’ll say about the end of yesterday’s evening is that I did end up throwing up before crawling to the likely illusory safety of my cave.

I might have depressively cursed the Knowledgeable a couple of times for messing up with my mind before tossing me alone in this place to suffer.

I’m just whimpering in the dust right now, waiting for the various pains I’m experiencing to stop. The sunburns are still here but they really aren’t relevant anymore compared to all the accumulated tiredness and soreness.

An overnight report shows up unbidden and unwelcome.

Trait formation notice : Forest Dweller (-) 1%. [+1 DEX]

Trait progress : Mountain Dweller +1% ; Wildland Dweller +1% ; Mana Sense +1%, +1Mana

Experience gain notice : +7%

Your lowering mental health is temporarily reducing your Sanity by two.

Your terrible resting conditions have reduced your natural health regeneration for the night.

Your terrible alimentation has reduced your natural health regeneration.

New and not so new stuff. Whatever.

My leg is on fire, my foot is so tense it feels like it might break as the tendon pulls it back as far as it can go.

I even struggle to breathe as I whimper helplessly.

I honestly don't really register any information while the cramp lasts. After what felt like forever but probably wasn’t more than a dozen seconds, it recedes, leaving me panting and with a brand new dull ache. Like a warning that if I try to push my luck it will be back for revenge.

I guess I’m not moving for the time being.

Yesterday, after noticing any memory I might have of skiing was gone, I went through my memories all the way to the beginning of my college years in a bit of a daze. Those were relatively empty years in a tiny village of central France. I'd go to middle school close to home, act like I was studying, read a lot... Then it was high school. basically the same except it was further from home, so I had to learn to bear with half hours of bus in the morning and evenings. Some kids got into drugs, which I tried and hated, while others stayed clean, which ended up being my crowd.

I didn’t bond with them all that much.

Nothing really felt too out of place. Not as glaringly or recurrently as the skiing thing.

I’ve kind of managed to convince myself that I’m my own person, and that if I’m not I’m close enough that it doesn’t matter in any practical sense.

The problem is finding the holes.

I obviously cannot remember every single day of my life in great detail, if a unique conversation is missing, or just a random five minute snippet somewhere, I’m pretty sure I would have no way of knowing. Most likely my brain would just patch the hole and an exceptional day where something happened would turn into another of the mass of unremarkable days.

I’ve noticed that sadly, there are a lot of those.

I would sigh if my breath wasn’t still short from my painful awakening. It is though, so it’s more of a strange whimpering thing.

Alright, sitting up.

Every single one of the muscles involved, and a couple more, complain. But at least the cramp doesn’t come back.

Silver linings, that’s the name of the game.

Morning Bob. Slept well?

I’m not sure if I sleep… Are you going to keep reminiscing? I learned a lot yesterday.

Oh? I kind of assumed you had my memories.

It’s not really like that… My earliest memory is from two days ago. Everything else happened only to you, and it’s far from clear for me.

Uh. Well yeah, I want to try and find everything the Knowledgeable erased. Guess I’ll tell you about college.

While trying to slowly bring my body back in working order with very gentle movements, I go over everything and anything I remember. Freshman year, I was 17. That was such a great time. There was the initial happiness of finally moving away from my parents who didn’t ever really try to understand me in my teens, mixed with discovering Lyon, a much larger city than anything I had lived in before. I was in for a rough awakening when the first partials came around and classes actually felt difficult for the first time in my life. The second semester was much more stressful when I had to catch up after I still botched my first finals ever.

Maths were hell back then.

Bob mostly lets me reminisce, but he pays attention and calls back more memories with precise questions.

We get into the topic of my first serious relationship and how it left me bitter for months, with a deep scar that I think never quite completely healed. I guess if I could choose, that's one thing I would be happy not to remember quite as clearly. That particular betrayal really stung. But it taught me to not trust too deeply too quickly.

Things did get better of course, I was young and I did have a lot going for me. Smart enough to make it through engineering school once I got the rhythm down, no money problems thanks to the support from my parents... And my friends were great. They were mostly from the year above my own, with that extra kindness born of having more life experience and seeing me go through a similar struggle as they had to overcome in the past. Meanwhile, my actual classmates were mostly acquaintances rather than friends that cared about me, but that never felt like much of a big deal.

Until almost all of my friends made it to the point where they scattered all around France and other countries during their third year. A mandatory six month internship part of the school's curriculum. That period was a bit lonely, it kinda sucked. It’s also the time where I grew really close to my friend Camille, the only one of the band that stayed in Lyon.

I have fond memories of that guy, good times spent not doing much, talking and forgetting about all kinds of topics, from politics and criminality to food and college gossip.

It took me far too long to realize that he was interested in me for a little more than just friends. I unknowingly led him on with ambiguous jokes, and by my questioning of whether I was bisexual or not. Then there was that one evening where we were hanging out at his place with some really good rum, being lonely together. Long story short, that went places. I was open to the idea but I hadn't had same sex relationships before, and... I powered through. I wanted to be sure, and I guess that was one way to realize it's not for me.

What happened the next morning was not a moment I’m very proud of. It got worse because his reaction to the rejection after the fact was really bad. Blaming him for the violence was easier than facing the truth that I certainly held half the blame.

We lost contact for a while with a lot of things remaining unsaid, but time passed. Finals were coming up, I was very busy trying to salvage my semester.

Learning later that he’d tried to kill himself was... a bit of a shock. He walked away from it but I felt so powerless at the time, with nothing I could do since I'd only heard weeks after the fact.

The wound got left behind and I never took the time to apologize. Yet I strangely don't find myself remembering this particularly bitterly.

Uh.

Anyway, nothing obviously missing in my college years.

I’ve been awake for about an hour now. I actually warmed up enough to stand up and start slowly bringing my legs and torso back to life about 30 minutes ago. I’m still sore all over and I’m still not daring to put too much weight on my left leg. That will have to do, I'm not peeing inside here.

I crawl out of my room. Its a cloudy day out and the wind is noticeably stronger and colder than yesterday.

I might as well limp back to my favorite stream.

Walking with the fear of having a leg suddenly give up is a novel experience of unpleasantness. Every step I take, I feel a small bit of that very specifi brand of pain only cramps give. The pain itself is low, but the fear of suddenly being helpless in agony for a minute is really eating me up.

So I’m very carefully watching my step on the treacherous rocky grounds of the mountain.

Marc. Stay calm and turn around. There’s someone behind us.

I freeze. I can feel it too now, a presence in my back that feels like I’m under the gaze of a terrifying predator.

And I left my damn whip back at the cave, because of course I did.

I turn around and can’t help but gape in surprise as I see just who is casually sizing me up.

It’s a young woman, that I can only describe as demonic.