Clear Sky Tribe

Awaking to a splitting headache, after throwing the bag on his lap to the side, James slowly got to his feet, his body still aching from the overdraft it was put through from absorbing the Ironsoul Pond.

'Wait, I didn't have a leather bag' noticed James, 'Oh. Antonio or Dan or whatever…' he remembered, a sullen look crossing his face. Having nothing better to do, James opened the bag to see 5 things - a pair of brown, cotton trousers that were close enough to his size; a brown roughspun traveler's cloak with a sewn-on leather hood; a simple pair of leather boots; and a small chef's knife in a worn wooden sheath.

The final item in the bag was a simple note reading, "Place your old stuff in the bag and rip this note in half - Antonio". Looking carefully at the note, James noticed a slight yellow mist emanating from it, 'It's magic!' he thought to himself, having seen enough in the past few hours to extrapolate at least that much.

His eyes not leaving the note, James changed into the new clothes he'd been given, discarding his old, muck-covered clothes in the bag. 'Here goes nothing' thought James, tearing the paper in two.

As the paper tore, arcs of electricity coalesced between the separated parts, forming a small grape sized ball of condensed lightning. As James stared at this ball in awe, it flew towards the bag, stopping just before the opening before opening up like the jaws of a beast and swallowing the contents inside of the bag whole; the ball simply fizzled away as if nothing had happened a moment later, with small wisps of smoke floating out of the hole in the top of the bag.

Cautiously approaching the bag, James looked in to find exactly what he expected to see: nothing. The bag was emptied of his old possessions, and with it, his last link to human civilisation as he knew it was gone.

To this, James had no strong feelings, he'd already understood that he was on his own here, and the questions he had, he couldn't exactly search up on his phone - not that there was any Internet access to search with, in the middle of a magic forest god-knows-where.

With the thought of searching for information, an epiphany struck from the blue, 'Wait. The Library!'

As it turned out, the epiphany was useless to James at that moment, as he had no clue how to access the library in his soul. Regardless of how hard he focused and tried to visualise it in his mind, it seemed hopeless until James had yet another idea.

Closing his eyes and sitting down cross legged under the tree, James felt comfortable. Clearing his mind turned out to be a challenge however. The chaotic thoughts of the events that transpired throughout the past day clouded his mind, blocking his mental state from reaching a semblance of calmness.

Remembering a piece of advice he was given by a video advertisement of all places, James decided to let these thoughts run their course, but focusing on one spot on his body, the black mark between his shoulder blades.

Time ticked on, second after second, minute after minute, yet James sat completely still, seemingly unaffected by the world around him. Slowly but surely, his mind felt a pull on his mind, ebbing in and out, rolling like the tides, as his consciousness seemed to fall into an ethereal state.

As this reached a conclusion, the state was shattered abruptly, the feeling gone, and his eyes opened once again - the mental exhaustion pervading his mind exacerbated further, and once again a splitting pain ripped through his skull, forcing him to hunch over in pain.

As James sat with his head hung over in pain, he noticed a rustling sound in the distance, roughly 100 metres away, but rapidly approaching. By the pace, James' initial thoughts were 'Wolves! There's a pack of wolves here!', but just as James stood and readied his knife, anxious but determined to survive, a group of rather short, bronze-skinned men, dressed in sky blue pelts matching their piercing eyes, all holding wooden-shafted spears leapt through the bushes, pointing their weapons at him threateningly.

"Who are you, this is Clear Sky tribal land!" boomed the man in front, easily identifiable as the leader of the group by the worn iron spearhead pinned to the tip of his spear as opposed to the sharp stones adorning the others.