I Should've Guessed As Much

'Hello.'

I looked around for wherever did the sound even come from, but I essentially knew that it wasn't something normal, well, as normal as an old man who didn't know his name tht had the powers of a wendigo while travelling with a xenophagic elf that had a system.

That or the fact that this felt all to obvious. "So, what are you now? Something new and odd?"

Yes, I was speaking to the deer, the creature that helped us for quite a while, by carrying most of our shit.

'Yes, thank you, odd one. You killed the animal that killed my parents. I'm stronger without the feeling of hatred within me.'

I kept as much of a very very flat expression while I was having even more internal turmoil, and no, that didn't mean me wanting to take a shit, that wouldn't be a thing with my current body. I mean that this thing was now capable of speech ( in a way) to us.

"Great, more things that talk. Let me guess, you see a strange thing floating as well, don't you?"

The deer tilted it's head while I waited for it to give a good enough answer.

'Floating? What is that?'

"So you can speak in my language but you can't quite understand what I say. Fair enough, it's like knowing a song, but not knowing what the lyrics even mean in the first place since they're in another language."

The deer just got even more confused, on the other hand, I just groaned. It was talking to me in my head, just like the fucking curse.

"Another being that's capable of accessing my mind and talking to me, simultaneously acting as another fucking pain in my ass. Grandiose, truly this moment cannot be described in any other way."

It just stood there, not really understanding my annoyance. I keep saying annoyance, but there's a word best used to describe my situation, and yet I still can't quite find it.

What was that word that was used a lot more often in the 2020's? Mald? It was synonymous to coping, but I really don't think it fits like a glove in this one.

'I don't quite get what you're saying odd one, but you helped me, and I thank you for it. Both you and the little monarch.'

And there it was, the kicker. The word that seemed to spark off something like a repressed memory. The books that I've read make me remember something truly horrifying.

"I'm sorry, but.....did you just call the kid a "monarch" ?"

I swear to all that is above, I will tear asunder this world and then take myself out of it after I'm done with it if this is what I think it is.

'She smells like a monarch? Is that not correct? She smells like one who leads us. Many may try to go against it, but I smell it. The smell of the leader.'

'Oh my god I'm taking care of a fucking elf queen.'

I threw my head into my hands as I just groaned st the situation that was thrown at me. Here I am, an old man whose job description can best be described as world terrorism and sacking, with a child that has the scent of a "monarch" on her.

Aye, I am fucked in this one. Because that's two very very very big marks on our heads.

"Please tell me that you're jesting. Jesting is all I want for tis information to be."

'?'

"I hate this. I genuinely hate this moment."

....Words cannot begin to describe what sort of a monster I'm grooming this child to be. I taught her how to fucking fight, and she's more than capable of killing a lot of things.

This.....is going to be a very difficult year. I am sure of that however.

The meat was more or less still good, and the kid ate up most of it while I was still mulching and munching on thin strips of jerky things.

It took me hours to try and get the perfect consistency to make a good enough form of "clay" from the pond that I killed the gator in.

The results? Well, the first try it was soggy slime that was still tainted from the blood, the second didn't even look like clay, and was more akin to sand with bits of dirt in it, and the third looked decent at first until it broke down the moment I grabbed it when it looked dry enough.

I couldn't help but almost shed a tear at the sight of not having jerky then, but I kept going, and at about the fifteenth try, I found the sweet spot for mixes.

I needed to "bake" them, but the fire wasn't hot enough, or cold enough? In any case I had thoughts to design the furnace thing like the Africans, which was mixing the clay with straw.

This was a forest with strong amounts of vegetation under the trees, despite not getting enough sunlight. How did it grow without enough sun? I'm asking the same question.

The child just looked at me while I was working to see what was I planning. I didn't quite say anything yet, but she could use a treat that didn't quite need to be my fresh flesh that she cut out of my dead body.

Plus, we were able to smoke meat in the skeleton tree before, who says that we couldn't do it again? I made sure that the clay "bricks" were in more tougher ground as I tended to the fire and tried to replicate the old smoking design I used.

Which was essentially sticks that were held up high enough by other sticks so that they don't end up burning the meat. That one only really worked since we were in a magical tree that somehow stayed healthy despite the harsh winter beforehand.

The "smoker" was more or less dealt with, but now this raised the time to make me think again. The kid was royalty to them.

On the other hand, the guy that was taking care of her smelled, looked and felt like an abomination that should be eradicated, and was more than weaker than their leader.

This was a shit situation that I didn't want to be in. But I dug that grave by myself and I didn't intend for it to just be a single person deep. I looked into the fire as I didn't notice that the sun had finally fallen down again, but the brightness of the deer was more than making it feel like it was still daytime.

With all truths, it was a tad disturbing to me, the kid on the other hand didn't seem to mind all that much about the amount of light the deer gave off.

'I swear, I might not get enough sleep, but at least let the kid get some shuteye already.'

My thoughts and wishes were absolutely ignored by the two of them as they just played around by playing tag. I really shouldn't have taught them that game. They were more than filled to the brim with energy. The kid especially so, she seemed that she was healthier whenever it wasn't winter.

That would be good, if not for the fact that she was burning the saved-up calories within her. I didn't know if I should scold her at that moment, so I took a deep breath, thought about it, and closed my eyes.

It's a learning experience for her, I told myself. It would give her an idea that she shouldn't do this in the long run, and that it would be a good enough reminder, I told myself. SHE SPENT MORE THAN FIVE HOURS PLAYING TAG, AND IT WAS THE DEER THAT SEEMED TO DULL ITS COLORS WHEN IT GOT TIRED.

She on the other hand seemed to be a tad sadder, so I groaned and stood up to go to her. "You see that kid? You're stronger than most things, and you know that when fighting me. Your little friend over here thinks you're a leader, but do you truly believe yourself to be that sort of a person?"

"What do you mean old man? What's a leader?

"A leader, child, is a person that commands respect, love, and fear, all in their adequate amounts for the perfect mixture. A mixture that ensures that their time leading ends with a good note, and not a sour one."

I took a moment for her to try and digest the words as I walked over to the deer that was sleeping like a log. "Knocked the hell out, eh bruva? Take your rest, you're gonna need it for the journey."

My words went unheard by the deer as the kid tugged at my shirt and asked me something that I should have seen coming.

"What does note mean?"

I sighed and slowly but surely imparted the basics of what music is, only for her to get even more questions that answers. It was a bad night that soon turned into a badder morning. You see, the deer woke up and saw that we were smoking the gator.

I didn't have spices, as you could tell from before, but it still held a great degree of curiosity as I carefully put the meat on the "rack" of the smoker.

It would only have a light smoky flavor, and it probably would lasted shorter than what I would've considered to be adequate. But it was still smoked gator meat. And smoked gator meat was better than no smoked meat.

I debated on trying to kill the deer as well, but, well, you can see from how it was capable of smashing my body straight to the floor hard enough for my body to be on the virge of a complete breakdown, since most of my intestines were smushed.

They weren't flattened per se, they were more of a "close but no cigar" kind of smashed into my fucking ribcage. Oh it hurt, but it wouldn't have been that bad thanks to this piss poor natural regeneration that I have going on for me.

But do I trust the deer? Oh absolutely not, first chance I'll get, I'm going to kill that thing if it come off as a good idea at the time. If not, well, I'll just allow it to keep breathing. And for the sake of both the kid and me, I just didn't think about it until a couple days later, when I regained access to the realm.

First things first was that I got as many spices as I could get my grubby little mitts on, then more amenable supplies, and after that comes the extra tools and some more weaker weapons.

Well, I say weaker, but a polearm is a very very good little tool to have. And elves being the natural acrobats that they are, the kid is going to have a blast with this one. Now it was just a completely straight stick, but it strong enough for you to make it into a good weapon.

If you smack someone in the base of their neck hard enough with a stick, they won't be able to walk for either a short period, or for the rest of their life.

Should you trust my words? I really hope that you don't, when it may be true, I only got the jump on that investigator all those years ago since there was smoke in the room.

While it was a bad idea in hindsight, it bought me more than enough time to bust that asshole that tried to extort from me. But the kid didn't really need to know where I got these ways of fighting, she just needed them in the world long enough for it to be more powerful than fucking dragons.

Speaking of those aerolizards, if this is some fantasy world, I would've anticipated that there would be something akin to a dragon here, hell, we would've seen something at the very least while we wasted literal seasons looking at the sky and living in a tree.

And yet not once did the thing show up, or any of them. We didn't see anything, which would have been hard to miss since the skeleton tree was taller than most other trees that were there in that patch of the forest.

The kid was going to enjoy what I brought her, so I tie it to the back of the haversack that I was also modifying a bit to be able to have straps for weapons. Is this me thriving? Nope, not yet, or not now, since I doubt that I'll be able to actually physically thrive in a situation like this.

Most of what seemed to be needed was here with me. A proper compass, check. Some more good water, check indeed. There wasn't any medicine that I could've made, mainly due to the fact that I couldn't.

And as for me? Well, I was also thinking on making a new weapon, but the serrated axe proved to be a decent tool and weapon.

It would stay in my arsenal until it proved to be detrimental, if anything. But remembering the amount of times I used it back then, well, I suppose that the day when it becomes useless is going to be a very far one.

The gear was set, I had the weekly supplies that I needed and I felt my mental state deteriorating every second that I was here. I didn't want to prolong the pain even further by trying to improve the little "house" that I was making for myself.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself for another week's worth of madness that I prayed wouldn't come. I almost laughed at what I was praying about and closed my eyes again, remembering the feeling of the sun all over again, the feeling of bodily pains and aches.

The feeling of stress going through me as I fought two, if not three things that should have killed me all that time ago, and yet lived. Well, the third was still alive, and it was taking a form of tutelage from me.

I groaned at the thought and opened my eyes to see that the kid and the deer were still just playing around again, the meat already well-packed into the sling that the kid used for her stones.

Now I should have been getting annoyed that the meat was going to become filthy, but in the first place she picked up flat and very smooth pebbles for slinging. Whenever I had the chance to inspect them, they were pretty much pristine.

I didn't quite understand why that was so, and how she even got the stones in the first place, but they weren't going to be an issue in the current situation.

"Well, I see you're having fun."

She just looked up at me as she hugged the deer's neck tenderly, while having a surprisingly innocent smile on her face. I really hope she doesn't lose it too quickly in this sort of world.