➤ Chapter 5: "A Village Beyond the Trees"
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The morning sun poured through the window's single glass pane, catching dust motes dancing lazily in the air. Ehsan sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His muscles ached slightly from yesterday's work—digging, planting, building. But it was a satisfying ache, the kind that reminded you something was growing.
He stretched, stepped outside, and checked his crops first thing.
The wheat had sprouted tiny green shoots—just a few pixels tall. Still fragile, still humble, but very much alive.
And the sugar cane? It had grown by one block.
He smiled.
"One day at a time," he said aloud.
He turned toward the northeast—toward the village he'd glimpsed yesterday beyond the birch trees.
Today, he'd go there.
Before setting out, Ehsan prepared.
He packed essentials: a stone sword, pickaxe, shovel, some bread, and torches. He also took a few items to trade—though he had no emeralds yet, he carried some raw coal and a few stacks of cobblestone. Villagers respected labor, he reasoned. And if not… he'd observe, learn.
He crafted a spare wooden sign and placed it near his home's entrance:
"Gone Exploring – Back Before Night"
It wasn't necessary. But it felt right. Like he was maintaining something—something human.
He took one last look at the farm, then stepped into the wild.
The journey northeast wasn't far—just a few hundred blocks—but in survival mode, every block mattered.
The birch trees whispered in the wind as he passed through their white trunks. He marked the path with cobblestone pillars, placing torches on top every so often. His "trail of fireflies," he called it. A way home.
Eventually, the trees thinned, and the landscape dipped gently into a shallow valley.
And there it was.
The village.
It was a modest one—ten or so houses clustered around a central well. A bell tower stood near the center, its top visible even from a distance. Farms surrounded the village, rows of carrots and wheat growing in tidy patterns.
Ehsan slowed his steps as he approached. He didn't rush in. Instead, he crouched behind a tall grass patch and watched for a moment.
Villagers moved with idle animations—one tending to crops, another pacing near a composter, and a librarian peering down from the second floor of a book-lined house.
No iron golem in sight yet.
"Maybe it hasn't spawned," Ehsan whispered.
Or maybe the village wasn't big enough.
Carefully, he stepped into the village.
The nearest villager—a farmer with a straw hat—paused as Ehsan approached but didn't run. That was a good sign. Ehsan held out an empty hand, then offered a single bread loaf.
The villager made a curious "Hrmm" sound but took no action.
"Thought that might work," Ehsan chuckled.
He explored slowly. The houses were in good shape—some had crafting tables, others had furnaces, and one small house had a chest with a few potatoes and an emerald inside.
He left it untouched.
He wasn't a thief.
This was someone's home.
Inside the library, he found a lectern and shelves lined with books. The librarian stood nearby, watching him cautiously.
Ehsan examined the lectern's interface. No written books—yet.
"I'll bring one next time," he whispered.
Maybe… maybe he could write something. Share knowledge. Create stories in a world without people to hear them.
He exited and wandered to the outskirts, where a shepherd tended two sheep in a wooden pen.
There it was.
His target.
Wool.
"Hey, buddy," he muttered to the sheep. "Mind if I borrow a bit?"
He pulled out his iron shears—crafted the night before—and snipped. The sheep let out a soft bleat, and white wool fell into his inventory.
He stepped back, gave the animal a small nod of thanks, and left two wheat seeds by the pen.
A gift, even if it wasn't needed.
By midday, Ehsan had mapped out the entire village.
He found:
2 farms (wheat and carrot)
1 librarian
1 farmer
1 shepherd
1 bell tower
1 animal pen
1 brewing stand (inside a church-like house)
No blacksmith (unfortunate)
He noted it all down in his journal, including coordinates and layout.
This village would become important. Maybe not today. But someday.
Someday, he might trade here. Protect it. Maybe even build a road connecting it to his cabin.
A bridge between lives.
As he left, the sun was already falling westward. He picked a few wildflowers growing near the path—azure bluets and tulips—and placed them in his off-hand.
Gifts for home.
He followed his cobblestone trail back through the birch trees, the torches glowing like tiny suns.
When his cabin came into view, he breathed a sigh of relief.
He was still alone.
But not alone alone.
Not anymore.
Back home, Ehsan placed the wool inside a new chest labeled Textiles. He hung one flower above the doorway—a yellow tulip. He placed the others in a pot near his bed.
Then he wrote.
[Day 4
Location: Village (NE) discovered
Distance: ~300 blocks from cabin
Features: 10+ structures, 3 professions, 1 well, farms
Resources: Acquired wool, observed trading stations, mapped layout
Goals: Begin trading. Bring book to librarian. Create safe path between home and village.]
Night came slowly.
Stars rose one by one, the sky turning deep blue and violet.
Ehsan sat by the campfire, flower petals in his hand, warm bread on his plate, and soft wool under his head.
And for the first time since waking up in this world… he felt like he belonged.
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▶ To be continued...
Next Chapter: "The First Storm"
Thanks for reading!