As he settled on the name he had chosen for himself, he stood on the beach with fists clenched. Frustration boiling over, he grabbed a nearby rock and hurled it toward the ocean.
"What the hell!" he shouted, his voice echoing across the cove, scattering the birds overhead in a flurry of wings.
Of all places, this was where he woke up? Stranded on a beach, cut off from land, with no memories?
"What kind of twisted fate is this!?" he shouted again.
He hadn't fully processed it earlier, but now the weight of it hit him—and the anger came with it.
"At least I could've woken up somewhere I wasn't trapped!"
He wasn't sure who he was yelling at—himself, the gods, the birds but getting it out made him feel just a little better.
With one final scream into the sea, he let out a frustrated sigh and covered his face with his hand. Anger wouldn't get him out of this place. His gaze drifted upward to the rock wall enclosing the cove. Then, against his better judgment, he made a reckless decision.
Climb.
He pressed his bare feet and hands against the rough stone, searching for shallow holds in the cliffside. It was slow, painful progress. The rock scraped his skin and the cold wind stung, but he kept going—until halfway up, his foot slipped.
He fell hard, crashing back into the sand below with a choked grunt of pain.
"Fuck!" he hissed, lying flat on his back, winded and aching.
The pain throbbed through his body, but it slowly dulled. Gritting his teeth, he got up and tried again… and again… and again. Each time, he fell—crashing back to the sand below, frustration growing with every failed attempt. Finally, with a roar of anger, he slammed his fist into the ground.
Climbing wasn't the way out.
Breathing heavily, he turned toward the sea. The cold water was uninviting, but it seemed to be his only option. Better to freeze than to rot here forever.
He stepped forward. The waves lapped at his feet, cold and sharp. Tiny crabs scattered at his approach, vanishing into the shallows as he waded deeper into the surf.
"I guess I don't have a choice," he muttered. "I'll swim."
He moved farther into the sea, the water rising to his chest—until suddenly, panic seized him.
Wait…
He didn't know how to swim.
Before he could backtrack, a strong current tugged at his legs and yanked him under. He kicked and thrashed, holding his breath, struggling to find the surface. But the deeper he sank, the more the world faded. His vision blurred. His limbs weakened.
His eyes slowly closed.
So… this is it for me.
Not even a full day, and he was going to die—drowning, what an unfortunate end.
His body sank deeper, drifting toward the ocean floor. Darkness pressed in from all sides. But just before everything faded, something moved in the blur of blue.
Then—
Something nudged him.
Warm. Steady. Alive.
Through the haze, a soft cry echoed in the deep, followed by the flash of silvery-blue movement. A group of marine creatures—Blubber Beasts, gentle ocean-dwellers rarely seen near this area were gliding past. One broke from the pod and swam toward him, wrapping its smooth body under his frame and pushing him upward.
Riven broke the surface with a desperate gasp, coughing and sucking in air. Blinking the salt from his eyes, he looked around—and saw them.
The Blubber Beasts.
One of them chirped, a high-pitched trill, as if to say you're okay now.
The others circled protectively, guiding him as he kicked his legs. With their help, he learned—slowly how to move in the water.
He was stunned—so close to death, yet against all odds, the wild creatures had saved him. A deep wave of gratitude filled his heart, and tears threatened to spill as he vowed never to forget their kindness.
Slowly, they guided him beneath a cliffside arch where a narrow cave awaited shelter. As he crawled out of the sea, he looked back at the creatures that had given him a second chance at life, overwhelmed by a quiet, profound thankfulness.
"Thank you!" he called out, his voice echoing with heartfelt gratitude.
They responded with gentle squeals and clicks, waving their flippers at him before slipping back into the depths—leaving him alone, yet alive, with a newfound skill and a heart quietly overflowing with gratitude.
He stood still for a moment, then glanced down—and realized the cloth that had covered his waist was gone. His little brother was once again fully exposed to the world. But it didn't matter; there were bigger things to worry about.
He ventured deeper into the cave, where among the rocks lay a full skeleton, still dressed in tattered clothes, a worn hat resting atop its skull.
Creepy.
He hesitated to take the clothes—something about them felt off. Still, since they weren't being used, maybe it didn't matter. Then he noticed a bag lying beside the skeleton. Curious, he opened it and found it filled with nothing but scrolls. Among them, he pulled out a small one. Unfolding it, he saw what looked like a map marked with a red X.
He scratched his head. What was this supposed to be? Maybe this person had been searching for something… treasure, perhaps?
But the map meant nothing to him. Frustrated, he tossed it aside and continued searching the skeleton's pockets. There, he found another folded paper.
"To my dear wife Elara and my lovely daughter Maris…" He paused reading—this wasn't meant for him to see.
Carefully, he placed the letter back inside the bag and closed it.
And then he took the man's clothes, but they didn't fit. They were so old and fragile they tore easily. Instead, he used what he could to cover himself around the waist.
Time to move on.
He spotted an opening nearby and moved toward it. This time, unlike before, he managed to climb up and reach the upper level. Gripping the vines, he slowly made his way upward. Finally free, he found himself in a dense forest.
He stood still for a moment, watching with curiosity the birds singing above, the lizards darting over rocks, and the gentle sway of grass around him. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward.
But then he paused.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something round and wobbly, at first it seemed thin, but as it bounced closer, the shimmering, translucent blue body gave it away.
A Hydro Slime.
The slime turned slightly toward him, if that blob even had a front and jiggled in place, as if sizing him up.
He stared. It jiggled back.
For a brief, ridiculous moment, they were locked in what could only be described as a staring contest—man versus jelly orb.