After upgrading his skill, Aaron began to recall his memories. From them, he discovered that he had lived in White River Town, located beside White River, which flowed next to it.
The river was the lifeblood of the town. Its waters ran clear and cool, winding through the valley like a silver ribbon. Locals relied on it not just for drinking water, but also for food. The river teemed with life, trout, silverfish, river eels, and shelled creatures that clung to smooth rocks. Fishing wasn't just a job; it was a way of life.
Each morning, villagers would cast their nets and set traps along the riverbanks. By noon, market stalls brimmed with fresh catches, attracting traders from nearby regions. Grilled river fish and spicy clam stew were especially popular, often cooked with herbs gathered from the river's edge.
White River Town rests peacefully along the shimmering banks of the river that shares its name. The houses are mostly stone and wood, with sloped roofs and cozy courtyards tucked between narrow alleys. Flower pots line windowsills, and the air often carries the gentle tinkling of wind chimes.
The central market is a lively spine of the town, full of fishmongers shouting about their catch, herbalists laying out dried forest finds, blacksmiths sending sparks skyward, and tailors adjusting cloaks for seasoned wanderers. Street vendors add to the buzz with sizzling skewers and spiced stew that warms both hands and spirits.
Just off the square stands the Adventurer Guild, a sturdy two-floor haven with a crest of swords over waves. Inside, a crowded notice board overflows with missions, and a downstairs tavern hums with rowdy stories and clinking mugs. Above, the guild master oversees ranks and contracts with weary wisdom.
Watching from a hill is the City Lord's mansion, its white walls framed by silver-blue banners and guarded by watchtowers and stone walls. The Lord is known for his caution and fairness, quietly weaving protection and diplomacy into the town's future. His estate boasts lush gardens and a quiet library of ancient river lore.
Nature surrounds the town like a gentle embrace, willows, birches, and pines whisper along the river's edge, while birds and fireflies dance in the early twilight.
Roads wind through it all, paved and polished in the center, dusty or muddy at the edges, with wooden signs pointing travelers toward the docks, farmlands, and guild hall. And though hidden on the outskirts, the slums breathe with quiet resilience. Made of patched wood and cloth, these homes hold families that share what little they have, food, laughter, and dreams. Some of their children practice secretly, hoping to become adventurers and rewrite their stories.
Although White River Town was surrounded by strong, tall walls, danger lurked just beyond its borders. The wildlands outside teemed with low-level monsters, slimes squelching through the grass, goblins hiding in bushes, and packs of hungry wolves prowling the woods. These creatures gathered near the town, drawn by food scraps, noise, or the scent of human life.
To keep the town safe, soldiers and adventurers worked constantly. Patrol teams watched the gates, and battle squads hunted nearby threats before they could get too close. Most of the time, the monsters came in small groups, easily handled. But if they were left unchecked or provoked, things could turn deadly.
When too many monsters gathered at once, it led to a terrifying event known as a Monster Tide, a massive, chaotic swarm of hundreds or even thousands of creatures charging toward the walls like a living flood. In the worst cases, these tides broke through defenses, breached the town, and brought destruction. Fires, collapsing buildings, and countless casualties often followed such attacks.
Because of this threat, the town treated monster control seriously. The Adventurer Guild offered daily quests for monster extermination, and some soldiers specialized in scouting and ambush tactics. Local children were raised with stories of past tides, how heroes rose, how towns burned, and how vigilance saved lives.
As Aaron pieced together his memories, one thing became clear, he had hardly any friends growing up. Most children kept their distance, and he often spent his days alone, wandering through White River Town with nothing but silence for company. If not for Mr. Broke, the kindly old man who ran the dusty pawn shop near the corner of the market, Aaron might not have survived at all.
Mr. Broke had noticed the quiet, hungry boy lingering near his shop and offered him a small role, an errand boy. The job was simple: deliver parcels, clean up the clutter, and fetch supplies from nearby stalls. But to Aaron, it meant everything. It gave him a reason to wake up, a few coins to buy food, and someone who spoke to him without judgment.
The pawn shop itself was a place of odd treasures and forgotten stories. Its shelves held cracked instruments, faded books, and rusted trinkets that people traded for coin or memories. Aaron learned to tell which items were junk and which held secret value.
The body's previous owner had worked at a pawn shop for four years, saving up 4 silver coins to pay for the Awakening ceremony. But now, the ceremony wasn't needed.
He had already spent 1 silver coin on ritual materials, leaving him with 3 coins.
After thinking it over, he decided to quit the pawn shop and join the Adventurer's Guild. As an adventurer, he could take on tasks and earn more coins than he used to.
Once he had gathered his thoughts, he cleaned up the ritual mess and wiped away the blood stains from the floor. Then he took a bath and put on a shirt and pants.
After getting dressed, he stepped in front of the mirror. Staring back was a sixteen-year-old boy, his skin pale, his frame thin from years of hardship. His black hair fell loosely over his forehead, slightly messy but clean. Despite the signs of struggle etched into his body, his face held a calm, almost detached expression. It was the look of someone who had endured much but refused to be shaken. There was no trace of panic or confusion in his eyes, only quiet acceptance, like he had already begun to move on from the life that came before.