I fell into a bit of a routine over the next few days, having discovered a newfound determination that I had no idea I was capable of. I chopped. And chopped. And then chopped a little bit more.
I soon graduated from branches, the strength gains drying up rather quickly. I put on my big boy pants and moved on to actually trying to cut down a tree. I'd been at it for a day or so, and I'd managed to hack around halfway through a particularly impressive trunk. I'd reached a colossal strength level of 5, and I swaggered around the place, knowing that I'd undoubtedly be the envy of the other trial-takers.
Wait, hadn't the robot mentioned a leaderboard? How was I supposed to check my position?
A line of text appeared:
Leaderboard functionality will unlock after one month.
I was outraged. Reading my mind? Did aliens not receive lessons on consent? I pushed those thoughts aside and considered what I'd read. A month? I smiled. Plenty of time to chop wood.
The days passed by in a blissful state of tedious repetition. I'd never been one for sticking with things, but the 'will it happen this time?' aspect of the strength gains was a superb carrot on a stick. Honestly, I was addicted to the thrill. In the spirit of my newly acquired interest, I'd decided to let my beard grow. If I truly wanted to channel the spirit of a lumberjack, I should at least look the part.
Besides, I didn't fancy shaving with a knife.
The first of my truly alien experiences happened during my second week. I was minding my own business, deep in my 'godly lumberjack trance', when I was rudely interrupted.
"You're weird," said a squeaky voice.
The gains in my strength made themselves known when I jumped nearly fifteen metres into the air. When I landed, I spun around on the spot, brandishing my axe while putting on what I'm sure was a truly terrifying expression. There was no one around.
"Who said that? I'm warning you – I know how to use this axe!" I roared. My voice definitely didn't tremble. Nope… not at all.
"Up here, numb nuts," came the voice again.
Gulping, I looked up. The last time something told me to look up, I'd had to spend the next hour with a douchey floating robot. Thankfully, it wasn't ARCHON-734. It was a… squirrel. That could talk.
"I'm aware you know how to use that axe," it said. "I've watched you cutting down trees for the past three days. Like I said… weird."
Its words broke through the stupor I'd been trapped in while my brain tried to process the absurdity of what I was seeing.
"You've been watching me for three days and I'm the weird one?" I replied, scandalised.
"… Fair comment," it said. I could tell that it pained it to admit that I had a point. I smirked.
"Squirrels can't talk where I'm from," I said.
"I don't know what a squirrel is. It sounds like a pitiful creature to me, and I'm most certainly not pitiful!" it squeaked.
I had no idea such a squeaky voice could convey that level of indignation. It truly was a remarkable… squirrel.
"Oh really?" I asked, my eyebrow raised as I looked it over. Grey fur. Pointy teeth. Fluffy tail. I'm pretty sure it matched the description of a squirrel. However, being the graceful individual I am, I chose not to press the issue.
"Indeed," it said, somehow managing to puff out its chest. "I'm a proud and noble arboreal observer."
"I see…" I said slowly. "So, you're a creature who observes from the trees?"
"I am."
"Ahh, in that case, I apologise," I replied. My face was desperately trying to break into a smirk. Bad face. No. I managed to respond with the appropriate degree of gravity and respect. "I was foolish to compare you to the simple squirrels that dwelt on my home planet."
The creature nodded gravely in response.
"So…," I said. "What should I call you? It's been pretty lonely out here so having a friend would be nice."
"Hmm," it said, running a scrutinising eye over me as if considering whether I was worthy to call it friend. "Your primitive tongue would not be able to form the sounds of my name."
"You need a name. I can't just call you 'arboreal observer' every time I want to get your attention. Let me think…"
I paused and lifted one hand to my face, tapping a finger on my lips as I gave the serious decision the gravitas it deserved.
"I'm going to call you… Rel. You are a boy squi… arboreal observer, right?" I asked.
It tilted its head slightly as it considered my words.
"Rel is a noble-sounding name… I think I can live with that. And yes, I'm a male of my species."
"That's great! My name's Julian, by the way. But you can call me Jules," I replied, giving my new friend my warmest smile. "Rel… I'm currently embarked on the most important of missions. I have just under twelve months to prove myself worthy to take part in a galaxy-wide event that sounds like it involves lots of violence."
Rel snorted in amusement. Huh, who knew squirrels could snort?
"I'm not sure ten years would be enough for that – never mind eleven months," said Rel, swishing his tail regally. "However, I suppose I could mentor you and provide some guidance."
Make fun of me will you? "That is incredibly kind of you," I said, bowing my head in respect. "Come to think of it… back on Earth – the planet I'm from – there used to be these people called 'knights'. They were heroes who went on noble quests – you know, things like rescuing maidens and what not. Well, anyway, knights would have people who would guide and support them. They were called 'squires'. It was truly a very important and respected role."
Rel nodded along thoughtfully as I spoke.
"This sounds very much like that situation. I'm the knight on a quest, and you'll be the squire who guides me. Your official title could be… Squire Rel."
Rel's chest puffed out even further than before.
"Julian, I would be honoured to assist you on your quest."
And that's the story of how I met my best friend.