Episode 5: The Hill That Watches
The soreness never truly left.
It lingered in my shoulders when I woke, in my thighs when I stood, in the small joints of my hands when I flexed them. But it was different now. Familiar. Almost… negotiated.
Pain no longer asked if I would stop. It waited to see when.
I lay still for a moment, staring at the low ceiling as morning light crept through the cracks. The blue icon pulsed patiently, like a quiet heartbeat.
I opened the interface.
Health: 66/100
Stamina: 51/100
Over half. Solidly over.
The numbers steadied something inside me. Not excitement. Not relief.
Confidence.
I swung my legs off the bed and stood without thinking about it.
No warning.
No dizziness.
Just weight settling into my feet.
"That," I murmured, surprised despite myself, "is new."
Outside, Oakhaven was already awake. It always was. This village didn't afford the luxury of slow mornings. Every hour unused was hunger waiting in the future.
Borin was gone—forge already lit, hammer ringing in its steady rhythm. He didn't check on me anymore. That, too, felt like progress.
I ate what had been left—bread, hard cheese, water—and noted the System's quiet acknowledgment.
[Health +2]
[Stamina +4]
Still no mana.
Still locked.
But closer.
As I stepped outside, I felt it again.
That sense of being watched.
Not in the way prey feels a predator—no sharp edge, no fear spike—but like standing in front of a mirror you hadn't noticed before. Awareness, reflected back at me.
Aldric.
The old man stood near the path that led uphill, staff planted firmly in the dirt. The shrine hill rose behind him, bare and gray against the pale sky. I hadn't seen anyone go up there since arriving in this body.
He didn't wave.
Didn't call out.
He just waited.
I hesitated only a second before walking toward him.
Each step felt… deliberate.
As if the ground itself were paying attention.
"You walk better today," Aldric said when I was close. His voice was thin but steady, like wire pulled tight. "Still strange. But better."
"I work," I replied.
A corner of his mouth twitched. "So I heard."
He turned without another word and began up the hill.
No invitation.
No explanation.
Just expectation.
I followed.
The climb was longer than it looked. The hill wasn't steep, but it was uneven, littered with stones and patches of stubborn grass. My breath grew heavier as we ascended.
Stamina: 51/100 → 38/100
Manageable.
The shrine itself was nothing impressive—just a circle of standing stones, weathered and cracked, arranged around a shallow depression in the earth. No carvings. No symbols. Just stone and sky.
Old. Quiet.
Important.
Aldric leaned on his staff and looked at me, really looked this time. Not my posture. Not my gait.
My eyes.
"You carry yourself like someone who has already died," he said.
My heart skipped.
"That happens sometimes," he continued calmly. "Folk survive plagues. Wars. Accidents. Something breaks loose inside them."
He tapped his temple lightly. "They see farther. Ask wrong questions."
I swallowed. "Is that dangerous?"
"Depends," he said. "On who notices."
The System was silent.
No warnings.
No alerts.
Which meant this wasn't a trigger.
It was a choice.
"Sit," Aldric said.
I obeyed, lowering myself onto a flat stone near the center. The air felt different here. Thinner. Sharper. As if the sound didn't linger as long.
Aldric circled me slowly.
"Terra Antigua is not kind to those who change it," he said. "But it tolerates those who understand it."
"What do you understand?" I asked.
He smiled faintly. "That most people mistake survival for living."
He stopped in front of me. "Tell me, boy—what do you want?"
The question hit harder than any labor.
What did I want?
Not survival. I already had that.
Not power. Not yet.
I thought of winter fields. Of empty granaries. Of children working until their hands bled.
"I want to make things… less fragile," I said slowly. "Systems that don't collapse when one thing goes wrong."
Aldric's eyes sharpened.
"Say that again."
"Everything here is balanced on luck," I continued, emboldened now. "Bad weather. Bad sickness. Bad timing. One failure and everything breaks. That's not strength. That's gambling."
Silence stretched between us.
Then—
[Hidden Knowledge Check: Passed]
The blue text appeared softly, almost reluctantly.
Aldric inhaled sharply.
"So," he said quietly. "You do see it."
"See what?"
"The cracks," he replied. "In the world. In people. In systems."
My pulse quickened.
"You're not a mage," Aldric continued. "Not a priest. Not blessed by any god I know. But you observe like a scholar and endure like a laborer."
He leaned closer. "That makes you dangerous."
A new sensation stirred in my chest—not fear.
Anticipation.
"What are you?" I asked.
He chuckled. "Old. Curious. Still alive."
Then his tone shifted, becoming serious. "There are others who notice those who change patterns. Lords. Orders. Churches. They do not like variables."
The System chimed again.
[New Hidden Quest Unlocked: The Watching Hill]
[Objective: Survive attention.]
[Reward: Unknown]
My breath caught.
Survive attention?
Aldric straightened. "If you wish to keep asking questions," he said, "you must learn when to stay silent."
He tapped the stone at my feet with his staff.
"Return here when your body is whole," he added. "When the blue fire you carry stops flickering and begins to burn."
Blue fire.
Mana.
He knew.
Before I could ask anything else, he turned and began down the hill, leaving me alone among the stones.
The wind rose suddenly, cold and sharp.
I stood slowly, heart pounding.
Health: 68/100
Stamina: 29/100
My body was tired.
My mind was racing.
On the way back to the village, I noticed things I hadn't before.
How paths funneled people.
How tools were shared—or hoarded.
How the forge acted as a social center, not just a workplace.
Nodes. Flows. Pressure points.
By the time I reached Borin's forge, something new had settled inside me.
Not ambition.
Responsibility.
That night, as I lay staring at the ceiling, the System finally spoke again.
[Quest Progress: Recovery – 79% Complete]
[Condition Approaching Threshold: Mana Pool Unlock]
My chest tightened.
Soon.
But Aldric's warning echoed louder than the promise.
Survive attention.
Because power wasn't the most dangerous thing in this world.
Being noticed was.
As sleep claimed me, one final thought lingered, sharp and uneasy.
I had wanted to change the rules.
But now the rules are looking back.
And they had begun to watch.