Chapter 19: The Road to Somewhere New
[Day 27 — Weather: Clear | Location: Tanvin's Base]
Morning came with a bright sky and gentle wind. After a week of peaceful routine—tending crops, expanding his house, and journaling under the Ember Tree—Tanvin stood at the edge of his small hilltop base, looking toward the horizon.
He had been thinking about it for days.
"I should find a village."
The idea felt both exciting and strange. So far, everything he had built was with his own two hands. Alone. But the world was vast, and villagers—if they existed—might help him understand this place better.
Maybe they had maps. Maybe answers. Maybe bread.
He packed carefully: iron sword, pickaxe, shovel, bow, food, compass, and water bucket. He left a note on the table inside his home.
> Gone exploring. Back soon. Probably.
> Take care of the tree.
---
[Midmorning: The Journey Begins]
Tanvin descended the hill and crossed the field of tall grass and wildflowers that spread beyond the forest edge. Birds chirped overhead. Rabbits darted away at his footsteps. The peacefulness of the world didn't feel empty—it felt alive.
He followed the river eastward, deciding to keep the sun on his right for now. Along the way, he placed occasional cobblestone pillars with torches on top, marking his trail.
[System Message: Exploration Path Marked — Route 1 Begun]
After about an hour of walking, he reached a small birch forest. Sunlight filtered through the pale leaves, dancing in patterns on the ground. He stopped briefly to collect mushrooms and a few berries.
His inventory slowly filled, but not with anything heavy—just signs of life. The quiet made everything feel personal, as if the world was guiding him gently forward.
---
[Noon: A Small Surprise]
As Tanvin exited the forest, he spotted something unusual in the distance: a single chimney of smoke, thin and curling into the sky.
He crouched instinctively.
"Not a campfire," he murmured. "Too steady."
He climbed a nearby hill and peeked through his spyglass.
There it was. A tiny outpost. Not pillagers. Just a lone house, with a fenced garden and a stable. A scarecrow stood in the field.
Tanvin's heart skipped.
It wasn't a full village. But it was something.
He approached carefully, sword sheathed, hands raised.
The door opened slowly.
A villager peeked out. His nose twitched. His robe was brown with a hint of green. Not a nitwit—maybe a farmer.
The villager stared for a moment, then gave a single, approving nod.
[System Message: You have discovered a Hermit Farmer — Neutral Status]
"Hi," Tanvin said awkwardly. "I'm Tanvin. I live west of here."
The villager responded with a quiet "Hmm."
It wasn't a conversation. But it was a beginning.
---
[Afternoon: Rest and Trade]
Tanvin helped replant the villager's beetroot garden and repaired a broken fence post. In return, the hermit allowed him to rest under the awning beside his house.
The two sat in silence for a while, sipping stew.
Tanvin placed a few items on the ground—some string, a few emeralds, and a wooden sword enchanted with Knockback I.
The farmer examined them, grunted, and in return offered:
> 1 Hay Bale
> 6 Arrows
> 1 Potion of Minor Healing
[System Message: Trade Completed — Reputation Neutral+]
It wasn't much. But the feeling of trading, of existing with someone else, filled a quiet gap inside Tanvin's chest he hadn't noticed before.
"I'll keep looking for a village," he said aloud. The hermit didn't respond, just pointed eastward with a hoe.
---
[Evening: Camp Under the Stars]
That night, Tanvin set up a small camp by the riverside. A crackling fire. A temporary bed made of wool and logs. He stared up at the stars, listening to the sounds of the night—frogs, owls, and the distant murmur of water.
He sang again.
> "Through forest paths and fields so wide,
> I walk beneath the endless sky.
> With tools in hand and heart awake,
> The world is mine to meet, not break."
The Root Compass, still in his pack, remained quiet.
But Tanvin's heart felt ready now.
Tomorrow, he would continue east.
Somewhere out there, a village was waiting. People were waiting.
But tonight, the road was his