"Are you still alive in there, lad?" The old man's voice filtered through faintly as he knocked on the door. The question and knocking caused Chris to blink and notice how the light through the small window had grown far dimmer.
Slowly and stiffly he stood up, cracked the door open carefully, and looked outside.
The old man stood there, his hands folded behind his back. "Good to see you're still breathing. You need to learn to be more careful, lad. Perhaps it was my fault for not stressing the dangers enough for you to understand. I thought saying the beasts were a bit more active would be enough of a warning." He said, shaking his head as he stepped inside once Chris properly opened the door and sat at the edge of the bed.
"I don't know what you were trying, but it drew a savage hound directly into the village itself. You're really lucky that it was starving or you wouldn't have outrun it. Whatever you planted is gone, though. After it couldn't get into your place, I watched it sniff the air and wave its damn tongue around before it wandered over to where you dug the spot up and swallowed it whole before licking its chops and wandering off." His eyes seemed to narrow and sharpen slightly onto Chris with visible frustration.
"And don't think I didn't notice you wasting the soup. Out here, fluid is precious, lad. Using it to grow something, while admirable as it might seem, was rather foolish. The scent of the few bits of meat in it was more than likely what drew it over."
The words hit like a slap as he felt hints of shame wash over him that managed to flicker through the fear. He'd wasted both food and fluid, as bitter as it may have been. Both valuable commodities out here according to the old man, and something he should have realized when he saw the half jar of water. He acted arrogantly, even after the old man explained the scarcity of both to him. It had even almost cost him his life.
The old man sighed, his gaze softening ever so slightly. "Tell me, lad, what were you even trying to grow? What even made you think you could in a place like this?" He prodded, hoping to find out what Chris was doing.
"I… I'm not from this world," Chris admitted quietly. "I died, and not even in a good way, and some old god brought me here to 'entertain' him. I thought I was going to be a hero. Or strong. Or… something." He said, voice cracking ever so slightly. "I thought it would be like in all the stuff I watched and read, but instead…" Tears began to sting his eyes now while struggling to find the words to say.
"Instead, you ended up in a backwater hell where people are sent to die with nothing of real use or knowledge of the world you found yourself in," the old man finished far too calmly.
Chris's head snapped to him in surprise, not expecting that or the calmness with which it was delivered.
"Well… yeah." He said, rubbing his eyes. "All I got was a bag of soil and seeds. The seeds are supposed to grow into anything I want or imagine, oh, and a skill that makes things grow faster and I can apparently even hear the plants. The soil's supposed to be potent enough to grow them just by mixing it with regular soil. I probably just used too little or missed something." He admitted.
"Or," the old man finally said thoughtfully, "you tried to grow something that doesn't exist. If you're meant to grow plants, they must be things that exist or can exist. Even if you're supposedly able to grow anything you want or imagine, it would still need to be able to be grown. We can test the limits tomorrow and properly find out how it works, lad, and think it over tonight. We can see what you can and can't grow and move forward from there." The old man continued with a gentle tone and face he couldn't seem to read as he slowly stood.
"For now you will need to eat and have some water. After a scare like that, your body will need it to help recover."
As he followed the old man, Chris hesitated for a brief moment, biting his lip before finally asking what had bothered him since seeing the old man's calmness to his confession. "You aren't surprised I'm from another world? Or upset that I lied?"
The old man simply handed him a cup of water and a few strips of dried meat from the small table in his room as they sat on his bed.
"You aren't the first I've seen, even though you will probably be the last," he said mildly. "The empires get your kind whenever they make moves during their wars or to deal with disasters." He said before pausing briefly, his eyes distant for a moment.
"The demons can even do it, after stealing the method ages ago to even the proverbial playing field by summoning their own generals on occasion, though far less often than the 'holy' empire because they have far fewer resources." He sounded almost amused by it.
They soon finished their meals with the old man telling him a few other things about the Barrens before Chris wandered back to his hut.
As soon as he closed the door, he took the rickety stool and wedged it against the door as best he could, wanting to try and secure it despite being told each hut carried an old enchantment that kept beasts from entering as long as the door was closed.
With a worn-out sigh, he lay onto the rough bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of everything finally began to settle in.
This wasn't an adventure. It was a life that was going to be anything but fair. There was nothing heroic or safe in this place. Only survival.
Tears slowly started to slip down his face before he could stop them. There was no golden finger. No system. No safety net. Nothing to help him like he had thought there would be. All his expectations shredded to pieces by the force of reality.
Eventually the lingering exhaustion claimed him and forced him to sleep, but it was restless, filled with visions of red eyes in the dark and snarling teeth along with the endless ways tomorrow might end him.