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  Remnant

  By Randi Darren

  Copyright © 2019 Randi Darren

  Cover design © 2019 Randi Darren

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means - except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews - without written permission from its publisher.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Copyright © 2019 Randi Darren

  All rights reserved.

  Dedicated:

  To those who know me

  One

  Steve blinked twice and looked around. He was standing in the middle of what looked like a bare dirt field.

  To the west of the field was the start of a forest. In the south, a decently sized lake. To the north and east were empty fields of grass.

  “Where the hell am I?” Steve asked.

  Looking down at himself, he could see he was wearing a black windbreaker, brown shirt, dark blue jeans, and work boots.

  “Just what exactly is going on?” he said to no one. As no one was around.

  Steve was completely alone here.

  In this field.

  Off to one side of him were two large wool sacks.

  Beside that was a large, open-topped wooden tool box.

  Moving over to inspect it, he found more or less what his mind had told him should be inside.

  Various small and medium-sized tools. Like hammers, chisels, mallets, a saw, and other things he wasn’t even sure of the use for.

  Next to that was a hoe, a pick, a shovel, a scythe, an axe, and a watering can.

  “Hello?” Steve called aloud.

  “Is anyone here?” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

  Welcome.

  Steve froze, staring at the window that popped up in front of him.

  There was a small button in the corner that said, “Proceed.”

  Reaching out, Steve tapped it with a fingertip.

  Year 1- Season: Spring

  Name: Steve

  Again, he saw a proceed button that needed to be touched.

  Spring seeds are now viable and will begin to grow.

  Steve hit the proceed button.

  Except no further window appeared. There was nothing else to be read.

  Frowning, Steve looked at the sacks.

  “I guess I’m supposed to… farm? Before that, though… what the hell?” Steve asked, looking around again.

  He was still alone.

  “I don’t know how I got here… I don’t… I don’t even know who I am other than my name. I don’t know where I am. Or what this is. And those weird windows that pop up. They remind me of—”

  Steve’s thoughts blanked.

  There was something just out of reach in his memory. The windows reminded him of something, but he couldn’t recall what.

  Sighing, Steve knelt down where he stood and poked his fingers into the dirt a few times.

  It felt like dirt. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

  “I have no food, a water source that is probably drinkable. But I can’t boil it, as far as I can tell, and I have no idea what’s going on. This feels like a horror story,” Steve said.

  He moved over to the sacks, resolving himself to see what he had to work with.

  Inside the first huge sack, he found potatoes. An endless amount of potatoes.

  “Hey now, lookie here. If this was a mission to Ma… a mission to… to where?” Steve frowned, his memory failing him again.

  Grumbling, Steve closed the sack and looked at the second one.

  It was full of smaller sacks, and each of those was full of seeds he couldn’t even begin to identify, though no two sacks were the same.

  “You’re not an idiot, Steve. This is clearly an abnormal situation. It isn’t normal, and this whole thing is strange,” Steve said to Steve. “Your memory isn’t normal. That window thing isn’t normal.

  “We’re in… something. Something abnormal. The loser part of me wants to run as fast and as far as I can. Which would be a bad end, I think. Fleeing from here is the wrong answer. Especially when clearly so many things have been prepared for me.”

  Steve moved over to the wooden-handled tools and picked up the hoe.

  “I have no memory of being anywhere else, or even how to use this tool.

  “Now that I think about it, I don’t know a thing about… farming.”

  Frowning, Steve set the hoe on his shoulder and glared at it.

  “What is it that I do? The ground doesn’t look… farmed,” Steve said, looking at the dirt around him. “Is that the word? Farmed? Tilled?”

  He lifted the hoe off his shoulder and experimentally tried hitting the dirt with it.

  Suddenly, the dirt five feet in front of him radically changed itself. One moment it was packed dirt, and the next it wasn’t. It looked as if it had been repeatedly hacked at and churned up.

  Looking at the hoe in surprise, Steve squinted at it.

  “You seem quite normal, though. I mean… you’re a piece of wood with a metal bit on the end of it. The end.”

  After giving the tool in question a shake, Steve waited.

  Nothing happened.

  He moved several steps over on the dirt till he was standing in front of a fresh, untouched patch, eying the ground. Then he hit it with the hoe again.

  Once more, for five feet in front of him, the soil changed.

  Steve has become better with the Hoe. Skill now classed as beginner. Soil will have a better effectiveness.

  “Buh?” Steve asked, peering at the window. Closing it, he stared at the hoe again. This time he practically glared at it. Forcing all his concentration on it.

  Masterful Hoe

  Increased efficiency

  Increased speed of use

  Increased usability

  Indestructible

  ~pt3. way. Then I traded our memories for better tools and start. Sor—

  Steve dropped the hoe at the sudden window, not sure how to proceed. Licking his lips, he thought on the entire situation.

  The fact that he’d managed to see the hoe as something other than a normal hoe this time made him incredibly nervous, and leery of the tool. Especially since there seemed to be a message in it.

  Feeling brave, Steve picked up the shovel and tried to do the same thing he had for the hoe. He stared at it intently.

  Masterful Shovel

  Increased efficiency

  Increased speed of use

  Increased usability

  Indestructible

  ~Steve, it’s Steve. I can’t explain it all, but you need to farm as bes—

  Success! But… that seems like a message, doesn’t it?

  Dropping the shovel, Steve picked up the scythe, only to discover it was a different line of the message that he didn’t need yet.

  He picked up the axe and tried to invoke the window again.

  ~pt2. t as you can. I picked a spot for us in a territory out of the—

  Steve moved to the pick.

  ~pt4. ry but it was needed. Use the tools, plant, live. We already fai—

  Dropping the pick, Steve grabbed the watering can.

  ~pt5. led once at this. If you get the chance, turn the farm into a vi

  The scythe came went next.

  ~pt6. llage. It’ll help in the long run. That’s all I can do. Good luck

  Steve frowned and looked down at the tools as they lay in a pile. Then he read it through one time from start to finish.

  Steve, it’s Steve. I can’t explain it all, but you need to farm as best as you can. I picked a spot for us in a territory out of the way. Then I traded our
memories for better tools and start. Sorry but it was needed. Use the tools, plant, live. We already failed once at this. If you get the chance, turn the farm into a village. It’ll help in the long run. That’s all I can do. Good luck

  “I guess that answers some things. And apparently I did this no-memories thing to myself.”

  Reaching into the sack with seeds, Steve pulled one of the smaller sacks out.

  “And what, I just take the bag and sprinkle it on the soil? Think happy thoughts and…”

  Steve grabbed a handful of seeds, only to have them vanish.

  The ground he was standing in front of shifted again, the churned soil becoming small raised mounds instead.

  “Uhm… alright… then. Happy thoughts it is. That’s certainly easier than trying to plant it by hand, I guess.”

  Steve looked at the bag in his hand. Then the field.

  “Let’s… do this the right way. The OCD way. All dirt will be hoed, then planted, then… watered?

  “In that order. Yes.

  “Good job, Steve. Thanks, Steve. Real team player, Steve.”

  ***

  Sighing, Steve dragged his wrist across his brow. He’d spent the last… well, day, he guessed, planting his field.

  Not a single seed remained, and the entire field had been tilled and seeded. All he had left were grains and things that required a bit more attention than just shoving in the dirt.

  “Apparently previous me planned everything out well enough. I’ll trust in me. Good job Past Steve. If I have to do this again, I’ll plan for Future Steve. You’ll be proud,” promised Steve.

  The sun was starting towards the distant horizon. He only had a few hours left before it would set.

  Only now did he realize he had nowhere to sleep.

  Nor any bedding material.

  Looking to the woods, Steve contemplated what to do.

  At the same time, his stomach growled. He also felt like he was dying of thirst.

  “Damn. Maybe there’s… something edible in the forest? Like… berries… or… something?” Steve said. “I can’t eat a raw potato, damn it. Pretty sure that’s poisonous. I think.”

  Grumbling, he snatched up the watering can. Briefly, he considered what’d happen if he drank untreated water. Then he realized it didn’t matter. Dying of dehydration wouldn’t do him much good either. So he began to drink out of the front of it. And drank.

  And drank.

  Until there was no room left in him, and his stomach felt not so empty.

  “Blegh. Tastes like dirt. Lots of dirt.”

  Setting the can down, he grabbed the axe and looked to the forest again.

  “Guess we’ll see if I can make a log cabin with no experience, no knowledge, and only an axe.

  “Whatever. The alternative is, you know, get used to sleeping on the ground. In the middle of a field. With whatever animals come out at night.

  “Right out of the forest, looking for a meal—it’d see the dumb Human, shivering away in the grass.”

  Grumbling, Steve walked into the woods and left his field for the first time.

  When he stepped between two large trees, he immediately felt it was different. Not just that he wasn’t in his field, but he might as well have been in a different country.

  Looking back over his shoulder, he could still see his field.

  He gripped his axe firmly and looked at a nearby tree.

  Setting his feet apart, he cocked the axe back and swung at the base of the tree.

  Only to have the trunk explode in chunks where he’d struck it with the axe.

  Instantly, the tree toppled over, crashing through other trees and striking the ground with a loud thud.

  “Uh,” Steve said intelligently. “Probably could have planned that better. Like trying to get it to fall into the field and not in the spooky fucking forest of Steve-eating monsters.

  “But how was I supposed to know I’d blow it the fuck up like the jolly green… jolly… whatever.”

  Stomping over to the fallen tree, Steve measured out what he felt like would be long enough for one wall.

  “I mean… it’s just like that toy set we played with. Linco… Linco… I can’t remember the name. Or… anything about them… other than the shapes.

  “Damn it, Past Steve, trading our memories away doesn’t seem like a good plan anymore,” Steve said. “I’m going to treat Future Steve so much better.”

  He lifted the axe, then brought it down on the log. Another explosion of wood chips and sawdust blew out from the tree.

  Grabbing a branch on the huge section of tree he wanted, he began dragging the whole thing out of the forest.

  “Yeah, gonna end up sleeping on the ground tonight at this rate,” Steve grumbled as he dragged it along. It was back-breaking work, and slow, but he had to do this.

  “Sounds great. Sleep out in the open. Next to the spooky horror woods where I’m sure a serial killer lives. Or a god-damned werewolf.”

  After dropping the tree trunk in the grass next to his field, Steve grumpily headed back into the trees.

  “That or I just get gutted like a fish before nightfall even comes.” Steve moved to the next part of the tree he wanted to cut down. “Gonna jump out at me and—EEEEEH!”

  A woman had appeared in front of him, stepping out from between two trees. At Steve’s scream at the top of his lungs, she’d fallen down on her rear end in front of him.

  She stared up at him while he stared back down at her.

  Except Steve followed up his previous screech with another, lifting the axe above his head and intending to bring it down on the woman.

  “Wait, wait, wait!” shouted the woman. Steve noticed she had long obsidian colored curling horns coming out from the sides of her head.

  She was holding her hand up in front of herself, her head tilted to one side. Large ears, where normal Human ears should be, were set in the sides of her head and pulled straight back.

  She was dressed in what looked like a woolen tunic and trousers. Though the fabric had rents in it and looked like it’d been worn consistently for days. Short, black, curly hair sat around her head in a tangled mass.

  And, strangest of all, set in that pale pretty face were a pair of dark-brown slotted eyes.

  Like a goat’s eyes.

  All in all, she had the look of someone who would be wandering around in the woods.

  Steve hesitated, the axe held above his head.

  The fear in him demanded he bring the axe down and put the goat lady to death.

  “Wait, I mean no harm!” she called, her hand moving up higher.

  Steve’s response was to crank the axe further back.

  “Stop!” she cried. “I mean no harm. I was just lost, and I followed the noise! Really!”

  Shivering from head to toe, Steve didn’t know what to do.

  “Ok,” Steve said, his voice quivering. “Ok… just… ok. I’m just… chopping down trees. So… keep away.”

  Keeping his eyes on her, Steve walked over to the fallen tree he’d been working on.

  He looked down quickly to the section of tree and judged that it was roughly the same length as the previous one, so he brought the axe down.

  With an explosion of wood chips, the tree broke into two parts. The section he was in front of could be used as a log later, but the other he wasn’t sure of. It looked much thinner comparatively.

  After grabbing the tree by a thick branch, Steve started dragging it back to his field. The entire time he did so, he kept his eyes on the goat woman.

  For her part, she remained at the edge of the tree line, watching him as he struggled.

  Not saying anything, she left the line of trees, grabbed hold of the would-be log by a branch, and started helping him.

  She practically outran him, though, pushing the log faster than he’d been moving it by himself.

  When they dropped it next to the first, he eyed her questioningly. She was several inches shorter than him.

 
“What do you want?” he asked finally.

  “Ah… I could use a place to sleep,” she said. “Maybe some food. I can help you. It looks like you’re going to build a cabin here?”

  Her attitude was odd, and Steve couldn’t quite place it. To him it felt like her fear of him had partially faded and been replaced with curiosity.

  Curiosity and a strange… excitement.

  Eying her, he realized she was further removed from Human than he’d originally thought. Her feet were cloven hooves, and it looked like fur was peeking out from the bottom of her pant leg.

  In fact, it looked like a small, fluffy tail was sticking out from between her tunic and trousers as well.

  “Yeah,” Steve said, fixing his eyes to her face. “But I don’t have anything to feed you with. That was going to be the next thing to work on. I guess.

  “Didn’t know what to do, so I just started chopping trees.”

  “Ah… I see,” said the goat woman. “I’m Nikki. Well, Nikkolett, really, but I go by Nikki. As far as food goes, we’ll figure out something tomorrow morning. Maybe try our luck at fishing.”

  “Uh… yeah… hi Nikki,” Steve said, feeling rather awkward. Setting his axe to his shoulder, he frowned.

  Nikki’s head had turned toward his box of tools and the two branch-laden logs he’d moved over there.

  “Oh, perfect. I’ll start working on the branches. You go get more trees,” Nikki said, moving over to the toolbox. She pulled out some sort of saw, and what Steve felt like was a damn short sword.

  Shit.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  Hefting the blade lightly, she turned back to the tree and started to hack off smaller branches with it.

  Grimacing, but not really knowing how to respond, Steve looked from the goat woman to the trees.

  She’s helping. I guess.

  She can… get them trimmed to actual logs while I get more trees.

  Ok… uh… yeah. She’s a goat woman. I guess.

  Nikki the goat woman.

  Steve glanced at her chest and let his eyes rest there for several seconds. Then he shrugged his shoulders and set out for the trees.

  A goat woman with a great rack. Damn.

  Unable to help himself, Steve glanced over his shoulder as he walked away and got an eyeful of Nikki bending over the tree.