A Fragile Existence

The outside temperatures had cooled, and the green foliage of the trees had been replaced by autumnal hues.

“It’s already been six weeks since I ended up here… And yet it all still feels so distant to me, like a mirage, or a dream,” Haruto thought.

But deep down, he knew what he had experienced was real, even though part of him still refused to accept it. That faint glimmer of hope had motivated him to spend a few days wandering through the village and its surroundings.

Phone in hand and under the watchful eyes of the villagers, he had tried to get a signal. But without any luck, Haruto had reluctantly acknowledged that no one was coming to his aid.

Although grateful to the farmer and his wife for their hospitality, he could not ignore the poor conditions in which they lived.

“And this unfortunate couple is expecting a second child…” he thought.

More than ever, he longed to return home. With that goal firmly in mind, the young man decided he would need to gather information about the surrounding world.

To this end, Haruto had learned the basics of the spoken language used by the villagers. Strangely enough, it appeared to be derived from the English he was familiar with.

He had thus discovered that the man sheltering him was named Aristide, a simple farmer cultivating the land he had inherited from his ancestors in the hamlet of Pauweik.

He was assisted by his wife, Norea, who managed the household while caring for their son Klein, a lively and mischievous little boy. The young woman’s distrust of him, however, had not diminished in the slightest.

To reciprocate their kindness, Haruto had decided to help Aristide with his farm work and preparations ahead of winter.

“It’s the least I can do,” he thought.

❖

It was a bitterly cold autumn morning, but that hadn’t stopped Haruto from carrying on with his plans.

“Aristide, I’m going into the forest for a few hours to gather firewood,” he told him.

“Again? At this rate, you’ll end up providing for the whole village,” Aristide replied, looking puzzled.

When the young man hesitated, looking slightly downcast, the farmer sighed loudly and reminded him to be careful.

Haruto nodded, slipped on a wooden frame he’d fashioned after a military backpack and went on his way while the family was enjoying their lunch.

“Damn it! It’s freezing in this godforsaken place,” he complained, rubbing his hands together.

Despite the harsh wind, Haruto set off and followed the road that cut right through Pauweik.

After a few minutes, he stopped for a moment and glanced at his surroundings. “Perfect! There’s no one around,” he murmured before turning toward the forest, quickening his pace.

Haruto made his way slowly through the woods, eventually reaching a tree he recognized. A faint notch in the bark confirmed that he was indeed in the right spot.

“And normally…” Haruto frowned. “It should be here.”

He then walked around the tree and found a rock wedged between two large protruding roots. Lifting it carefully, he let out a sigh of relief when he saw his shoulder bag, hidden underneath and covered in dirt.

Haruto grabbed the bag and searched inside, finding his watch, his encyclopedia, his cell phone, his work documents, and a few other things.

The watch was still working, but it was impossible to wear it without drawing attention. Likewise, the book had suffered no water damage. Aristide’s shocked reaction when he’d taken it out of his backpack was still fresh in his memory. Shaking his head as if to rid himself of that bad experience, Haruto picked up the phone and turned it on briefly.

“At this rate, the battery’s going to die on me… and there’s still no way to recharge it,” he grumbled before turning it off and putting it back in the pack.

Next, he pulled out his encyclopedia, along with a pen and two sheets of paper covered in technical drawings.

Using the book as a makeshift tablet, he turned the documents to reveal their undersides. The first was covered in scribbles, while the second featured a hand-drawn map of the area.

“Where should I focus my efforts today?” he mused.

Suddenly, Haruto was interrupted by the crack of a branch. Startled, he spun around.

“Who’s there?!”

His eyes fell on a child of about seven years old, a little boy with a familiar face.

“Klein?! What are you doing here?”

“I… I was playing hide-and-seek with my friends… but I saw you leave and… I like your hiding spot,” the kid stammered.

“Damn it all! My stash is compromised,” Haruto thought,

realizing that the situation was now even worse than he’d imagined. There was no way to predict how Aristide and Norea would react when their son came home and told them about his adventure in the forest.

“What a nightmare?!” He let out an anguished sigh and determined that it was best to get this over with as quickly as possible and head back home.

Haruto knelt down, face-to-face with the child, and tried to force a smile.

“So, Klein? Would you like to help me gather some firewood for mom and dad?”

The boy’s eyes lit up immediately, and he began hopping up and down excitedly.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“All right, all right. But make sure I can always see you, understand?”

Klein immediately began running all over the place, enthusiastically gathering every twig he could.

Haruto couldn’t help but laugh heartily at the sight of this bundle of energy at work. In less than ten minutes, the wooden frame he was carrying was filled to the brim.

A powerful but brief gust of wind reminded him that it was time to take the little boy back to his parents.

Back in the hamlet of Pauweik, they headed toward Aristide and Norea’s home.

As they drew closer to their destination, Haruto noticed that something wasn’t right.

“A crowd? What’s going on?”

Feeling both worried and curious, the young man gripped the child’s hand firmly and cautiously moved closer.

The people gathered there were surrounding Norea, who was kneeling on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. Aristide stood behind her, trying to comfort her, but to no avail.

The farmer was the first to notice Haruto and his son. He quickly tapped his wife on the shoulder, pointing at Klein. At the sight of her child, Norea immediately threw herself at him and hugged him tightly.

“Are you okay, my darling?” she asked, her eyes still red and swollen.

“Yes, Mom.”

“But where on earth were you?”

“I was gathering wood in the forest for you and Dad,” Klein announced proudly.

“What?!”

The woman shot an angry glare at Haruto. Whispers and disapproving looks from the villagers only added to the unpleasant situation the young man now found himself in.

“It’s not at all what you think…”

“Haruto! Come with me!” Aristide cut in sharply.

Swallowing hard, he had no choice but to obey. He followed the farmer as he headed toward the back of the cabin. There, the man abruptly spun around and placed a large, calloused hand on one of Haruto’s shoulders, staring intently into the young man’s eyes.

Haruto turned ghostly white and held his breath, expecting a fist to smash into his face any second.

“Haruto. Thank you for bringing Klein back to us safe and sound. Sincerely,” Aristide finally said gently.

The young man stood there, speechless. His lips opened and closed, but no sound came out.

“Come on… did you really think I’d blame you for yet another adventure involving my son?” the father added with a hearty laugh.

“But what about Norea and the others?”

“They’re shaken up but relieved that you both came back unscathed from such an epic journey in the forest.”

“Huh? What you’re telling me doesn’t make any sense, Aristide.”

“You really aren’t from around here, are you?” the farmer said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It’s because of the silvgests.”

“Silvgests? What are those? Some kind of monster?”

“Yes… they’re creatures that live in the woods. According to legend, they take away those who dare to trespass on their territory, whether alone or in small groups.”

Haruto shook his head skeptically.

“Bullshit! That sounds like a horror story meant to scare kids away from wandering into the woods.”

“I didn’t make any of it up! I’ve got nothing to gain by lying to you,” Aristide replied defensively, continuing:

“The silvgests are part of the tales that have been passed down by our ancestors in Pauweik for generations. There must be some truth to it, right?”

“And let’s say I do believe you… do we even know what these creatures look like?”

“Some claim they look similar to us, so they can easily deceive their victims. Others describe them as huge monsters with pointed ears.”

“In short, there’s no clear agreement on the subject,” Haruto remarked sarcastically.

Haruto decided that it was best not to dwell on these local folklore stories. But neither could he ignore his first-hand experience. After all, he had faced a creature that looked as if it had stepped right out of a video game.

As rational as he tried to be, the young man had to reluctantly admit that he couldn’t always dismiss the impossible, especially in this world.

❖

A few days had passed since Klein and Haruto’s trip to the forest. Despite Aristide’s comforting words, Haruto noticed the renewed distrust the villagers had toward him. The situation was even more tense with Norea. She no longer bothered to speak to him and kept her son constantly within arm’s reach.

In his burning desire to return home, Haruto now faced a far more immediate obstacle. His knowledge of the region remained too limited, and the risk of being driven out of the village before winter was very real.

“I must win their trust at all costs… but how do I go about it?”

As he wandered through the heart of Pauweik, Haruto couldn’t stop thinking about the poor living conditions he’d witnessed since arriving in the area.

“Without electricity or streetlights, these people are completely reliant on daylight,” he mused, furrowing his brow.

However, another issue was, in his view, even more troubling.

“The well… it’s the only source of running water in Pauweik… but you have to draw it up, for heaven’s sake!”

It was therefore unthinkable to waste any of it to maintain even a semblance of personal hygiene.

Despite the village’s persistent stench, such limited access posed a serious health risk. The fact that a pandemic hadn’t broken out was nothing short of a miracle.

“I might as well focus on a simple and effective way to obtain water,” Haruto thought.

Installing a lever pump initially seemed like the best solution. However, the lack of supplies, including metal, threatened to turn this idea into a real headache.

Still unsure, the young man eventually returned to the cabin. As he was about to enter, his gaze was drawn to a pile of items lying by the door. He had walked past them hundreds of times without paying any attention, but this time, something piqued his curiosity.

Leaning down, he discovered a tangle of ropes in poor condition and a broken wagon wheel. He stared at the objects for a moment, and then a familiar idea struck him. It was a surprisingly effective method for reducing mechanical effort.

“Of course… a pulley system.”

Haruto decided that the various components could be carved out of wood, with the exception of a few key components: the support hooks and the pulley axles. These would have to be made from metal, but that shouldn’t be too difficult for a local blacksmith. Better yet, the mechanism could be built right into the village well.

A faint smile emerged. Here was his chance to make amends with Norea and the rest of Pauweik.

Eagerly, he hurried into the building. Tonight’s dinner would be the perfect time to present his idea to Aristide and Norea.

The next morning, Haruto strolled leisurely toward the blacksmith’s workshop. “According to Aristide,” he told himself, “this Bhelgor runs a shop not far from the river.”

After walking for a few minutes, he spotted the place around a bend in the road. The small building was located just outside the center of the hamlet. It was easily recognizable by its large chimney, from which thick smoke billowed.

As he approached the door, Haruto heard a deafening racket coming from inside. He hesitated for a moment before knocking three times with the heavy door ring.

“Hello? Could I trouble you for a moment?”

The noise ceased momentarily and then resumed with even greater intensity.

“Maybe he didn’t hear me…” he thought, pushing the door open.

A blast of scorching air engulfed Haruto, causing him to take a few steps back. The air was thick with the acrid smell of soot, burning metal, and perspiration.

A bald man with sweat streaming down his face stood in front of the forge at the center of the room.

A bit shorter than Haruto, the man was built like a bull and wore an apron blackened by years of hard labor. With one hand, he held a piece of metal heated to white-hot, which he hammered with the other.

Mouth agape, Haruto moved closer to the craftsman while taking in the surroundings.

With the blazing furnace that dominated the center of the room and the myriad of tools hanging on the walls, he realized that this was indeed an authentic medieval forge.

The blacksmith finally looked up and noticed the young intruder.

“Looking for something, kid? I don’t have time to waste if you’re not here for work.”

“Are you Bhelgor?” Haruto asked hesitantly.

The man set his tool down on the anvil, then straightened up and eyed Haruto from head to toe.

“Maybe. Who’s asking, and why?”

“My name is Haruto, and I’m here on Aristide’s suggestion to get my hands on a few pieces of metal,” replied the young man.

“Aristide, huh? And yet this is the first time I’ve seen you around here,” retorted the craftsman, raising an eyebrow.

Haruto paused for a second, aware that the success of his plan hinged on this conversation with Bhelgor.

“Listen… my goal is to make daily life easier for Norea, who is pregnant. Seeing her work herself to the bone like this makes me worry about her health,” he lied.

The blacksmith studied him closely, trying to gauge how serious he was, then sighed and said:

“You should’ve started with that from the beginning… So, what do you want from me, Haruto?”

“Would you be able to make three hooks the size of a fist, as well as two round rods as thick as your thumb and as long as a hand?”

The man grunted in agreement.

“Nothing too complicated… But do you have all the required materials with you?” asked Bhelgor.

“What about that box of scraps over there? That should do the trick, right?” he suggested.

The blacksmith shook his head.

“That’s not scrap; it’s work I still need to finish.”

A heavy silence fell over the shop. The metal object the blacksmith had been shaping had cooled, so he returned it to the furnace before resuming the conversation.

“Listen, kid… Your desire to help is commendable, but, as you can see, I’ve got plenty of work… And I don’t do charity.”

As the man went back to his work, Haruto cursed under his breath. He understood Bhelgor’s point of view perfectly well, but he was disappointed. Acting on his engineering instinct, Haruto immediately switched to problem-solving mode.

“What if I tried to negotiate with him? Maybe there’s a way to find common ground,” Haruto thought.

He carefully studied every corner of the shop looking for the slightest detail he could use to his advantage. The forge, the quenching basin, the anvil… and all those hand tools worn down by years of use. The sight of them stirred a familiar sense of nostalgia in the young engineer. He couldn’t help but reflect on the blessings of the world he came from.

Bhelgor’s last remarks echoed back to him. The blacksmith had said that he was buried in work.

“I could speed him up… Yes, that’s the solution!” thought Haruto with a satisfied smile.

Determined to get his way, the young man called out to Bhelgor, who was beginning to lose patience.

“Didn’t you get it the first time? I hope you have a good reason, or else you’re going to get my foot up your ass,” the man growled.

“No, no. I understood perfectly well what you were saying,” Haruto quickly interjected to defuse the situation.

He took a deep breath before continuing:

“What if I told you it was possible to build a device that would allow the hammer you’re holding to strike on its own, over and over again?”

“Bullshit! I knew I’d be wasting my time listening to this nonsense,” the blacksmith shouted.

Seeing that the talk was going south, the young man then made a risky bet with Bhelgor.

“Give me a week! If you’re not satisfied by then, I’ll work for you for a month, without asking for anything!”

“And if I’m satisfied with the result? I imagine you’ll want something in return?”

“Yes, that you provide the required metal for making the hooks and rods I spoke of earlier.”

With his arms crossed and one hand on his chin, the blacksmith began to ponder for what seemed like an eternity.

Once he’d finally made up his mind, he stepped toward Haruto and shook his hand with an iron grip.

“All right. I accept your offer. But I hope you’re not a wimp. The work here breaks your arms even faster than working in the fields,” he said with a chuckle.

❖

During the following week, Haruto didn’t waste a single second and got straight to work, beginning with the design of the mechanism.

The river running through the village flowed just a few meters behind Bhelgor’s shop. This fact had guided Haruto in his technical choices while preparing the drawings.

He drew inspiration from the images in his encyclopedia and spent two days refining his sketches, taking into account the terrain, its slope, and the strength of the river’s flow. Once the mental side of the job was completed, the actual construction began.

When he learned about the agreement between the two men, Aristide had initially scolded the young man. But he eventually accepted the situation and offered his help. He certainly didn’t want to lose a valuable worker just before the season’s final harvest.

Much to Haruto’s surprise, the farmer had a natural talent for woodworking. This eased the production of the assembly’s most complex components.

Seeing their enthusiasm and the project’s rapid progress as the days went by, the blacksmith lent his hand to the effort.

By the end of the sixth day, they had installed the final piece. Although it was large, heavy, and cumbersome, its installation marked the completion of the project.

The moment of truth came at dawn the following day when the young man placed a hand on the large wooden pin blocking the mechanism.

“Are you ready?”

The blacksmith nodded, and Haruto carefully removed the piece of wood. As the system sprang into action, the engineer recognized the familiar, rumbling sound of the ancient waterwheels from the mills of his world.

The axle, carved from a young tree trunk, vibrated before the cam attached to its end creaked and lifted the heavy hammer resting on the surface of the anvil.

A first metallic “clang” made the entire ground vibrate, followed by a second, more regular one, and so on.

Hearing the mechanical, rhythmic sound of the machine, Haruto couldn’t help but puff out his chest.

“It’s, it’s… I don’t know what to say,” gasped Bhelgor, amazed by what he saw before his eyes.

As if to make sure it wasn’t a dream, the blacksmith then grabbed a piece of glowing iron from his forge and began shaping it with surprising ease and speed.

With a broad smile on his face, the craftsman turned to the young engineer.

“Come back and see me tomorrow morning. I will have the parts you requested ready.”

❖

Thanks to the metal parts forged by Bhelgor, Haruto was able to finish assembling and installing the pulley system on the village well. Although rudimentary, the mechanism allowed the heavy, filled bucket to be lifted using only about a quarter of the effort previously required.

“Finally, it’s done! I hope it was worth it because I’m exhausted,” Haruto complained, wiping his forehead.

The male villagers were mostly indifferent. Indeed, the task of retrieving water was already routine for them. However, it was their wives who mostly used the well during their daily activities. These women, including Norea, were both delighted and surprised by the invention.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Norea finally murmured, with a sparkle in her amethyst eyes.

“Even my young son can draw water now,” another woman remarked with a laugh.

The flood of gratitude and compliments from the women continued for a while, which reassured Haruto about his immediate future.

Over the next two weeks, there were more and more signs of winter’s approach, which the locals called “The Darkness.” The trees had shed almost all their leaves, and the warm colors of autumn were giving way to gloomy shades of light brown and gray.

The race against time was well and truly on to finalize Pauweik’s preparations before the first snowfall. This sprint lasted three days, during which the frenzy within the hamlet had reached a peak.

Haruto and Aristide stood in front of a small barn located behind the couple’s cabin. Half the available space was currently occupied by the harvest, which was piled into wooden crates.

“So? What do you think, Aristide?” asked the young man, whose arms and back were aching.

“It’ll barely be enough to withstand The Darkness, but we’ll have to make do,” replied the farmer with a gloomy pout.

This surprised Haruto a little, given all the effort they had made. However, he decided that it was best not to dwell on the topic, especially since he didn’t yet know how harsh the winters in this world could be.

It was then that Haruto realized, at the same time as the farmer did, that someone was shouting not far away.

On high alert, Aristide was the first to locate and identify the source of the disturbance. It was Klein, running toward them. The little boy was being followed closely by Norea, who was struggling to keep up due to her advanced pregnancy. The father caught his crying child and bent down to look at his face.

“Calm down, Klein, I’m here,” he said gently, hugging his son close.

He shot a questioning glance at his wife. Panting and pale-faced, with her hands on her knees, she replied in a whisper:

“Cody’s farm!”

“Damn it! What on earth is going on at Cody’s farm?” Aristide roared in response.

“The Church! Cody spotted a Church patrol on the road near his farm… And they’re coming this way,” the woman said, sobbing.