The journey up the river took two months.
As the weeks passed, the river wound through the vast, forested expanse of the Wildlands.
Diven took the time to calm his emotions and examine his situation.
It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t as dire as he thought.
His parents not being there to see him leave still stung. His friends abandoning him, his grandparents, his clan... The whole ordeal with his rot attunement and his bloodline weighed on his heart.
He was eager to make a fresh start, far from Kheiron.
His uncle’s presence was invaluable; he taught Diven essential survival skills.
The tales of his adventures as he hunted and explored the region in his youth filled Diven’s imagination with dreams.
He would be fine. He would thrive, and he would prove them all wrong for rejecting him.
Right before the rapids that marked the end of their journey on the navigable Lien, Diven and Basil made camp and sat around their fire.
As they watched the sun set over the varied tree lines on the other shore of the river, they were grilling a fish Basil had caught on the way.
The boy was huddled close to the fire to stave off the night’s cold. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as he expected. The north was far less hospitable than the coast around Kheiron and even summer nights could be chilly.
Still, the warmth of the fire along with the sound of the wood crackling under the flames was always soothing. Furthermore, for some reason, Diven wasn't feeling as cold as he expected.
“It’s finally time,” Basil said. “I’ll be heading back tomorrow.”
“I know. Thank you for your help.”
“This is the bare minimum.”
“Still, it’s more than anyone else did for me,” Diven sighed.
A heavy silence settled between them.
They had this discussion many times over the last two months. They both knew there was no point in insisting.
Diven knew his uncle was sure his parents hadn’t abandoned him on purpose. His mother’s position in the clan was fragile, and the revelation of his bloodline had surely caused upheaval.
They may not have known their son was getting exiled.
Diven, on his end, didn’t believe a word of it. It just didn’t seem credible. While he was grateful for his uncle’s help during the journey, he was also aware the man hadn’t fought against his banishment.
Even if he wasn’t an elder, Basil was slated to become one soon. His words carried weight in the clan.
They went to sleep, and the next day, Diven and his uncle parted.
Their farewell wasn’t poignant or sentimental. After two months, they knew it would come and they were ready for it.
Basil hopped onto the boat and let the current carry him downstream, under the watchful gaze of his nephew, who remained ashore in the untamed wilderness.
Once he couldn’t see the boat anymore, Diven took stock of his progress.
Name: Diven
Bloodline: Rot Heart
Titles: Rotten Sun
Current Facet: Facet of the Hoplite
Skills:

Spear – Basic – Lv2
Shield – Basic – Lv2

Two months of training had progressed his skills and facets by a decent amount. He had gathered that his uncle’s Spear skill had long ago evolved into something more.
Pointers from such an expert were invaluable.
Furthermore, now that he was on his own, he could expect his training to bear even more fruit. Training and fighting for real were two very different things, and that was reflected in his skill advancements.
If there was one thing he regretted, it was that he had lost his Leios name along the way. Stricken from the records. His visualization of his inner world reflected that. Leios was gone—only Diven remained.
But the changes were not limited to that.
As he progressed his facet, the little branch on his rotten tree grew. Pointing toward the sky, the Hoplite branch added a bit of height to the tree. Small, glistening buds had appeared on it and looked ready to bloom.
If not for the rotten black vein snaking along the tree trunk and the sickly pale light of the sun inside his inner garden, it would make for a beautiful sight.
When it came to his skills, the level-up had caused both the bamboo grove and the brambles to grow in height and density. In terms of practical effect, it was harder to feel as he felt his progress with both the Spear and the Shield had been gradual.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
However, when he looked back at his old self, he could see the difference quite clearly.
Diven stretched his arms and back and lifted his heavy bag before setting off.
He planned to continue upstream and find a suitable place to settle for a while.
It wasn’t much, but he thought that he would figure things out as he went.
Stranded in a foreign land, what he needed the most was information about his surroundings.
The other part of his plan consisted in completing Facet of the Hoplite as fast as possible and, from there, he would see what options were available to him.
After a few minutes of walking, Diven quickly realized things would go differently than he imagined.
While sailing on the river allowed for fast progress, waddling through the woods was difficult and slow.
After what felt like half an hour of walking, he could still see the remnants of his night camp from the riverside. He wasn’t going to go anywhere like this.
He sat on a log to rest a little while he formulated a plan. Since following the river was proving to be too difficult, he would go inland, and look for a vantage point from where he could get the lay of the land.
After walking what felt like an eternity, he reached the top of some sort of hill, but the foliage kept him from seeing far out. Seeing the light was starting to fade, he set up camp for the night.
The standard explorer gear he had received from the clan before he was sent away included a hammock, a fire starter, some rope, a water flask, and a first aid kit.
It wasn’t much, but it was light enough that he could carry everything on his back.
Exhausted, he didn’t take long to fall asleep.
The next morning, Diven was thirsty and out of water.
He traced his way back to the river and, in the rapids, filled his flask.
Sitting next to what was left of the campfire his uncle lit two days ago, Diven was lost on what to do. His lack of experience showed, and he wished his uncle had stayed longer.
His food stocks were dwindling, and fishing was not his forte either. It looked so easy when his uncle did it, maybe he had a skill for it.
Still, it seemed to him that the river was the surest source of food he could find. If he couldn’t catch a fish, an animal would be even harder. He could hear the birds and other things rustling leaves and bushes around him, but he had yet to see them.
Just as Diven decided to stay there for a while, he heard a deep growl coming from the undergrowth. Just in time, he ducked to avoid a creature leaping on him. Rolling to the side, he stood up and grabbed his spear and shield to face the beast.
Standing before him, was a large canine with dirty brown fur and a frail figure.
Some kind of wolf?
It looked hungry. Not a good thing for Diven. But at least it should be weaker than a well-fed one.
Diven and the beast circled around each other, the teenager protecting himself with his shield, ready to stab his spear into his assailant.
He was anxious. This was a real animal. A predator. And it was after him. His weapons felt heavy in his hands. The pressure he felt was so different from when he was training.
Uncle Basil was clearly stronger than this wolf, but the beast was not here to play.
It didn’t take long for it to leap forward.
Diven put his shield in the way. But the weight behind the blow surprised him and he almost lost his footing.
Reflexively, he stabbed into the beast’s fur. But his strikes didn’t draw blood.
Still, the wolf retreated and they were back to square one.
His breath ragged, Diven looked at the wolf. He wasn’t far from panicking, only forcing himself to stay lucid because he knew he needed a clear head to come out on top.
That wolf’s gaunt, emaciated figure was unsettling.
Diven took a step forward, prompting the wolf to growl and move back.
Was it scared?
Another step. The wolf moved back further.
Yes, it was scared. Diven felt inspired by his opponent’s reaction.
It was scared of him.
Seeing that the river was right behind his target, he decided to continue.
Step by step, he forced the beast back until its hind legs sank into the water.
Cornered, the wolf growled and yapped at Diven.
“You’re the one who ambushed me. Don’t act like that now.”
The wolf charged at Diven. But this time, his momentum was disturbed by the water.
Diven was expecting it. He didn’t use his shield to block but instead, stepped aside, causing the wolf to miss.
As it flew by, Diven plunged his spear into the wolf’s belly, leaving a deep bleeding gash.
The wolf stumbled and fell to the floor as Diven watched, a smile on his lips.
He had done it!
But the beast wasn’t dead. Enraged, it stood back up and threw caution to the wind, it charged at him again.
Caught off guard, Diven was forced to block with his shield. He received several scratches from the wolf’s claws as he whittled it down with his spear.
It was messier than he’d liked, but after dozens of hits on its back, the wolf finally fell dead.
Looking at the corpse sprawled under his feet, it was clear only the one belly hit had really connected, resulting in the wolf bleeding out.
The rest had only served to enrage it.
It wasn’t pretty, but it worked out.
Skill leveled up: Spear lv2 -> lv3
Despite his dirty work, Diven was rewarded with a level.
Adrenaline came crashing down and he suddenly found himself exhausted. His whole body was in pain from the effort and the few scratches the beast had managed to inflict on him.
He wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea.
First, he needed to dispose of the corpse.
The wolf evidently hadn’t been healthy. Unsure of what he could do, he took the easy solution of hauling the carcass into the Lien. The current would carry the body away.
As he dragged the wolf for the few paces that separated it from the river, he groaned under the effort. Despite being underfed, the thing was still heavier than it looked.
Once it was done, Diven set up his camp, treated his wounds, and ate a little. His appetite wasn’t great after the messy fight, but he needed to eat.
Lying in his hammock, he had trouble falling asleep.
He had been naive. Of course, he knew the Wildlands were dangerous, filled with mythical beasts and countless traps.
Yet, a starving wolf wasn’t it. It wasn’t a legendary monster. It wasn’t an elaborate ruse of the barbarians.
No, it was just a lonely wolf that wanted food.
And it had been close to beating him.
Now, every noise coming from the forest startled him, preventing him from falling asleep.
What if it was another attack?
If he could barely fight a dying wolf, what if a healthy one showed up? Wolves lived in packs, had this one been banished, like himself?
He couldn’t deal with a pack of wolves.
It was his head filled with thoughts that Diven finally let the exhaustion take him to sleep.