"This is my gift," I said, echoing her earlier words as I secured the clasp. The bracelet fit perfectly, as if it had been made specifically for her delicate wrist.
Lisa stared down at the jewelry, her free hand coming up to trace the patterns with one finger. When she looked back up at me, there was something new in her expression—surprise, certainly, but also a deeper emotion that I couldn't quite tell.
Without breaking eye contact, I lifted her soft hand slowly to my lips, pressing the gentlest of kisses against her knuckles. The gesture felt both natural and momentous.
"One of many to come," I murmured against her skin, my breath creating the smallest shiver across her fingers.
Lisa's lips parted in what might have been surprise or something deeper, her blue eyes searching mine questionningly. For a moment, the busy marketplace around us seemed to fade into nothing more than distant noise. But then, as if suddenly remembering where we were, she slowly averted her gaze, a delicate flush creeping up her neck.
"Harold?"
The sharp call of my name cut through our private moment. Lisa immediately pulled her hand from mine, taking a small step back as we both turned toward the familiar voice.
My sister Rosaluna stood several paces away, her face was set in an expression of barely contained irritation, her pink eyes flashing with something that went far beyond simple annoyance. Beside her, Rumia who looked equally upset, though her distress seemed to stem more from concern than anger.
But it was Rosaluna who took attention, her gaze fixed on Lisa with the kind of intensity usually reserved for enemies on a battlefield.
"Again sticking around my brother, Lisa? Don't you have anything else to do with your time?" She said.
This wasn't the first time I'd witnessed this particular friction between the two young women, and I suspected it wouldn't be the last. Rosaluna had always harbored a complicated relationship with Lisa—one that seemed to grow more strained as the years passed.
It wasn't that Lisa had done anything wrong. If anything, she'd been nothing but kind to my family whenever our paths crossed. But Lisa was older, fourteen to Rosaluna's twelve, and had grown up being told she was special, unique among our village's youth. Despite Rosaluna possessed powerful Fire Magic, she was still feeling slightly inferior to Lisa.
What made it particularly complicated was Rosaluna's feelings went deeper than simple jealousy. She genuinely cared about me, perhaps too much, and she saw Lisa as a threat to the protective bubble she'd tried to maintain around our family.
"I was just asking for her advice about hunting, big sister," I said quickly, stepping slightly forward in what I hoped was a gesture of peace. "You know, since I'm planning to take part in Tom's hunting expedition."
Rosaluna's expression shifted, but not in the way I'd hoped. If anything, she looked even more troubled by this revelation.
Lisa, seeming to sense an opportunity to defuse the tension, offered a genuine smile. "You could join us this afternoon, if you'd like. Tom always welcomes skilled hunters on his expeditions."
"Oh?" I turned to Lisa with perhaps more enthusiasm than the situation warranted. "I mean, yes, I'd like that very much."
Why wait for some distant date when I could begin learning immediately? The prospect of joining an actual hunting party, of proving myself alongside experienced hunters like Tom and his sons.
"W—Wait, Harold!" Rosaluna stepped forward, her earlier anger replaced by something that looked dangerously close to panic. Her hands reached out as if she wanted to physically restrain me. "Hunting is dangerous! You're still too young for something like that."
"I agree completely," Rumia added, her voice soft but filled with the same concern that creased her delicate features.
"Lisa went hunting when she was six years old," I pointed out. "Tom's sons were around the same age when they started. I'm old enough, and they'll be there to guide me and keep me safe."
Lisa nodded in agreement, her stance subtly shifting to one of support. "You can't pamper him for his entire life, Rosaluna. Otherwise, he'll never have the chance to grow into the man he's meant to become."
I watched as Rosaluna's face flushed with something far more complex than simple anger. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and when she spoke. "He is MY brother. Of course I worry about him and want to keep him safe. Maybe you don't care about him the way I do, but I love him more than anything in this world."
Lisa didn't seem perturber as she crossed her arms over her chest. "What makes you think I don't care about Harold?"
Rosaluna's gaze dropped to Lisa's wrist, where the silver bracelet I'd just purchased lay. Her expression grew even more sour as she took in the expensive piece of jewelry.
My sister… I'd given Rosaluna plenty of gifts over the years—books, jewelry, fine fabrics for her dresses. She couldn't possibly be jealous over one bracelet, could she? But as I watched the way her eyes lingered on the silver band, I began to suspect that this ran deeper than simple sibling protectiveness.
Now we were gathering attention.
Lisa seemed to sense the growing attention as well. With visible effort, she uncrossed her arms and took a small step back.
"I'll be waiting this afternoon, Harold," she said. "I'll speak with Tom and make sure everything is arranged properly."
I nodded quickly to confirm my commitment before Rosaluna could raise any further objections. "I'll be there. Thank you, Lisa."
She gave me one more lingering look—one that seemed to carry a dozen unspoken words—before turning and walking away through the crowd.
When I turned back, I found Rosaluna and Rumia both watching me with expressions I couldn't quite read. Rosaluna's anger had faded into something more complicated, while Rumia simply looked thoughtful.
I sighed and my hands found Rosaluna's, her fingers warm and slightly trembling—whether from anger or concern, I couldn't tell.
"Big sister," I said softly, waiting until her gaze met mine fully. "Look at me. Really look."
Rosaluna's lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to interrupt, but I pressed on.
"I know you worry about me. I see it in the way you watch me when you think I'm not looking, in how you tense whenever someone mentions the dangers beyond our walls." I squeezed her hands gently. "But I need you to understand something—I'm not the fragile little brother you remember. I am stronger than you think, stronger than I appear. You might not have noticed because your lessons with Isadora keep you away so often, but I've been training, preparing. I can handle myself now."
I leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips—brief, innocent, but filled with all the affection and reassurance I could muster. It was the same gesture I'd used countless times as a child to make her smile when she was upset.
Rosaluna blinked in surprise, her stern expression melting away entirely as a soft, almost bashful smile curved her lips.
There it is, I thought with satisfaction. That's how you make Rosaluna forget her sourness. I really was her weakness.
"You bought her a gift and not us, Hal." Rumia spoke up right after, arms folded across her chest in an exaggerated pout that might have looked childish if not for the genuine envy flickering in her sky blue eyes. "That's hardly fair, is it?"
"Alright, alright," I said with a theatrical sigh that made her eyes narrow suspiciously. "But this stays between us. More important don't tell your father it comes from me.
Rather than reach for my coin purse, I moved to my house along them, and looked inside a small chest and withdrew two carefully wrapped bundles I'd been hiding there for weeks. The hours I'd spent working on these by candlelight suddenly felt worthwhile.
"For you, Rumia." I handed her the smaller package first, watching as she unwrapped it with the careful precision she applied to everything.
Her breath caught as she revealed the scrunchie within—a rich blue fabric adorned with intricate golden threading. The design was distinctly different from anything in this world, inspired by styles I remembered from Earth but adapted with local materials and techniques.
"It's... beautiful," she whispered, immediately pulling the simple ribbon from her hair and tossing it aside. Her fingers were surprisingly gentle as she gathered her curly blond locks and secured them with my gift. "How did you... the pattern is unlike anything I've ever seen."
"I had some inspiration," I said cryptically, then turned to Rosaluna. "And for you, big sister."
Rosaluna's gift was simpler in appearance—a soft pink scrunchie with an elastic band cleverly woven through the fabric. I'd spent considerable time perfecting the mechanism, knowing that as a fire magic user, she constantly had to tie her hair back to keep it from catching flame during practice.
"This one's designed to be more practical," I explained as she examined it. "The elastic will hold better during training, and it won't slip like your usual ribbons do."
The smile that spread across Rosaluna's face was radiant. Without hesitation, she pulled her hair into a high ponytail, the pink scrunchie contrasting beautifully with her white tresses.
In my previous life, I'd been careless with women and too arrogant. Not this time. In this new life, I'd chosen to be more careful, more intentional with every relationship, especially with women. My carelessness in the past had cost me everything, including my life. I wouldn't make the same mistakes again.
"Now then," I said, clapping my hands together to break the moment before it became too heavy, "are we in agreement? No more attempts to lock me away for my own protection?"
Rosaluna's hand drifted up to touch her new hair tie, and I saw the exact moment she capitulated. "Fine," she said with a dramatic sigh that didn't quite hide her smile. "But if you come back with so much as a scratch, I'm never letting you out of my sight again."
Don't exaggerate sister.
"Deal."
The afternoon sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon when I finally emerged from the house, properly equipped for my first real hunt. The leather bracers Tom had lent me felt strange around my forearms—they'd belonged to his sons when they were younger, he'd explained, back when Mark and Willem were still learning to draw a bow without the string catching their sleeves.
The breastplate, while obviously sized for someone smaller than my current frame, still provided decent protection across my vital organs.
"Better to have it and not need it," Tom had said gruffly, "than need it and not have it."
My new bow felt natural slung across my shoulders, its weight perfectly balanced and the grip smooth from careful sanding. The quiver Lisa had provided hung comfortably at my back, filled with arrows she'd fletched herself—each one straight and true, with points sharp enough to punch through leather.
"Don't be this nervous, Hal!" Tom's booming voice preceded a hearty slap to my back that nearly sent me stumbling forward in grassy ground of the Greenwood. His weathered face was split by a wide grin.
"I'm not nervous when you guys are here to protect me," I said, glancing over my shoulder at the assembled group.
Tom's sons stood nearby—Mark with his father's broad shoulders and steady demeanor, Willem younger and more eager, practically vibrating with excitement at the prospect of a hunt. But they weren't alone. Five other villagers had volunteered to join our expedition: two grizzled veterans whose combined hunting experience probably spanned more decades than I'd been alive, and three younger men in their twenties whose names I was still trying to remember.
Tom's laughter boomed across the clearing. "We will protect you, lad, don't doubt that. But first—" He held up a weathered hand, his expression growing more serious. "Let me give you the fundamental principles of hunting, and some hard-earned advice that might just keep you alive out there."
The other men gathered closer, forming a loose semicircle. Even though they'd heard Tom's hunting philosophy countless times before, they listened with respectful attention. There was something almost ritual about the moment—the passing of knowledge from experienced hunter to novice, a tradition as old as humanity itself.
"First principle," Tom began, his voice taking on the cadence of a man who'd given this speech many times before, "respect your prey. Every creature we hunt has survived in these woods longer than most men live. They're clever, they're fast, and they know this terrain better than we ever will. Underestimate them, and you'll go home empty-handed—if you go home at all."
I nodded.
"Second principle—patience. A good hunter knows when to wait, when to move, and when to let opportunity pass by for a better one later. Rush your shot, and you'll wound an animal instead of killing it clean. That's cruel to the beast and dangerous for you."
"Third principle," Tom continued, his calloused finger pointing toward the treeline, "know your environment. These woods have moods, just like people. Wind direction, animal tracks, the way birds behave—everything tells a story if you know how to read it." He gestured to one of the old man, Loic, who stepped forward with a knowing nod.
"The lad's right about reading signs," Loic said. "See how the sparrows are still active this late in the day? That means no large predators have passed through recently. But watch the squirrels—" He pointed to a nearby oak where several bushy-tailed creatures chattered anxiously. "They're agitated about something upwind from here."
Willem, unable to contain his enthusiasm, chimed in. "Could be deer! They passed through here this morning—I saw the tracks by the stream."
"Maybe," Tom said with a patient smile. "Or it could be something we don't want to meet unprepared. That's why we always assume the worst and hope for the best."
Matthias, the other elderly hunter, spat into the dust and adjusted his well-worn leather hat. "In my forty years of hunting these woods, I've learned that overconfidence kills more hunters than wild boars do. You stay alert, boy, and you listen to every sound the forest makes."
"Now, about your weapon," Tom said, gesturing to the bow across my shoulders. "That's a fine piece you chose for you. You have good eyes."
"Actually Lisa chose for me," I rectified.
Tom glanced at Lisa and chuckled. "I should have known. Now show us your draw."
I unslung the bow.
Taking my stance thanks to my Archer Skill I'd assimilated thanks of years of watching of Lisa, I nocked an arrow and drew the string back slowly.
"Good form," Mark observed approvingly. "Your anchor point is consistent, and you're not gripping the bow too tightly."
"Aye, but watch your breathing," added Loic. "You're holding your breath. In a real hunt, you might need to hold that draw for minutes waiting for the right shot."
"Right then," Tom said, shouldering his own impressive longbow. "Time to see how much you've actually learned. We'll start with tracking—there's a game trail about half a mile north that should give us plenty to work with."
"Wait, Mr. Tom," One of the younger men, stepped forward, his face twisted in obvious irritation. "Aren't we wasting our time trying to make a kid learn that? He clearly never hunted before. Let's just ask him to watch in the back."
His two companions nodded in agreement, their expressions ranging from mild annoyance to outright dismissal.
Willem, who despite being the youngest among the experienced hunters had already proven himself more mature than men twice his age, stepped forward with a frown creasing his brow. "Don't say that. We all have passed through this rookie state. If our elders hadn't been patient with us, we wouldn't have become this good."
Tom's weathered face broke into a warm chuckle. "Well said, son," he agreed, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked pointedly at the three complainers who fell silent.
We continued deeper into the forest and eventually.
"There," Matthias whispered suddenly.
We all turned as one, following his gaze through a gap in the trees.
Two deer stood at the edge of a small, mirror-like pond, their graceful necks bent as they drank.
Tom's hand moved in a subtle gesture, and we all understood immediately. Without a word, we crouched behind a thick cluster of bushes, the leaves providing perfect cover.
The old hunter's eyes met mine, then Lisa's, and he pointed toward the deer with deliberate slowness. His message was clear: these two were ours to take.
Lisa and I exchanged a quick nod and began moving forward. We positioned ourselves carefully, using the natural cover of trees and bushes to remain hidden while getting within optimal range.
I drew my bow, feeling the tension in the string as I nocked an arrow.
"Take your time, Hal," Lisa whispered beside me, and I caught her studying my stance with an approving eye. It wasn't like I was nervous but I didn't want to miss it. My ego was speaking there.
I glanced at Lisa and felt my breath catch for an entirely different reason. With her bow drawn and her face set in concentration, she looked absolutely stunning.
"Keep your gaze and stance firm and focused, and take a deep breath," she instructed softly, her voice carrying the confidence of someone who had done this many times before. I could see she was ready to release her arrow, but she was waiting for me—giving me the time I needed to prepare properly.
Something shifted inside me then. The childish mask I'd been wearing since arriving in this world fell away, replaced by the focused mask that had defined James Trevills in my previous life. I was a fast learner, always had been, and I had never accepted failure when success was within reach. This shot would be no different.
My breathing steadied, my stance became rock-solid, and my aim sharpened with laser-like precision. The world around me seemed to narrow until there was nothing but me, my bow, and my target. The buck had lowered his head to drink again, presenting a clear shot.
"Three, two..." Lisa began the countdown.
When she reached the end, we released simultaneously.
The two arrows whistled through the air with deadly precision. Lisa's shot was perfect—a clean strike to the heart that would ensure the buck's quick, painless death. My arrow found its mark in the deer's side, not quite as precise as Lisa's but still a solid, effective shot that would bring the animal down swiftly.