Rising to my feet, I paused for a moment to catch my breath. It was time to follow Rabbit's initial plan, testing my skills with the bow. Peering into my bag, I carefully pulled it out, grateful it was still intact. The next challenge awaited me: stringing the bow. I attached one end of the string to the bow, then leaned in, using my weight to flex the bow enough to secure the other end.

  “That’s not so hard,” I said as I attached the other end of the string to the bow. I took a breath, admiring my handiwork with pride. Just then, the top string snapped loose, and the bow slapped me in the face.

  Rabbit burst out in uncontrollable laughter. What escaped him wasn’t just a chuckle. It was relentless, side-splitting laughter that refused to stop even after the moment had passed. For thirty seconds straight, he was lost in hysterics while I lay sprawled on the floor, grappling with a mix of pain and bewilderment.

  When I finally got to my feet, Rabbit was still convulsing with laughter, struggling to catch his breath, which made no sense since he didn’t even have lungs.

  “You had too…” He paused, gasping for air that he didn’t need. “You had too much wood smacking you in the face!” His amusement surged again, somehow even louder than before.

  I wanted to be angry because my face still hurt, but his amusement made me smile.

  “Clever,” I remarked simply. “Almost as clever as laughing at your own jokes because no one else will.”

  After Rabbit calmed down, he decided to help me. “You needed to push the knot further inside the notch.”

  This time, I repeated my actions, but I positioned the string closer to the bow and ensured it was secure before attempting to move it at all. When I was confident that it wasn’t going to slap me, I moved it close to my body.

  “You should shoot the snake. It has soft meat and won’t ruin the arrow,” Rabbit explained to me.

  I lined up my bow toward the middle of the snake, then pulled back. Unfortunately, it didn't go all the way. The arrow fell short and landed in the dirt near the dead snake. That wasn't exactly good news as we were trying to keep the arrows. I tried again harder, and this time, the string moved back. It seemed like there was a given point where it was no longer challenging to pull, but before that point, it was complicated. You had to use the correct amount of force.

  Again, I lined up the bow toward the snake’s middle section and released it.

  Surprise, surprise. I missed the snake’s center but hit its tail. I knew a snake was all tail, but it was nearer the end, rather than its face. And then, I got a prompt.

  Congratulations, you have learned Archery Level 1. “With a bow and an arrow, you could hit Russia from your back porch.”

  Bonuses:

  2% to damage

  2% to a rate of fire

  Well, that answered that question. Skills came from actions, not just killing. I was bummed about losing the freedom to choose my skills, but honestly, it wasn’t the worst outcome. Sure, I could have tried killing animals with my bare hands, but I doubted that would have gone well. I needed my weapons, and using them was a risk worth taking.

  “Did you change my prompt?” I asked Rabbit.

  “You will never know, but you need to breathe out when firing. Try again. If you can’t aim at this distance with a nonmoving target, you will need to give up on archery right now.”

  He was right, but I felt that he was misdirecting me. Why would he change my prompts? Well, maybe that was funny. Okay, it was pretty amusing, but he should have told me he was changing them. That was if he did do it. Ugh, why did he do this to me?

  I set up to take another shot at the snake, and this time, I tried to concentrate on my breathing and aimed when Rabbit highlighted something else. It was a smaller snake. Then, I adjusted my aim and properly breathed out and released. The arrow flew and hit.

  “Yes!” I exclaimed.

  “It’s not dead. I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

  He was right. However, the snake was moving away, and I didn’t have anything besides my bow to attack the snake.

  I started moving forward and tried to pull another arrow to my bow while closing the distance. It was not as easy as I thought. I needed to stop for a second to line up the nock with the string, but I missed again. I moved closer to the snake as it moved into the forest and among the trees.

  Breathing in and out, I released. The arrow flew and missed the snake entirely, hitting the tree instead.

  “Wow, you suck at this. Kill it with a rock,” Rabbit suggested.

  “I don't want to get poisoned,” I replied.

  “This one looks similar to the big snake, except the other one was at least four times bigger. It appears to be a baby in comparison. My point is that it is probably a constrictor rather than a biter. Hit it with a rock, and you might be able to kill it.”

  I dropped the bow since I was unable to kill it with that. I grabbed its tail before it got away, and as it turned to fight back, I seized a rock from the ground with my other hand and struck its face. While it was stunned, I hit it repeatedly until it stopped moving.

  You have earned 3 experience points from killing Level 2 Giant Snake (child).

  “That was underwhelming.” I was let down.

  “No kidding. That makes no sense. You got three experience points from killing this snake, but over 2,000 from killing the other one. That is a huge jump,” Rabbit concurred.

  “Do you know why that is?”

  “With a sample size of two deaths, I have no clue. However, let’s examine the facts. This snake was a child. It was smaller, a lower level, and a lot easier to kill. Oh, and you also killed it with some weapons instead of by hand. There could be any of those factors that could adjust the experience. It could also have to do with your level, but I have no clue. You are now at a higher level than the enemy, while the last one was a lot higher than you. Honestly, I’ll have to get back to you when you get a larger sample size. For now, let’s see what happens when you activate your Soul Absorption when the animal is dead.”

  I placed my hand on the snake, as Rabbit suggested, and activated my Soul Absorption.

  “Your prompt changed,” Rabbit said, and I looked again at my previous prompt, and it stated:

  You have earned 6 experience points from killing Level 2 Giant Snake (child).

  While it wasn't that much, it was good to know that Soul Absorption granted me double experience from kills.

  "I guess you were right. Using a weapon did cause me to get the skill," I said, half disappointed and half relieved. I knew earning more free points would help with my long-term goals, but in the short term, I needed to survive. Combat skills seemed like the quickest route to power, and right then, I welcomed it.

  “Speaking of which you should activate your Time Spell,” Rabbit stated.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Yeah, but it will take away all of my mana regeneration for only a 1% decrease in time,” I said.

  “Look, don’t look at it as decreasing time but increasing speed. You receive a 1% increase in speed in an unconventional way. I do not recommend using it in battle if you can use other spells, but until you get others, I don’t see the harm in using it. I mean, your mana isn’t being used for anything else.”

  I didn’t argue. Maybe using the spell was how to increase affinity. I had no real way of knowing, but it felt like trying something was better than doing nothing. The only drawback was the mana regeneration, and since my only other spell was Teleport, it wasn't like I was going to use that mid-fight anyway. I could always turn Fast Time on and disable it later when I needed to recover mana.

  This time, I thought about the spell Fast Time, and I got a prompt.

  What range would you like to cast Fast Time?

  I ignored the prompt and tried again. This time, I thought about myself and the spell, and nothing happened.

  “I don’t know if it worked,” I said.

  “I found it. You have an area for active effects of 1% normal time flow,” Rabbit said.

  “I don’t see anything different,” I replied.

  “I guess you wouldn’t. I can see the difference. That’s why I looked through your status pages. The change is small, I will give you that, but every little bit helps.” Rabbit paused. “That is strange.”

  “What?” I questioned.

  “Your mana is increasing while the spell is active. It’s small. Only 1% of your normal regeneration. It is just strange.”

  “Well, the prompt said it could decrease the mana cost by 1% for every even level.”

  “You haven’t made it to an even level. I do have a theory though, which is good news for you. You know how you are out of sync with time by 1%?” Rabbit questioned. “It is taking mana from you at 100% of relative time. Meaning, since you are moving at 101% of normal time, you are gaining a small amount.”

  “One percent is a basic standstill. I don’t think that could even be considered refilling,” I replied snarkily.

  “True, you are missing the real benefit in the situation. If that holds, then other spells should have the same benefit. Additionally, if there is a cooldown, it should be reduced by that 1% as well,” Rabbit declared with pride. “I am hoping others might know how to surpass level 1 in the skill. If there is a way, this spell could work well.”

  What he said would be a real benefit if I could level the skill, we just had to figure out how.

  After this long day, I urged Rabbit, “Okay, I am dead tired and hungry. We can't keep going on like this. Do you know how to cook these snakes?”

  “Nope, but you know what they say. Build a man a fire, and he will be warm for one day. Set a man on fire, and he will be warm the rest of his life.”

  I laughed dryly. Sometimes dark humor tickled me in the right way. “Do you know how to cook this? I am getting hungry.”

  “I don’t have any clue how to cook the snake. I saw in some movies that they pull off the skin in one large chunk, then cook it, but it could have been fiction,” Rabbit said. “Lucky for you, you have some good regeneration power. I suggest you pick some berries from that plant over there.” As indicated, he highlighted a plant off to the side.

  This time with actual curiosity, I inquired, “You can’t tell if it’s fiction or not?”

  “Do you know how much fiction is in your entertainment system? Let me ask you a question. Do you think quicksand will kill you? Or that you get one phone call when you get arrested? Or that Gilligan is stuck on an island?”

  Except for that last one, I had no clue about the other two. If you got arrested, would you not get a phone call? Did you get multiple phone calls? Ah, it was killing me. I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to give away that I didn’t know. So, I tried to act as normally as I could.

  “Yeah. Totally. I was thinking…” I said slowly.

  “Let me cut you off right now. First off, no one says ‘yeah’ and ‘totally’ as slowly as you did and knows the answers. Second, I can tell what you are doing. You want to know the answer to one of the questions,” Rabbit exclaimed, knowing the answer beforehand.

  He paused, waiting for my reaction.

  “Yep, I’m right. Now, which question? As the first question is obvious that you don’t drown in quicksand, then it has to be one of the other two.” He paused again and then said, “Yep. Okay, I’ll explain it.”

  “Finally.” I was relieved to get some answers. Even though Rabbit was going to make fun of me for it, I still wanted to know.

  “Okay, okay,” he said so nonchalantly. “Gilligan isn’t actually stuck on the island. Those radio coconuts are just made up. I found that I wouldn’t have even watched the show if it weren’t for the professor. Did you know that the professor and Mary Ann were originally extras? In the opening credits, they originally didn’t have them listed out, but by the second season, they were added.”

  I knew Rabbit was playing with me now, but I wasn’t giving up if I lost this much face.

  “Come on,” I insisted.

  “Fine. You are entitled to reasonable access to your attorney, but that does not mean you have unrestricted access to a phone call. A lot of places will give you at least one, but they don’t have to. It’s not necessarily free speech if you know what I mean,” added my all-knowing AI companion.

  Although the answer was unsatisfying, it was fulfilling to finally have a clue, and I felt like I could finally move on with my life. However, his mention of Gilligan's Island threw me off. I needed to ignore that distraction, or I would be confused all day long.

  “Your laws are also all over the place. There are so many double standards. You work hard and burn bodies for a living at work, and you are doing your job. You burn bodies at home, and they say it’s burning evidence. Who can figure out you cockroaches?”

  I ignored my thoughts, looked around, and saw what we were initially talking about. Rabbit had highlighted some plants. As I walked closer, I could indeed see berries. I picked one and received the prompt.

  Congratulations, you have learned Herblore Level 1. “It seems you are quite skilled at putting things in your mouth.”

  Bonuses:

  You will now see one magical trait of most common magical herbs and plants.

  “Rabbit!” I growled. “Stop messing with my prompts!”

  “Who said I did anything? Remember, it's a magical world. Who knows where they are coming from?” As I started chewing the sour berry, Rabbit continued, “And how do people like food? This is disgusting.”

  I then realized this was the first food that Rabbit had ever tasted. He was right that it wasn't good. It would put lime to shame in sourness.

  “Don’t worry. Most food is actually good, but this is just too sour to eat. I don’t think this is safe.”

  Another prompt popped up as I was saying that.

  You have been poisoned.

  When I read that, I dropped the rest of the berries I was holding.

  “Poisoned? What the heck,” I muttered, drawing out each word. “Rabbit, you're poisoning me.”

  “Relax. Like I said, you have health regeneration. I didn't know you would get the Herblore skill, but it will be quite useful with me along. Since I can remember everything, you can try everything you see, and I can catalog all the information for our future use. Plus, you have to eat at some point, so it's a win, win, win.”

  “What's the third win for?” I asked.

  “I get to watch you poison yourself. The simple things in life make everything worthwhile. I just wish I didn’t have to taste it along with you.”

  At that point, when I had the Herblore skill, the magical plants were highlighted very lightly. This was not by Rabbit but because of my new magical skill. After focusing on a plant, I could see one of its magical properties. Only a couple had beneficial effects, such as increased speed, healing, etc. Most of the others had a detrimental impact.

  Since I was with Rabbit, he wanted to know all of the effects and wanted me to try just about everything. Oddly enough, he enjoyed the new horrible tastes that came with them. It seemed that even though he thought they were awful, they were something new.

  As I tested plants, he would catalog any other reactions. When I looked at a plant, it reminded me of what I once had to focus on. It had the primary effect, as well as all the extra ones that Rabbit compiled through my prompts. It was way more helpful.

  There was a bonus for trying all the different plants consecutively. I was able to find various types of antidotes. Since I was continually poisoning and damaging myself, certain herbs cured the poisons and counteracted the effects. I would have never known, since most of the impact would have been inert if I had grabbed the herb and nothing else. However, with the combinations, Rabbit was able to find all types of countering magical toxins, from curing slow to removing fire resistance.

  I didn't know why anyone would want to remove fire resistance, but as Rabbit explained, this was not a game, and things were just what they were. It took hours to do this, and I was eventually stuffed and sick from the poison. It was like eating Indian food all day and having the stomach to match.

  A positive outcome emerged from all of this. After trying all the plants, I had already reached level 2 in the skill and was well on my way to level 3. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to come with any additional bonuses for the new ranks. Rabbit thought that it might happen at a higher level, where we would get to see more traits.

  I guess, in the end, it was a good thing we chose two types of magic I had low affinity with. It meant spells weren’t guaranteed at every level. If I had picked Fire Magic, I might have used both points on it and still ended up with only one spell.

  I trudged down the mountain a little more, trying to get to my sword, but after everything I ate, I wasn't into it. The day wore on, and I grew increasingly tired.

  “Let's go find a spot to rest.”

  It was getting pretty dark, so we found a suitable tree to climb. It was big enough for me, and this one wasn’t crawling with insects like some of the others. The hard part was trying to tie the rope around myself so we didn’t fall out of the tree. Sadly, Rabbit didn’t know anything about knots, and I only knew the basics for tying my shoes’ bunny ears. In the end, this would ultimately save my life.

  Getting settled into the tree was an odd experience, yet it offered a relative sense of safety compared to the ground below, away from potential predators. Under ordinary conditions, the thought of sleeping on a branch would be dismissed outright due to the fear of falling. However, sheer exhaustion overcame such concerns. The day's physical exertions and emotional strain had taken their toll, causing me to quickly fall asleep despite the inherent risks of my lofty position.

  Suddenly, the stillness of the night was shattered by eerie sounds emerging from the shadows, snapping me out of a shallow sleep.