The world tree stirs itself every few centuries. No clear pattern as to what triggers this awakening has yet been established, or at least shared widely for scholarly discussion, but there is an established pattern in its outcome. The great tree stirs, and its leaves darken the sky. They then spread throughout the world, crossing oceans and mountains, plains and grasslands. Nobody has been able to track their journey, but reports of their consequence have been delivered from all known corners of the continent.

The leaves find people and bestow power. It is unknown how they choose those to whom they bestow this blessing, or even if they choose at all. The blessed are as varied as the cultures from which they emerge - men and women, slaves and kings, children and the aged. They follow no particular creed or value system, and there is no agreement between scholars, past or present, over the mechanism of the leaves.

Do they seek people who would be great already, and amplify their power, giving them further opportunity to rise? Or is it only the potential imparted by the World Tree's blessing that propels otherwise unremarkable people to such lofty heights? On only one thing can all agree though; Those who are blessed by the world tree are the heralds of change, and that is why they are loved and feared in equal measure.

- Excerpt from 'in the shadow of greatness, an investigation on the 3rd cleansing – unknown author'

I heard no howls as I jogged easily through the alpine forest. The stream burbled happily to my left – not the river I'd crossed many hours ago, but a smaller subsidiary that had diverted from its mother many miles back and now wormed its way quietly along the mountainside without complaint.

The wolves may have been hunting silently, or biding their time until I slept, or perhaps they'd descend from the sky at any moment on wings of fire and shoot me full of holes with cannons strapped to their weird legs.

Some of those options may have been more likely than others, but all were equally pointless conjecture at this point. I couldn't stay in a state of constant readiness and anxiety forever, and it turned out my limit was much closer to a few hours than it was to eternity.

The beautiful scenery had gone a long way to calming my frayed nerves, too. It was hard to hold onto panic in the hills, and the smell of wild garlic and blackberries in blossom was a balm to my aching soul.

Hunger soon reared its ugly head, though. I had snacked on blackberries and even found a few mountain strawberries – tiny things no larger than the nail of my thumb but packing as much flavour as a berry ten times their size – but fruit was not enough to satiate me after the events of the day. I'd dug around for tubers near the riverbank at one point, but I'd not had any luck. Mushrooms were present in abundance, but I wasn't willing to risk it.

So I slept hungry. I woke before dawn, my belly protesting loudly and dragging me from my dreams. I lost the details as soon as I woke, but I was left with a vague feeling of homesickness and melancholy, which made me think I'd been reliving memories while asleep.

I'd caught myself doing it a little yesterday while running; dipping into that hazy pool of memory and taking a drink. The flavour of my past, the context and detail filling my mind once again and reminding me of who I was, what my life had been before all this. But the moment I returned my focus to the world around me, I lost it all once again. The memories would slip away, like water through my hands, and once more the pool would be still and full, covered in a haze of mist.

In many ways the hunger was helpful. I might have stayed in that tree all morning, reliving different moments of my life and clinging to the comfort of the familiar, but the clawing hand of hunger I felt within spurred me out into the new world.

It took a week for my mind to change. I didn't eat like a king, but I did eat most days.

Hill Foraging and Meat Preparation were two new skills I picked up in that first week, and those two did more to keep me going than any movement Skill or enhanced attributes could. I lived as a scavenger for the first few days following my battle with the wolf, plodding ever onwards and scouring the surroundings for any sign of violence.

The world – for I was becoming more and more convinced that that's what it was – was a strange reflection of what I had expected. The creatures were often larger than anticipated, and far more aggressive. They seemed to obey no laws of phylogeny I knew of and acted as if food chains were faint suggestions rather than governing rules.

They were more varied than I'd ever imagined; giant salamanders with the branching antlers of deer, frogs with luminescent wings, sparrows as large as eagles and with strange webbed feet that could skim across the water like kingfishers despite their size.

At one point I saw a swift, its kite-shaped tail spread wide as it darted and flickered across the surface of a tiny stream, snatched from the air by an insect, of all things. It was a strange reversal of everything I knew of the world, which was not much considering my strange amnesia, but still it shocked me. Prey and predator was a distinction without a difference from what I could tell, too. Squirrels could attack and subdue foxes, foxes could prowl after boar, boar could charge at presumably anything they wanted.

Luckily, there did seem to be some sort of logic to it. I didn't have to fear assault by small birds or rodents. There was a respect for strength, and size was a good indicator of that. No diminutive stoat would try to kill me as I ran, though I took care to rest high in the trees at night to shield me from any wondering predators on the forest floor.

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The strangely violent predilections of the creatures in this endless valley did have one major upside though; there were signs of struggle everywhere. It wasn't hard for me to find corpses freshly abandoned by their killers once the choicest cuts were consumed, and so I managed to slip into a niche as a carrion feeder fairly easily.

I learned much from the bodies, as well. At one point I came across a hunting cat that would have stood shoulder to shoulder with me. It was eviscerated, torso cleaved in twain by a single swipe of some gargantuan paw. It was a sober reminder of the scale of things, and how low on the strangely malleable food web I was.

I found my skills increasing slowly and discovered that intention was key to the process. Simply going through the motions wasn't enough – I needed to actively focus on the task, focus on progress and learning everything I could. Even then, it wasn't easy. I gained the Running Skill one morning as I focused on my gait, and that opened up a new avenue of ease while moving.

Instincts that were not my own had suddenly crowded my mind as I moved; I was landing my feet just a half inch in front of my centre of mass, I needed to shift my hips forwards a hair more, I should increase my tempo just slightly. The suggestions weren't necessarily formed as true thoughts, just vague feelings that could help me optimise my movement. It was bizarre – it felt as if I already knew, deep in my bones, how to do the thing properly, but my body just needed some time to learn.

It did help though. No instant boon like the increase of an attribute, but the little differences stacked up over time, and I felt a grin spread across my face as I slipped through the idyllic valley under the power of my own body with ease. That had been a much needed win, and I'd let the joy of movement banish some of the more intrusive thoughts about the hopelessness of my situation for a time.

It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows though. The carcass stealing I'd engaged in had led to a few altercations with my new neighbours, and those fights had brought gains and losses both. By the end of the first week, the wounds on my back had healed well – they had yet to form scars, but had scabbed over well and no longer itched with movement – and only a handful more lacerations and cuts marred my body.

My status has changed significantly though. Firstly, I'd gained three new skills.

Hill Foraging – Active. You have eaten the fruits of nature and the roots within the earth, relying on a discerning eye and your own guesses to judge what is harmful. Use this skill to guide your senses, smelling and tasting danger before you risk your life. Further levels improve the fidelity of your sense and can expand this skill to encompass new environments if used heavily outside the hills you have grown familiar with.

Meat Preparation – Passive. You have experience dressing a carcass and preparing meat for the cookfire. Further levels will guide your hands in selecting the choicest cuts from a corpse, and ensuring the meat is cooked as best it can be with the crude methods available to you.

Running – Passive. You are a capable runner, able to move at a steady pace for hours at a time in the best circumstances. Further levels in this skill will encourage efficient movement of your body while running and allow you to move faster over longer durations without tiring.

I'd also gained a level, increased an attribute again, and levelled all of my skills.

Status:

Ancestry: Human (unevolved)

Level: 6

Class: None

Titles: God-touched

Attribute allocation:

Strength: 8

Agility: 6

Endurance: 12

Perception: 9

Cognition: 8

Available attributes: 0

Current skills:

Sure-footed: Level 2. Passive

Hill Foraging: Level 2. Active

Meat Preparation: Level 2. Passive

Running: Level 2. Passive

Open skill slot

Open skill slot

Open skill slot

Open skill slot

I'd decided to increase agility with my new attribute point and intended to work through each attribute until I knew what they all did, though I suspected that strength and agility would be the most important for my continued survival.

Endurance was useful; who didn't want to heal after taking wounds? But I reasoned that it would be better to avoid the wounds in the first place if possible. Prevention over cure, so to speak.

Just like before, the rush was indescribable, like the first sip of cold water after a hard run, the sweetness of a juicy fruit after a long sleep, the warmth of a tight hug after significant time alone.

In some ways, this rush was even more dramatic than the others, and I suspected it was due to the originally lower figure. It was not so much the absolute change in attributes, but the change relative to their values that determined the intensity of the rush. Either way, I could see myself getting addicted to that feeling.

It was not the only factor in my decision to start hunting in earnest, though I couldn't deny that it did play a role. I had been in this new world for perhaps a week – I wasn't counting the days any longer – and I had felt the onset of spring in the mountains around me. Just as the beasts were stirring in their nests, shaking themselves free of the torpor of winter and planning to explore the bright world once more, so too was my ambition rearing its head within me.

I wasn't satisfied with eking out a living on the carcasses of braver creatures while scurrying through the shaded valley, hoping that I'd reach the end with my life intact. Hope was a thin string to hang one's life on, and I was sick of hunger. I was sick of being tired all the time. Leaden legs and drooping eyes were not a pleasant way to live, and when one morning I found myself looking over my shoulder in search of wolf eyes in the gloom, I decided in earnest to change things.

I would hunt the creatures I feared, and I would overcome them with my wits and my strength. I'd use their lives to power my rise, until I didn't need to fear the predations of wolves or bears or snakes. I'd carve my way through this valley, glorying in the joy of movement, and gritting my teeth against the pain that freedom demanded, until I made it to the plains below a changed man.

It took only a week for my mindset to change, and once it had, I began to plan my first hunt.

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