To stay or to head to Oakfield? Truth be told, Riven wanted to see the town—but the old man's offer to teach him survival skills was tempting. Skills he knew he'd need if he had any hope of discovering who he truly was.
He closed his eyes, thinking it over. He didn't know the dangers of this world, let alone how to navigate them. Gaining knowledge before rushing into the unknown… it just made sense.
"I'll stay. But first… can I ask what world I'm in?" Riven tilted his head, curiosity shining in his eyes.
The old man chuckled. "So you don't even remember the world or the nation—we're in, huh? Well, for starters, you're in Teyvat. It's a land ruled by seven nations, each under a different Archon. The one we're in right now is Mondstadt—the Nation of Freedom."
Riven's brow furrowed. "Seven nations? And a nation of freedom?"
The old man had also mentioned an Archon. The word struck a chord—something about it felt familiar, but frustratingly out of reach. Riven let out a sigh, rubbing his temple.
"This memory stuff is going to be a pain…" he muttered. "It's like trying to grab something that's right in front of you, but your fingers just won't close around it. It's there, but I just… can't remember. It's driving me crazy."
"Kid, listen closely," the old man said, his tone firm but patient. "Don't force your memories. It's better to let them come back naturally. Now, as for the things I mentioned, I've got a book somewhere in the cabin that explains it all. Wait… can you read?"
"Yes, I can read," Riven replied with a nod.
"Good. That'll make teaching you a whole lot easier. Spark!" he called.
"Bark!" the dog responded sharply.
"Get me that darn book by my bed."
With a sharp bark, Spark rose onto his hind legs, nudged the cabin door open with his paws, and trotted inside. Moments later, he returned with a worn, leather-bound book held carefully in his jaws. The dog padded over and dropped it at Riven's feet, tail wagging proudly.
"Now, kid, read that," Logan said, easing back down into his chair. "Once you're done, head out back and wash up in the lake. I'll leave some clothes for you—used to belong to my son, but… he won't be needing them anymore."
Logan's voice trailed off as he glanced up toward the sky, his expression distant—caught in a memory too heavy to speak aloud.
"After that, we eat. Then you're helping me chop some firewood for tonight. Let's go, Spark. Time to find us some meat," he said, rising to his feet.
A harsh cough rattled from his chest, and this time, Riven noticed a faint trace of blood on the old man's hand.
Is… is that normal? Riven wondered, unease creeping into his thoughts as he watched Logan walk away, coughing into his hand.
He shook it off with a sigh and picked up the worn book, flipping it open and settling onto the porch step to read.
Alright… Teyvat. That's the name of this world, he noted, scanning the pages. Seven nations… just like the old man said. His eyes moved down the list: Mondstadt, Liyue, Sumeru, Fontaine, Natlan, Inazuma, and Snezhnaya.
Each nation, according to the book, was governed by an Archon—a god who embodied a specific element and ideal. Gods rule the nations? That's… a lot.
He paused, brows furrowed. So if no one in Mondstadt recognizes me… maybe the answer lies in another nation.
Riven closed the book with a quiet thud, eyes drifting to the forest beyond.
One step at a time.
Riven carefully set the book down on the porch, making sure it wouldn't get dusty or wet. Slinging his bag off his shoulder, he made his way around the cabin toward the back, where the lake shimmered in the afternoon light.
He looked around—quiet, peaceful, no one in sight. With a small sigh of relief, he placed his bag gently on the grass and stepped into the cool water. The chill sent a jolt through him at first, but it was refreshing. He waded deeper, scrubbing away the salty grit and sand still clinging to his skin. After everything that had happened, it felt good just to be still.
He leaned back, letting the water cradle him as he floated, eyes closed, the warmth of the sun fading into the gentle embrace of dusk.
By the time the sun had set, Riven was dressed in a fresh set of clothes—simple, well-worn, but made of comfortable fabric. Even the shoes Logan had given him fit perfectly. Now, the two of them sat by a crackling campfire outside the cabin, the golden glow of the flames flickering across their faces as the scent of rabbit stew filled the air.
They ate in quiet for a while, listening to the chorus of crickets and the occasional crackle of burning wood. Then, Riven glanced over at Logan.
"Say, Logan… I've been wondering. What happened to your son?" he asked gently. "If you don't mind me asking."
Logan's hand paused over his bowl. He let out a long sigh, the weight of memory settling over his shoulders.
"Well," he began, voice low, "I once had a beautiful family. My wife was kind… always smiling, even in hard times. But she took ill. Didn't make it."
Riven stayed quiet, letting him speak.
"My son… took a different path," Logan said quietly. "Wanted to be an adventurer, just like his mother. Brave, stubborn, always chasing something greater than himself."
He stirred the stew slowly, his eyes distant as they fixed on the fire.
"He died on one of his expeditions. Dragonspine took him. A cruel, frozen place where too many adventurers lose their lives."
Logan's voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "He thought he could conquer it. But the mountain doesn't care how brave you are."
He exhaled slowly, as if each word had carved something from him.
"You see, kid… sometimes the world takes more than it gives. That's why I live out here now. Quieter. Simpler. Safer."
So he had a family… and lost them all. That made Riven wonder—did he have one too? Judging by his appearance, he looked to be in his mid-twenties. Could he have children out there somewhere, wondering what happened to their father?
The thought twisted in his gut.
Then again, maybe he was too young for that. Maybe not. With his memories gone, anything was possible.
Logan's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Kid, if you want to make it out there, you'll need more than survival skills. You'll need to learn how to fight too." He grabbed a stick and poked at the fire, embers flickering upward.
Riven glanced over. "Speaking of that… where'd you learn how to survive out here?"
"I used to be a Knight of Favonius. A captain," Logan said, folding his arms across his chest. He looked over at Spark, who was dozing peacefully beside the fire. "But those days are behind me now."