He spotted Suesor perched on a fallen log the next morning.
The sun was rising over the treetops and casting long shadows. He watched from afar as she continued to watch the sky through a gap in the trees. A breeze ruffled her void-colored hair, tossing it behind her shoulders like an elegant halo. Her skin glowed pale and luminous, but her eyes shone brighter than any star. If he wasn't so distracted by her, he would have noticed how his breath caught when he realized that he was admiring her again.
He couldn't help it, she was like a mother better than his own.
It was early yet he didn't want to bother her. Jaune rubbed the sleep from his eyes. With his body still sore from the training the night before, he sat up.
"Good morning, Jaune."
She greeted without turning her head. "Did you rest well?"
"I think. Like I got run over by a herd of Beowolves."
Sauelsuesor offered a small smile. "Pain is the body's way of reminding you that you are alive. But today, we shift our focus. Combat is only one aspect of survival. There are other skills you must learn if you are to thrive."
She pointed at him with a finger held aloft. "This is not a matter that can be imparted to an individual in a single night. One must first engage in practice to refine one's abilities."
Jaune scratched his chin. Suesor was right. He was used to living a quiet life with his family and friends - not running around fighting monsters every day. Now it would be difficult to keep up with Suesor's training schedule. He had barely gotten enough time to catch his breath after the battle yesterday.
He groaned. The day was bright, there was no Grimm as of now, especially with his alien mentor at his side, and he couldn't even get a good night's sleep last night. He's not telling her that though.
Jaune blinked, curious. "Like what?"
"Come." She said, rising gracefully from her seat. "Let us proceed on foot, and I shall elucidate."
The duo wandered deeper into the forest, the morning air crisp and invigorating. She paused occasionally to inspect the surroundings, especially the flora and fauna, her keen eyes catching details a human would have otherwise overlooked.
Jaune followed, watching intently. He's not sure if she seemed to be scanning for some kind of danger - a sign, perhaps, or an unusual scent, although Jaune couldn't discern anything apart from the smell of grass. His senses were sharper today now unusually, he could pick out scents just fine. The wind smelled fresh, and the ground was soft beneath his feet, although he couldn't tell whether it was due to mud or grass. It was pretty much all he could smell at this point, anyway.
"Survival," she began, "is not merely about wielding a weapon. It is about understanding your environment, adapting to it, and using it to your advantage."
Jaune almost stumbled on the forest floor, his sword strapped to his back bumping against him awkwardly.
"Slow your breathing," she called back without turning her head. "You waste energy by overexerting yourself."
"I'm not overexerting," Jaune mumbled. She was right.
She glanced over her shoulder. Her golden eyes appeared to glimmer even in the shadow of the trees. "It is not an insult, Jaune. It is a lesson. Efficiency can often mean the difference between survival and failure."
For some reason, Jaune straightened, puffing out his chest a little as if to prove her wrong, and that, however, he quickly stumbled again over a protruding root.
Suesor sighed but gestured for him to join her at a small clearing nearby.
She knelt by a cluster of bushes, her hands lightly brushing over their leaves. She plucked a small, single, bright red berry and held it up for the boy to see.
"This is poisonous," she said, her tone even but firm. "Consuming even a single one could be fatal. It could incapacitate or even kill you within hours. However, the leaves of this plant can be boiled to create a medicinal tea."
Jaune leaned closer, furrowing his brow. "Poisonous? That looks just like some of the berries I used to see back home. My mom used to pick ones like these all the time."
"Your familiarity may betray you here." She replied, placing the berry back on the bush.
"You cannot assume safety based on appearances. Look at the slight sheen on its surface—that is the toxin."
Jaune frowned, staring at the berry, committing its details to memory it smelled bitter too. "How do you know all this? I mean, you said you're not from here."
She stood, brushing. "I have spent eons observing life across countless worlds. Though I lack familiarity with this one's geography, life tends to follow certain patterns. Life adapts, but its fundamental truths remain consistent."
"Consistent how?" Jaune asked, tilting his head.
"Survival requires understanding," she said simply. "Plants can heal or harm. Water can sustain or drown. Fire can warm or destroy. These dualities exist everywhere, and they are as much a part of life as the air we breathe."
Jaune scratched the back of his neck as he tried to figure out how to respond to Suesors explanation. Was she giving him actual, useful information instead of confusing him further?
He followed her as she headed off.
Later, she halted and pointed to a cluster of thick vines hanging from a tree.
"What would you do with those, Jaune?"
He squinted at them. "Uh… use them as rope?"
"Correct." She said, walking over to inspect them. "The fibres are strong enough to bind. They could be used to secure shelter, create traps, or even for climbing if needed. However, these specific vines can also irritate the skin. Handling them with bare hands would cause severe itching and swelling."
He groaned. "Do I need gloves for everything now?"
"Not necessarily. It's about being aware of risks and weighing them against necessity. Sometimes discomfort is unavoidable, however, it should invariably be assessed with prudence."
"Hm."
They continued trekking until she suddenly raised her hand, signaling for him to stop. She crouched low, pointing to a faint trail of disturbed leaves and broken twigs.
"Look."
He tried to make sense of what she was seeing. "Animal tracks?"
"Correct. The forest tells a story if you know how to read it."
She motioned for him to kneel beside her and began tracing the marks with her fingertips. "These tracks were left by a small creature, likely searching for food. Notice the uneven spacing? It suggests the creature was injured or cautious."
Jaune stared at the tracks. "But I already know how to study tracks?"
"And we shall cultivate your ability to experience and attention to detail," she replied. "Over time, this shall further improve. Now, tell me—what do you see here?"
She gestured to another set of tracks nearby. Jaune leaned closer.
"Well, these ones are bigger. And deeper. So, whatever made them must've been heavier."
"Good. What else?"
Jaune added, "The prints are farther apart, so it was moving fast."
"Exactly. That is to observe, not merely look."
She gestured to a thicket of trees with thick, intertwining branches. "If you were caught in a storm or pursued, this would make a suitable shelter."
Sauelsuesor approached and ran her fingers along the branches. "The natural density provides a barrier against the wind. With minor adjustments, such as adding foliage or weaving additional branches, it could serve as a temporary haven."
Jaune nodded slowly, filing away the information. "What about water? How do I know if it's safe to drink?"
"Clear water flowing over stones is often safe, though not always," Sauelsuesor explained. "If in doubt, boiling it is the safest method to remove impurities."
She crouched near a small stream, scooping up a handful of water and letting it trickle through her fingers. "Life thrives in clean water. If you see fish or insects, it is likely safe."
Jaune knelt beside her, staring at his reflection in the water. "That simple..."
"It is simple when you know what to look for," she replied. "But simplicity does not mean ease. It is a skill that must be practiced."
She led Jaune to a clearing, motioning for him to sit, and though curious, Jaune could tell this wasn't just another lesson in survival.
"Physical survival is only part of the equation. Your mind, spirit, and heart must also be strong. Fear, doubt, and despair are far more insidious enemies than any creature."
He sat cross-legged on the soft grass. "Are we meditating or something?"
"In a way." She replied, taking a seat opposite him. "This process extends beyond mere mental clarification. One must confront the suppressed thoughts and emotions, as they constitute an integral part of one's being, akin to one's soul."
"I recognize the difficulty of the situation and the feelings of being overwhelmed. That is precisely why you must not suppress them. Acknowledge that fear, Jaune. Understand it—"
He didn't like to admit he was afraid, but she knew that already. This weakness may lead to even greater weaknesses. He has much to do, and he must make decisions based on what is right—not what he thinks. She simply wishes to help him overcome his fear, but if it continues to dominate his life, then they will never move forward.
"—Subsequently, transcend it."
His hands shook, and his shoulders slumped. "How am I supposed to do that?"
"By allowing yourself to feel." She said simply. "You hide behind a mask, pretending to be fine when you are not. It is not a weakness to admit that you are struggling."
Her words struck a chord, and for a moment, he felt a lump rise in his throat. He took a deep breath, "I'll try."
"Now, vulnerability is not weakness. To feel deeply is to be human. But what does it signify to you?"
Jaune frowned. "Isn't it better to just push all that stuff down and pretend it doesn't bother me?"
"No," she said firmly. "Buried emotions will fester and consume you from within. Instead, acknowledge them. Accept them. Only then can you control their influence."
She gestured to the clearing around them.
Jaune closes his eyes. Focus on his breathing. Letting the forest guide him, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
She continued, her voice softer, "Imagine the pain and fear inside you as a heavy stone. Do you feel its weight? Do not let it overwhelm you. Instead, place it in your hands."
Jaune's brows furrowed as he visualized the stone. It was jagged and cold, pressing into his palms.
"That stone is a part of your journey, as a reminder of your resilience."
"What do I do with it?" he asked quietly.
"You carry it. Not as a burden, or something that defines you."
She continued, "Remember that you have faced the darkness before and emerged stronger. And you rely on those who stand beside you. True strength lies in knowing when to seek help. No individual can persevere in isolation. Even I, with all my power, have found solace in guiding you."
Jaune slowly opened his eyes, surprised by her candid admission.
"Your valor inspires me, Jaune. You remind me of the value of hope."
The howling wind carried coarse grains of sand across the land where the dunes shifted like an ocean. The raging storm swallowed everything in its path. A dark cloak billowed against the storm's fury, the long, tattered edges dragging through the sand, with a mask concealing the face, the stranger remained steady by the desert winds.
He had arrived in this strange new world.
After scanning the endless sands before him, he tilted his head slightly, his gloved hands clasped behind his back. A deep breath, though unnecessary, escaped his lips behind the mask.
He must ascertain the state of this place. Has it taken root here as well?
He stood still as his thoughts ran a calculated procession of possibilities. He tapped a single finger against the side of his mask, considering.
"The Pestilence."
It was a truth only he could see. His mind was already turning. If this world was afflicted, as all others had been, then he would have much work ahead of him.
It had been quite some time since he had been somewhere unfamiliar and untainted by the filth of the disease he so tirelessly sought to cure. Of course, he knew better than to assume purity. The Pestilence had a way of festering in the most unexpected places, corrupting, spreading, lurking beneath the surface.
He could not allow it to fester here.
His fingers twitched, brushing against the worn leather of his satchel. His instruments of mercy remained intact. That was good. Should he find the afflicted, he would need them.
A city lay in the distance. The haze of the storm had obscured it at first, but now, when he lifted his gaze, peering through the fading winds of the thinning sandstorm, it stood revealed.
Vacuo.
A city built in defiance of the desert's cruelty, and to his eyes, it was but another dwelling of the diseased. Another place to assess. To cure.
A slow nod.
"A settlement. I shall begin my work there."
The city of the desert awaited, and with it, the possibility of the Pestilence. If it was here, the doctor would root it out.
He would save them all.