Death, for all its hype, was underwhelming.
No golden stairway. No mysterious god in robes. Just Caelum waking up flat on his back in a random grassy field with a crick in his neck and the sun trying to blind him.
"...Ugh, where the hell am I?"
He sat up, rubbing his eyes, only to be met with something straight out of an RPG.
A glowing blue screen hovered in the air.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZED]Welcome, Player.You have successfully transmigrated into the world of Aegaria Chronicles™.
Assigned Identity: Caelum EverenTier: Extra
"...Oh no."
Caelum stared at the screen, blinking. "Did you say extra?"
Another ding.
[Starter Pack Received]
1x Magic License (Basic)
100 Gold Coins
1x Admission Letter to Arcanum Academy
1x Potato (???)
Quest: Begin your journey at Arcanum Academy! Save the world! Make friends! Get powerful! Let's gooo! 🚀
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I knew binging all those isekai novels at 3 a.m. was a mistake…"
He glanced down at himself—leaner body, standard fantasy clothes, and hands that looked like they'd never held a controller, much less a sword.
But it was real. He was in the game. His game.
Aegaria Chronicles, the open-world, magic academy simulator-slash-RPG where tragedy, betrayal, and end-of-the-world events were served daily with a side of overly complicated leveling systems.
Caelum groaned.
"And I'm not even the protagonist. I'm an extra."
He threw his hands up. "Is this one of those setups where the extra has a hidden skill and somehow takes the hero's place?"
He paused.
Then immediately shook his head.
"Yeah, no. That sounds like effort. Way too much effort. I know how this world works. The hero fights demons, gets traumatized, probably dies once or twice, and then maybe wins. I'm not here for that plotline. I'm here for early retirement."
Ten Minutes Later...
Caelum sat on a boulder near a dirt path, the academy letter in one hand and a blank stare on his face.
He read it again.
Dear Caelum Everen,You've been accepted into Arcanum Academy, the most prestigious magical institution in Aegaria. Please arrive within 10 days...
He squinted at the glowing acceptance seal.
"...Tempting. But also no."
[System Warning: Refusing the Academy Route may result in missed character development, lost loot, and a serious case of NPC envy.]
"I'll survive."
Recommended Action: Begin your journey as a student hero!
Discover secrets!
Defeat the Demon King!
Collect waifus!
"I'm married to the grind now," Caelum replied, standing up and stretching. "And by grind, I mean potatoes. Definitely not demon-hunting."
Three days later, Caelum stood at the edge of a quiet valley, overlooking a small, sleepy village surrounded by trees and mist-covered hills.
Vintale.
A place so irrelevant it wasn't even mentioned in the game wiki. Perfect.
He made his way down the path with a confident stride and an internal monologue filled with denial and dreams of livestock.
The moment he stepped foot in the village, he traded in his fancy academy invitation for farming tools and a small plot of land with a worn-down cottage.
Goodbye, heroism.
Hello, soil.
One Week In
"Okay, so planting potatoes is harder than it looks."
Caelum wiped dirt off his cheek, standing over his very crooked, very sad-looking garden row. "I played Farming Life Simulator 2. I was a god in that game. What is this betrayal?"
A gust of wind blew his straw hat off. He chased it for a solid thirty seconds before tripping on his own rake.
"System, if you're watching, yes—I hope you're enjoying this humiliation."
[System Note: Your potato crop has a 62% chance of failing. Consider reading a book.]
"Helpful. Thank you, Alexa From Hell."
Despite the chaos, the quiet village life grew on him.
He woke with the sunrise. Tended the soil. Chatted with the old man down the road who insisted on calling him "lad" no matter how many times he corrected him.
He built his first fence. Cursed his first fence when it immediately fell over. Rebuilt it. Then cursed the goat that broke through it anyway.
By the end of the second week, Caelum had bruises on his shins, dirt under his nails, and a genuine smile he didn't even notice.
It was during the Spring Market when he first saw her.
She stood near a flower stall, half-hidden behind a curtain of willow branches. Long dark hair, simple dress, and a calm presence that made her feel... separate from the noise around her.
Her eyes met his.
Just for a second.
Then she turned and walked away.
Caelum blinked.
"...Welp. That's my wife. Calling it now."
The merchant beside him chuckled. "Careful there, lad. That's Elaria. Sweet girl, but carries more sadness than a rainy song. Keeps to herself. Lives near the old chapel on the hill."
He watched her go, something in his chest shifting.
Not fate. Not destiny.
Just something... warm.
That night, he sat on his porch, sipping lukewarm tea and staring up at the stars.
The academy was probably just beginning orientation. Students choosing elements. Duel challenges. Plot flags activating left and right.
Caelum leaned back, arms behind his head.
"I don't need power. I don't need plot armor. I just want to live."
The system pinged again.
[Main Quest Ignored: Progress at Your Own Risk]
New Side Quest: Peaceful Living Mode ActivatedReward: 1x Sense of FulfillmentPenalty: Occasional Existential Crisis
He grinned.
"Bring it on."
Morning came not with a heroic trumpet, but with the very non-heroic screech of a rooster outside Caelum's window.
"Alright, alright, you demonic alarm clock," he groaned, blindly tossing a sock in its general direction.
It missed, of course.
He sat up in bed, hair a mess, shirt half-hanging off one shoulder, and a vague sense of betrayal lingering in his chest.
This was the sixth day in a row the rooster had attacked his porch shoes.
And he still couldn't figure out where it was hiding.
"I swear if I die in this world, it's not going to be from demons. It's going to be poultry-related homicide."
He stood, stretched, and peeked out the window.
Sure enough, his left boot was missing again.
After a hasty breakfast of burnt toast and revenge-fueled determination, Caelum set out to work on his fence—again.
The previous one had been knocked over by a goat that looked him dead in the eye while chewing on it.
"Y'know," he muttered while hammering in a new post, "in any other world, I'd be fighting monsters, collecting cursed relics, unlocking hidden bloodlines."
Clank. Clank.
"But no. I'm here, losing territorial disputes to livestock."
Clank.
There was a soft laugh behind him.
He froze.
Turned around.
And there she was.
Standing a few paces away, hands behind her back, that same calm aura surrounding her like sunlight through fog.
Elaria.
"You're very passionate about your fence," she said with a small smile.
He blinked. "...It's a life-and-death battle. You have no idea."
She tilted her head. "That serious?"
He gestured wildly. "I have a goat that believes in manifest destiny."
That made her laugh again. Quiet, but warm.
"I'm Elaria," she said.
"Caelum," he replied, suddenly awkward. "Resident fence victim."
They shook hands. Her fingers were rough—calloused. A working woman's hands.
She wasn't dressed like nobility. No makeup, no jewelry. Just a simple dress, a satchel over her shoulder, and a flower tucked behind one ear.
She looked... ordinary.
But something about her didn't feel ordinary at all.
That evening, Caelum sat on his porch, tea in hand, watching the sunset paint the sky in oranges and purples.
Elaria had stopped by again—briefly—to drop off some seeds.
He didn't even ask for them. She just said, "You looked like you needed help," and handed him a small cloth pouch before walking off.
He opened it later.
Lavender. Wild basil. Mint.
His garden was going to smell amazing.
The days passed quietly.
Caelum fell into a rhythm.
Sunrise. Work. Visit the market. Repair something. Cook badly. Occasionally chase the rooster.
Elaria became a part of that rhythm.
Sometimes she'd sit nearby while he worked. Sometimes they talked. Sometimes they just existed near each other—comfortable silence and all.
She told him about her love for herbs. About how she lived alone near the old chapel, tending a garden no one ever visited. About how she'd wandered here two years ago and just... stayed.
Caelum told her about his "travels" in vague, game-safe terms.
"I tried to be a mage once. Terrible at it. Accidentally lit my own pants on fire."
Her laugh that day was brighter than the sun.
One Month In
They were in the fields, planting new seedlings.
Elaria was humming something under her breath, and Caelum was once again trying not to look like a total idiot digging a hole.
"Hey," he said suddenly, wiping his forehead. "Have you ever had one of those days where everything feels too good?"
She looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Like... it's peaceful. And that's weird. I've never had this kind of peace before. Makes me suspicious."
She thought about it. "Peace isn't something you question. It's something you're allowed to have."
Caelum stared at her.
"...That sounded way too wise for someone who watched me fall into a cabbage patch yesterday."
"I never said I was wise. Just observant."
He grinned. "Touché."
The village came alive for Spring Festival soon after.
Colorful ribbons. Laughter in the streets. Fresh pies. Bad music. Even worse dancing.
Caelum tried to stay in the background.
But Elaria found him anyway.
"Dance with me?" she asked.
He blinked. "Uh. I have two left feet. Both of which are injured."
She held out her hand.
He hesitated... then took it.
One dance turned into two.
Then three.
By the end of the night, his cheeks hurt from smiling.
So did hers.
That night, after she walked him home, they stood awkwardly near his gate.
"Thanks," he said softly. "For, y'know... everything."
"You're welcome."
A pause.
Then she stepped forward and, in a moment that felt impossibly normal, fixed the collar of his shirt with a slight frown.
"There," she whispered. "Now you don't look like a scarecrow."
He laughed.
She smiled.
And then she left.
The system pinged, uninvited.
[Side Quest Update: Bonds Forming]Status: Something's growing here 🌱
Caelum stared at it for a moment.
Then dismissed it.
He didn't need prompts to tell him what he already felt.
For the first time in a long time...
He was genuinely, undeniably happy.
Caelum never thought his happiest days would involve dirt under his nails and lavender in his hair.
But here he was—on his knees, shirt rolled up to the elbows, sleeves stained with soil, trying to coax a stubborn tomato plant into staying upright.
"Why do you lean like that?" he muttered. "Are you trying to die on me? Is this rebellion? Are you sentient?"
"You talk to plants a lot," Elaria's voice chimed from behind him.
He looked over his shoulder. She stood there with a basket on her hip, full of herbs and wild greens. A few petals had tangled in her hair.
"I talk to everything," Caelum said, straightening up with a groan. "Fence posts. Goats. Mysterious system notifications. It's a sickness."
She smirked. "What do the goats say back?"
"That I'm weak. They mock me."
Elaria giggled, setting the basket down. "Poor thing. Mocked by livestock."
"You mock me too."
"Only gently."
He sat beside her as she began sorting the herbs. The scent of mint and basil mingled with the early summer breeze. Their knees brushed, but neither moved away.
"Is this what you pictured for your life?" Caelum asked after a quiet moment. "Tending gardens in a tiny village?"
Elaria paused, fingers curling around a sprig of thyme.
"No," she said softly. "But... it's the life I chose."
There was weight in her voice. Something quiet and heavy and unsaid.
Caelum didn't press.
Instead, he leaned back, eyes closed.
"Funny. I chose this life because I was running away."
She glanced at him. "From what?"
He cracked one eye open.
"Responsibility. Doom. A potential demon apocalypse."
Elaria raised an eyebrow.
He shrugged. "Long story. I'll tell you when you're older."
She rolled her eyes, but she smiled.
That night, Caelum couldn't sleep.
The stars were too bright. The wind too still. His mind, too loud.
So he went walking.
Barefoot, through the village paths, until he found himself near the old chapel.
It stood half-ruined, overgrown with ivy and silence. And just past it, like always, was Elaria's cottage—small, tucked into the trees, candles glowing gently inside.
He hesitated at the gate.
Then, to his surprise, the door opened.
Elaria stepped out, wrapped in a shawl.
"I thought I heard someone," she said, her voice calm, but a little surprised.
Caelum scratched his head. "Couldn't sleep."
She looked at him for a moment.
"Tea?"
He nodded.
Her home smelled like dried flowers and cinnamon.
Simple wooden shelves. Dozens of jars with strange names. A dried bouquet hanging above the window. A single, framed picture faced down on a table near her bed.
She didn't comment on it. He didn't ask.
They sat at the small table, tea steaming between them.
"I never get visitors at night," she said.
"I never go anywhere at night," he replied.
A pause.
"Why now?"
Caelum stared into his cup. "I guess... I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts."
"That bad?"
"That loud."
She nodded, taking a sip.
The silence between them felt soft. Not awkward. Not cold. Just... familiar.
"You're hiding something," she said suddenly.
Caelum blinked. "Me?"
She met his gaze. "You speak like someone older than you look. You reference things that don't exist here. And you avoid questions really well."
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're not wrong. I've got secrets."
"So do I."
He looked up at her.
For a moment, her expression changed.
Not sad. Not scared.
Just tired.
"I wasn't born here," she said. "I came to this village after... after something very bad happened."
She didn't elaborate.
He didn't push.
Instead, he lifted his cup in a toast.
"To quiet places."
She clinked hers against it. "To second chances."
They drank.
And that night, something invisible and undeniable shifted between them.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
The lavender bloomed. The tomato plant stopped rebelling. The goats... were still jerks.
But Caelum didn't mind anymore.
He laughed more easily. Slept more soundly. Looked forward to mornings, because he knew she'd stop by. Or he'd find her in the garden. Or they'd simply exist in the same space, quietly, comfortably.
It was never a dramatic love.
It didn't need to be.
One afternoon, while helping her carry water from the well, Caelum finally asked:
"Why herbs?"
Elaria looked at him, surprised.
"You're always tending them," he continued. "You light up when you talk about them. There's gotta be a story there."
She smiled faintly.
"My mother loved them. She used to say each herb has a purpose. Even the weeds."
"Even weeds?"
"Especially weeds," she said. "They grow where they're not wanted. But they survive anyway."
Caelum looked at her for a long time.
"...You're not just talking about plants, are you?"
She didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
That night, Caelum lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
Everything about this life felt right.
But the system hadn't spoken in weeks.
Which worried him more than he liked to admit.
He rolled over and whispered to the dark.
"Don't take this away from me."
No response.
Just the sound of wind against the windows.
Caelum didn't know how long this peace would last.Didn't know how many sunsets like this he'd get.
But for now...He had her.And that was enough.