A Slow-Life Fantasy Story

The first thing Aya noticed was the sound of wind through grass.

The second thing was that she was not in a hospital.

The memory hit her all at once — blinding headlights, the screech of tires, the cold bite of asphalt. She had been on her way home from her night shift. She had looked both ways. It hadn’t mattered.

When she opened her eyes again, she was lying in a field of white light, soft as a dream.

“Welcome, young soul.”

Aya sat up quickly. Three glowing figures floated before her, neither male nor female, their forms shifting like clouds.

“You have passed away,” one of them said gently. “But your soul is strong, and it is not yet your time. We offer you a choice: a new life, in a new world. You may take with you two blessings — choose wisely.”

Aya blinked. “…Wait. Are you telling me this is—?”

“A reincarnation,” another voice supplied. “A chance to begin again.”

Aya’s heart thudded. Like an isekai story? This is literally the setup of half the manga I’ve ever read.

Her mind raced. If she was going to live in a fantasy world, what would keep her alive? She didn’t want to be some battle maniac or sword-wielding hero. She just wanted… a safe life.

“I want Item Box Unlimited,” she said at last, lifting her chin.

The glowing figures hummed in approval. “A wise choice. You may carry anything without limit. And your second blessing?”

“Appraisal,” Aya said. “So I can know what I’m looking at. Food, herbs, monsters, traps—everything.”

The figures glowed brighter. “You will do well. Live fully, and may this second life bring you peace.”

The world turned black.

Aya woke to the smell of bread and wood smoke.

She was in a small room with creaky wooden walls, surrounded by children sleeping on straw beds. Her own hands were tiny and pale. Her legs barely reached the edge of the bed.

A kind-faced woman entered, carrying a basket of laundry.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” she said warmly. “You gave us a scare! Welcome to Greendale Orphanage, little one. What’s your name?”

Aya hesitated. Her old name belonged to her old world, but… it still felt right.

“…Aya.”

“Well, Aya,” the woman said, patting her head, “breakfast is soon. Come along.”

Life in the orphanage was simple but demanding. There were chores, shared meals, and lessons from the town priest about reading and numbers. Aya quickly realized this wasn’t just a fantasy world — it was medieval fantasy. There was no electricity, no running water, no medicine except herbs.

But there was magic.

Aya discovered her Item Box the first time she sneaked a piece of bread back to bed. It vanished into a faint swirl of light and reappeared just as fresh when she pulled it out later.

Her Appraisal skill worked with a simple thought:

Item: Wild Mushroom (Edible)

Item: Creek Water (Clean)

Condition: Aya – Healthy, Slightly Hungry

Aya grinned. Okay. I can work with this.

By age ten, Aya had become the orphanage’s unofficial provider.

While other kids played, she slipped into the woods, using Appraisal to find edible roots and berries. She filled her Item Box and shared with everyone when she returned.

The caretaker noticed, of course, but instead of punishing Aya, she just smiled tiredly.

“Good girl. You’re keeping us all fed this year. The harvest was poor — you may have saved us.”

Aya’s chest warmed. In her first life, she had worked endlessly just to scrape by. Here, she was actually helping people.

At twelve, Aya’s world grew larger.

She started mapping the forest paths, marking which creeks stayed clean and where dangerous thorns grew. She learned to set simple snares for rabbits and foxes.

Adventurers passing through town sometimes stopped to ask her for directions.

“You’ve got a sharp eye, kid,” one of them said, ruffling her hair. “Ever thought of joining the Guild as a scout?”

Aya tilted her head. “Scouts don’t fight, right?”

“Not much,” the adventurer chuckled. “Mostly they guide, detect traps, keep the party safe.”

Aya felt a little spark in her chest. A job that rewards exploring and gathering knowledge? That’s… actually perfect.

At fourteen, Aya left the orphanage with a small pouch of coins and a secondhand cloak. She walked into the Adventurer’s Guild and asked to register as a Scout.

The receptionist, a tall elf with sharp ears, raised an eyebrow.

“Most kids want to be fighters or mages. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Aya said firmly. “I’m good at finding things. I can navigate forests and identify herbs.”

The elf studied her for a long moment, then stamped the form.

“Fine. But don’t bite off more than you can chew. Start with collection quests and work your way up.”

Aya nodded, determination burning in her chest.

The next few years were a blur of growth.

Aya took every safe quest she could find — gathering herbs, mapping ruins, delivering letters. Her Appraisal skill leveled up until she could read monsters’ weaknesses at a glance:

Monster: Lesser Slime (Weak to Fire, Slow Movement)

She learned how to avoid danger rather than fight it. She got better at spotting tracks, reading the wind, and setting warning bells at night camps.

By sixteen, she was a C-rank Adventurer, the youngest in Greendale. People called her The Little Scout of Everleaf.

But Aya still saved every coin. She ate simply, slept in guild dorms, and sold rare herbs from deep forest expeditions.

One fateful day, Aya joined a party to explore an old ruin rumored to be haunted.

Deep inside, while the fighters cleared out skeletons, Aya’s Appraisal caught something unusual:

Item: Sealed Grimoire (Beginner’s Barrier Magic)

Her heart skipped a beat.

That night, by the campfire, Aya cracked the book open and carefully followed the instructions.

The first spell was simple: Ward, a tiny protective barrier that could block an arrow or claw. Aya nearly cried with relief when she successfully cast it.

If I can protect myself… maybe I really can live safely in this world.

At seventeen, Aya had enough gold saved to buy a small plot of land near the forest.

The guild master, a gruff old dwarf, shook her hand.

“You’ve worked hard, girl. Most adventurers spend their whole lives chasing coin. I’m glad you found your peace early.”

Aya smiled. “I think I’ve had enough adventures. I just want to grow food and live quietly.”

The farm was small but perfect. A spring bubbled nearby, and the soil was rich. Aya used her Item Box to carry lumber, tools, and seeds.

She built a small house with her own hands, learning as she went. She grew vegetables, raised a few chickens, and kept the place surrounded by a glowing Sanctuary Barrier that protected it from monsters.

Adventurers sometimes stopped by to ask for directions or buy fresh vegetables. Children from the orphanage visited, laughing as they helped weed the garden.

For the first time in both her lives, Aya could rest without fear.

One evening, as the sun set over Everleaf Forest, Aya stood in her field and looked at the golden sky.

She had survived death, a new world, and countless small dangers. Not because she was strong, but because she was careful, clever, and stubborn enough to keep going.

She smiled softly and whispered to the wind:

“This time, I think I’ve really found my home.”

And under the stars, Aya began her slow, happy life — farming by day, reading by lamplight at night, and living peacefully, exactly as she had always dreamed.

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