Chapter 3: Discovery
I woke the next morning with a stiff neck and back. My body was accustomed to the best mattresses money can buy—not a bed of literal grass and dirt.
To make matters worse, halfway through the night my mediocre attempt at a shelter had collapsed on me, and I’d woken in a panic, fighting off my fallen roof like it was an attacker in the night.
“Those leaves and sticks never stood a chance...” I said aloud, shadow boxing the air in an attempt to cheer myself up.
It didn’t work.
My stomach complained, but it was the groan of hunger, not the result of poisoning by berry.
With more than a little dread for the work to come, I began crafting another fire. It took little time to collect the materials, and with a deep breath, I started spinning my fire-starting stick in the notch of the thick branch.
To my surprise, the movement felt more natural, and my sense of dread dissipated like dust in the wind. I lost myself to the movements, and after only fifteen minutes, a wisp of smoke rose from the branch.
My eyes going wide, I redoubled my effort, steadily twisting the stick back and forth between my palms.
The smoke grew, and with a swift movement, I lifted the branch and poured the ember into my pile of tinder. I knelt and blew on the small coal, and after three breaths, the fire bloomed.Vissit novelbin(.)c.om for updates
***
After purifying more water and gulping it down, I plucked another berry and ate it raw. The berry was so sweet on my fasted tongue that tears swelled in my eyes.
It took all of my significant willpower to not rush the bushes and eat berries by the handful—I needed to wait another eight hours to ensure the single uncooked fruit didn’t make me sick.
As I sat and stared at the water and lamented my lack of coffee, movement across and to my right caught my eye. Darting my eyes towards it, the lizard part of my brain expected an attack. Excitement replaced fear at the sight of a black fish swimming in the pond, slowly making its way along the outskirts in search of prey.
My mind whirled with possibilities, and my mouth salivated at the thought of fish cooked over a fire.
Could I craft a makeshift spear? Or even a fishing rod?
Given I had eight hours to kill before I could deem the raw berries safe to eat, I welcomed the distraction and rushed headlong toward it.
I found a suitable stick to use as a rod; it was neither too dry, nor too green, and had just the right amount of give. I returned to the palms and split a long string from the center of a frond to act as a line.
Then came the most difficult part.
For a hook, I carved and slowly worked at a stick using the sharp rock from the day before. It was long and tedious work, and by the time I finished, the sun was low in the sky. As the last sliver of wood was carved away, a familiar pulse tugged at my mind.
[Error: Insufficient power. Superfluous systems offline.]
I rolled my eyes.
“What would I do without you, System?”
Eight hours had passed while I fixated on carving the wooden hook, and I all but skipped over to the berry bush and ate a single handful of the fruit.
They were both sweet and a little tart; my mouth hungered for more the moment I’d swallowed the last one. I had to wait another eight hours, however, before I would know for certain that the berries were safe for me to eat.
I boiled some water, rehydrated, then set to searching for bait.
I turned over rocks along the bank, but found nothing of use. I searched for fallen logs or rocks to turn in the forest, but again, I found nothing of use. I’d found a single rock to turn, and expecting a fat worm to be hiding underneath, all I found was dirt.
Walking back to the pond, I radiated frustration from both my hunger and futile search. As I walked, feeling sorry for myself and dragging my feet in abject disparagement, I noticed a section of bark on a tree with odd markings that seemed to be falling away.
Raising an eyebrow, I walked to the bark, and carefully peeled it away, revealed a giant grub. It looked almost exactly like a witchetty grub, just a little darker.
About the size of my thumb, it sat there uselessly, lacking the ability to do anything but burrow through wood. I smiled at my savior, but paused as I went to pick it up.
Grubs and bugs are extremely nutrient dense, right? Would I be better off just eating this thing...?
I glanced at the grub again, narrowing my eyes at the way its pincers worked at the air. Its weird little legs undulated ineffectually as they tried to find purchase.
“Nope. Fuck that noise. You’re bait, my unfortunate friend.”
I picked the grub up carefully and ran back to the pond as the light slowly leached out of the sky. I picked up my rod and slid the insect over the hook while silently apologizing to the ugly little thing.
Then I cast my line out into the pond.
With my feet in the cool water, and my eyes watching the tip of the line for any movement, a sense of ease radiated through me.
If they’re also growing here, there’s a good chance they’ll be throughout the entire forest...
I was correct in that assumption, and I spent the next few days following the stream and nibbling on the sweet offerings of the forest. I had to stop a few times a day to purify more water, and the last few hours of daylight each day were spent creating a small makeshift shelter to sleep in.
By the third day of travel, I’d become so deft at crafting the small huts that it took less than an hour, judging by the sun’s shifting and fading light.
Creating embers by hand had been steadily getting easier also, but it was still a pain to get going each time.
As I tied down the last palm-leaf of my fourth shelter, the System spoke up.
[Error: Insufficient power. Superfluous systems offline.]
The messages were starting to bother me less, and I dismissed this one without a reaction, instead crawling into my shelter and falling asleep within minutes.
***
The sun was directly above the next day when I noticed something odd.
In the forest ahead, there seemed to be a path clear of any trees. With bubbling anticipation I tried and failed to keep at bay, I power-walked towards the anomaly.
Anticipation became hope, and hope became joy.
I had found a road.
The road wasn’t paved; it was made only of dirt. The creek crossed paths with the road and weathered sleepers made of dark wood formed an old-yet-sturdy bridge from bank to bank. The road didn’t look like it had seen too much traffic recently, with patches of grass growing towards the middle of the trail, but the trees of the forest had yet to reclaim any space.
Which means it’s been maintained—or in the very least, used—over the last five-to-ten years.
My joy swelled. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d been hoping and praying to find other humans in this world. I told myself I’d be fine living a life of solitude if I didn’t end up crossing paths with humanity—my palpable, almost-physical relief at that moment told a different story.
As I looked both ways down the road, there was an important decision to make.
Which way do I go?
I looked at the creek for guidance, and seeing that it seemed to travel to the left of where I’d come, then ran adjacent to the road, my decision was made for me.
I couldn’t hold back a smile as I strode with renewed vigor down the road and along the creek.
As the sun set that night, I basked in the warmth of my campfire and the burn of physical exertion in my legs.
The anticipation of what was to come was an unstoppable force, despite my best efforts.
I knew there was a distinct possibility I wouldn’t find anyone at the end of this road; I didn’t know the past events that had occurred in this game-like world, and whatever had broken the System may have also had a grievous effect on human life.
Another possibility was that I did find humanity at the end of the road, but they were hostile. That trees were cleared to make a road spoke of at least some advancement within their society, but it still wasn’t impossible that I found myself on the pointy-end of a tribal warrior’s spear.
Still, the possibility of human interaction—the friendly kind, not the stabby-stabby kind—made my cheeks turn up into a broad smile, and I felt almost nervous at the idea of striking up conversation with strangers.
What do I say to them to seem like a regular person? Will they even speak English? I wonder what they’re like...
With these thoughts and countless others on my mind, I drifted off to sleep in a camp beside the road.
***
The sun wasn’t high enough to banish the cool air of the morning yet and was only just cresting the horizon when something beautiful grabbed my attention.
The road had climbed a hill, and as I reached the peak, I could see what had to be the ocean poking up over the distant treeline.
The shore was visible from my vantage point, and light-yellow sand arced out into dual headlands that formed a cove, at least a kilometer from end-to-end.
To the right, and outside of the protected cove, a broad river-mouth fed into the ocean. Further right, the land turned mountainous after another stretch of flat beach on the other side of the river.
Two things made my hopes soar.
First, the saltwater of the sea, the freshwater of the river, and the brackish water of the two mixing meant one thing: an abundance and variety of aquatic-life.
Second, and most important, there were dozens of houses built on the shore, some of which had smoke billowing from their stone chimneys. To the left of the buildings, farmland stretched as far as the eye could see, crops of different kinds sprawling over the area.
There were people!