《A Primeval Future》 Chapter 1: Welcome to Tercius
Congratulations! You''ve been selected to be one of 10 thousand earthlings to populate the world of [Tercius]! All items will be discarded. All ailments will be cured. Fitness will be raised to an acceptable threshold. Prepare for relocation. Welcome to your new world!
Derek looked dumbfounded at the text floating in his vision. Was there acid in his coffee or something? He''d never heard of hallucinations like this outside of fantasy novels of questionable quality... The moment he had this thought, there was a flash and the familiar gloom of his bedroom was replaced by the haunting beauty of the infinite cosmos. Derek found himself looking out at the void of space. Stars twinkling brilliantly in the distance while an earthlike planet lay below his feet. Deep blue waters and brilliant green continents mottled its surface. Derek would''ve thought it was the earth had it not been for the fact that he recognized none of the continents, nor did he recognize the two moons he noticed peeking out around the side of this planet. Yes two, for whatever reason this was the detail that drew his attention the most. They seemed to either be smaller or farther away than the moon he was used to. They were the familiar silvery grey of the earth''s moon however which Derek thought was somewhat strange, perhaps they were part of the same larger object that was split in two at some point. Soon the realization that he was not in any sort of spaceship but floating unprotected in the void, finally struck him. He panicked for a moment before realizing that he was breathing fine and that he didn''t feel so much as a slight chill. For him to be completely unharmed and comfortable while floating in literal outer space was some magic fuckery of the highest order. Especially considering he was buck-ass nude. As he was wondering why exactly he was floating naked in outer space, the floating text returned.
Welcome [Derek Law] to [Tercius], your new home! [Tercius] is an Untamed world, meaning that there is no sapient life on the planet. Until now! You are among the 10,000 [Humans] from [Earth] who have been chosen to be amongst the first sapients to populate this new world! To maintain a relatively equal starting point for all the sapients arriving on [Tercius] all possessions have been removed, all ailments healed and fitness for all participants has been brought up to the minimum baseline for survival in this new world. Starting equipment is available to purchase using a points buy system. All participants are given a base of 10 points with bonuses or negatives applied depending on the starting biome selected. This function will not be available after arrival. Participants have 1 hour to select their starting biome and equipment. Choose wisely and good luck! *Notice: failure to make a selection within this timeframe will result in a biome being selected at random.*
The first thing Derek noticed after reading this was that he felt good. Better than he had in years, the pain in his wrist from his carpal tunnel was gone, the constant discomfort from his irritable bowel was too. He took a deep breath and noticed the increased capacity and ease with which he did so, he no longer felt like a frail old chain smoker. Derek used to be relatively fit, he was a primitive and ancient technology/survival buff. For a few years during and after high school he''d spent all the time he could out in the woods, practicing starting friction fires and making tools from the stone and wood he found around him. But once he was out of high school and in the ¡°real world¡± of 21st-century adults all the drive and passion he once had died with a whimper. The grindstone of civilization had worn him down to nothing leaving him depressed and sedentary. As the depression took hold the job he''d sold years of his life to, decided to let him go. Depressed, broke, and sedentary Derek wasted away in self-imposed isolation for nearly four years. There was even a point that his doctor had had him apply for disability benefits because it was so bad that getting another job had become an impossibility. And so more than 3 years of an extremely sedentary lifestyle, poor diet, and stress had taken a heavy toll on his body. No longer though. With his physical ailments healed and fitness returned Derek felt reinvigorated like he hadn''t been in years. The ease with which he could now move and breath made him realize just how far he had fallen and that scared him. If what the floating text had said was true he was about to be thrown into a wild, unfamiliar planet possibly with other people and ¡°sapients¡±, whatever that means. And yet what scared him the most wasn''t the hostile environment ahead of him but the thought of returning to where he once was. He turned his attention to the floating text, now a list of options. He refused to stay as he had been for the last few years. It was time to put his old skills to the test.
AVAILABLE BIOMES Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.+3 Desert Tundra Savana +2 Island, Tropical Rainforest, Wetland +1 Taiga, Boreal Forest, Mountain Valley +0 Temperate Forest, Archipelago -2 Mediterranean -3 River Valley AVAILABLE ITEMS 5pt Simple Clothing, Metal Axe 4pt Basic Seed Set (Hemp, Barley, Potato, 1 lb ea.), Metal Knife 3pt Metal Pot 2pt Clay Pot 1pt Clay Bottle 750ml, Cordage 4m/pt, Hemp fabric 1.5m x 1m/pt [Time remaining: 53:26 minutes]
Nearly seven minutes had passed since Derek had found himself floating in space. He winced at the time wasted but quickly focused on the topic at hand. What he chose now would likely decide his survival in the coming days. If he chose a biome that he was underequipped to survive it would spell the end for him, If he chose a biome that cost him points he may find himself lacking something vital. He would need to think this through. Ultimately Derek decided that he would choose a 0pt biome. River valley sounded like a solid place to start anew, most of the earth''s great civilizations were focused on river valleys, and for good reason. The fertile soil, fresh water, fish, and river transportation were ideal for a fledgling civ. But the point cost meant that he would be going in with a disadvantage, while primitive, Derek understood fully how crucial the items he chose would be to his survival in the coming days. Having a good location doesn''t mean anything if he dies of exposure or dysentery because he lacked a crucial piece of kit. Most of Derek''s experience had been in temperate forests so he decided to pick what he was familiar with, hopefully, he wouldn''t end up too far over his head. Knowing that exposure and thirst would likely be his biggest concerns, he initially thought to choose the simple clothing, metal knife, and clay bottle but thought better of it. The clothing felt like a trap, he didn''t know how much coverage it would give or whether it would have pockets or shoes. It lacked versatility and had too many unknowns. the knife was the same way, it didn''t specify what kind of metal it was, how big it was, or how well made it was. It also didn''t say whether it came with a sheath or a belt for said sheath. The more he thought about it the more he felt he was right. This was a trap. After looking through his options again he decided he would pick the more reliable options. Ultimately he chose 4x1.5 m of hemp fabric, the clay pot, and the basic seed set. At first, it may seem foolish to forgo a cutting tool but Derek had plenty of practice with improvised and stone tools, he would make his own with what he found when he got there. As for the clay pot, he needed a way to purify and store water. He could have chosen the bottle but a pot would be more versatile and likely hold more volume. Finally, there were the seeds. They may seem like a waste as they would provide little to no benefit short term but Derek wouldn''t be out there for just the short term. There was no one coming to save him if things got bad. No search and rescue, no civilization, no guarantee of food, no medicine, nothing. These seeds would be crucial for his long-term survival, both the food from the barley and potatoes as well as the textiles, cordage, and medicine from the hemp. Most people don''t appreciate just how crucial hemp was for our ancestors. It was a pillar of any settlement, from a tiny hamlet to a thriving metropolis. Its fibers were perfect for sail, rigging, and tarps. Its flowers and oil were powerful anti-inflammatories that were used to treat all manner of sickness and injury. Its seeds could even be eaten. These hemp seeds would be crucial in the future. Especially if he wasn''t alone. A thought which was equal parts comforting and disconcerting. Humans were social creatures, it was how we survived and thrived when other stronger species died out. However, people also meant conflict and tribalism, especially since it seemed as if humans wouldn''t be the only sapients brought to this world. People would be his best chance at survival and new life, but they were also his biggest cause for worry. Derek was brought out of his thoughts when the text flashed to the center of his vision again.
[Warning! Time remaining: 9:58 minutes]
He could think about social interaction later, for now, he needed to hurry and prepare himself mentally and confirm his selection. He didn''t have time for doubts, now it was time for action. Feeling a nervous excitement build in his belly Derek confirmed his choices of gear and biome. The text in front of him faded away leaving him with a clear view of his new world, a foreign planet, devoid of the ever-present signs of humanity''s touch that he was so familiar with. A wild world full of danger and freedom. Derek was excited, something primal inside of him was awakening after a long slumber, a thirst for adventure and challenge. A deep craving for the simple life of the primeval man. A craving he had tried and failed to quench back on earth. He hoped that this new world could sate him. He had starved his soul for long enough, the spark of passion fading away. Finally, he would feed that spark. Chapter 2: Another Happy Landing. Excitement turned to terror as he started to fall. Derek had been expecting another teleport like that which brought him here, not to become a human meteor! Screaming into the void, Derek plummeted towards the great green expanse below. He didn''t know how long it was but he eventually calmed himself down enough to think. He wouldn''t have been brought over just to become fertilizer the moment he hit the ground he thought. The notice had said they would populate this planet, not become meat paste during their first half second planetside. While logically he understood he probably wasn''t going to die he couldn''t help but continuously think about what he''d look like as a human pancake. If everything before this was an elaborate ruse to hide the butcher''s blade then Derek would be well and truly fucked. And there was nothing he could do about it. Derek closed his eyes and started to pray to whatever gods would listen that this wasn''t some sort of sick trap. He begged them that when he opened his eyes he''d find himself safe and sound on the forest floor. After a bit, he took a quick peek and realized he was about half a second from slamming into the treetops. He screamed again, wide-eyed and terrified as he punched into the tops of the trees... And phased right through them. Shocked by the fact he hadn''t been pulverized or impaled by the sea of green he barely registered that he''s already landed on the ground, completely unharmed. It took a moment for the realization that he was fine to sink in. A wave of relief washed over him quickly swallowed by the tide of rage. What kind asshole teleports people across the cosmos just to drop them from the god damn stratosphere! A stream of curses rang out through the forest, the first words to ever be spoken on the world of Tercius were the obscene raving of a naked man cursing god. The sound of a branch snapping behind him made him stop in his tracks. Suddenly very aware that he was currently naked and alone in the wilderness of an unknown world. Slowly turning around to face the sound Derek slowly backed away, desperately hoping that whatever made the sound wasn''t about to turn him into its next meal. If he survived this he promised himself that a weapon would be his first priority. After about a minute-long standoff with the unseen threat, Derek decided that whatever it was either had no intention of showing itself or had slunk away. Still facing where the sound had come from he took stock of his surroundings. A dense sea of shrubs shaded by a scattering of trees surrounded him. The bushes reminded of salal but the leaves were shaped more like oak leaves and seemed soft. Lying a few feet away were the items Derek had chosen before his descent. A thick brown fabric that looked scratchy but relatively warm, a primitive-looking clay pot, and the sacks made from a lighter weave of the same brown cloth as before. Derek was quite pleased with his choice of gear, especially that the seeds had each come in their own bags. Each bag only seemed about half full which meant that not only did Derek have seeds for planting but three containers he could store stuff with. Partially unfolding his bolt of fabric he quickly wrapped his gear in it before rolling it up like a bedroll. He would need something to use as a belt if he wanted to wear the great cloth like he wanted but for now, he needed to move. He still didn''t know what had caused that sound earlier and Derek didn''t want to chance it not being a predator. Bundle in hand, Derek pushed his way through the bushes back and to the right of the sound. He didn''t want to turn his back completely but wanted to get away from here as quickly as possible. He was right when he thought that the bushes looked soft, the leaves were soft against his bare skin, the same couldn''t be said for the branches though. Surprisingly brittle and sharp the branches poked and scratched him as he pushed his way through. ¡°At least it isn''t stinging nettle.¡± He muttered as he pushed on, a scowl on his face. Luckily the bushed didn''t go on too long before they opened up into an area with more dense tree cover. The forest before him was a bizarre mix of familiar and foreign. He recognized the thin shoots of hazel as well as silver birch but he also found trees he''d never seen before. A many-branched tree with bark similar to cedar or juniper but with bright purple leaves, a tall zig-zagging tree with thorns at each corner, and willow-like branches. There were a few more that looked pretty normal but just the whole thing was just weird. He hadn''t expected there to be familiar plants, this was an entirely different planet from Earth after all. Had plants from earth been seeded here before their arrival? That seemed the most likely but raised a whole bunch of questions that Derek didn''t want to think about right now. For now, he would just be grateful that he wouldn''t be going in completely blind. Making his way over towards the hazel he assessed whether there were any ripe nuts for him. Hazel was a great plant to have around, the thin, flexible, stems were extremely versatile and the nuts were an excellent source of sustenance. Unfortunately, there were no nuts formed on this tree as it still had some of its flowers, and all the ones he could see on the ground were long rotted over the previous winter. It seemed They had been brought over during mid-spring, so long as something hadn''t messed with the flowering cycle of the hazel, which was a possibility, he''d experienced too much magical fuckery lately to rule it out. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Leaving the crop of hazel he walked further away from where he landed, he could hear birds chirping away now, he figured he must have scared them off with his earlier outburst. He grabbed some dry bark from the birch and the cedar/juniper-like tree which he dubbed junidar, as he passed. He didn''t know how hard it would be to find good tinder so he''d grab what he could when he could. If he was right about the season he was likely in for a cold night, if he could get a fire going it would make the night a lot less uncomfortable. Speaking of fire Derek decided it was about time he stopped screwing around and started focusing on the 3 needs of survival. Water, shelter, food. Seeing as the way he was going was slowly sloping downhill he figured continuing the way he had been was his best bet at finding water. He''d also keep an eye out for edibles and building materials along the way. An important skill he''d learned during his woodland ventures was to always be foraging along the way. Big-ticket food items were generally few and far between so eating whatever you could whenever you would be essential for maintaining energy levels and not starving. For almost an hour Derek wandered, careful to avoid any thorns and the like. Being barefoot and nude he had to pay extra attention to where he was stepping and what he was brushing up against. It seemed he had overestimated what "minimum acceptable fitness" meant,. He was far far better than he had been but was far from what he''d consider fit. Out of breath and exhausted Derek was elated when he finally heard what had been searching for. Running water. Forcing himself to pick up the pace he continued on downhill. Eventually, the woods opened up some and a large creek cut through the landscape. An exhausted Derek wanted to just stick his head into the water and drink his fill but the thought of what else could be in the water kept him in check. Malaria wasn''t exactly his idea of a good time. He was going to need to start a fire. He was going to make a bow-drill fire. Of all the friction fire methods this was the one he was most familiar with. Using a bow wrapped around a spindle he''d spin the spindle while pressing it down into a board with a notch carved in it to collect the dust and ember that would form as a result of the friction. However, if he wanted to make a bow drill he''d need several materials first, not to mention firewood. Across the creek there were more of the junidar trees scattered about, he''d try making a spindle and hearth board from that if he could find some dead standing wood. He''d also need something to split the board and carve the notches, not to mention some sort of cordage and a stiff, slightly bent stick for the bow. When he considered that he would need to harvest a fair bit of materials he decided carrying everything by hand was not going to be worth the effort. Why carry everything by hand when you could have pockets? He was tired of carrying around the big bundle of cloth but he''d need a belt if he wanted to wear it. Derek had chosen the fabric to use as the most versatile garment known to man. The great kilt. It was about time he started using his supplies as intended. The great thing about the great kilt was its many configurations. It could be worn like a cloak or anorak, It could be used as a blanket and tent, like a standard kilt or what Derek intended to use it, for now, deep-pocketed legwear. Looking around his immediate vicinity the best he saw were the roots from a bush he was unfamiliar with. It looked like an unassuming shrub, low to the ground and covered in pale green leaves, the roots reminded him of spruce roots as they sprawled out in pinky thick lengths just under the surface. He hesitated a moment finding a jagged rock and digging stick before he started digging some up. He was sick of wandering the woods nude and it would be getting cold soon, If these roots ended up being toxic then so be it. It didn''t take him long for him to get a couple of lengths he cut free with the rock so he could use them for the bow-drill and a belt, he was pleased with how strong and flexible the roots were. So long as he didn''t discover some problem in the next couple of hours he''d gather some more from another plant, good cordage was damn important in the woods. After fashioning a crude belt Derek laid out the fabric and started folding the pleats, lying down on the folds he wrapped himself up and fastened his belt around his waist. Standing up and making sure everything was held securely he tucked the ¡°tail¡± into the front resulting in two large pockets being made from the excess fabric. Looking like a homeless 1700s Scotsman and feeling incredibly pleased with himself He made his way across a shallow part of the creek and started looking for some dead standing wood for his bow-drill and to use as firewood. It didn''t take him long to find a tree with some dead branches that had dried out under the cover of the trees and would work well enough. Breaking them off and harvesting some more bark which he stuffed into his new pockets he set off to get more firewood. People always underestimate how much wood they need when they start their fire. Having to rush off to get firewood because you''ve underestimated how quickly what you have burned up is never fun and often leads to the fire you worked so hard for burning out before you get back. Unsure of how much daylight he had left Derek didn''t want to risk running out and starting over. He''d prepare as much as he could as fast as he could. Hopefully, he''d get a fire going before nightfall. Chapter 3 MK II: Making Tom Hanks Proud Derek found a fallen spruce tree a little way''s into the forest, it was still partially attached to the trunk making a bit of natural shelter. It also had a lot of dry dead branches on and around it. He decided it was where he was going to spend the night, it would be easy to tun into a proper shelter and made gathering an acceptable amount of firewood less of a hassle. He had to make sure that enough of the branches were removed and needles cleared so they wouldn''t be a fire hazard, this took some time without a cutting tool as some of the branches were relatively thick. Now he just had to get back and fill his pot and then he would start. The sky was covered by the canopy of trees making it hard to tell how much daylight he had to world with but his gut was telling him it wasn''t much. He would have to hurry. As he was making his way back to his spot near the river he started to notice that in the hour he''d been gone more and more little bugs had come out. Nothing stung him but the all too familiar mosquitoes were out in force. This further supported his feeling that time was running out. Deciding to camp away from the river had been a good call, the night would be miserable enough without thousands of the little winged leeches trying to eat him alive. He picked up his pace, trying to get his water and then get away from the bloodsuckers as quickly as he could. When at the river Derek quickly filled his pot with water then set about trying to find a sharp or jagged rock he could use to carve his hearth board as well as something to split it with. It''d didn''t take him long to find a wedge-shaped rock but it was a little too blunt to carve with. He tried to find the jagged rock he''d used to harvest the roots earlier, being swarmed by the annoying insects all the while, but couldn''t find it. Frustrated and a little scared he''d have to spend the night in the dark he grabbed a smooth roundish rock at his feet and threw it across the bank in frustration, It hit a larger rock on the far bank and broke into several sharp pieces. Shocked he rushed over to inspect the now broken stone. It had broken off a round razor-sharp flake a couple of inches across and a little less than a quarter-inch thick, a slight luster revealed by the break. It was Flint, Derek felt like a fool for not checking earlier. There hadn''t been any flint or chert where he was from and heed only ever knapped obsidian or glass, It hadn''t even crossed his mind that there might be actual flint nearby. he''d spent his time looking for any jaked stone he could use like a shitty rasp, completely forgetting to check for something that could make actual cutting implements. This had big implications for the long-term viability of the region, flint was too important a resource to pass up. Realizing the forest was slowly starting to darken he hurriedly grabbed a couple of sharp flakes and his pot and ran back to little camp. If It got too dark to see before he at least got the bow-drill set made he''d be fucked. Fire not only kept him warm but it also would hopefully keep predators at bay. Speaking of predators Derek realized he''d forgotten to make a weapon. A wooden spear would have only taken him about five to ten minutes to make, even without tools, now however that was five to ten minutes he could not afford. It would have to wait until after he had a fire. Derek split the hearth-board with the wedge stone and got to carving the notch and socket, he couldn''t cut corners here, 75% of friction fire-starting was the preparation, the rest was endurance and patience. He had a few small cuts on his fingers by the time he was done the hearth-board and started on the spindle. The bow would take the least time so he saved that for last. It was almost too dark to see by when he finished the bow-drill set so he wasted no time preparing his tinder and firewood, fluffing up the junidar bark and scraping some of the birch bark into dust. He''d use the birch to catch the ember before transferring it to the junidar bark and blowing it into a flame. Finally, with everything ready he started to spin the spindle, putting more and more pressure on it from the top using a random chunk of wood and spinning it faster and faster with the bow. Back and forth he worked the spindle as the dust started to pile up, forming in the notch he''d carved and heating up. Despite the dust forming Derek couldn''t smell any smoke, nor did he see an ember forming. After about five minutes straight of this, he realized he''d made another rookie mistake. In his rush, he''d only prepared one notch. If he burned through this one he''d have to carve another, this time in the dark. Eventually what he''d feared had come to pass as he felt the spindle punch through the bottom of the hearth-board. There was no ember. Normally he wouldn''t mind too much and would just carve another notch and try again, but this time he''d have to carve it in the dark, with a flint chip. Cutting himself was almost guaranteed. But what choice did he have, not only did he need fire to get safe drinking water, something his exhausted body was demanding loudly, but he''d recklessly worked up a sweat during trying to get the fire going. Sweat was bad in a survival situation, working up a sweat when it''s cold is a great way to get hypothermia. At least he wasn''t wearing any cotton, that would''ve only amplified the effect. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Gritting his teeth he got to carving the second notch, he couldn''t afford to fail this time. If he didn''t get a fire going there was a real possibility of freezing to death, depending on how cold the night got, even with his new hemp kilt. Despite being extra careful he cut himself twice as he made the new notch and set it back up again. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally. The stress of the situation was wearing on him but at the same time, it focused him. He knew he could do one more attempt but he was too tired for a third, his arms simply wouldn''t listen to him by then. He started to turn the spindle once again, building up a new mound of dust on top of the old. He settled into a steady rhythm, focused entirely on the task at hand. Finally, after about a minute he smelled smoke. It was working, but he couldn''t stop now. Smoke meant an ember was near, not that it was here. Faster and faster he worked the spindle, furiously spinning it until finally he stopped and carefully put the bow away before gently lifting the board to reveal a small red ember glowing dimly in the night. A wave of relief washed over him and he collapsed onto his back, breathing heavily. He''d give it a moment to grow before he transferred it to his bundle of tinder, now that the ember was formed the was no need to rush. After taking a few moments to recover and let the little ember glow Derek carefully transferred it to the tinder bundle, slowly waving it back and forth to give it some air before he started to blow on it. Gently at first but more and more forcefully as the ember grew and smoke billowed from the bundle. After a few tense moments, the bundle burst into flames. As quickly and carefully as he could he set down the burning bundle and started feeding it progressively larger twigs until he had a proper little fire. Launching himself to his feet and letting out a whoop of victory Derek celebrated his achievement. Starting a friction fire was always satisfying, but starting one when your life was on the line was made him ecstatic. A second wind filled him with energy as he put some larger pieces on the fire, Building it up. As he started to come down from the stress and excitement the stinging pain of his cut-up fingers started to become more and more pronounced. Though the bleeding had mostly stopped he was still worried about infection. There wasn''t much he could do about it though, he hadn''t seen any plants he knew he could use and he didn''t even have soap to wash his hands with. The best he could do is rinse them off and try to keep them clean. With any luck, he''d find some pine sap in the morning that he could use to seal the cuts. Derek was sure that there must be something nearby he could use but he wasn''t about to start slathering his hands in random plant stuffs. First Re-Write: Ch 3 MK II Hey folks! I really wasn''t liking where I''d taken things with the end of chapter 3 and what I''d written for chapter 4. It was just too soon to be facing big angry predators and all the solutions felt a little too plot armourish, so I''ve decided to re-write the end of chapter 3, flushing it out to a better size in the process and taking things in a direction I''m much happier with. For those who don''t want to re-read the whole chapter, I''ll Include just the changed section here. Thanks for your patience while I learn this whole ~writing~ thing and I hope you like Chapter 3 MK II! Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Chapter 5: Rule #1. Dont be an idiot. Derek¡¯s second night had been less miserable than his first. He had woken up from the cold several times throughout the night as the fire died down and needed to be built back up again, but still got a few hours of sleep. The lack of proper sleep would soon become a problem. The few hours he¡¯d gotten would have done wonders for his energy levels if it hadn¡¯t been for his lack of food, and hopefully, he¡¯d be able to remedy that problem this morning as well. Once it was light enough to see by, Derek dragged himself out of bed and checked that there were still some hot embers left from his fire before heading out towards the creek. Pot in hand, he made his way to the creek to get some water and check the fish trap he¡¯d set up the previous night. After checking the trap, he was pleased to find it had caught a fish but was rather disappointed with the size of said fish. The fish was long as his hand from wrist to fingertip and trout-like, barely enough to call a snack. It was one fish more than he would¡¯ve if he hadn¡¯t taken the time to make the trap, so he could still consider the trap a success. He gutted the fish right there by the creek, tossing the fish and its heart into his pot and the guts into the trap. Breakfast would be fish and wild onion soup and with some luck, the new bait would attract something bigger, or at least more numerous. The excitement washed away any early morning grogginess, leaving Derek feeling energized and hopeful. While making his way back to camp, he gathered firewood with gusto, the prospect of some proper food making the chore far less bothersome. Once he deposited the firewood, he realized he¡¯d just grabbed the fish and had forgotten to get water, prompting him to run back to the river to fill the pot for his soup. Running, however, proved to be a mistake. As he jumped over a fallen log, he didn¡¯t notice the jagged bit of wood sticking up through the dirt on the other side. His right foot fell on it with all his weight, stabbing it into the sole of his foot and twisting his ankle, sending Derek sprawling on the forest floor. Pain assaulted him but was forgotten when the sound of shattering ceramics cut through the woods as his pot smashed against a nearby stone and broke. A pit of dread settled into Derek¡¯s stomach, and he scrambled over to the remains of his pot. The pot had broken into three parts, two smaller ones, and one larger piece. The larger one would still be usable, though more of an awkwardly shaped bowl than a pot now. Derek grabbed the broken pieces of his pot and the fish and tried to stand up, letting out a yelp before falling again as he put weight on his injured foot. Finally, noting the state of his foot, the dread that had just faded came back greater than ever. The sole of his foot was bloody from a jagged puncture. The sharp branch hadn¡¯t gone right through his foot, but it sure as hell tried. To make matters worse, his ankle was already swelling and throbbing, likely sprained. He realized now just how fucked he was. Derek was furious with himself for being so stupid and reckless, and for the first time since he arrived on Tercius, he was truly afraid. A dirty wound and sprained ankle could be a death sentence out here. He had nothing to clean the wound with, no clean bandages, no splint for his ankle, and no antibiotics. If his foot got infected, there was nothing he could do about it. On top of this, he¡¯d to be constantly on the move searching for food and gathering firewood without being able to walk and having no one to help how was he going to keep himself fed, hydrated, warm? A sense of hopelessness washed over him, and he collapsed onto his back, his blank stare falling upon the canopy. Why had he been so stupid? He knew better to go running through the woods barefoot. Even if he hadn¡¯t hurt himself, it would¡¯ve been a reckless waste of energy. Had he really become so out of touch with the absolute basics of not dying in the woods that he started acting like a fool? Was he just too excited to be out of that soul-crushing prison he¡¯d called home, or was he just a fucking idiot?The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Derek wasn¡¯t sure how long he spent lying there, trapped within those thoughts. Roling onto all fours, he picked up the pieces of his pot and the fish that had inspired this morning¡¯s stupidity, and crawled towards the creek on all fours. He couldn¡¯t afford to sit there and wallow in his misery. He needed water and food. There was little he could do if an infection killed him, but he could at least prevent thirst or hunger from killing him first. The crawl was slow, uncomfortable, and humiliating. Derek spent the entire time chastising himself for his recklessness, despite knowing it did him little good. Eventually, he reached the river and filled his broken pot. Considered whether he should wash his foot in the water, he stared at his reflection in the water. The water was undoubtedly filled with infection-causing nastiness, but his foot was filthy already. So how much did it matter? In the end, it was his swollen ankle that tipped the balance. Infection was likely no matter which he chose, but the cold water would ease the swelling of his sprain, ease the pain. Derek spent the next few minutes washing his foot in the river and soaking his sprained ankle. Once he felt he¡¯d soaked long enough, he set about crawling back to camp, this time keeping an eye out for anything he could use as a crutch or walking stick. About halfway, Derek found a long Y-shaped stick, so he took the time to cut it to length with a shard from his pot, making it into a very basic crutch. He thought it would be enough to hobble along but quickly found it inadequate, the sprain and puncture meant he couldn¡¯t put any weight on his injured foot at all, he¡¯d need two crutches but then he wouldn¡¯t be able to carry the water. Resigning himself to his fate, he crawled the rest of the way to his camp, pleasantly surprised to find some embers were still burning from his fire. Unfortunately, he was out of firewood. With a sigh, he went crawling about, gathering what firewood he could find. He took the time to get the fire going again after his first load, then went back out for more. Everything was taking far longer than it should have, thanks to his hobbled mobility. Eventually, though, he had his water boiling and an onion stuffed fish roasting on the coals. Finally able to wet his parched throat and fill his empty belly, Derek¡¯s mood improved. It was still grim, but not nearly as bad as before. However, he needed to make another trip to the creek; more water was needed. He needed to bandage his foot, and that meant he had to sacrifice and sterilize part of his kilt. This meant he needed water to boil the cloth and clean the wound. The river water had washed away the worst of the mud and blood, but sterilized water would hopefully reduce the chances of it getting infected. Derek set out once again to the creek, crawling on hands and knees, gritting his teeth through the jabs of pain from his ankle every time he bumped it against something. He made it to the creek and back; the forest darkening along with his mood as he arrived back at camp with the water. An entire day wasted because of a stupid mistake. Derek¡¯s mood became even sourer when he found his fire had burnt out entirely this time, resulting in him having to spend the last light of the day getting it going again. He spent the rest of the evening tending to his wound before settling into sleep. It had been a shitty day, and he expected the next to be just as miserable. Unfortunately, he was right. Derek spent the next morning fashioning some basic crutches so he could go out to check his fish trap. When he got there, he found it was empty and decided to test another spot. Derek tied the trap to his belt and set off downstream, setting up the trap at the edge of a pool closer to his camp. As he got up to head back, one of his crutches slipped out from under him, sending him tumbling onto the stony bank, resulting in some painful bruises and a worsened ankle. However, this wouldn¡¯t be his only fall. Twice he fell while gathering firewood and once again at camp, narrowly avoiding the fire. He went to bed hungry and bruised that night, feeling more impotent and frustrated than he had in years. Chapter 5: Rule #1. Dont be an idiot. Derek¡¯s second night had been less miserable than his first. He had woken up from the cold several times throughout the night as the fire died down and needed to be built back up again, but still got a few hours of sleep. The lack of proper sleep would soon become a problem. The few hours he¡¯d gotten would have done wonders for his energy levels if it hadn¡¯t been for his lack of food, and hopefully, he¡¯d be able to remedy that problem this morning as well. Once it was light enough to see by, Derek dragged himself out of bed and checked that there were still some hot embers left from his fire before heading out towards the creek. Pot in hand, he made his way to the creek to get some water and check the fish trap he¡¯d set up the previous night. After checking the trap, he was pleased to find it had caught a fish but was rather disappointed with the size of said fish. The fish was long as his hand from wrist to fingertip and trout-like, barely enough to call a snack. It was one fish more than he would¡¯ve if he hadn¡¯t taken the time to make the trap, so he could still consider the trap a success. He gutted the fish right there by the creek, tossing the fish and its heart into his pot and the guts into the trap. Breakfast would be fish and wild onion soup and with some luck, the new bait would attract something bigger, or at least more numerous. The excitement washed away any early morning grogginess, leaving Derek feeling energized and hopeful. While making his way back to camp, he gathered firewood with gusto, the prospect of some proper food making the chore far less bothersome. Once he deposited the firewood, he realized he¡¯d just grabbed the fish and had forgotten to get water, prompting him to run back to the river to fill the pot for his soup. Running, however, proved to be a mistake. As he jumped over a fallen log, he didn¡¯t notice the jagged bit of wood sticking up through the dirt on the other side. His right foot fell on it with all his weight, stabbing it into the sole of his foot and twisting his ankle, sending Derek sprawling on the forest floor. Pain assaulted him but was forgotten when the sound of shattering ceramics cut through the woods as his pot smashed against a nearby stone and broke. A pit of dread settled into Derek¡¯s stomach, and he scrambled over to the remains of his pot. The pot had broken into three parts, two smaller ones, and one larger piece. The larger one would still be usable, though more of an awkwardly shaped bowl than a pot now. Derek grabbed the broken pieces of his pot and the fish and tried to stand up, letting out a yelp before falling again as he put weight on his injured foot. Finally, noting the state of his foot, the dread that had just faded came back greater than ever. The sole of his foot was bloody from a jagged puncture. The sharp branch hadn¡¯t gone right through his foot, but it sure as hell tried. To make matters worse, his ankle was already swelling and throbbing, likely sprained. He realized now just how fucked he was. Derek was furious with himself for being so stupid and reckless, and for the first time since he arrived on Tercius, he was truly afraid. A dirty wound and sprained ankle could be a death sentence out here. He had nothing to clean the wound with, no clean bandages, no splint for his ankle, and no antibiotics. If his foot got infected, there was nothing he could do about it. On top of this, he¡¯d to be constantly on the move searching for food and gathering firewood without being able to walk and having no one to help how was he going to keep himself fed, hydrated, warm? A sense of hopelessness washed over him, and he collapsed onto his back, his blank stare falling upon the canopy. Why had he been so stupid? He knew better to go running through the woods barefoot. Even if he hadn¡¯t hurt himself, it would¡¯ve been a reckless waste of energy. Had he really become so out of touch with the absolute basics of not dying in the woods that he started acting like a fool? Was he just too excited to be out of that soul-crushing prison he¡¯d called home, or was he just a fucking idiot?If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Derek wasn¡¯t sure how long he spent lying there, trapped within those thoughts. Roling onto all fours, he picked up the pieces of his pot and the fish that had inspired this morning¡¯s stupidity, and crawled towards the creek on all fours. He couldn¡¯t afford to sit there and wallow in his misery. He needed water and food. There was little he could do if an infection killed him, but he could at least prevent thirst or hunger from killing him first. The crawl was slow, uncomfortable, and humiliating. Derek spent the entire time chastising himself for his recklessness, despite knowing it did him little good. Eventually, he reached the river and filled his broken pot. Considered whether he should wash his foot in the water, he stared at his reflection in the water. The water was undoubtedly filled with infection-causing nastiness, but his foot was filthy already. So how much did it matter? In the end, it was his swollen ankle that tipped the balance. Infection was likely no matter which he chose, but the cold water would ease the swelling of his sprain, ease the pain. Derek spent the next few minutes washing his foot in the river and soaking his sprained ankle. Once he felt he¡¯d soaked long enough, he set about crawling back to camp, this time keeping an eye out for anything he could use as a crutch or walking stick. About halfway, Derek found a long Y-shaped stick, so he took the time to cut it to length with a shard from his pot, making it into a very basic crutch. He thought it would be enough to hobble along but quickly found it inadequate, the sprain and puncture meant he couldn¡¯t put any weight on his injured foot at all, he¡¯d need two crutches but then he wouldn¡¯t be able to carry the water. Resigning himself to his fate, he crawled the rest of the way to his camp, pleasantly surprised to find some embers were still burning from his fire. Unfortunately, he was out of firewood. With a sigh, he went crawling about, gathering what firewood he could find. He took the time to get the fire going again after his first load, then went back out for more. Everything was taking far longer than it should have, thanks to his hobbled mobility. Eventually, though, he had his water boiling and an onion stuffed fish roasting on the coals. Finally able to wet his parched throat and fill his empty belly, Derek¡¯s mood improved. It was still grim, but not nearly as bad as before. However, he needed to make another trip to the creek; more water was needed. He needed to bandage his foot, and that meant he had to sacrifice and sterilize part of his kilt. This meant he needed water to boil the cloth and clean the wound. The river water had washed away the worst of the mud and blood, but sterilized water would hopefully reduce the chances of it getting infected. Derek set out once again to the creek, crawling on hands and knees, gritting his teeth through the jabs of pain from his ankle every time he bumped it against something. He made it to the creek and back; the forest darkening along with his mood as he arrived back at camp with the water. An entire day wasted because of a stupid mistake. Derek¡¯s mood became even sourer when he found his fire had burnt out entirely this time, resulting in him having to spend the last light of the day getting it going again. He spent the rest of the evening tending to his wound before settling into sleep. It had been a shitty day, and he expected the next to be just as miserable. Unfortunately, he was right. Derek spent the next morning fashioning some basic crutches so he could go out to check his fish trap. When he got there, he found it was empty and decided to test another spot. Derek tied the trap to his belt and set off downstream, setting up the trap at the edge of a pool closer to his camp. As he got up to head back, one of his crutches slipped out from under him, sending him tumbling onto the stony bank, resulting in some painful bruises and a worsened ankle. However, this wouldn¡¯t be his only fall. Twice he fell while gathering firewood and once again at camp, narrowly avoiding the fire. He went to bed hungry and bruised that night, feeling more impotent and frustrated than he had in years.