He hunts, builds and gathers supplies for the coming winter. Practices reading and learning as much of the language he can from the damaged books he found. The nights are spent tossing and turning in restless sleep. Memories of the past haunt him nearly every night. Feeling like he is moving too slow but unable to move any faster. The primitive way he is surviving had made the desired progress near impossible. He feels trapped, stuck as a child, stuck surviving by himself.
Ripley has managed to rebuild some of the wall, shielding the fireplace from winds. He made an area to dry pelts and meats and herbs. Some of the books he found were medical, using them and his own knowledge he was able to gather herbs that could be used for medicines. He still lacked the language skill to talk to people and avoided them whenever they were in the woods. They would show up less and less. He had crafter his own traps that would scare them once sprung. Pit falls and ropes with carved river shells that made whistling sounds in the wind. Shattered bones and crude talismans that looked menacing hung on trees around the woods. It seemed to be working, people began avoiding the area. The hunters moved out as well, which meant they took their traps but Ripley had learned how to make his own by now.
One day he managed to shoot a deer. It was quite big and he struggled with gutting it. the body of a child was far too weak to drag the large stag, even with ropes. He had the make several trips to the tower and back, bringing the meat and skin and bones back. It would fee him for a long time once dried. But the distance was quite large and it had gotten dark after his fourth trip. Then he heard howling- wolves or something of that sort. He had never heard wolves here before but was certain he knew why they were here. The smell of blood must have lured them. He had a torch for light and a knife but fighting a pack of wolves would require more than that. He could see them around his kill, already starting to eat. Ripley shouted in hopes to scare them off. He had his bow but it required two hands to used and without a torch he couldn’t see in the dark. The beast’s growl at him, four he can see but there is probably a lot more than that. He moves closer, waiving the fire in front of himself. The wolf jumps back and growls again. The others snarl at him, fur all standing up, eyes glowing in the light of the fire. Ripley shouts again trying to scare them but they don’t want to abandon the deer. Then Ripley hears growling behind him. Three more wolves emerge. He is surrounded and outnumbered. This had been a mistake but he realized that too late. They growl at him and he knows that once they get a chance they will attack. He cannot act afraid, taking a step forward he grips the knife and makes a slashing motion at the wolf and shouts loudly at it. The wolves don’t move and the ones behind him begin to draw closer. Ripley knows he made a mistake but cannot see a way out of this.
He waves his torch right in front of the wolves and one move back. They don’t seem to be that scared of him which is bad because trying to scare them away is about all he can do. If the torch goes out he is as good as dead but fire is the most effective way to scare them. Once more he waves the torch and it nearly goes out this time but flares back to life. He turns around and yells at the ones that were behind him. This gives the other wolves to attack. One bites onto his arm holding the torch. The fur coat and the layers of clothes underneath prevent the teeth from sinking all the way but he still feels pain. Despite it Ripley holds on to the torch and turns around stabbing into the wolf with the knife. Somehow he manages to strike right in the neck and the beast does limp. The jaws unclench as the body falls to the snow. Ripley pulls his knife back out and grips it ready to strike again. The wolves back away, some whine. Now is his chance. He doesn’t run but slowly walks making sure not to turn his back on them. Once he has was a good distance away he turns and starts running.
Ripley is fairly certain something is following him. He wonders if the wolves have tracked the blood from his injured arm. Looking around he can’t see anything in the dark. It’s silent all around him. He knows wolves would make noise. A though crosses his mind- what if its demons? A pair of red gloving eyes appears in the dark and Ripley is terrified. As it moves closer to the light of the torch he sees the head of a horse emerge and on the horse an armored figure. He stares almost with disbelief.
“You seem alright” the Rider says.
“You’re here.” Ripley responds still surprised.” How did you find your way back?”
“There are ways. The desert is merely one of many ways to travel between worlds. I have set up a more permanent connection to this place- a bridge you could say.”
Ripley felt incredibly relieved to see the Rider.
“I will admit the ways of magic are unknown to me but I am glad you’re here. It’s been a long time since I’ve conversed with another intelligent being. I feel that I might lose my language skill if not go mad all together.” Saying it made him realize how truly alone he felt.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“You haven’t gone to the village?”
“After what happened last time I’m afraid it would end much the same. I feel that I lack the linguistic ability to adequately explain my situation. Besides there’s the mark on my back, once they see it I fear they won’t believe a word I say.”
“I was worried the demon’s got to you.” The Rider said.” When I found the symbol near it.”
He pulled Ripley up on the horse and it began to move towards the tower.
“I made those to off people who might come here.”
“Then you are fortunate. I have looked into the mark some more. It is a lot more dangerous than I have previously assumed.”
“I take it’s more than just a scar.”
“The demon that put this on you has marked you as its prey thus any other demon will sense you as such. “
“They’ll sense me?”
“Yes, demons can sense each other and those they have claimed. But this mark should allow you sense them too. “
The horse flew above the trees and reached the tower quickly.
“Then I might have even less time than I thought.” Ripley sighed.” I feel like I hit a dead end. There is only so much progress I can make without proper tools. It might take me entire lifetimes at this point to build what I need.”
“It seems to me that you have done quite well.” Rider looks at the half rebuilt wall of the lowest floor.
“This is the best I could do with what I had. I’m afraid I can’t really do much more. I lack the means to progress further and I don’t really know how to get what I need either.”
“What is it you need?”
“Better tools for a start. Or means to make them. Ores and a way to make the parts for the guns, a power source, gunpowder and a lot of other things. “
“You still haven’t given up on the idea of fighting Arayoch?”
He shakes his head.
“I cannot give it up.”
The dreams of the past haunted him, dreams so real he thought he would be home when he woke up. When he did wake up he was faced with the cold brick of the tower and a reminder that the world of his dreams was merely that- a dream. Everyone he ever loved and everyone who could love or care for him was nothing more than a memory now. The pain seemed endless, and as time went on instead of fading it only seemed to grow worse. He felt angry, so angry he could explode and sometimes he just felt sorrow. A sorrow so suffocating he couldn’t cry, he could barely remember how to breathe at times.
“ I admire that determination of yours. Now that I have created a fixed pathway to this place it will be easier for me to return. While I am out there if I come across the things you need I can bring them back. “
“You would do that?!” for the first time in a while he felt hopeful.” Then I shall make a list of what I need. I don’t even know if this word has some of the materials I need. “
He hurried to the tower and began to write on the paper he made. He used it sparingly since there wasn’t a way to make more. He’s attempts at making parchment out of deer skin were still not quite ready for writing. When finished he let it dry by the fire a little bit.
“I don’t suppose there is magic than can make me grow up faster.” He asked.
The Rider laughed.
“Most want to become younger not older.”
“This body is severely limiting. If the demons were to attack me, how am I to defend? “
“Do not worry about that. I will place some protection over this place. It should work well enough against both humans and demons. “
“Thank you. You have helped so many times. I wish I could return the favor.” Ripley sighed feeling helpless.
“There will be time for that later. Now let’s put those conversation skill of your to a real test.”
This was a rare chance to learn more of the language. Ripley had so many things he wanted to know. Some of it he had figure out by himself, and quite wrongly as he was soon proven. Seeing the letters written down in the slender handwriting of the Rider was incredible. He finally had the foundation of language.
“After a while you can pick up any language just from hearing it enough.” The Rider said. “This one is pretty old hasn’t change much. A dialect of the primal five. Any language that has come out of this one you should understand without problem once you master it.”
“I never was much of a linguist but I admit it I am hopeful about this.”
The Rider spoke in the language with ease and Ripley tried to follow asking whenever he heard a new word which was too often. He hurried to write it all down. And so the night passed and morning approached.
“I think it’s time for me to go.”
Ripley sighed, he was tired but at the same time happy. He wanted to learn and he wanted the companionship after having been alone for so long.
“I’m sorry; I’ve kept you from your affairs.”
He took the list and handed it to Rider.
“I hope you come across something from there.”
“ I imagine I shall.” He said looking it over.” Some things are common enough.”
“That’s good. I’ll look forward to your return.”
“It might be a while. Time in this world is slow; it might not seem like that long for you.”
“That’s a good thing right?”
“Yes, I suppose in your situation it is.”
He watches the Nightmare take to the sky as the dim winter sun begins to rise. A golden light hovers above Riders hand and it’s rays fall down on the tower and the land around it. It glows briefly than looks just like it did before. Ripley feels exhausted and heads to sleep. For the first time in a long time he dreams of hope.