Ru Meng woke to the sound of rustling and something brushing against his leg. The air was cold but humid. There was an odd smell in the air. He fumbled around in the darkness for the light talisman. When he eventually found it, he raised it over his head and uttered, “Liang.” The talisman lit up and Ru Meng saw his father crawling on his elbows and knees, trying to make his way out of the crevice.
Ru Meng didn’t know what his father was trying to do, but he quickly hurried to his father’s side to help. He tried helping his father up, but his father shrugged violently when he put his hands on him. Ru Meng was taken aback. He stepped back and let his father do whatever he wanted. However, when it was clear his father had no means of safely getting down from the cliff and every intent to try anyway, Ru Meng immediately stepped in to interfere. His father grunted and struggled as Ru Meng tried to pull his arm over his own shoulder. Eventually, he gave up and Ru Meng lifted him up on his knees. Ru Meng knew where the smell had been coming from. There was a wet spot on his father’s groin.
Ru Meng slowly helped his father down the crevice, one rock at a time. He brought his father to the side of the creek, going as far downstream as they could, about fifty steps away from their shelter. Ru Meng wasn’t sure what to do, so he let his father down and let him clean himself up. The creek was very shallow, and only came up to his ankles. His father crawled into the water and sat there awkwardly. Ru Meng sat on a rock by the creek and waited. Several minutes later, Ru Meng helped drag him out of the creek and together they returned to the shelter. They had no change of clothes, so his father had to go back to sleep shivering in his drenched clothes. Neither of them got much sleep that day.
The back and forth persisted for the next few days; his father would start crawling out of the shelter and Ru Meng would stop him. His father would refuse his help violently, sometimes even hitting him in the struggle, until he finally relented. Ru Meng would then help his father to the creek, where his father would relieve himself and then clean up as best as he could. His father refused to take off his clothes, however, and soon, despite his best efforts to clean them, they started to smell. It was an unpleasant odor, stale and pungent and it made it uncomfortable to stay in the crevice. Ru Meng wanted his father to take off his clothes so he could wash them, but his father was adamant. Ru Meng had no choice but to endure the smell when they slept together.
Water was starting to become an issue as well. They had portioned out the drinking water as best as they could, but it had run out. Ru Meng still had not grasped the Spell of Metal-heating. He was getting close, but it would still take him a few days at least. They had no choice but to start taking water directly from the creek. His father had refused to drink the uncooked water initially, shaking his head in a mix of annoyance and disappointment. Ru Meng felt his cheeks turn hot when he saw the way his father looked at him; as if saying he was a failure for not being able to grasp such a simple spell after having practiced it for so long already. Thirst got the better of his father in the end and he reluctantly drank from the creek as well.
Ru Meng didn’t know what his father was thinking most of the time. His father was with him all the time now, but he could neither talk nor write. All of his communications came in the form of brief, fleeting glances of frustration. Ru Meng wasn’t sure if his father wanted to talk to him even if he could anyway. They spent a lot of their time in the same space— whenever Ru Meng wasn’t out scouting the nearby tunnels for any signs of danger— but his father refused to even look at him most of the time. He would rather stare at the walls or the ceilings or just simply close his eyes. Ru Meng knew this to be true because he never caught his father looking at him when he practiced his spells. He only ever caught Ru Meng’s attention when he needed something. Ru Meng didn’t like the way things were, but it was all he knew.
One day, his father seemed a lot less responsive than usual, even for him. Ru Meng crept up by his side and shook him by the shoulder, but his father only groaned in response, scrunching up his eyebrows as if in pain. Ru Meng laid a hand on his head and found it to be steaming hot. Ru Meng quickly soaked a piece of cloth in water from the creek and placed it over his father’s head. He tried to make things as comfortable as he could for his father and made sure he had ample water to drink. However, his father’s condition only continued to worsen. After the third day of waking up to find his father weaker than before, Ru Meng knew he had to do something.
His father needed medicine and he needed a way to start a fire. Ru Meng wasn’t sure why his father had caught a fever, but it was likely that drinking untreated water was the reason why. Even if it was not, he couldn’t keep letting a sick man drink uncooked water. Ru Meng rummaged through his mind, trying to come up with his options. Mind you, the young boy had hardly ever been outside his house for most of his life. Two places came to mind.
The first one was home. His father had a supply cabinet he used to keep most of his tools in and which he had warned Ru Meng sternly not to touch. These were things like traps and equipment which he brought along when he went hunting. It was likely that his father might have kept some medicine in there as well. Unfortunately, if there was anywhere that Ru Meng didn’t want to go to, it was home. He hadn’t felt anything when he launched the bear trap at his father’s assailant, but he knew he had probably injured him badly. Bad enough that he would want to get revenge. It didn’t help that thinking about home and that man-made him remember what happened to his uncle. Ru Meng still had nightmares, but they were getting better now. He was not the same person as before, he would tell himself and for a while, he could believe it. Nevertheless, going home was risky and Ru Meng wanted to avoid it if it was possible.
Stolen story; please report.
The second option, however, was even more dangerous. The market. His father had brought him there once, when he was a lot younger. He only had vague memories of the place, but what he could remember was how tense his father had been and how scared he was. It was not a kind place and certainly not to a child. He could almost certainly find what he wanted there at the market, but between the bandits, thieves and slavers, Ru Meng wasn’t sure if he could even make it back here in one piece. More importantly, Ru Meng didn’t even know the way to the market. His father went there often to sell his hunting spoils, but he hadn’t brought Ru Meng along in a long time.
Ru Meng had no choice. He had to go home. Fortunately, his left hand had recovered greatly. He could hold things with his left hand without too much pain now. Having made up his mind, Ru Meng strapped the carving knife on his back, put the skinning knife into the now empty sheath on his waist and slung an empty backpack over his back. He also took the marbles and an extra light talisman with him. The journey back home wasn’t a long one and he was careful not to bring too many things with him. He wanted to be light on his feet, just so he could run in case there was any danger.
With a plan in mind, Ru Meng slowly made his way home. He kept the light talisman stuffed under his shirt and looked around every corner before turning. He was careful not to leave any tracks behind either. Soon, twenty minutes later, Ru Meng found himself in the tunnel that would lead straight to their house. He put out the light talisman and slowly snuck his way closer to the end of the tunnel. He kept his ear pressed against the wall to listen for any signs of a person. There was the usual slight whooshing of an underground breeze, paired with the soft chitterings of the bats and insects that lurk in the darkness. His own breath.
When he was sure he couldn’t hear anything else, Ru Meng wrapped the light talisman over an iron marble and recited the Spell of Metalworking. He then left the marble on the ground, slowly backed away and turned the corner into another tunnel. it was only then that he said the trigger word to activate the light talisman again. A bright orb illuminated the tunnel and slowly hovered into the cave where the house was located. Ru Meng peered around the corner.
His house sat in a corner, somehow looking older and more disheveled than he ever remembered it being. The door was wide open and creaked on its hinges when the orb of light sailed by. A bear trap sat on the ground, a few steps away from the house, disarmed and broken. The hinges of the jaw had popped off, warped and bent beyond recognition by some tremendous force. Fragments of the trap’s springs laid here and there, little more than scrap metal now. The teeth of the trap had a dark red stain to them. A few pelts lay scattered on the ground, along with a few other items that had spilled out of his father’s bag on that day. The two copper coins he had fired at the enemy lay on the ground, one warped beyond recognition; the other stained dark with blood. A circle had been drawn into the earth around the trap, with numerous odd symbols and shapes arranged in a deliberate fashion within it. A trail of blood led off into another tunnel in the distance.
It seemed like Ru Meng’s victim had escaped and was already gone by now. Ru Meng took extra care and waited for ten more minutes before slipping out of the tunnel to investigate. He kept his hand on the handle of the skinning knife. He was prepared to flee at any moment. Ru Meng picked up the two copper coins and stashed them back where they belong: in the hidden seam sewed into his shirt. He then hurried over to the house’s door. He sent the orb of light inside and was immediately greeted by a series of squeaking noises. Several small dark shapes swarmed at his feet. Ru Meng hastily drew his knife and chopped at the enemy, but he hit nothing. The creatures scattered and vanished into the shadows before he could get a better look at them. Rats.
Ru Meng entered the house. Everything seemed to be in its usual place, though there was a little mess, like somebody had already rummaged through the house. It was weird, looking at this place that he had spent much of his life in; that he knew so well he could list every corner he had stubbed a toe on. It felt unfamiliar, like something from a time long past, even though it had only really been a few weeks since he was home. He saw the book he had been studying on the table, though some of its edges had been nibbled on by the rats. There were a few other things on the shelves right behind that— spare clothes, kitchen utensils, and a small stack of wood and charcoal. Ru Meng put all of these things away in his backpack, being particularly grateful for the clothes and the charcoal. He and his father badly needed to change; their clothes were starting to smell, even with how frequently he was washing them. Ru Meng left the bigger tools, like the wok and the kettle, behind. He might come back for them another time. He then searched the cabinet near the stove for any foodstuffs he could bring back with him. Ru Meng found a small bag of rice and a few wilted vegetables. Unfortunately, there was a hole in the rice bag and only a few dozen grains of rice left. The rats must have helped themselves to everything. Nevertheless, Ru Meng swept up the small handful that was left and put it away.
Scouring his house and taking everything useful like this was strange; he felt like a stranger in someone else’s home, like this place no longer belonged to him. There was a wild, scary sense of freedom and adventure to this sensation. Once again, Ru Meng found himself enjoying something that he really shouldn’t be enjoying. He suppressed the stupid glee he was feeling at ransacking his own home and put his mind back to the task.
After searching through everything and taking everything that he could, Ru Meng settled in front of the locked cabinet, right across the bed where they slept. It was a small cabinet, only coming up to Ru Meng’s waist. A large, old-looking padlock hung on the cabinet doors. Ru Meng had forgotten about the lock. He hadn’t seen the key anywhere amongst his father’s possessions either, which means it must have gotten lost somewhere during all the scuffle and chaos. Fortunately, the lock was already broken. Ru Meng pulled and the padlock came apart in his hands. Someone had already searched through the house; probably that man from before. Hopefully, whatever Ru Meng needed was still in there.
With that in mind, Ru Meng swung the cabinet doors open.