I observed the tundra hillside ahead of me while fighting the urge to light up. There was no denying it - I finally caught a lucky break. Several in fact, and they were related.

It seemed impossible but some wildlife had actually survived this long. Mere moments ago a fat, hairy pig, boar maybe, strolled casually towards the west. The walking chunk of bacon wandered across the droll landscape, only an occasional clump of vegetation broke up the monotony. Most of it looked earthlike, but for one exception.

The boary bastard had gone and done goofed itself by taking a step on the circular, thin, black vine pattern which surrounded another zero-mobility type Errant. It had no other notable features than a similarly black bundle of flora in the center of the ‘trap’. At a distance, it looked like the centerpiece consisted of overlapping leaves that the flowery crown broke out of but I had no interest in taking a closer look. The overgrown piglet stepped on the lattice and caused the vines to snap loudly and close like a bear trap, which sent a spray of blood in the air from the lashed boar, but didn’t quite snatch it. My lunch and dinner combo set off at a limping run further towards the west while avoiding any further vinesnap-traps.

And me.

I jogged lightly behind, in no rush to catch bacon boy. The blood it left behind made for an easy trail, its wounds allowed even my diminished constitution to run it down, if only thanks to the Systems reinforcement... and the fact I’d nearly quit smoking, however unwillingly. Before too long, the animal just collapsed. The river, much becalmed, flowed in the distance – maybe half an hours walk away. Piggy still lived, until I stabbed it in the face, cut off its head to let the blood drain, and painstakingly dragged the corpse by its leg over to the overgrown stream. The rolling hills obscured my sight, but the idea of a proper meal left me well beyond caring.

I had everything I needed: A dead animal, water, a small copse of trees, plenty of bamboo relatively nearby and no goddamn Errant in sight. A perfect campsite, and I intended to make use of it. The rest of the day passed uneventfully, marked by rest, using my portable forge as a stew bowl and engaging in shameless gluttony. Even the iron tinged smell and viscera of butchery couldn’t dissuade what felt like a bottomless emptiness in my stomach. Carrying dry kindling had been a good idea when combined with my sword for chopping wood. I packaged some extremely overcooked boar meat in McD wrappers, the rations probably wouldn’t last more than a day or two but it was enough.

Dusk approached and the darkness drew my eyes towards the southeast, across the rolling plains, towards the gently curving hillside and the steep eastern mountain slope. My salvation shined through the descending dark, nestled between a pine forest and a plain of rough, jagged terrain. There stood a spot of high ground, with a big, steady contained blaze and a thin, stretched plume of barely visible smoke reaching high like a beacon. Although the size was only an assumption – it looked like a distant flicker from here.

Cautious hope blossomed amongst the pops and crackles of my own smoldering flame. I might actually find other people in this godforsaken wasteland. As night fell, the glow of the flames became increasingly clear and wary thoughts were dispelled. Fuck yeah, victory… Soon.

I refused to brave the treacherous footing here without daylight to cover me, a leg injury this close to possible salvation would cause unbearable levels of frustration and suffering. Unwilling to take any risks, I passed the night with about ten hours of pretending to be an artist, then had all I could for breakfast until daylight illuminated a safe path forward. Sleep eluded me on account of my budding excitement, even though I had no clue how far the walk would be. For once, my travels were accompanied by a spring in my step while the cool, earthy breeze carried my unwashed stench downwind.

I’d eaten my fill and more, twice, and gotten plenty hydrated. Muscle soreness had receded somewhat and most of my bruises were in a much better shape, even if my worst injuries persisted in a lessened state. My finger didn’t seem broken at least. Hopefully the happy campers wouldn’t move too far, perhaps they’d even stay in place. Regardless, there would be no breaks until I reached them. Depending on terrain and local threats, perhaps my final stretch would continue through the night. There would be time for exhaustion later…

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I was fucking exhausted.

Day made way for night again and I’d come so close, all enjoyment of sparse woodland frolicking now abandoned. Nothing could stop me, except two pauses for junk food and my remaining rations were consumed along with those. The Errant plant traps persisted even here and they were still hard to spot despite my supernatural vision, thus forcing an agonizing wait upon me.

But the fire hadn’t moved. Reckless obsession had left no room for good decisions. As such, I lacked a campfire of my own – otherwise they’d have spotted me by now. I patiently practiced my drawing skills instead. I was clearly on to something, despite doodling the same pattern over and over again on the same exact plate, the pulsing never stopped. The actual effect eluded me, besides a vague idea of hardening, and frankly I didn’t care. It probably just made stuff stronger.

Glorious dawn beckoned and gave me enough light to see by. Weariness made me stumble, shuffle and drag my feet through my chosen route, a snaking path to save myself the effort of cresting hills over and over. The flicker and glow of the static bonfire had burned itself onto my mind during the dark hours, much closer now, almost driving me to madness from the sheer teasing of it all – that was only fun for a little while. I hadn’t been keeping track of time, but it was probably somewhere near noon when I entered probable hearing range of the camp.

To announce myself, I shouted at the top of my lungs with every bit of energy I had left.

“Heeeey! I need help! S.O.S.”

Then the last of the drive which kept me going ran out, I collapsed to a sitting position while waving my swords in the air to mark my position - one whole, one cracked. A burn crept up my legs, unnoticed during my trudging. It was unreal, like electricity in my bones and skin. My soles were sticky and I didn’t want to think about the kind of blisters nurtured there.

I smelled, I hurt, I… everything bad. Eloquent.

Then I spotted some people running towards me and so let the swords drop and disappear, replaced by the waving of my right arm. My saviors crossed the distance rapidly.

Holy shit, I’m alive.

I was either saved or fucked, depending on their disposition. But it didn’t matter, anything would be better than wandering step by step towards inevitable, slow death.

Three men gathered around me, one kept watch while a bald, hook-nosed dude spoke. The third trailed behind and seemed content to stare.

“What’s wrong? Ya wounded?” He said.

“Sorry, I’m mostly fine, just tired. Been walking for too long, didn’t think before I yelled.”

“Well shit, why’d ya go out alone instead of with the next group? Now you’ll be wastin’ your time.”

“What? No, I’ve been wandering for weeks heading south, trying to find-”

Hook-nose interrupted me, “Weeks? You a survivor? Fuck, ain’t been one o’ those for a while now. Must’a had it rough. Let’s get ya into camp first.”

I didn’t disagree, even surrendered the last word while struggling to get up - it felt like my knee joints had been welded stuck. Oh right - introductions, “You have no idea, thanks. Name’s Gabriel.” I held out my hand.

He accepted the shake. “Barry. And trust me man, we all know.”

We didn’t talk much after that. Barry stood a head taller than me but the other two weren’t much bigger, they made for better leaning material while we slow-walked our way to the campsite. They guided me to the fire pit and the other two went back to work, their duties consisted of keeping a lookout as best as I could tell.

I sat on a log and forced down some warm tasteless slop, unable to satisfy my cravings for more of it. Normally it was a challenge to make me shut up but I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Barry sat nearby on a different log, enthusiastically grinding away with a pestle and mortar while staring at his handiwork. He’d started by putting in something, then dropped a fiver crystal and methodically turned it into dust. The process was eerily quiet and didn’t even overcome the crackling of the low fire.

Eventually I finished and felt my eyelids drooping.

I turned to Barry. “Hey, is there anywhere I can sleep? I’ve been up for two days straight and don’t want to collapse into the fire, but I will if I have to.”

He chuckled. “Sure man, ya can have my tent, I don’t need to sleep today anyway. It’s the one next to... Ah, I’ll show ya, easier than explainin’.”

We both got up and Barry led me to a rather minimalist, shoddy tent-like construction of wood and hide. I didn’t give a shit and the surroundings got an equal amount of appreciation. It was a roof over my head, and more than big enough for me. Barry left after excusing himself and I caught him mumbling something about a meeting. Busy people.

It wasn’t just my surroundings or the quality of housing that I didn’t care about. Everything went into the ‘problem for later’ category of my mind. Well, not entirely true, there was one thing. I summoned a sword and stashed it - couldn’t waste any mana regeneration.

I was safe. I made it. There were even people.

This moment should’ve led to a breakdown, but right before my consciousness descended into sweet, sweet oblivion, in that half-state between wakefulness and slumber, I realized something.

It had been a little exciting.

Blissful sleep whisked the realization away, now forgotten.