Waking up early, Urist rose with a stretch. He saw that everyone except those on guard duty were asleep. With the sun out now, he guessed it was eight in the morning, a good time to start the day.
It hadn’t been that unpleasant of sleep since they had flattened the ground and covered it with leaves for bedding. Even though it hadn’t been too terrible, Urist still missed his comfy bed dearly.
Chasing the useless memories away, Urist slapped his cheeks and cracked his neck for work needed to be done. He stretched, then shook the lazy dwarfs awake. After all, they had work to do. Before handing out jobs, they needed to eat. Forming a circle outside the cave the hungry dwarfs dug into the prepared meals.
“I've thought about what to do today,” he started, breaking the silence. “We’ll be working in teams. Our most important objectives are to make rope, a proper door for the cave entrance, some fish traps out of bamboo and water bottles, and to get a fire going.
“The groups’ work will be split. Uria and I will try to make a fire as one group. Rork and Rat will help the bamboo and rope making teams. Bamboo team while you wait to make the cave door make some bamboo water bottles and traps.”
“As for the Medicine group, I want you to keep studying after searching the surrounding area. Try to collect some medicinal plants if you can find some. It would also be nice if you can keep an eye out for edible food, but don’t go too far.” he advised them while finally wrapping up his series of commands. “Does everybody understand?”
“Sounds good, boss.”
“Yup.”
“Let's make a door. It was getting a little windy here anyways.”
Urist replied with a smile, “Then let's get to work.”
Desperation
“Why won’t this fucking coal start?” Urist cried out in his thick, Scottish accent. Frustration evident as he started pulling on his hair. Uria patted his back, trying to comfort him. Judging by the position of the sun, they had been trying to get a lump of coal going for three hours, but all they had to show for their efforts were sore hands and a few wisps of smoke.
It seemed that the log Urist chose wasn’t dry enough to make a fire. It was either that, or he was just terrible at making one. The method was simple rub a stick on another stick to create fire simple right? It seemed easy. Pathetically easy, when described, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t do it.
Urist was fed up to the point that he went over and snatched some rope from the rope making team to make a bow drill. They needed this fire to start purifying water; heavens know what diseases lurked in the river. No doubt boiled water that had been filtered water was the way to go.
Finding a curved stick Urist strung its ends, then looped a straight stick in the rope. He used a flat stone with a small indent in the center to push it the top of the stick down to apply extra force. With this, everything was prepared. Beads of sweat trickled down his face at the thought of failure to start a fire.
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He didn’t even want to look Uria in the eye for fear of what he’d see. So keeping his voice calm he said to the girl standing next to him, “This should work now. Be ready on the other side to switch with me.”
Moving into position Uria nodded her head in approval. “Un!”
“Let’s do this.”
Urist gave a battle cry, pushing the curved stick back and forth anew. He was able to move the stick twice as fast as he had by hand. With this much effort, even the stubborn firestick started to show signs of smoke.
Back and forth, back and forth, the curved stick went. More smoke kept coming. This time a lump of coal would appear for sure. His arms felt like noodles, but Urist kept moving his arms gritting his teeth until he yelled, “Now, switch.”
Uria swapped drilling duties with Urist quickly and efficiently. She managed to catch up to his previous pace under a few seconds. Seeing how close they were to starting a fire, he gathered the tinder and wood shavings and readied himself for the coal to appear.
Eyes narrowing, he saw a bright red light appear under the dry leaf. Urist’s thoughts thundered, ‘The cherry. It’s here.’
“Uria remove the drill.”
At his command, Uria lifted the fire stick and the drill away leaving the cherry exposed. He didn't waste a moment as he put the tinder on top.
‘This is it.’
He thought momentarily about his boy scout leader as he crouched down to stoke the ember. In his thoughts, he heard leader mocking him that he would never make a friction fire, that he would never be able to swim, that he was the worst boy scout in existence.
He would show him that he was wrong. He would survive.
Steadily and slowly, Urist breathed into the fire, hyper-focused on not screwing up. He couldn’t fail now, not after coming so close.
Breathe, Urist. Breathe like it’s life or death.
Seconds felt like hours as Urist kept breathing into the tinder in his hand. The whole experience felt so unreal to Urist. For the first time in his life, he was about to make a fire by hand. His heart was thumping in his chest so hard that he felt like he was about to pass out in excitement. With all his being, he focused on one thing and one thing only: to see a flame ignite.
Then it appeared.
A single sliver of a flame that contrasted the immobile elements of stick and stone came into existence. Then, it grew. With each careful breath, the fleck of weak flame grew in vigor to a ball of flame. When the fire was strong enough to grow on its own Urist fell back with a goofy smile on his face.
They had done it.
They had created fire.
Urist moved the fire hastily into the pit and told Uria excitedly, “Quick, Get more twigs from the pile.”
The two worked diligently to build the fire. First was the twigs, next sticks, then the small logs they had collected beforehand. And finally, after almost two days of trying, this small dwarven civilization had created fire.
The two dwarfs sat there, watching the fire frolic with satisfied expressions. One proud after conquering the exhausting ordeal while the other felt something deeper. It was hope. Hope that this small flame would be the stimulant that moved their survival forward. This spark wasn’t something one could describe as a simple accessory, but rather an amenity, a need, an essential.
Uria turned to Urist and asked, “So this is a fire? What can it do?”
Laughing at Uria’s question, Urist gave her a deep look, “Many things Uria. Many things. But shouldn’t you know this?”
Clearly embarrassed Uria scratched her chin and replied, “It seems unlike you the things I remember is a mess.”
Pushing no further Urists thoughts returned to the fire his thoughts swirling. With this fire, they would be able to boil the filtered water. With this fire, they would be able to cook food. With this fire, they would be able to make pottery. And with this fire, they need not fear the night.