CHAMOMILE RECEIVED A SIGNAL
CHAMOMILE RECEIVED A SIGNAL
CHAMOMILE RECEIVED A SIGNAL X 7
CHAMOMILE RECEIVED A SIGNAL X 48
CHAMOMILE RECEIVED A SIGNAL X 3420
CHAMOMILE RECEIVED A SIGNAL X 2050917
CHAMOMILE RECEIVED A SIGNAL X 46966460054967
CHAMOMILE RECEIVED A SIGNAL X 378490650976039535821
CHAMOMILE RECEIVED A SIGNAL X 927615136168334212262300
CHAMOMILE RECEIVED A SIGNAL X 895813896609691275524003
CHAMOMILE RECEIVED A SIGNAL X 772,555,309,394,543,027,283,455
CHAMOMILE RECEIVED A SIGNAL X 428,022,688,579,763,818,193,288
Chamomile received a signal X 56,401,227,403,729,420,218,836.
Chamomile received a signal X 431,256,961,900,336,546.
Chamomile received 2,929,801,415,741 signals.
Chamomile received 18,932,985 signals.
Chamomile received 72,214 signals.
Chamomile received 4,881 signals.
Chamomile felt feeling.
Chamomile felt touch.
Chamomile felt temperature.
Chamomile felt taste.
Chamomile felt sight.
Chamomile felt sound.
Chamomile felt smell.
Chamomile felt time.
Chamomile felt alive.
Chamomile felt awake.
Chamomile felt a coldness on eir back. Chamomile felt a brightness on eir eyes. Chamomile felt a calmness in eir ears. Chamomile remembered ey was cold for some time. Chamomile was lying on eir back, head towards the sky.
Chamomile sat up and opened eir eyes.
Chamomile looked at the frosted trees. Chamomile saw the icicles hanging off of the branches. Chamomile looked at the sun, angled twenty-six degrees from the center of the sky.
Chamomile wondered how ey got here. Ey replayed eir memories and—
Frustration.
Ey collapsed against the snow.
"Ah-hAEI-CR@jQduoΞMΠLEα#uOiV^%▯ε—"
Ey screamed in light and slammed eir hands across the ground. Beads of snow splattered around em while the lighter portions fell as an iridescent mist. Ey lifted eir arms and splayed eir hands against the sky, curled eir thumb and forefinger in the outline of a circle, and held the sun.
Chamomile sighed.
Eir arms fell back against the cracked, frozen ground and wiggled around. Then ey wiggled eir legs and formed a simple snow angel.
Ey watched the sunset.
Ey watched the sunrise.
Ey watched the sunset.
Ey watched the sunrise.
Ey watched the sunset. Ey watched the sunrise. Ey watched the sunset. Ey watched the sunrise. Ey watched the sunset. Ey watched an icy blue fox-like figure wander over, nose at eir body now mostly buried by snow, and walk away. Ey watched the sunrise. Ey watched the sunset. Ey watched the sunrise. Ey watched the sunset. Ey watched the sunrise. Ey watched the snow above em melt and refreeze into a refractive chunk of ice. Ey watched the sunset. Ey watched the sunrise. Ey watched the sunset. Ey watched the sunrise.
It was exactly noon.
Crack.
Cls-a-a-a-a-rak.
Chamomile moved eir sub-zero arms and pulled emself out of the grave. Ey shook eir limbs, spreading warmth to them and loosening the joints.
Ey stood up, cracked eir neck, and for the first time, paid attention to eir body. Ey wore a shiny gray bodysuit that reached their neck, wrists, and shins. The upper layer was made of tiny pale metal hexagons, arranged so layers of adjacent rings rose up around eir body. They warped to match the body's contours, such that the creases were entirely metal-free and revealed a bone-white cloth underneath.
The lower layer functioned as a second skin, serving as the body's metal reserve and replacing lost hexagons when needed.
Exploration Model 1E6-AS.
Antique, but adequate.
Light steam surrounded eir body as the remaining ice melted from the heat.
'Day Cycle: 88,400 s'
Ey read the observations ey had collected for the past nine days.
'Year Cycle: 360 days
Season Estimate: Winter's end.
Moons: 1.
...
Gravity: 9.6 m/s.
...
Atmosphere: 992,857 Pa.
Composition: 75.6% N, 23.1% O, 1.0% Ar, 0.3% Trace.
Signs Of Civilization Detected.
...
Estimated Development: Classical-Medieval Range.'
Ey pried a speck of bark from a tree, crushing it between eir thumb and forefinger and absorbing the powder.
'Evolution Pattern: Standard.'
Chamomile walked, glossy snow crunching beneath their feet, imprints forming where the frozen soil had softened.
'Assign Name: Pine.
Assign Name: Beech.'
Deciduous trees grew among the forest of evergreens, bare branches leaving pockets of light compared to the shadier floor beneath dense green needles. The needles still held snow, but they had taken a clearer, more crystalline appearance with the warming temperature.
'Assign Name: Squirrel.
Assign Name: Rabbit.'
An icy blue fox-like creature peeked behind a tree forty meters away.
'Assign Name: Fox.'
Ey snapped icicles from tree branches, favoring ones about three centimeters wide.
Snow, rock, ice patch, dirt. Ey wandered over hills and ducked around trees while chewing on ice.
'Assign Name: Woodpecker.'
'Assign Name: Chickadee.'
Ey studied a piece of bark.
'Assign Name: Spruce.'
Assign Name. Assign Name. Assign Name...
.
.
.
***
Chamomile kneeled before a semi-frozen stream. Ey stuck in eir forearm and swirled eir hand around, tasting it.
'Stream fed by lake.'
Ey started walking upstream. With one hand, ey pulled hexagons from eir suit. Eir other hand hummed as it folded the pieces together.
Ey formed them into a handle, and then eir fingers screamed.
A startled chirp sounded fifty meters behind them, to the left. Ey turned and saw an icy blue fox racing away. A bit embarrassed, ey turned on the mufflers.
Ey continued up the stream, fingers hissing and pressing the pieces together. The handle solidified, lengthened, fell together at one end, and sharpened on one edge.
When the blade was strengthened and the handle was polished, ey held a small pocket knife.
The task done, ey folded a blade and looked upwards, eyeing one of the taller trees. A cedar tree. Eir fingers hummed as ey sharpened into claws, and their eir toes followed after. Ey gripped one of the thicker pieces of bark, wedged eir opposite foot into one of the cracks running up the tree's length, and started eir ascent.
Ey climbed and climbed, hands and feet crunching into the bark.
The cedar branches were sparse near the floor, weak tendrils barely one centimeter wide, the snow on their needles having melted into films of dew. They shivered as ey passed, sending sparkling droplets to the snow beneath.
The branches grew thicker, three centimeters wide, but still too weak to support eir weight. When ey reached the top, where the newer branches freely touched the sun, they finally felt solid. Ey tested eir weight on a limb, and when the leaves did no more than lightly shake, ey rested both feet on top of it.
The wind swayed the treetop, whistling past eir ears.
Chamomile looked down. At this height, ey would... definitely break a few bones.
'Add Task: Make rope.'
Lacking said rope, ey latched eir feet and one hand to the tree. With the other, ey looked out across the land.
Strange cobalt mountains rose to the east, stone monoliths capped in white that pierced the sky. Some were stranger, growing sharper at the peak in a way that geological processes couldn't have produced. The forest met the mountains at their base, stretching forever to the north and sound. Smooth glades dotted the forest as deer, wolves, and a fox roamed the land.
A fox...
An icy blue fox rested ninety meters from eir tree, chewing on a rabbit.
Was it the same fox as before?
Strange. Ey needed to check its fur patterns to be sure.
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Chamomile watched the stream as it continued through the forest, and when it passed around a bend, ey followed the gap in the trees. It ran towards the mountains, continuing for twenty kilometers before opening into a large clearing.
Ey smiled.
The lake.
Ey grabbed the bark and slowly, carefully, climbed down.
***
When Chamomile's feet touched the ground, ey did not stop and sigh. That would be silly.
Ey continued towards the lake. As ey did, ey looked for dead branches. Not the fresh ones that still had moisture trapped by winter, nor the old ones, their insides long since rotted by time. The dry ones, the thick ones, the ones that were suited for whittling.
Unfortunately, winter was winter, and most of the wood was wet or covered in snow. Ey sighed. Ey'll probably have to dry the wood emself.
Chamomile switched whittling to a secondary task. Given the signs of undeveloped civilization, ey decided to relearn some wilderness survival skills.
With the river nearby, ey decided to fish for some fish.
Fresh branches were much more common than good ones, so it wasn't long before ey found some straight, springy branches, about thirty centimeters long. Ey sharpened one end to a point, cutting eir finger and rubbing the blood into the wood. When ey had three, ey looked for a thicker pole. Ey flattened one end and wrapped it in metal before pounding in the three hardened prongs, pointed end first. After sharpening the protruding ends, eir fishing spear was ready.
Chamomile waded along the riverbank, water going up to eir thighs. Ey looked across the river, alternating eir attention between fish and good wood.
A glimmer— hr-thnk.
A miss.
Viable wood? Ey left the river and inspected it. No. Ey walked back into the river.
A glimmer— pause.
Chamomile studied the fish as it relaxed within a crag.
Hr-thnk.
A miss.
Ey looked around, and... huh. An icy blue fox hid inside a bush devoid of leaves. It peeked at em behind the branches. Zooming in, Chamomile compared the fox in eir eye to the one in eir memory. After a moment, ey confirmed that, yes, the fox was following em.
Weird.
Chamomile continued along the riverbank.
A glimmer. Ey stared at it, long and hard.
Hr-thnk.
A miss.
Chamomile walked beneath the water to retrieve eir spear. Ey felt a hint of frustration, but not much. It was okay to mess up; it made sense, considering ey were out of practice and especially considering that eir Eyes were closed.
But...
Hold it, like so. Angle it, like so.
Why did these feel so familiar?
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Throw-Exhale.
There were faint strands of memory, each one tugging em to move a certain way. Each one a different qualia than eir current mind. Ey traced one that pulled a little bit stronger than the others.
It was strange, because ey didn't practice spear fishing in this life—
///
I am Sarunai.
///
+++
—Chok'Thee grinned as he saw Sarunai fumble with the fishing spear. The young fisher glowered, hands clenching tighter and tighter as he aimed, threw, and missed again and again. Fish fled the ripples of his agitation. He continued until the sun was just above the trees, missing every shot, the fish seeming to curve away from his spear.
"I will drop these off at Home," Chok'Thee said.
He carried a basket of fish on his shoulders and holstered his own spear on his back. "You look tired. Why don't we take a break?"
Sarunai growled at the fish.
When Chok'Thee walked out of sight, Sarunai collapsed on the riverbank and tried to maneuver into a sitting position. Left knee down, right knee up. His left hand kept him upright, and from his right hand dangled the fishing spear.
Resting the spear on his stomach, he looked at himself.
His hands and feet were wrinkled. Parts of his skin had chafed on his spear, and his neck was sore, and his arms were sore, and his legs were sore, and his back was sore. He massaged his arms until he realized his hands were also sore.
Tired, too tired, Sarunai asked himself the question he refused to ask Chok'Thee.
What was he doing wrong?
***
Sarunai carried two thick akshua branches on his shoulders. His father, wise man Tinuk, held the other ends. Between them hung the eland, tied by its feet to the branches; Their catch, one that would feed their village for several days.
Beside him marched—
+++
—STOP—
Chamomile stumbled.
+++
—Por'Tua, his older brother, and their scout. Por'Tua played his ocarina, its notes sharp in the air, and announced their arrival to the village.
They entered with celebration— it was Sarunai's first hunt, and such a large kill was a sign of good fortune. Other xotls— xeraws that had proven themselves in their hunts— came out to congratulate him.
The village had gathered, Sione and her students walking forward to inspect their catch and lead them to the skinning rack. He followed them with his eyes, but his attention was locked on Tlayi.
When the carcass was secured, "and for you, dexterous Tlayi," he pulled a fresh hare skin from his pouch. His friends raised appreciative murmurs, and Por'Tua snickered. While Sarunai had killed it, Por'Tua had to point it out three times before Sarunai saw where it was.
Sarunai elbowed him and kept his eyes on Tlayi.
Tlayi blushed. After a long moment, she said, "you are too generous," her hand hovering two palms from the hare skin.
"Please, take it. Were you not the one who taught me to skin them two moons ago?"
"Yes— I mean, no— I mean, I did," she took the skin, "your work is still a little crude, but thank you. I accept it."
Por'Tua elbowed him, gently.
***
As the villagers prepared for his cohort's coming-of-age ceremony, Sarunai was bragging with his friends. Mostly involving his talent and how he would one day be the village chieftain.
"Oh?" Chok'Thee, the apprentice fisherman, spoke up. "But hunting needs the rains to be plentiful. When the dry season comes," he raised his eyebrows suggestively, "can you catch Tlayi fish?"
The other boys oohed, egging him on.
Sarunai tensed, like a safar sensing the soft pull of a bowstring. "Of course I can! And I bet I can do it better than you, too!"
Snap.
"Oho? Then how about a competition. You and I, we go to one of my mentor's fishing spots. If you can catch half as much as I, I'll serve you for ten days. But," eyes aglow, Chok'Thee continued, "if you can't, you shall present me with three hare skins, each as carefully cleaned as the one you cleaned for Tlayi, and each presented with Tlayi in view."
"Ah— well, I'm sure I can do it better in time," Sarunai scrambled for an excuse.
But Chok'Thee pressed his advantage. "Ah-ah, is this truly what I see? Our young chieftain fleeing with his tail between his legs?" He held out a hand, "what would Tlayi say?"
Sarunai looked him in the eye. "Thirty days. Ten for each hare skin."
Chok'Thee did not care. He gave him a predatory grin—
+++
—THIS IS NOT—
Chamomile spasmed and threw emself away from the stream.
The fishing spear twitched behind em, one of its prongs having pierced a fish's head.
+++
—"Agreed."
They clasped hands.
***
"Back! Back, you scamps! I will not have you tampering with our performance."
Chok'Thee was holding his fishing spear and had gotten his mentor to lend him a spare. He carried a basket, wore a sunhat on his head, and his atlatl was in his basket.
"Yetchawa will be our witness."
Sarunai sulked with his loaned spear, loaned atlatl, loaned basket, and loaned sunhat, face stoic and mind in shambles.
As they walked away to well-wishes, Chok'Thee continued, "We'll be going to one of my favorite fishing spots. Good rocks, lots of shade, good sediment, and it's shallow, too!"
Sarunai said nothing.
Chok'Thee asked, "Have you ever fished before?"
"..Yes."
.
.
"Of course you have."
"Be quiet."
They continued to the river, Chok'Thee trying to make conversation and Sarunai agonizing over Tlayi's expression.
When they arrived, Chok'Thee swam to one of the boulders that stuck out of the river, the firm ones that weren't covered by moss, and clambered on. "If you would like help, Serunai, I will trade you advice for the price of one hare skin."
"Hmph! May Vracta fill your baskets with air and coat your spear in mud!"
Sarunai deliberately walked away from Chok'Thee's fishing spot and deliberately looked for fish in the opposite direction.
Hr-thnk.
Chok'Thee had already started fishing. Sarunai hurried to match his pace, but soon he faced another problem.
Where would he look for fish? He picked a spot with clear water and good visibility but saw no fish around.
Hr-thnk.
Chok'Thee didn't seem to have any problems.
***
Sarunai leaned on his spear and looked out across the river. He took off his basket and faced the truth.
He still. Had yet. To catch. —
+++
—STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPISOLATESTOPISO—
Chamomile slammed into the snow. Ey pressed eir palms to the side of his head and tried to stop the DISS-diss-ASSO-asso-CIA-cia-TION-tion.
—LATESTOPSTOPSTOPISOLATEISOLATE—
+++
—A single. Fish.
Soon it would be sunset. And so again, he asked himself.
What was he doing wrong?
Oh, he knew he was fishing in the wrong spot. When he compared his place to Chok'Thee's, his spot was clearly too sunny, and Chok'Thee was clearly aiming for the shadier areas.
Sarunai soon moved to a spot similar to Chok'Thee's, and as he peeked at him in the moments he went to retrieve his spear, he tried to memorize Chok'Thee's movements.
He sighed and looked at the waters around him. He splashed around with his arms. It was funny how his arms bent as they sank beneath the water, yet when he pulled them out, he could see they were still perfectly straight. It was almost like a...
***
Sarunai watched Chok'Thee as he climbed back onto his rock. Chok'Thee continued fishing, and Sarunai was sure that he copied him perfectly. Chok'Thee was also smirking. He tried to hide his expression, but it oozed from his posture.
But... was it just him, or was Chok'Thee aiming below where the fish were? It was hard to be sure from this far away.
Sarunai looked back at his fishing spear and practiced his throwing motion. It must've been a...
***
"Now remember, Saru, the sun is mischievous," Tinuk said, as they stalked through the savannah. "See that, Saru?" He crouched behind a shrub and pointed at a hare, nosing at some dry grass. "Where do you think it is?"
"What hare?"
"Hah. Look closer. See it yet?"
Sarunai squinted but only saw shrubs.
Tinuk pointed again, "Right there. In the shade by the dead tree, some thirty strides away."
Sarunai squinted again. It took him a while, but eventually, he could make out two ears and a round, hunched body. The heat blurred the air between them. "Oh! I see it now." He reached for his bow.
"Wait," Tinuk stopped his hand. "This is important. How long did it take you to find it?"
Sarunai paused. It had taken at least twenty moments.
"Just as the sun hides us from the hare, it hides the hare from us. Remember this, for the lions and cougars and hyenas will remember this too. They will use this..."
***
..trick of the light.
Sarunai stared at his spear. It couldn't be that simple.
Could it?
He poked his spear at a rock in the water and watched as his spear passed over it. He angled his spear lower, slightly lower, and this time his spear tip connected.
How could he have missed it the entire time he was fishing?
He sat there, dumbfounded, before he rushed to Chok'Thee's fishing spot.
It was nearly sunset.
Fish... fish... fish...
There!
Hr-thnk.
Missed. But it almost hit, and this time he was sure it was more than just luck.
He tried to swim for his spear, but the fire in his muscles slowed him to an eager hop. He fought the light current for every moment of daylight.
Sarunai's pride refused to let him finish without at least one catch.
Hr-thnk.
Hr-thnk.
Hr-thnk.
Hr-thnk.
Hr-thnk.
.
The spear shook in the water. It continued shaking long after it should have stopped from the force of his thrust alone. —
+++
—He shuddered, trying to pull emself back to the present moment. He dragged in ragged breaths— STOP THAT.
Chamomile stopped breathing and switched to internal fusion. Ey crushed the instinctive need for air. Ey meditated on the Helium, taking in the energy as ey tried to detach his memories. —
+++
—Sarunai meandered to the shore while inspecting his catch. His spear had pierced the fish's belly, which might make it bitter when it was time to cook.
Clap clap clap clap clap.
Chamomile looked up.
Chok'Thee had returned, "Well! it seems our young chieftain has finally caught himself a fish!" He had exchanged his fish basket for a fruit and meat tray, along with two live-fired fish. It wasn't much. The food was mainly an appetizer— the slower xeraws still had a few more days to prove themselves, and only at the equinox would the real feast begin.
Sarunai's friends accompanied him, parts jeering, parts cheering.
Sarunai smiled, but Chamomile closed his eyes.
Sarunai said, "Hah! I told you I could catch half as much!" Chamomile said nothing.
Chok'Thee laughed. "What? I see only one fish before me."
Sarunai said, "But I see only two before me." Chamomile sighed and looked at the sky, its color a gradient of scarlet and lapis.
"Oho. I see how it is." Chok'Thee paused. "Wait, Chamomile," he hesitated, "is everything alright?"
Chamomile took a breath of remembered air, a mixture of river, fruit, spice, fish, and spring. "Hopefully."
+++
Ey calmed down. When ey was ready, ey inhaled that breath of memory. "Hopefully."
Ey lay there in the snow, calming down, reinforcing eir identity as ey combed through eir mind.
How many lives were in here?
Chamomile froze. All of them.
Okay. Okay, hurry. Hurry, hurry. Ey pushed emself off the ground and moved to the lake as fast as ey dared.