Chapter Eight- Learn From Your Predecessors
The volume he had picked up first lay on the desk before him. It was bound in fading blue leather, with peeling edges. The paper seemed to be high quality, and Mark had no idea how it had been obtained. Maybe it’d say inside. He flipped the book open.
…I will start by saying that if you are reading this, then Deirdre and I have failed. Meaning we never made it off this Gods damned rock. If you have not discovered it already, you are on an island. You fell on an island, and you were not the first, either. Neither were we. We don’t know how many spirits have fallen here, only that there are ten tomes in this cabin detailing similar discoveries to ours. They all failed too. But maybe, just maybe, you won’t. In this volume, we have compiled everything we have learned on this island that is not already listed in the words of those before us, as well as generally good advice if for some reason this volume is the last to remain. However, If all the volumes remain, you should look for the green-spined one labeled ‘Geography of the Isle of Death’ on the inside cover. It is the first in the collection and all following volumes shall reference it extensively, including this one…
Mark rummaged through the shelf by the desk for the aforementioned book. Lilliana was outside cleaning and identifying the various gizmos and trinkets scattered throughout the small domicile. “I need something to occupy my mind,” she had said. So did he. So he was reading. What I’ve read thus far was not particularly promising, he thought cynically. Finding it, he returned to the desk and chair, and examined it. It was a thin volume, in very good shape for being thousands of years old. Opening it to the first page, he began to read.
… Geography of the Isle of Death. Today is day 84. Varin and I have the geography of this hellhole down, but neither of us can draw worth a damn, so here’s a description. This cabin is in, near enough, located in the center of the island. They start you with a compass. Dot points north.
Directly north, the forest is divided between broadleaved trees and needled trees, which extend onto a horn-like jetty that enters the sea. This is where the best eating is, and the usaa hawks know it too. The creatures nest in the big beloab trees to the northwest, and monitor the whole place from the air. If you enter, you’ll either leave with a meal, or die. It isn’t worth it.
Mark paused reading the journal, and checked the compass. Sure enough, the place that the bird had ambushed them was to the north. An usaa hawk, he thought. Hmm.
The marshy areas to the northeast aren’t, to be frank, much better than the Hell Horn. There’s food to be found, but the swampy bogs also are home to three different varieties of deadly snake- Whipsnakes, Bonecrushers, and Acidfangs. Under no circumstances should you ever enter the water in the marshlands and expect to survive.
The area from the west all the way to the southeast is completely dominated by the Ut’ Aina forest. The creatures there are quite unique in their lack of immediate aggression. Even the predators seem to recognize that we are more trouble than we’re worth. The mana concentration here is higher. It’s actually proven to be a nice place to train skills or forage for food without interruption. There are strange ruins there, but we have not found any use for them, they are too dilapidated.
As for the west? That we cannot say. We have found no way to convince the guardian to allow us entrance. If one was to gain entrance, Varin and I suspect that the power to leave could be obtained. Or death, I suppose. …
Beyond this point the content no longer related to the geography of the island, but instead appeared as a sequence of short journal entries, which Mark scanned through, stopping to read the ones that seemed most important.
… It’s day 167. The only upside to living on this Isle of Death is that none of the plant life has proven toxic, at least to mammalian species. Varin’s head always swells up a little whenever he eats too many eyeba berries (the little spherical purple ones), but there is no danger in the consumption of the various nuts and fruits to be found. But the animals? The monsters? They are unique in both the excessive danger they pose, as well as their exceptional intelligence. Nothing about this place is truly safe. …
…Day 230. The guardian tells us there’s a trial that will allow us to leave the island, but he guarantees us that if we’re powerful enough to beat the trial, we’re powerful enough to find the way off the island ourselves. We’re going to need to train, I’m only class level 138. …
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
…Tomorrow is day 386. Varin is dead. I’m enacting plan B. I’ll be leaving this with the guardian. If I fail the trial, I’ve asked him to return it to the cabin, for use by whoever’s next. If I succeed, well, there’s an identical copy with a different ending, and you won’t be seeing this one.
We failed. I failed. Good luck. …
That was the end of Geography of the Isle of Death. The rest of the pages were yellowed with time, but otherwise blank. Not a long read, he thought sadly. The author’s name wasn’t stated once, just that of their partner. It was pretty obvious that, even though these two had realized the possibility of there being others that followed them, this book had not by any means been their top priority. Key information had been left out, but he hoped he would find it in the three dozen or so scattered volumes around him. He sighed and got to work.
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Lili was almost done identifying the various strange gadgets, when she came across one that she found fascinating. A strange dial that, when fed mana, would predict the likelihood of a storm. She tried it, only when she did, she felt a strange sensation. A wave of exhaustion rolled over, and she nearly lost the tiny bit of jerky she had eaten this morning. Worried, she opened her status.
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Warning: Mana reserves depleted.
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Well, that explains that. Continuing her investigation, she decided to pry a little further, and opened the base statistics section of the status page. Within, found her entire being, broken down into its basest components, quantified. Honestly it was a little disturbing, if admittedly cool.
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Base Statistics Page:
Vitality: (50/50)
Mana: (2/90)
Agility: 30
Represents the speed at which you can move.
Endurance: 20
Represents both your physical endurance and your ability to use mana in rapid succession. As this statistic increases, you will be able to work longer, and magic will cost less mana to utilize.
Strength: 30
Represents how physically strong you are, as well as the strength of mana used.
Regeneration: 50
Represents how fast your mana will regenerate, as well as how fast you can naturally heal from injuries.
Capacity: 90
How much mana you can hold within you.
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Next, the page listed the features of her body that had been replaced or combined with those of a human. There was a startling number, given that outwardly, she hadn’t changed that much.
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Altered Features:
Enlarged liver:
Your body can handle toxins better than before.
Increased bone density:
Your bones require marginally more force to break.
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The list went on and on. Most were highly mundane, if beneficial, and some she believed might even be detrimental in their situation. For instance, Her fingernails, which had previously been rigid and claw-like, were now flat and flexible. Good for everyday tasks, but not so good for the combat I'll likely face on this island, Lili supposed when she realized. But back to the problem at hand.
Her intuition told her that she simply hadn’t had enough mana to power the device. After identifying all those other items, she realized, I must have exhausted my mana capacity. This meant that she would likely have to wait awhile before figuring out what the rest of the gadgets did. Her stomach rumbled, and Lili made her way inside, wondering if Mark had been able to find out if the plants they had scavenged before would be good to eat. She sure hoped so.
Inside, she found him hunched over a book at the desk, his shoulders tense and rigid. She walked up to him, and waited for him to notice as she read over his shoulder. When he didn’t, she placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed her fingers into the muscles there. Surprised, he looked up at her and she asked, “Can we eat the food we found? I’m getting hungry.” In that moment, both their stomachs growled at once, and they burst into a fit of giggles. “Yes,” he said. “According to the spirits who fell here before us, there are no toxic plants on the island.” She breathed a sigh of relief, but he cut her off. “That said, it’s been at least a century since any of these were written, so we’re probably best off trying small bits at a time.” She groaned in dissatisfaction, but knew he was right.