They say the greater the obstacle, the greater the glory gained in overcoming it.

We shall see, I thought as we braved the forest.

We traveled for about twenty minutes into the dense wood before our instructor announced that we had arrived. We pulled into an open section of trees, a small clearing that provided sufficient space to unload the wagon comfortably. Sophia explained that this was the southern edge of our territory—a circle about four miles in diameter. Besides the dirt road leading to the south, we were surrounded by what seemed to be an endless forest of vibrant green. Spots of filtered sunlight shone through the canopy, breaking up the green-tinged darkness. I took a breath; the air was pleasant and cool, tasting of pine and ancient bark.

“Welcome to your new home!” Sophia announced. “Unless you are removed from the program through elimination or… other factors, this will be your residence for the next two years. How you use your land is up to you, but you will not be given any new territory. Many of you will have ambitious plans, but before you thrive, you must survive. This area is filled with prey and predators competing for the same resources you are. Today you can rest and prepare for the night. Tomorrow will be busy, and afterward, you’ll be on your own. With that, I take my leave; we start bright and early.”

I watched as our teacher got onto the wagon and prompted the horses to take her back the way we came. As the low rumble of the wagon faded, everything stilled. I heard nothing but the soft whisper of breath, the forest holding back even the faintest sounds. The silence was eerie—almost tangible.

There we stood, taking in the scenery as if we had all become nature enthusiasts during th ride. The first few minutes passed in agreeable silence, but I began to feel a mounting moral obligation as I watched the boy next to me repeat the same set of stretches three times over. Listlessness was our enemy. We needed purpose. Finally, I cleared my throat. The boy immediately abandoned his stretching and walked over, a poorly hidden smile on his face. Several others made their way over, or at least turned in my direction.

“Greetingts, everyone. I’m Steven. I believe introductions are in order.”

“Hi Steven, I’m Derek,” one boy said a little too quickly.

The rest of the class fell in step after Derek, though no one shared much more than their name. The mountain of a boy I had sat next to during the trip introduced himself as Jack. The fact that he was still here proved that he was indeed a fellow student despite his mature appearance.

As the introductions ended, I felt everyone’s eyes settle on me again.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” I began.“It sounds like we will be getting quite familiar with each other. But socializing is far more enjoyable with a hot meal and a place to sleep.” A few nods of agreement accompanied my words, so I continued. “To do that, we’ll have to split up the tasks and get to work.”

Brad, the blonde-haired stretcher, spoke up. “I reckon we have another five hours of light if we’re lucky. I’m a decent enough hunter, and there were fresh deer tracks on our way in; I’ll gladly help secure some food.”

“Were we left with any equipment to use?” Kate asked. “I was instructed to leave my gear at the academy. All I’ve got is an extra pair of clothes.”

Another girl, who had introduced herself as Liz, stepped forward. “The teacher left a felling axe and a single buck knife. I’m confident I could carve a few basic spears and other simple tools given enough time and materials.”

After that, several more students shared how they could be of use, and everyone gravitated toward the tasks they were most competent in. Six of us began scouting the area while hunting and foraging, four began to craft various tools, five started work on a shelter, and the rest set about cutting and gathering lumber for the various projects at hand. Someone brought up that we would soon need water, so we began hollowing out a few logs to fill up and sent out a small group to hunt for a river, pond, or stream.

I grabbed one of the first completed spears—a stripped maple rod with a single sharp point of protruding rock fastened to the end with tightly wound vines—and headed into the woods to hunt. Proving myself to be a valuable part of the team wouldn’t hurt, and I typically fared well when it came to hunting. In this case, however, there was no established trail. I was forced to repeatedly climb over fallen logs, losing myself in the abundant briars and foliage. Soon, I was no longer squinting in the low light and began to find the occasional ray of sun to be more disruptive than beneficial. My improved thought speed was particularly useful when processing my surroundings, so I often found it easy to spot signs of local fauna. Sure enough, after thirty minutes of trekking through the underbrush, I came across a game trail. The dirt was noticeably compacted, and leaves were pressed into the ground forming a foot-wide path clear of the constricting underbrush. I paused, listening for any sounds of movement, but didn’t hear anything; this far into the woods, not even the wind whispered its presence. Deciding this was my best lead, I stepped onto the trail and headed east, walking in an awkward sideways gait as I navigated the narrow path. A few minutes later, I heard the rustling of leaves up ahead. To the left and right, I could see only dense brush—fallen branches and overgrown bushes tangled in vines that came up to my shoulders. I hadn’t seen any diverging paths since I happened upon the game trail, and I was becoming increasingly aware of my limited options for retreat. Still I crept forward, doing my best to avoid twigs and dried leaves as I approached the sound up ahead.

A rush of movement. Branches snapped loudly as the animal spooked. I only caught a glimpse of the beast—what appeared to be a small deer. I started down the trail after my prey, imagining the triumph of bringing back fresh meat. Then my breath caught in my throat as a primal fear rushed through my body, freezing me in place. A deep unease urged my heart to beat violently in my chest. I strained to listen for a sign of the sudden dread’s origin, but I couldn’t hear anything over the sound of my own blood pumping through my ears. I did my best to shake it off, then whipped my head around at the sound of a snarling hiss directly behind me. That’s when I realized I hadn’t been the one to spook the deer.

Twenty feet in front of me, staring me down with murder in its eyes, stood an enormous mountain lion. It was crouched, ready to lunge across the short distance between us. I could attempt to fight it off, but my only weapon was a short spear held together by vines and hopeful thoughts. Looking around for inspiration, I saw nothing but dense underbrush packed around the trees—the perfect snare for a mountain lion’s meal. Gritting my teeth, I knew there would be no fleeing from this predator, especially if I was forced to stay on the trail. Recognizing that it was kill or be killed, I looked back at the mountain lion; something clicked in me, and I was overcome by a raging determination. I stared it in the eyes, felt fear wrestling for dominion of my will, watched as it leaped toward me with its claws outstretched. Forcing my eyes to stay open, I reacted, instinctually positioning my spear before me and wedging the butt into the ground as I aimed the point toward the giant cat.

Snap!

My spear bent and splintered into pieces as the lion slammed into me. Pain shot through my body as its claws raked fiery lines across my back and shoulders, its weight tossing me to the ground. Twisting my neck around, I found myself staring up at the maw of the predator. Blood poured from my right shoulder. The spearhead had, in fact, done its job and was now partially embedded in the beast’s chest. Before the lion could sink its teeth into me, I acted. With fear and rage coursingracing through me, I threw myself from the ground and desperately slammed my good shoulder into the back of the spearhead, forcing it deep into the lion’s chest. It let out a loud, frantic cry and began aimlessly swiping at the dirt. Its claws caught me once again, leaving violent red streaks across my left forearm. TBut then, with a final sigh, it went limp, pinning me to the ground under its weight. It took several attempts to push the animal off; it had to weigh at least as much as I did. When I was finally on my feet, I took stock of the situation; I was still bleeding from the gash in my right shoulder and was relieved to find only shallow lacerations on my back; my left forearm had three shallow cuts from where the beast had slashed me, but it appeared to have missed anything vital.

I needed to stop the bleeding. I had a book on combat medicine back at home that I had pored over before coming to the academy. Pausing, I sifted through my memories. The book said to apply pressure to the wound to stop the blood flow and encourage clotting. It also mentioned various medicinal herbs that would speed up the healing process. I had no trouble remembering the correct ones thanks to my gift. I pressed my hand onto my shoulder wound and began to scan the foliage until I recognized one of the plants, green and white with sharp-looking leaves. Silverweed! A common herb used to quicken blood clotting. I took a handful of the leaves and started mashing them between the fingers of my free hand to form a rudimentary poultice. Then, wincing, I packed my bleeding wound with the paste.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

That was an… educational experience, I thought as I shook my head, gritting my teeth against the pain. I had stopped paying attention to my surroundings for mere seconds, and it had nearly gotten me killed. I finally turned my attention to the still form of the mountain lion. At least I would return to the camp with food. Though that also meant that I would have to carry it back. This wasn’t my first hunt, so I set about the necessary steps to prepare the animal for transport. First, I painstakingly gutted and bled the kill using my broken spearhead, lowering the weight considerably. A set of tree limbs made a sturdy makeshift sled to manage the burden. Using a few strips of the lion’s hide, I tied together the basic frame with a single crosspiece in an X-shape. Not wanting to remain out in the open any longer than necessary, I loaded the carcass and began dragging it back the way I had come.

As I walked, I reflected on the fight; I had stared the killer in the eyes and made several split-second decisions that led to my triumph. Not only that but my time spent studying herbs had already paid off. I was wounded, but I felt more like a warrior than ever before. However…Add in a negative realization that adds to characterization, not just abilities.

It took half an hour to get back to the camp, and I could feel fatigue slowing me down. As I stumbled into our little clearing, several students jumped up from their tasks to give me a hand.

“Oh man,” Brad exclaimed as I entered the clearing. “Are you okay?” He rushed over to me, but stopped in his tracks, looking me up and down, eyeing the blood covering my torso.

“I’m alright,” I said. Then I saw his wide eyes taking in the bloody mess smeared across my skin. “Most of it isn’t mine,” I finished. “The meat, on the other hand…”

Brad seemed to spot the mountain lion carcass for the first time. “Holy smokes,” he breathed. “That’s quite the catch! Add that to the rest of the hunting team’s haul and we should have plenty of food for the next few days.”

As he was talking, an intoxicating scent made its way to my nostrils. Seeing my hungry expression, Brad draped my uninjured arm over his shoulder and helped me the rest of the way tot he center of the clearing.

“Our hunting party returned a bit ago, so we already ate. Kate took the rabbits we caught and roasted them for us. I’ll take care of the lion. You get some rest.”

I smiled, and decided I liked Brad. I took him up on the offer and joined a few others at the fire. Kate gave me a warm smile and walked over, handing me a couple of skewers with a bit of meat and some kind of blackened vegetable.

“We have enough meat for everyone to get two, and one of the foragers found some mushrooms, so we added them for variety.”

“Thank you, Kate,” I said, and meant it as I dug into the warm meal. Tension escaped my body as the [food description] flooded my taste buds…

Upon finishing my meal, I took the opportunity to survey the camp. It looked like everyone had been busy. The builders had started work on four different structures that looked like they would function as rudimentary housing, several of my countrymen carrying logs and cutting them into workable pieces as the crafters added to a growing pile of different hand tools and weapons. Besides myself, Brad and the two hunters that had gone with him were back, along with one of the foragers. Between the five of us, we had found one mountain lion, four rabbits, two game birds, and a large armload of edible roots and mushrooms. Not bad for our first few hours together. After a few minutes, the last person left outside the camp arrived empty-handed, accompanied only by a wild grin.

“I found water!” she proclaimed, “there’s a stream to the east of us about a quarter mile away.” She frowned. “There’s a lot of brush, though. It’s a fifteen-minute trek to get there.”

This was big. We could live a few days without food, but dehydration would be a pressing issue within hours without a source of water. Bringing the forager, who I later learned was named Grace, we walked over to Liz, who was busy working on some kind of hammer.

“Liz, we have good news!” I announced. “Grace here has found a stream, and we were hoping you came up with a way to help us transport the water.”

Liz appeared exhausted as she looked up at me with a blank stare. A couple of seconds later her face lit up, as if she’d finally processed what I had said. “That is great news!” She walked over to the pile and pulled out several stumps with attached straps. “These should do the trick. We hollowed them out and attached some basic handles to make them easier to carry.”

I lifted one of the improvised buckets. It was heavy. Seeing the expression on my face, Liz spoke. “I know they’re heavy, but that’s the best we’re going to get for now. We figured you could string them on a pole like a simple yoke.”

I nodded appreciatively. It may not have been ideal, but it was far better than nothing. “We’ll have to make do with what we have,” I said. “Thank you, Liz.”

There were six buckets, so we needed at least one more person to share the burden. I spotted Derek across the clearing and we made our way over to him.

He stood as we approached and called out. “Hey Steven, need a hand?” I nodded, and he ran over and grabbed two of the buckets. “So where are we heading?” he asked. I grinned; he’d offered to help before he even knew what we were doing. A man like that was reliable, no matter the challenge. I filed the tidbit away for later.

Grace spoke up. “We’re going to fetch water from the stream, roughly a quarter mile to the east. We’ll have to make our way through the brush first,” she added.

Derek nodded, unfazed.

“I’m going to ask one of the hunters to join us; give me a minute,” I said. I figured that it wouldn't hurt to have someone keeping an eye out while we hauled the water. Brad was up to the task, and with him as our sentry, we started toward the stream. By the time we got back, we were all worn down; even though it had been an uneventful journey, carrying half our weight while snaking around logs and pushing through bushes was strenuous.

We’ll need to make cutting a path to the river our top priority, I thought as we stumbled our way back into camp, water sloshing in our makeshift buckets.

Liz stood waiting for us. Next to her was a massive log that would have taken several men to drag into the camp; moving closer, I could see that it was completely hollowed out.

Liz gestured toward the stump, “This will be our water reservoir; it should be able to hold two to three full loads worth of water, and since it's open to the sky, it’ll catch rainwater too.”

“Liz, you’re a genius,” I said as I dumped my water into the container. Just as Liz had estimated, our bucketfuls combined to fill the stump about halfway.

Now we’ll have to find a way to heat the water, I thought, furrowing my brow.

It was common practice to boil stream water before using it. Most towns used deep wells, but some still depended on rivers or streams as their primary water supply. As I considered the issue, Kate walked over and stuck her hand into the reservoir. I watched her as she moved her hand through the water; she appeared to be concentrating on something as she peered intently inward. Then she shivered, as if an ice cube were gliding down her back, and took her hand out of the water. As she did, the water began to glow with a soft white light. I stood there staring with my mouth wide open. Was that some sort of gift?

She looked at me and smiled. “My gift allows me to remove impurities.” Her honesty surprised me. Most people would never openly share information about their gift; everyone knew that their gifts were the greatest advantage they had to get ahead in society. Is this some kind of ploy? I wondered.

“That’s an incredible gift,” I said. “I can’t help but be surprised that you would use it so… freely.”

She looked at me thoughtfully before responding. “We’ll be working together for the next two years. We won’t make it far if we can’t trust each other.” Interesting. I’ never told anyone, including my parents, about my gift, and then she shared hers with a perfect stranger.

I didn’t know what to say, so I steered the conversation onward. “So the water is safe to drink now?” I asked.

Kate simply nodded before drawing a handful of water to her lips and taking a deep draught. She wiped her face, flashed a self-satisfied smile, and left. Assured of the water’s purity, I took the opportunity to wash my face using one of the smaller buckets; even though I had taken the opportunity to wash off the blood in the stream, the journey back had left me sweaty and dirt-ridden once more.

There was an almost childish amount of excitement when the shelters were finished. They were simple lean-tos, but shelter meant sleep, and by this point, everyone was about ready to collapse on the grass and catch some shut-eye. We divided ourselves into four shelters—two for boys and two for girls. There were twelve boys to eight girls, but I really didn’t have the energy to complain about the discrepancy. Perhaps if I’d had more forethought, I would have suggested that someone keep watch, but the thought didn’t occur to me until my eyes were closed, and by then, it was too late.