The next morning Jake once again woke up to a knife stuck in the ground by his head. Surprised, he sat up quickly and surveyed the area around him but saw no hint of Rick. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and with a grumble pulled the knife from the dirt, holding it loosely in his hands.
He still felt exhausted. He’d barely been able to sleep. The night before, after his talk with Rick Jake had found himself consumed with thoughts of what he might do next time he was forced to face his fears. He tried to tell himself he could stand tall and reassure himself he would stand bravely next time. But the memories of the beast’s eyes staring in at him as he slowly bled out, hungry and furious, left him shaking. Bravery seemed a distant memory as he thought about those monstrous eyes peering into him, feral and hungry.
He'd been a mess the night before. Throughout dinner he’d been quiet, sitting on the edge of the camp eating small chunks of roasted wolf he’d overcooked as he failed to pay attention to what he was doing. In the end, he went to bed before anyone else, hoping to escape his worries in the realm of sleep. Instead, all he found was restless nightmares that left him tossing and turning all night against the dirt.
Standing now, still bleary and dazed, he looked around and saw neither Lana nor Leopold were very active. Lana was still curled up in her blanket, while Leopold lay awake, flat on his back staring off into the darkness of the sky above. Rick remained hidden from sight. At a guess, he’d chosen to wake up Jake before slinking off into the dark to continue scouting a path through the Largo Forrest.
Looking at the knife in his hands, Jake let out a sigh at the thought of what his new morning routine would be from here on out. He stood up from the ground and pulled the ripped bit of cloth he’d been using as a handkerchief from his pocket and whipped the blade clean of any dirt still stuck on it. Leopold glanced over at him as he stood and gave a friendly wave, before going back to staring at the sky. Whether he was trying to sleep or was lost in remembrance Jake couldn’t tell, but he decided it was best to leave Leopold be for the time being.
Two knives in hand now, Jake wandered over to the patch of dirt which was used for skinning and cleaning caught prey, and lined himself with the woods across from him. Across from him stood the trees he’d been using as targets while practicing knife throwing, yet so far despite practicing what felt like hundreds of throws he’d only managed to successfully embed the knife once. Even then, it was off-target.
But it was progress, and lining up again now, he took the stance he’d been using and began taking practice throws. Extending his right arm back behind his head, he flung forward snapping the knife free with a slight flick of the wrist. Like the last time he tried it flew forward with more force than the rest of his practice attempts but failed to hit his target burying itself in the dirt beyond the tree line. He drew back with the second knife and let it fly, this time messing up the release causing the knife to fling itself into the dirt.
Once both knives were thrown, he walked to retrieve them, falling into thought about how he could improve. It seemed the key issue plaguing his earlier attempts was improper wrist movements like Rick had described yesterday. Hopefully, with practice, he could nail the timing of the release. There was also the issue of accuracy. He’d gotten so used to seeing Rick effortlessly throw knives around that for some reason Jake had thought he’d be able to naturally hit his targets after the first few throws.
Now, days into practice without much else to do, he struggled to imagine consecutively hitting the target with his dominant hand, let alone his non-dominant one. Retrieving both the knives, he returned to where he initially stood. Jake resumed his stance and threw the knives once again. There was a lot to improve, and as of now the only way to improve was constant practice. Fortunately, it wasn’t like he had much else to do, and practicing this beat stewing in his own fear.
Jake wasn’t sure how long he stood there, after two hundred throws he lost count and simply focused on what he was doing. Not long into his practice he grew used to the wrist motion required to consistently release the knife. He found the more violently he tried to force the knife free from his grasp the more it tended to fly off into the ground. What tended to work best was a gentle flick, relaxing the arm and naturally letting the knife fly out of his hand.
The issue he had now was aiming. He could consistently get the knives to travel into the tree line but could not seem to hit the tree he was aiming for. A few of his knives would successfully embed themselves into his desired target but he couldn’t do it consistently enough to call it a success. He tried to replicate the stance and timing that led to successfully hitting the target, but found each time he tried he would fail to properly release the knife.
Growing frustrated after once again missing the tree he was aiming for, sending the knife he held flying off into the dark and hearing a thud as it landed in some unknown tree, Rick sank to his knees and let out a frustrated cry. His hands felt incredibly sore from all the practice he’d done, and he dreaded the thought of gripping hold of his knives again. As he sat there on the ground, stewing in frustration, he heard a whistling sound behind him.
“Not bad kid, not bad. Keep practicing at this pace and soon you may be able to hit a moving target.”
Jake turned to see Rick standing there, arms crossed and an emotionless expression on his face. Next to him on the ground were two bloodless rabbits. Rick darted his eyes from Jake to the rabbits and it was clear what he wanted. Jake pulled himself up without any complaint and went to retrieve his knives from the clustered group of trees he’d been attacking.
Some part of Jake, while frustrated he hadn’t been given more time to stew in his failure, was grateful to be given something to do. Yesterday Jake wasn’t allowed to skin the wolves, only observe as Rick worked and take mental notes on ways to skin larger game. Today, given the opportunity to earn his keep Jake felt grateful. It felt like he was paying off some of the debt he owed the trio.
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Dinner was a simple stew prepared by Rick and Jake after Jake finished skinning the rabbits and properly preparing the meat, with some help from Rick. The stew was rather rough and tasteless, as they had no spices or seasonings to add or vegetables to offer outside flavor. It was just toughened rabbit meat and a broth made of rabbit fat and water.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The group sat around a campfire in an awkward silence. Leopold would interject occasionally with a joke or short story, but often afterward the conversation would die out. In the past, Leopold, Lana, and Jake would get into a simple repour while Rick would eat quickly in the corner before leaving to scout or hunt. Tonight, Rick sat beside Jake forming a trio of silence with Lana who sat a bit further back from the group, wrapped in blankets. This awkward fumbling for conversation continued till Leopold turned to Jake and said,
“So, Jake, you’ve been asking us a lot of questions but how about you?”
“Me?” Jake said, sounding confused.
“Yeah kid, where are you from, what did you do? Tell us a bit about yourself, seems like there isn’t a better topic of conversation presenting itself.”
Jake sat for a moment in silence after Leopold's words realizing for the first time that for the past week or so, he’d been so wrapped up in traveling with the trio and treating his injuries he’d barely thought of home.
Jake covered his mouth for a second, emotion welling up inside him as he thought of home for the first time in a while and what must be happening there. How long had it been since he’d gone missing? Three weeks? A month? Jake had lost count ever since he’d been traveling with the trio, as often days and nights were simply whatever the group decided they were without the sky above to dictate. What must his family be doing right now? He’d just vanished one day. Were they still searching for him? Had they already held a funeral, pretended to bury him? Jake lowered his hand, a shaking voice squeaking out as these questions raced through his head for the first real-time since his journey started.
“I’m… I’m from America…” Jake began voice still quivering. Seeing the confusion on the trio's faces he added, “It’s a long way from here, you won't have heard of it.”
“Foreign traveler eh, what brought you to Largo?” Leopold asked, leaning forward.
“Didn’t… Didn’t mean to. Not really sure how I ended up here…” Jake said, trailing off as he stared into the ground. Silence descended on the group again, but it was different this time. It was heavier, the sadness in Jake’s voice made it less awkward and more depressing as the group exchanged glances unsure how to proceed.
“So, what did you do in America kid?” Leopold asked, trying to undercut the silence and change the topic.
“I was in university, majoring in Mechanical Engineer…” Looking up from the floor he began to speak but stopped once he saw confusion on the group's faces even greater than when he mentioned America. It was Lana who spoke this time, asking,
“You were a scholar?”
“Yeah,” Jake said, nodding and being grateful at being given an answer the group seemed to understand. “Only, I wasn’t very good at it.” Jake continued as he saw the group’s eyes locked onto him, waiting for him to continue speaking.
“Last semester before break, I had to drop out of half my classes halfway through the semester. Even the ones I didn’t drop I still flunked. I was so certain when I drove back home It was over for me. The whole semester my parents just kept encouraging me to try harder, to do my best, but in the end, I still ended up failing.” Jake wasn’t focused on the group at all now, his eyes were glassy, and a half smile was on his face as he recalled the past.
“Instead, as soon as I go through the door my mom pulled me into a hug and my dad just ruffled my hair. My sisters, I was so sure they were going to mock me relentlessly, but they just greeted me with a laugh and said they were glad I was home. No one brought up the fact I flunked till hours later. It was so casual when my dad brought it up too, he just leaned over and said, ‘Can’t win them all Jake, get 'em next time.’ And that was it.” A small laugh escaped Jake's throat before his face darkened rapidly.
“They were always just… so kind to me. Too kind to me. As long as I tried my best that was good enough for them, they never asked for more. I never thanked them for that before I left, didn’t have a chance to. Wish I had… Wonder if they knew… wonder if they know how much I love them. Wonder if there still waiting for me. I hope…” Jake was interrupted by a hand grabbing hold of his wrist and shaking him.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, worried he’d rambled on and bored the group.
“Here,” Lana said, handing Jake a piece of cloth. Taking the cloth, Jake was confused for a minute before he felt how puffy his eyes felt and how damp his cheeks were. Reaching up with the cloth, Jake found he’d slowly burst into tears while describing his story, so wrapped up in memories of the past he failed to notice. Embarrassed he quickly wiped his eyes with the cloth and blew his nose, as it had turned runny as well.
Still feeling embarrassed, he thought about returning the scrap cloth but thought that may be seen as rude considering how dirty he’d made it cleaning himself. Looking around the group a mix of pity and interest stared back at him, save for Rick whose stoney expression he found impossible to read.
“Sorry about that,” Jake said, hoping to quickly move on from the incident.
“It’s fine.” Leopold said in a kind tone of voice, “Sorry we interrupted.”
“What?” Jake said, confused for half a moment before remembering what he was about to say in the trance-like state he’d fallen into.
“Oh yeah, sorry. All I was going to say is I hope they know I’m still alive, and I hope they know I’m going to come back home.” Jake finished with a small smile on his face and a fiery expression in his eyes.
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“Did you understand what he was talking about?” Lana asked Leopold after Jake had left for bed. The rest of dinner had been more jovial, an attempt to try and raise his spirits but he still seemed out of it when he went to bed.
“Honestly, no? Have you ever heard of a Mechanical Engineer? I know of the ancient Mechas, but I’ve never heard of a school dedicated to it.”
“No,” Lana said with a shake of her head “and I’ve never heard of an ‘America’ either.” Both already knew these facts, they were beating around the bush from discussing the main topic of discussion.
“Do you think he was kidnapped?” Lana asked as she looked back over at Jake.
“I don’t know what happened to him.” Leopold said, a distressed tone rising in his voice, “But it was clear he somehow ended up in the Largo Mountains on accident.” Lana nodded her head before both looked over toward where Jake was struggling to fall asleep. Leopold let out a sigh and said,
“Honestly, I don’t know what to make of his story at all. I sorta hoped if he was willing to share, we’d understand him more but I’m even more confused now. We could ask him more questions but…”
The conversation was interrupted by the sound of a knife landing between the two’s feet. Lana and Leopold looked over to see Rick, who still hadn’t moved an inch from where he sat during dinner. His face was an emotionless mask, and his voice came out in a tiny whisper the two could barely hear,
“Just leave the kid be.”
Lana and Leopold glanced at each other before nodding and walking away. Rick turned his focus away from the two and stared back into the ground, trying to calm his mind.