Samuel stretched out, and immediately, a searing pain rocketed through his left hand. He had hit the ledge and reopened his wound. Samuel grabbed his hand and rubbed the area around the injury, trying to make the pain disappear. Fresh blood seeped onto his makeshift bandage. Getting to his feet, he walked to the pool and removed the scrap of fabric from his hand; the dried blood from the previous day pulled at his skin, making it even more painful, and submerged it in the water.
Small streams of blood slowly dispersed in the warm water. Eventually, the pain subsided, and he pulled his hand out. Blowing on his hand to dry it faster, Samuel thought, “This is quite possibly the worst morning I have ever had.”
Samuel also cleaned the rag by dipping it in the water and gently rubbing it with his right hand. He did not want to get an infection out here.
As he waited for the rag to dry off, he wiped the sleep from his eyes and took a few sips of the water to remove his thirst. Sitting back down, Samuel considered his options for the day. He should get something to eat, but he was not feeling particularly hungry, and the fish were so docile that he could easily catch more when he felt hungry. That decided he tried to think of something else to occupy his time.
Samuel stretched again, and something wafted past his nose. He realised it was him; he had not taken a shower or bath in four days.
“Well, that settles that then,” said Samuel, nodding as he spoke and slid into the pool.
The warm water was just as wonderful as he remembered. Samuel swam in a small circle, savouring his bath. Scrubbing himself vigorously, using his nails to make up for the lack of soap, Samuel soon began to feel the accumulated dirt wash away. Feeling clean and refreshed, he rested his arms on the pool's edges; Samuel was going to have a good, long soak.
“I have an indoor pool, a heated indoor pool,” Samuel slapped his head for not realising sooner.
As Samuel stood there, the fish swimming around his legs, he began to think about his next move. He looked up and closed his eyes in an attempt to help him think; he was still not hungry.
Samuel felt he should get an early start on becoming more familiar with the lay of the land. He turned around and lifted himself out of the water, again careful not to use his left hand. Samuel walked towards a ledge around knee height, sat down and waited to dry off.
This was taking forever. Samuel had sat on that ledge for what felt like an hour. He tried to think of a way to speed this up; then, it dawned on him that he had already solved this problem. Disappointed with himself, he trudged his way to the dry air of the corridor. Standing there, with the dry air quickly stealing all the moisture off his skin. When he had dried, he dressed himself, reapplied his bandage and walked down the corridor.
Once he had reached the slab, he noticed no light coming through the cracks. His first thought was that someone was standing or sitting on it. Samuel froze in place, trying not to make a single sound. His heart beat fiercely in his chest, and someone found the fire’s remains. He listened intently for the slightest noise from above, any indication of who might be up there. He heard nothing, however.
Slowly, his confidence came back. He took a tentative step forward, placed his arms on the slab and slowly lifted it, ever so slightly. He saw no one; in truth, he did not see much of anything; the sun had not yet risen.
A great sense of relief came over; he had been worried for nothing. Moving the slab back, he walked into the night. Well, it was early morning, the sky was a deep blue, and the breeze was refreshingly cool. Samuel examined the remains of yesterday’s fire, and it was as he had left it; it remained undisturbed, that was good. No one had found him yet.
Looking up at the sky, he saw a few wispy clouds hanging in the air. Samuel had headed left yesterday, so he felt he should bear right this time. There was a slight chill in the air, but it was not unbearable, and the blades of grass and tree leaves were covered in dew. Stepping out of the extension, he stumbled on a loose rock.
Heading off curious about what he would find today, although slightly worried he would meet his attackers again, he was hoping for a king-sized bed but would take an old blanket.
As the sun climbed higher, a dull yellow light rolled over the landscape, and Samuel began to get a better look at his surroundings. The old mountain stretched out as far as he could see.
“How big is this thing?” Samuel asked himself in slight amazement. “Perhaps this is the remains of a mountain range,” he said, thinking up new answers.
The morning walk continued uneventfully for several more hours when something in the forest suddenly caught his eye. It was a tree, nothing extraordinary about that, but fruit was hanging from its branches. They looked like bright red apples but were huge, so large that it seemed it would take two hands to hold them.
Walking towards the tree, Samuel noticed all the apples were tantalisingly out of reach. He tried looking for a stick to knock the fruit down, but he could not see any.
“Right,” he said with determination in his voice, “let’s do this the old-fashioned way.” Looking for the lowest hanging branch, he jumped and held onto it; his injury complained at the sudden pressure put on it, but Samuel tried his best to ignore it.
This was the easy part; pulling himself up, however, was impossible. Samuel tried repeatedly, but his arms did not have the strength to do it. Samuel, however, was not going to be beaten by a tree. He returned to the old mountain, looking for any rocks he could throw.
He discovered plenty, picking up as many as he could. Samuel then went back and selected the biggest one he could see and began to pelt the fruit. Of course, this method would bruise the fruit, but bruised was better than nothing. He missed on his first few throws but eventually hit his target. The impact tore off some of the apple’s flesh, but the fruit was pulled away from the tree.
The apple hit the ground with a great thud. Samuel bent down and collected his reward. The fruit was as big and heavy as it had looked, and it took both his hands to hold it. Selecting a part of the apple his stone had not hit, he bit into it.
It was the best apple he had ever tasted; it was sweet and moist, the texture was indescribable, and even the peel, which Samuel usually did not care much for, was wolfed down with great relish.
Samuel ate every last piece of the apple. Supremely satisfied with his breakfast, Samuel wanted more for his dinner tonight. Looking back up, Samuel was suddenly struck with a realisation. He was ill-equipped for this world.
Samuel could not even climb a tree, for goodness sake. He had only escaped his pursuers through sheer dumb luck. Had he not found that cavern, he would have been killed; if the fish had not been so docile, he would have starved. Samuel could not rely on that good luck forever.
“My body needs to become stronger,” Samuel firmly told himself. He would need to exercise every day, strengthen every muscle in his body until he could climb a tree without effort, run a mile in four minutes, and wrestle one of those dogs to the ground with his bare hands.
Samuel knocked another apple to the ground. Holding it in his hands, rubbing it, he decided he would eat it later; it would be his reward for the hard work he intended to put in. Walking to the centre of the grassy clearing, Samuel rubbed his feet on the ground like an impatient horse and then ran.
Samuel ran steadily; he would work on his legs to build endurance; if he ever reencountered those people, he would leave them in the dust. His feet slammed against the ground, sending shockwaves up his spine; his breathing became heavy, and steadily, sweat began to appear.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
It was slightly easier, the chase the day before and travelling up and down the corridor having given Samuel some practice. He was not, however, anywhere near the level he wanted. Samuel ran onward, each step taking him further from home.
It was midday, and Samuel had been running on and off all the time; Samuel decided that he deserved a break. He slumped himself down on the ground, panting heavily. Samuel was happy with himself; he had undoubtedly covered a reasonable distance this morning. Samuel waited until his breathing slowed, then he would jog back home. He could probably pick up some more apples on the way.
Samuel was waiting patiently when something pricked his ears. He heard a sound coming from the forest. Samuel immediately became worried. He stood bolt upright and focused his attention on the trees.
“Maybe it’s just my imagination like this morning,” Samuel thought to reassure himself.
Only this time, there was something out there; he heard it again, rustling and faintly, he heard more of that strange language. Carefully, Samuel walked back toward his home, keeping his eye fixed on the tree line.
Samuel slowly crept along the forest edge and heard a familiar sound. It was a high-pitched voice; he could not understand what was said but could tell from whom it had come. He was sure it was that little lamia from the day before, and slowly, Samuel walked into the forest.
He took extra care to memorise his steps to find his way back. Samuel walked slowly to the source of the sound, which stopped and started irregularly. Samuel did not know why he wanted to see that girl again; after all, getting out of there made far more sense.
Perhaps it was his passion; the lamia was a biological marvel. Was she a mammal, a reptile? Was she homo or ectothermic? So many questions and so few ways to
The child’s voice was getting louder. Samuel was getting closer, but he did not want to be seen this time. Samuel poked his head around a nearby tree, and there she was. Samuel had been right.
The little girl was just how Samuel had remembered: golden hair and scales, the dress with the same diamond pattern. She was holding another stick; this one was a bit thicker than she had before. An upgrade, maybe?
Samuel did not have a word to describe how she moved; the child’s snake half waved slightly from side to side as she moved. She would often stop and look at something on the ground, inspect it, and then carry on. It looked as though she was looking for something.
Her friends, however, were nowhere to be seen. Samuel supposed they had been too frightened to go out on their own again, but this child was not. Samuel was impressed by the little lamia’s courage. Samuel, of course, was no threat to her, but she did not know that.
“Hold on for one moment,” Samuel thought. “Is she looking for me?”
Samuel took a few steps back to put more distance between them while keeping the girl in view. The girl continued to move forward, turning over almost every stone and leaf. If she was indeed looking for Samuel, she was vastly overestimating his abilities.
The day passed at a sedate pace from that moment on, the girl sliding forward slowly and Samuel keeping an eye on her while keeping his ears pricked for the slightest sound coming from elsewhere. It was then that the girl reached the edge of the forest.
The girl stopped moving at once; she peered out into the open space and the old mountain. It did not seem that she, at any point, would make that last movement and step out. It was not long before she turned around and went back the way she had come. It would seem that not even the desire to track Samuel down would make her leave the forest.
She whacked her stick against a nearby tree trunk, apparently frustrated. Samuel felt it was strange that she was undeterred by being alone in a forest but was worried about being alone in the open. Samuel supposed she must have her reasons and put it out of his mind.
Samuel had followed the girl for the best part of the day and learned nothing apart from the fact that this girl liked sticks and disliked open spaces. Deciding to cut his losses, he set off home before he could no longer remember the way back. Then suddenly, another voice erupted, and two other people appeared.
They were both adults. The first was one of those insect people, a man around the same height as Samuel. He had crimson red hair that travelled to his shoulders, and the chitin on his forearms and legs was also the same shade of red, which seemed to radiate in the light. His antenna twitched furiously. He was wearing a blue tunic with a pattern on the front, an emblem, and five circles stacked one on top of the other.
Suddenly, out of the blue, something clicked. Those three stones he found in the forest, the symbols they had on them. A diamond, five circles and finally, two triangles. Each one corresponded with a different race of these people. The lamias had the diamond, the insectoids were the circles, and by process of elimination, the sheep people owned the triangles.
“Well, that was at least one mystery solved,” Samuel mused.
He had to come up with a better name than sheep people.
“Weresheep maybe,” thought Samuel. “No, that was seriously lacking in imagination; what kind of idiot thought that up?” “Probably some overweight idiot,” Samuel chuckled inside his head. He could not think of anything else, so weresheep it would have to be for now.
The insect spoke to the girl in a disapproving tone. She replied, seemingly defending herself and waving her free hand as she did it. Interrupting her, the other person spoke.
A woman, another lamia with golden hair and scales, much like the girl. Samuel assumed that this was her mother; her hair was tied into a ponytail extending halfway down her back. The woman’s eyes were a deep hazel and also had cat-like pupils. She wore a long dress, coloured sky blue, that stopped just before the rest of her touched the ground.
The woman was really giving it to the girl. Yep, this was definitely her mother, and she carried on ranting for over ten minutes before she finally calmed down. The little girl lowered her head slightly and said something, probably an apology.
The insectoid then knelt, looked the girl in the eye, and said something else with a soft tone; the three people then turned about and headed off. Samuel then followed behind them.
Taking extra care not to be spotted, Samuel crept on after them. As he did, a familiar feeling appeared within him. It was the same as when we had seen that weresheep woman the day before. It had something to do with the way these people looked. It was not their non-human parts that bothered him; strange as they were, it was the rest of them.
These two people were gorgeous. No other word could describe them; they looked as though a master craftsman had sculpted them, and that was not right. Real people had flaws; they had moles, scars and imperfections. They did not have perfect symmetry, flawless teeth and faces that could put the world’s best models to shame.
The girl’s free hand reached for her mothers, and they continued. The mood had changed rather quickly; the girl and her mother talked, smiled and laughed while the man watched on with a smile.
After a short walk, the forest opened up to reveal fields filled with wheat. The long golden stalks swayed gently to and fro in the light breeze, and in the distance, Samuel saw buildings. The three people turned, too, and walked around the edge. Samuel took extra care this time to avoid being spotted and slowed his pace.
Up ahead was a pile of assorted objects, bits of wood, old fabric, and other miscellaneous items. The people he was following barely took any notice, and Samuel was about to do the same when something shiny caught his eye. Samuel stopped following, and as soon as they were out of sight, like a magpie, he inspected it.
Samuel reached out and lifted the object off the ground. It turned out to be a knife. The blade was about as long as Samuel’s hand; it was old, slightly rusted and dull, with a crack running about a quarter down. Samuel, however, believed he could work with it, so he pocketed the old utensil.
This was a rubbish pile; anything these people had that was broken or did not want was dumped here. Samuel believed a beggar could not be a chooser, so he began rooting for anything else he might need. After a short scrounge, he found an old blanket.
It was a dull grey colour and a little threadbare; it needed a wash, but it was still usable, as well as a pouch made out of what he believed to be leather, brown with a good shine on it. Clearly, it had been well looked after. It was perfectly serviceable, so Samuel tried not to imagine what had led its owner to throw it away.
Taking his newly earned spoils, Samuel walked on after the girl. It was a short jaunt, and Samuel finally found them again. Only now, they had been joined by many more people. The other two children from the other day were there, talking feverishly with the lamia. Many other adults were there as well.
They talked, they frowned, they laughed and hugged, and suddenly Samuel felt incredibly lonesome. He missed his family; looking at all these people reminded him of them. His desire for answers eclipsed; Samuel turned to head back home, taking one last look at those happy people and, with teary eyes, walked on.
Samuel walked on automatically, slowly caressing his finger, barely aware of the world around him; thoughts of the life he had lost would not leave him alone. He finally exited the forest at almost the same point he had entered; had he been in a better mood, he would have admired his sense of direction.
The sun was setting, and Samuel found himself at the extension; he walked down the corridor and into the cavern. Dropping his new possessions unceremoniously on the floor, the knife made a clang as it hit the stone and slumped on his pile of grass and leaves. He considered getting something to eat, but he was not hungry.
Lying there with memories of his family tormenting him, Samuel closed his eyes, wanting the day to end.
“Why did this have to happen to me?” Samuel mumbled to himself, trying to push his feelings to one side. He tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, the stress preventing him from sleeping. Placing his arm over his forehead and looking upward, Samuel wondered if he could ever be as happy as those people were.
Eventually, his eyes closed, and he drifted off to sleep.