Chapter 5: Fire

On the way to his hideout, Vesper was again limping, his leg throbbing painfully as the wound reopened. The adrenaline that had masked the pain earlier had faded, leaving him keenly aware of the agony. As he struggled to keep moving, he stumbled upon a pond so clear and expansive that it resembled a river, except for its perfect circular shape.

He groaned as he lowered himself to the water's edge.

"Great, just what I needed"

he muttered through clenched teeth, dipping his hand into the cool, soothing water. With a wince, he began cleaning the wound, his hands trembling slightly.

"Damn.." he thought

The pain was sharp and relentless, a deep, throbbing ache that seemed to pulse with every beat of his heart.

"This is worse than I thought"

he grunted, wincing as he worked to remove the splinters of wood lodged in the gash. After cleaning the wound and his small rug, he bandaged himself, trying to ignore the searing pain.

"I've got to get back before something else decides to make me its lunch" he said aloud, gritting his teeth as he continued his journey back to his hideout.

Once inside, he assessed his damaged lower body armor, which was beyond repair.

"Alright, think, Vesper"

he said, pacing back and forth.

"What did those old books say about medieval armor? Maybe something with wings?"

He grabbed the wing of the giant butterfly he had slain, attaching it to his waist.

"This should work"

he muttered, securing it with makeshift fastenings. He then mixed tree resin with ant carapaces for added protection, setting the crude armor aside to dry.

While waiting for the armor to set, Vesper turned his attention to another pressing problem: making a fire. He gathered two sticks, dried leaves, and more sticks.

"Okay, I've seen this done before" he said, trying to recall the details. "How hard can it be?"

He shaved one stick to produce fine curls of wood, and then began the process of creating friction.

"Here goes nothing" he murmured

Carving a small hole in the stick and placing the shavings inside. He positioned the second stick and began spinning it rapidly, his hands working in a steady rhythm.

As smoke began to rise, he said, "Come on, come on… I know you're in there!"

The smoke thickened, and he blew gently on it, coaxing the ember to life. When a small flame finally appeared, he grinned widely.

"Yes! Finally!" he exclaimed.

However, his triumph was short-lived as the fire quickly died out.

"No, no, no!" he shouted in frustration, punching the ground. "Why does it always have to be so difficult?"

Determined, he began again, picking up the sticks and fine wood. "Alright, let's try this one more time," he said, focusing intently.

As the smoke billowed once more, he blew on it with renewed determination. When the fire took hold, he added more kindling and carefully fed the flames.

"Got it," he said, smiling with satisfaction. "This is going to make things a lot easier."

With the fire crackling, Vesper turned his attention to his next challenge.

"Water," he said aloud, thinking through his options. "It's too dangerous to go out in the dark. I need to figure out a way to get some water without risking my neck."

An idea struck him. "What if I use the remaining butterfly wings as a flask?" he said excitedly. "It's sturdy enough, and with resin, it should hold up."

He set to work on the makeshift flask, carefully sealing the wings with resin. "This should work," he said, nodding to himself as he completed the task. "Now I just need to let it dry."

As the night fell, he blocked the entrance to his hideout and prepared his meal. "I'm cooking now!" he announced, his voice filled with excitement. He skewered some butterfly meat and placed it near the fire, adjusting it so it wouldn't burn too quickly.

With the fire burning steadily and his new flask drying, Vesper felt a surge of hope. "Alright, tomorrow we get water, fortify the hideout, and prepare for whatever comes next," he said, mentally outlining his plans. "For now, though, I'm going to enjoy this meal."

As he ate, he felt a sense of accomplishment. "Not bad for a day's work," he said with a contented sigh. "But there's still a lot to do. Let's hope tomorrow is kinder to me."

With his tasks completed and a hot meal in progress, Vesper allowed himself a moment of rest. As he settled down for the night, he mentally prepared for the trials ahead.

"Survival is the key," he said to himself, "and I'll be ready for whatever this abyss throws at me."

******

The next morning, Vesper awoke just before dawn, his wounds still aching but no longer bleeding. He groaned as he shifted, feeling the persistent throb of pain in his leg.

"Do I really have to wake up every day with wounds and pain?" he muttered to himself, the frustration evident in his voice.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand despite the discomfort.

He carefully opened the entrance to his hideout and scanned the surrounding area for any signs of danger. Once he was satisfied it was safe, he retrieved the flask he'd made and the sword fashioned from an ant's leg. Determined, he began his slow, cautious trek back to the pond, moving deliberately to avoid making any noise.

Each step was measured, and his eyes darted around, constantly on alert for any lurking threats.

"I have to make sure I survive this," he thought grimly, "or my brother will be left alone." His brother was his sole reason for enduring this harsh world, and Vesper's determination to provide for them both drove him forward.

Arriving at the pond, Vesper again scanned the area to ensure it was safe. He filled the flask, which was large enough to hold a day's worth of water. Satisfied with the amount, he carefully made his way back to his hideout, mindful of the still-present pain in his leg. He still had plenty of meat from the giant butterfly, enough to last him for weeks. Before setting out on the trial, he decided he needed to heal as much as possible.