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A young girl
with dark purple hair sat on the ground, a digging instrument in one hand, and
a paintbrush in the other. She had dug a small trench in the soft soil, and was
muttering to herself in a language that to any human of our time, would sound
like pure gibberish. Beside her sat a satchel and a pack not quite unlike one
you’d see campers or even hikers carrying around on their backs. Out of the
satchel, the end of an old notebook could be seen, and a pencil was tucked into
its spiral binding.
“Nothing...” She
complained to no one, and propped her head up with her hands. “I thought there
would be at least a small thing here.”
She peered down
into the seven-foot hole she had been working on since that morning. Nothing.
No dishes, no metalwork, no ruins. Not even an old looking rock. It was
frustrating; She had been in this area for days, and had found not a thing she
was looking for. This would be harder and more discouraging than she had
imagined!
“Eden, Eden,
Eden...” She chided herself under her breath as she looked at the daylight
slipping behind the horizon.
“I guess it’s
time to camp! Again.” Eden tried to sound enthusiastic, to put some hopefulness
into her voice. The girl began to set up a tent frustratedly. She wouldn’t let
her mother be right! She would find out what happened to them. She would be the
only one! The first one! And she’d be famous for the discovery.
After pitching a
tent made from a tarp and rope, she rolled out her blankets, and dug around in
her pack for a tinderbox. Well, it wasn’t really a tinderbox. It was actually
an old jewelry box she had found in the attic when she was packing. And with
what little money she had, she had bought a tinder set back in Marais before
sneaking onto a ship headed towards
Baickhor. She didn’t even know if she was in Baickhor or not,
because she had gotten off the ship at the first port after almost being
caught. The temperature and scenery seemed like what all the books said, so she
was sure she was there. But the cities were nowhere to be seen. After leaving
the port town, Eden hadn’t seen a single person, let alone another town, for
days.
After dragging
out the box and staring inside while she recollected, she suddenly realized
that she was out of firewood. She grumbled to herself again, and began to
search around her campsite for brush or sticks. All she found were a small
handful of twigs, and some dead leaves. The plains weren’t the best place to
find wood, probably. But it was her own fault. She would have to search for
some sticks before she reached the mountains in the distance and pack them, as
trees were probably scarcer in the mountains than in a field.
She pulled up
grass from around the area where she was going to make the fire. She made sure
it was plenty big enough so that the sparks didn’t spread and catch the place
on fire. Then with her trowel, she dug a shallow hole, and mounded the damp
dirt left over in a ring around the pit. She reached over for her tinderbox,
and threw her twigs and leaves in the hole, making sure to save the pulled
green grass to smother the remains of the fire in the morning. She took out her
flint, and scraped them half-heartedly together. After a couple of tries, a spark
hit the dry kindling and a small dreary fire began.
Eden sighed and
stared at the small fire. She pulled a package of food from her pack; Trail
rations, again.
She had known
when she left that it would be tough going. But she really hadn’t been prepared
to eat jerky, hard bread, and nuts for weeks on end. But, it was better than
being hungry.
After chewing on
the dried meat for a minute, she reached into her satchel again and produced a
fat white candle, and a book. She dipped the wick into the flame, and set it
down on the ground beside her in a small brass holder. She then lay belly down
on the ground, and began to read the book.
It had been a
present from her father, right before he left. It was a book filled with
pictures of far off places, and text describing ancient cities and
civilizations. Just as her father had been, Eden was fascinated by artifacts
and ruins, and stories of this bygone era. It was Circa 105,055 AE, and some of
the few artifacts found dated all the way back to 001,994 BE. Her mind was
intrigued by these people that had lived before her own. What had they eaten?
What were their homes like? Their technology? Some scholars speculated that
they had technology far more advanced than they had ever dreamed of. They had
ways of utilizing electricity, and communication in the blink of an eye. Every
night, Eden had dreams of this world her father had left them all to explore.
He had left on one of his “expeditions” with a bunch of his friends. A year
later, her mother had told her that he was never coming home. But she knew the
truth. She had gone to a newsprint place in their town before she left on the
ship, and she had confirmed that he had died in Canis somewhere, but they had
no body to bring home to bury. So her mother had lied, to make it easier for
her and her sister Eve. But it angered Eden that her mother would lie to her
like that, just to curb her explorative tendencies. She always told Eden that
it was just a “hobby”, and that she would “grow out of it”. Well, here she was
in the middle of nowhere, eating jerky and proving a point. Well, she wasn’t
just proving a point. She was being a pioneer! According to the book her father
had given her, there were people just like her back in ancient times. In a old
main tongue, they were called “archeologists”. And the world was arranged
differently, too. They speculated that at one time, Marais was once two
different places! Eden couldn’t even fathom that.
She just wished
she could find something that would lead her in the right direction. Anything
unusual, anything from the ancient times. But ultimately, what she wanted was
evidence. Eden wanted to know what had wiped out an entire civilization that
was at the height of its prosperity over 100,000 years ago.
Eden came to
groggily and noticed that the sun had well since risen. She rolled over, half
in her bedroll and half outside. There was a mild breeze, and when she looked
down at her feet, she noticed that during the night, she had stuck her left
foot in her makeshift fire pit and had gotten ashes all over it. She grimaced
and began to brush off her foot, wondering if maybe there was a river or even a
pond nearby in which to get fresh water, and maybe wash up.
After breakfast,
she packed up her camp and began to hike north toward a forest in the distance.
Forests usually had rivers. She’d just have to chance it. Besides, it wasn’t
like she was going out of her way or anything. But she did wish she had a map.
She was going to run out of food soon, and running out of food didn’t sound
like much fun.
After walking a
fair distance, Eden found herself surrounded by huge, tall pine and redwood
trees. She stopped, and looked back in the direction she had come. Trees upon
trees obscured her vision. Yep, she was lost. And there was no sign of water
anywhere.
She flopped down
and took a minute to catch her breath. Were there any methods she knew to find
water? To find her way out of a forest?
“Bah!” The girl
with the dark purple hair said to a sky she could barely see. Her voice echoed
back at her angrily.
“Water...town...I
can’t seem to find anything.” She sighed, after a while, and stood up.
Birds were
chirping in the trees, but Eden couldn’t see them. She had been hiking all day
without any sign of water or a way out of the forest she had wandered into. She
was beginning to wonder if she was going in circles. She kicked angrily at a
rock, and sent it flying into some bushes a ways away. From behind the bushes
there was a yelp, and a then a low growl followed by rustling. Eden stopped dead
in her tracks, and unhooked a medium-sized switchblade from her belt. When it
was at full length, it was the size of a decent dagger. She had picked that up
before she left Marais as well.
The growl became
rougher as well as closer, and she turned toward the noise. It seemed to be all
around her, almost as if closing in. She kept turning, keeping her head toward
the throaty sound.
The birds in the trees were silent
now, except for one, which kept up an ear-piercing warning trill. She realized
she had been holding her breath, and let it hiss out slowly from between her
teeth. What the hell was it out there? Why did this have to happen now, of all
times, when she was at the peak of her weariness for the day?
Suddenly,
a grey streak shot from the bushes behind her. Eden had barely enough time to
step out of the way before another wild dog leapt out at her. She took a
defensive stance and waved her knife threateningly at them, but they didn’t
seem intimidated. Soon, there were five of the grey mottled dogs milling about
her. Growling and snarling, their milky yellow eyes looking like they hadn’t
eaten in weeks. She knew that taking her eyes off them for one second meant
death for her. She began to back up, slowly, then turned and broke into a dead
run through the trees.
Branches
and dead leaves crackled under her feet as she ran past the redwoods and pines.
She could hear the dogs behind her, snarling and slathering, breaking a wide
path through the humus carpet of the forest. She ran even harder, realizing
that they would eventually overcome her. Maybe there was someplace to hide. If
she got far enough away, she could always climb a tree really quickly and wait
until they left.
Eden
turned back to see how far away the dogs were from her. Then suddenly, the
ground was no longer beneath her, and her whole body pitched forward, her
backpack shoving itself roughly against her shoulders and neck, speeding her
fall.
She
hit her head hard and rolled end over end down a steep ravine, burrs lodging
themselves under her fingernails as she tried to dazedly grab onto something to
stop herself. She hit a tree or rock, and skewed sideways, her head aching, and
her ears ringing. Then suddenly, everything was cold and silent, a heavy
feeling washing over her. She opened her eyes, and couldn’t see a thing. She
went to take a breath and choked as her nasal passages filled with chilly
fluid. Eden kicked out with her feet and found purchase on a soft floor. She
shot like a rocket to the surface of the water, but then sunk back again under
the weight of her now soaked pack. She kicked out again, and took a quick
breath before she was dragged under again. After doing this a few times, she
finally made it to an area in which she could stand with her head above water.
She wiped her eyes, and looked around, gasping for air.
On
the shoreline stood a figure with pale blonde hair and a bright green scarf. He
had a weapon of some sort and was using it to make loud noises to scare off the
wild dogs that had chased her down the ravine. The dogs looked like they might
take him on, but then turned tail and fled down the shoreline and out of sight.
The man watched them go, then looked back at the water. He was tall and had
pale blonde hair, which was pulled back into what looked like a short braid
from that distance. He had on a blue shirt, brown pants, and black boots.
“Thank you!” Eden
called out to him. He looked at her, shouldered his own pack, and began to walk
off.
“Hey! I said
‘Thank you’!” She yelled at him again, a little annoyedly. Then, it dawned on
her that he might not speak her language. She began to wade to shore, and ran
up the sides of the river looking for him, but he had already gone.
She sighed
heavily, and plopped her pack on the sandy dirt. Sitting on a rock, she began
to lay out the contents to dry, and calculated how much daylight was left.
About two hours worth. It would give her flint enough time to dry out at least.
Eden looked
around the area, and noticed that there was a small pit dug in the ground, with
sticks and dried moss in it. Was that guy going to set up camp here and she had
chased him off? That seemed to be the case. That was too bad. She would have
liked company, even if he didn’t speak Marai.
She took of her
wet jacket and laid it over another rock. She did the same with her leggings
and her shorts. What did it matter? No one would see her, and she wanted her
clothes dry, right? She saw something out of the corner of her eye, and noticed
two large, forked sticks lying a few feet off. She grabbed them, and placed
them firmly in the ground on either side of the fire pit. She braced them with
more small boulders she found along the shoreline, and strung one of her tent
strings across it. There. A small clothesline! Now her clothes would dry
faster, especially once she got a fire going.
“At least it
isn’t cold out here.” Eden said to herself as she hung the clothing from the
rocks over the clothesline. Plus, she had found water. She could refill her dry
canteen, and take a bath! The thought of a bath made her feel a lot better. She
could take one while waiting for her clothes to dry out. Then, her clothes and
bedding would be dry when she finished. She leaned over and felt her tent tarp.
That was already almost dry because it was waterproofed. She was glad her boots
were waterproofed too. Otherwise they’d be ruined!
Eden took out a
bottle of shampoo, a bar of soap, and a washcloth from a small plastic bag.
Fortunately, her book had been in the bag with the toiletries, so it hadn’t
gotten wet.
She stripped down
on the shore and got back into the chilly water. It was one of those mountain
spring streams, so it was frigid, but to someone who felt as grimy as she did,
it didn’t matter. Small water skates and dragonflies milled about while she
scrubbed herself with the washcloth, while the sound of the water flowing
relaxed her. It really was quite a nice campsite. It was too bad she had chased
that guy off. But then again, she would have had to go upstream to bathe if
that were the case, and the combination of sore muscles and the icy water were
making her exhausted. She finished up and strode out of the water, forgetting
that her towel was still wet. So she sat on a rock, grabbed her tarp, and
draped it over herself. While she dried, Eden pondered that strange man who had
saved her. He was blonde, not a hair color native to Marais. So he was from
another land. Well, she thought, she was in a foreign land herself. But people
in Baickhor did have skin and hair like that. And on that note, she regretted
even more not being able to speak to him because if he was a native, he would
probably have been able to point her in the direction of the nearest town.
That night, while
the remains of the fire smoldered at her feet, Eden dreamt of the strange man.
Who was he? What was he like? Were their paths destined to cross in this
manner?