His legs were caked with dried blood and dirt, which didn’t bode well for staving off infection. In addition, huge chunks of muscle were missing, snipped away and eaten by the oversized crustaceans. His legs had been so ravaged that he questioned whether he could even walk without the advantage of adrenaline pumping through his veins.
He extended his hand and whispered, “Touch of Nature.”
But nothing happened, which made him feel extremely foolish. After trying a few different techniques, most of which involved contorting his fingers in various ways, Elijah sagged back against the tree and closed his eyes. Now that he’d calmed down a little, he was beset by wave after wave of agony originating from his legs. There were smaller injuries across his body – the crabs hadn’t confined themselves to a single place, after all – but they were insignificant next to the fiery pain in his lower legs.
There was something beyond the pain, though. Something almost soothing. Something comforting. He focused on that sensation, delving deeper and deeper until he finally recognized what he sensed.
It was nature.
He remembered the description that had come along with the Druid archetype, which had claimed that it included a bonus to “One With Nature.” At the time, Elijah hadn’t known what to expect from it, but now, leaning against that tree in the middle of a forest, he felt more at home than he’d ever felt before in his life.
In the past, Elijah had been no stranger to the outdoors. As a child, he’d grown up camping and hiking with his parents, and he’d continued that positive relationship with nature when he’d chosen his career as a marine biologist. Often, during a hike or when he was sitting on a boat in the middle of the ocean, he’d found himself looking around in abject wonder and appreciation for the natural world. Sometimes, it was the result of gazing at a particularly vivid sunset. Or seeing a mighty storm on the horizon. Maybe overlooking a raging river that cut through a deep canyon. It had happened so many times that the scenes themselves tended to blend together. But the feeling remained.
Now, it had been dialed up to a hundred, and, as a result, he didn’t just feel an appreciation for nature. Instead, it was a connection. He was no longer standing outside, a spectator looking in; rather, he was a part of it. Another piece of the ecological puzzle. Simply put, he belonged.
He let out a sigh, and for a long moment, Elijah simply basked in that feeling. It overwhelmed his pain, ushering it into the back of his mind. The agony was still there, but in the face of that overwhelming sense of belonging, it was a pitiful thing that barely even qualified as discomfort.
Then, suddenly, that oneness with nature faded away, little by little, until it was only a vague awareness. A metaphysical anchor that kept him moored to the natural world.
But more than that, it gave him some insight into his own being, which was divided into four distinct pieces. There was his physical body, weak but vibrant with potential. Then, his mind, a snarl of errant thoughts and determination. His soul, an ephemeral web that suffused his entire body, almost like a second circulatory System but far more complex and infinitely more meaningful.
The last piece drew his attention more than any other, though. At the center of who he was, there was a gleaming ball of energy. Physically, it was located in the center of his chest. Spiritually, it was at the intersection of his soul; each pathway inevitably stemmed from that sphere of power, the thickest and most powerful of which ran to his mind.
It was all connected, but that core was the driving force behind everything. So, he focused on it. A second later, he let out a ragged gasp. The energy contained in that core wasn’t just overwhelming. It was domineering. But even the brief glimpse Elijah had managed told him that it was the key to everything. So, marshalling his willpower, he shoved his attention back into the core, keeping one thing on his mind.
Touch of Nature, he thought. When he did, a surge of power rushed through his soul. It built for a long second until, at last, it flowed into his hand. Elijah opened his eyes to see that his fingers glowed with a soft, verdant light.
Trembling, Elijah reached out to touch the most egregious wound on his leg, where the crab had torn a three-inch chunk of flesh from his calf. If he’d been capable of washing out the dirt, debris, and blood, he felt certain he would have seen bone. But when he touched the wound, the green light surged, blanketing it in a warm glow. Then, the flesh began to writhe, bits of muscle and skin growing out in tendrils until they connected with the other side. One after another, looking like fleshy string, they mended together, and as they did, they pushed the foreign substances out.
But it wasn’t easy. In fact, holding that concentration was one of the most difficult things Elijah had ever done. If it wasn’t a matter of survival, he might not have managed it. However, it was, so he did, keeping the energy – no – the System called Ethera – flowing through his soul and into his mind, which somehow converted it into the spell.
After a few moments, he couldn’t hold it anymore, and with a gasp, his core sputtered and the Ethera ran dry. Still, when he looked down at his leg, he saw mostly unbroken skin where the wound had once been. There were plenty more up and down his calves and on his feet, but in mere moments, he’d managed to completely heal a wound that should’ve taken weeks to mend.
Elijah sighed in relief and sagged against the tree. Its presence was comforting, like an old friend who’d wrapped him in its warm embrace. For a moment, Elijah considered simply giving in to his exhaustion and closing his eyes. However, it only took the memory of waking up to being eaten by giant crabs to disabuse him of that notion. So, he sat there, regulating his breathing as he concentrated on his core.
Slowly, it refilled, but it didn’t generate the Ethera itself. Instead, Elijah’s mind seemed to have become a funnel, absorbing the energy from the environment and channeling it through his soul down to his core. The key seemed to be keeping his mind clear; otherwise, he could sense the rate of recovery slow to a crawl. Overall, it took almost ten minutes for him to refill his Ethera reserves. Once his core was full, he repeated the process on his other wounds, stopping only when he ran dry of Ethera.
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It took most of the rest of the day, but by the time the sun began to dip toward the horizon, Elijah was healthier than he’d been in months. He was still weak – remarkably so – but he didn’t feel sick or injured. He couldn’t be certain if the cancer was actually gone, but he felt well enough that it gave him some hope for the future. Perhaps he wasn’t going to die, after all.
Not immediately, at least.
But the fact of the matter was that, even if he was healthy, he was still stranded in the wilderness, alone and with no supplies. And if the size of those crabs was any indication of what to expect, the wildlife had been affected by whatever had turned the world upside down as well. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that things were much more dangerous now than they had been when he’d left Hawai’i.
Even so, there was cause for optimism. He was still weak, but he’d just used an actual magic spell to heal wounds that should have been crippling in his current environment. Without Touch of Nature, those wounds would have soon gotten infected, and, given the state of his immune System, he would have succumbed not long after that. Now, though, he had a new lease on life, and he wasn’t going to waste it.
So, he gathered all the knowledge he’d managed to compile over decades of camping and hiking, and he began to make a list of what he needed to do if he was going to survive for longer than a couple of days.
The first thing he did was check his pockets for his phone, which proved completely unfruitful. It must have fallen out when he’d hit the water. Or while floating in the ocean, perhaps. It wasn’t unexpected, but still, the inability to simply call for rescue was disappointing. In any case, he moved on to the other necessities for survival.
First, he needed water. Then shelter. Fire. And finally, food. Luckily, the biome seemed to suggest that he was still in the Pacific Northwest, which meant that water should be plentiful. Shelter might be a little more difficult to find, but given the time of year, food should be abundant. Sure, mushrooms and berries weren’t always appetizing, but they would sustain him until he could find something else.
Fire would be the most difficult, especially without specialized tools like a ferro rod or a lighter. Even so, he’d made fires from scratch before, and though the environment was incredibly wet – there were places in the Pacific Northwest that were classified as actual rainforests – he hoped he could put those long-dormant skills to good use.
For now, though, Elijah needed to explore his surroundings to see if he could find a ready source of fresh water. So, after inspecting himself for wounds one more time, he pushed himself to his feet. The surge of energy he felt upon standing was enough to make him stumble, and he pressed one hand to the pine tree, steadying himself.
He just wasn’t used to feeling…good.
If anything, that highlighted how adaptable people could really be, that he’d managed to keep going for as long as he had. But now, he didn’t have to worry about that.
He hoped.
With a sigh, Elijah shook his head, reminding himself that he didn’t have much choice in the matter. Before, he’d been completely incapable of changing his fate. The cancer was terminal, and he’d accepted his death as inevitable. However, now that it seemed to be gone – or at least weakened enough that he’d been given a fighting chance – he felt free. But it was all an illusion. If it still decided to kill him, there was still nothing he could do about it. So, he chose to focus on the things he could affect – mainly, the items on his list.
After taking a deep, steadying breath, he pushed away from the tree and trekked inland. It was slow going, mostly due to the density of the forest, but Elijah was an old hand at picking his way through the wilds. So, he made gradual progress until the sound of a stream filled his ears.
By that point, the forest had descended into dusk, which made finding shelter almost as much of a priority as finding water to quench his thirst. Still, he trudged forward until he stumbled onto a small stream. It was only a few feet across, but it flowed extremely quickly across the rocks that made up the streambed.
Elijah collapsed next to the water, cupping his hands and taking a big gulp. He knew he should have taken the time to boil it, but he was hoping that the combination of his high Constitution and the healing power of Touch of Nature would be a match for any sickness that came from the microbes in the water. Regardless, he didn’t have much choice in the matter. Every piece of wood he’d seen during his trek through the forest had been soaked through by the incessant humidity and the frequent drizzling rain, meaning that he’d have to get lucky if he wanted to start a proper fire.
After drinking his fill, Elijah sat back and focused on the sense of One With Nature, and he was surprised to find that it was subtly different than it had been closer to the shore. Stronger, in some ways. But gentler, too. It was as if there was some sort of calming presence watching over the area.
And he got the impression that it would be stronger the further inland he traveled.
As curious as Elijah was, though, he was in no shape to investigate. Night was on its way, and he needed to find some sort of shelter before that happened. Being alone in the wilderness in the dark was one thing, but trying to sleep in the rain was even worse. So, he reluctantly pushed himself back to his feet and followed the stream uphill.
As he did so, Elijah continued to look for a hollow or an overhang that might prove to be decent shelter for the night. But to his eternal surprise and good fortune, only twenty minutes later he found himself staring at something wholly unexpected in such rugged country.
It was a cabin.
It was old, decrepit, and the roof looked on the verge of collapse. But soaked through, tired, and with night nipping at Elijah’s heels, the cabin looked like a godsend. He ambled forward, tripping over a root along the way, but he maintained his balance until he reached the wall.
The cabin itself had been constructed of a series of horizontal logs, with the gaps filled in with mud. The roof was of similar construction, but a layer of moss and leaves would provide insulation. A metal tube, rusted and barely holding together, extended from one of the walls, and Elijah reasoned that it must be the cabin’s chimney.
“Hello?” he called, sure that he was wasting his time. The cabin was in too poor of shape to have housed anyone in a long while.
That impression was further cemented in Elijah’s mind when he began to circle around the structure, and he saw that half of it had, indeed, collapsed long ago. He shook his head, wondering what had happened. How old was the cabin? Why hadn’t the owner fixed it? Where were they now? A hundred similar questions raced through Elijah’s thoughts, but there were no answers forthcoming.
So, he carefully climbed over the debris, making certain not to impale his bare feet on anything particularly sharp, and looked around inside. There wasn’t much there. An old pot that might be good for boiling water or, eventually, cooking. A rusted knife that didn’t look sharp enough to do anything with. And the remains of some rotted furniture. Altogether, it wasn’t much better than if he’d found a cave.
But for now, it would have to do. Tomorrow, he’d have to find food and a better place to sleep so he could regain his Strength and prepare for whatever came next. He still hadn’t decided if he wanted to continue his trek inland to look for civilization or if he wanted to stay put and wait for rescue.
There were merits in favor of either course of action. On the one hand, most survival guides would have told him to stay where he was and wait for rescue. There were plenty of exceptions to that rule, though, and, in any case, everything he’d seen on that plane suggested that the world had experienced significant upheaval. It would be a bit naïve to expect someone to rescue him.
But as Elijah settled down in the most intact corner of the cabin, curling up, he decided that that was a decision better made after a good night’s rest.