Hands of Fate - Survivors of Flight AA214

Chapter 32

Orion

Day 19 of Landing

Population of Thornhill - 53

With my Firewielder skill active, I lit the resin attached to my bundle of joy, a mix of plants and dried firecracker berries. I tossed the lit bundle of dried leaves into one of the scarlet fowl burrows and placed my stick cage over the entrance. Black, sooty smoke poured from the dark hole in the dirt, followed by one scarlet fowl hen and five of her chicks. As they scuttled into the stick cage I had built, I placed a piece of plank over the cage's opening and tipped it over. I secured the plank with two pieces of rope to hold my package in place. Using the rope as a handle, I carried the live creatures back to the camp.

Slate and Marek were busy constructing the blacksmith's forge, so Astrid and I took on another task. We built a small fence, about a yard wide, near the pigpen to house our new birds. I feared the mother wouldn't make it; she might try to burrow out. I carefully opened the plank covering the cage just wide enough for the chicks to pass through into their new home before sealing it. A college-aged woman with curly brown hair tied in pigtails bounced over, her puppy—covered in ivory fur except for its black-hooded head—trotting beside her.

“Good job,” Astrid said. Aja was sniffing the pen curiously, and I reached down to pat her before the dog jumped over the fence to sniff at her new wards.

“They are pretty aggressive,” I said. “They’ll try to burrow the minute they grow, so hopefully we can build a coop by then.”

“I’ll domesticate them before that happens,” Astrid said, staring at the noisy hen in the cage, which was crying out as she was separated from her chicks. “What are you going to do with that?”

“Smoke its wings and meat. Make broth out of the bones. I think I have enough feathers for a pillow now,” I replied, causing Astrid to give me a look of disgust, which confused me. “I seem to recall you weren’t a vegan.”

“You don’t have to be so cruel about it,” Astrid said shaking her head in disappointment.

“I try my best to kill it quickly,” I shrugged. “Anyways, we should work on the elk calf next. I’ll need you to come with me.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you have a skill to calm wild animals or something? I’ll get an elk calf, but I need you to calm it down,” I said.

Astrid had a plate of berries and worms, which she placed inside the scarlet chick pen, and nodded. Aja had jumped out of the chick pen and came to her side.

“Did you meet him again?” I asked. “The dealer.”

“Yeah,” Astrid showed me the card she got after reaching level 5 of Animal Keeper: Selective Breeding.

Selective Breeding

Whenever an animal under your care is pregnant, select from three random traits or mutations you want to promote.

I slapped her on the back, which elicited a glare. “Wow, good job. That’s an amazing skill.”

“You know I’m going to pick traits that keep my animals alive, right? I’m thinking about promoting the boar’s fur so we can use them like sheep,” Astrid commented.

“Good idea. We can double up on fur and fat with the pigs,” I said. Astrid’s face tightened.

“Is that all you think about when it comes to animals? Their uses as byproducts?” Astrid asked, a hint of frustration in her voice.

“We don’t have the luxury here of doing anything else. We have to exploit the land and the resources,” I responded.

“Snickers, Peaches, and Daisy are all so adorable. I can’t think about eating them. I’ll stick with fish,” Astrid said sulking.

“You named them?” I sighed. “Don’t get attached to food.”

“Where are we headed?” Astrid asked, falling into step beside me as we walked through the village.

“Ethan and Alex,” I said.

“Huh? Why those two?”

“Ethan can subdue one elk, Alex is strong.”

At the mess hall, Ethan was tending to one of Alex’s stitches on his bare shoulder, and I came over to explain the situation. I noticed Astrid eyeing Alex’s muscles while Ethan stared intently at his needlework.

“Sure. I’ll finally be able to do something other than making string,” Ethan smiled.

“Count me in. I can’t wait to ride an elk mount,” Alex said jovially, making Astrid swoon a bit.

After gathering supplies—specifically, food buffs wrapped in leaves and several ropes, one of which I fashioned into a lasso—we headed north.

Aja kept sniffing the forest floor and emitting low growls in directions we steered clear of.

I knew of few predators roaming these forests. There were the spotted yellow and black wolves, which I’d seen on my hunting trips. They were wary of humans and immediately ran away when they caught my scent. As we ventured further north, giant claw marks on trees indicated large bears roamed here. Using my Tracking skills, I spotted markings made by elk and followed them downhill to a meadow with a pond full of water lilies and reeds, where they were feeding.

JD, my jackdaw friend, watched me perched on a nearby tree as I hid behind bushes with Astrid. The elk herd, numbering a dozen, was at a small stream drinking and feeding on plants with their backs to us. To the right were trees, and to the left, were hills.

“I have a plan. Do you see that elk cow and her calves? I want you to move to those trees over there on the right and jump out to scare them towards us. Got it?” I whispered.

Astrid nodded, and I tied ropes around my throwing knives. With a bite of salted scarlet fowl meat, I felt a surge of energy—Flight of the Scarlet Fowl—boosting my sprinting speed by 10% for the next hour.

“When the elk approaches, Ethan, use Anesthetic Touch on the mother. I’ll trip her up," I instructed. "Then, Alex and I will handle the calves."

I handed Alex and Ethan lassos.

“They’ll bite, so be careful,” I warned, and the three of us waited in the bush for Astrid to get into position.

When Astrid came out growling like a bear, the elk were confused and only started moving away when Aja came behind and started barking, herding the elk toward us. The elk moved towards us at a brisk pace but not a full stampede. I moved back and readied my throwing knives. Targeting a tree trunk right ahead of the mother Elk leading its family, I threw the rope knife. When it lodged firmly into the trunk, I pulled on it.

Soon after, the elk cow tripped. Ethan ran out awkwardly and placed his hand on the thrashing elk with his skill, Anesthetic Touch, activated. The mother elk quickly fell into a deep sleep. Her calves skidded to a stop behind her.

Alex cast Holy Strike on a small tree, felling it and cutting off their retreat path. The four young calves, confused, circled their mother.

I tossed the lasso near one calf, but it missed by a mile. The calf got up and galloped the other way. At full sprint, while the calf was still recovering, I leaped on it and wrestled it to the ground. It bucked while I manually placed the lasso over its head and tightened it.

“You’re hurting it!” Astrid yelled, coming over. “It’s scared!”

“Come over here and help me,” I cried. “Settle it down with one of your abilities.”

The elk calf was still bucking while I held the lasso firmly. My hands burned until Astrid came over and cooed softly, calming the creature. After a few grunts, Astrid picked wildflowers and clovers and held them to the calf’s mouth. It flinched back at first, but slowly sniffed the plants and ate them. Astrid gently caressed the side of the calf’s face as it ate, while Aja came over and licked it on the nose.

Alex and Ethan had secured two more elk calves, and we repeated the process. We created a daisy chain of lassos to lead three calves—two males and one female—leaving the mother and one male alone.

“Do you want to name it Orion?” Astrid asked, petting the lead calf.

“Why me?”

“We made a deal, remember?” Astrid smiled. “The first mount I raise will be yours.”

“Let’s get it back first. I won’t name it until I can ride it. Otherwise, it might end up in my stomach,” I said, threatening the calf, only half-joking.

“Hear that, boy?” Astrid baby-talked the calf. “You better grow big and strong and let this mean man ride you, or you’ll end up as steak. I won’t let you end up as steak, no I won’t, no I won’t.”

The trip back was twice as long as the trip there. Astrid gently nudged the calves, her voice a soothing whisper as she coaxed them to move forward, though they hesitated at every step. Every time one strayed or resisted, Aja would come behind and bark, setting it straight.

“Do you think this will work? There might be a reason humans never domesticated elk,” Ethan pondered, his breath coming out in an effort.

“I want to try,” Astrid said, caressing the elk’s neck, which had calmed down after I tugged it along toward the camp. “My dream is for everyone to know about Astrid’s elk.”

“You realize that by the time that happens, we’ll have invented cars, right?” I said, smiling.

“They’ll be for nobility then. Like how only rich people own horses now. Cars are just so uncivilized,” Astrid huffed.

We placed the elk calves in the pen with the fenced-up chicks and the three piglets. I tied each lasso end to an individual stake near the middle of the pen. Alex and Ethan parted ways after this, and I was left alone with Astrid, feeding the elk calves who were restless in the pen.

“Why bother chaining them up? The fence should be enough,” Astrid said, frowning at the extra restraints.

I glanced at the flimsy wood, imagining the elk easily breaking through. “Trust me, these fences won’t hold for long. Once you’re confident they’re not going anywhere, we can ease up.”

Astrid observed the calf’s restlessness and sighed. “Fine. Just wait here, I have something for you.”

Wondering what it could be, I waited and examined the piglets. They were growing at an alarming rate. Their pale yellow fur was setting, and they were now the size of small toy dogs. Their food was mainly our discards, fish heads, and discarded green tops and roots. Their manure would be shoveled by Samar and the other farmers for the compost heap for fertilizer.

Astrid came back with a small lidded jar in her hands and presented it to me. “This is for you, Mr. Cook.”

I opened it to reveal golden-yellow syrup—honey.

“You got honey?” I said, surprised.

“Yep. The bees don’t seem to mind me. It’s payment for today, and I’ll make you more if you help me with one more thing,” Astrid said.

“I don’t have anything unless...” I asked, then realized something. “You sick perv—”

Astrid laughed gently and shook her head. “Make me beehives. I think I can plant their queen in another place.”

“We can make beehives out of clay pots or mud and sticks,” I said, nodding. “I’ll do it if you promise to give me one jar of honey per week.”

We shook on it.

Astrid, I think this is the start of a wonderful relationship.

Later on, I roamed the camp looking for Cass. He was sitting in the mess hall in front of Herman. The mess hall had become a sort of games room and rest area for the villagers. Some people were tossing dice, others were playing checkers, and others just hanging out at the tables getting a drink and relaxing with friends.

On Cass’s table, there was a board of wood with uneven cuts made by a knife that divided the board into 19x19 grids. On the board, irregular marble stones and irregular obsidian stones were placed in the intersections. The match was pretty even, but as Cass and Herman played, it looked as though Cass was teaching Herman. Cass was leading Herman into capturing some of his white stones, but Herman was wary despite Cass willingly offering them.

“You see, Hannibal drew the Romans in,” Herman explained, but his face was fixated on his board position. “Then his wings swung around... when those Romans were surrounded, it was a slaughter.”

“Why did they fall for it?” Cass asked. Unlike Herman, he was more interested in the conversation than in the game.

“Overconfidence. They had the numbers and underestimated their opponent,” Herman said.

“Never played Go before, Herman?” I asked, sitting beside my brother with my eyes on the board.

“I’m more of a chess guy, but this young fella wanted to teach me how to play this,” Herman said.

“He’s really good for a beginner,” Cass said. “He’ll beat me in no time.”

Herman smiled and placed a black stone on the board.

“Herman... I’m sorry about Clark. I know you blame me and...” I said after a while.

“It ain’t your fault, son.” Herman sighed. “I just wish I was there fighting alongside him. They made this magic world, and I’m stuck in this old useless body.”

“Are you going to come back to the council?” I asked.

“I realized when I saw that frog monster that my time had come. Magic cards. Monsters. I’m out of my depth here, son. I’m sorry... it’s not right to put this responsibility on you young’uns, but magic and monsters... it ain’t for me,” Herman said sadly. “I’m just a fisherman now. An old beat-up fisherman.”

“We still need someone experienced to guide us,” I said, hoping Herman would reconsider

“The answers I have are for a different world, different rules,” Herman sighed, his gaze lost in the board as if he wanted to bury his face in the board. “I’ll always be here if you need me. The road you have is difficult, but I know you young’uns have it in you to overcome it.”

After dinner, I headed to the beach. The pirate ship, now stranded close to shore with its black sails looming ominously, was finally brought in by the currents. Bianca came at my call, and soon every able body that could row a boat was rowing towards the sloop. On the ship, all twenty of us rowed the sloop closer to the shore. As the ship approached the sands of the beach, Alex and I took the mooring line to shore in a rowboat.

Meanwhile, Slate heaved a massive fridge-sized boulder onto the beach. We quickly anchored it with the mooring line, ensuring the pirate ship wouldn’t drift away. Back on the boat, Marek came to help four other men, including myself, lift an anvil from the ship’s forge near the stern. We tied the anvil with more rope and tossed it overboard into the shallow water. After a huge splash, I grabbed the rope tied to the anvil and brought it to shore, where Slate pulled it in. Slate then carried the anvil to the newly constructed blacksmith forge.

We looted the entire ship’s forge for our new blacksmith forge—bellows, tongs, hammers, chisels, files, a workbench, a swage block, tools, vices, racks, and several iron and bronze ingots. The pirate raid was a nightmare, but one positive it brought to the village was this ship and all its loot. Besides the forge items, we had empty barrels, fishing nets, bins, buckets, and other storage vessels that were being ransacked and brought to the village. I knew eventually we would have a shipwright fix this sloop, and then we would reverse the process, bringing everything we took back onto the ship. But for now, all this loot would help our village grow.

Just before midnight—or what we decided was midnight—the blacksmith forge came to life. The forge stood in a rustic log shack, its brick furnace resembling a miniature chimney, glowing warmly as the charcoal crackled. On top of a stump, Slate placed the ship’s anvil. We placed all the tools, racks, and workbenches inside the smithy. After installing the bellows, we added charcoal and watched the forge ignite.

There were a dozen of us now, including myself and Bianca, watching the process, while the rest chose to sleep or wind down.

“Who wants to be our blacksmith?” Bianca asked the crowd. “Classes are important, but it’s also important to want to do it.”

“Let me try,” an eager youth shot up his hand as if we were still in high school. The young man had short jet-black hair and bronze skin. He was a recent arrival I hadn’t met yet.

“No way! I’m going to be the town’s blacksmith,” another young man around the same age with the light brown buzzcut declared, crossing his arms.

“Shut up, Bart. I’ll be the blacksmith,” the first man said.

“You don’t know anything about smithing, Jesus. You work at a garage,” Bart said.

“Pendejo, we work at the same place,” Jesus snapped back. The two fought over the tongs to put their bronze ingots into the forge.

The two started fighting over the tongs. When they both got their bronze ingots into the forge, their eyes glowed blue, and soon after, we had two blacksmiths.

Jesus’ legendary skill was “Armorer.”

Armorer: Weapons and Armor created by you have increased durability and hardness.

Bart’s legendary skill was “Hammerer.”

Hammerer: With a hammer, bend metal and other things to your will. Hammers and war hammers will weigh nothing in your hands.

“Congratul—” Bianca clapped and cheered before being interrupted.

“Mine is way better,” Jesus smirked, looking at Bart’s card. “Looks like the dealer thought you were a weakling who can’t lift a hammer.”

“Bro, no fucking way. Yours is a bitchboy skill. Make me a good hammer and I’ll use it to crush the enemies in the dungeon,” Bart laughed.

“I ain’t making shit for anyone but myself,” Jesus said, then started hammering his ingot into a blade shape.

“I’ll make my weapons better even without your skill,” Bart replied, grabbing another ingot and placing it into the forge.

Thornhill finally got our blacksmith, or blacksmiths, and our smithy. Bianca and I would work on the mold for the first copper coin using sand and clay the next day. Bart and Jesus would melt down the copper weapons we looted from the dungeons to pour into molds, and we would finally have currency.