Chapter 15 - Slightly Suicidal
[Arc 1— No Light Left For Us]
….
River bank.
Ignoring the sharp stares of the other survivors, Mist looked at the roasted fish in her palms with a twinkle in her eyes.
[Rejoice]
[Nectarean Fish]
Her mind was screaming against the decision, but her stomach's growl only grew louder.
Against her will, Mist bit into the fish, her teeth reluctantly sinking into its spongy texture.
[Splendrous Carnage, Severants]
[Wicked Moon harkens]
A wave of nausea hit her instantly.
She forced back the rising bile in her throat and a line of tear dripped down from her eye.
'This… this is for my stubborn stomach. I don't have to like it. It's just sustenance.' Mist chanted in her mind as though she wanted to hypnotise herself.
Using the river scenery as distraction, Mist bit further into the fish.
Her eyes broke into tears.
She forced her gaze on the silhouette of the distant settlement and continued munching.
A while passed while she waited. Soon, someone approached her.
"I don't think I have ever seen you make that face." Hayden said, watching Mist incredulously.
He paused. "You know, Eden said the fish is an acquired taste— that it takes a while to get used to it. Bullshit. I have forced myself to eat more than ten portions, and it still tastes worse than shit."
"That's on you, unfortunately. You actually fell to Eden's words."
Mist released a chuckle, but what appeared on her face was a scream for help.
She spat out a chunk of the fish and inhaled sharply. "Eden can make a scary movie seem like romance. Her optimism is more terrifying than the monsters here," Mist said.
Turning to Hayden, she asked, "Do you want something?"
"Ahh, I came to apologise."
Hayden followed Mist's gaze to the distant settlement, unknown thoughts flickering through his eyes. "You were right… back there. We can't afford to be sitting ducks. The current camp is just as fragile as the previous one. It will only take one bad wind to tear everything apart again. We need answers."
"But..?" Mist asked, sensing the undertone.
Hayden might have the same opinion as her, but she guessed that's only as far it went. If he fully agreed with her, he would have had her back when she challenged the others.
If she remembered correctly, Hayden was as silent as a mouse during the altercation.
Hayden apologized. "I have to stay. I have to stay for Zoe. She is getting better. Sometimes, I hear her muttering, saying my name. I want to be there for her when she wakes up."
"I see… I should have guessed that." Mist glanced sideways.
He didn't have to explain himself to her.
Mist had not been offended by his silence back at the tent. Why would she?
The altercation at the tent wasn't anything to stew about. Their horrified and nervous gazes didn't throw her off. If anything, she found them a little funny.
She had merely been following her impulse. Her interest in the settlement wasn't for survival— oh no, she rarely did things for survival, where was the fun in that?
Whimsical… Mist's favorite teacher once called her that.
She quite liked the term.
After all, what is life but an amalgamation of whims and desire?
Lost in thoughts, Mist didn't notice the two approaching figures, Raven and Archer.
The two boys pulled a makeshift raft made from strong logs.
The raft was bound tightly by serpentine vines. It took them hours just to find the best vine to use, and even more hours to assemble their very first raft. Thankfully, Hayden had been able to cut a few gargantuan trees with his abilities.
The two boys dragged it to the riverbank, heaving slightly as they guided it into the water.
Mist finally spotted the two boys.
"That will do." She examined the raft, checking if it was reliable. "Take a rest. We will leave when you are ready."
…..
Time passed.
After a much needed rest, they were sailing.
Raven quickly realized he had made a mistake. 'I had thought it was just a river. But that one path seems endless, heading towards the settlement. Could it perhaps… connect to a lake?'
He gazed at the horizon, using his heightened acuity to perceive something… anything of substance.
Raven frowned. "I think we might be sailing for quite some time."
Across him, Mist laid peacefully at the center of the raft while Archer sat on the opposite side, paddling the raft together with him.
"Why?" Archer asked.
Raven replied, "The distance to our destination is hard to measure. Now that we are away from the river bank, I believe that the river path might connect to a lake. A rather big one. The journey might take an hour, give or take."
"I don't mind." Archer said coolly, "I must say, I have my preconceptions about your sigil, but no more. You clearly have your uses."
Raven's mouth twitched. Now, the pretty boy was doing too much. He had a way of saying things that just sounded fake and a little bit condescending.
Sure, he could see, hear, smell further. But that couldn't beat the ultimate alien survival sigil that Archer awakened. If anything, it made his ability seem weak.
He really wanted to meet the person up there that gave him the sigil. He had a few— obviously polite— words to say… good reviews and all.
Stirring from slumber, Mist said in a raspy tone, "Look down on my buddy all you want, but together, we make an unstoppable team. We might not have the flashiest innate skills. We might probably… possibly possess the messiest of the lot. But we have something that most of the others don't—"
She took a pause before bragging. "—we are ultimate cockroaches. My partner and I… don't underestimate us. You have seen the things we have. If I were to tell you, you might die of shock just by listening."
Her words certainly piqued Archer's interest.
The pretty boy dropped his paddle and turned to Mist. Intrigue written on his face.
"I have heard rumors of your group's experience."
Mist scoffed with a smug face. "That doesn't do us justice. Right, Raven? What do the others know?"
"..." Raven shrugged.
Mist's voice rose in confidence. "Hmmm… let'see. What do the rumors say? That we survived days in the forest alone with monsters? That's true. But not everything."
She stared right into Archer's eye. "It is true we survived in the forest. We ran from camp on d-day, chased by a ballich or two. Then, we fought against hunger and despair… and eventually found the Damned. We killed a bunch of the perverted pests."
"Oh also, we found the penitent son in its raging wakeness… it's wrath challenging us and we survived. We survived against a force of nature. Against what can only be described as the deity of tempest. The devil's foreman."
"And then went on to kill a few pesty galliches along the way. We did not get to the new camp without leaving trails of our blood. And splinters of our terrors on the wicked soils. So believe me when I say this, we don't need the camp. They didn't save us, not now, not before."
"The point being…" Her voice, cold and unfeeling. "I might be slightly suicidal and crazy, but believe me, I am not scouting for death, Archer. I hope you understand that."
Archer replied firmly, "I have no such thoughts."
Raven kept silent as he thought about past experiences.
Perhaps Mist had exaggerated on some events… okay, maybe a lot of events. For starters, they survived so far without killing anything. They were not capable of hurting monsters— it was a kind of weakness that was almost a sin. Their helplessness.
But yes, looking back at things, they had been through a lot. And he suspected much more was to come.
It's called Murphy's law for a reason.
….
Soon, Raven stopped paddling. The red night had gotten darker and foggy. Blackness coated the surrounding, leaving nothing but the callous red lights falling from the sky.
Raven looked ahead, his senses briefly making out the structure of mounted silhouettes… and something more.
He took a deep breath, and said, "We are here."