Time passed like it always did here…slow, heavy, and rude. The sun crawled off behind the horizon, left a mess of orange and gray, and then finally dipped below the horizon. Darkness came quickly, swallowing the whole damn place without even a warning.
Aunt got up and quickly lit up the central hearth in the middle of the hut, it crackled wildly, and its orange glow licking the walls in a wild dance, smoke curled up and escaped through a hole in thatched roof.
She smiled softly at him, and said," wait a bit for them to come and then we'll eat together", he nodded.
She went further and lit up a hollowed clay cradle filled with melted fat, a twisted plant fibre wick burns with a steady yellow flame. Unlike the hearth's wild dance, the lamp's glow was calm and soft.
Finally out the house, she lit up two resin-soaked sticks leaning against the wall, their flames sputtering and spitting.
Fire was the most essential thing for humans in the primitive times, it was the deciding factor, whether they would live or die. As it helps them keep warm, cook food, and deter the wild beasts.
After that she went back to her small corner and continued to work, but this time instead of pottering, she started weaving baskets.
He looked outside and it was damn pitch black, without a flicker of light, even the moon and stars seem to be hiding today.
And with the dark came the sounds.
Not some peaceful jungle playlist, but goddamn, howls, growls, and that faint whistle of wind through trees that sounded way too much like whispers of something unseen.
Here the wilderness had its own soundtrack, and it definitely wasn't calming or shit like that, well, it could scare you shitless.
A distant howl that didn't quite sound like a wolf but close enough to make his neck stiffen.
Something else growled.
Something else answered back.
Yeah, fun times.
The wilderness had a way of making a man honest, stripping away that fake confidence city lights used to give.
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't scared. He was fucking terrified.
It was wilderness, man. The real deal. Not your forest park with signboards and benches. Here, It was pitch dark, and anything with teeth could be out there right now, sniffing around and no one would even know your name.
Humans weren't top of the food chain here. They instead were just pieces of delicious walking and talking meat.
The thought of that thing from before… that nightmare from the Bloodstone raid.. flashed in his head.
That walking tank of a monster with claws the size of knives and a mouth like a woodchipper.…the monster that tore through men like they were toys…and he gulped. Yeah, if that bastard showed up again, all his grand plans about "building civilization" would end up in a beast's shit pile by morning.
"Right. Civilization builder my ass," he muttered. "I'm gonna die in the next chapter at this rate."
So yeah, maybe it was smart to stay real quiet and not end up as a late night protein snack.
He gulped, pulling the fur tighter around himself. "one random beast walks in and that's it. End of my epic saga. 'Here lies Sol, eaten before the prologue even finished.' Real inspirational."
He sighed, trying to convince his heartbeat to calm the fuck down.
Just as he started thinking he'd die of stress before sleep. Suddenly, the door curtain rustled… a soft rustle of hide and reed…
He suddenly froze, and almost had a mini heart attack.
But soon, various familiar voices drifted, hearing them he breathed a sigh of relief. "Damn! Scared me," he muttered indignantly.
Hearing the voices, aunt also stopped her work and looked towards the source of voices.
Lyra's daughters had returned, yes, did I mention, she had three ravishing daughters? I didn't? Maybe I had forgotten, damn so many memories to organize.
He sat up, adjusting his earlier scared shitless self against the wall, as they entered one after another. The flickering firelight painted their faces with shades of amber and shadow.
The first was Arelia…22 years old, tall, composed, with that same calm expression Lyra had, honestly she was spitting copy of Lyra only younger and less mature but still had her own younger charm.
She was the "eldest sister responsible for everything" type. She carried a basket slung against her hip, filled with fruits, wild greens, and what looked like herbs. Her dark hair was braided neatly, feathers and beads swaying softly as she moved. Her eyes found him instantly, scanning, assessing, and softening.
"You're finally awake," she said gently, setting the basket down near the fire, and hurried to his side "That's good. I was really afraid, you know, thanks mother Ossuaria!"
Her voice was warm, measured, like she was talking to both him and herself… the kind of tone that could calm even the forest outside and the restless thoughts roaming in his mind.
Before he could respond, a scoff cut through the air.
Veyra, the second daughter, 20 years old, stepped in right behind her, tossing her short black hair back and letting out a small huff. "Awake and already lying around again," she said, dropping her bundle of firewood with a loud thud. "Guess near-death didn't teach you much about pulling your weight."
Sol blinked at her, caught somewhere between confusion and amusement.
"Nice to see you too," he said dryly.
Her lips twitched, almost forming a smirk before she rolled her eyes instead, because apparently eye-rolling was her main form of cardio. "Try not to pass out again."
He couldn't tell if that was actual concern or sarcasm disguised as concern. Maybe both.
And then came the youngest.
Liora, 18 years old.
She slipped in quietly, smaller than the other two, wide-eyed, still looking like she hadn't figured out the world was cruel yet, her arms full of berries wrapped in a leaf bundle. Her hair was messy, strands falling into her wide hazel eyes as she glanced at him…then froze.