The swift rowing and splashing of water.
???: "Finally, a good spot."
The splashing of water comes to a halt before another deeper splash. A fishing rod's line has sunk into the ocean's depths.
???: "Hopefully this will have some actual fish… how annoying it has been with no fish back there. I even doubt that there was a beast in those murky waters."
The man hums a small tune as he waits patiently for some fish to fall for his bait.
A few seconds later, his rod trembles.
???: "Here we are…"
He jerks the rod a couple of times.
Something else pulls back on it.
He pulls on the rod with strength, as the rod pulls back suddenly. The man has caught a fish.
His scarred hands begin to turn and twist the handle, beginning to reel up the fish he's caught.
???: "C'mere, you little…"
As the man pulls with minimal strength, the rod suddenly jerks back. The water parts, water landing on his face, his face drenched in the aquatic liquid before him. He quickly grabs the twitching fish upon the hook, his hands expertly ripping the fish off.
The man places the fish within a bucket, alongside various other fish.
???: "That's… what, the 20th fish today? How much would a good haul land me? Well… probably around—"
The man ponders deeply about the amount of slimy fish he's caught, and his hands wipe the slime and brine of the deep onto the rowboat on each side of him.
???: "I'll probably need 23. Last time 20 had me still a little hungry."
The man releases his line back into the water, as he waits patiently once more, humming a tune from his past.
As he waits, his mind leaps back for a moment, considering what had led him up to this point. Whether or not it was worth it…
Yet, once more, the man's conviction shines bright within his soul. He remembers why he exists, what he has kept himself alive for, and why he cannot stop now.
His conviction remains strong.
Yet again, his fishing rod jerks within his hand. Quickly, he regains focus as he pulls the rod back, seeing if something has truly caught upon his bait.
Nothing.
???: "Damn it."
He reels up the line, checking if the bait is still there. As the line pulls up, another splash of water drenches the side of the small rowboat. In his frustration, the line rips out of the water, scaring any of the surface fish nearby.
How pesky.
He angrily rearranges the smaller fish innards back onto the hook, piercing it through once, then twice, then once more, ensuring the bait would not get lost within the rocks below. It had already frustrated him enough; he didn't need it to happen again.
He throws the line back into the water, this time deeper.
He awaits a fish, waiting in focus.
This time, he will catch a fish. The man is sure of it; he will not make the same mistake twice. His aim was sure, and his rod was precise.
Not again.
???: "C'mon…"
Suddenly, something powerful pulls back on the rod, catching the man off guard and causing him to lurch forward.
???: "Something big this time, huh?"
He pulls with his might, the boat quaking under his feet.
Something is coming.
He reels again, and again, the line zooming out of the water. Yet, despite his incessant reeling, the fishing rod begins to tremble furiously. His feet pull up to the end of the rowboat, his fingertips becoming white with effort. The man thinks he has the chance. He hopes it's a big one—
The rod snaps.
He tosses the fragments of the flimsy rod aside, staring into the deep blue ocean. His eyes darted across the open sea's surface, looking for what it was that contained such strength.
???: "Shit, okay…"
He takes a deep breath and dives in, the frigid water seemingly not prominent to him. Rather, what held his interest was the possible idea of a beast below him.
He cannot allow this chance for a meal to be led astray. He was starving, and the possibility of something so large awaiting his hands was something too enticing to pass up. He continued swimming through the water at alarming speed, encountering a sea beast. His eyes begin to gravitate towards a large creature.
Nothing far too large, but the beast…
It piqued his interest.
The man spots it, just as the beast before him spots the man as well. The water remains calm… Two predators have spotted each other. One from above the depths, and one from its briny clutches. Each creature is looking to score a meal.
Within this moment of calm, each of the creatures readies themselves. The man, bearing his fists as if claws. The beast bears its fangs, its scaly body slithering through the open sea.
The man dashes forward, the sea unable to limit his raw speed.
The beast opens its mouth before darting forward, attempting to intercept its newfound prey.
The man swiftly bolts to the right, dodging the beast's large jaws.
Though the beast did not let up.
Once more, its jaws appeared before the man.
The man dashed to the right, moving out of the way. The beast wanted to claim his flesh as a prize. His flesh as a meal, and that he wouldn't let happen.
The beast buffeted the swift man with its jaws.
Again.
Again.
And again.
Thankfully, the man's body remained brisk and agile enough to dodge each of its attempts at tearing him into bits and pieces.
It wasted its movement.
Its stamina was depleted.
The creature was an easy target.
Now that the beast was vulnerable, this was the man's chance. The man was aware that leaving it alive for too long, and in turn dragging it out, would lead to possible injury.
Injury he couldn't afford at the moment.
The man zoomed forward, his knee landing deep into the scaly beast's abdomen, leaving a bruise in its side. He began to smile. This beast was now his to consume…
Despite his blow, the beast remained conscious. The beast quickly moved forward, moving into a more stable position.
The man clenched his fists, preparing to fight once more.
The man had only thought of this as a one-and-done fight with the amount of strength he had put into that blow, yet the creature remained alive and, unfortunately, still uncooked.
The beast began to spin in a drill-like fashion and rushed forward rapidly.
In the beast's swift movements, the water around the man seems to constrict his legs, leaving him unable to push off the water… If he did try to use his arms solely to propel forward and out of the way, he would surely be eaten by the time he had escaped.
This could be the moment where he was reduced to pieces.
But he remained calm.
Confident, even.
In some inhuman manner, something akin to a snake, the man instead bends backwards, his innate flexibility working well.
The beast's lunge has missed, the man able to bend far enough backwards to completely avoid it. The man left the beast vulnerable. With one more powerful and brisk blow, he could end it.
And he would.
The man began to smile, knowing that he had avoided its desperate attempt at ending the fight quickly. The man is aware that the beast had suffered damage from the hands of the man and wouldn't be able to escape well enough now.
With the beast's lunge over. The beast had missed; The man's chance was now. He couldn't let something like this go.
He couldn't.
He wouldn't.
Not a chance like this.
The beast had yet to gain its bearings after such an aggressive dash, its mind still dazed. The quick man approached the beast, raising his leg past his head, his foot reaching into the small bit of light above him. His knee was now beside his cheek as his body folded.
He planned to end this now.
This beast would be put down.
The black haired man's warm blood flooded into the muscles within his leg. From the very heel to the hip, his body summoned might.
With this strike, he could end this beast.
Albeit, maybe overkill.
It'd get the job done.
The man jerks forward, his heel coming down from the light into the darkness upon the beast's head like an executioner's ax. The water was displaced at such speed and force.
A wet squelch.
A dry thud.
Vermillion blood seeps from the beast's nostrils—rivulets of blood diluting the water. The man saw it, and his face contorted into one of disgust for a moment.
But it was dead.
That's all that mattered right now.
The potent man looked upon the dead creature, its moribund body floating aimlessly in the water, its purpose now just as aimless. A sense of sympathy almost appeared in him. Though hunger pierced through that feeling. And through that hunger, something stronger clawed its way through.
Pride.
Superiority.
Victory.
He had killed a beast in one fell swoop, and its spoils were for him to enjoy. The man has bested the beast in its own territory. He buried that sympathy within the crevices of his mind and grabbed the beast by its tail. He began to swim upwards, the light beginning to envelop him wholly now.
Exhilarating.
The man breaches the surface, taking a deep breath and gazing over the blue horizon. It seems a bit hard to tell sea from sky, but it remained daytime still.
???: "Shit… wow. That was… something alright. I guess he was right. Fate really is in the hands of the beholder."
The man places the beast in the small rowboat. It barely fits with the man still within the boat.
The boat trembles beneath the dead beast's weight.
???: "Let's see here… how shall I cut you up and serve you to none other than I, Kurogane of Victis?"
Kurogane places his hand upon the rough and scaly skin of the beast, measuring its body with his hands.
Kurogane: "I see.. around 9 by 18 ft. Gotcha… Should serve me enough to eat for at least a day."
Kurogane grabs a fisher's knife—which is relatively small compared to the dead beast, the knife's size being 8 by 2 inches—and proceeds to slowly decapitate the beast and its fractured skull.
Kurogane: "With this… I don't think I'll need to fish much more, but…"
Kurogane's eyes glance towards the bed of fish within his barrel. The barrel is filled with fish; there are at least 19 in there.
Kurogane: "I think I got as much as I'll need for now. Regardless of that… This beast will be a real pain to clean. This'll take a while."
※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※
Kurogane cleans the blade in the salt water nearby. He couldn't manage to think about how much food he'd have to eat. It was splendid. Kurogane had a delicious meal waiting for him once he found a place to take camp.
Kurogane began to row, searching and looking for someplace to set up some form of cooking apparatus. He hoped that he could just scavenge around for some sort of seasoning once he got to any island, but that premonition was but a hope.
He had absolutely no idea if he could find some good seasoning anywhere…
As he aimlessly rowed into the sea, his mind travelled back for but a moment. His hands remained moving, his arms still working, his feet pushing back and forth within the boat.
But his mind was frozen.
It was somewhere else.
Memories of his drifted back.
Back to when everything was simpler.
His father, always caring, yet able to discipline. His mother, despite her perhaps… more incessant ramblings about why skipping rocks could power a boat, was a great mother. He had always been thankful for them. They were the anchor, keeping him stationary.
But was that stagnation really a good thing?
He believed it was.
Within this bubble of safety, he enjoyed meals that were guaranteed. Meals that would be assured. Meals that would never come after he had already begun to writhe with hunger.
His throat tightened under the weight of such memories.
Remembering such things, Kurogane seemed happy. He didn't have to worry back then.
Friends.
Family.
They all weighed on his mind, as if a chain were attached to his ankle. He was so cheerful back then. He was able to fish without the fear of being unable to catch, being unable to eat. His friends constantly competed with him over the silliest of things. Such as the size of fish that they had caught that day—Kurogane always seemed to prevail in those competitions—the next new item to find within stores, or debates on whether water was wet.
What began to dominate his psyche the most were memories of his father.
Within those, he found solace.
Though what pervaded his mind, interrupting the soft melody of memories streaming in from the crevices of his psyche, was the constant discipline of his father. His words drilled into his head at each moment. His father was a warrior, and he clung to such.
Each day, one more new move would be taught to him.
One more new technique.
Each week, one more new move would be practiced.
One more better technique.
Each month, a new test of strength awaited him.
One more stronger technique.
Kurogane toiled at his father's demand. He would keep his father happy and become stronger for the sake of the village. He would protect, just as his father had before him—
A thud.
Outside of Kurogane's deep introspection, he had run straight into an island.
Kurogane: "Oh."
He quickly stopped rowing, looking around. He was surprised and thought himself lucky.
He grabbed the oars, placing them within the boat. He grabbed some rope, wrapping it around the mass of meat that was the remains of the beast he had degloved. Kurogane grabs the barrel of fish within his other hand, lugging it to his hand. He placed the seafood on the sandy shore and looked for a small tree somewhere.
Kurogane: "Gotta find me some sorta anchor…"
Kurogane finds a huge log, grabs it, and walks back over to the rowboat.
It nearly drifted away.
Kurogane quickly rushes towards the small rowboat hurriedly. He didn't want to have to make an entirely new one. Again.
He grabs the rowboat, dragging it back to the shore of the small island. He quickly threw the large log atop the rowboat, effectively anchoring it until he was finished cooking and eating for the day.
Kurogane: "I'll probably find me some grains, perhaps rice, maybe some pepper. I could probably make do with what's on this island here. I strongly doubt there won't be an abundance of at least one item I could use to flavor this meat. Actually… Would it naturally have flavor? I haven't had a sea beast like this in a while."
Kurogane searches and scavenges around lush bushes and foliage.
Throughout his search, he finds little to no grains.
Although he does find seasonings in terms of nuts.
After he finds the nuts, he walks back onto the shore of the tiny island where he currently takes shelter. Kurogane places the various small seasonings he had gathered on his small hunt onto a stump.
Kurogane places a finger to his chin in inquiry.
Would this amount of seasoning serve well enough for the size of that beast?
There was only one way to find out.
And so, Kurogane ground up the various spices with a rock nearby. His hands worked carefully in an experienced manner. Clearly, this wasn't his first time making seasonings.
After the spices had been ground up, he grabbed a pinch and threw it onto the meat.
Then again,
and again.
He did not intend to underseason this meal.
He's had his fair share of times where he underseasoned the food, and it was… beyond disgusting.
It was abhorrent.
Kurogane wouldn't make such a silly mistake again. That'd be stupid. And yeesh… it tasted like dry wood on top of a piece of scaly fish skin. Which could be good… if you were to eat pure puke beforehand.
This time, his meal would be delectable.
Not to mention, came from a strong beast too.
He finds some tinder and arranges the larger sticks as a foundation, then the smaller sticks on the outside as the actual fire starter.
Kurogane couldn't help but fantasize about what the meal would taste like. He simply couldn't wait. Well, either way, he would. He planned to cook this to perfection, not too rare or well-cooked.
With two rocks smashed together, the stack of wood was lit ablaze.
Kurogane: "Man, I cannot wait…"
He fanned the fire with a nearby large leaf, nursing the small embers into an actual fire.
As the fire crackled, he grabbed a couple of longer sticks from nearby. Kurogane planned to set up the sticks to spit-roast the large beast. Though the only complication was whether the sticks would be able to hold strong enough for the fish.
As he paced around, dumbfounded, he realized quite quickly…
Kurogane could just cut it up.
The stupidity of this small notion left him chuckling to himself. Kurogane grabbed a knife from his bag—which contained miscellaneous tools—and began to dice the sea beast.
A couple of minutes passed, as the fire kept crackling.
Kurogane had finished cutting up the fish and grabbed a larger flat stone to rest the cubes of fish meat on. He rested the rock upon the open flame, his hands careful.
Perhaps a bit too careful.
In his delicate attempt, he dropped the stone, his fingers fumbling at the rock.
A small spray of cinders spewed from the bonfire, and Kurogane immediately dashed backwards.
He reeled away from the small cinders, yet at the sight of them…
Fear.
A ghastly memory whispered in his ear as he stared into the flame. Its flickering flame remained in place. Kurogane was frozen, and his body remained as such.
His mind, though?
Heating up as it raced back in time.
Memories flooded his mind, whether he wanted them or not. Memories of an inferno that raged on despite help, that raged on despite water.
Despite the clear water that day, the blaze only grew stronger.
Despite his efforts, the flames remained lit.
Despite his efforts.
Despite…
What remained in place of that was bitter spite.
Quickly, he snapped back to reality.
He looked towards the already-gone-out cinders on the floor. Realizing the fire was but no harm to him. He looked around.
He lost himself in his head.
Again.
Kurogane sighed. Fifth time today this has happened to him. Kurogane noticed this irregularity and thought for a moment…
This despondency is bad.
Regardless of that, he left it aside. Deciding on one thing he could do at this moment, rather than staying focused on that one particular moment, was instead to continue making his food. His stomach remained rumbling after all, and he would not deny it a meal well-deserved.
Kurogane watched the fire, crouched down 5 feet away from it.
The cubes were cooking, and damn did they look good.
Kurogane: "Cannot.. possibly wait.."
He scrambled to find some form of a plate and found a rock. He zipped towards the shore, wiping off the rock of any mess or rubble. He bolted back towards the campfire and placed the makeshift plate down.
Kurogane stared at the orange fire for a moment before…
Kurogane: "Shit… ummm…"
Kurogane was left dumbfounded at how he was supposed to pick up the hot rock. A stick would catch aflame. Another rock would just be stupid. A leaf would instantly turn into a fire.
Kurogane: "Well, fuck this."
He gathered his wits and just grabbed the rock.
Sure, it was insanely hot,
But he'd bear the heat if it meant eating some good damn food.
Kurogane, as carefully as he could possibly do this without dropping the meat, placed the rock down onto the sand nearby, and immediately after dashed towards the sea.
His hand throbbed with a nasty heat.
Kurogane: "Fuuuuuuck!"
He yelled as he shoved his hands into the sea before him. His hand was probably a little burnt, but it was a lot cooler than before.
Kurogane: "Let's see that damage…"
As he clicked his tongue, with a sharp "tch" ashe saw it.
Red skin.
Skin bubbling.
Bubbles full of pus.
Kurogane: "Damn it."
As he saw the damage, he walked back over to the bonfire in annoyance. This burn would require a bit more time than expected on the island.
Either way, his time would've been a lot longer than any other normal day due to the sheer size of the beast.
Kurogane: "Time to find out if the burn was really worth it."
Kurogane took a bit of the cubed fish and took a bite.
His taste buds melted beneath the flavor. It was beyond heavenly.
He slowly chewed the food, savoring its sweet, tangy flavor achieved via the seasoning and the meat working in tandem.
An unexpected synergy indeed.
He swallowed the food, finishing his bite. As he did, he smiled. A smile of joy. He had made a sweet meal from nothing and an annoying burn.
After a couple of minutes consuming the creature had passed, he began searching around for some sort of medicinal leaves. He knew of types of leaves that would help remedy most injuries, although, from his knowledge, Kurogane had no idea if the plant for burns was here. It could be in a more sparse area.
Besides, he needed to find one soon.
Rowing around with a hand like this would be a hassle.
Kurogane began to look around, holding his hand in contempt. It was a clumsy move in retrospect. He didn't want to burn the food; it was nearing perfection. Yet, the scarred skin didn't really hurt all too much. More of a hindrance it was.
As he searched around within the foliage away from the shore, he spotted a small snake. A creature such as that might serve well as material for a glove in the meantime…
Regardless of that small thought, this snake was nothing but a small animal in the way. He kept on searching for the medicinal leaves within the trees and ferns nearby.
After a couple of minutes, his keen eyes spotted the leaves at last.
A dark green, yet almost teal tint was the leaf's color. It remained stagnant and dormant. The thing about these plants, which made them more elusive than the rest, was the sensitivity of the leaves. If one were to be tampered with too much, then the medicinal properties would apply, thus enabling its healing. Though if perhaps a bug or ant put too much weight on it, the leaf would simply use up the medicinal properties then and there. Thus, rendering it as normal as any other leaf, its function used up.
He was lucky to find one untouched by nature.
Kurogane reached out his hand carefully, trying not to trigger the remedial leaf's properties too early.
His fingers carefully wrapped around the stem of the foliage before him, ensuring to keep his hand away from the leaf itself.
His dexterity would not fail him once more, as he surgically ripped the stem from the rest of the small plant. He then placed the leaf onto his scarred hand and took a deep breath.
This would hurt.
A lot.
He broke the leaf onto the burnt skin, as a searing pain enveloped the bubbled skin on his hands.
It felt as if the burning had begun once more, the pain as if an inferno had consumed his hand whole.
He grabbed his wrist in pain, attempting to take the fury of the heat again. It wasn't something he couldn't bear, and yet his eyes clenched in agony still.
The pain was rattling him.
The pain was straining his hand.
The pain was worth it.
Soon after the rigorous trial that was the healing of the wound, the pain began to wane. As he slowly removed the leaf, the transparent liquid that had originally emerged from the leaf was no more.
Seeped straight into the skin.
The bubbling on his skin had faded, the pus removed and recycled elsewhere in his body. All that remained of that harsh burn was the red skin and a small scorched feeling.
Kurogane took another breath, looking around.
Any animals that were originally nearby had left due to the grunting from his affliction.
A rustling…
A small rustling was in the distance.
Kurogane's ears perked up.
Before realizing, chances are, it's probably another part of this island's small ecosystem at work. His darting eyes focused back onto the path that he took to reach this secluded spot.
Kurogane: "Hm, snake probably…"
Within the cacophony that was this small island's forest, something as small as that would be nothing of relevance—
A piercing noise.
Kurogane immediately grabbed his ears.
A rumble.
Panic set in immediately.
People?
Dangerous people?
Friendly people?
All of the noises of the previous moments before him faded into obscurity.
One thing pervaded his mind.
Peril.
His legs worked to their finest as adrenaline filled the very veins within him.
He bolted far away from the noise, before once more—
A booming sound.
Large thuds followed the boom.
Trees have begun to fall.
Someone's on the way.
Kurogane had to escape.
What the hell could possibly be making trees fall alongside it?
What so large and encumbering could possibly knock down trees?
His legs increased the pace, as a crackling noise permeated through the hazardous situation.
His campfire must be close by—
A wall of flames lay before him…
A wall far taller than he stood.
???: "Don't run now, boy."
A deep voice shattered any sense of security he had left.
???: "This here island is mine now."
His neck craned backwards, facing a tall, daunting man.
His stature was that of the many trees nearby, and his muscles seemed as sculpted as a statue.
The fire wailed behind him.
The large man's clenched fist unfurled before Kurogane, as a ball of flame spawned from his palm.
???: "Struggle, boy. This is your last fuckin' time alive."