12: Routine Of Ruination

A more refined routine took shape over the next few days, but remained pretty consistent. I’d wake up to find my bushy-tailed visitor invading my personal space, shoo it away unsuccessfully, then look for some food to add to my new storage pot. Finding ripe berries was always the highlight of my day.

Although I failed to create fire, I continued to collect firewood. I built an ever-growing pile near the fountain, even dragging some larger branches and dry logs back. I hoped it would eventually become a signal fire. Learning how to light one, however, still proved to be a Herculean task all its own.

In the meantime, I continued stuffing leaves into my clothes to stay warm at night. The corner pile in my hovel was deep enough to act as a bed and blanket if I buried myself during the colder nights. Heat had been rising every day, though, so laying in the cool night air felt nice.

A week passed after scaring away the little food thief, and I caught sight of my reflection in the fountain. I had to look twice at my scruffy, disheveled appearance. A tan from my sunburn that never stopped peeling replaced my pale complexion. Being stuck outside instead of bathing in the glow of my PC was a big change for me. The bags under my eyes were now permanent, too. I never quite got enough sleep, waking up repeatedly throughout the night in case something found me and I had to run. Splashing myself with water only helped so much, but my whole body was tired all the time.

Every day my routine passed quicker than the day before. Upon discovering more time to fill, I added daily trips to the wrecked church. Returning to the same spot where I landed in this forsaken place, I hoped and prayed for a way back home. Doors, or magical windows that didn’t actually exist in this case, should work both ways. Something had to work, right?

"Send me back! I want to go home!" Daily shouting left my voice raspy. "I just… I can't do this anymore." My voice cracked and almost petered out, but the voice never acknowledged me or my cries. "Please?"

My morning visitor, now accompanied by two small pups, sat nearby to watch my latest tantrum play out. For all I knew, it was using me as a teachable moment, showing them how not to behave when things didn't go their way.

Whatever…

It had grown accustomed to me, my crazy antics, and loud outbursts. I'd occasionally find the odd gift of nuts or fruit from it in the mornings. It also checked on me throughout the day. Even if I wanted to be alone, it always showed up at some point. Why it bothered wasting any time on me left me baffled. Did it consider me as helpless as one of its pups? I guessed it was more like pity for the awkward new resident of the ruins, its clueless neighbor.

"Well, what do you guys think? What am I missing?"

I huffed and puffed, my voice barely hanging on. The squirrel-fox and its two pups tilted their heads in silence. I didn't actually expect them to answer, but I’d been talking to them more and more lately. They were around, so why not?

"Yeah… That’s what I thought. I guess you’re stuck with me for a little longer. Rub it in, why don’t you—?"

A howl called out from the forest. Things had been so quiet lately, except for my shouts, that I'd forgotten all about it. My little audience tensed up, crouching with the fur on their backs standing on end. Compared to the last time I heard it, the howl was louder than I remembered.

"You know what? Just… Do it! Come and get me, you… you damn—Ahh!"

I grabbed a rock from the church's plentiful supply of rubble and threw it as hard as possible.

Clack!

It struck the pedestal with the jewel, and ricocheted off. I would’ve kicked it if I didn’t think I’d break my foot. Nearby trees rustled as my audience of three scattered into the forest.

"Good. Leave. Go home. I… I don't care."

The sun was setting, and I wasn't planning to stick around, either. I preferred to be closer to my hovel across the ruins in the evenings, anyway.

I looked at the pedestal again before leaving. There wasn't so much as a chip or a scratch where the rock struck it. The jewel shone in perfect condition from the top, catching the light of the setting sun with a sparkle.

"Time to play my game." The bitter memory of the voice's final words played in my mind. I resorted to cursing it with every name I thought of. The jewel's colors reminded me of the lowest stained-glass window in its precious church. If I couldn't attack the voice, I would settle on that instead.

Yeah. I just need a…

I struggled to lift a large rock with a grunt. Waddling, I brought it to the jewel, then dropped a sharp bottom edge with a thud. I heaved it back up and dropped it on the jewel again.

"You like that? This is… what I… think about… your stupid… game!" I yelled between breaths. The stone was heavier than expected. My act of vandalism took more energy out of me than I wanted to waste on it, but I repeated the action a few more times to smash the jewel to bits. When I figured I’d made my point, I shoved the rock off the pedestal and back to the ground. My hands, scraped and bleeding, shook as the anger faded. "W-what? No!"

The jewel was still in pristine condition.

"Why? Tell me! Why the hell can't I do anything right?!"

My futile attempt at rebellion left me panting, frustrated, and tired. I stepped away, glaring at the smug resilience of the stone from a distance. I hated it. One blink later, I was suddenly at the pedestal again, my left hand hovering an inch above the jewel.

"Huh? How did…?"

I wasn't sure what caused me to blank out, let alone approach and reach out for the jewel. I pulled my hand away, unintentionally leaving behind some drops of blood on it. The jewel’s sparkle blossomed into a faint golden glow. My blood vanished in the light.

Did it… absorb—Does it… want… more?

A nervous chill ran down my spine. I backed away. I didn’t plan to wait around and find out what happened.

"S-screw… this, and screw you!"

I had no intention of falling for whatever trap the jewel was supposed to be. I only looked back at the church again once after I left. The glow faded along with the sunlight.

Back at the fountain, I filled a pot I'd previously cleaned to wash myself and dipped a shirt sleeve I’d ripped off earlier that week to use as a headband. It kept my eyes clear of hair and sweat while foraging, and the water helped me cool down. Sitting on my bench, the fountain's basin, I rinsed off a few dirt-vegetables for supper.

"Stop it. Don't look at me like that. You would've done the same if… Well, you probably would have used your sword instead of cutting your hands with a rock." The statue kept its silent vigil while I vented. "I'm really gonna need that from you one of these days. Help a guy out, will ya? It's not like you're even using the stupid thing."

I'd already tried to take the statue's sword for myself several times by then. Whenever I saw it in the moonlight, the sword seemed mismatched to the rest of the statue's stone. The color and texture were just different enough to give me the brilliant idea that someone added it to the statue somehow. Besides, even a stone might be useful in the right hands. The 'right hands', though that probably ruled me out. I looked at my bruised hands and knuckles. They couldn't do anything right. My hands were apparently not the right ones for the job, or any job.

"No? Fine. Keep it." I popped a berry into my mouth and stood up. The moon lit the night sky and played peekaboo with the clouds. It was late, and I was tired. "I'm going to bed if you’re going to be stubborn like that. See you tomorrow—"

My voice vanished. My body froze. My mind went blank except for one word.

Why?