Day 18

I entered my meditation that night, tired, but satisfied, I had just obtained more food, and it wasn't bland to the taste. I entered the pitch-black void, and felt cold tile beneath my feet, looking down I saw a glossy, white speckled tile beneath me, instead of the matte black darkness. Walking forward I felt the wind brush past me, a little cold, more refreshing than freezing, and the wall started to fade into existence. It was opalescent, slightly glowing and changing colors, beautiful and growing large. I walked up to it, a grand doorway emerging from it, opening to the forest beyond. Stepping through, I felt a gust of wind, and smelled the scent of spring, wafting my way, turning back, the wall had already disappeared, replaced by more forest.

I started walking down the soft path, it was looking more and more well kept, there was a clear delineation between the path and the forest. I kept walking hearing more noises than before, form many different bird calls, to the rustling of leaves from squirrels and chipmunks playing around. I was smiling to myself, enjoying my nice walk through the forest, almost forgetting I was meditating, imagining this all. Soon I heard the rumbles of the waterfall, eventually, it came into view, beautiful and majestic.

It had grown again, now standing 50 feet tall, and stretching over 20 feet across. It came crashing down into the small lake, almost a mile around. I saw in the distance a river the lake fed into, lazily turning out of sight. I saw a bridge of stone stretching from the bank to a small island under the waterfall, covered only in grass and water gushing down its sides. I slowly walked forward following the path to the bridge and crossed, the stone was rough enough so I didn't slip, and I crossed with ease, eventually making it to the island, feeling the soft waterlogged dirt sink beneath my steps, and lightly squelching as I walked. The water was cool, and the ground was soft, and I sat down, sinking a half-inch into the ground, and started to concentrate.

Beyond my expanded mindscape, I had no strange dreams, no half-forgotten rants, just a blank slate of a dream, and I woke up refreshed. Looking at the Manaphage, I noticed it looked even more like a clenched fist, it had shrunk to match the size of my other hand, and there where lines and indents where fingers would be. I was hopeful and tried to exert some force to open it like a hand, and instead of feeling nothing, like usual, I felt resistance now, like I was pushing my fingers against a rock gauntlet. I was excited, and grabbed my phone, hoping to see some change in it too. Unfortunately, there wasn't too much of a change, only now there was a vertical bar on the right side of the screen, about 80% full. I was a little worried, thinking it was the battery, but I checked an hour later, and it looked like it hadn't changed at all.

I looked over at my cooking rack and saw that the meat was still there. As I got up I caught a whiff of the cooked meat, and I was salivating. Sure I didn't smell the sweet and spicy like I was expecting, but low temp, slow-smoked meat always smells good, and the smell of fat that had dripped helped accentuate the smell. I took a carapace shell I had and quickly washed it with snow, and dried it with the Manaphage, and took the meat off the fire, and placed it on the improvised plate. I grabbed my knife and cut into the meat, it was tough, and I had to brace it with the Manaphage, but was able to cut off a bite-sized chunk, and took a bite. The juices of the meat ran down my chin, the flavors intense. I quickly cut up the rest of the slab of meat into manageable chunks and chowed down, drinking water with the Manaphage as I did.

I sat back, after the filling breakfast, full and happy, planning out the rest of my day. I was going to have to sharpen a bunch of thick sticks, for the spears and for my pit trap. I should get to work on tanning the pelt and wings I had if I remembered how. I needed to climb back up the mountain and walk along the edge to see if I could spot anything odd in the distance around me. Lastly, I really needed to find a source of vegetables or fruits, because an all-meat diet supplemented by magic was not too healthy. Also, I need a bath or shower, or something, finding a real water source rather than freezing cold snow would be nice.

I got up after an hour of sitting and got to work finding, even more, sticks for spears and spikes. It took a while, but I was able to find a couple of dozen sticks that matched my specifications. I placed them next to my lean-to, so I could work on them before bed. I moved the coals aside and started digging out the ground beneath the fire pit. After digging out a hole, about a half-foot deep, I used two pieces of the carapace to seal a brick-sized chunk of meat, and proceeded to bury it and moved the coals back over it, and started the fire back up, hoping to cook it slowly and maybe make it softer.

I looked at all the leather and bones I had to work with and sighed to myself, I really didn't remember how to tan it, besides having to clean it and boil it in wax or something. I didn't have wax, nor oil, or anything else really. I figured I could slowly test out a couple of ideas, and I froze the rest. I cut up several sheets, and rolled the rest up, getting it ready to be carried up with me. I then started to clean all the bones, scouring them with icy water and a leafy branch I had found.

It took a while, but around the time the sun was sinking in the sky I was pretty much done cleaning everything and started to walk back up the mountain, the leather bundle under my left arm, a thick spear in my right hand being used as a walking stick. It wasn't as treacherous as I thought it would be, but I did almost slip several times, and dropped the leather once, and had to awkwardly pick it back up. Eventually, I reached the plateau and took a short break to examine the landscape, and bury the pelts, the snow was about seven inches deep, and hard-packed, allowing me to walk on top of it occasionally. I walked clockwise around the plateau for an hour, all the while looking out across the forest ocean, hoping to see some sort of sign of life, or anything different, nothing, only the occasional patch of trees missing, but all of those where several miles out, and I still didn't know what the one I saw was.

The sun was slowly falling in the sky, and I had to head back, the smoke from my campfire helping guide me back. It took another hour but I got back, checked the pelts, they were already starting to harden and slipped and skidded my way down the mountain. I grabbed a piece of meat and started t roast it over the fire, whittling away at my spears and spikes well into the night, only stopping to eat then meditate and go to bed.