Chapter 42: Fish and Hunger
The town of Starfell was located at the center of a crater. It was protected by the expansive crater region’s unnatural mountain formations.
The land was surprisingly fertile, blessed by a river cutting through the region. Its isolation from the outside world also meant wildlife was sparse, making it as safe a place as one could hope for. Undoubtedly, this area was an ideal place to settle.
However, even the most fertile lands can experience severe droughts under unfortunate circumstances. The crater region, at one time, had fallen into just such a predicament.
“The last few seasons have been especially damaging to our crops. As a result, there were fewer and fewer yields over time, but our reserves kept us strong throughout.”
His eyes swept the scene, watching men and women resting in the shade, conserving what little energy they had. Many were growing emaciated from the town’s desperate attempt to conserve food.
“To think a drought would strike after the first storm had passed. I see now why many settlements fail to take root, even under similar ideal circumstances as ours.”
The observant man closed his eyes in deep thought. Behind him were a young boy and a young man, watching his broad back with concern etched into their faces.
The boy spoke up, his voice brimming with energy.
“If we go out to hunt some more, surely we could endure through the season! Wouldn’t you agree, Snide?”
The young man responded, sounding resolute.
“I must agree with Nova’k, Chief. The trek will be long, but if we use the river to aid us in our return—”
“You two are being foolish and naive.”
The older man rebuked the pair of youths in a scalding tone. His eyes reflected groups of exhausted men, having just returned from their foray outside the crater region.
“Do you think I had not considered the prospect before? The results of such efforts are already here, right before your eyes. See for yourself the struggles of your brethren.”
The young boy and the young man, Nova’k and Snide, watched the weary men who had returned from a hunt. It seemed that they were successful, having caught some decent game, but…
“They are tired—immensely so. There is barely any prey left within the region, forcing the men to trek beyond the mountains in search of game. Worse still, the river levels have fallen so low that rafts are practically unusable.
When they return, they do so on foot, exhausted, and must consume their share of meat simply to regain enough strength for the next hunt.”
“That…”
“That leaves little for everyone else to eat…”
“Indeed.”
The older man sighed as he rested his tired body on a wooden stump. The pair of youths behind him bit their lips in frustration, beginning to understand how deep their problem was.
For the longest time, as the seasons raged, they sustained themselves through hunting and fishing, conserving what they could of their crops. Teachings passed down from a wisewoman long ago also led them to dry-salt their meats so that they would last longer.
However, as they grew more reliant on this primitive method of food preservation, they began to run low on salt. To search for more would require many men to brave the mountain ranges for rock salt. They would return with only a meager amount of food that they would forage along the way back.
The hunters, on the other hand, could only bring back paltry sums of salt from salt licks from their forays, since they had to carry game back with them, too.
The town was trapped in a seemingly endless cycle of diminishing returns. It was a torturous position to be in for a settlement like Starfell that was home to far larger populations than most tribes could handle.
“... Is that one of the afflicted? Was he a member of the hunting party?”
Snide spotted a small figure among the group of returning hunters. An afflicted one—one of those born with the misfortune of remaining small throughout the rest of their life.
“Indeed. That is Spotter, the forager of the group. He has quite the eye for finding things. His talents have led his hunting group to find more prey than most other hunting groups.”
Spotter, an afflicted one, seemed to have been given a significant share of the meat they hunted this day. He gorged on his food, desperately feasting upon the meat like his life depended on it.
It was an unsightly scene, but his brethren among his group seemed to pay it no mind. This bothered the young Snide.
“... Chief, why does he seem to have the biggest share among them? At best, he is just a mere forager, is he not?”
“Do not belittle his efforts, Snide. Though his talents lie in foraging, he is no slouch. He has the best eyes in the group.”
“But that does not answer my question…”
The chieftain scratched his head, uncertain as to how to respond.
“... To tell you the truth, the afflicted ones are quicker to hunger than most. So, they often need more to sustain themselves.”
“But… can he not hold himself back some more? There are many others who need the food more than him.”
“If only it were that simple…”
“Huh?”
The chieftain, having decided he would not speak further, stood up from his seat and turned to the pair of youths. He placed a hand on their shoulders, giving each a glance at their expressions.
“Let us not dwell on this subject any longer. You two will have your turn to leave with the next group. Prepare yourselves.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Understood, Chief.”
Ồ̷͓͔͕̫̯̼͕̀̀̇̂͐͠͠ͅh̶̨̨̛̲̻̞͙̯̰̼̤̅̀͘͝ ̸̡̧̙̱̗͑͛̿̕d̸̲̜̲̼̳̮͋̎̈̀͂̌͊̄͘͘ͅe̸̳̘̦̳̾̍̓̀͊͒͘͝͠ȧ̸͖̠̦̮͓̓͗͆͛̎͊͗̓̄̓̀͗̀͘͜ͅṟ̷̢͍͎͛.̵̝̻̹̖̝̖̮̘̬̝͍̩̠͑̉͌ ̸̡̛̳͕̟̭͍͕̳̞͔̥͉̄͒͐̽̂͐̿̓͗̈́͜ͅI̷̡̪̱̹͙̣̪̜̓̔̒̒͐̋͜͜t̸͓̳̠͋̔͋̕͠ͅ ̷̡͇̠̞͙̪͎̻͈̈̍̓́̅̽͜ͅś̶̢̛̟̹͉͉͍̮̖̱̬̖͚̺̗̓̈́̑̃̊͗̚ḙ̶̥̣̻͂ͅě̵̡̙͈͛̇͒̋̚͝m̵̯̥̍s̴̨͈̙̦͍͇͔̭̟̹̤̄ͅ ̵̻̘̺̞̂̑͂͑̋̈́̑͌̀̑̊͌͒̕t̷̨̼̬̖̭̰̖͌̽̆͛́̽͐́̅͜͠ͅh̴̥̄́̈́̀̂́͘â̵̧͙̥̪̞̎͌͌̉̈́ͅt̸̢̛̛̲͕̜̲̟̭̣͙̹̙̆̑̄́̈́̔̈́̄̑͠͝ ̷͚͓͙̗̱͎͖̤̯͈̫̔͂̈́̉̾̀͒͑͛̀ͅͅy̴̢̤̟͖̘͚̝͂̇ͅớ̶̧̢̝͔̣̗̱͉̭͕̬̰̊̽̓̎͌̇̀̈́͐̽͌͝u̷͕̺͖̪̜̣̖̠̬̮̦̗̔̆̚'̴̢̡͎̱̣͕̩͖̫͈̫̯͍͍͛̂̈̉̇̎̅̿̃͗͋̌̏̕v̵̠͎̪̼̜͚̫̥̯̣̠͚̪̩͍̐̋́̌͆̍̑͆̍̏͋̚͠ȩ̴̥̩͎̫̲̖̗̙̈́̈̏̎͛͋̀͛̓̍̈́̕̚͜͠ ̵̧̛̲̳̞̟̲̹̼̳̣̝̪͖͓̿̽͂̉̔̍̈́̈́́̏̀̏n̴̢̼͙̫͒͌̊̎͌̉̚ơ̵̢̡̤̤̗͖̝̫͔̑͊͒͑͋́̈̽̕̚͘͠͝ť̷̥̤̘͈̦͓̥̙̳͌̋͂̕̚i̴͓̩̜͒̇̄̌̈͊̾c̵͍̜͖͌̈́́̓̃̚͜ę̷̦͕̩̽̔͊͘͝d̴̨̢̮̭̩͙̙͙̰̬̬̼̀̑͋͒̋̿̑͊̕͜ ̴̖̱̲͚͌́̓͌̔͘͝s̴̡̨̥̬̳͍͔̭̈́͗̀͆̐̂͌̈́͌͘o̶̱͇͖̓̇̎͂͂̓̅͌͛̊̐̕̕͝͝m̵̨̛̝̜͖͎̯͈͇̮͈͙̆͌̐͌̈́͝͠͝ȩ̴̪̟̻̺̥͕͇̠̎͗͑̇͌͒̃͜ͅẗ̷̻̦̝̞̻̹̭͈̗̃̐̿̈́̚͜͜ͅh̶̡̧̧̪͎̫͈̞̰̬̻̍̈́͋͒̓̿̂͜ͅị̵̝̒̈́̒̒̾͛͑͘n̵̢̛̯̻̰̩̼͍̞͙̗̜̄̎̅͑̈́͌ģ̵͍͉̠̭͓̖̳̰͔̩͙̣̮̘́̈́͑̓͘ ̸̨̩̪̠̝͉̳̺̙̲̾̉͒̎͘̕̕q̵̛̛͍̼͗̑̀̆̿͆̑̐̑̀͗̃û̴̢̡͕̱̜̜̞̬̻̣͚̏̒̏͆̈̄̂̚͜͠ͅį̶͚̤̹̲̣̭̦͎̣̹̺̗͆̐̈͒͌̀͠͝ͅt̶̢̨̲͎̯̬̼̹̪̲̱̎̐̃͒̏̏̒̎̑͂͛̕ͅë̵̩͙́͝ ̵̛̲̹̈́́͐̍̈́͆̀̀̀ů̶̡̠̜͚͕̪̼̗̻̺̝̀͂̓͆̌́̽̄͋͜͝ͅn̴͔̞̤̒͊̄̀̉̎͑͐̑̕͘͘͝͠s̶̛̲͒̅̓̅̓̅͘ì̶̢͕̖̙͇̼̣̠͉̦̮̹̲̯̠̉͋̎̌͛̔̋̆͑̿̂̏͝g̴̟͕̘̱̖̯̋̑̈̅̆͜ḩ̸̳̰͖͈̣̼͚͈͍͙̳̤̋̿̕ţ̶̖̞͕͚͔̞͎̫͓͋͂̓͑͆͐͌̄̈̽͑̚͜͝l̶̫̞̗͙̔͛̄͊͋͛̈́͐͒̎̈͘̕͜͜ͅy̸͍͉̬͚̙̱̩̖͚͛̋̆̃̇̏̈́̌,̴̺̱̯̟̫͓̙͚̝̻̹͈̭̳͙͆̀͗͂͂͑̏́̀ ̵̡̧̡̞̝̘͓̼̤̩̭̖̲͇̀h̶̭͛͛̕͝ą̵̨̢̛̩̖̳̼̖̗͉̜̺͖̑̇͒̊̐̈́̌́͘͠͝v̵̧̡͎͚̰͙͎̞̝̘̺̠̌͐́ê̶̤̰̜̯̗̪̤͎̬̰̼̥̣̩͑̀̂̉͊̄̿͊͛͝n̵̛̤̯̿̀͆̊̏͌͒̏͗͆̀̐͘'̴̖̰̦͚̞̜̭͉͍̤̗̲͂̄́̏̇t̵͎̯͂͋̇̆̑̅̇̑͗́̊̕͠ ̴̮̲̖͛̂̇y̵̨̛͇̘͖̦̙̲͕͍̯̗̹̺̞̓͆̅͌̈́̑̒̇̎͝ͅo̶͙͖̺͔͓̳̗̽͛͋̌̏͂̒̒́̀͘͘ͅụ̴͚̱̜͕̯̙̼̺̬͇͕͍͙̍̓͆̋̓̚͜͝?̷̛͚̊̏̓̑̐́͌̆͂̀̍̇͠
“Huh?”
“What’s wrong, Snide?”
Snide suddenly froze in place, eyes turning as wide as saucers. He looked around, searching for something, but seemingly lost interest after a moment passed.
“Uh… I thought I heard someone else speak.”
“Hm? I heard nothing.”
“You two should hurry along. Best not waste any time.”
“Of course.”
“Yes, Chief.”
The two turned around to leave. Little Nova’k left in a hurry, likely ecstatic about being part of the next hunting group, while Snide lingered behind, more hesitant before being suddenly called out to by the Chief.
“Ah, I just remembered. Snide.”
“Yes, Chief?”
Snide turned back to the town’s chieftain. The man, who had a body more akin to that of a bear, looked as though he was carrying an unbearable weight upon his shoulders.
“My daughter would like to see you before you leave.”
“...! Of course. I shall go to her side, right away. Then, I will join the group once I am done.”
“Good. Be on your way.”
Snide then left, practically sprinting towards a mudbrick building at the foot of the meteor that gave the town its name. At the sight of the eager youth heading for his daughter, the chieftain frowned, clasping his hands in prayer.
“Esphera, please grant mercy upon your children.”
Our group was on a trip, surveying the surroundings of Gnomewood. The reason? To see if we can help improve the gnomes’ living situation a little better.
We can’t just keep ordering take-out for them, after all. That would not only be unhealthy, but also unsustainable. So, we decided to look for ways that they could starve a little less.
During our little survey, we happened upon a clearly artificial stone structure by a small lake. The lake was somewhere between Gnomewood and Starfell.
“Tumble, is this a grave? This far out from Starfell and Gnomewood?”
“Ah, that is correct, benefactor. This grave has been here for a while now. I do not believe it belongs to any of the gnomes. We bury our dead somewhere else.”
“Huh. Then, this grave must belong to someone who came from Starfell.”
“May I take a look?”
“Ah, sure.”
I made some space for Esphera to approach the grave, stepping to the side. She crouched down, pushing the skirt-like part of her white robe into the crevice between her calves and thighs. Then, she placed a palm on the surface of the crude grave and closed her eyes.
Before anything could happen, I covered Tumble’s eyes with my hands, while Ori came over from the side to cover his ears. Naturally, this confused Tumble.
“Uh, benefactor, what are you doing?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“I can’t hear you.”
“You don’t need to know.” (Slightly Louder)
“I still can’t hear you that well with my ears covered.”
“Oh, right.”
White light began to radiate from the grave. Upon closer inspection of the structure, it seemed relatively well-maintained. Maybe someone was taking care of it from time to time?
When Esphera opened her eyes back up, the light dimmed as she grew a frown on her face.
“It seems that this grave belongs to a young woman who lost her life to illness. She seems to still have some lingering regrets about leaving for the afterlife too soon. There is someone whom she so deeply misses who still seems to be among the living.”
“I will say this in case you have any plans to, but you must not be so readily willing to entertain your worshippers’ requests, even if they still possess regrets in the afterlife.”
“... I know, Lord Yvell.”
Esphera stood back up, dusting off the edges of her robe with gentle pats. Then, she turned to face me, reciting what she had learned.
“If I grant such requests, they will come without end. Soon, they may treat me as lightly as a doormat—and regard life and death the same way. Without true consequences for their mistakes, neither they nor those who come after them will learn anything.”
“You learn fast and well as always, Esphera.”
“Thank you, Lord Yvell.”
Then, Graille approached, scanning the grave with curiosity. Surprisingly, she casually stood beside Esphera, with whom she was usually at odds.
“An afterlife… Perhaps I ought to consider one for my own worshippers? But that may prove messy once there are too many places to call an afterlife. Others that may come after us might choose to follow such a bad example.”
“Why not send your dead over to me, Graille? We could manage it together; that way, it would be a considerably lesser burden on both of us.”
“That sounds like an excellent plan, senior. I thank you for your consideration.”
“Of course. I am just glad that I could help my junior.
These two… Are they finally getting along?
That’s a very welcome development. But when did this happen?
“Weren’t you two always at each other’s throats? Since when did you two get so chummy?”
Thankfully, Ori, who shared my thoughts, unintentionally voiced my question for me. The two constellations exchanged a confused glance at first, but soon realized they were getting along better than before.
“Come to think of it, you are right. We have been acting quite unseemly.”
“Yes, Lord Yvell has been advising us regularly to treat each other more kindly.”
“So, what gives? Are you two going to answer the question?”
You’ve grown quite a lot bolder these past few days, Ori. Is this what desensitization to walking life-threatening entities like constellations does to a motherfucker?
Unaware of my rude thoughts, the two constellations turned their gaze towards me for a moment. Both of them smiled before giggling to themselves.
“What’s so funny?”
“It is nothing. We have simply gotten to know each other better, that is all.”
“Yes. We have a lot more in common than we think. And… Well, it would be better if we keep THAT a secret, would you not agree, Graille?”
“I agree, Esphera. That would be a surprise best left for later.”
This really is a radical shift. Their relationship went from neighborhood cats hissing at each other every time they crossed paths to schoolmates going out for karaoke after school on a Friday.
Whatever happened between them, they don’t seem willing to share, which doesn’t matter all too much, I suppose. So long as the two are getting along, that should be enough.
“Goo…”
“Hm?”
Sylvie, who was strapped to a baby carrier on Graile’s chest, seemed a lot more tired than usual. I wonder what happened to make that baby look like it aged a few years?
“Benefactors, could you please release me now? I do not wish to live in darkness and silence for all of eternity.”
“Oh. Right. Ori.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Ori and I finally released our hands from Tumble’s face. Shortly after, Tumble turned to us, chest puffed out, still sporting that glow-in-the-dark diaper with pride.
“Now, my benefactors! We came here to take a look at the lake’s fish population, no? I would love to have myself some cooked fish for an afternoon snack!”
“Fish?”
“No, not THAT fish, Esphera.”
The ultimate goal of this survey was to see if fish farming would be plausible with this lake. Should that be the case, that would be another thing to add to the sources of food that the gnomes will have access to, and add another avenue of trade with the Starfell residents.
The lake here was connected to the river flowing through the crater region. This was a good thing because it meant that the lake had a steady natural inflow and outflow of water, keeping the lake water fresh and preventing the water from stagnating.
With a few modifications to the place, this could be a long-term solution to the gnomes’ persistent food shortage issue. And skilled labor was something that the gnomes were best at. Though they might need help with some heavy lifting.
“If only they were more like dwarves…”
Dwarves are more like mountainfolk, though, while these gnomes, much like their fantasy-fiction counterparts, are currently forest-bound. That isn’t to say that they can’t live elsewhere. It’s more like Gnomewood was just the next best option they had.
“Whatever the case, it’s time to take a swim. Did everybody bring their swimwear?”
