Chapter 46: To Change a Heart
Fallen Star was immensely troubled by the severity of their situation. The town was suffering like never before.
Violent seasons, through which few crops could survive, ruined harvests. Following that came a drought that further reduced yields. The granary reserves were barely keeping the people of Starfell alive through it all, but they were severely stretched thin.
The population of Starfell was considerably larger than any other settlement because it was the first and most successful beyond the Evergreen Plains. The settlements beyond Starfell were smaller tribes that had branched out from it.
Unfortunately, being larger than most settlements also meant more mouths to feed.
Technology was still in its early stages, which meant their options were limited. Some primitive food preservation methods existed, thanks to a certain wisewoman from long ago, but there was only so much the people of Starfell could do with them.
The choices that remained for them were few, and some even cruel. The most tame among them, trade with neighboring tribes, could only bring in so little, and with transportation technology still limited to crude log carts, without a beast of burden to help pull the cargo, that made it a less appealing option.
Many settlements in Elynthys had yet to adopt beast taming as part of their skillset. One might wonder why, considering that early human civilizations on Earth quickly integrated beasts into their ranks.
The reason for this wasn’t due to their incompetence or lack of access to domesticatable animals that could serve as livestock or beasts of burden, but due to their religious beliefs getting in the way.
The introduction of fire-starting and cooking into humanity’s skillset, through the direct influence of Yvell and Esphera, further deepened the devotion of the common Espherite to their Goddess. As the practical uses of fire expanded, so too did its emphasis within their faith.
Early Espherites believed fire to be a form of holy energy—one that kept beasts at bay and brought warmth in the cold. This development was both a blessing and a burden. Their growing reliance on flame saw it increasingly turned against beasts, and reinforced humanity’s existing fear of the wilds.
Yes, reinforced. Neither amplified nor intensified. Simply reinforced.
“Meat Cooker! Roast it alive!”
Fuuuuoooosh!
Eeeeeek!
The efreet that a man had named “Meat Cooker” puffed up its fiery chest before releasing a wave of fire through what looked like its mouth. The fire engulfed the winged cow rex, who couldn’t move away in time due to its excessively large frame.
One of the most terrifying aspects of being burned alive by a flamethrower—magical or otherwise—is not merely the flames themselves but what they do to the body’s ability to breathe. Superheated air and toxic gases sear the lungs and airway upon inhalation, cooking the victim from within even as their skin is reduced to blackened char by the inferno.
Death often comes not only from the burns but from suffocation, poisoning, or the destruction of the lungs long before the flames finish their work. This is what made felling beasts of a fake dragon’s caliber possible.
Eeeeeek…
THUD!
“Nice work, Meat Cooker! The foul beast has been slain!”
Fuuuuoooosh!
The group of hunters gathered around the corpse of the beast. Some kicked the beast out of frustration or spite—mostly its udders, as most other parts would hurt to kick—while others began carving out its thick, lightly charred, scaled hide. The shaman who summoned Meat Cooker, on the other hand, fell into prayer.
“Esphera, we thank you for your protection.”
After the angrier hunters had finished their venting, they joined the others who were carving out the corpse for its materials. Among those dutifully carving out the hide was a young man named Snide, who was well-respected among his peers for his obedience and his keen senses and even keener mind.
“... Beasts—the enemy of men. How dare those foul creatures encroach upon our lands and try to slay our kin? Praise Esphera for the efreets who protect us even now.”
“Won’t those lizards learn this is sacred land already? I find it troublesome that even amidst a drought, we must rid ourselves of these creatures routinely. They seem to quite enjoy starting nests in the forests nearby, but avoid the strange-looking forest.”
Snide, who was listening to the senior hunters talk amongst themselves, chipped in with his own thoughts.
“Would they not see this region as safer than most lands, just as we do? The mountain lines give us natural protection from the wilds, and the land here is most fertile for those scaly winged ones to feast upon nature’s bounty. It is no wonder they covet our sacred land.”
“The scaled ones feast on plants?”
“I have seen some do so on occasion. Though I do not believe it to be their main diet. Perhaps it is a means of staving off hunger, much like we eat tree bark to achieve the same effect?”
“Hm. Perhaps. You are truly wise, Snide.”
Snide, out of embarrassment, scratched the back of his head.
“No, no… You are being lavish with your praises.”
Normally, human perceptions of animals would have leaned toward caution rather than outright fear or hatred. However, the deeply rooted belief that Esphera’s flames protected them from beasts—long regarded as enemies—made it difficult for the people of this world to accept the idea of beasts standing alongside them.
Had the humans of this world learned to tame beasts, they would have gained not only another avenue for food and resource production, but also greater efficiency in farming and even trade. After all, one of humanity’s greatest contributors to its long-term survival has always been beasts that provide both sustenance and labor.
Without such beasts within their communities, the humans of Elynthys struggled far more than they should have to survive, despite the protection of their most revered Goddess. Predators were not their only concern; in many ways, nature itself proved just as hostile—if not more so.
Starfell’s ongoing drought was one such case.
“... This drought. I wonder how long it will last.”
“I hope it ends soon. The chief had long forbidden the loving act of procreation for fear that children would die in their mother’s bellies amidst the famine. I had hoped to start a family with my lover soon, but that may have to wait for far longer.”
“Assuming we last that long.”
“... Do not speak of doomed futures yet. By Fallen Star’s wisdom, we have yet to lose one of our own. Most settlements would have fallen far sooner in our place, so we are quite blessed to have him as our leader.”
“Perhaps not yet. But soon, would you not say?”
“...”
Among the few remaining options for the people of Starfell, each was cruel in some way, and unlike the first one mentioned, none of these were easy choices. The first of these choices was to gamble with their lives.
“Perhaps it is time we move to distant lands? I doubt other tribes would take us in. I also do not think we have enough food for such a trip. But would it not be better than wasting away?”
“This is not only our homeland, but also sacred ground. Would you forsake the fragment of the Holy Star herself?”
“Would the Ringed Star Mother want for our people to die of starvation, shaman?”
“... I would think not. Her love for us is boundless, so she protects us with her efreets, after all. No such beast could hope receive the depth of her love.”
“Hear, hear.”
“... Do we not have yet another option?”
“...!”
The last option that the chieftain wasn’t so willing to choose, out of love for his people and his desire to live up to their expectations, was… a culling of numbers. Cast out the weak and elderly so that the young and strong may feed.
“Do not speak so openly of this topic.”
“But… what other choice do we have? Our reserves are so little that I doubt we could manage a mass migration at all. If we could trim our numbers, maybe remove the old and sickly ones…”
THUD! KRAAUNCH!
A portion of the tree burst apart under his punch, fibers screaming as his fist tore through the wood. Blood dripped from shredded knuckles, streaking down his arm as Snide’s bloodshot glare burned into the hunter who had dared utter those words.
His mouth twisted open, fangs bared, all restraint gone.
“Speak one more word, and I will tear that tongue from your throat with my very hands.”
“...!”
“...!”
The hunters, all older than him, shrank back at the sight of the normally calm, obedient Snide—his rage erupting the instant such words left one of their mouths.
He flashed them a look of disgust before turning to leave, leaving a trail of blood as he left. The hunters that remained let out a sigh of relief as his figure disappeared into the shrubbery.
“You fool! Is your mind so dulled by hunger that you would speak of such topics before Snide of all people?!”
“What? What did I do wrong?”
“Do you truly not know? Snide’s lover is the chieftain’s daughter, Lune. The pale, sickly beauty who has been bound to their home since the drought came on.”
“I had no idea she was still alive. I had thought her dead, since I had not seen her face in ages.”
“... Ignorance is a sin, friend. And you are a sinner.”
“Oh, shut your trap! Why do you even care who has hooked up with whom? I am not starved for a woman’s affection, unlike you.”
“Would you prefer a spear down your throat or an arrow between the legs?”
Sigh.
A smaller figure among the hunters let out a sigh at the pitiful sight of the men arguing among themselves. Normally, on hunts or foraging missions, they would keep such thoughts to themselves, knowing that even a hint of discord could endanger their chances of survival.
Stoicism had long served as a survival mechanism, even in humanity’s more primitive eras. Yet, perhaps because their future seemed so bleak, their worries began to slip through the cracks in their hearts’ armor, desperate for any reassurance that their fears weren’t as dire as they appeared.
He hopped off the fake dragon’s body and landed on his two stubby feet, catching the attention of the others.
Though small, he had gathered enough experience from missions like these to know that Snide could be in danger if left alone too long. He glanced in the direction the young man had gone before preparing a stern scolding.
“Close those stupid mouths and keep your wits about you. I will go after him. We cannot leave him alone to fend for himself should danger arise. You lot continue carving up the lizard.”
“Will do, Spotter.”
“Be careful. Shall I lend you Meat Cooker for the time being?”
“The efreet will be unnecessary. I will bring him back to the group as soon as I find him. Snide is a reasonable young man, so surely a few words will be enough to convince him back.”
“I understand. Be safe, spotter.”
Spotter gave the group a quick nod before following after Snide, pushing his tiny form into the thickets.
The competition and the details behind the rules are something I’d decided to set for later down the line. After all, as things stand now, should a competition start between two constellations, I’d think the constellation with the far larger base of worshippers to draw faith from would win without question.
It was clear that Graille was still significantly far behind in that respect, so it was best to give her more time to establish herself. So, we agreed that once we settled Esphera’s issue, I’d return to helping Graille out with further deepening her roots, so to speak.
Speaking of Esphera’s issue, some time had passed since our last visit to Starfell, and it was about time to see whether things had finally improved there.
Surely, the spell stones would have done much of the legwork in improving the gnomes’ reputation by now. Practicality always trumps irrational hatred, and the spell stones were far too useful to be discarded over some petty resentment.
“...”
“Grrr…”
“What’s up with those two?”
Ori walked up beside me, curiosity written across her face, having witnessed the once‑friendly goddesses now at odds with one another.
“They had a little argument last night. Some miscommunication here and there and… well, you can see the picture now, can’t you?”
“Yeah… But was it really just a ‘little argument’? They seem even more at odds than before. Shouldn’t you… do something about it?”
Come to think of it, Ori had started getting along with the two of them recently, hadn’t she? Seeing a bit of her warmer side like this was refreshing.
“They’ll come around once they realize things. Besides, what would forcing them to make up do? Have you ever seen that go well with kids in your school when you were a kid?”
“Good point, I guess… But it’s going to be a pain in the ass having to deal with them later, with them being like this.”
“Can’t force progress. Life ain’t pay-to-win. At least, not most of the time. With developments like these, you just have to let time do its magic. I trust that they’ll figure things out eventually.”
Ori made a complicated expression I couldn’t quite read as she looked at me. Maybe if she pulled down that mask of hers, I’d be able to tell what she was thinking, but alas. Seriously, though, why are you looking at me like that?
“Haha.”
“...?”
What’s that laugh for? Did I say something weird?
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s just… I thought that’s so like you.”
“Huh?”
What’s that supposed to mean?
You’ve always believed in the best in people, and when they need it most, you make sure to bring that best out of them.
Is that why you went and chose a degree in teaching, I wonder? Not that it went anywhere—you ended up a NEET in the end.
Or was it just a coincidence that your character fell in line with your interests?
“Vell.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad I met someone like you.”
“... Why are you saying something so embarrassing all of a sudden?”
Would you look at that? He’s as red as a tomato now.
Always so awkward in the strangest places, yet confident and uplifting in others.
I hope you never change.
I’ll do what I can to make sure you won’t lose your way, just like you made sure I didn’t lose mine.
Vell.
No, □□□□□□.
A short man lay unconscious on the ground, his nose bloodied, teeth missing, and one eye already swelling dark. Standing over him, seething with barely restrained fury, was a young man drenched from head to toe, his skin glistening under the sunlight as blood trickled from his clenched fists.
“Haa… Haa… Haa…”
The young man—no, Snide—heaved as his wild, untamed emotions boiled over. His eyes glared murderously at the gnome beneath his feet. One hand clenched a half-torn fish; the other half, its head still attached, lay discarded on the ground beside the gnome.
A voice whispered within his mind, its words spoken in an unintelligible tongue.
N̶̟̘̼̪̜̞͎͓̻̙̬̟̥̋̎͆̎͋͌̄̋̀͜͝͝͝ͅó̷͙̒̒͂͂̈́̈́̿̑̕͝͠w̶̘̺̩͓͍̒̀̿̈́̓̈́͘,̶̡̧̛͍͇̳̟̥̪͙̤̪̓̐́̒͌̾̑̑͌͆ͅ ̴̡̩͇̹͈̰̻͊̈̽̎̄̆̋͝ḑ̴̨͎̤͓̼̰̰̼̩̟͓͈̣̰̆͊͆̈́͠͝o̴̢͕̖̫̯͕͉̽͊́͂̓̎͝e̶̗̥̼͖̩͉͇͔̱̤̪̋̒̑̄̓̕ș̴̛͙̻̱̺͙͈͚̘͓̼͇̽̈͗́̄͂̌̎̈́̅͌̚͘͜͝n̴̡̧͙̼̜̞̭̠̪͖̫̗̜͇̿̐̎̃̑͊̃͘͜͝'̴̢̡̪̩̝̮̬̗̩̱̪̓̓̏̉͂̑ṯ̷̢̨̢̘͉͙̭͈̂̓̀͌͑̈̂̈́͛͌ͅͅ ̸͓̹̪̻̐͌̈͛ṱ̷͓̪̠̹̲̜̮͇̬̏̍͆͑̀̒͑̒̈̽̒̕͘͘̕ḩ̴̡͇͚͈̪̗͆͂̕ͅa̷̛͖̲̔͂͌̿̀̄̊̉͝ͅt̸̝̻̙̙̜̦͈̻̱̬̹̭̐̿͂͌͌̈́̍̈́͜ ̷̡̘̺͈̤͎͍̳̃͌͌̓̓̍͊̓̍̋̅̈̐̚ͅm̸̛͇̘͔̺̰̿̔̐̈̍a̶̧̩̣̖͉̺̘̾͂͛͒̀̇̂̚͠k̷̡̨̭̱̪̼̳͔̲̱̙̠͔̯͉̈́͒e̴̲̯͙͌̈̀ ̷̡̧̛͍̺̜̫̻̺͈̮͚̩͉̹͓̈̏̌̔̆̄̌̃̿͗y̴̟̠͔̯̻͚̒̃͘͠ơ̵̢̢̛̫͈͐̋̌́͊̍́͐̆̊̾̉͜͝ụ̵̣̝̱̃͌̈͑̌̐ ̵̟͇̪͓͚̙́́̒̆̾͜ͅf̴̧̛̖̐͋͒̾͂̏̌͑͑̈̈́̂̕ę̵͙̪̠͔͈̥͎̯̙̪̪͇̔̇̊̀͌͑̄̈́͒͒̎̽̓͜e̶̜̮̿́͆̇͌̓̄l̸̨̙̙̰̗͇͓͙̼͍̗̮̞̏ ̵̦̰̥̜̼̦̲̜̙̰͐̈́͊́̅́̚͜ą̴̬̦̭̟̻̳̦̯́͊̽̈̔̃̍͗̑͌͘̚ ̴̺͔̱̦̥̞̞̮̱̟̣́̽́̌͝͠ͅl̴̨̦̭̞̬̠͕̹̱̗͚͖̲̼̆̃͋̈́͜ö̶̡̨̧̥̘̞̞̦̞͔̳͎̯́͂̉̓͐̈̾̐̋͌͐̎͠ͅţ̷͎͙͙̞͔̼̳͇͎͉̹͍͚͙͋ ̴̨̭̦͖͕̮͚̞̗̟̜̐̋̅̃́̅̈̈́̚͜͜b̶̹͍̊̈̃ę̸̡̡̛͖͈̦̫̱͌̈́̾̀̈́̑͒͌͋̆͂ț̵̱͚̺̹̺̺͔̮̎̈͒̚t̶̨̨̤̤͉̫̘̯̰̬̫̟̰̿̉͒̔̓̄̋̇͊̇̄̉̚ͅͅȩ̷̨̤͍̰̥̥̮̤̫̪̀̐̔͂r̶̡̢̰̮̲̼͗͛̿̾̈̊́̇̈́?̵͎͎̩̌͗͋̓̂̇̈́͑̇̓͑̒̕̕͝
“...”
