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Chapter 22 - No One Left Behind
🕑 Added 2025-02-28 22:00:03 +0000 UTCAthan looked up at his father, curiosity in his eyes. "Why can't we go in the water? When it's hot, it helps cool us down."
Wade shook his head firmly. "Water bad. When in water, fall like rock. No air, then dead. So no water alone. Water danger."
"But we can swim," Athan responded.
Wade looked his son in the eye before shaking his head absolutely serious. "No. Only those who go in water end dead by water. If we not go in water, then no dead by water." Wade's tone left no room for debate, making it clear that his view on the matter was absolute. Athan frowned slightly but chose not to argue. He could see the firm belief in his father's eyes—fear and caution rooted in experience. Instead, he simply nodded, deciding that there would be no changing Wade's mind on the dangers of water anytime soon.
Just then, Rael returned, her face calm but firm. "Athan, come with me," she said, motioning for him to follow.
Curious but obedient, the boy got up from the water and trailed after his mother. She led him back to his bedding and gestured for him to sit down. "Stay here," she instructed before kneeling beside him.
Reaching for the mortar and pestle Athan had crafted and previously taught her to use, she began working on a mixture. She crushed dried herbs with practiced movements, adding a bit of water to create a thick balm. Once satisfied with the consistency, she carefully applied it to every area where Athan's skin was red and irritated. The cool, soothing touch of the balm brought instant relief, easing the discomfort on his swollen hands and arms.
To keep the moisture locked in, Rael pressed large leaves over the affected areas, gently smoothing them into place. "This will help with irritation and keep skin from drying out," she explained.
When she finished, she sat back and looked at her son with a firm expression. "You not get up unless to go to relieve yourself. Understand?"
Athan opened his mouth to protest but quickly shut it at the look on her face. He nodded reluctantly.
Satisfied, Rael rose to her feet and stepped out to find the others. She gathered the nearby clansmen and informed them of Athan's condition. "Make sure he stays in bed," she instructed. "No work, no walking around. If he tries to leave, stop him. Hand skin needs time to heal."
The group nodded in understanding, agreeing to watch over the boy and ensure he followed Rael's orders. Meanwhile, Athan lay back on his bedding, feeling both frustrated and grateful—restless at the idea of being forced to stay still, but appreciating the care his mother had shown him.
As the sun began to set, Athan was already growing restless. Lying still for so long was something he was not used to. He shifted slightly, sighing as he stared at the dimming sky, wishing he could be doing something more productive.
After some time, it was time for the evening meal. He glanced at his mother, who gave him a firm look that made it clear—he was to stay put, and they would bring the food to him. Understanding that there was no room for negotiation, he remained where he was, though impatience gnawed at him.
A little while later, Lara arrived, carrying two bowls of food. She carefully placed one on the ground beside him before pulling something unexpected from her pouch—a wooden spoon. Athan blinked, looking at it in surprise before glancing up at her curiously.
Lara gave a small smile before explaining, "Ok, he made it. Saw your hands, thought you can't hold bowl good. So made this—small one for you, same as big one for cooking pot."
Athan looked at the spoon, but his hands were wrapped in a cocoon of balm and leaves, preventing him from taking it. He hesitated before glancing up at Lara, who quickly understood. Her face flushed slightly as she picked up the spoon again, shifting awkwardly before kneeling beside him.
"I... I feed you?" she asked, her voice hesitant, her cheeks growing redder.
Athan blinked at her in surprise, then let out a small sigh, realizing he had no other choice. He gave a small nod.
Lara, clearly flustered, scooped a small portion of stew and carefully lifted the spoon toward his mouth. Athan leaned forward slightly, taking the bite, the warm broth filling his mouth. The taste was familiar, comforting, but the situation was anything but.
Lara glanced away nervously, focusing on the bowl as she prepared another spoonful. "You eat slow, so not burn," she murmured, her embarrassment evident.
Athan could only nod, swallowing as she continued to carefully feed him, both of them struggling to ignore the unusual intimacy of the moment. As the bowl emptied, he hesitated for a moment before speaking. "It was very good," he said softly, looking at her. "Thank you."
Lara, still flushed, glanced down at the bowl in her hands before giving him a small nod. "You welcome," she murmured, quickly standing up. She gathered both his empty bowl and her own, which she had eaten from while feeding him. Her movements were slightly rushed, as if trying to escape the lingering awkwardness of the moment.
The boy looked up and noticed several members of the clan glancing in his and Lara's direction before quickly looking away, whispering among themselves. Some of the younger women exchanged amused looks, while a few of the older ones nodded knowingly, as if they had expected such an interaction to happen eventually. The men, on the other hand, seemed to regard the scene with mixed expressions—some smirking in silent teasing, others pretending not to notice but clearly paying attention.
Athan sighed internally, feeling a mix of embarrassment and resignation. It was obvious that the moment would not be forgotten any time soon. He could already imagine the quiet jokes and assumptions that would spread throughout the camp. He glanced at Lara, who was hastily retreating to clean the bowls, her posture stiff, clearly aware of the eyes on them. Despite his own discomfort, he found himself smiling slightly. Even if it was awkward, there was something reassuring about the way she had cared for him.
After a short while, a group of women gathered nearby, continuing their practice of forming words by mixing letters into new sounds. They were progressing quickly, occasionally pausing to ask Athan if their combinations were correct. Despite his limited movement, he was able to guide them with verbal instructions, pleased with their eagerness to learn.
Seeing their growing confidence, Athan decided to challenge them further. "Now, write your own names," he instructed, watching as some of the women exchanged uncertain glances.
Some hesitated, struggling to recall the exact letter shapes, while others eagerly scratched symbols into the dirt, trying to form their names with the sounds they had learned. A few of them murmured the letters under their breath as they worked, their fingers tracing the symbols carefully. Athan observed their efforts, correcting small mistakes when necessary and offering encouragement when he saw them struggling.
Despite some initial difficulties, the women slowly gained confidence, a sense of accomplishment growing as they saw their own names appear before them in written form for the first time. Some even began writing their partners' names in the earth, smiling to themselves as they traced the letters carefully, taking pride in mastering this new skill.
On the other hand, the men were working at their own pace, focused on crafting the best combs possible for their partners. Some, more confident in their carving, had begun experimenting with different designs, while others carefully followed the instructions Athan had given them earlier. Occasionally, a few of them approached Athan with questions about technique. Unable to take the tools himself due to his wrapped hands, he described the steps in detail, demonstrating through words instead of action. When necessary, he called Ok over to assist, having him show the others specific carving techniques.
As they worked, the men became more engrossed in their craft, their initial hesitations fading with each stroke of their tools. Some began personalizing their combs, adding simple engravings or shaping them with extra care to make them more unique. A few even started discussing who among them could make the finest comb, sparking a friendly competition. Laughter and murmurs of concentration filled the air as they exchanged ideas and advice, some carving intricate patterns while others kept their designs simple and sturdy.
Despite the challenge of working with only verbal guidance, Athan found satisfaction in seeing their progress. Even with his own hands bound, his influence continued to shape the group's development, reinforcing his role as a source of knowledge and leadership among them.
Though he was stuck in place, Athan still found himself contributing to the progress of the clan, and that was enough to ease his frustration—at least for now.
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The next morning, as Athan began to sit up, his mother placed a firm hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back down. "Where are you going?" she asked, looking him directly in the eye.
Athan hesitated before replying, "I need to water the fields."
His mother shook her head. "You go nowhere."
At that moment, Lara stepped forward. "I will water the fields," she offered before turning to leave. Athan looked at her, feeling both thankful and frustrated. While he appreciated the help, he disliked being stuck in place, unable to handle his own responsibilities.
Frustrated, Athan remained seated, grumbling under his breath. His mother ignored his complaints as she carefully unwrapped the leaf/bandages from his hands. Clicking her tongue in disapproval, she examined the irritated skin. The redness had faded slightly, but his hands were still swollen and tender. "You stay here. We need more balm," she said before walking away to gather more medicinal plants.
Athan glanced down at his hands, flexing his fingers slightly. The skin felt tight, stretched over the irritation, and every small movement sent a dull sting through his palms. The balm had helped, but he had struggled to sleep with his hands wrapped so tightly. He clenched his jaw in frustration—he hated feeling useless.
His eyes followed his mother as she disappeared into the distance, then turned toward the rest of the camp. People were already moving about, tending to their daily tasks, preparing for the work ahead. Normally, he would have been among them, planning, directing, helping wherever he could. Now, he was forced to simply watch.
Despite his impatience, he knew he had no choice but to rest and let them heal. Even so, the thought of being idle while the others worked gnawed at him.
After a while, his mother returned, carrying fresh herbs and using the mortar and pestle to prepare another dose of balm. She carefully applied the mixture to his hands before wrapping them again with fresh leaves. "Stay put," she reminded him firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Athan groaned in frustration but ultimately obeyed. He hated being idle, but he knew there was no way around it.
A moment later, Lara returned, her hands slightly dirtied from the morning's work. "Fields watered. Used watering system," she informed him. "Also... flipped bricks."
Athan's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "You did?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "Thank you."
Lara nodded, her cheeks faintly flushed at his warm gratitude. "You say to do the other day. So, I do." She shifted on her feet, clearly not used to receiving such direct praise.
Seeing her discomfort, Athan smirked slightly but didn't push further. "Still, I really appreciate it."
Lara, still flustered, quickly turned away. "Need more wood," she mumbled before hurrying off to continue gathering fuel for future fires.
Athan watched her retreating figure, shaking his head slightly before leaning back against his bedding. Even though he was stuck in place, things were still moving forward, and that gave him a small sense of relief.
After a couple more hours, Athan could not take it anymore. He shifted uncomfortably before finally calling out to his mother, who was busy twisting fibers into rope while chatting with Nat and Meg.
"Mom, I know my hands are hurt, but my feet are fine! Can I at least go see what the others are doing? I won't touch anything, I just want to watch and talk! Please?"
Rael glanced at her son from where she sat, pausing in her work. She studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. After a while, she sighed and asked, "You promise?"
"I promise!" Athan blurted out without hesitation, eager for the chance to escape his bedding.
His mother nodded but gave him a sharp look. "You may go, but you do not touch anything, and you stay away from the water. Understand?"
"Yes! I understand!" Athan quickly agreed, already pushing himself up, his impatience clear.
Rael shook her head slightly, watching him carefully as he rose to his feet. "If I hear you did not listen, you go back to rest and stay there."
Athan swallowed his excitement enough to nod seriously. "I'll be careful, I promise."
Finally allowed to leave his bedding, Athan's first stop was the fields where he had planted the seeds. He started by checking Field 2, observing how the vines of the plants had begun to climb onto the wooden supports he and Lara had placed earlier. Running his eyes over the structure, he nodded in satisfaction, noting that the plants were developing strong tendrils, securing themselves firmly.
Kneeling down, he carefully examined the soil to check the moisture level. The watering system had worked well. He was relieved to see no signs of overwatering or dryness, meaning Lara had followed his instructions carefully.
Standing, he stretched slightly before moving to inspect the other fields, but unlike Field 2, the others had yet to show any signs of growth. The soil remained undisturbed, the seeds still hidden beneath the surface. He frowned slightly, wondering how long it would take for them to sprout.
Kneeling down, he only observed the soil closely, resisting the instinct to touch it. His hands, still wrapped in balm and bandages, reminded him of his promise not to interfere directly. Instead, he carefully studied the moisture level and compactness, noting any changes in color or texture. He relied on sight rather than touch, reminding himself that patience was necessary. Everything seemed to be in good condition—no excessive dryness, no signs of animals disturbing the area. It was simply a matter of time.
As he walked between the fields, he made mental notes about possible adjustments. Perhaps certain crops needed different spacing, or maybe some seeds required deeper planting. His thoughts raced with ideas for improvement, but for now, all he could do was wait and observe.
Despite his lingering frustration at being unable to work with his hands, seeing the steady progress of fields 2 eased some of his restlessness. At least here, he could still contribute by planning and directing the work needed for the future.
Next, Athan moved to inspect the bricks and the watering system. Observing everything carefully, he saw no issues with the watering system, and the bricks had been properly flipped. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the kiln, anticipation stirring within him. He couldn't wait to fire the bricks and use them alongside cement to build a larger, more efficient kiln—one that would provide greater autonomy and better regulate internal heat.
Since he couldn't touch anything, he studied the kiln closely with his eyes, mentally mapping out improvements he could implement in the future. After a while, he realized there was nothing more he could do at the moment and shifted his focus elsewhere.
He made his way to the future toilet area, checking the cement that had been set to dry. His gaze swept across the surface, ensuring that no one had disturbed it. If left untouched, it would harden properly, securing the foundation for the structure. He crouched slightly, inspecting for any cracks or irregularities. Everything seemed to be progressing as planned, and though he still felt restless from his inability to work with his hands, knowing that progress was being made eased his frustration slightly.
Once the toilet area was inspected, Athan moved on to check the wall for any signs of wear. He walked along its length, starting from the river, carefully examining the structure for cracks or weaknesses. As he continued in the opposite direction, he passed by the gate, briefly inspecting the pivot, socle and frame before moving toward the cliff where the wall ended. Everything appeared to be in order. However, he knew he couldn't check the outer side of the wall—animals could be lurking there, and venturing out alone would be dangerous. He sometimes forgot the limitations of his young body, his mind still accustomed to the independence of his past life.
He then turned his attention to the foundation of the future house. However, before he could reach it, Ok and Medi intercepted him, their expressions stern. "Back to bedding," Ok said firmly.
Athan frowned, shaking his head. "I already have permission from my mother."
The two men exchanged glances, unconvinced. Without giving him a choice, they took him by the arms and led him straight back to Rael. "He say you allow," Medi said, waiting for confirmation.
Rael sighed but nodded. "Yes, but he does not work. Just watch."
With that, the two finally released him, allowing him to continue. Athan exhaled, realizing that while his freedom was limited, there was a certain comfort in knowing how closely the adults protected him. No one could do as they pleased without approval—especially not a child.
He finally arrived at the foundation, relieved to see that no one had tampered with it. The drying cement remained undisturbed, likely because everyone had seen the damage it had done to his hands. Satisfied, he moved on, observing the group working on the lumber. Several men were splitting logs into beams and cutting them into planks of different thicknesses. Athan carefully counted the number of beams and planks they had prepared, comparing them to what he estimated would be needed.
After a quick calculation, he determined that about a quarter of the required materials were ready for assembly. Feeling reassured by their progress, he returned to his bedding, his mind turning toward future projects. His first goal was clear: build a house large enough to shelter everyone so that no one had to sleep outside anymore. After that, the toilet construction would follow.
Once the entire group had worked together to finish the toilet, he could focus on building proper bathing areas. If he could create a system where water could enter and drain efficiently, he could establish two public baths—one for men and one for women—ensuring privacy while improving overall hygiene.
Athan also thought about a way to heat the bathwater so they wouldn't have to freeze every time they bathed. Having consistently warm water would be a luxury, but if he planned correctly, he could at least make it happen occasionally. The idea lingered in his mind, another challenge to solve in the future.
Once he had enough cement, the number of things he could construct would grow exponentially. The thought of future projects excited him—he could already envision a proper forge, a place where he could work with metal and shape the tools they desperately needed.
For now, he had no choice but to build the first house using wooden joinery, securing the beams with interlocking cuts and bindings instead of nails. It would work, but it wasn't the long-term solution he wanted. Once the second house was built, it would have proper nails, strong and reliable.
His thoughts drifted to the iron ore he had discovered near the cliff. The dark mineral had hinted at a rich deposit further up. The knowledge that iron was so close yet unreachable gnawed at him. If he could find a way to scale the cliff or create a safe passage, that ore would be his to extract and refine.
He could already imagine the transformation—tools forged from iron instead of stone, stronger weapons, nails for construction, and even better farming implements. The possibilities were endless. His heart pounded at the thought of holding a real metal tool, one crafted by his own hands.
Most civilizations had started with copper and bronze weapons and tools in the beginning, but he did not know where to find those minerals. For now, he knew where the iron was, and that was enough to start.
One day, he would reach that iron. One day, he would smelt and forge it into something that would change the future of the tribe. And when that day came, nothing would hold him back anymore.
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As before, the boy remained on his bedding, thinking about his plans and the future. After a while, a commotion near the gate caught his attention. Curious, he sat up just as his mother and her friends also rose to see what was happening.
Athan quickly got to his feet, following the movement of the crowd toward the entrance. A new spectacle unfolded—the hunters had returned. One of them carried two large birds, their feathers glistening in the light, but he and the others looked uncertain, almost hesitant.
Gasps rippled through the gathered villagers as three unfamiliar figures stepped inside the enclosure. A woman, a girl who appeared a few years older than Athan, and a young baby boy clung together, their expressions wary and exhausted.
Rael and Wade approached the four hunters, their faces filled with concern. "Who are they?" Rael asked, her tone firm but not unkind.
Ulf, the leader of the hunters, took a breath before responding. "We go far to hunt, reach big grass place before mountain. Kill birds, find roots, berries, fruit. Then, we see them."
He point to them. "Their people... all gone. Beasts take them. Only she and kids run. Others stay, fight, so they live."
A heavy silence settled over the tribe as the weight of Ulf's words sank in. Many glanced at the woman and children again, noticing how frail and malnourished they looked. Their leater clothes were tattered, their bodies thin—likely, they had not eaten in days.
Rael stepped forward, motioning for the woman to sit. "Is this true?" she asked gently.
The woman, barely able to stand, shivered violently. "Yes," she whispered in the old tongue that every one could still talk, her voice weak and broken. "Man... stay. Tell run. No look back... so we run."
Wade exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on the wooden plank he used to reinforce the gate. Without a word, he shut it behind them, ensuring nothing else—man or beast—could enter.
Meanwhile, Rael guided the woman and the children toward the firepit, offering them warmth and a place to rest. The woman moved slowly, her legs weak from exhaustion, clutching the baby tightly against her chest. The girl, slightly behind her, kept her head low, her wary eyes scanning the unfamiliar faces surrounding them, as if unsure whether they were safe.
The villagers exchanged uneasy glances, their own memories of fear and loss surfacing. Nights spent in terror, the pain of losing loved ones, the struggle to survive—it was a burden they all carried. Seeing the three newcomers, so frail and frightened, brought those emotions rushing back.
Food and water were brought to the woman and the girl. The woman's hands trembled as she reached for the wooden bowl, struggling to hold it steady. The girl, slightly hesitant, took small sips of water before eating cautiously, as if fearing the food might disappear at any moment. The baby boy, too young for solid food, remained latched onto his mother, his tiny hands gripping onto her torn clothing.
The three huddled together, their bodies pressed close as if afraid they might be separated. Even with the warmth of the fire flickering around them, they still shivered—not just from the cold, but from the uncertainty of their fate. Their eyes darted around, avoiding direct contact, their expressions tense and unreadable. They had survived, but the fear in their eyes showed that survival alone was not enough—they did not yet feel safe.
Seeing their unease, Athan approached them slowly. The woman and girl tensed, their eyes widening slightly before realizing that it was only a child standing before them. Their shoulders relaxed just a little as they watched him warily.
Athan sat down nearby, giving them space. The woman ate cautiously, but with clear hunger, taking small bites while keeping the baby close. The girl, though more hesitant, followed suit, stealing glances at Athan between bites. Her gaze lingered on his hands, curiosity flickering in her eyes as she noticed the thick layers of balm and leaves wrapped around them. Her brows furrowed slightly, and she tilted her head, seemingly debating whether to ask about it or not.
"Now what you do?" he asked after a moment, his voice calm. "Have other place to go?"
The girl turned toward the woman, mirroring his question in her own uncertain gaze. The woman hesitated, her lips slightly parted, but no words came. Finally, she shook her head slowly, her expression weary and resigned. They had nowhere else to go.
Athan smiled reassuringly. "Why not stay here with us? We got food, a safe place to sleep, and soon, we will be even better."
He glanced toward his parents, catching the way their heads snapped up at his words. Rael and Wade exchanged startled looks, clearly not expecting their son to extend such an offer. Yet, despite their initial shock, neither interrupted. They remained still, waiting for the woman's response.
The woman, startled by the question, looked at the boy, her tired eyes searching his face. Then, hesitantly, she glanced toward the two who appeared to be in charge—Rael and Wade—seeking their reaction. Her gaze flickered back to Athan, uncertainty evident in her expression.
"We... not want to trouble..." she murmured, her voice weak, the words slow and unsure.
Before she could finish, the girl, her face lighting up with hope, spoke up. "Yes! Please!" she said eagerly, a small, hopeful smile breaking through her exhaustion.
The contrast between the woman's hesitation and the girl's enthusiasm was stark. Rael and Wade exchanged another glance, taking in the situation, but still, they did not speak, waiting for the woman to make the final decision.
But Athan didn't give her a chance to hesitate further. "Alright! Finish eating, then I show you around!" he said to the girl with a bright smile, his excitement clear.
The woman, still uncertain, was momentarily forgotten as Athan and the girl seemed to fall into the same rhythm of energy and curiosity. The girl's expression softened, and for the first time, there was a spark of something other than exhaustion in her eyes.
Athan, meanwhile, was already thinking ahead. This was good. More people meant more hands to help, more skills to learn, and most importantly, a stronger, more diverse group. Their survival depended on numbers, and the larger their tribe became, the better their future would be.
The woman looked at Rael, hesitant. "That... good?" she asked, her words slow and uncertain.
Rael gave her a reassuring smile. "It is alright."
Wade, standing beside her, kept his expression serious, but inside, he was struggling not to laugh. With Athan, everything always seemed to be decided in an instant. No hesitation, no second-guessing—just action. It was both amusing and impressive how quickly he turned an uncertain situation into a settled matter.
