1000 words, ~5 minute read
Recommended listening while you read: Winter Melon Valley by Leon Chang
Day 2 on the island, midday
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After breakfast, I took stock. The sea had calmed since the storm. The sun had returned, and again the whole thing looked too good to be true. I cupped my hands over my brow and scanned the horizon. I thought I could now see far enough into the distant waters to make out a vague shape, but it was too far to be sure the light wasn’t playing tricks on me.
I sat cross-legged in the sand, with my digging rock, a big stick, and a palm frond laid out in front of me. First, I peeled leaves from the palm frond and braided them together. I tugged on both ends as hard as I could; surprisingly strong cord. I braided four short lengths and laid these out on the ground as well. Like a surgeon delicately organizing her tools. Next, I spent twenty minutes banging my digging rock against one end of the stick. I would hit it, rotate 90 degrees, then hit it again. Eventually, I’d carved a four inch deep X shape in one end. I jammed my digging rock into one of the grooves. It was snug, but I used the palm cordage to further secure it, weaving back and forth through the X and tying off the ends.
Behind me, I heard the click of valves on the backpack release, the air crackled, and the smell of faint burning wafted down to where I sat. What was the backpack igniting in order to project onto thin air like this? Text appeared in my periphery.
{Crafting +3}
“Ha! Clever little rucksack…”
I admired my newly crafted axe and held it up for the backpack to see. Pretty crude, but for what I had in mind, it would do the trick.
With the axe in one hand, I retrieved the strange fruit I’d found. I peeled my ‘tablecloth’ off the driftwood ‘table’ and set the fruit in a divot. I pulled the axe high over my head and brought it down hard. And missed completely. I wound up a little less dramatically, again bringing the axe down on the strange fruit. The jelly-like exterior split right down the middle, exposing the orange pit at the center.
Maybe if I disassembled it, I’d learn something?! I peeled away the transparent jelly exterior of one half and held the core up to the light. It had a texture like a mango, but the purple dots all throughout the mealy orange flesh made it look more like a strangely coloured kiwi. I rolled it apart between my fingers, examining the purple bits, trying to do anything that might trigger more details about it to float up from the rucksack.
Nothing.
I waited a minute in case there was some sort of lag. The gooey interior of the fruit-thing had a cooling sensation on my hands.
Still nothing.
My impatience got the better of me. I bent down, grabbed the other, still intact, half of the fruit, and quickly took a bite. It was incredible. Compared to the hardtack, the flavour was mouth-watering–a jolt of energy. My tongue tingled. The sweetness, the sugary taste, the soft melting of the jelly-like exterior.
“Oh! Oh! Ooooh! This is good. This is so, so good!”
Another rush of air, a sizzle & a flash.
{Kehra Seed Pod | Effects: +Hydration, +Sustenance}
The backpack’s projection floated right above the half-gnawed fruit.
“Well, that was lucky.”
I made a mental note to never do that again. Action is good, but that was impulsive. I pulled my axe out of the driftwood and went hunting for more Kehra Seed Pods.
A few hours later, at around midday, I had eight Kehra Seed Pods in my pack.
I had only ventured a little ways into the overgrowth nearby my temporary shelter. They were easy to spot, up near the tops of a long, skinny, branchless tree I didn’t recognize. But gathering eight of them had taken me a long time. Clearly, they weren’t growing in abundance, at least not here.
I’d got the first few by chopping down the entire tree with my axe. It was only an inch or two thick, so I thought it would be easy. It wasn’t. The tree itself felt rubbery as I hacked at it. My axe would bounce back unnaturally with every strike. By the time the first two Kehra trees fell, the pack had flashed an orange durability meter above my axe. The thicker line segment was less than 1/4 of the way across. Though, this had scored me points.
{Foraging +1}
Foraging was new.
“What do we have so far?” I asked the backpack. “Foraging, crafting, base-building, athletics, comfort & cartography. How many of these are there?!”
My axe would have broken before I got another tree down. So, I resorted to simply shaking the hell out of any other Kehra trees I could find, in order to coax their fruits to drop to the forest floor.
I came back to my makeshift shelter to make a plan and eat some lunch. I ate three of the eight Kehra pods. It was good to save the hardtack and bottled water for emergencies, but the seed pods were more of a snack than a meal. I was going to need to gather a lot more of them if they were going to be my primary source of food.
I took my last bite, a modest sip from my bottled water, and felt ready to take on the afternoon’s project...
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Next instalment to be published June 4th, 2026.
Thanks for reading.
Author Notes
This chapter is purely meant to relieve some of Marlowe’s sense of urgency, with a renewable food source. I’m still setting the stage. While my aim is to write a more contemplative and escapist story, I am still often arguing with myself about balancing the minutae of survival with the excitement of the mysteries Marlowe faces.
I’d love to hear your feedback on if you’re here for the nitty gritty of the crafting/survival or if you want more of the mystery/intrigue. That would be invaluable as I continue with these instalments. Thanks for reading!
Maybe I missed it in an earlier chapter, but where did the name Kehra originate?