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0.93% Learning To Live As A Cultivator / Chapter 3: Chapter Three - I carve charms from my old world in my new one

Chapter 3: Chapter Three - I carve charms from my old world in my new one

A little more healed, a little less blind, Leon explored his new environment as best he could. The single room contained a bed, a bookshelf, a cabinet with a work surface, a table and shelves. He had also discovered a heavy wooden chest beneath his bed, which his weakened arms could not yet drag out. Potted bowls and plates sat on the shelves and lots of little, empty glass bottles. Of the three potted plants, one had died, but he managed to water the others with rainwater collected in a bucket outside.

His little hut was in the middle of the forest, trees visible in every direction, though there was a large lake and rocky outcropping just two hundred steps from his home. There were no other huts visible from where his stood, so he did not know where those people who beat him came from and could not keep an eye out for them in case they came back. This made him nervous.

When Leon was nervous, he had a tendency to carve doodles upon pieces of old wood. This was obviously an unusual habit for a modern man studying Social Sciences at University, but it was something ingrained since childhood.

His mother had been unmarried, his father had left the moment the word 'pregnant' had slipped from her mouth. She had raised him with love, discipline and money she had earned from working two jobs. And so while she had worked, he had stayed with Grandma. Grandma was a slightly batty old woman who lived two doors down and was very superstitious. To ward off all of the evils of the world, she would carve wooden charms and place them about her neck and her home. She had made him wear them too, his mother had a collection of them over the handful of years she relied on the old woman and as soon as he took an interest, she had taught him to carve them too.

The patterns varied, the size and shapes all differed, but they all had one thing in common; they didn't really do anything. The old woman was burgled one day while she was out at the grocery store and had had a minor heart attack in shock. Social Services decided that she would be better suited to living in sheltered accommodation, seeing as she refused to return home, claiming evil spirits had invaded it. So the eight year old him, with all the knowledge of carving talismans, waved her goodbye and never saw her again.

The knife that appeared to be all purpose, as it was the only one in the room, though there was a grinding stone for it, began to carve wood. Firstly he carved small flat pieces, thick enough to take the carving but smooth enough not to pierce his skin with splinters as he held them.

The first pattern that began to form in scrolling shape and design was meant for protection, the second, a swirling pattern for hiding things in plain sight. Shavings built up about his feet as he worked his nervous energy into the carvings. As he finally calmed, he felt a sudden weariness and rumbling began in his belly.

He took the purple fruit, which he had found plentiful in a barrel beside his house, from the table and began to eat. As delicious as it was, it was a meal that was beginning to lose favour, he had eaten plenty of them as he had recovered, but his body was craving something different. Perhaps he would venture back to the lake and see if he could find any fish.


Chapter 4: Chapter Four - I wash my hair in the lake

The chest beneath the bed creaked in protest as it was dragged along the wooden floor until it lost its shelter. Leon had not yet discovered its contents, waiting until he was fully healed before straining his muscles to recover it. He hoped there would be clothes for this body had just two sets and the first had been mostly lost to the mess of blood upon them. What little was left was used to scrub his blood from the floor, though a large stain still remained, soaked into the boards.

Unfortunately, there were no clothes inside, just books, a small, ornate looking cauldron and an odd metal thing. With a sigh, he stared at the possessions of the former owner of his body and closed the chest. He would just have to bathe as best he could without a second clothing set.

With a clay jar of what smelled like soap and looked like sand, he made his way to the lake. He came across no animals or people, but he could hear bird and their strange songs in the trees above him. He stripped the robe from his body, noting his frame was more slender now. Though he'd never been muscular to begin with, the growing flesh around his middle was no longer there. His hair was longer too, but tied at the nape of his neck. It was still matted with blood, so he had not taken the time to touch nor examine it, with the exception of scratching his scalp. He'd longed to wash it, but with his body in its condition, he may have made things worse by bathing too soon.

The cord was stuck within his matted hair, he did not attempt to remove it, but decided to cut his hair if he could not untangle it. After placing his spectacles in safe place, he stepped into the lake. The water was cold, he had to force himself to take each step forward into its depths. As it reached chest height, he took a deep breath and ducked under it for a heartbeat. The temperature took his breath away and he rose gasping for air. Wading quickly over to the jar he hoped was some sort of soap, he tentatively poured a little of its contents upon his palm and rubbed it onto his shoulder. It kept its grainy texture for a moment before dissolving in the water taking the dirt with it. Joyfully, he rubbed more over his body, wading back to deeper waters to wash it all away.

Then, he used a generous amount upon his hair and scalp. The water turned murky as the remaining dry blood began to wash out of his hair. The tangles loosened somewhat, so after rising the soap away, he washed it once more for good measure. It was much longer than he had imagined, reaching down until his tailbone and now wet it was very heavy. What he could see was mostly black, but there was several strands that seemed to be silvery white. Did that indicate that this body had some age to it? But despite the healing yellow marks upon his skin, it seemed smooth and healthy. He decided to worry about it after he had discovered a mirror. He could not see clearly enough in the rippling waters, even with his glasses on.

Draining as much water as he could from his hair, he realised he had lost the cord that tied it, so braided it loosely just to lift it as he used the soap upon his clothes. He did not wish to return through the woods naked, so squeezed out the water from the cloth until they were wet rather than soaking and tossed the robe over himself, carrying the undergarments and jar as he returned home. It was a very uncomfortable walk.

There was no fire to warm himself beside, so after hanging the wet clothes on a quick hanging arrangement using fallen branches, he went inside briefly and wrapped his linen blanket about him, before stepping back out. His hair was still very wet, but he made some attempt to comb it. The water made it too hard, so he would simply have to let it dry in the wind. He sat upon a nearby stump in thought, but was quickly bored of the scenery so decided to grab one of the many books in his possession to read as his hair dried.

What he read in those pages surprised him greatly.


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