Cylus 6th Arc 721
Are those edible, you think? Rokas asked.
The wind, which’d been painting ripples in small puddles dotted around the forest floor, held its breath. Swirling away from the water, it knocked on the glass windows of fire’s chamber. Funneled though the small holes that prevented it from choking itself out. The little flame hissed and flickered, its peaceful and near immobile state disturbed. Dancing on the wick for a moment, fire then settled back into tranquility. Wind resumed its games.
Right. Fire?
It twitched in annoyance, but responded anyway. Not a helpful answer, though definitely one Rokas should have expected.
For you maybe, but not for me.
He sighed, squinting at the shrubbery, brought one of the branches closer to his eyes. Small and blue orbs growing between needle-like leaves, blue berries that weren’t blueberries. Those were shaped a little differently. Also didn’t grow on coniferous plants. These did, and they were unfamiliar. Rokas was by no means inexperienced at living outdoors, but all knowledge and skill degraded somewhat after periods of disuse. It had been years since last time he foraged in the woodlands. Several pieced of useful information had fled his memory, despite coming so easily before.
Thick fingers plucked one of the berries off the thin yet rugged branch, careful not to squash it by accident. Tested its hardness, the tension of its skin and flesh. He sniffed it, taking deep and long whiffs. It told him barely anything. Apart from a hint of forest scent, Rokas didn’t smell much. Maybe some pine, though it could very well be some resin from the branch and needles sticking to the sand on his fingertips.
Inconclusive. Maybe tasting one would help. As long as he didn’t swallow it, poisonous fruit did no harm. Though he really needn’t pop it into his mouth in its entirety to get a taste. With a nail, Rokas carved a line into the fruit, squeezing out some of the sap, licking it off a finger. Bitter. Gritty. Again he couldn’t tell if he tasted berry or maybe some residue of resin sticking to his hands. The grittiness had to be grains of sand though.
Ultimately, the experiment imparted no new evidence for either possibility. Bitter usually meant poisonous, but not always. Or not in a way that affected humans. He frowned, flicking the squeezed berry back into the bush.
Well, no matter. He could let Joe taste test them, and if the man started foaming at the mouth, experienced horrid abdominal cramps, or fell sideways and straight up died, Rokas would know for a fact these weren’t edible.
He began plucking those he figured were ripe, and placed them in a basket he’d brought along. Pulling and pushing aside branches to reach berries that grew a bit deeper in the bush. Gathering progressed quickly, until a fairly thick layer of blue berries lined the inside of the basket, and the shrubs only held unripe fruits. He performed a final check, reaching in deep to make sure he hadn’t missed any. Sticking his head in, past the thick stem, hands opening up a hole to the backside of the bush, revealing what lied behind. Not a grouping of plants, like he’d expected. Not a view of trees and forest floor with puddles of snowmelt-water.
Instead a pair of beady eyes stared back, set into a face with stiff and rough-looking hairs. At the tip of its snout sat a large, flat, triangular nose tipped with mud. Large tusks curling out of its maw. All of it attached to a squat yet highly muscular form.
The boar shrieked, propelling forward in an instant, smashing its skull into Rokas’s groin. He toppled like a falling log, slow at first, then faster and unstoppable. Snapping branches under his weight, slamming down into the mud, barely missing the basket of food.
Air knocked out of his lungs, Rokas groaned and tried scrambling back to his feet, clutching his aching nethers. The pain creeped up into his stomach, a slow burn that would persist for some time. He blinked a pair of tears out of his eyes as the beast rushed up for a second charge, yellowed tusks at the ready. Rokas focused his inner voice and called out for assistance. Within the lantern, fire exploded into a giant flare, streaming out of the airholes at the top, trailing through the air like a flaming snake. Reaching Rokas, it compressed for a moment, then expanding into a large and flat rectangle of hungry tongues, reflected in the boar’s black eyes.
Yelping, the swine planted its hooves, skidding to a stop right in front of it, turning away. A whip of fire lashed out from the sheet, searing flesh and hair, filling the air with the scent of burnt leather. The boar screeched in pain and fear, dashing back into the bushes as fast as its stubby legs could carry it.
Rokas released out a drawn-out sigh, square of floating fire dying out before him. No longer fed with ether or anything else, the element couldn’t sustain itself, and faded into nothingness. It flowed back into the lantern before it disappeared completely, resuming its former placid state. Rokas picked it up along with the basket, and headed bow-legged in the direction opposite of where the pig had gone.