Soul Caller 1 - Chapter 29 (Patreon)

The map had three different views he could switch between, one that appeared to look straight down from overhead, another at a 45-degree angle, almost as if he was a bird looking down and across the canyon, and the third from eye level, showing the view as if he was standing outside staring at his current position, staring at the canyon wall. By pressing on the other side of the slate, he found that he could zoom in and out, making the picture bigger or smaller. Though it lacked some detail as he zoomed in, he realized that it was helpful in giving him a sense of the surrounding mountains.

There were also a number of other functions, including the ability to mark locations, which he had seen Vale do as he tracked their camp during their passage through the mountains. The most important feature, however, was the ability to update the map, which Merrick did, soon seeing small details about the mine that he had been in, the manastone mine, and the long passage leading down to the underground river. It was strange to feel the sense of familiarity as he manipulated the device, almost as if he had used a map like this long ago. Recognizing that it was the latent memory of the warrior, he marveled at the Guardian Spirit he had gotten. As far as he knew, none of the other great spirits even came close to comparing.

After playing with the map for almost an hour, he felt like he had come to understand it completely and putting it away, he returned to his camp, getting ready to venture out into the cold canyon beyond. During some of his downtime, he had begun to work on a pair of snowshoes, hoping they would ease his passage across the thick snow. It had been a full month since the snow had started, and still it came in the occasional flurry, but for the most part, the large storms had passed. Now, it was simply the long, cold winter, until spring came.

Merrick knew that even once spring had arrived, the mountain passes would still be closed, packed deep with snow. It wouldn't be until early summer that they would be completely clear, making it possible to traverse across the mountains to where his tribe lived. He had at least five months left to survive here in the canyon, which meant he needed to go out and find a steady supply of food. This was his current task, and so, tying on his snowshoes, he shrugged himself into the thick coat he had made and got ready to leave.

The coat was formed from a heavy layer of stitched-together cloth he had gotten from inside Even’s pack. Added on top was a thick coat of buckskin and boar hide. He had even added the pieces of the centipede's carapace to the outside of the coat, hoping to provide himself with a bit of protection in case he ended up in a fight with any predators. He still had not shaken the image of the bear that chased after him a few months back, and though he doubted the pieces of carapace would do anything to stop one of its swipes, he thought it might offer some protection against wolf teeth or jaguar claws.

The clothing he had created included a pair of pants and clumsy boots to cover his feet, as well as a hood and mask to try to keep the bitter wind off of his face and head. His hands were covered in thick mittens, attached with strings so they could be removed easily, giving him access to his rifle, two spears, and dagger which were all secured within easy reach at his side. After double checking his gear, Merrick said a quick prayer to the spirits and then climbed out of his cave. It was daytime, but the sky was overcast, and the sun's weak rays made the air appear hazy.

Looking around for a few minutes, Merrick was relieved to find that his thick clothing did a good job blocking the cutting wind and the particles of snow and ice it carried. With this, it wouldn’t be so hard to venture out for wood and other supplies. Happy with his new clothing, Merrick began to trudge through the snow, his snowshoes leaving wide prints in his wake. He had fashioned them from bone and sinew, using rib bones from the deer he had caught, and stretching the sinew tight over them in a web that created a large surface area to help disperse his weight. He hadn’t been sure how they would fare, but they seemed to hold up pretty well, and so he proceeded with confidence.

His main task today was to scout the canyon, figuring out where the best hunting grounds were and hopefully bagging a deer before he returned. Based on how long the snow would last, he would need to hunt at least half a dozen times before the end of the deep snow, and that was assuming that he was able to find something on every hunting trip, which was unlikely. Just as he had weathered the fierce winter storm, so too had the animals of the canyon, and now they would begin their delicate winter dance, foraging for food while trying to avoid the eyes of the predators, who were no doubt just as hungry as they were. Merrick was one of these predators, but knew that he could become prey just as easily if he was spotted by the hungry wolves and jaguars prowling the canyon. Though he had yet to fire it, the rifle hanging on the strap on his shoulder gave him a measure of comfort when he thought about facing off against other predators.

He took his time as he moved, careful not to build up a sweat. Though he had never experienced it himself, he had heard the stories of the hunters and spirit warriors who ventured out of the village during the brutal cold of winter. They had spoken of the importance of slow movement, for even though it was desperately cold, too much exertion would mean sweating, and if the layer of sweat next to his skin froze, no amount of clothing would keep Merrick warm.

As he walked, he scanned the horizon, looking for signs of animals. His hope was to find deer, but after ranging across the canyon floor for nearly an hour, Merrick hadn't seen any animals at all apart from a few snow rabbits and a buzzard circling high in the sky. Merrick wasn't sure if it was the clothing that he wore that stood out sharply against the snow or if it was something else, but it was clear that any prey was clearing out of the area before he could get near enough to see them. A few times he saw tracks indicating small groups of doe, but they were always moving away from him, and so he figured that somehow he was alerting them to his presence.

Deciding to try a few traps, he began to retrace his steps, looking for good places to plant dead-falls to try and get some of the snow rabbits. The traps were fairly clumsy, as he had never set traps in the snow before, but he still had a few days of food, and he hoped that would be enough time to learn. When he was about an hour away from his cave, he spotted a faint movement in the distance and quickly crouched, his eyes searching the snow-covered hillside for signs of the creature he had seen. His slow breath sent clouds of water vapor into the frosty air as he continued to scan. His rifle was in his hands, but in order to fire it, he would need to shrug off his mitten and lift it into position. However, first he needed a target.

Eventually, he saw it again, cautiously moving between some trees. Its brown hide had blended in perfectly with the brown of the tree trunks, and it wasn't until it raised its head to nibble at some leaves that Merrick realized he was looking at a deer. Along his trek, he had passed numerous groves of trees on the snow covered hills and had not given them a second glance. Now he knew why he couldn't find the deer. Clearly, it was in these groves of trees that the animals took shelter, avoiding the white snow where they would stick out.

Merrick was a good 200 feet away from the deer, and he didn't think it could see him from the way it continued to move between the trees, nibbling on the leaves within reach. The wind blew fiercely in his face, but he stared at the doe without blinking, slowly shrugging off the mitten that covered his right hand. As soon as the mana circuit in his hand touched the rifle, he could feel a slight charge, as if lightning had connected him with the weapon, and it sent a thrill through him. Moving carefully, he lifted the rifle, settling the butt firmly against his shoulder as he kept his eyes on the deer. He had never fired a manatech rifle before, and yet the motion felt familiar, as if he had been doing it all his life.

Letting out a slow breath, he said a quiet prayer to his Guardian Spirit as his thumb rested on the mana gem, feeling the connection. As he finished exhaling all of the air from his lungs, he pressed, willing the mana from his thumb into the manastone, setting off the charge. There was a hiss, and then a crack as a beam of pure mana shot from the rifle, tearing through the deer's neck. His shot had been slightly off due to the wobble in the end of the rifle's barrel, and it cut through the deer's throat instead of catching the doe’s spine like he had been aiming for.

With a startled leap, the deer took off across the field, its flight instincts kicking in as it bolted, not realizing that it had been mortally wounded. After a few dozen steps, its blood loss was too great, and it crumpled to the ground in a dark heap. Jumping up, Merrick slung the rifle over his shoulder and put his mitten back on as he sprinted across the field toward the deer. As soon as he was 50 feet away, he could see the deer thrashing, and he hurled a spear with deadly accuracy, planting it in the creature's heart, killing it instantly.

A faint feeling of sorrow engulfed Merrick. He had not intended to cause the deer any pain, and had assumed that the shot would kill it instantly, just as his spear had done. It was a solemn reminder to take hunting with the manatech rifle seriously, and a clear indication that he needed more practice. The smallest wobble in the end of the rifle had a significant impact on accuracy at that range, and what had been a fraction of an inch to him had translated into his shot being a good six inches off. Looking at the wound, Merrick felt lucky he had even hit the deer. If the wobble had been in any other direction, he likely would have missed completely.

Removing the stone blade from the deer's heart, Merrick quickly field dressed the deer, burying the entrails in the snow. He assumed that the shot would have scared all the other prey in the area away, and so, after bleeding the deer, he began the trek back to his camp. Once he was back, he buried some of the deer's meat in the snow to freeze it while he skewered a few venison steaks for himself. That night, as was his practice, he meditated again. Though the mark on his hand was complete, Merrick wasn't satisfied with that. It had struck him that he only felt the connection to his rifle with one hand. What if something were to happen to that hand? He wanted to be able to use manatech devices with both hands, and so he began the slow and laborious process of working on another mana circuit in his other palm. A faint, nebulous idea was starting to build in Merric's head, but he had no clear conception of it, and so he simply focused on the next step in front of him, trusting that he would find his way forward over time.

The next morning, after eating some venison, he set out a chunk of meat to thaw and headed back out into the snow. The first thing he did was check his traps to see if he had managed to catch anything. Two of his traps had been knocked over, and the sight of large paw prints around them gave him pause. Wolves, and not just one or two. He counted at least half a dozen different sized paw prints, and there was one that was especially concerning. Nearly eight inches in length, it featured a distinct broken claw, and was pressed quite deep into the snow, indicating the tremendous weight of the wolf. The wolves had seized whatever creature had been caught in the two traps, tearing the traps apart in the process. In the third trap, Merrick found a frozen snow hare, and after gathering it, he decided not to reset the trap, concerned that he would draw the wolves back to this area.

Instead of continuing his hunt, he retraced his steps toward the cavern, keeping a sharp eye out for any predators, and focused on gathering more wood. His goal was to build up a large stockpile, just in case the snowstorms came again, and he was forced back inside. The deer he had hunted the day before, used sparingly, would last him a month, and so Merrick decided to hunker down for a few days, hoping the wolves were just passing through and would continue on their way. Occasionally, he would go up to the small exit higher up in the cliff, and lay there, looking out over the canyon, keeping watch for the wolves. Once he saw them, led by a massive beast that stood head and shoulders above the others. The pack numbered nearly fifteen, but they were far away over the hills, little more than dots against the white background. They seemed to be ranging further away from him, which he was perfectly happy with, and after four days had passed, he decided to venture out again.

This time, he took a different approach. He had located a small nest of boulders, roughly half a mile from the cave, and it was there he went, settling down in a gap between two of the boulders to wait and see if prey walked by. He had a good field of view with a steep hill in front of him and two groups of trees a few hundred feet to either side. The boulders blocked most of the wind, so he was able to stay fairly warm and for close to six hours, he stayed in place. Trying to move as little as possible, he watched the quiet winter world. Occasionally, he saw some small animals passing by, and hawks would circle overhead, but he was after bigger prey so he remained still. Merric’s patience was finally rewarded when he saw two deer cautiously peeking up over a hill. He had picked this spot because there were two groups of evergreen trees nearby, and he had been hoping that they would attract the attention of wandering deer. Sure enough, after looking around cautiously, the deer began to make their way toward him.