SW - Chapter 3 - The Boy in the Wild (2) (Patreon)

(Word Count: 2,160)

At that moment, when his emotions were at their highest, a wave of force burst out from his hand. It slammed into the panther, sending it crashing into a tree with a sick thud.

The panther died on the spot. It fell lifelessly to the ground.

It was as if time paused for Merlin as he stared at the body. One moment he was about to die, and the next, well, the panther was dead. ‘Accidental magic,’ he thought numbly.

He shakily got back to his feet, taking a moment to catch his breath, taking it all in. He truly didn't know how to feel. On the one hand, he had finally used magic! That was him! On the other hand, after spending his life longing for the wonders of magic, the first thing he had used magic for was to kill. So he was both excited and happy, as well as sick to his stomach.

Merlin sighed. Complicated emotions or not, he was still alive, and for that he should be grateful. ‘Now, what to do with this animal?’ Well, he was pretty hungry, and the cat wanted to eat him, so fair's fair, right? Not to mention, if he could extract one of those claws, it would be useful as a tool to work with. 

He looked up at the sky, and from what little he could see of the sky, he could tell that it was getting dark. He needed to make a shelter for the night quickly. He wasn't concerned about freezing to death, since it was so hot, but he was concerned about wind, bugs, and, most dangerous, rain.

First things first, he needed to find a spot to build the shelter. Merlin grabbed the dead panther and dragged it along and he searched. He didn't want to leave it behind for some scavengers to find. 

Eventually, he found a tree that had fallen over, and the base of the tree had a chunk of ground and roots that had been pulled out when it fell. That would make for one side already, so that made building easier.

He left the panther on the ground and started ripping out the foliage around the root wall and piling it up off to the side.

A few hours later, he had a makeshift sort of lean-to propped up against the root wall, as well as a makeshift cot made of some of the sturdier branches he could find. The last thing you wanted when out in the wilderness was to sleep on the ground. He wasn't the most outdoorsy person, but he knew at least that much.

It was fully dark by now, and he was starving. He needed to make a fire to cook, and to ward off any other predators that might be attracted to the smell of cooking. Or to the blood from butchering the panther.

He had plenty of sticks and dead wood, and kindling, but no clean chopped logs since he didn't have an axe or saw. He crouched down next to the pile of wood and pointed a finger at the kindling. “Incendio!”

Nothing.

Merlin closed his eyes and thought of a small gout of flame shooting out of his fingertips. “Incendio!”

He peeked an eye open. Still nothing. Merlin sighed. “Come on, work with me here, magic! I need fire!”

He closed his eyes again, pushing away his doubts. He knew he could use magic. He had done so before! ‘Well, it was accidental magic—’ No. If he could do accidental magic, then he could do magic intentionally. He just had to remember the feeling. ‘There was a pulling sensation from my core, something was drawn out.’

Focusing on that feeling, as well as picturing the gout of flame, Merlin pointed his finger again and commanded, “Incendio!”

Small wicks of flame sprung to life inside the kindling. Merlin's syed widened. “YES!” He cheered, hopping to his feet excitedly, both arms raised as he looked around as if there were going to be someone, anyone, who saw it happen so he wasn't crazy.

The small bit of flame died down immediately to mere embers. “Oh, shoot!” Merlin rushed to kneel down and start hastily blowing to keep it alive.

Luckily, he managed to save it, and he soon had a roaring fire going. 

Merlin dragged the panther away quite a bit, so none of the smell attracted anything directly to the campsite, and rolled it over to get better access to the paw. He grabbed one of the knuckles and extended the claw out. It was far smaller than he had been thinking, only about an inch long. Still, it was better than nothing and would help cut the skin of the panther open so he could get some meat for dinner.

He grabbed the claw and pulled hard to rip it out. It was gruesome bloody work, but it did eventually rip out.

“Ugh!” Merlin was disgusted, but it was only the beginning.

Using the small claw, he began the messy work.

He didn't skin the entire thing, that would have taken far too long. He only cut away enough to get a chunk of meat for dinner, and another for breakfast tomorrow. That was all he needed really, since he should be able to make it to town tomorrow.

Still, he ended up with blood all over him.

‘This is so disgusting!’ Merlin grimaced as he felt sticky blood all over. ‘Ugh, I'm going to have to sleep in this!’

This was, officially, one of the worst nights he has ever had. 

He grabbed the two chunks of meat and brought them back to the camp. He stuck the two of them on a long stick, one was placed above the fire to cook, and the other was placed higher up in the smoke to cure throughout the night.

As they were cooking, he turned his attention to his bloody mess. He closed his eyes again, imagining that pull from his core and a clean body. “Tergeo!”

Nothing. Merlin groaned pitifully. “Please work, I really don't want to sleep like this! Tergeo! Scourgify!”

But it was useless. No matter how he tried, he couldn't get it to work.

He thought of how thirsty he was, and cupped his hands. “Aguamenti!”

This time, a few drops of water appeared in his hands. It wasn't much, but at least it was something. He didn't drink it and instead used that to help clean his hands at least a little bit.

‘What changed? Why did incendio and aguamenti work, as little as it did, but scourgify and tergeo didn't?’ He thought about it. ‘Could it be that it was because of my needs? I needed fire for warmth and safety, and I needed water because I was thirsty?’

But that led to more questions. ‘Does magic determine what I need, or was it a subconscious primal desire that influenced my magic? Even though I want to get clean, perhaps I don't subconsciously view it as a necessity on the same level as food, water, and safety.’

It was all so fascinating.

Merlin repeated the aguamenti spell as many times as he could. Summoning only a few drops at a time didn't really help in washing his hands, but he eventually got to the point where he at least wasn't sticky anymore.

As for his clothes… well, there wasn't really much he could do about it. He would just have to dry it out by sticking close to the fire.

He ate his meal and curled up on the small wooden cot, trying to get comfortable. The wood had a bunch of small branches sticking out every which way, so there was always something poking at him no matter how he positioned himself. 

Still, he knew it was better than sleeping on the ground.

Merlin side. ‘Tonight's going to suck.’

~ OP:SW ~

Merlin groaned, trying to tease the sore knots out of his neck. He may be young again, but even the young don't take too well to sleeping on gnarly branches. He hurt everywhere, sore from the poor bed as well as all of the exertion he went through yesterday. He hadn't moved like that in years.

To make matters worse, he felt like he was eaten alive last night. In a jungle environment like this island, the amount of bugs out last night was just absurd. Raising his bed off the jungle floor may have prevented many, if not all, crawling bugs like ants or spiders, it did nothing to protect him from mosquitos. The fire and smoke helped a little bit, but there was only so much it could do.

He was covered in mosquito bites everywhere and was itchy everywhere.

All of that, combined with constantly waking up to stoke the fire, and then running out of firewood halfway through the night?

It made for a miserable morning.

‘I definitely need to figure out a spell to keep bugs away. Maybe Repello Insectum would work? Though with how weak my magic is without a wand, I think I’ll need to craft one first before I can start testing out new magic.’

He checked the meat he had smoked last night above the fire. There were some ants chewing away at it, but it seemed like it had smoked pretty well.

He brushed off the ants and started eating. He didn't have the luxury to throw away food just because some bugs were chewing on it.

Time to be on the way again. The sooner he got out of this jungle, the better. He had been chased a fair bit yesterday, so he had been pretty turned around and now he had no idea where he was.

He climbed another tree to get a bead on what direction the town he had spotted before was.

Merlin made his way that way. Honestly, the town was probably founded near some sort of outlet for the river made from the run off for the island's water, so if he found that river—or even just a creek that fed into that river—then he could follow that down to the town.

Though, with this jungle-like environment, the river probably meant crocodiles. 

‘Better than another panther,’ Merlin thought dryly. From what he knew about crocodiles, they usually didn't bother trying to kill you unless you were within snapping distance. Plus, he could probably outrun one of them if he dodged between the trees.

Knowing he would probably run into the river eventually as he traveled in the town's direction, he continued on, eyes peeled for any danger.

As he traveled, he kept practicing his magic. “Leviosa!” He muttered, pointing at a small rock he held in his other hand. It would jiggle around for a bit before failing. But the good news was that he could now consistently call upon magic using that feeling of draining from his gut.

He smiled from sheer giddiness each time. He was getting better!

Though saying pulling the magic “from his gut” was wrong. Magic didn't come from the gut. That was just the convenient way to describe the bodily location. In reality, it felt like it was drawn out from a fundamentally deeper part of himself. It likely came from some sort of spiritual center. Many cultures reference such things; China had the dantian; India had the chakras, Old Irish had the three cauldrons, or “coires”; and Nordic myth had the different parts of the soul; and many others.

Merlin wanted to delve deeper into the theory—the nordic tradition of the soul and magic was calling out to him—to try and figure out how magic worked precisely, but traversing through a jungle wasn't really the best time for that. He could only put it off for now. Maybe once he got into town and could actually sit down for a bit, he could go over the details.

In his distracted state, Merlin misplaced his foot and stumbled to the ground, getting his face and arms scraped up by the undergrowth as he fell.

He hissed in pain, gingerly checking his scrapes. A thin trickle of blood came from the one on his face.

Merlin bit back a curse. He would have to learn how to navigate this jungle if he wanted to toughen up and use it for training. Luffy, Ace, and Sabo were able to run around with ease right around this same age. He sighed. Okay, perhaps he didn't have to get quite on the same level as they do physically, but he would need to at least get strong enough to hunt one of the big monster-sized animals for his first wand.

Picking himself back up, he trudged onward.

‘I look like some wild kid who's been in the jungle for years,’ he mused to himself. How would the town's people react to him just suddenly showing up?

It was about time to find out.