Firing the Clay
Although he had finished making the hoe, Chester didn't till the soil right away. He had something else he wanted to do using the newly completed kiln, so he decided to finish that first before preparing the land for farming.
The day after making the push drill and the hoe, Chester told Monia he had something he wanted to do and led her outside. After eating breakfast as part of their daily routine, they washed up at the waterfall and did a quick round to check the traps.
"What is it you want to do?"
"We're going to fire some more clay. I need your help this time."
"Ah, alright."
Once their chores were out of the way, Chester and Monia began digging up a large amount of soil near the shelter. They loosened the earth with wooden blocks, scooped it up, loaded it into baskets, and carried it over to the kiln.
Piling the soil high on a flat stone slab, Chester and Monia sprinkled water over it and began kneading it to make clay.
"Ugh! Ergh."
Not long after they started, Chester heard strange noises coming from Monia's side and looked over.
"Hieek."
Every time she squeezed the mud, Monia grimaced and let out an odd squeak.
"What are you doing?"
"It feels so weird! Ahhh."
Monia was leaning her head as far back as possible, stretching her arms out in an awkward posture to knead the clay. Seeing this, Chester nodded in understanding.
"It does feel a bit strange at first."
"It's cold, and..."
"You'll get used to it soon."
"Are you sure?"
Just as Chester said, the texture of the clay, which had felt incredibly bizarre at first, became familiar after some kneading until she barely minded it at all.
Now accustomed to the mud, Monia worked up a sweat as she pressed, folded, and kneaded the lump of clay. She meticulously worked the mixture, adding a splash of water when it felt too dry, and throwing in more soil when it seemed too wet.
"Ngh! Whew! Hah!"
Managing the heavy, water-logged mass of earth with her slender arms was no easy task.
"Ugh! Haa!"
Monia scooped up a large chunk of clay, slammed it down with a wet thud, and mashed it together again. Her face flushed red from the exertion, glistening with a light sheen of sweat.
"Haa... Whew. You can tell me now. What are we actually making?"
"A roof," Chester said, setting his kneaded clay aside onto the ground next to the stone slab.
"A roof?" Monia followed his lead, scooping her clay aside as well.
"Hmph! Yah!" Even that was difficult because the clay was so heavy.
"Yeah. We always have to replace the roof whenever the leaves rot, right? If we make it out of this, we won't have to do that anymore."
"That does sound nice! But how are we going to make it?"
"Hmm? Just like this..."
Having prepared the clay, Chester took a portion of it and slapped it repeatedly against the stone slab. He kneaded and shaped it, flattening it out into a wide, rectangular sheet.
Then, using a twig, he drew deep, parallel grooves along one side of the flat rectangular tile.
"Make a bunch of these."
"Why did you make those grooves?"
"We'll need them later. Make sure you carve them in."
"Alright."
Monia hummed a tune as she scooped up a handful of the set-aside clay, placed it on the stone slab, and began working it with her hands.
She kneaded the clay, patted it flat with her palms, and tapped the edges to form a neat rectangle.
After carving the grooves into the tile with a twig, Monia tried to lift it off.
"...?"
However, the clay clung stubbornly to the stone slab, tearing and ruining the tile she had worked so hard to shape.
"Ughhh."
Staring at the ruined piece with a pout, Monia glanced over to see how Chester was doing it.
Chester had sprinkled some dry, loose soil—which he had kept separate—onto the stone slab before kneading and shaping his clay on top of it.
Monia quickly copied his method, and the two chatted as they worked on making the clay tiles.
"Aren't we running low on salt soon?"
"You're right. Shall we head down to the beach? It's been a while."
Down at the beach, they had laid out numerous split bamboo stalks and filled them with seawater. Since the weather was getting hotter, they had set it up so they only needed to drop by occasionally to harvest the salt.
"I hope we got a lot of salt!"
"That would be nice."
"You know, there are desserts where salt is used to bring out the sweetness. Do you think that would work if we sprinkled salt on fruit?"
"Probably. Sweetness is sweetness, after all."
"Let's try it on the candy fruit!"
At the mention of the candy fruit, Chester looked at Monia in surprise. When she had first tasted it, she had been so disappointed that she treated it like the most repulsive thing on earth. What brought this on?
"Oh? You want to give it a shot?"
When Chester asked with a slight smirk, Monia averted her eyes and spoke defensively.
"Even something that tastes that bad might become delicious if we treat it right, don't you think? Besides, we can gather them in abundance, so it's better to make use of them."
Monia was simply starting to see the world in a new light, thinking she should give things she once disliked another chance. Sensing this shift in her, Chester looked at her with a hint of pride and chuckled warmly.
"Ha! Hahaha."
"What?"
"Nothing, nothing."
To think she's using words like 'make use of.' Is this how Father felt?
Whenever Chester had gone beyond what his father taught him and applied it to something new, his father would praise him to high heaven and throw a celebration. He had been so dramatic about it, bragging to the entire village that his son was a genius, that Chester had ended up teased by his friends the very next day.
It actually feels pretty good.
To Chester, Monia had initially been someone he simply had to keep alive. A partial hindrance, worth about half a person. She was helpful when raw labor was needed, but otherwise, she was the type of presence where having her absent was more helpful than having her around.
But she was changing. She had hunted a pig with a club she made herself, volunteered to learn archery, and now she was talking about trying something new again. And of all things, she wanted to find a use for something she had utterly detested.
Impressive, truly impressive.
Chester and Monia lined up the clay tiles to dry, wrapping up their outdoor work for the day. Having spent so much time under the hot sun, they planned to start the farming in earnest tomorrow.
"Let's go get the salt tomorrow."
"Okay. I just hope my soles don't get scorched..."
"We'll just have to move fast."
After heading back inside, Chester went into his workshop to craft a talon knife, while Monia sat beside him, working on a piece of bamboo.
She split the top section of a round bamboo stalk and ground it against a stone slab to flatten it. Once she had made it as flat as possible, she pulled out her stone knife. She figured the stone knife, being thinner than the talon knife, would be better suited for this delicate task.
Pressing the stone knife against the bamboo, she began to scrape. Once she carved a groove, she moved slightly to the side and carved another. She repeated the process, carving groove after groove, side by side.
After carving a neat row of grooves from one end of the bamboo to the other, she fetched a branch of moderate thickness that fit perfectly in her grip.
She lightly trimmed and carved the branch with a talon knife. Once it was shaped into a handle, she scraped a groove near the top. Just like making a handle for a stone knife or a talon knife, she prepared the slot, then took the carved bamboo piece and fitted it in.
Wrapping a cord tightly around the grooves to bind them together, Monia finished her work. She blew a soft breath, pfoo, scattering the bamboo dust clinging to her creation.
"It's finished!"
Holding her newly completed creation, Monia ran it through her hair for the first time in ages. She had made a comb.
"Hehehe. Want me to comb yours too?"
"Huh? Why would you?"
"Come on, don't be like that."
Monia stepped behind Chester and gently began combing through his hair.
"It's amazing. We've been here for so long, yet your hair hasn't gotten damaged at all!"
"The same goes for you, doesn't it?"
"True. I wonder why?"
"There's probably something in our daily diet that's good for hair." Chester didn't pay much mind to it.
"Hmm? Can diet really make that much of a difference?"
"A well-fed child grows tall and sturdy, while a malnourished one stays small and frail. You are what you eat."
"Is that why our skin is so smooth too?"
"Well, I wouldn't know about that," Chester replied, inspecting the edge of the knife he had been grinding.
A dark silhouette slipped into the water source of the Floating Island.
Inside a gaping cavern within the towering mountain at the center of the island lay a vast, deep lake, formed by filtered seawater bubbling up from the depths.
Diving deep into the water, the dark figure reached out and grabbed a mysteriously glowing, beautiful stone embedded in the cavern wall.
With a simple squeeze of its hand, the figure crushed the stone into a fine powder, then swam back up and emerged from the lake.
Once ashore, it approached a wounded member of its pack.
"..." "..."
As if performing a sacred ritual, the figure danced around its injured kin, chanting unintelligible sounds before rubbing its palms together to grind the stone into an even finer dust.
It sprinkled the powder over the wound. Miraculously, fresh flesh rapidly surged forth, and the injury began to knit shut.
Having confirmed that the wound was fully healed, they left the recovered member and another to tend to it, while the rest of the pack began to move out.
Propelling themselves forward on all fours, they set off toward the enemy who had dared to harm their kin. Toward vengeance.