Dawn broke, and all things began to stir.
Waking from his slumber, Kolon touched the golden box, taking comfort in its cold heaviness. He looked around, and as before, aside from the resting crowd, there were no signs of other life.
Perhaps because it was the first time he had taken the life of one of his own kind, his dreams last night were none too pleasant. A dead man had emerged, questioning whether he felt any remorse, but he simply sent the man off with another cut of his blade.
What's done is done, what was there to regret? The indifferent attitudes of the others had already proven who was right and who was wrong. Now, rather than dwelling on the past, it was more urgent to secure more food.
"It's a good thing we still have plants. If there was truly nothing, we might have escaped the flood only to starve to death here."
Shaking his head, despite the fact that it was a divine flood that had left them in this predicament, they still had to rely on the plants fostered by the gods to survive; such was the insurmountable gap between mortals and deities.
Rolling off the stone slab, Kolon woke the others who were still in their dreams. Now that they were safe, it was time to consider their next destination.
For a settlement, safety was of utmost priority, followed closely by proximity to water. The former could be temporarily ignored, as all life around them had been wiped clean, but the latter was an immediate concern.
Floods are dreadful, yet humans cannot live without water. Deciding where to migrate was the issue the survivors needed to solve.
"First off, we can forget about the coastal areas. While I've never seen the sea myself, this disaster was sent by the Sea God."
Sitting on a rock, Kolon spoke indifferently.
"I doubt anyone wants to deal with them again, huh? What do you think?"
"Agreed, we can't go towards the seaside, and the western side is best avoided too. That's the heart of the Eastern Region, where they say Mount Olympus is. I don't want to gamble on the mercy of the gods."
Someone nodded, but also promptly ruled out another option. In such a scenario, they were left with only two directions to choose from: south or north.
"To the south... It is said that the southern waterways are complex, most of them connecting to the ocean, but to the north, even the creator has not spoken much about it."
After a moment of silence, someone else spoke:
"If the gods pay little attention to it, then it's probably the best place for us to settle, though the climate there is colder, the furs we have stored should suffice."
As these words were uttered, they immediately elicited cries of agreement from the people, and Kolon also expressed his approval. However, just as they were settling on a decision, he glanced over the crowd and suddenly furrowed his brow, asking:
"Where's Ruby? Why isn't he here?"
He was an old acquaintance, the first to stand up and 'believe' in him yesterday. But strangely enough, Kolon did not see him among the group.
"He was a bit hungry and went to look for fruit trees nearby—though we still have some stored food, nothing beats the taste of fresh fruit."
Upon hearing this explanation, Kolon nodded. He wasn't particularly concerned and soon started rounding up everyone to pack their things. By midday, they had unearthed their stashed supplies, and a few who had learned the necessary skills came together to assemble a simple cart with the meager materials at hand.
Others set off to gather food, since edible plants were not found everywhere. They attended to their preparations well in advance.
With these tasks complete, Kolon checked the position of the sun and decided they would set off formally after everyone returned in the afternoon. The blazing sun overhead was not the best time for traveling.
Suddenly, a shrill scream pierced through the distance, abruptly alerting the just-settled survivors.
The crowd fell silent for a brief moment, but the mournful howling continued, and the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. At this point, Kolon surprisingly breathed a sigh of relief. If someone had encountered some formidable creature, it would not be possible to still be screaming now. The only likelihood was an accident.
Given the circumstances, it was time for him to step forward.
"Don't panic! I'll go have a look. You all stay here, don't move."
He spoke loudly, stepping forward resolutely under the gaze of everyone. After walking a few hundred paces, beneath a tree's shade, he saw the screaming figure clutching his wrist; it was Ruby, who had left earlier.
Scattered around him were some fruits, and a sharp part of a large stone beneath the tree was smeared with blood, silently narrating what had just happened. The events were clear—it was the mishap of Ruby slipping while picking fruit from the tree, crashing his wrist against the stone, and breaking it as a result.
Seeing a familiar face, Ruby desperately cried out for help, his pain making him feel as if he was dying. Seeing this, Kolon hurried over to support him.
"Don't panic, you're just injured in the hand... looks beyond saving, but luckily it's the left, not so problematic."
He tried to comfort him, but Ruby's cries of pain didn't stop. As Kolon looked at Ruby's wrist still bleeding, a shadow of gloom draped over his mind.
They were few in number, and those he was on good terms with were even fewer. He hoped there would be no more accidents along the journey to come, or else the long road of migration promised to be full of hardships.
In the wake of the disaster, Kolon's group was but a minor chapter on the vast earth. Outside of themselves, no one paid heed to these remnants of a bygone era.
Heading north, the weather gradually grew colder, but fortunately, there were still plenty of animal furs left, helping them fend off the increasingly bitter chill.