The next day, Verd awoke closer to noon. The long sleep brought no relief—only intensified his torment. Instead of feeling refreshed, waking up turned into a feverish heat that consumed his body. His face, pale as ivory, was covered in relentless drops of sweat.
No sooner had he crawled out of the corpse than the first thing Verd saw was the rays of the sun. Along with them, another coughing fit twisted his insides, and blood gushed from his mouth. He tried to wipe his lips, but his hand shook violently.
But that was far from the worst. In the naive hope that simply eating might quell his affliction, he tried to stand. That proved futile. His body, as if betraying him, grew weaker by the second. First his legs, then his arms—only his fingers remained somewhat mobile.
'What's happening…'
Unable to even turn his head, Verd abandoned all attempts and remained lying down. Lying in a position where one half of his body was bathed in bright sunlight while the other lay in the mud.
His head rested so that he could only look at his wound. The rough fabric he had used to stop the bleeding was now soaked through with blood, so much so that it had lost any trace of its original color.
The next few hours passed in miserable spirits. But then, resigned, Verd managed to take a deep breath of fresh, cool air. It was a revelation to him. Having spent his entire life in mines where the air smelled only of dust, dirt, and the stench of other people, he had almost forgotten what breath could be like.
He hadn't noticed it before, simply because there had never been time. And now, finding himself in such a situation, he could finally pay attention to such a small thing.
'I probably should have just sat and breathed fresh air from time to time'
And most importantly, without this pain that Verd was currently experiencing.
The throbbing heat and gnawing pain gradually receded. With immense effort, he rose, leaning against a tree, and untied his makeshift bandage. The condition of his arm inspired only despair: a red stain was spreading rapidly, and a murky fluid oozed from the wound.
'Once again, I'm amazed at what a lucky person I am'
Infection, flashed through his mind. How had he managed to end up in such a situation?
It was precisely at that moment when he decided to slip along the ground. Happy that he had lost only an arm, Verd hadn't noticed anything. He couldn't have imagined how much more serious it all really was.
While butchering the bird, he noticed one thing: its feathers and ice plates were giving off moisture. Plucking several, he ran them over the blade with a trembling hand. The blade gradually became cleaner, leaving no trace of blood. After finishing this makeshift "cleaning" of the sword, Verd raised it before his face. In the reflection, he saw an indecisive, tense face.
'In any case, I have no other choice'
Feeling that leaving things as they were was a bad idea, Verd, resigned, shoved a piece of raw meat into his mouth. Having made sure his jaw was clenched tight, he brought the blade to the remaining part of his arm.
Taking a deep breath, he felt his face contort in pain the next moment. Blood, mixed with putrid fluid, gushed around him. The already slightly dull blade couldn't finish the job in one go, only prolonging the agony. The sword got stuck several times, causing unbearable pain. His teeth became a vice, and he nearly bit off the chunk of raw meat.
'It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!' – the only thought, muffled by the sounds of tearing flesh.
When it was over, part of his arm fell into a pool of blood. Air hissed from his lungs. It seemed the torture was over, and one could hope that everything had turned out fine. But who knew what terrible thoughts lurked in Verd's mind?
Due to severe blood loss, Verd's vision grew slightly hazy. However, he couldn't afford to pass out without stopping the bleeding. After such torment, it seemed things couldn't get worse, but as it turned out, for Verd, the suffering was only beginning.
'Damn… If after all this I don't manage to survive on this island! Who knows what I'll do to that creature in the heavens'
His consciousness gradually began to separate from his body. Gathering his last strength, Verd managed to, so to speak, toss the sword's tip into the fire. With his consciousness "drifting," he could hold on a little longer. Raising the blade, a doubt flashed through his mind, but it vanished instantly. With a sharp motion, so as not to have time to be afraid, he pressed the red-hot blade to the stump, where his hand once used to be.
The metal bit into the flesh with a hiss and crackle. The smell of burnt meat hit his nose, mixing with the taste of blood in his mouth. The pain was so overwhelming, so bright and white, that for a moment Verd felt as if his consciousness had finally broken free from its anchor and fled into impenetrable darkness. But his body, betrayed by his soul, jerked in a spasm, pulling him back into the hell of the present.
He didn't scream. The air escaped his lungs in a silent, hoarse groan. His eyes rolled back, the world swam, darkening at the edges. His hand—or rather, what remained of it—twitched in a final agony of nerves, but he dropped the blade. Now his only task was not to fall face-first into the mud. He leaned his back against the cold scales of the dead bird, feeling waves of nausea and heat give way to a freezing chill.
'Live…' he commanded himself mentally. 'I must survive! There is no other option!'
No matter how strong the desire to remain conscious, he was still an ordinary person. And his body, having reached its limit, shut down.
***
Once again finding himself in an enclosed space, Verd recognized the familiar tightness. The image of a chalice flashed before his eyes, awakening a vague sense of déjà vu.
Unlike the last time, now, although it wasn't clear, he could at least think. However, in exchange, someone had deprived him of the ability to move. He merely floated in the void, unable to do anything, condemned to spin endlessly.
'What kind of place is this?'
His gaze darted about feverishly, but in this homogeneous emptiness, finding something different from the surroundings would be nothing short of a miracle.
'Some kind of devilry. Why am I having such dreams?'
The moment this thought flashed through his mind, a new one arose: was this even a dream at all?
'Well… it looks quite real.'
The reason he, looking down, stopped worrying, lay in a phrase he had overheard by chance.
Trying to glean at least some grain of information from the outside world, he once heard it from a girl chatting animatedly in the crowd.
Usually, children try to stand out and say a lot. Verd decided to take advantage of the moment. According to the girl, she had found herself in the same space as him. Unfortunately, he only managed to catch a short phrase, which, as it turned out, brought him unexpected salvation.
'If you have legs, then you are not in a dream' – he repeated mentally, smiling.
He easily returned to his usual calm.
'One thing I'm sure of: this is not a dream. But then what is this place?'
Time in this space flowed according to different, incomprehensible laws. It seemed it didn't exist at all, and Verd was left only to count the unreachable seconds. Nothing happened, until one moment.
When he was on the verge of falling into a second sleep, the figure of a person appeared before him. Or rather, something vaguely resembling one. A yellow silhouette, woven from bright tongues of flame, walked toward Verd. He squinted, trying to make out the figure. As it approached, details became distinguishable: long tongues of flame at the top took on the features of a face and hair. In the outlines, something like a long dress could be seen.
'Maybe this creature knows something? About what this place is?'
When the fiery figure came close, Verd tried to say something, but then immediately remembered he couldn't even open his mouth.
'Right…'
They stood close together; Verd was upside down and looked at the inverted face. For several seconds, they studied each other, waiting for the first move. And the figure made it.
It extended its hand, straight toward his face. Immediately, the flame radiated a heat that touched his cheek. Almost instantly, Verd realized something was wrong. Unlike the burning sensation when he had cauterized his wound, this flame acted differently. Each millimeter of its approach burned a strange, prickly feeling into his soul, as if millions of invisible needles had plunged inside, reaching the most hidden corners of his existence.
When the fiery hand nearly touched him, Verd instinctively curled up in pain.
'Damn… why do I always end up in these situations!'
And just when it seemed everything was about to end, suddenly, as if out of nowhere, another silhouette appeared. This one, however, was of the opposite, black color. It quickly pulled her hand away, and with a single motion, brought Verd back to consciousness.
He jolted upright, coughing up a little blood. He looked at the puddle beneath him, and one simple question arose in his mind. Where did he have so much blood?
With difficulty, leaning on his arm, he turned over and sat up. His gaze fixed on the sky. Today, it wasn't its usual blue, but snow-white, like a canvas hidden by thick mist merging with the clouds.
As soon as the mist began to thicken, goosebumps ran down his body.
'It's gotten kind of scary.'
Approaching the edge, he looked down. As expected, nothing was visible. Not that he intended to commit any mad act. At least, not yet. So, approaching the bird's body, he decided to have a bite to eat, as his stomach was cramping with hunger. And, it must be said, he was extremely surprised.
'What the hell is this?' – he thought, eyes wide open.
Instead of the one, already decomposed body, with its gray-green tint and foul stench, two more lay on top of it.
'How did they appear here?!'
Quickly looking around, he was once again convinced he was alone on the island, and cautiously approached the bodies.
After examining them carefully, it became clear. They had died at the hands of some powerful beast.
In the middle of their chests gleamed a huge, gaping wound, as if someone's wide palm had passed right through. Realizing they were dead, Verd didn't dwell on the details of their appearance. He simply began to butcher them.
He already had a little experience, so the butchering went faster. Besides meat, he found two cores inside the bodies. Moreover, one of them glowed red. However, due to his illiteracy, Verd simply set it aside for some suitable moment.
The meat was gradually browning over the fire, while Verd himself lay under a tree. Suddenly, right from under the ground, a rumble came, shaking everything around. Almost immediately, several more followed.
Verd swallowed the lump in his throat and hastily grabbed the meat.
'Good thing I'm high up in the sky…'