The Luna Trials

Episode 14

The blindfold trial left us all drained, muscles aching and nerves frayed. But there was no rest for the weary in this twisted game. No sooner had we caught our breath than we were whisked away to our next challenge.

They dropped us in a secluded area, dense forest on all sides. No food. No water. Just the clothes on our backs and whatever we'd managed to hold onto through the previous trials.

"Your task," came the disembodied voice we'd all come to hate, "is simple. Survive. Hunt, gather, forage. Those who can't feed themselves... well, I'm sure you can imagine the consequences."

As the voice faded, I saw the others exchange glances. Uncertainty. Fear. Weakness. I felt none of it. This was my element. Time to show these amateurs how it's done.

Without a word, I grabbed my bow and headed into the forest. Let them stumble around, wasting time with pointless discussions. I had work to do.

The forest was alive with potential food sources. Berries on low-hanging bushes. Roots that, properly prepared, could sustain a person for days. Small game darting between the trees. To the untrained eye, it might have seemed bountiful. I knew better.

Half those berries were probably poisonous. The roots would take too long to prepare. And the game? Skittish. Wary. It would take skill to bring anything down.

Good thing I had skill in spades.

I moved silently through the underbrush, eyes and ears alert for any sign of prey. A rustle to my left caught my attention. I froze, barely breathing. There. A rabbit, nose twitching as it nibbled on some leaves.

Slowly, I nocked an arrow. Drew back the string. Breathed out. Released.

The arrow flew true, embedding itself in the rabbit's side. A clean kill. I allowed myself a small smile as I retrieved my prey. First blood to me.

As I field-dressed the rabbit, my mind wandered to the others. What were they doing? Had they managed to find any food? Part of me hoped they hadn't. It would prove what I already knew - that I was the best, the most capable.

But another part, a part I tried to ignore, whispered doubts. What if they were doing better than me? What if, while I was out here alone, they were pooling their resources, working together?

I shook off the thought. Teamwork was for the weak. I'd survived this long on my own, and I'd keep surviving.

Hours passed. The sun climbed high in the sky, then began its descent. I'd managed to bag another rabbit and a handful of eggs from a low-lying nest. Not a feast, but enough to keep me going.

As I searched for a safe spot to make camp, a flash of color caught my eye. There, kneeling by a stream, was Elara. Her hands were full of plants - edible ones, if I wasn't mistaken.

For a moment, I considered slipping away unnoticed. But hunger and curiosity got the better of me. I stepped into view, making sure to keep my distance.

"Quite the haul you've got there," I said, my voice carefully neutral.

Elara jumped, nearly dropping her plants. "Oh! MaryJane. I... I didn't see you there."

I gestured to her full hands. "Looks like you've been busy."

She nodded, a hesitant smile on her face. "I know a little about edible plants. Not much, but... well, it's something."

"Something indeed," I murmured, eyeing the plants with poorly concealed interest.

Elara must have noticed. "Would you... like to share?" she offered tentatively. "I've got more than enough, and I saw you got some game earlier..."

I stiffened. Share? Was this some kind of trick? My eyes narrowed, searching Elara's face for any sign of deceit. But all I saw was open honesty. Which, in its own way, was even more suspicious.

"What's the catch?" I demanded.

Elara blinked, taken aback. "Catch? There's no catch. I just thought... well, we could trade. Your meat for some of my plants. We'd both have a more balanced meal that way."

It made sense. Too much sense. Every instinct screamed at me to refuse, to walk away. Relying on others was dangerous. Trusting was deadly.

But hunger was a powerful motivator. And a balanced meal did sound appealing...

"Fine," I said abruptly. "But on one condition. You swear an oath."

"An... oath?" Elara looked confused.

"Swear that this isn't a trick," I pressed. "That the plants aren't poisonous. That you won't try to steal my share in the night."

Understanding dawned in Elara's eyes, followed quickly by hurt. "MaryJane, I would never-"

"Swear it," I interrupted, "or no deal."

For a long moment, Elara just looked at me. I met her gaze unflinchingly, daring her to refuse. Finally, she nodded.

"I swear," she said softly. "On my life, on everything I hold dear. This is not a trick. The plants are safe. And I won't steal from you."

I studied her face, looking for any sign of deception. Finding none, I nodded curtly. "Alright then. Let's trade."

We divided our resources quickly and efficiently. As much as I hated to admit it, Elara's plants were a welcome addition to my meat. Vitamins. Fiber. Things my body desperately needed.

As night began to fall, we made our way back to the clearing where we'd started. Gerald and Finn were already there, a small fire crackling between them. They looked up as we approached, surprise evident on their faces.

"Well, well," Gerald drawled. "Look who decided to grace us with her presence."

I ignored him, settling down on the opposite side of the fire. Elara, after a moment's hesitation, sat beside me.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group. I could feel their eyes on me, curious, wary. Let them look. Let them wonder. I owed them nothing.

As we ate our meager meals, I found myself watching the others from beneath lowered lashes. Gerald, tearing into some kind of root with more enthusiasm than skill. Finn, methodically working his way through a handful of berries. Elara, carefully rationing her share of the rabbit.

For a brief, mad moment, I considered suggesting we pool our resources. We'd all fare better with a variety of foods. But the thought passed as quickly as it came. This wasn't about faring better. It was about surviving. Winning.

I turned my attention back to my own meal, pushing down the gnawing feeling in my gut. It wasn't hunger. I had food. It was something else. Something I refused to name.

As the fire burned low and the others began to settle in for the night, I remained vigilant. One eye on the forest, watching for threats. One eye on my companions, watching for betrayal.

This was my life now. Constant vigilance. Constant suspicion. Constant loneliness.

But it was the price of survival. And I would pay it, no matter the cost.

As the stars wheeled overhead and the night creatures began their symphony, I allowed myself a small, grim smile. Another day survived. Another challenge overcome.

Let tomorrow bring what it may. I would be ready.

I had to be.