《Calf the Furless (First Edition)》Chapter 12: True Beginnings - Fruits of the Tree
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Calf felt his ankles tremble as the old man departed and he remembered the unwanted gifts that had been attached to him. He went to one knee, pulling out his carving knife and using it to separate the fruits at the connecting vine. He fisted the knife, thumb-up, and inserted it between the vine and his ankle, blade-side facing out. He brought it up in an outward cut achieving nothing. Confused, he repeated the action with more force expecting better results but flattening the serrations on the knife instead. Seeing this, he gave up any more attempts at resisting and resigned to his new burden. Despite their indestructible nature, a few stomps confirmed the reduction in their pull to a manageable weight.
'At least his words on the weight reduction were not just talk,' he thought. With time and practice, he was sure it would get to a point where it would almost be as if they weren't there. Done with the anklets he returned his attention to his rewards. With clumsy steps, he made for the tree on which the huge arrows had been lodged. Now that he had time to inspect it, the area around the tree was very peculiar as there were no fallen branches underneath it. The arrows were a ways up the tree so Calf had to find a way to get to them. The lowest branch was too high for him to reach for so this wouldn't be an option. Spotting a foothold a few inches off the ground, he placed his right foot in only for it to slip on the bark. He recalled the old man's scruffy sandal and though he was skeptical, he tried it on and it was a perfect fit. He took another step into the foothold with the be-sandalled foot and this time he didn't slip. Satisfied he took out his knife and made to stick it deep into the tree for purchase with an overhead stab, but the bark pushed back in response, rocking him into a teetering one-legged stance. That toughness explained the lack of fallen branches in the area and it had him shaking his head in amazement, wondering whether it was the old man's strength or the sharpness of the arrowheads that had managed to overcome the tree's bark.
Looking around, he noticed that though most of the trees differed in shape and color, the patterning of their bark looked quite like the Rooster's tree. Suspecting he'd encounter similar issues with these trees, he headed west in a sprint only stopping when he spotted some familiar plants. He approached a cluster of brambles, stripping the leaves off a few of the vines before cutting roughly equal lengths from each. He made short work of the braiding and hung the completed loops diagonally over a shoulder before rushing back to the rooster's tree and getting straight to work.
He took the longest loop of rope from his shoulder and threw one end over the rooster's former perch before looping the other end around a rock near the trunk. He used the line to scale the tree until he was at the height of the first arrowhead, the broadhead. Gripping it by the leather wrap around it, he braced himself before forcefully pulling it out, anticipating a lot of resistance. The arrowhead slid out easily and the momentum sent him flying from the tree. In an act of desperation, he struck the trunk will all the strength he could muster in the hopes of limiting the damage by reducing the speed of the fall. To his shock, the arrowhead struck true and deep, his body jerking in response to the suddenly arrested descent. Recovered, he reached for the rope with one hand and tentatively pulled out the arrowhead, which slid out with little resistance again. He stabbed into the trunk with less force only for the tip to easily pierce the trunk, even with the reduced force behind it. He swirled the arrow and the blade edge created a new potential foothold in an instant. He decided to utilize the arrowhead in his right hand to create new footholds up to the second arrow.
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Within a few minutes, he was hanging face to face with the second arrow and noticed something strange as he pulled it out. The incision from the first arrow had disappeared, the spot it had previously occupied appearing unscathed albeit without the bark. Curious, he looked down, inspecting the footholds near the base of the trunk, and confirming his suspicions. The tree was healing any damage dealt to it at an incredible rate as all the footholds near the base were already healed over. His mind worked fast, drumming up the tree's assumed properties and ways they could be leveraged, which he immediately whittled down through a process of trial and error.
He made his way onto the rooster's former perch, scuffing the surface for better purchase. He'd have to remember to renew the scuffs wherever he stood lest he slips. Selecting a thin branch just around the bend from his position, he used a combination of rope and new footholds to shimmy to a thicker branch adjacent to it. Settled, he grabbed it and pulled it towards himself, feeling the tension build up as it bent closer. Cautiously, he continued bending it till it formed a quivering curve before slowly releasing his hold. If he erred on the release, the recoil would send him flying off the tree, an experience he wouldn’t want to repeat any time soon. Satisfied with its response to horizontal stress, he applied a downward force instead, testing his hypothesis from when the rooster had transformed. He expected a slightly different result given how thin his test branch was but despite its appearance, the branch resisted all efforts to push it down. Having confirmed the tree fibers' response to stress, he cut off the tip of the branch and scuffed it in the middle before turning his efforts towards observation.
In five minutes, the branch had grown its tip back, but the cutlet remained unchanged, the scuffs still visible on it. For the last test, he removed a larger tip, carving into the tip's flat end to produce a slight wedge point before sharpening the branch to accommodate the tip. He placed the tip over the sharpened branch and waited. The exposed parts of the branch regenerated as expected, growing into the wedge. Calf had expected the branch to grow back to its original length, extending through the tip and breaking it in the process. He got a favorable result instead, the tip appearing grafted to the branch after the process. He applied pressure to the tip from different angles, twisting and bending it but the graft held, the tip remaining in place. For the last test, he cut off the tip and waited for the regeneration to kick in. As soon as it started, he sliced off a small piece from the side of the branch and stepped back for a better look. The regeneration at the tip had stopped as soon as the branch had been nicked elsewhere, only continuing after the latest damage had been dealt with. Done experimenting and in need of a stretch, he decided to climb down the tree.
He approached the spot where the rooster's blood had dripped, noticing the thin line of silver running down one of the tree's roots. With the slimmer arrowhead, he quickly carved around the area, breaking the piece off before trimming it until only a silver stick remained. He played with the stick in his hand, noting how light it was for its size. He tried to bend it to no avail and now curious, tried to stab it into the tree. The stick rebounded off the trunk, failing to leave even a scratch on it, the stick remaining unscathed as well. He used the stick to dig out 4 silver drops that had congealed into a pebble-like form in the soil then placed the drops and his twig into his supply sack. With rewards in hand, he approached the tree and slid to a sitting position. He rested his back on the trunk and took a moment to breathe. Now that he was finally stationary and idle, all his thoughts and emotions on tonight's events rolled in unbidden.
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'An apprenticeship, my new station? None of that is acceptable!' Calf thought to himself. He'd given it his all till he'd finally triumphed over the challenge, yet he was being instructed to present his reward in deference. The wily old hare had indeed tricked him into the extended rites, but nothing could be done about that now. He would've ignored the trickery and approached any other challenges the man would be willing to throw at him, albeit with caution, had the man's flight not taken that option away. Now, he could only make the best of what he'd received already.
'If only the arrowheads were silver. I might not be able to use them myself, but they would still qualify as a symbol for the throne,' he thought.
He'd immediately dismissed the suggestion of fetching a prospective mentor from the village. If he was going to present something, he'd rather do it respectfully and on his terms. He'd decided to fashion the best shafts he could from the peculiar wood, making use of the tree's abnormal regeneration for the hafting. That was all well and good, but the thought of giving away his rewards after all the effort it had taken to get them still irked him.
'It wouldn't be my defiance if I followed someone else's plans all the way. I will use all I've learned to make the best of these materials. I will forego the arrows and make something fit for my use as my first real act of defiance! And once my work is done, I will silver it myself!' he resolved.
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He got up and made his way up the tree again, this time a bit faster and with more confidence. He stuck the slender arrowhead in a thin branch he intended to carve for its shaft. Using the broadhead he removed the front section of the branch, letting it drop to the ground. He filed the jagged tip till it was almost flat, cutting out a wedge at the center to accommodate the arrowhead. Given the slender arrowhead had flanges for the hafting, he would need material to tie the head to the haft. He removed the bark from the trunk and made a shallow, slanted cut into it. With a steady hand he removed the thinnest layer of skin he could manage, trimming it further till it was so thin he could almost see through it. He cut it into strips, keeping one in hand and placing the rest in his pouch. Next, he marked an area 3 inches long and an inch away from the edge before reducing its girth.
He carved two crisscrossing spiral indentations along the shaved section of the branch before wedging the slender head in and tying it in place with the thin strip. He braided the opposite ends of the strips into the spiral indentations, drilling a small hole at the end of the section to accept the remaining tails. After shoving the ends into the new hole, he inserted shavings to fill the gaps, trimming the ends that stuck out. As he'd grown to expect, the regeneration cycle started within the next five minutes and the result pleased him. The branch grew over the drilled hole and braided indentations, making its way toward the arrowhead. When it had made its way to the flanges he cut the branch off, cutting off the regeneration. Leaving the detail work for later he tied two knots to different parts along the length of the shaft, creating a sling. He slung the spear over his shoulder before selecting a slightly thicker branch for the next shaft.
Having learned to leave the detail work for last, he immediately inserted the tang of the broadhead into the branch as soon as the tip was off. He waited for the branch to swallow the edge before cutting it off at an arm's length. He trimmed the handle, carving it to match his heritage spear. Flipping it blade-down, he circled the middle, marking it for the next step. He removed a cylindrical chunk 5 inches long using the guideline, adding a deep spiraling cut inside. He took out the aloe gel bottle from his pouch and applied a generous amount into the hole, smearing it along the spiraling grooves. Next, he brought his attention back to the main branch, which was about to hit its regeneration cycle. He trimmed it before placing the spear over it, tying it in place with some rope. Once the branch's growing edge had regenerated enough to meet with the spear shaft, he nicked it to stop the process. He tested the spiral joint by twisting the spear shaft clockwise, countering the spirals inside the spear and as expected the spear rotated, separating from the branch. He then measured another arm’s length from the joint and cut off the branch, letting it fall to the ground. He selected one more branch and cut it off as well, splitting it into several arrows, flattened at the back and sharpened to a point in front.
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