Enzo's thoughts diverged sharply from Sovita's.
To him, the Fangtusk Boar King had merely been a beast. Dangerous, yes—but nothing more than a creature of muscle and instinct. Tia, by contrast, was someone real. A person. His first ally in this strange new world.
Sovita didn't see it that way. But Enzo didn't blame him. The elder priest had been shaped by decades of thinking not as an individual, but as a guardian of many. Of course he would weigh one life against the survival of the tribe.
Still, as Sovita watched Tia's unconscious form on the ceremonial stone, he couldn't help but murmur, "That girl… she was born under a lucky star."
Just then, shouts rang out across the camp.
"Boars! So many tusked boars!"
"Look at the size of that one—it's bigger than my whole cave!"
"But it'll all go bad soon if we can't preserve it…"
Excitement surged among the tribespeople as they rushed to help. The slain beasts were laid out, their thick hides stripped, their organs separated. Smoke and flame followed quickly as fires were kindled for roasting.
But this time, Sovita stepped forward and raised a hand.
"Stop," he said. "Bring the Boar King to the ceremonial square."
Rhode handed Enzo the black pack, and Enzo immediately set to work. Using his knife, he opened the creature's belly and carefully extracted a pale, gelatinous lump—no larger than two fists. The monster's essence.
He placed it in Tia's hands.
Almost instantly, her leaf-shaped totem mark absorbed it.
Sovita stepped forward and addressed the tribe, his voice carrying. "A new warrior is born today! Tia will rise again—and with her, the Crimson Star Tribe grows stronger!"
Cheering erupted all around.
But not everyone joined in right away.
Rhode and Anse exchanged looks. They remembered the silver light that had erupted from the Boar King just before its death… and now, they saw that same glow shimmering faintly across Tia's skin.
Something was different.
Something beyond the normal rites of a warrior's awakening.
Moments later, Tia stirred.
Her eyes opened—and the first thing she saw was Enzo. "You're okay!" she cried, springing up and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Her legs followed, clinging to him like a playful cub.
It wasn't until Sovita cleared his throat that she noticed the many eyes watching them from across the ceremonial square.
She dropped from Enzo's embrace immediately, face redder than a setting sun.
"Didn't know you could be shy," Enzo teased.
Tia tilted her head, puzzled. "What's shy?"
Enzo paused. "Ah… never mind."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the air filled with the smells of roasted meat, earth, and pine smoke. The Crimson Star Tribe lit a great fire at the center of the square. Laughter echoed between the cliffs. It was a feast—their reward, and a symbol of new strength.
Enzo didn't have to lift a finger. Not that he could help much with the food—after his first bite, he had to fight not to gag. The flavor was strange, gamey and pungent, with an earthy bitterness like raw mushrooms and rain-soaked bark.
Tia handed him a flask of water, watching him carefully.
He forced a smile and took a swig.
He needed salt. And herbs. Maybe garlic.
Something had to change if he was going to survive the tribe's menu.
Luckily, the backpack hadn't just contained rope and a knife—it held several wild tubers, including sweet potatoes and yams. Cultivated crops could feed a village. With time, Enzo realized, they could begin the shift from hunting to farming.
A true leap forward—from survival to civilization.
Later, Tia returned carrying an armful of wild fruits, wrapped in a hide.
"They're sweet and tart," she said, offering one. "I found them in the northern hills. But a pack of black-tailed monkeys guards the big tree. They're mean."
Enzo tried one. It was tangy, juicy—perfect.
When he finished, she peeled another and brought it to his mouth.
"You don't have to—"
"You helped me," she interrupted, voice calm. "This is how I say thank you."
He sighed but accepted the gesture.
A warm silence followed.
He looked at her—really looked.
Tia wasn't just alive. She had returned stronger. Inside her, the totem fire had taken root. She wasn't an ordinary warrior anymore.
She was something more.
A totem warrior.
At Sovita's request, they kept that truth quiet. The tribe wasn't ready. Such power could invite envy, fear… or worse, war.
The tribal warriors would suspect. Sovita would handle them. But for now, it was Enzo's secret—and Tia's.
And it only deepened her loyalty to him.
That night, Enzo slipped away from the noise of the feast, climbing a grassy hill beside the camp. Tia followed without asking, and the two lay side by side, watching the stars dance in the dark sky.
"Tia," Enzo said after a while.
She turned, her eyes glowing in the moonlight.
He hesitated. Then said softly, "Next time we're in danger... don't throw yourself in front of me like that."
Her answer came without pause. "You're the priest. You carry the tribe's future. I have to protect you."
"But—"
"You said so yourself. If you die, the whole tribe might die with you."
Her words echoed his own back to him—and left him without a reply.
She drifted off soon after, the cool grass beneath them and the sky wide above.
Enzo remained awake.
He wasn't used to sleeping early. Back in his old life, he'd stayed up late—studying, scrolling, watching the world through a glowing screen.
Here, there was only silence, stars… and her.
He glanced at Tia again. Her lips were slightly parted, her breathing slow and soft. She looked impossibly gentle in sleep, completely unlike the fierce girl who'd wrestled a wild boar and roared in front of a tribe.
His heart skipped.
He leaned closer—drawn in by something ancient and deeply human.
And just before he could kiss her, her eyes fluttered open.
"I want to give you a child," she whispered.
Enzo blinked.
She said it with the same simplicity as someone offering to share food.
"Tia…"
She moved against him, curling close. Her lips met his, and her arms wrapped around him again, but this time with a deliberate tenderness.
Enzo responded without words.
What happened next wasn't wild or frenzied—it was quiet, mutual, and deeply intimate.
On a starlit hill, beneath a sky untouched by artificial light, the two of them found something ancient, something real—connection, devotion, survival, and the spark of something like love.