After the events leading down to the fall of man, humanity was forced to live in a world tainted with sin; therefore, they had to work their way through hard times and survive. Two days had gone by after the Star and crossed paths with the Flame, the true part of hardship had started, and both parties weren't sure if the other was truly ready for what was to come.
While the Flame went out to hunt, Star had already started her work, tolling away through the farm. After a perfect handwork with the tools that were provided, she wiped the sweat that dripped from her forehead, her snow-white hair that had been cropped with the claw of a prehistoric beast covered in dirt from the earth she had dug. Gazing across the horizon, she finally felt accomplished.
The quietness pleased her, but she did miss the times that she fought against the monsters that threatened this world; the blood baths were amazing. Though the Flame had given her free will to leave if she wanted to do so, she still chose to stay by him. The outside world was hard, and being in her twentieth year, it would be more difficult if she stayed longer.
Even if this place was cut off from the rest of the world, there was still a possibility that the winged beasts could find her here. Every turn she had made, these prehistoric nightmares always found her, almost like they were drawn to her. It all began with the attack on her village, and now she was being attacked from every corner. She had barely slept. Sometimes she cried, but no one heard her. She had cried to the point that she could no longer, now devoid of half of every emotion.
Now she was at peace, but peace cannot last forever—the sound of screeching echoed from the air. The Star gazed up, the sky as blue as ever, with the fog that caused hallucinations serving as clouds that kept them hidden. The woman stood firm, her grip tight on the handle of the hoe she held. Whatever loomed above was ready to rip her to shreds, and she was ready to tear it down with everything she had.
The air had gone still, the atmosphere interrupted with the sounds of wings flapping against the wind, and in that instant, it had all gone quiet. The Star breathed in, her eyes closed—relying on her senses rather than trying to seek the opponent that loomed. Immediately, the fog above the sky parted, a round space created by a sharp, yellow object moving at high speed.
Star sensed this, her senses quicker than she anticipated, and with her lips parted—a battle cry escaping from the space between, she spun around, striking whatever object flew towards her. Just to her surprise and assumption, it was indeed one of the prehistoric nightmares that inhabited the sky, soaring above its prey, ready to impale it and feed on the entrails.
Star grunted, the force of the blow causing her pain as she had struck with all her might. It was quite easy with her weapon hers, but she'd never thought to ask what had happened to it. Her tall, muscular frame was tensed, her calves clenched, and her body absorbing the sun's gaze, "Dangerous monster, you must die by my hand!" she bellowed, her brows knitted, her anger reaching its peak.
The monster that was forced to the ground had recovered once more. It shook its head, trying its very best to relieve itself of the pain that spread from its broken jaws down to its head. The powerful blow that Star inflicted could've been enough to end the life of this monster, but the woman wasn't precise in her attack, which gave this being another chance to breathe, but with the pain it felt, anger clouded every safety precaution it had to avoid such a homo-sapient being.
Lunging into the air with incredible speed, it threatened to attack again, this time quite cautious of the attack that the woman planned to execute again. Star was also ready, though she wasn't a wise tribal woman, she was into battle, her thoughts being only to survive and that served as something that would aid her in this battle, "Come now, vile creature, I won't miss another chance of ending your life," she threatened, panting heavily as pleasure filled her being, the thirst for battle clouding her thoughts.
Dashing forward with a devastating attack, it was sure to land a hit on the woman, maybe injure her or take her life for good.
Star stood firm, gripping the tool in her palms. She was sure to get a chance to take the life and bathe in the blood if she was precise this time, unlike the last time that she failed in killing this monster. As the creature advanced, the woman raised her weapon, poised to strike again, but as it drew closer, it swerved. She still stayed calm as the monster did this, almost like she was ready for anything and had planned.
As the monster planned another attack, making its way into the air another second time, Star had done the unthinkable—something that no wise warrior was to do. With a triumphant leap, she gripped the monster's tail, her fingers digging into its flesh, which made a squelching sound. The monster screeched in pain, the attack causing it to panic as well.
The two opponents struggled. Star struck it violently, not fearful of the devastating fall she had to endure if this monster died. It took one strike, two strikes, three. Four and then the fifth strike brought it down, the hardened skin penetrated by the attack from the farming tool and just as the laws of gravity could not be defied, Star and the corpse of the prehistoric bird came down crashing and taking half of the farmland.
The Star coughed violently, her head ringing as the fall had taken a toll on her, causing her to pass out. When she had come about, the room she lay in was blurry; she hoped that whatever she witnessed was nothing but a dream, but indeed it was not. It was the hut which she and the Flame shared for two nights, and she now lay on the bed that was promised to her—the mammoth fur.
Raising her head, a horrible pain spreading through her cranium, her gaze landed on a severed head of the monster she had faced, alongside the first one she was saved from, hanging from the top, a rope tied to hold it from falling, but that was not her problem. Where could the Flame be? She asked herself, wondering what was happening and how she ended up in the hut.
Gathering the little strength she could attain, the Star rose from her bed, her movements all drawn to the door that led outside this hut. What was her reason for being tense in such a situation? What was her plan when it came to stepping outside the room? She wouldn't be able to answer questions like these if she didn't show it.
Struggling to move, the pain in her head restricting her from doing so, she pushed forward, dragging herself towards the exit that led out of the hut and before she knew it, she had miraculously stepped outside. Gazing into the lands, she finally caught a glimpse of him—the Flame, and he didn't seem to be happy, being forced to drag the bleeding corpse of the monster she had taken down.
The Wings and head were uprooted from its torso, enabling the Flame to move it faster, though the toxicity of the blood that wasted could kill the crops. The Star rushed, trying her best to reach him, her hand stretched out.
In every tribe, good or evil, any vegetation that was damaged by another, that person was forced to recreate it and work as a slave for the owner if they did not make the proper payments. If they were a wife or husband, the owner would punish the perpetrator.
Falling to the ground, her head crashing onto the ground, her knees aching, Star was ready to face the punishment. The Flame, who had heard the sound, stopped what he was doing, turning to face the source of the sound, "Hey, woman, what are you doing?" he asked, enraged by her acts.
"Please!" she interrupted, "Forgive my sins and punish me as you deem fit"
The Flame jerked back as he heard this, taken aback by this act. Though he was calm but held an inner rage; the farm had not enraged him at all, and for him to prove it to such a woman who possessed no knowledge was going to be difficult.