Ariel knocked on the heavy door. It was made from the ribs of some giant mutated beast, thick and imposing.

"Enter," a voice called out. It was Hillard, the chieftain. He sounded tired, but the authority in his tone was unmistakable.

Ariel pushed the door open. She and Elvin stepped inside.

Hillard sat behind a massive desk made of bone. He was staring at a pile of withered, blackened wheat stalks, his brow furrowed in frustration. He looked up. When he saw Ariel, and then Elvin standing behind her, his face hardened. His eyes narrowed into slits.

Ariel stepped forward. She placed the wooden bowl of fish ball soup onto the bone desk. The bowl was chipped, the soup slightly murky, but the smell...

Hillard's nose twitched. The rich, savory scent cut through the stale air of the room.

He glared at the white balls floating in the broth. "What is this?" he demanded. "Some kind of trick?"

"It's food," Ariel said calmly. "Made from the bony, tasteless mutated fish in the river. The ones nobody wants to eat."

Hillard grunted. He picked up a carved bone spoon. He scooped up a single ball, eyeing it suspiciously, and put it in his mouth.

He chewed once. Twice.

He slammed his hands on the desk and stood up so fast his chair shot backward, scraping against the stone floor with a screech. His eyes were wide with shock.

Ariel didn't give him a second to recover.

"I want to register a permanent partnership with him," she said, pointing to Elvin.

Hillard's excitement faded, replaced by a grim, paternalistic concern. He looked from the miraculous soup to Ariel, then to the pale man behind her. His face darkened into stern disapproval. He pointed a thick finger at Elvin's pale, sweaty face.

"Absolutely not," Hillard barked. "He's poisoned. He's a dead man walking. He'll drag you down. He can't hunt. He can't protect you. He's useless."

Elvin stood silently. His gaze dropped to the floor, his expression unreadable.

Ariel reached out. She grabbed Elvin's cold, limp hand. She squeezed it tight.

"I don't need a hunter," Ariel said, her voice steady and firm. "I need someone smart. Someone who listens. Someone who won't raise a hand to me."

She looked Hillard dead in the eye. "I'm weak. I need a partner who will obey me. Completely."

Hillard stared at her. He looked at the stubborn set of her jaw, then down at the bowl of soup that still smelled like a dream. He let out a heavy sigh, the fight draining out of him.

He yanked open a drawer. He pulled out a small, rectangular metal tag. He tossed it across the desk. It clattered in front of Elvin.

"Take it. Don't come crying to me when he drops dead."

Elvin picked up the tag. It was the official badge of a camp member.

Ariel didn't waste a second. "I have another request."

Hillard raised an eyebrow.

"I want that piece of wasteland behind our shelter," she said, pointing in the general direction. "The one nobody uses."

Hillard waved a hand dismissively. He thought she just wanted to plant a few weeds. "Fine. Take it." He grabbed a charcoal stick and circled the area on the map.

They walked out into the sunlight. Ariel's face was lit with a fierce, hungry ambition.

She dragged Elvin back to their shelter at a brisk pace. Once there, she dropped to her knees in the dirt outside the door. She picked up a stick and drew a massive square in the dust.

She pointed to the lines. "This," she told Elvin, "is going to be our new home. An underground fortress. Built like the courtyards of the old world."

She explained the concept. How the earth would insulate them from the freezing winds. How the deep walls would keep out the mutated beasts. How it would be safe. Warm. Permanent.

Elvin listened. He didn't laugh. He didn't call her crazy. His eyes actually lit up with a strange, intense focus.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked quietly.

Ariel felt a rush of gratitude. She pointed toward the scrap heap at the edge of the camp.

"Go find old vines. Strong wood. Anything we can use."

Elvin turned and walked away. His steps were slow, but there was a solid, unyielding determination in his posture.

Ariel watched him go. Then she crouched down, her fingers tracing the lines in the dirt, calculating the volume of earth they needed to move, the tools they needed to make, and the time they had left before the cold season hit.

Elvin stood before the mountain of junk. It was a towering pile of broken wood, rusted metal, and dead vines at the very edge of the camp.

He looked left. He looked right. The nearest patrol was far away, their backs turned.

He took a deep breath. The sickly, weak look vanished from his face. His eyes turned sharp, as cold and hard as steel.

He reached out with one hand. His fingers wrapped around a thick, hardwood beam buried deep under a ton of garbage. He gave it a sharp pull.

The entire pile shuddered. A cascade of debris fell away as he ripped the beam free. He tossed it aside like it weighed nothing. He selected three more sturdy support beams and a massive bundle of tough vines.

He tied them together with efficient, brutal knots. He hoisted the entire bundle onto one shoulder. It weighed hundreds of pounds.

He started walking back. As the shelter came into view, he shifted his posture. He bent his knees. He let his shoulders hunch. He forced his breathing to become loud, ragged, and desperate.

Ariel heard the heavy footsteps. She looked up and saw Elvin staggering under the load, looking like he was about to collapse. She rushed over.

"Put it down! You'll hurt yourself!" she cried, helping him shrug the bundle off his shoulder.

She grabbed a clean leaf, folded it into a cup, and filled it with water from the pot. She handed it to him.

Elvin took it. He drank it in one gulp. A faint, satisfied smile touched his lips, though he kept his eyes cast down, looking exhausted.

"First things first," Ariel said, pointing at the pile of materials. "We need tools."

She picked up a sharp stone flake she had been working on. She handed it to Elvin.

"Whittle this handle down. Make it smooth."

Elvin took the stone. His fingers wrapped around it naturally. Without thinking, his wrist flicked. The stone spun in a flashy, perfect arc-a move only a master fighter would use.

His heart skipped a beat. That was a mistake.

He instantly let out a fake yelp, loosening his grip. The stone clattered to the ground.

"Sorry," he mumbled, playing the weakling, his face contorting in feigned pain. "My hand slipped."

Ariel paused, her eyes narrowing slightly. For a split second, the move had seemed impossibly fluid, dangerously precise. But his immediate clumsiness and the pained expression on his pale face quickly erased the thought. It must have been a fluke. She let out a breath and offered a mild laugh. "Be careful next time."

Elvin picked up the stone again. This time, he forced his movements to be clumsy, slow, and shaky. But even with the act, his cuts were precise, his efficiency terrifying.

Ariel sat beside him, grinding a piece of mutated beast bone against a rough rock, shaping it into a knife.

The sun climbed higher. The heat of the day set in. Ariel wiped the sweat from her forehead. Her stomach let out a loud, embarrassing rumble.

She stood up. "I'm going to check the second fish basket. Keep working."

Elvin put down the wood. "I'm coming with you." His tone was firm. "The riverbank isn't safe."

They walked to the river together. Ariel hauled up the basket. This time, it wasn't just fish. Dozens of giant mutated river crabs clicked and snapped inside the trap.

Their shells were black and hard as iron. Their claws were massive. In this camp, they were considered garbage. Too hard to crack, too little meat, too dangerous to handle.

Ariel's eyes sparkled. She looked at them like they were gold coins. She carefully dumped the furious crabs into a woven basket.

Back at the shelter, Ariel showed Elvin what to do.

"Grab them from the back. Twist the head off. Pull this black line out." She demonstrated, her movements quick and practiced.

Elvin copied her. His long, pale fingers moved like surgical instruments. He didn't fumble. He didn't hesitate. He stripped the shell away, leaving the meat perfectly intact.

Ariel stared at him. "You're a natural," she said, genuinely impressed.

Elvin lowered his head, hiding the flush of pleasure that crept up his neck.

Ariel chopped the crab and shrimp meat, mixing it with wild herbs. She dumped it all into the iron pot to make a rich seafood stew.

As the steam rose, carrying the mouth-watering smell, they sat side by side on the stone floor. For a moment, the harshness of the wasteland seemed very far away.

The iron pot bubbled. Thick, creamy foam rose to the surface, releasing a smell so rich and savory it made Ariel's head spin.

She ladled a huge bowl of the stew and handed it to Elvin.

He took it with both hands. As he did, his fingertips brushed against hers. Her skin was warm from the fire.

Elvin flinched. His fingers curled inward, pulling back slightly. He dropped his gaze, hiding the sudden, rapid thumping of his heart.

He took a sip of the hot broth. The intense, sweet flavor flooded his mouth. It pushed away the constant chill that lived in his bones. He felt a gentle warmth spread down his throat, easing the burning ache of the poison in his chest.

He looked up. He watched Ariel. She was clutching her own bowl, slurping the soup happily, her cheeks flushed.

Elvin set his bowl down on his lap. His hand slipped inside his shirt. His fingers closed around the cool, smooth surface of a diamond-shaped crystal.

It was the "Miracle" pendant. The only thing his mother had left him. A relic of the old world. It was his most precious possession. It represented a promise he had never thought he'd make.

He took a breath. He pulled the pendant out. The crystal caught the dim light, glowing with a faint, eerie blue hue. He held it out toward Ariel.

He opened his mouth, ready to speak the vow he had prepared.

Ariel slammed a heavy rock down onto a giant mutated crab claw. The shell shattered. A piece of white, tender meat popped out.

"Oh, yes!" Ariel cheered, completely oblivious to the glowing object in Elvin's hand. She grabbed the meat and shoved it into her mouth. "So good!" she mumbled, chewing happily.

His hand hung in the air. He froze. A beat of silence passed. A flicker of deep frustration crossed his mind, the sacred words dying on his lips. He had prepared himself for this moment. But then he looked at her, her dirty face lit with pure, unadulterated joy over a simple piece of crab meat, and the frustration melted into a deep, helpless affection. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He slowly pulled his hand back. He tucked the pendant safely back inside his shirt, close to his skin. This wasn't the right time. The vow deserved her full attention. He decided to wait. He would give it to her when the underground fortress was finished.

Ariel finished the claw. She licked her fingers, savoring every drop of flavor. She looked up and caught Elvin staring at her, a soft look in his eyes.

She blinked, then smiled. She picked up the last piece of fish from her bowl and dropped it into his.

"Eat. You need the strength."

Elvin didn't refuse. He ate the piece of fish, tasting something far sweeter than seafood.

When the meal was over, Ariel pointed at the pile of crab shells and shrimp husks.

"Don't throw those away," she said. "They're treasure."

She made Elvin find two flat, heavy stones. He placed the shells between them and pressed. His grip was immense. The hard shells crumbled into a fine, white powder in seconds.

Ariel scooped the powder into a broken wooden bucket. "Fertilizer," she explained. "The best kind."

She walked to the wasteland behind the shelter. She scooped up a handful of dirt. She rubbed it between her fingers, feeling the texture, analyzing the composition.

She frowned. The soil was hard. Compacted. Dead. It desperately needed help.

She turned and grabbed the stone hoe she had made earlier. She tested its weight in her hand.

She took a deep breath. She raised the hoe high above her head. She swung it down with all her might.

THUD.

The heavy impact echoed across the empty land. The construction of the underground fortress-and the farm that would feed them-had officially begun.