Contest: The Settlers

Host: CraZCanuck

The chirping of the birds ring throughout my ears, filling my skull with a resounding buzz. The sun scalds my skin as I lift my head off the moistened earth. A heavy fog clings to my mind, blurring the images that dash madly behind my eyelids. Nothing was recognizable from the jumble of memories and as soon as the inhibiting trance begins to wane, they scatter like a million little ants under a big boot.

Curling my fingers into the ground, I blink slowly as my vision clears. I climb to my feet, swaying slightly as a violent ringing echoes throughout my skull. Hot air rushes down my lungs and sweat slithers uncomfortably down my neck. I shake my head out, clearing the sleepiness from my mind and forcing my eyes to focus on my surroundings.

Huge, mangled trees rise upward in a dazzling array of bright green leaves and roots. Tall grass tickles my legs, having gotten caught under my long skirt. The yellow beams of sunlight shine unforgivingly down on the land, depriving it of water and killing it slowly. Several bodies scatter the ground, moaning and gasping as they begin to wake.

"Hey," A soft voice says close to my shoulder. I jump, gasping loudly as gentle fingers grasp ahold of my upper arm. Taking two steps away, I turn my head and meet the brilliant golden eyes of a handsome boy with short black hair and sharp features. "are you okay?" He asks, hands out before him in caution. I frown, rubbing my fingers over my face and through the long hair cascading down my back.

"I think so, yes. Where are we exactly?" I wonder, glancing out over the land. The boy drops his hands, crossing his arms over his chest as he does so.

"I've no clue, I'm Thatch." The boy mutters, his smile exposing white teeth. He frowns and wrinkles his nose. "Well, technically it's Thaddeus." Thatch admits, the beginnings of a frown creasing his face. I nod, forcing a smile as I look out over the field of teenagers as they start to pick themselves up off the ground.

"What are we to do here?" I ramble, folding my arms over my chest as my mind begins to race, several scenarios dancing within my mind's eye. Thatch shrugs and steps closer, his illuminated gaze latched on something in the distance.

"No idea, but I suppose we should start by surviving. We'll need to build a fortress and start making weapons." Thatch decides, I scoff and set my unyielding gaze on him.

"Fortresses and weapons? You speak as if we are going to war." I counter as several teenagers begin to wander their way toward us. Thatch frowns and shakes his head, uncrossing his arms.

"No, but if the situation were to arise we would be able to defend ourselves." He reasons, his tone even.

"We do not need weapons to survive. We need food, water, and a system to live by. A government." I advise, pausing as several pairs of eyes zero in on Thatch and I. "We should start scouting for water." Thaddeus snorts and rolls his eyes.

"I think she's right." A shorter, smaller boy voices from the surrounding crowd. I nod, gesturing to the kid with my hand.

"How are we to keep what is ours then if we have no way to defend ourselves?" Thatch retorts, his voice harsh.

"We will, but it is not our top priority. Thatch, can you not see the need here?" I question, sweeping my hand out toward a group of younger kids whose eyes are dull and tired. Their faces were red and slicked with sweat from the sun blazing down on us. Thatch sighs and nods, surrendering his will to mine.

"I see it." He responds, straightening up as a fierce streak of determination surges through him. "What would you have me do then?" He questions, his eyes blazing intently. I sputter, floundering anxiously for words under his intimidating golden gaze.

"Why do you look to me for direction?" I counter, attempting to toss the limelight from myself. Thatch raises an amused eyebrow and smiles.

"Because you are the only one here who has a clue of what to do." He explains, one side of his mouth lifting. The others around us nod, too weary to contradict him and a tight knot of anxiety blossoms in my stomach.

"Thatch -"

"I will not offer my assistance to anyone but you, Matriarch." He interrupts, silencing my complaints. I huff, clenching my jaw and running my fingers through my silver curls.

"If I must." I mumble, curling my hair around my fingers fretfully. Thatch smiles, his face lighting up with enjoyment.

"Then what would you have me do?" My mind races as several ideas begin to flutter through my mind.

"Find a water source, take someone with you so you don't get lost." Thatch nods and turn away but only takes one step before glancing back.

"Matriarch," He addresses, our eyes locking. "I fear we still do not know your name." Thatch reminds, I wring my hands out before me and attempt to locate the floating name somewhere within my frazzled mind.

"Hazel." I voice, trying out the foreign word that continues to resonate throughout my skull. "Yes, that's it. Hazel Mercer." Thatch lets out a shrill yelp of glee and grins widely.

"But what shall we be called?" Asks a timid, shrill voice. I turn in search of the source only to find a small, frail girl hiding behind the body of a slightly larger boy. She looked maybe thirteen, perhaps even twelve and in her arms she grasped a tattered old doll covered in dirt. I bend down, resting my knees in the grass and gesture her forward.

"What's your name?" I wonder, grasping the girl's clammy hand.

"Nicolette." She mutters, hiding her face within the doll's ratty hair.

"And your doll?"

"Quinn." She says, sparing me a fleeting glance before holding the damaged item out to me. I smile, wrapping my fingers around the rough material of the child's doll. Nicolette slips her hand out of mine and steps back into the waiting embrace of the boy, her chocolate shaded eyes staring up at me with childish wonder. Taking a deep calming breath, I lift my voice above the whispered chattering and force confidence into my words.

"We will be called Quinovia."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

**The following is written in a series of journal entries in Hazel's POV**

Day Three

A couple days have passed since our waking and I am beginning to question whether or not Thatch's statement still rings true. I fear I have no clue what I am doing either. We are failing; the sun burns our skin, thirst threatens the young, and hunger feeds on the strong. We do our best to find suitable food, but without any type of weapon, the wild animals that surround us are quite hard to kill. Yet, despite my faults, the people here rely on me and I pray dearly that their trust is not misplaced.

We have made little progress as far as shelter and necessities go. Though I am pleased to have this berry ink and quill to record our slow, yet steady, progress. I feel as if the fate of Quinovia will someday help shape the future; for better or worse I know not.

It was rather late in the day when Thatch and Deirdre, a spritely young woman, managed to locate a flowing river several miles into the forest. It were as if someone had lit a match beneath a pile of coals, for this discovery sent a renewed wave of determination throughout the camp. Immediately, preparations were made for an aqueduct and greenhouse to be built.

- Hazel, the Matriarch

Day Eight

Our greenhouse is coming along quite nicely, two boys named Luca and Gabriel seem to have a knack for building. Their work is precise and takes time, but the things they make are strong and sturdy. They've set an outer rim for the greenhouse but are having trouble building up without any way to connect the logs and keep them steady.

I've come to the sour conclusion that Thatch was right, and he makes a point of rubbing it in my face whenever the opportunity presents itself. We are in need of weapons, both to protect ourselves and to build our new homes. Yet we are unable to find a material able to meet our needs.

Calista, a girl only slightly younger than myself, has been hard at work on the aqueduct. She and Deirdre spend their days hollowing out wooden logs in the hopes of creating a pipeline to bring the water from the river. Meanwhile, several of the younger girls make daily trips to and from the river with hollowed out wooden buckets to fill with the fresh water.

- Hazel, the Matriarch

Day Ten

We have discovered that Nicolette has a gift, one of Alchemy, which she wields quite well. She has created many a thing, from a rough yarn to a soft metal. The boy she has adopted as her brother, Nathaniel, is gifted as well. He is able to hit faraway objects with inexplicable precision. He has taken up carving, shaving down the points of sticks to create arrows, and even crafted a bow.

Thatch says that Nathaniel would be an effective soldier and I nearly smacked his head clean off his shoulders. How dare he attempt to turn a child into a fighter? Though, despite his flaws, Thatch has become a friend and confidante. One I am glad to have beside me as I struggle to lead a camp of uneducated teenagers. But there are moments where I cannot seem to recognize him.

As for the greenhouse, we have decided to use sap from the trees to seal the logs together. It works quite nicely, our only issue is the amount of time it takes to get the sap out of the trees. A boy called Matthew has been working on a method of drilling holes in the tree bark to get the sap out faster, but he has a difficult time finding a material strong enough to drill without breaking.

- Hazel, the Matriarch

Day Fifteen

Nicolette has done it! She has created a metal strong enough to use for weapons and tools! I know not what the child did to make such a creation, but I am simply overjoyed with her progress. The entire camp is excited. Thatch has set to work forming the metal into useable shapes, though we have discovered that this must be done while it's hot. And I fear that he will burn himself one of these days. He is so very careless.  

Deirdre and Calista have finished hollowing out the tree logs for the aqueduct. They have begun lining the insides with Nicolette's soft metal in the hopes that the water will not taste so much like wood. But perhaps now it will taste like metal! I highly doubt either one stopped to consider such a thing. They've begun looking for ways to connect the logs together.

- Hazel, the Matriarch

Day Twenty-One

Nathaniel has found others with his gift and they have begun crafting arrows and bows together. We've adopted the name Archers for the group of them and they seem to be very pleased with it. I sometimes find myself intrigued by them; the way they sit around a campfire together and shave sticks with sharp rocks. Their simplicity makes me smile.

Nathaniel and his friends have also begun hunting small animals and cooking them over the fire at night. They've taken up the roles of camp cook the last several nights and I have a strong feeling that they intend to continue. The lot of them seem to be good at tracking and scouting in the forest as well. Somehow they have an instinctual ability to wander far without getting lost.

Luca and Gabriel have begun chopping divots into the tree logs with Thatch's freshly made "axe" tool made with a metal tip and a wooden handle. He calls it such simply because he enjoys the sound of the word. The two boys are energized over their new toy and have pulled the attention of several others within the camp. The greenhouse has grown two feet off the ground since last I wrote!

Deirdre has acquired the help of a serious young man with the name Brigan, they've set to work constructing the aqueduct. Thatch has formed Nicolette's metal into long straight objects with a sharp tip and a flat head, he calls them "nails" for some inexplicable reason. These new contraptions are extremely helpful in building the greenhouse and aqueduct.

- Hazel, the Matriarch

Day  Twenty-Three

Thatch, the imbecile, has taken on the job of building a wire fence spanning the entire clearing! He uses Nicolette's wire and has enlisted the help of Marcus who is good with creating things. The two have cut wooden stumps and strung wire around each post. They then plant each post around the rim of the clearing in a systematic order.

Thatch's impatience and desire to conquer any feat that rises is unnerving. What are we to do if war comes and he completely loses his head in the midst of it? I rely on him, I can only hope he recognizes his fault before it is too late to rectify.

- Hazel, the Matriarch

Day Twenty-Six

Luca and Gabriel have stopped their work on the greenhouse once again, they've decided that the four foot wall of logs is tall enough. Next, they would like to place a soft material over the top to allow air, sunlight, and oxygen into the plants without overpowering them. Nicolette has offered them her newest creation, a straw like material that can be weaved together. With the help of Calista they plan to weave it over the top of the greenhouse.

Two individuals by the names of Rowan and Kira, have started planting various types of fruits within the greenhouse. Though they are not gifted in the art of farming and fail to always remember to water each seedling. Nathaniel still cooks meat each night but I can tell everyone is beginning to tire of rabbits and squirrels.

We still sleep on the ground each night, relishing in the feel of the dirt and watching the stars twinkle above us. But the skies have darkened over the last few nights and the air has been suffocatingly wet. The younger ones shiver from the dew coated ground. Thatch has proposed the idea of building homes able to fit each member of the mixed families that have formed within the past month. I think he has a good idea going, but our work with the greenhouse and aqueduct must finish first. We've resorted to temporary teepees using Nicolette's straw material, they do an adequate job at keeping the chill away at night.

- Hazel, the Matriarch

Day Thirty

The greenhouse is complete! Our new struggle is remembering to water each seedling every day and night. Deirdre and Brigan have finished their work on the aqueduct and I am pleased to record that it works perfectly well! We have created a hollow trunk at the end of the aqueduct for the water to pool in. They've also strung up a separate line heading directly into the greenhouse!

Thatch and Marcus are halfway done with their wire fence, they've managed to find seven others willing to help and work has moved quite efficiently. Nicolette has found a few others with her strange gift, namely Matthew and a girl much older than her called Crystal, the three seem to get along exceptionally well.

Our next feat will be building homes for every makeshift family that has formed. We will begin working on these immediately, perhaps offering one day of rest in celebration for all of our good work achieved thus far.

- Hazel, the Matriarch