Tied to a rope, tucked away on the edge of the island, a conglomeration of wood rocked on the sea. A man rushed across the deck holding some rope.
He wrapped the rope around poles and joints, doubled knotted it and tugged it tight. He approached the other end of the deck, grabbed a different rope, and released it.
A sail rained down above the deck, constructed from intertwined leaves and sewn together more intricately by long strands of weeds.
The ship wasn't massive, it had neither the capacity for cargo nor the space to carry a large group of people. About the size of a small fishing boat, but it was more than enough for its three passengers.
Timi patiently watched the sails, or more accurately, he watched the wind. It blew into the sails, stretching them to their limit, but they didn't break.
He slightly shifted his gaze, looking past the sails at the gray sky. Clouds were approaching the island, heavy and dark. The worst part of it all, they needed to sail directly towards the clouds.
Timi jumped off the hull onto the beach below. He landed beside a boy who was sprawled out on the sand, a mountain of bark and grass beside him.
"I think that's about as done as it'll get." Timi commented, turning around and admiring the wooden ship.
"Thank the Gods." Roman heaved a sigh of relief.
For two weeks they lived, breathed, and slept for that boat. Designing it went relatively smoothly as the group decided to go with Timi's second option.
Meanwhile, Roman never quit processing the materials. From the moment he got up in the morning to the second the sky darkened, he synthesized the grass and the wood.
His essence was constantly drained. In an effort to keep up with Timi and Emma, Roman utilized his Gift down to nothing each time leaving him feeling nauseous and exhausted.
Roman held his arm up and Timi pulled him up. The two slowly made their way back to the cabin to spend one last night here, at least that was the plan.
Timi's original estimation of one week severely clouded their ability to take care of themselves. Working from day to night, Roman collapsed six days in and was out of commission for another two.
Not to mention the fact that Timi forgot he didn't have any of his usual tools. Every other day he needed to aimlessly roam the island in search of a new rock he could use as a hammer since they all managed to shatter after a while.
Emma actually had the easiest job between them, although it was only easy due to her Gift. For the first few days Emma rampaged across the island, cutting trees down and slicing through fields of grass.
The grass was the easiest. All she did was pick it up and carry it over to where they were building the boat. The trees, on the other hand, were a different story.
Some of them she could cut in halves or thirds so she could carry them, but the vast majority of the planks used for the ship were full length trees. So for days Emma had to fuel her body with essence, reinforcing her muscles and stamina until she was able to carry the tree across her shoulders.
Thankfully, once she was able to get the tree up and in a position to be thrown, all she had to do was push it forward a little and then crank up its velocity. Like a gust of wind swept the trees off her shoulders, they rocketed forward and rolled across the beach.
In less than a week, Emma was able to collect enough wood and grass for the two boys. Then she was able to nurture Roman back to health, fetching him clean water and rebuilding the fire whenever it went out.
Once Roman was back on his feet, Emma returned to hunting at night. She offered to help build the boat, but Timi refused her offer and even though she could tie the grass together or split the wood, Roman's Gift did it perfectly each and every time.
Timi pulled open the door to the cabin, finding Emma passed out on the couch of leaves and vines. Her hair was a mess, knotted in multiple places, leaves and sticks adorned her head like a Christmas tree.
And that was just her hair, her clothes were even worse. Torn and ripped in multiple places, stained with dried blood and sweat, her skin was so greasy it reflected the light of the fire next to her.
"Do you wanna wake her up?" Timi asked Roman.
"Do we really have to?" Roman questioned.
"We should talk about the incoming storm—" Timi reasoned, "and she shouldn't be up all night just before we depart anyway."
Roman exhaled a heavy breath, "Fine."
Roman put his hand on Emma's shoulder and gently shook her, "Emma," he whispered.
Emma's eye shot open. She grabbed Roman's arm and pulled him into a hold, then twisted his forearm to lock his movements.
"Okay okay okay!" Roman yelped.
Emma quickly regained her senses and let go of Roman. After a large stretch and a drawn out yawn she expectantly cast her gaze over to Timi.
"The boat's done." He said.
"That's great—" Emma stood up and stretched her arms towards the sky, "so we can leave tomorrow, yeah?"
"About that—" Timi paused, "a storm's rolling in. A big one at that."
"Can we sail around it?"
"The wind's blowing against us, the storm is coming directly from Fallen Sky. We have to wait it out or sail through it."
"We can sail into the wind?" Roman asked.
"You have to do a zig-zag pattern, but yeah." Timi answered.
"Do you think it's dangerous?" Emma asked.
"I think it's going to be dangerous no matter what, but the storm's not going to make it any easier. It's an unnecessary risk."
"How long until the storm passes?"
"There's no way to tell."
"We don't even know how far Fallen Sky is, the sooner we leave the better." Emma concluded.
"I agree, but depending on the severity of the storm we might not make it at all."
"We'll give it one day. See how severe the storm is, if the waters look dangerous we'll wait it out, but if it looks calm the day after tomorrow, I say we set sail. Is that fine with you guys?" Emma asked.
"Works for me," Roman agreed.
"No objections," Timi stated.
"Good. I can't wait to get the hell off this island!"