As I watched Kain stand forlornly in front of the Portal’s transparent screen, a mixture of my practical nature and the poignant feelings of loss from the night's tragic events battled within me. The way he looked, so utterly helpless, tugged at my heart. Beatrix had disappeared into the Portal before Kain could even reach her, leaving him stranded and bewildered.

I stepped up beside Kain, joining him in his silent vigil at the screen. The disappointment etched on his face was clear as he stared into the emptiness where Beatrix had been moments before.

“Kain, your leg is bleeding,” I pointed out, my tone laced with concern. Watching the blood seep through the hastily applied bandages, my worry for him deepened.

Kain's glance at his leg was brief but loaded with resignation. He limped over to the base of the sandy hill and collapsed onto the ground with a hefty grunt. His exhaustion and pain were evident in every movement.

I hurried to his side, trying to help him to his feet. “Come on, Kain. We should head back to camp,” I urged, hoping to persuade him to seek proper medical attention.

However, Kain was resolute in his refusal, shaking his head and stubbornly remaining where he was. It was clear that he wasn’t going to be moved easily.

Sighing in resignation, I knew I had to take action. “Fine, but I’m going to bring Glenda and some supplies back to look after that wound,” I declared, determined to ensure he received the care he needed.

Reluctantly leaving Kain at the base of the hill, I cast one last look over my shoulder at him before making my way back to camp. My footsteps felt heavy with the burden of the day's events, which had really only just begun.

As I re-entered the camp, a noticeable hush had settled over the area, an unusual quietude that seemed to hang in the air like a thick fog. The camp felt strangely subdued, almost as if the morning’s events had cast a shadow over everyone and everything.

The tents stood like silent sentinels, their canvas walls gently fluttering in the soft breeze. The campfire, usually the heart of our community, was now just a smouldering pile of ashes, with a few weak flames licking the charred wood.

After a quick scan of the area, it was evident that Glenda was nowhere to be seen. None of the tents revealed her presence, and she wasn’t anywhere in the small area that was the campsite.

Turning my attention away from the search, I decided to seek out Paul, who was remarkably easy to spot. Paul was standing near the campfire, his tall figure easily distinguishable against the backdrop of the surrounding barren sands. His posture was one of deep thought, his gaze fixed on the horizon, as if searching for answers in the vast expanse of Clivilius.

As I approached him, the shifting of the dry dust under my feet seemed to break the quiet spell around the camp. Paul turned at the sound, his expression changing from contemplation to attentiveness as he noticed my approach.

“Kain’s determined to wait at the Portal for Beatrix or Luke to return,” I informed him, the concern evident in my voice.

Paul’s grunt was soft, almost resigned. “Don’t expect them any time soon,” he muttered, his gaze drifting away. The lack of his usual optimism, which I often found overly idealistic, was now replaced by a sombreness that was unsettling.

I frowned, the shift in Paul’s demeanour making me uneasy. His normally hopeful outlook, although sometimes unrealistic, was a source of comfort in the chaos of Clivilius. To see him so downcast was disconcerting.

“Kain’s leg has started to bleed again. He can’t go far,” I explained, hoping to draw Paul's focus back to the immediate issues at hand.

Paul’s reaction deepened my concern. His shoulders slumped, a physical manifestation of his burdened state. “We don’t have a doctor anymore,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a sense of defeat.

His words sent a wave of panic through me. “What!?” I exclaimed, the possibility of another calamity befalling us so soon was almost too much to comprehend. My mind raced with worry. Had something happened to Glenda while I was at the Portal?

Paul’s explanation, though, brought more confusion than relief. “Glenda’s gone with Jamie and Charity,” he said, revealing a piece of the puzzle I hadn’t anticipated. “Something about being determined to find her father.”

I stared at Paul, my skepticism clear. Glenda, with her scientific mind and pragmatic approach, succumbing to an emotional quest seemed out of character, almost implausible. The idea that she believed her father was alive and in Clivilius was a stretch, even for this strange world.

Paul’s next words mirrored my thoughts. “I don’t really understand any of it either,” he said bluntly, his frustration apparent.

As I processed this new information, a mix of confusion and concern swirled within me. Glenda's departure, Kain's stubbornness at the Portal, and now Paul's uncharacteristic pessimism – everything seemed to be unraveling at an alarming rate.

Chris's sudden entry into the conversation momentarily startled me, jolting me out of the troubling thoughts that Paul's revelation had stirred. "The coriander plants are still looking healthy," he chimed in, his tone light and matter-of-fact. "I’ve just been checking on them," he added.

Despite the myriad of concerns and the growing sense of unease in the camp, Chris’s mention of the coriander plants was oddly comforting. It was a small piece of normalcy, a reminder of the simpler aspects of our life here in Clivilius.

A half-smile flickered on Paul’s lips at Chris’s words. It was a brief moment, but it gave me a glimmer of hope that perhaps Paul's usual optimism hadn't completely vanished.

Chris, ever eager on our agricultural experiments, turned his attention to me. “I’m keen for Karen and me to do some more soil exploration,” he said, his eyes seeking my approval.

Before I could respond, Paul interjected. “I’m not sure that I see that as a priority,” he stated firmly, his tone indicating that he had other concerns in mind. “We need better protection and storage space first. Putting up the sheds should be our top priority.”

I could see Chris was ready to argue, his passion for our scientific pursuits evident. However, recognising the need to support Paul's newfound assertiveness, I quickly intervened. "No worries, Paul. Chris and I will go and assess the work that’s already been done on the concrete bases,” I said, aiming to align our efforts with Paul's priorities.

Paul’s expression softened at my words. “Thank you,” he said, his relief palpable.

I gently tugged on Chris’s arm, guiding him away from Paul. Once we were a safe distance away, I gave Chris a serious look. “You start looking at the concrete slabs for the storage shed,” I instructed firmly, emphasising the importance of aligning with Paul's plans. “I need to find some fresh bandages for Kain’s leg.”

Chris nodded, understanding the situation, though I could tell he was reluctant to divert his attention from our agricultural projects.

“I’ll return quickly and help you,” I promised, leaving him with a light kiss as a reassurance of my support.

Finding the medical supplies wasn't difficult, thanks to Glenda's meticulous organisation. Despite our limited resources and lack of formal facilities, she had managed to maintain a semblance of order. The clean bandages were neatly stacked, a small reminder of her efficiency and care.

Returning to the Portal, I found Kain just where I had left him. His figure was slumped, his posture reflecting a deepening despair. It was evident that his brief flicker of hope had diminished even further during my absence.

As I approached, Kain attempted to stand, but his injury and the pain it caused forced him to remain seated. “Where’s Glenda?” he asked, his voice strained with effort and a tinge of hopelessness.

“Kain,” I started, my tone gentle, attempting to mask my own concern and the turmoil inside me. “Glenda, Charity, and Jamie have all left the camp. They’ve gone Portal Pirate hunting.”

The impact of my words was immediate. The little colour that was left in Kain’s face drained away. “Glenda’s gone with them?” he asked, his voice shaking with a mix of disbelief and vulnerability.

I sighed heavily, my fingers absentmindedly playing with the bandages. “Paul didn’t seem like he had much say in the matter,” I said, conveying the helplessness of the situation.

Kain’s expression turned from shock to anger, then to incredulity. “You mean to tell me that I have a gaping hole in my leg and our only doctor has left us?” His disbelief was palpable. “Why would she do that?” he asked, the exasperation in his voice echoing the confusion we all felt.

I couldn’t meet Kain’s searching eyes, feeling overwhelmed by the responsibility suddenly thrust upon us. I looked down at the bandages in my hands, feeling a sense of duty to care for Kain in Glenda’s absence. “I don’t know,” I answered softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Shifting my focus to the task at hand, I knelt beside Kain. “But here,” I said, my voice gaining strength. “I’ve brought some fresh bandages. Let’s get your leg cleaned up.” There was a firmness in my tone, a resolve to do what needed to be done.

Kain nodded reluctantly, his expression a mix of gratitude and resignation.

As I tended to Kain's wound, my movements were quick and efficient, though I made sure my touch was gentle yet firm. As I unwrapped the bloodied bandages, a critical thought crossed my mind. Glenda's stitch work on Kain's wound seemed subpar, far from the quality I had expected from her. It was especially surprising considering the miraculous recovery Joel had reportedly made.

“It’s not looking so great,” I said aloud, more to myself than to Kain, as I meticulously cleaned the wound. The injury was more severe than I had anticipated, and my concern for Kain deepened.

Kain, trying to maintain a brave front, gulped noticeably but managed to speak with a shaky conviction. “I’ll be fine,” he assured me, though his voice betrayed his pain. “Once I get crutches, I’ll be able to walk properly.”

I found his optimism a bit misplaced, given the gravity of his injury. However, I didn't want to completely dispel his hope. Gently, my fingers worked to wrap the fresh bandages around the cleaned wound. Once I finished, I met Kain's gaze. I wanted to offer words of comfort or reassurance, but found myself at a loss. “I’ll be back soon,” I said instead, patting his shoulder in an attempt to offer some comfort. “I have to get some things done back at camp. Are you sure you’ll be okay here by yourself?”

Kain’s affirmation came quickly, his nod swift and seemingly confident.

Standing up, I took one last look at Kain, feeling a twinge of reluctance to leave him there. However, I knew I had responsibilities waiting back at the camp. As I began ascending the slope of the hill, the thick dust covering my boots, I reassured myself with the thought that Luke or Beatrix would return soon. Hopefully, Kain would make a recovery akin to Joel's. This place, it seems, does have some remarkable properties, after all.