Trials of the Ciboro Children
Since the death of the Ciboros, their children had fallen under Alexandre's care. A Viking by birth and a master of the arcane arts of the sword, he became both guardian and mentor, shaping them to harness their unique abilities. In the world's eyes, he was more than a teacher—he was the center of attention, for everyone knew the fates of the Ciboro children rested in his hands.
The children were no ordinary beings. Each carried powers that set them apart, and each knew the inescapable truth: when they died, their bodies would crystallize, granting immense power to those left behind. It was a legacy of both promise and peril.
Alexandre lined them up on the training grounds, eyes sharp and voice steady. "Do not trust anyone blindly," he warned. "And remember, the Great Baba Matuwa exists. He is your guide, your savior, and the key to what lies ahead."
"Who is he, Papa? Why haven't we met him yet?" Jrazm's voice cut through the morning air, sharp with curiosity.
"Indeed," Wamaro added, his tone serious.
"You will meet him when the time comes, by the will of the Almighty," Alexandre replied, his gaze distant, as if seeing far beyond the present.
For over a decade, he drilled them in swordplay, strategy, and combat—preparing them for a world that would not wait for their readiness. But experience in real battle remained beyond their reach. Today, that would change.
"Head to the island," Alexandre commanded, his tone final. "There, you will find something of importance. If you see something flying from above, wait for my instructions. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" the children chorused, expecting another routine exercise.
Minutes later, as the island's mist swirled around them, a massive ship anchored just beyond the shore. The air grew tense, the wind heavy with anticipation.
"You've taken everything from me, Alexandre. Today, our rivalry ends!" shouted Captain Aleph, his voice slicing through the morning haze.
Suddenly, Alexandre's camp was assaulted by Aleph's men. With calm precision, he faced them, persuading some, cutting down others. Nearly half of Aleph's forces fell beneath his skill, yet when he finally confronted Aleph, a new intensity met him—stronger, faster, deadlier than before.
"What do you want, Aleph? Why do you plague me wherever I go?" Alexandre panted, sweat and blood streaking his face, his sword trembling in exhaustion.
"Hahaha! Fool! Everything you stole belongs to me!" Aleph's laughter rang like iron against stone, cruel and unyielding.
The fight escalated. Unlike their previous encounter, Aleph's power had grown, each strike forcing Alexandre back, bruising his body and testing his limits. Blood streaked the ground as the clash of wills continued, and when it was over, most of Aleph's men lay defeated, yet Alexandre himself teetered on the edge of collapse. His energy sapped, his body battered, he remained standing—but only just.
The children watched from a distance, hearts pounding. The lesson had begun—not in drills or simulations, but in fire, steel, and survival. And they would soon learn that the world beyond training was far more ruthless than anything Alexandre could teach them.
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The Battle's Edge and the Call to Destiny
"Hahaha! Stupid! Of course, you took everything that is mine!" Aleph shouted, his rage echoing across the battlefield.
Suddenly, the creature's power surged. Unlike their previous encounter, this time Alexandre was overwhelmed. He fought valiantly, but the wounds and bruises across his body multiplied with each strike. The sheer intensity of the battle had drained him completely.
He managed to defeat most of Aleph's men, leaving only a handful standing, but Alexandre himself was weakening, teetering on the edge of collapse. His strength had been utterly spent.
"Our home is under attack!" Wamaro exclaimed, panic flashing in his eyes.
The children didn't hesitate. They rushed toward the clash, arriving just in time. With the help of the two creatures that had accompanied them, they intercepted Aleph, preventing him from striking down Alexandre.
Seeing the children's combined abilities—and the formidable presence of their creatures—Aleph knew when to retreat. With a final curse, he evacuated immediately, boarding his vessel and vanishing into the brine.
Wamaro gently lifted his father, Alexandre, along with Ahn-Ahn and the Mordallatican Ciboro, onto a nearby island. Alexandre was unconscious, his body battered and weak. Ahn-Ahn knelt beside him, his hands hovering over the wounds.
"Dikü xå Maubatån, Nårœh," Ahn-Ahn murmured.
"We have no medicine capable of fully curing his condition, my father," he continued solemnly.
"The remedy exists," the elder Mordallatican explained, "but she—the healer—is not yet fully trained in its use. For now, the treatment can only relieve the inflammation and ease his suffering."
Seeing no other choice, they resolved to take Alexandre to Mordallatico, where he could properly heal under expert care.
Before leaving, Alexandre managed to speak to the children, summoning the last of his strength.
"Come here, all of you. There is something important you must understand," he said, his voice weak but firm. "Endang, don't be afraid. Come closer."
The children gathered around, their eyes filled with concern and determination, ready to listen to whatever guidance their father and mentor could still give them before their journey to Mordallatico.
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The children huddled closer, their faces a mixture of curiosity and worry. Endang stepped forward hesitantly, her wings trembling.
"Father… what's happening?" Wamaro asked, his hands tightening around the straps of his pack.
Alexandre's breath was shallow, but his eyes burned with determination. "The world outside… it is far more dangerous than you realize. You have trained for years, but true peril does not announce itself before striking. This… this is only the beginning."
Ahn-Ahn lowered his head respectfully. "My children, heed my words. You are not ordinary. Each of you carries a fragment of the power that once belonged to the Ciboros. With it comes both strength and responsibility. Misuse it, and it will destroy not only you but everything you love."
Endang's eyes widened. "Are we… supposed to fight now? Are we ready?"
"You will not fight blindly," Alexandre said, his voice gaining a steadiness that belied his battered body. "You fight with purpose. With wisdom. And you trust only those who have proven themselves worthy. Never forget this lesson. The path ahead will test your courage, your loyalty… even your hearts."
Ahn-Ahn placed a reassuring hand on Wamaro's shoulder. "The journey to Mordallatico will be difficult. The healer we spoke of… she will guide Alexandre's recovery, but her training is incomplete. You must protect him and each other until that day comes."
Wamaro nodded solemnly. "We won't let anything happen to him."
Alexandre managed a weak smile. "I believe in you… all of you. But remember—power alone cannot save the world. It is your choices, your unity, and your courage that will decide what becomes of it. And one day… one day, you may meet the Great Baba Matuwa. He will show you what you cannot yet see."
Jrazm frowned. "Baba Matuwa? Is he… like you?"
"Not like me," Alexandre replied. "He is older… wiser… and bound to the fate of this world in ways you cannot yet understand. Trust in him when the time comes. For now, trust in each other, and trust in yourselves."
The wind rustled through the island trees, carrying with it the distant sound of waves crashing against the rocks. The children exchanged glances, each silently absorbing the weight of their father's words.
Ahn-Ahn stood, signaling it was time. "We leave for Mordallatico at once. There is no time to waste. Danger is already approaching, and the longer we delay, the greater the risk."
As they prepared to depart, Wamaro looked back at the fallen Alexandre. Determination set his jaw. "We will protect you, Father. No matter what comes."
Endang, Harris, Jrazm, and Tatukwe all nodded in agreement. The children, united by blood, by loss, and by the legacy of the Ciboros, took their first steps toward an uncertain future—a journey that would test everything they had learned and everything they were yet to discover.
High above, unseen, shadows stirred. Forces that had slumbered for centuries had begun to awaken, drawn by the awakening power of the children of Ciboro. And so, the first chapter of their true journey began.
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The Awakening of the Warriors of Ciboro
Before departing, Alexandre gathered the children close once more. His voice, though weakened, carried authority and a sense of urgency that demanded their attention.
"One of the most important reminders," he said, "is that you must locate and assemble the Ciboro who have turned into crystal. Alongside them, you must recover the thirteen round amulets—each shaped like a raven. Only then will the balance of the world be restored, and peace return to the forces that stir in chaos."
Wamaro stepped forward instinctively, feeling the weight of the responsibility placed upon him. Alexandre's eyes lingered on him. "From this day forward, the world will know you as the Warriors of Ciboro. Your courage, your unity, and your hearts will determine what becomes of everything that lives and breathes."
The siblings exchanged glances, each silently acknowledging the enormity of their mission. Wamaro, the eldest, instinctively assumed the mantle of leadership, not out of pride, but out of necessity. His siblings recognized it, and together, they understood that their bond would be their greatest weapon.
Ciboro, the Mordallatican, then addressed them, his crystalline aura reflecting the setting sun. "You carry within you not only the blood of your ancestors but also the hopes of countless worlds. Guard it well. Remember that every action has consequence, every choice ripples across existence. I leave with Alexandre now, but what you do next will define the future."
As he prepared to leave, Ciboro's gaze softened. "Ahn-Ahn will remain with you for guidance. Her gift—understanding all languages, communicating with any being—will serve as your compass in the chaos to come. Trust her, for she is the bridge between you and the worlds you have yet to encounter."
The children watched in awe as Ciboro and Alexandre departed. Ahn-Ahn's spacecraft hovered silently, a sleek vessel ready to transport the young warriors to their first objective. Jrazm and Endang climbed aboard her ship, while Tatukwe, Harris, and Wamaro boarded a second craft.
Before liftoff, Wamaro turned to his siblings, his voice steady and resolute. "Life is full of twists and turns," he said, "but as long as we stick together, we can overcome every challenge that comes our way. This is only the beginning, and together, we will write our own fate."
The spacecraft rose, piercing the clouds as the island below became a shrinking memory. The wind carried the echoes of Alexandre's teachings, the weight of the Ciboro's legacy, and the unspoken promise that they would face dangers unlike any they had ever known.
Their first objective was clear: find Baba Matuwa—the key to understanding the prophecy, the solution to the chaos, and the guide who could answer all their questions. Each child, aware of the journey ahead, steeled themselves for the trials that awaited, knowing that what they were about to face would test not only their strength but their very souls.
Above them, the horizon shimmered with uncertainty. The universe itself seemed to hold its breath, aware that the Warriors of Ciboro were no longer just children—they were the hope, the shield, and the sword against the coming storm.
To be continued..