The morning sun broke over the horizon, casting long, golden fingers across the Kabua village. It was a day of departures and transitions. Near the village entrance, the air was filled with the sounds of a family parting ways—the rustling of travel packs, the low murmur of final instructions, and the occasional soft laugh.
"Bye... bye... Big Sister! Bye, brother-in-law!" Manu and Lara called out, their voices bright and rhythmic. Fuyu stood beside them, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched Sara. Her eyes met his for a fleeting second, a silent, heavy reminder of the "love" they had confessed in the dark and the secret invitation to her hut.
Yasu, looking energized and motivated, adjusted the heavy strap of his resource bag. Beside him, Rana stood tall, his weathered face set in a look of duty. Today was an important day; the village patriarch had called a meeting of the elders for a high-level discussion on winter preparations and territory. Rana would walk with his eldest daughter and her husband for the first mile before veering off toward the chief's grand longhouse.
"Take care, you guys... Walk swiftly and keep your eyes on the trail," Nula called out, waving her hand until the trio had disappeared behind the bend of the hill. She stood there for a moment, the silence of the village settling around her, before turning back toward her own home.
Inside the central hall, Manu, Fuyu, and Lara were already gathered. The energy in the house had shifted; with Sara gone, the space felt larger, yet quieter. Lara, usually the first to help her mother with the laborious task of serving and cleaning, sat back with a strange, newfound air of detachment. She was acting entirely natural—no lingering tension from the night before, no visible worry—just her usual, slightly mischievous self.
Nula began to serve the morning meal, the steam from the grain bowls rising into the rafters. She sat down beside her sons, her maternal instincts buzzing with a low-level anxiety that always surfaced when the men of the house were scattered.
"Manu, Fuyu, listen to me closely," Nula said, her voice dropping into a serious, cautionary register. "Today is different. Your father isn't going to the fields with you. You must be conscious of your surroundings. Do not wander too far into the forest edges. The wilderness has a way of changing when the protectors are away; wild animals are bolder, and the shadows are deeper. I don't want to lose my sons to a stray leopard or a hidden pit."
Manu, chewing heartily on a piece of dried meat, rolled his eyes with the typical bravado of a young boy. "No need to tell us, Mom. We already know. We'll stay close to the others. But to tell you the truth, there hasn't been a single predator around that area for moons. Just a few chirping birds and some squirrels. It's boringly safe."
Nula didn't look convinced. "But still... be conscious. The forest doesn't give warnings."
"We will, Mother," Fuyu added, his voice calm and reassuring. He looked at Nula with a steady gaze that seemed more mature than it had been only a week ago. Nula smiled, patting his hand.
"Good. And remember: return before the sun touches the horizon. I want everyone inside before the night-chill sets in."
With the meal finished, Manu and Fuyu set out. The path to the fields was a well-trodden vein of dirt cutting through the tall grass. Manu, fueled by the crisp morning air and the absence of his father's stern gaze, suddenly let out a yelp of excitement.
"Let's go straight to the field! Race you!" he shouted, bolting forward. Fuyu didn't hesitate; he matched his brother's pace, his muscles feeling fluid and powerful. As they ran, they began to merge with other groups of boys and young men heading in the same direction.
Among them was Rayn, a lanky boy known for his perpetual dissatisfaction. As they slowed to a walk near the irrigation ditches, Rayn began his daily ritual of complaining. "Hah... I am truly tired already. Why do we still have to go to the field when the elders are busy? My dad is at the meeting too. We should be resting, not suffocating in the heat and pulling weeds. This life is a struggle."
"Come on, Rayn, don't be so lazy," a voice interjected. It was Sahar, a boy slightly older than the rest who often acted as a self-appointed group leader. He had a glint in his eye that signaled trouble. "Today is a gift. No one is coming to watch us. Our fathers are all at the patriarch's meeting. We aren't going to break our backs in the dirt all day."
The boys gathered around, their interest piqued. Sahar leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "We'll go to the fields just to show our faces, but then... we're going inside the Great Forest. We're going to stroll around the Deep Woods."
A collective gasp went through the group. The Great Forest was the stuff of legends and nightmares—a place of ancient trees and "spirits" that the village adults feared to tread.
"Our parents exaggerate because they're old and slow," Sahar continued, his chest puffing out. "If we go in there and return safely, our respect in the village will go to another level. Think about it. I could finally prove to Hana that I'm a man of courage. I'd be able to ask for her hand without her brothers laughing at me."
The lure of status and masculinity was a powerful bait. In their culture, bravery was the ultimate currency. While some boys looked pale at the suggestion, the fear of being labeled a coward was stronger than the fear of the trees. Fuyu felt a strange, internal pull—a desire for adventure that felt amplified by the spirit lingering in his blood. He nodded his agreement along with the others.
The transition from the sun-drenched fields to the edge of the forest was jarring. The Great Forest stood like a wall of emerald and shadow, the temperature dropping noticeably as they approached the treeline.
"Brother Sahar... I am afraid we really shouldn't do this," one of the younger boys whimpered, his eyes darting toward the impenetrable thickets. "It looks... wrong."
Sahar turned, a cruel sneer twisting his features. "It only looks scary because you're looking at it from the outside. If you're a girl, then run away, coward. Go home and help the women with the pots, you transgender rat. We aren't going back."
The insult was the ultimate "shut-up" tool in their social circle. To be compared to a female was a stain no boy wanted to carry. Those who had been on the verge of fleeing immediately squared their shoulders, declaring they weren't afraid.
However, as they took the first steps into the interior, the bravado began to leak out. One by one, boys began to slip away, their fear of the unknown finally outweighing their fear of Sahar's tongue. By the time they were fifty yards deep, only four remained: Sahar, a boy named Kie, Manu, and Fuyu.
The forest floor was a treacherous carpet of decaying leaves, tangled vines, and hidden roots. Huge, ancient trees blocked out the sky, creating a perpetual twilight. Every snap of a twig sounded like a bone breaking.
"Fuyu," Manu whispered, grabbing Fuyu's arm. His voice was trembling. "We should leave. This feels... heavy. Look at the ground; if there were a pothole or a snake pit, we wouldn't even see it before we fell."
"It's just trees, Manu," Fuyu said, though he too felt the oppressive weight of the silence. "Think of Rani. Think of how she'll look at you when you tell her you conquered the Great Woods."
"Brother Sahar, how much further?" Kie asked, his voice shaking as he stumbled over a root.
"Just a bit more!" Sahar shouted, his voice echoing eerily. "See? There's nothing here. Just wind and rustling leaves. We'll find something to bring back—a rare feather or a stone—to brag about."
But the forest had other plans. As they pushed deeper, the landmarks began to blur. The trees looked identical, and the dense canopy obscured the position of the sun. Suddenly, the confidence drained out of Sahar's face. He turned in a circle, his breath coming in short gasps.
"Which way... which way did we come from?" he asked, his voice rising in panic.
"It's your fault!" Kie yelled. "You didn't mark the trees! We're trapped!"
The next three hours were a nightmare of aimless wandering. They ran in circles, the panic causing them to lose all sense of direction. They shouted for help, but the dense foliage swallowed their voices. Just as the shadows began to grow long and the boys were on the verge of a total breakdown, Sahar stumbled upon a familiar-looking stream bed.
"This way! I found it!" he screamed.
They scrambled through the brush, bursting out of the treeline and back into the golden light of the fields like drowning men reaching the surface. They collapsed onto the grass, sobbing with relief.
"Hah... finally. Thank goodness," Kie wheezed. "My mother's prayers saved me."
"Your mother?" Sahar snapped, quickly trying to regain his ego. "It was me! I kept my head and found the trail. I saved you all from that hell!"
Rayn and the other "cowards" who had stayed near the fields quickly surrounded them. "Where is Fuyu?" Manu suddenly shouted, his voice full of dread. "Sahar, where is Fuyu? He was behind us during the panic. I haven't seen him since we crossed the stream!"
The boys looked at each other, a heavy silence falling over them. Manu began to wail, thinking of what Nula would do to him. Rayn stepped forward to comfort him. "Manu, we tried... but in that rush... Fuyu might be..."
Suddenly, the bushes behind them rustled violently. The boys jumped back, expecting a predator, but instead, Fuyu hopped out into the clearing, looking remarkably calm. His clothes were slightly dusty, but he was unharmed.
"Fuyu!" Manu cried, throwing his arms around him. "Where were you? We thought you were eaten!"
Fuyu shrugged, a small, mysterious glint in his eyes. "I just had to stop and pee," he lied smoothly. "The panic made me lose sight of you, but I just followed the sound of Sahar's shouting. I found the way eventually."
The boys cheered, slapping Fuyu on the back, unaware that during those lost hours, the spirit within him had led him to something far deeper in the woods than they could ever imagine.