Aavitus-Koina Park, Residential Sector,
The main event had started, and its intensity made people's face scrunch up. Many were biting their lips. and many more their nails. The boiling orange sun really mirrored the scene inside this historic park of Hukivawen. It was tense, stuffy, and on the verge of an explosion.
Tonk Latum, the 'Guardian' of Eastern Hukivawen, was currently intently focused on the sand filled, pigskin ball. He was positioned like a bull, shoulders locked with the Guardian of the Royal Team, right above the charge-ball. The humid air had stilled itself for Tonk. His ears were stretched perk, as he patiently awaited the Arbitrator's signal.
"BEGGIIINNN"
Like a released bow of incredible tension, the interlocked guardians began hustling each other. The crowd roared in thrill as they witnessed the two finalist Guardians begin their possession decider.
*****
Under the marquee of the elites, Aavitus-Koina Park,
The bustle inside reflected its outside counterpart, although here chalices and platters were consistently refilled.
Dignitaries all gawked intently as they viewed the interlocked guardians wrestle each other. They saw Tonk slowly gain the upper hand as he successfully pushed the Royal Team guardian a few steps back. As Tonk, gaining the upper hand, desperately tried to reach for the ball, the opponent tried to catch his wrist.
Annoyed cries and audible heaves echoed under the marquee as Tonk successfully claimed the ball. As for the public, they were jubilant. The contrasting atmosphere made the game more alive, as the commoners cheered louder than ever, aiming to add fuel to the elites' fiery ire.
The center of the marquee, though, was eerily dull. A wrinkled old man sat beside a handsome young boy, and beside each stood an exceptionally armored guard. After the possession was decided, the old man relaxed himself on the couch as he commented, "The countrry boy expended too much enerrgy. They'll prrobably take a lead soon, but it won't last the game."
The man's voice was scarily deep, and its reverberation across the space made the neighboring prince wryly smile.
"You are absolutely right, Lord Olaag. Although all players of the royal team can play the guardian role. That guy right there… was the best at it. Furth-"
"Mm…mmm…mm, Antekuus, call me grrandfatherr, I am but yourr grrandmotherr's brrotherr… I rrememberr instrructing you to call me grrandfatherr ages ago. Don't you listen to yourr elderrs?"
The Bluemoon family head's monotone, gravelly, and slow interruption made Antekus cringe intensely. Nonetheless, like always, his face remained calm, and his ever-present charming smile stood another test. Antekus, thus making an obvious face replied, "Of course… Grandfather Olaag. I see you so little now a days that some things really float out of my mind."
"You mean you werre busy since I last saw you?"
Antekus smiled. Old Olaag was testing him. So, all he had to do was act his age. The testing question made one thing abundantly clear: Olaag had come here to gauge him, not confront. Earlier, he had been sweating bullets thinking about the possibility of Olaag knowing about his deviltry. But now he knew Olaag didn't know anything. Otherwise, if Olaag had even a smidge of negative suspicion toward Antekus, such a public meeting would have been off-limits. At the end of the day, who would even think that a fourteen-year-old was responsible for orchestrating Nonjoul massacres in a different nation? Nobody sane, and that! Antekus knew to be his greatest shield.
"Yes, Grandfather! I recently had my adulthood initiation. The excitement for that event was so high that, for a few days, I even forgot my own name, hahaha…"
Olaag, smiling, nodded in acknowledgement of Antekus' joke. Soon the awkward silence returned as after the nod, Olaag turned solemn and ceased talking entirely.
*****
Around half an hour later,
The final game had reached its midway point; it was time for the players to rest and the teams to debrief. The reaction of the viewers visibly told the tale of the first half: Eastern Hukivawen supporters were singing merry songs and chanting praises, whilst the Royal Team fans, with sour expressions, were rambling on about how they would have maneuvered and managed the game better.
Antekus, whilst watching, drank about a pint of his new favorite drink, the 'Kiss of Death' mixture. He didn't feel tipsy yet as he had already asked for the vodka content to be toned down. Nonetheless, it was liquid, so Mother Nature obviously called for him. Standing up, he first stretched, then he turned toward his 'grandfather' to excuse himself. But he got… denied?
"Pardon…"
"You hearrd me rright. If you leave rright now, the temple will apprroach you and ask you, what did you and I talk about."
"…They may, but so what?"
"Sit down, child. I will now tell you a hearrtbreaking storry… Yourr grrandfatherr told me that he warrns you rregularrly about the Temple… but my rrecent discoverry will make you…underrstand his worrds trruerr than everr beforre… Also, I have a prroposition forr you. A prroposition that would make you think twice beforre strrengthening the ties you have with the Temple."
*****
The vast Gaan Forest sprawled across not only the eastern border of Hukivawen but also the hilly north-western border of Dal-Zoh. Being that expansive and dense, it was something of a labyrinth. A labyrinth that had become a haven for the malefactors of both Hukivawen and Dal-Zoh. Thus, it was here, in the depths, that the single most terrifying group of criminals assembled to form a syndicate. Their name, a homage to their habitation, was the Masters of Gaan.
The Masters of Gaan had enough members to establish a pseudo-state, and the jungle was their greatest ally. Obviously, they raided neighboring villages time and again until most were coerced into paying voluntary tributes. But their most plenteous bounty had always been the Kantal Passage. The only route through the hills that connected Hukivawen and Dal-Zoh.
Their outrageous criminal behavior obviously drew the wrath of both afflicted nations, and consequently they gathered their armies to eradicate the bandits. But it didn't take long for the nations to understand that all they were doing was sending their men and resources into the maws of hell. The Gaan forest was the territory of the crooks, and the guerrilla-style attacks and ambushes they launched almost always pushed the national armies back. Thus, armies were called back, and the syndicate in Gaan remained a blight with no cure.
*****
Around a couple of years ago in Zatkin, Hukivawen,
Prince Atkus was currently on a national tour. Everyone knew the reason for the travel was to appeal to the masses and curry favor for the Temple. The Temple had recently sold land they owned to the nation of Xandar. This left them with a lot of money. Money, which they smartly used to 'bless' the faithful. Thus, this nationwide expedition was going seamlessly and was thoroughly fulfilling the agenda. People everywhere waited for the royal cum temple convoy in glee and desire, and were left satisfied and grateful when it arrived and blessed them. Traditional Hukivs, all over gloated and claimed 'I told you so! The True God prevails!'
It was in Zatkin, during his travel, where Atkus received a letter. A letter secured by a sanguine seal with a fire emblem. In it lay a plot. Atkus, looking at the elaborate plan, was deeply amazed, for it lay a path of power consolidation. But, what made him thank the True God faithfully, was the last sentence of the letter. It mentioned the devisers of the plan, and they were the High Guides and… Antekus Repyes, his darling of a son.
*****
A few days later, in Sabin Village, Hukivawen,
It was as dark as it could get, and tonight even the moon hid her face. But under the veil of darkness, in this isolated south-eastern village of Hukivawen, a rendezvous of multinational significance was carried out. The participants: the second prince of Hukivawen and the representative of the Temple of Truth, Atkus Repyes, and the Big Father of The Masters of Gaan, Lok Dok.
On the opposite sides of a crudely constructed wooden table, inside a dimly lit, decrepit old hut, sat both participants. Behind Atkus stood three armed Templars, while behind the brawny Lok was a scarred woman in chains.
"So? What do you think of the proposal?"
Atkus was profoundly repulsed by the boor. He wanted to seal the deal quickly and leave the savage's company as soon as possible. The ignorant Lok though, broadly grinned and replied, "IF THE PROPOSAL WAS SUFFICIENT. WE WOULD HAVE ALREADY DECIMATED MA-PHI BY NOW HAHAHAHA... COME ON, BUMP THE OFFER UP PRINCE. YOU ARE ASKING FOR US TO BE HUNTED DOWN IN DAL-ZOH."
Atkus knew that the savage's words were true, but he didn't want to budge. The Temple had set a cap on what Atkus could offer, a minutely assessed amount that would certainly nail the deal down. But, Atkus really didn't want to budge. If he did it would be a gamble, as what he had been counselled to offer would bleed his current finances dry.
"What else do you want?"
The wide grin stayed on Lok's face as he replied, "YOU KNOW PRINCE, YOUR TOWN IS CALLED THE 'METAL MINE' OF HUKIVAWEN FOR A REASON. WE NEED YOUR IRON HAHAHAHA…"
That was also the Temple's offer. Iron supply from Danlun, the town directly under Atkus' jurisdiction, would financially cripple him. This would severely aggravate the already diminishing standing he had in front of his father. But fuck it! Sacrifices are necessary when one chases the ultimate glory. Although hesitation gripped Atkus' throat, he replied, "Alright, but… the deal only goes through if you agree to aid me hereafter… whenever I need you."
In response, Lok Dok howled in laughter, "…HAHAHA…NEVER THOUGHT THE SON OF THE KING THAT TRIED TO KILL ME WOULD BECOME MY PARTNER!"
*****
A week or so later, in the village of Ma-Phi, Dal-Zoh,
The local people of Ma-Phi hated their Nonjoul neighbors, or rather, as they called them, their oppressors. The Nonjoul aliens were spread all over Dal-Zoh and Hukivawen. This scattered nature of their devious existence eased their trading channels. A Nonjoul always offers another Nonjoul opportunities and concessions. Thus, even though the Nonjouls in Ma-Phi had come to their village just a few decades ago, they had rich Nonjoul buyers and other amenities in the capital and other major towns. Resources the other villagers could only dream of.
Gradually, new reforms inspired by Nonjoul ideals reformed Dal-Zoh. And it didn't take long from there on for the only two Nonjoul families in the village to become the local moneylenders. Every villager soon owed them exorbitant debt, and slowly their land no longer belonged to them.
But a few months ago, this little border village welcomed their saviors. They were apostles of the True God, sent by the Temple of Hukivawen. The villagers started listening to their words which resonated profoundly with them. They also brought grain and money, which they unselfishly shared and distributed. The villagers loved their new prophets more than they hated their oppressors.
The villagers kept their meetings and mentions of these prophets totally hush. And luckily they didn't have to maintain such secrecy for long. The True Saviors, a couple days ago, prophesized that the day of reckoning was today. Thus, they knew that the two Nonjoul families would pay for their sins to the fullest extent.
And lo and behold, the Gaan Demons razed the entire village to the ground before sundown. And what really surprised them, and made them admire the True God even more, was that they only destroyed the village. The resources that the Nonjouls hoarded over the years were all left for the villagers to enjoy.
*****
"… They rraped the women and childrren of the two families. We thought forr a long time that the Gaan Demons took rrevenge on the two poorr families forr a deal gone wrrong. But this grroup of villagerrs was rrecently identified as the sourrce of the Trruth Sect established in Tang-Goh. It has alrready grrown too big to be crrushed. But child don't you think it is obvious who was behind the brrutal murrderr of the two Nonjoul families?"
Antekus stared Olaag solemnly. He knew what had happened, but listening to the details made him sick to his stomach. Guilt crippled him as he looked at the old man's moist eyes. He was sorry! He really was! Antekus couldn't say anything as his body refused to let his mouth to open. Antekus felt his head ache and his body puncture all over with sharp needles.
Olaag, looking at the deeply saddened child, hugged him.
"It is okay child. I know you are a believerr. It must be rreality crrushing forr you… Don't crry now, dearr. I didn't mean to make you crry."
Antekus couldn't reply. He could just mutely nod.
"I want yourr help child. If you can prrovide me evidence of any trransaction orr link of the Temple to the Gaan Demons. Considerr the Bluemoon yourr ally forr life and…the crrown."