The lifeless body of Thamuz lay in the box. Tawnylon quickly knelt down and placed his palm on Thamuz’s chest, trying to check his pulse.

"His heart is still beating, but very faintly," he said, lifting his head with tears in his eyes.

He stood up and carefully picked up Thamuz, trying not to hurt him more than he already was. He placed Thamuz in his arms and headed to the table where everyone was sitting. Aolani, seeing the state of her son, immediately stood up. She quickly walked over to where Tawnylon was and examined Thamuz, observing every wound he had. Inside, she wanted to scream and cry, but she knew she couldn't do it because she didn't want to tense the atmosphere or worry her husband.

"By Azhamat, what have they done to you, son?" she asked, trying to find some answer in her mind.

Yakrare and Berkam cleared the plates from the table, leaving it empty. Tawnylon approached the table and gently placed Thamuz on it. He observed his son's body: the wounds, the broken arm, the sunken ribs, the marks on his neck showing he had been strangled with great force, and the imprint of a blow on his chest.

A growing rage began to take hold of Tawnylon. He felt his heart start to beat rapidly and his muscles tense, sounding like creaking bones. He clenched his fists and opened his mouth, revealing fangs that had never been seen before. His eyes turned black, and his hair began to levitate. The ground beneath him cracked, causing a small earthquake.

"I am going to kill Zarakel, I swear I will," Tawnylon said in a now deeper and more serious voice.

He began to walk with steps that made the whole place tremble. The heat emanating from his body was palpable, radiating a visible red energy for everyone. Aolani, seeing this, immediately ran towards Tawnylon and stood in front of him, extending her arms in a desperate attempt to stop him.

"No, you won’t. You will stay here, and we will take care of Thamuz," protested Aolani, fierceness in her voice.

"You didn’t hear me, woman. I’m going to kill that bastard. I will rip all the bones from his body," replied Tawnylon, taking a step that made even Aolani's bones shake.

Aolani did not back down, her gaze full of determination.

"If you leave now, what will become of us? What will become of Thamuz?" she said, her voice breaking slightly. "He needs us more than ever. He needs us to be here, together."

Tawnylon raised his hand and opened his palm wide as if he was prepared to strike Aolani. She, without backing down, looked at him fiercely.

"Are you going to hit me? Are you going to make me end up like Thamuz too?" protested Aolani, determination in her voice.

Tawnylon’s arm began to tremble, and he saw how Aolani's eyes filled with tears. Then he felt a strong grip on his waist. He looked back and saw Thamuz, who was hugging him tightly, clinging to him.

"Don’t…hit…mom…please," said Thamuz, gasping.

Seeing this, Tawnylon began to relax little by little. He turned around and knelt to get a better look at Thamuz. He grabbed him by the shoulders and began to speak to him:

"Come, let’s go home. You will soak in a bandamenas water bath to recover," he said, hugging him carefully to avoid hurting him. "Armesto, get some barrels of bandamenas water!"

Armesto heard the order and, along with Yakrare, headed to a small cabin on a hill. They brought several barrels and returned to where Tawnylon and Thamuz were.

"Come, we have a large wooden tub to put Thamuz in," said Armesto, easily lifting four barrels under his arms.

Yakrare grabbed two barrels and put them under his arms. Aolani and Tawnylon helped Thamuz walk, while Narek and Berkam also tried to help him.

"Your friend is very heavy," said Berkam, holding Thamuz's arm.

"He weighed more than twenty kilos when he was a baby," said Aolani, trying to lighten the situation.

They reached the place indicated by Armesto and found a large wooden tub. Tawnylon gently lifted Thamuz and sat him at the bottom of the tub. Armesto tried to uncork the barrels to pour the bandamenas water, but they were very tight.

Seeing this, Tawnylon grabbed one of the barrels and, with great force, removed the top and poured its contents into the tub. He repeated the process with the other barrels until the tub was full, covering almost all of Thamuz's body except for his head.

"Son, I’m going to immerse your whole head, leaving only your face out. I want you to stay like this for several hours," said Aolani, holding Thamuz's head.

"Yes…" Thamuz replied in a faint voice.

Aolani, with delicate but firm hands, immersed Thamuz's head until only his face was out of the bandamenas water.

"Stay calm, son. This bandamenas bath will help you recover," Aolani whispered, gently stroking his forehead.

Thamuz slowly opened his eyes, his blurred vision gradually focusing on the worried faces of his parents. The pain throbbed in every fiber of his being, but the presence of his loved ones provided an indescribable comfort. He closed his eyes again, allowing the healing water to begin its work, its magical properties flowing through his wounds.

One by one, the visitors left the room. First Narek and Berkam, their steps heavy with concern. Then Yakrare, casting a final compassionate glance at the young warrior. Armesto lingered a little longer, making sure everything was in order before leaving with a tired sigh. Finally, only Tawnylon and Aolani remained, watching over their son with a mix of love and anxiety.

"Who do you think could have done this to him?" Aolani asked, her voice barely a whisper as she watched Thamuz floating in the healing water.

Tawnylon crossed his arms, his brow furrowed in concentration. "I don’t think it was Zarakel directly. He’s too weak and slow to beat Thamuz this way. He must have used someone extremely strong."

Aolani nodded slowly, a memory forming in her mind. "Now that you mention it, it makes me think of his son. When he introduced him to us in the village, he was much bigger than you, and you’re three meters tall. But he seemed… childish, almost idiotic in his behavior."

"Those who act childishly are often the most dangerous," Tawnylon reflected, his deep voice laden with concern. "They see everything as a game, considering themselves the players while treating others as disposable toys, without any value."

"You’re right," Aolani agreed, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "That Gigantino is someone we should fear and watch closely."

Suddenly, Aolani felt strong arms around her waist. She turned slightly to find Tawnylon, his face a mask of remorse.

"What’s wrong, love?" she asked, confused by the sudden gesture.

Tawnylon took a deep breath before speaking. "I’m sorry for my violent behavior earlier. I felt the rage cloud my mind, my blood boiling with anger. I never meant to hurt you."

Aolani listened to her husband's words, her heart touched by the sincerity in his voice. She returned the embrace and, standing on tiptoe, gave him a slow, tender kiss on the lips before looking into his eyes.

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"What you showed demonstrates how much you love our son, how much you’re willing to sacrifice for him," she said tenderly. "But I couldn’t let you go. We don’t know what plans has Zarakel. Perhaps what he did to Thamuz was a trap to lure you to his castle and use some of his old tricks against you.

They melted into a deeper embrace, sealing their bond with another kiss. Exhausted from the emotional stress of the situation, they sat in a corner of the room, near the jar where Thamuz was recovering. Gradually, fatigue overcame them, and they fell asleep, their bodies entwined in a gesture of mutual protection.

Meanwhile, on a nearby hill, Narek and Berkam sat in silence, their eyes lost in the vast night sky. The stars shone with unusual intensity, as if the universe itself wanted to offer a bit of light in these dark times.

"Do you think he will be okay?" Berkam finally asked, his voice barely audible.

"I had never seen him hurt like that. It looks like a mountain fell on him," Narek replied, placing his arms behind his head as he looked at the sky. "But a bath in bandamenas water can help a lot with recovery."

"Well, if they said Thamuz was in Zarakel's castle before, don't you think someone very strong did this to him? Maybe... maybe it was Gigantino," Berkam suggested, hugging his knees to his chest.

Narek gave him a small glance and lay down on the grass. He let out a big sigh, closed his eyes, and began to speak:

"Have I ever told you about my brother?"

"Markat? Yes, you've talked about him. About how he was a shamonak fighter, a very good one," Berkam replied, lying down next to Narek.

"Yes, they called him 'the walking mountain' because no matter how many times you hit him, he wouldn't fall. Regardless of the attack, he won several battles, making my father very proud with his victories."

"You must have felt a bit jealous of that," Berkam commented, looking at Narek.

"No, not really. My father knew my body wasn't made for shamonak combat, so he kept me a bit away from that world. But he still took me to see some fights, especially my brother's."

"How sweet. I imagine you excited to see your brother fight," Berkam said, with a small smile.

"I really adored my brother. Every time I saw him fight, it was like a god came down from the sky and took control of his body. But one fight in particular ended his life."

"What happened?" Berkam asked, trying to sound as calm as possible.

"Gigantino, in those times, had developed a curiosity for shamonak. Zarakel held private fights in his castle and showed them to Gigantino to develop a fanaticism for them. There's no doubt it worked. Gigantino asked his father to enlist him as a shamonak fighter, which was granted. He destroyed all his opponents with sheer brute strength, like a beast rather than a rational being. That was until he fought my brother."

Narek paused, his gaze lost in the stars as the memories of that fateful day flooded his mind. Berkam waited in silence, respecting his friend's moment of reflection.

"On the day of the fight between Markat and Gigantino, the arena was full," Narek continued, his voice barely a whisper. "Everyone wanted to see the 'king's son' face 'the walking mountain.' My father and I were in the front row, proud and confident in Markat's victory."

Narek sat up, crossing his legs, his eyes now fixed on a distant point.

"When Gigantino entered the arena, silence fell over the crowd. He was enormous, much more than we had imagined. Markat looked like a child next to him. But my brother showed no fear; he stood firm, ready for the fight."

Berkam listened attentively, feeling the tension in Narek's words.

"The fight began, and at first, it seemed like Markat might have a chance. He dodged Gigantino's blows with agility, taking advantage of every opening to counterattack. But every blow he landed... it was like hitting a mountain. Gigantino barely flinched."

Narek closed his eyes, as if the memory was too painful to keep them open.

"Then, Gigantino managed to catch Markat. He lifted him as if he weighed nothing and..." Narek paused, his voice breaking slightly. "What followed was a massacre. Gigantino wasn't fighting; he was playing. He destroyed my brother limb by limb, laughing all the time like a child with a new toy."

Berkam held his breath, horrified by the description.

"When it was over, there was barely anything recognizable of Markat. Zarakel declared Gigantino the winner, as if it had been a normal fight. The crowd was in shock. My father... I had never seen him cry before that day, you can see him calm near Zarakel because of his job, but truly, he wishes to put his hands on Zarakel's neck and strangle him with all his might."

Narek opened his eyes, looking directly at Berkam.

"Since then, Gigantino has been the undefeated shamonak champion. No one dares to challenge him. And now, Thamuz..."

"Thamuz will have to face him," Berkam finished, understanding the gravity of the situation.

Narek nodded slowly.

"That's why I'm so worried. Thamuz is strong, perhaps the strongest I've seen since Markat. But Gigantino... he's a monster in human form. Not just because of his strength, but his cruelty. He enjoys the suffering of others."

"Do you think Thamuz has any chance?" Berkam asked, his voice filled with concern.

Narek was silent for a moment, carefully considering his response.

"If anyone can defeat Gigantino, it's Thamuz. He has something my brother didn't have: a purpose beyond victory. He fights for something bigger than himself. That could make the difference."

Suddenly, a terrifying screech echoed from the horizon. Narek stood up and watched as something was flying in the darkness. He strained his eyes and saw it was a winged, deformed creature carrying what seemed to be a letter in its twisted claws.

"That's one of Zarakel's messenger birds, though it looks different than usual," Narek explained, crossing his arms as a shiver ran down his spine.

The creature had arrived and seemed to be a complete aberration. Where there should have been eyes were only empty cavities pulsating with a sickly purple light. Its wings were fused with its flesh and covered in suction cups secreting a viscous, phosphorescent liquid. Its legs, covered in blackened scales, were full of scars forming intricate patterns, like arcane runes. It raised one of its limbs to deliver the letter to Narek.

"Zarakel... read... letter," the creature gasped, trying to form coherent words with a mouth full of sharp fangs and a bifurcated tongue.

"Thank you, you may go now," Narek said, receiving the letter with a trembling hand.

The creature nodded slightly, emitting a guttural croak, and took flight again, disappearing into the night lit by three moons of different colors. Meanwhile, Narek glanced at the letter, noticing the envelope was sealed with black wax and a symbol he recognized.

"It's for my father. I wonder what it is," Narek said, showing it to Berkam.

"Why don't you open it?" Berkam asked, with notable curiosity about the letter and a glimmer of worry in his amber eyes.

"My father doesn't like us looking through his things, especially letters from Zarakel. Come, let's deliver it to him," Narek said, extending his hand to Berkam.

Berkam took his hand and intertwined his fingers with his. They descended the hill and headed towards the house, illuminated by several blue-flamed torches on the walls, providing an ethereal clarity against the darkness of the night.

They arrived at the house and saw his father sitting at a giant dark wood table, carved with ancient symbols. He held a steaming cup in his hand, from which a sweet, intoxicating aroma emanated. He seemed lost in thought, as if he were looking at something beyond the walls of the room. Narek released Berkam's hand and signaled her to stay in place. He approached his father and touched his shoulder, causing him to startle and look at his son with glassy eyes.

"Oh, hello, son. I didn't see you come in," Armesto said, lifting his cup slightly. His voice sounded distant, as if it came from far away. "What do you have there?"

"Zarakel seems to have sent you a letter. I haven't opened it, for precaution," Narek said, placing the envelope in front of his father.

"It's okay, son, I'll read it later. By the way, doesn't your friend have a home to return to? She's been here for several hours and her parents must be very worried," Armesto commented, finishing with a sip from his cup.

"You're right, I'll ask her," Narek replied, leaving his father at the table.

Narek approached Berkam and asked her gently:

"What about your family? Haven't they sent someone for you?"

"Oh, that's right," Berkam replied, nervously playing with a lock of her hair. "My parents left the city some time ago. They mentioned something about selling some rare minerals they discovered on our lands. Because of that, our house is empty, but I've secured it well to prevent intruders."

"I understand. Let me ask my father something," said Narek, turning toward Armesto.

Narek turned and saw his father examining the letter with a serious expression. He raised his voice to ask:

"Can Berkam stay tonight?"

Armesto looked up, giving a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "Of course. Choose the best guest room and rest peacefully," he replied, taking a final sip of his drink.

The young ones smiled and headed toward the rooms. Meanwhile, Armesto continued studying the missive. With trembling hands, he broke the seal with his nail and extracted the parchment. His eyes widened as he read its contents:

"I suppose you have received the package I prepared especially for you. My son made sure to play with it enough, delighting in the way its bones broke and its screams drowned in the blood that flowed from its broken ribs. But there was something even more gratifying: its look. That innocent look that turned into pure terror was an indescribable pleasure for me. Watching death take the soul of that little bastard was something delirious, but I couldn’t let it die so soon. I must make it suffer more.

I must show Tawnylon that I still remember the humiliation he made me go through in the past when he forced me to hide in the darkness. But now, everything is different. Now I have the power and control to change everything. Therefore, as a show of my generosity, I have decided to resume the shamonak to death tournament. And I demand Thamuz's presence in the arena. Tomorrow."