I bit my Glass teeth while staring out into a field of corpses.

Everything from the smallest of insects to several tens of Shock Turtles and Pangolins.

All failures that dirtied my island.

A certain figure had visited me a few times and although he still terrified me, he couldn’t stop me from continuing my experiments.

I turned to the incubator to my right and saw, tied next to it, a man whose eyes quaked with fear.

He was a Chofumah man meaning he had long transparent hair which reached his lower back.

I knew now that it was made of HCT but if that was the case then why weren’t the humanoids able to use magic?

I shook my head in an attempt to clear it before raising my hands.

I needed to find a way to transfer souls from one vessel to another and so stared into the man’s eyes, which were reddened from crying, but just as I thought to transfer his soul into its doll, I fell to my knees and clutched my belly as it filled with a horrible sensation.

One that would have made me vomit if I had a normal stomach.

I couldn’t do it.

It started after the third failure... At least, I think it did.

The same dread I felt whenever he appeared consumed me.

Why?

Why was I failing and where could I find the answers I wanted?

The Pāttiram were gone but even they had questions they couldn’t find the answers to due to one reason or another.

I squeezed my fist and raised my head before staring at the man once more as he repeatedly begged for his life.

I needed to use him to further my studies but what was the point if it just ended in failure?

What would he have died for?

I let out a sigh before undoing the binds around the man’s neck.

I then, with a hanging head, turned to the south while carrying the man using Gravity Magic.

It was late in the evening but Mlezi and company were most likely still up so I flew into the sky and made my way to the southern continent at a fair speed so as to not kill the man.

He was screaming like a banshee but ignored him before dropping his off by the southern continent’s northern coast.

I then flew south and raised a brow upon seeing that several Chofumah settlements were on fire.

I knew that the Pangolin population north of the Kifo Valley was high but I guess they had become far too plentiful for the Chofumah to handle.

Speaking of which, I spotted a group of two hundred making its way south towards the Kifo Valley.

I knew they were fleeing their homeland, the Afor Forest, but surely dying to the Pangolins was preferable to being eaten alive by all that called the Dark Valley home.

I flew past the group and eyed something several kilometres west of the Umande village.

I flew in that direction and saw that a few people had set up camp around the freakish tree I messed with ten years prior.

They even worshipped the thing and although it was robust and gave them fruits every winter, none of its seeds could grow anywhere else since they required a lot of water and fertile land.

The group that lived around the freakish tree were interesting at first but they didn’t do much so I finally made my way to Mlezi’s hut where I found him standing next to a sweat-covered Musa who was now fifteen.

He had grown to be taller than Mlezi, standing two metres tall, but was lanky and walked with a slight hunch.

Mlezi had made him a spear which he proudly held in his right hand.

He was also now big enough to wear the Pāttiram robe although it was a little short.

He didn’t seem to mind and wore it too with pride.

Like Mlezi, he had acquired several scars although he had never faced a Pangolin.

He had just finished his round of evening patrolling and was due to rest for a few hours before heading out again.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“All is as clear as the sky, Baba.” He reported making Mlezi nod.

The two then made their way to the hut where Ua and her five-year-old son awaited them beneath the veranda.

The small boy noticed their approach and left his mother’s side.

He then ran up to Musa who picked him up before slowly spinning him around.

“You’re back!” The boy celebrated with a bright grin.

“I wasn’t even gone for that long.” Musa chuckled while placing the boy on his shoulders.

“WEEE!” The boy sounded while Mlezi and Musa made their way to Ua who sat patiently with her arms on her lap.

“Be careful.” She cautioned, prompting Musa to put the boy down.

“Aww! But I could see everything from up there!” The boy whined as Mlezi and Musa took the log seats next to Ua.

“Listen to Mama, Jua. We wouldn’t want you to hurt your cute little head on the roof, now would we?” Musa teased but this made Jua’s face grow red.

“I’m not cute! I’m tough, like you and Baba!” He pouted but this just made Musa break out into laughter.

“Sure, you are.”

“I am!” Jua yelled with teary eyes but at this point, both Ua and Mlezi had joined Musa in amused laughter.

This was the last straw for Jua and so he rushed towards Musa with his fists raised and, in a flash, Musa grabbed the boy and firmly placed him on his lap.

The act was so sudden that Jua didn’t know how to react.

Musa then placed his large hand on the boy’s head before gently rubbing it.

“I jest, dearest bother. I know that you are tough but, fortunately for you, your strength will never be needed so long as Baba and I are here.”

“B-but I want to help.” Jua whimpered.

“I know. Ah- do you really want to help?” Musa asked with a warm smile.

“Yes.” Jua sniffled.

“Alright, then go get Mama some fresh water.” Musa grinned making Jua gasp.

“Aww! Why do I have to do that? The river is so far away and the vase gets really heavy when it’s full and- and- and-”

“Ah-ah. Remember what you said. You wanted to help, right?”

Jua turned to Ua who simply smiled in response.

He then turned to Mlezi who didn’t respond.

The boy let out a defeated sigh before getting off Musa’s lap.

He grabbed an old water vase from nearby and made his way to the river with drooped shoulders.

“You shouldn’t tease him too much,” Ua said.

“Mmm? Oh- I’ll try but he just makes it too easy sometimes.” Musa chuckled while turning to face Mlezi and Ua.

“That may be true but the harder you coddle him, the harder he will try to prove himself to you and your father. You need to be careful as he may one day get hurt.”

Musa frowned a little upon hearing Ua’s words.

“But you always say-“

“I know. I just want you to be careful.” Ua said prompting Musa to turn to Mlezi who simply crossed his arms.

Musa sighed before glancing at the strips of dried meat that hung from the ceiling.

“Alright. Speaking of caution, gazelle are getting scarcer. Either something is eating them or scaring them away from our hunting grounds. Which do you think it is, Baba?” He asked but something kept me from hearing Mlezi’s answer.

I turned to the river and saw that several children, who looked like they had also been sent to fetch water, were throwing small rocks at Jua who loudly cried as he sat helplessly by the riverbank.

“Go back to your undead brother, ghoul!”

“Yeah! My mother said that neither of you are supposed to be alive!”

“You’re the reason why the village is struggling, freak!”

The children yelled but it wasn’t long before their mothers saw what they were doing from further up the river.

They hurriedly grabbed their children and took them back to the spot further up, leaving Jua to cry in the mud.

The villagers, ever superstitious, had blamed Musa for a lot of their problems.

The shortage of food, sickness or the death of a loved one.

It was all brought on by Musa’s curse, the Curse of the Boy Who Should Be Dead.

According to hushed whispers, the spirits would take one child each year so long as Musa was alive.

Mlezi and Ua obviously didn’t believe this and they seemed relieved that Musa was growing to be a confident young man but Jua on the other hand…

Several minutes eventually passed, in the cold of night, and Musa arrived at the river to find Jua sobbing on the ground.

He quickly ran to his brother’s side and lifted him from the cold mud.

“Jua! What happened? Who did this to you?” Musa cried but the boy was in no condition to speak as his body violently quivered from the cold so Musa quickly grabbed the Vase and ran back home.

“What happened?” Ua shrieked as Musa handed Jua to her.

“I’m not sure but I think it was those brats again!” Musa hissed as Ua took Jua inside.

Mlezi’s brows knotted as he looked to the south.

“What should we do, Baba?” Musa asked with a twisted expression.

Mlezi turned to his son and deeply sighed.

“Nothing.”

Musa’s face then went through several changes. From confused, to infuriated, to desperate and ultimately defeated.

“A-alright.” He sighed while turning.

He then joined Ua inside as she helped nurse Jua’s wounds.

While this was happening, Mlezi noticed the approach of a certain group of people.

He dashed onto his feet and barked for Musa to join his side after grabbing his spear.

The two walked up to the northern limit of their home and cautiously watched as the group, which had been reduced to only a hundred people, approached.

The group walked ahead and stopped about ten meters from Mlezi and Musa.

The night was dark, meaning neither party could really see each other.

One of the Chofumah said something but Mlezi and Musa couldn’t understand what they were saying.

I thought about landing in between them but if me randomly altering a tree created a subgroup of the Umande, then my appearance now would most likely alter the course of history significantly.

I returned my focus to Mlezi and the Chofumah and it seemed as though they had brought out an interpreter.

Apparently, he had been to the Hatua Planes a few times before and was actually the reason the Chofumah knew the way here.

He mentioned that he was a scout who had been sent out to look for potential new homes and he had stayed with the Umande a few years back.

He told Mlezi of the plight of his people but the one-armed hunter sadly shook his head and said that he had no help to offer.

He did, however, direct them to the main Umande village.

The Chofumah gave him their thanks before making their way south and as each of them passed Mlezi’s home, he saw that they were in a most pitiful state.

The men were beaten and bloody with several of them missing limbs.

Some mothers even carried on their backs their children only it was clear they had long since died.

I guessed that they carried them along so as to not have their corpses picked apart by wildlife.

The Chofumah eventually reached the Umande village and while they begged the village elders for refuge, I flew north to see if any of the Chofumah remained and, to my surprise, a few groups could be seen here and there but this painted a grim picture for the humanoids.

If they weren’t able to overcome nature, they wouldn’t be around for much longer.

Mmm…

If they died out, I would lose a major source of daily entertainment.

Maybe… it was time for some divine intervention.