Mirantel city of Gintura Isle — also the only city on the island — was usually thick with pedestrians in the early morning. Its narrow roads echoed with the rowdy din of street vendors who were trying to outshout the others to attract customers. Women went out in a bid to barter for rice grains and flour, and often meat for a better price while men were out to do the breadwinning.

But today, the gravel-roads were desolate. No street vendors. No pedestrians.

The populace gathered in the center of the city and watched the impossible thing made, horror-struck.

Once the bastion of the Bald Brutes, and easily the tallest and grandest of all the buildings in Gintura Isle, the Edinghan Castle was razed to the ground. Its iron capped rampart was now a rubble of tiny black stones. And the castle, itself, was somehow turned into a bloody-grey sand mound. Severed limbs and heads — bald heads — jutted out of the mound here and there.

Blood runnelled down like streams in the mountain. The hot coppery tang of blood hung thickly in the air.

Atop the mound, two youngsters were chatting casually around a golden table. The white-robed youngster, with his gentle smile and carefree gestures, seemed a lot friendlier than the grumpy red-robed youngster who didn’t talk at all other than nodding and shaking his head.

However, their friendly chat over a mound of corpses was quite disturbing.

At their feet, lay a headless corpse. Scarred and charred. One didn’t need to look at the body twice to recognize it was the leader of the Bald Brutes, Dada.

Around the rubble of the rampart, a group of men, wearing red armors that bore a black pagoda mark, stood on guard.

Natives crowded around the area, shocked, dismayed, and terrified. This had been too sudden for them. The Bald Brutes were one of the behemoths of the island. And now, without a sound, they were felled.

The world froze, save for the two youngsters. Birds didn’t chirp. Fleas didn’t buzz about.

Then, they came.

Members of the bald brutes, who were lucky enough to survive the calamity, stormed into the scene. When they approached the guards, they swung their weapons at them furiously. Guards didn’t even lift a finger. They just stood there. When the Bald Brutes’ attacks came near them, a formless barrier conjured in front of them. It spat their attacks back at them. The bald brutes were blasted away.

They got to their feet and charged again, this time more power packed in their strike. But they got blasted away again.

Now it was Blad Brutes’ turn to dismay. However, they charged relentlessly with rage. But it was futile. They couldn’t even put a notch in the barrier. With time, they bled their strength in dribs and drabs. Some of them began to teeter.

Just then, the white-robed youngster stood up and lifted a hand. “You guys, stop bullying them. Where have your virtues gone?” He turned to the Bald Brutes. “You can stop now. I can understand your pain, but you must know I too had no choice here. Your leader had a thing I wanted, and he refused to give it to me. Truly, I had no choice.”

He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. Then he looked at the headless corpse and shook his head. “Unfortunately, he didn’t have it on him. He must’ve stashed it somewhere. It’s a weathered scroll. A map. I’m sure even if you don’t have it, one of you must at least know about it. If you can bring it to me, I’ll reward that person handsomely. You can ask anyone that knows about me. They’ll tell you how generous I am. Of course, if you don’t…” He smiled and nodded at the mound of corpses beneath him.

“I’ll stay here until next fortnight.”

A pair of wings sprang out behind him, and he flew away, leaving the crowd awestruck. And then the red-robed teenager stood up and walked away with the rest of the guards on his heels.

Once they left, the Bald Brutes rushed to the mound of corpses and grieved.

*****

Over the mound of corpses, Ray trembled when he touched Dada. He used to be so warm and fluffy. But now he was cold as ice and stiff as a log.

The warmth was gone. Dada’s smile was gone. He was gone.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

It never occurred to him that Dada would leave him. Dada had promised to hold the sky for him. Now the sky fell, but Dada wasn’t here to hold it.

Despair and sense of loss overwhelmed him. His heartbeats became feeble. His lungs strained for air.

How could this happen? Why did it happen? Don’t leave me, Dada. DADA!

He opened his mouth. “Da... da... da...”

He couldn’t overcome the dryness in his throat. His eyes rolled back into his head. He gasped hard.

Then he felt a slap on the back of his head. He grew still. The world around him blurred. The last thing he saw was Crov lifting him, bundling him up in his weathered arms, and carry him away.

*****

Crov braced himself in a corner of the cave, holding a thick cane. He felt reassured at its weight. His eyes were bleary from all the sleepless nights. But he didn’t dare to avert his eyes from Raenard who was sleeping soundly on a bear hide.

Just then, Raenard stirred. Crov jumped in fright, holding the cane up in the air to strike at any time.

Raenard’s brows scrunched up. “Dada… don’t leave me. Come back…”

His grey hair turned black. Tendrils of black smoke rose from his body.

“All saints and their mothers,” Crov cursed and strike hard on Raenard’s head. Among the many bumps that bulged out of his head, a new one arose.

Raenard fell back into sleep. His hair regained its color. Black tendrils receded into his body.

Crov heaved a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

He hadn’t expected such a weak-looking, scholarly brat would be so spooky when he became unhinged. The dark tendrils had given him a good scare.

He regretted his decision. He should’ve left this brat with the rest there. Unfortunately, his sympathy got the best of him. Now he was paying for it.

As an oddball of the Bald brutes, he felt a connection to this other oddball who was weirdly fond of books — though this little guy didn’t seem to reflect any such fondness to him.

Being a great singer, he hated the fact he got stuck here with these hillbillies who couldn’t appreciate his heavenly voice. He was too good for them.

He wished to achieve great things in his life, to amass a crowd of intelligible fans who knows the worth of his voice. Too bad he realized his talent a tad too late. As of now, he was one hundred and eighty summers old. If all goes well, he would live for twenty summers more. But he was already worn out.

He found the need to nurture this young oddball so that he won’t turn out like him. And hence, he brought him to his secret den, where he often came to sing as he wished. And when the cave echoed his song back, he relished as his song poured into his ears like honey.

He brought Raenard here with a sense of responsibility that many old fogies had. But he had no idea how it turned out like this.

Days passed. Crov started to wonder if he was going to die one of these days. He hadn’t slept. Outside the cave, the world grew dangerous for the members of the Bald Brutes.

Each day, some of the Bald Brutes went missing. Crov knew this was no coincidence. He was afraid for his dear life. He went out in the dead of night to get some food and booze, and slunk back before the sun shined his first ray of light.

Inside, he was hosting a spooky bastard. Outside, those outsiders were on the hunt for the Bald Brutes. Life became a hellhole.

Raenard stirred on the bear hide then. Crov ran for his cane. If not for the fear of unleashing that dark thing inside Raenard, he would’ve beaten him to death a long ago and be done with it.

When he was going to strike Raenard, the accursed brat held out a hand. “I’m fine!”

He was conscious! Crov froze. A sudden pang of panic assaulted him. He had been beating the crap out of this kid whenever he grew conscious for the last four days. Would he seek revenge? Would he unleash that dark thing on him?

The cane fell down. He started to shift nervously on his feet. “Raena — no, young master Raenard, how’s your health?”

Raenard cocked his head. “Still alive. If I take two or three more of your beatings, I won’t be.” His hands went up to the bumps and started massaging them.

Crov shook all over. He fell to his knees and banged his forehead to the ground. “Forgive me, young master Raenard. Your mental condition has been bad. I was worried for you. I had no choice but to put you to rest.”

Raenard came to lift him by shoulders, worriedly. “Grandpa, why are you kneeling? And you can call me Ray.”

Crov was relieved. Yet, he insisted, “But I’ve beaten you up, young—”

“It’s fine, really. And I have you to thank for taking care of me all this while.” He bowed.

Crov heaved a sigh of relief. He nodded. “Good then.”

“Erm, grandpa, how long I’ve been knocked out for? And where are we?” Raenard asked, looking around the cave.

“You’ve been sleeping here for four days. Outside, it got dangerous for the Bald Brutes so I had to bring you to my secret place. Rest assured, nobody knows of this place. We can be safe here. Wait until those damnable outlanders leave the island, we can go back to our normal lives.”

“I’m sorry to cause all that trouble, Grandpa.” Raenard dipped his face in shame. “But what happened to the Bald Brutes? And Dada, was his body was already cremated?”

Crov was at a loss of words. How do I explain it to him?

After mulling over it for a while, he decided to speak the truth. He couldn’t keep Raenard from the reality for far longer anyway.

“After I brought you out of there, Eiran Leopold’s guards came and confiscated Dada’s body. Only after he got the map would he let us have Dada’s body. And as for the Bald Brutes, many of the Bald Brutes went missing. Without a doubt, they were seized by Eiran’s guards. To torture the truth out of them, I assume”

“Eiran Leopold? The guy that killed Dada?” Raenard cocked his eyebrow in displeasure at the note of respect in Crov’s tone.

“Him.” Crov nodded. “He claimed to be the lordling of the house Leopold. Though I don’t know what all those titles meant, from their words, I think they had grand stature and authority in the outside world.”

“Lordling of the house Leopold? All his authority and power hold no meaning on this island. He killed our Dada, and we shall avenge him.”

“You mustn’t! All the strongmen of the Bald Brutes have been felled that night. Only people of my age and yours are spared. I wish he gets the map. Otherwise, all of the rest including the elderly and children might not escape this calamity.”

Raenard flinched then. His hands went up to grope the vest over his chest. Then he heaved a sigh of relief.

“Hmm, what is it Raenard?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing, really.” Raenard shook his head hard. “Grandpa, there’s a thing I must do. I’ll be out for a while.” With that said, he turned around and started his way out.

Pulling a worried face, Crov reached his hand out to stop him. Once Raenard was out of his eyeshot, he heaved a sigh of relief. Finally, the spooky bastard was gone.

His thoughts turned to Raenard’s abnormal behavior just before. The way he responded sat oddly with him.

Suddenly his eyes widened. “Could he have…”