KING

  It was a modest village, scattered with small straw-made shelters. The middle of this small village was surrounded by an abundance of its townspeople. Something had caught their attention and was responsible for such an unusually packed gathering of people. They all seemed eager as they circled the magnet of the attention.

  What was in the circle of the townspeople, was a fragile weak child who had chains wrapped around his wrist. He seemed to be a slave. Surrounding the child was a group of five warriors, each dressed in half burgundy and brown fur cloaks. Strangely enough, these five had all been beating this weak fragile child for the better half of an hour. They were boastful, they felt entitled to this child's body as if they owned him, it was like he was a toy.

  They didn't have a thought of care for the child they were mercilessly beating. Neither did the townspeople who gathered to watch this wicked beatdown. The only thing the crowd felt, was a great sense of joy. This was merely just a form of entertainment to them.

  "Yeah kill that slave!" "Don't let him get up!" The townspeople chanted, almost begging for more entertainment.

  Despite the dehumanizing scenery, the village had somehow not cared for any of its disturbance at all.

  Amongst the crowd of townspeople, there was Bjorn who was concealing himself in the dense atmosphere. He was wearing his brown hooded cape but was cloaked in a wide straw hat long enough to cover his face from the public eye. He too witnessed the brutality of this beating. He clenched his fist tight, rage surged within him as he observed this poor childs life being snuffed out. He blazed with fury and deep-rooted thoughts formed in his heart.

  "Another one beaten... This world is disgusting." He looked to the sky aimlessly, like a cry for change.

  1 month later

  It was the crack of dawn, with the sun shining upon a vast forest. Of course, trees were abundant. However, the palettes of all the trees' leaves appeared with strange colors; they all seemed to have strange shades of pink and purple much like a cherry blossom tree. But their stems and branches were more reminiscent of giant maple trees. The trees were tall, standing around 40 feet. And from a bird's eye view, you would think this vast forest was a nest for giants.

  Amongst the endless giant trees of this fearsome forest, there seemed to be a small stone hut set out on a campsite. Though the small hut seemed to be made as a place of convenience for only a limited time, it was built with a sense of care. Like a place for a small village family, this small hut was made with rooms for each person who stayed within it, giving each one a place to rest their heads.

  On top of the hut was a blue flag logoed with the sign of a brown bear. This flag marked the sign of the Ursus Tribe.

  It had been around 2 months since they left the wretched Outlands. In that time they sailed the seas for about a month and found themselves on the shore of a foreign land. This land being the gigantic forest their small hut resided in.

  Just outside their hut, some of the tribe members had gathered around a campfire, one of them being Bo. Of the members, one seemed to be telling a story of some sort.

  The man telling the story looked to be in his mid-to-late 20s and stood around 5 foot 9 inches tall. His hair was black, and he had a distinct style of two loose hair buns on the right and left sides of his head with loose hair falling down the side of them. He wore a ragged grey and brown vest, but what stood out most was on his back. On his back was a bow and quiver for him to place his arrows. His name was Nero.

  He seemed to be telling a story of sorts, where he fought in a battle back when he and the Ursus Tribe were still in the Outlands.

  He claimed as he told his tale, "It was a fierce battle against a formidable enemy warrior, who possessed a powerful axe known as a Mantle."

  "Does anyone know what a Mantle is?" Nero inquired, prompting the other members to answer.

  Immediately Bo raised his hand and spoke passionately, "Mantles are weapons that have their own unique supernatural abilities, they come mostly in standardized weaponry such as swords, axes, spears, bows, arrows, etc. But mantles can be anything that grants supernatural powers."

  Nero applauded Bo's response. "Correct Bo! And the guy I faced had a Mantle that could form an impenetrable body barrier. His strategy was to shield himself and launch attacks from within, thinking he was invincible. However, he overlooked a vulnerability on his backside."

  Anticipation was reflected in the faces of Bo and the others at the campfire.

  Nero proudly declared, "So it was up to me, Nero the Sniper of the Ursus Tribe, to save the day! I took my shot, drawing my arrows perfectly hitting the enemy in the blind spot on his back. Taking down the fearsome Mantle owner in one fell swoop."

  All the members were struck with awe by Nero's heroic feat.

  Regretfully, Nero added, "It's unfortunate that I can't share more battle stories with you kids. Over the years our numbers have trickled down steadily. And now we're down to just seven members in our Tribe. With such numbers, we can't take on any formidable foes. It's hard to believe that we were one of the strongest tribes in the world so long ago."

  Everyone around the campfire's heads tilted down facing the reality of the state of the Ursus Tribe. However, Bo, ever so optimistic, became a beacon of light. He jumped up and exclaimed,

  "Quit with the worrying, won't you! We're not done yet, we still have battles to fight! Because when I'm older, I, Bo, will revive the Ursus Tribe's name and become the King of the Conquerors!"

  Both Nero and the kids looked at Bo with raised eyes. Nero seemed unenthused by his statements, attempting to temper Bo's energetic manner. "Okay... Let's calm down now. Here you go spouting out your silly dreams once again. Bo, I think you fail to understand that to become the King of the Conquerors, you have to rise above all. Meaning you must be greater than every man, every warrior, and every King in this world!"

  Undeterred, Bo confidently asserted, "If that's what it takes, then I will become the greatest King the world has ever seen. And rise above all!"

  The two other members jumped to their feet standing alongside Bo. One was around 5'6, with short spiky black hair, and his eyes were lime green. He was shirtless and carried two swords on his hip. This child was Leif.

  The other kid was much smaller than Bo and Leif standing at 5'2, with a dirty blonde and messy bowl cut. What stood out on him was his goggles. They looked more like glasses but were thick around the circles. This kid was Kirby.

  Both the boys were about the same age as Bo, being preteens.

  Together, tagging along with Bo's optimism, the two declared, "Yeah, Bo is right. We're gonna become great warriors too!"

  Overhearing the conversation, a girl had been stepping closer and walked in on the three boys and Nero at the campfire. She seemed to be around the same age as the rest of the boys, she stood about 5'7 with long and brown messy hair, had awfully pale skin, and her eyes appeared dead. Along her waist was a strap of gildawn knives, each one with completely different shapes and sizes. This girl's name was Eira.

  Standing just next to the campfire she abruptly interrupted the boys' celebration and Nero's story, accusing Nero of spinning a tall tale. "Nero, you gonna tell these guys such a false story?"

  "A respected warrior like me would never need to tell such a lie," he bluffed in response.

  However, Eira rebutted, "Right... well, unlike the rest of you, I've been to the battlefields from a pretty young age, and I fought alongside Nero, and during that particular encounter, the man that stands in front you guys abandoned the battlefield, fleeing like a coward with a ten-year-old me. Isn't that right, Nero?"

  The boys' jaws were on the floor. Leaving the room in a state of disbelief, Eira walked off, stating, "You guys can keep listening to his lies if you like, but you should keep in mind that more than any time ever, our tribe has to face the truth now.... There's food I left in the hut if you all would like, but only come if you plan on speaking the truth about our tribe."

  Seeking confirmation, the three boys asked, "This isn't true, right, Nero?" However, Nero seemingly couldn't muster up a sentence to deny Eira's claims.

  Both Bo and Leif could only be left in disappointment as they left the campfire. "Really lame of you, Nero." "I should have known it was a lie." The two boys shamed him on their way out as they smelled the tempting aroma of food inside the nearby hut. However, Kirby, still being supportive, told him, "Hey, I still think your stories are cool, even if it may be a folk tale."

  "You really think so?" Nero sniffled and raised his head to Kirby. But as Kirby watched both Bo and Leif sprinting away from the campfire for food, he couldn't help but follow along in his curiosity, leaving Nero alone with a campfire of his shame. As he sat alone, he was left with those lingering words of Eira, "The truth, huh... I guess she's right. It's time to face the truth about the state of the Ursus Tribe."

  The four kids, Bo, Kirby, Leif, and Eira, sat around a table inside the hut. On the table was a display of desired meats and an abundance of vegetables. The kids had already begun feasting on the plethora of food provided.

  As they all ate, there was a lingering awkward feeling in the room. It seemed as if something needed to be addressed among the four kids. Finally breaking the quietness, Eira spoke her mind. "You know, despite his false tales, there is one true thing that Nero said back there. Now that we've fallen to only seven members over the past year, the stories have run dry. We can't do anything with these numbers."

  The room remained anxiously quiet as everyone stopped eating. What had previously felt like awkward silence had been proven to be the reaction to a harsh reality. In the back of everyone's mind, this reality had already been thought upon long before Eira brought light to it.

  Everyone's heads were staring directly at the floor. Perhaps it was anger or despair. Regardless, the room had now been shrouded in tension. Among the four kids, Bo had been clenching his fist tightly.

  "So what now? We just lay here in this hut until we die?" Bo muttered.

  "Well, I wouldn't go that far... but maybe we moved too soon. That story Nero told wasn't too long ago. It was just a few years back in the Outlands, right before the king had decided we would make a push to leave the continent. Even back then, we had a couple thousand survivors left. Now look at us. Perhaps the king made the wrong decision."

  Bo stood up, wiping his arm across the dining table and pushing aside all the food that lay in front of him. "Don't say that! My brother didn't make a mistake! For over 240 years, our tribe's numbers had been steadily dropping in that savage continent. Even our ancestors couldn't stop that. If we stayed any longer, we would be dead by now!"

  "And how much more does seven mean to zero?" Eira rebutted, leaving the entire room stunned. Bo couldn't even muster a word. Her tone was calm, yet the urgency was evident in her words.

  "In the past year alone, our tribe's numbers have shrunk to a number bordering extinction, and all of us have felt the damage of that result. Right now, what we need is consistency. If the king thought guiding us into a deep path of death for the last year was the right idea, fine then. But to lead us out of the continent and leave us here in the middle of this giant forest with no guide, no idea, no clue on what he has planned or what he's doing throws everything we've struggled for this last year away."

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Bo was bewildered. From his view, he couldn't comprehend the thought of his brother being wrong. "You're... you're wrong. He wouldn't leave us for dead. He's the king. He's my brother!" He slammed his hand on the table, leaning his face closer to Eira, his confusion turning into an outburst of frustration.

  "Oh right, then where is he? You would know, right, Bo? Come on, tell us. Where is the king? Where is your brother? Where is Bjorn?" she rebutted.

  He couldn't reply, nor could he come to terms with the harsh reality of Eira's words. He could only stand across the table from her, frozen as if he were a statue.

  Realizing the peak of the argument had ended, Kirby finally felt the need to step in cautiously. "Please, I don't like seeing us argue like this, Eira, Bo." The two hardly even processed Kirby's words. Recognizing the lack of care for Kirby's plea, Leif grabbed Bo and began marching with him on their way outside. "Come on, Kirby, let's get the hell out of this mess!" he yelled. Following the two, Kirby trailed his way out of the room, leaving Eira to herself.

  Nearby the camp, just barely into the deep forest, the three boys Bo, Leif, and Kirby had decided to calm themselves after the heated confrontation that had just taken place.

  After marching into the forest, Leif tossed a wooden sword towards Bo. Both Bo and Kirby were left confused as to what Leif was implying. "Come on, spar with me! Let's forget about whatever just happened with you and Eira."

  Bo dismissively responded, "Nah, I'm better off."

  "Ah, come on. One little argument and you can't fight anymore, huh? I didn't know being a coward comes with the title 'brother of the king!'" Leif was reluctant despite Bo's unenthused attitude.

  Being adamant, Bo disregarded everything. "Try whatever you want. I'm not sparring today."

  He took a seat on a nearby rock to reflect. However, just before he could give himself any time to get comfortable, Leif picked up the same wooden sword that was tossed toward him earlier and used it to smack him across the face.

  Collapsing with Bo to the ground, both Bo and Kirby were startled by Leif's unhinged actions. "Why would you do that, Leif!?" Kirby gasped.

  Spitting blood while holding his right cheek, Bo looked up at Leif with spirited eyes, replying, "You just keep persisting. A fight is what you want? Fine then. Keep the sword; I won't need it."

  "You cocky bastard," Leif grinned deviously.

  For the next several hours, the two boys sparred until the sun blazed, with Kirby watching on the side. Ducking his head under Leif's incoming sword, Bo kicked him in the legs, causing what looked like an already beaten-up Leif to collapse to the floor. Leif's body was completely swollen, yet his daring grin remained.

  "That's your 42nd loss in a row now. I think that's enough sparring for the day," Bo stated, looking down at Leif's swollen body.

  "Bo's right. The sun's about to fall anytime now," Kirby added.

  Being reluctant, Leif implored one more time, "Ah, come on. One more fight, won't ya? It might not look like it, but I still got some fight in me!"

  Bo and Kirby glanced at one another, startled and confused, both simultaneously thinking, "Is he serious?"

  Putting an end to the antics, Bo replied, "Listen, I thank you for helping me get my mind away from me and Eira's argument earlier, but at this point, sparring any longer would just be a waste of time. I'm going..."

  He began walking back to the camp. However, just before Bo was too far away, Leif mustered up his last strands of energy, rising to his feet. Coming to help hold him up, Kirby gave him a shoulder to lean on. Leif was panting and spoke with a sense of urgency. "You're finally realizing now, huh? All these spars we have are just one big waste of time! Ya know, Bo, you might not want to hear it, but what Eira said was right!"

  Bo's footsteps came to a halt, intrigued by what Leif was trying to say. Along with Bo's halt, Kirby's eyes opened in worry for the words Leif was about to utter.

  "It's time we start accepting the reality of our tribe and stop waiting for your stupid brother to control our every move! You see, Bo, you're not the only one with big dreams of becoming something. I do too, and I'm sure Kirby does as well, and maybe even that grumpy bastard Eira too." Staring into his sword, he spoke with conviction, "And I know one thing that's for sure: waiting here in these good-for-nothing woods won't do anything about it. Sooner than you think, Bo, these dreams that we want to live, we're going to have to go out there and achieve them, you hear me? We don't have our entire lives to waste here anymore!"

  Absorbing every word Leif had let off, Bo picked his footsteps back up and began marching even quicker to the camp.

  Returning to the camp, it had finally hit sundown, and at the peak of night, the Ursus Tribe had all fallen asleep, with Bo being the exception.

  After the confrontations and constant back-and-forths with Leif and Eira throughout the day, his mind couldn't let him rest, even in the comfort of his bed. He could only keep remembering the words both Eira and Leif left him with: "Where is Bjorn?" "Sooner than you think, Bo, these dreams that we want to live, we're going to have to go out there and achieve them."

  He was conflicted. Though he was unwilling to accept those harsh words at the moment, deep down he knew they spoke the truth. He reflected, "Bjorn has no choice but to come back, so he will. But if he doesn't..." His eyes widened. "Am I worthy enough... to become a king?" He began to curl himself into a ball on his bed and constantly repeated, "He'll come back, he'll come back, he'll come back..."

  The Next Morning

  Bo was still stuck in bed. However, eventually, over that dreadful night, he was finally knocked out and fell into a deep sleep. With footsteps rushing quickly into his room, Kirby tugged at Bo's shirt, rocking him back and forth as he urged him to wake up. "Hurry, Bo! Come on!" he kept bugging.

  Forcing Bo to wake from his sleep, he slowly opened his eyes and saw the joyful urgency in Kirby's eyes. He asked, "What's the rush?"

  "You were right, Bo! Your brother, the king... he's back!"

  "...What?" Bo replied with squinted eyes.

  The news was an immediate shock. Struggling to process what he had been told, Bo rubbed the morning crust from his eyes and got off his bed. Dragging him along, Kirby rushed Bo outside the hut, bursting through the front door.

  Just outside the hut was the brightening gaze of the morning sun, the harmonic rhythms of chirping birds, and Bjorn in his brown hood, with his long, straight brown hair flowing in the wind. Cloaked in his wide-straw hat, this time tilting it to the sky so everyone could see his face, he carried the same fragile slave boy who had been beaten by those five guards on his back.

  Lifting his head and showing his ocean-blue eyes, the brown-hooded man observed the four kids in front of him.

  "Bjorn!" Bo, Kirby, Leif, and Eira exclaimed exuberantly. The kids rushed him, all leaping in for a hug.

  Slightly distanced from Bjorn and the kids was Nero, walking toward a man with a cart full of food who looked strikingly similar to himself. The two stood around the same height, both with fair skin, jet-black hair, and similar facial features. However, the man styled his hair in a man bun and was shirtless, with scars across his body and a sword at his hip. Lastly, his eyes were sharp and piercing, like those of a predator. This was Nero's twin brother, Namon.

  "The king isn't the only one who came back today. Looks like your hunt went well?" Nero asked as he and his brother stood in the distance, watching the kids rekindle with the king.

  Namon vaguely acknowledged his brother's question, glancing at him briefly before looking back at the kids and the king.

  "While I was out hunting in the giant forest, I ran into him... Bjorn, that is," he stated.

  "What was he doing?" Nero asked.

  "I don't know. He was just sitting there, next to the big trees, with that same fragile boy he was carrying. The only thing I knew when I looked into his eyes was that he was tired... extremely tired," Namon answered.

  A moment of silence passed.

  Nero added, "I assume it won't be long before we find out why. A meeting between the three adults has been well overdue."

  The kids kept clinging to Bjorn, squeezing him tight. Despite the doubt everyone once had, the reassurance of their king washed it all away.

  "I told you guys! Bjorn would never leave us for dead!" Bo shouted with excitement. After hearing those words, Bjorn lifted his head and took a step back from the kids, all of them looking up into his eyes. As he glanced at the four kids once more, he spoke softly, saying each of their names: "Eira, Kirby, Leif, and my little brother Bo. I've missed you all so much." He couldn’t help but smile. However, right afterward, he tilted his head down, blankly staring at the grass. His face turned expressionless, and he walked toward the front door of the hut. Just before he could enter, he called out to the twins.

  "Namon, Nero. We need to talk."

  "Right!" The two marched over to the hut, trailing Bjorn.

  The youthful excitement of the reunion was cut short. As Bjorn walked through the door, the kids finally noticed the child piggybacking on him, leaving them puzzled. "Who is he?" they wondered in unison.

  With a tone of authority, Nero directed Bo and the other kids, "You guys go play a game of tag, won't you? This is a matter for adults." Disappointment clouded the children's faces as Nero securely closed the door of the hut, relegating them outside the meeting space.

  "What's up with those guys?" Lief questioned.

  "I'm not sure. But I'm just glad my brother is finally back, and now that our king is here, we can move forward with our plans," Bo replied.

  In the hut, as the door closed on the kids, Bjorn rushed to one of the rooms, saying, "The kid needs to rest his head," as he laid the slave boy down on one of the beds.

  Nero quickly expressed his curiosity about the boy. "About the child, who is he?"

  Taking a second to reply, Bjorn gathered his thoughts and answered, "He's a slave. I found him in a small village not too far from here. As for why he's here, I asked him if he wanted to escape, and he told me, 'More than anything in this world.'" The twins struggled to respond.

  "Now then, shall we talk?" Bjorn asked.

  The three sat down around the long table of the hut. Nero opened the conversation. "It's been some time since we've gotten together like this, hasn't it? Well, I think it's only right to ask first: Bjorn, how was your trip? Find any place to get some nice jewelry? Maybe even some lovely women?" Nero leaned in, raising an eyebrow.

  Cutting Nero off, Namon firmly asked, "Enough with the small talk. Let's get straight to it. Before you left to go on this 'trip,' you told us it would decide the future of our tribe. So now that you're here, what is it? What did you see? What is the future of our tribe, Bjorn?"

  The room’s atmosphere suddenly fell. Bjorn’s head tilted down, and his tone carried disappointment as he expressed, "It's all the same, both the Outlands and the outside world. It's all repulsive." The room was silent until Bjorn added, "It seems my apprehensions have proven true. I fear..."

  He continued, "They say over 240 years ago, the world faced a war greater than any in history, until our tribe no, our King Boad stepped in and ended it all.

  They called that war the Battle of Kalen Dale, which was the name of the Outlands at the time. A war that saw millions of lives lost, and at the peak of it all, our tribe fell victim to countless casualties as well, leading to our eventual fall from the top. However, despite the tribe's situation, our King Boad rose above the controversy of the war, and in a dying sacrifice, he ended it all.

  From those final moments, Boad became recognized as the second-ever King of the Conquerors, a god amongst men, and the one who brought peace to a world of war. In his final words before passing, he declared, 'To rise above all.'

  That is what it takes to attain the power of the King Conquerors. One man must rise above all of humanity. Ever since those words echoed across the land, the world plunged into a frenzy of power-seeking, territorial conquest, and chaos over this vague meaning he gave. 'Chaos' is the only term that fits the state of this world."

  Namon interjected sarcastically, "Thanks for the history lesson, but that's not what we asked for. What does all this history talk about our tribe determine? What are you aiming to convey?"

  Bjorn answered, "In the last month, during my journey through this foreign land, I came to understand the chaos that has ensued since Boad's death. The reaction to the death of a god... it's chaos, all the same, just like the chaos that plagues the Outlands. My explorations unveiled a world just as grim as the one we escaped."

  Namon's and Nero's eyes widened.

  Bjorn continued, "Women and children alike are enslaved and abused by warriors, like the child I brought back. Rampant land raiding, death from starvation, hopeless families desperately searching for a home the list goes on. The world is simply a mirror of the Outlands. The turmoil persists.

  The battle may be over for this tribe now, but my battles have just begun. This Ursus Tribe holds no more purpose for me and my goals. I must forge my own path."

  Namon seemed unfazed. "It was only a matter of time. So... you're leaving, aren't you?" he acknowledged calmly.

  Meanwhile, Nero grieved, tears streaming down his face. Though visibly infuriated, Namon tried to steady his emotions, muttering, "Come on... toughen up. We should have known this bastard would leave us."

  Standing near the door, Bo managed to catch snippets of the conversation inside the hut. Leif advised, "Bo, come on, let's go. What's going on in there is none of our business."

  Bo waved off Leif's words as he kept his ears peeled and lingered against the door.

  "This can't be true... right?"

  In the hut, Namon asked, "And what's your purpose for leaving us?"

  Bjorn stood to his feet and began explaining. "Every king and warrior bears a purpose for their fight. I, too, have one. I only yearn for a world where peace reigns. The unending war I've witnessed throughout my life has consumed me. What is peace? That's what I aim to uncover, regardless of the cost. And if this world cannot provide the peace I seek, then I will create it myself."

  Namon clenched his fist tightly. "Then let us help you! We made it out of the Outlands together. I'm sure we can fight any battles the outside world has to offer," he suggested.

  "No. You guys have already fought enough. And for the kids, over the past year, they've watched their tribe fall from a mere 1,000 members to an even worse seven. They may be great at hiding it, but that type of loss takes a toll no child should bear," Bjorn replied.

  Bjorn's expression turned resolute. "I'll forge this path on my own."

  Nero began sobbing, tears and snot running down his face. He questioned Bjorn, "Isn't our tribe good enough, Bjorn? We've always followed your lead, every command."

  Namon, his gaze icy, added, "This stupid dream you chase. It could even make you leave the only thing you have left. You and your little brother are the same—a pair of dream-chasing idiots."

  Amidst the turmoil, Bjorn chuckled, acknowledging Namon's insight. "You always knew me best, Namon."

  Fed up with Bjorn's decision, Namon got up, stating, "Alright. I've had enough of your nonsense. I'm getting out of here. Come on, Nero, let's leave." However, just before they could exit the room, Bo kicked the front door of the hut wide open, stomping inside.

  He was flustered, fists clenched and veins bulging, as he shouted at his brother, "You're leaving?!"

  His emotions were raw. Eira, Leif, and Kirby turned their heads to the door, their mouths agape.

  Bo stormed into the room, intensely staring into the ocean-blue eyes of Bjorn. "What are you talking about, leaving, Bjorn?!" he demanded.

  Despite Bo's visible frustration, Bjorn remained calm, insisting on his decision. "I've pondered this deeply already. The path I have ahead of me strays from that of the tribe. So I'm giving up my position. And Bo... I want you to claim the role of the new king of the Ursus Tribe."

  "Bo?"

  The declaration elicited cries of disbelief from all six members inside and outside the hut. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed, they could only stare.

  In the mind of the joyful child, who believed only in the simple ideals of his world, Bo, the brother’s king, could utter only one word:

  "Me?"