The sky was painted in shades of gray as Billa and Diyaka stood on the outskirts of the dumpsite. Thick plumes of smoke billowed into the air, carrying with them the acrid stench of burning wood and flesh.

A most disturbing way of disposing of a bloodline of royalty.

A few days had passed since the horrific events of the morning after Ashrei, and everyone was living and walking in absolute fear, frightened at the prospect of putting one foot wrong in the sight of their new lord. His bandits patrolled the streets day and night, ready to unleash extreme punishment on anyone who went wrong.

So far, nobody else had been killed since the gory takedown of Mr. Azibo and those other guys. But as the days rolled by, that fear of sudden death remained deep in the bosoms of everyone. Dreck was clearly a deranged being, and there was no telling what he would do.

It had been whispered that he and his bandits had disposed of the bodies of Karomo, Marenah and Chika in the dumpsite on the outskirts of town. Billa, who had spent the next couple of days struggling to comprehend this new reality, asked his brother to take him there. In spite of his concerns about dealing with the cruel bandits, Diyaka took one look at his brother’s face and knew he wouldn’t be okay until he made his way there.

So there they were, standing a distance away from the pit where the fire blazed. Assaulted by the awful smell of burning flesh.

Coming to the realization that indeed, this was no dream.

King Karomo, Queen Marenah and their friend Prince Chika was dead. And in the place of the humble, benevolent monarch sat an embodiment of evil in its purest form.

This was too much to comprehend. Far too much to comprehend.

Soaked in tears, Billa was on his knees, gazing sorrowfully at the flames.

Mental images of a smiling Chika in his mind. That evergreen smile and teen innocence his bosom buddy carried with him.

A smile and innocence he’d never, ever see again, as his corpse, along with that of his father and mother, burned in the furnace set below them.

How could this be? They had been happily chatting the previous day, looking forward to what the future held for their dear village. Now Chika and his father were dead, and all Billa had was memories. Memories of a special bond he shared with this bosom buddy of his.

Crying bitterly, he looked at his brother, who looked on forlornly at the fire in the pit.

“I can’t believe he’s gone, Diyaka. I just can’t.”

Diyaka, lost for words, simply placed a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder, his face bearing the weight of the tragedy that had befallen their village.

“I know, Billa. We’ve lost so much… Our best friend and the royal family we admired. They’re all gone. Just like that. I… I can’t believe it.”

Turning back to the furnace before them, Billa sobbed a bit more, broken by this reality.

“Chika always said… he said that we… we would grow up together… he-he-he told me he would make me an elder one day… and that… and that we’d rule this land together. Now… none of that will happen.

“And-and the King… he’d sometimes come out… and… and he’d talk to us. He was kind, Diyaka, and he’d listen to our stories… tell us stories… I just can’t believe this. I just canntttt!”

His struggled attempt to remember his dear friend and father failing him, Billa keeled over in grief, crying loudly.

His own eyes brimming with tears, Diyaka could only pat his mourning brother on the back, whispering weak ‘its all right’ and ‘its okay’ to him as he bawled pitifully.

Not many people were as struck by this tragedy as Billa. Chika had been his best friend from childhood; they had literally played together as toddlers. Growing up, they had shared so many special times together. Tasting the Ashrei lamb stew for the first time together. Watching those peacocks Elaf and Ankl grow into big, beautiful birds. Dancing together at the opening procession.

So many memories.

Now, as they stood there, that was all Billa had. Those memories. The chance to make many more had been cruelly quenched.

Oh, the tragedy!

A few minutes of intense bawling, and they now turned to sobs.

“What’s going to happen to us now, Diyaka? What will become of Mandeland?” Billa asked, turning to his brother, despair in his eyes.

Diyaka shook his head and shrugged sadly. As far as the fate of their village was concerned, he was every bit as clueless as his younger brother. “I don’t know, Billa. I really don’t know. I wish I had an answer, but… I just don’t know. Dreck is just so powerful, with all those unruly men around him. I have no idea how we’re getting through this…”

Suddenly, a cold breeze blew through the dumpsite, carrying the acrid scent of burning refuse. In that chilling moment, Diyaka suddenly tensed up.

Drifting off, he looked at the sun.

It was slowly descending toward the horizon.

Then it dawned on him.

Oh my goodness! The curfew! How could we have forgotten??

One of the many rules imposed by Dreck was a curfew, which was to begin once the sun dropped below the horizon. The bandits, as you would expect, were strictly enforcing this, and being caught outside after sunset could lead to dire consequences.

And considering how the sun was making its way out, they were slowly putting themselves at risk remaining there any longer. They had to get home as quickly as possible.

Billa, we need to leave, now!” Diyaka urgently stated.

“Wh-what?” Billa wondered, looking confused by the sudden sense of urgency from his brother.

“The curfew, brother, the curfew! The sun’s setting. We need to leave. Now!”

The mention of ‘curfew’ triggered the alarm bells in Billa’s brain. His moment of sorrow suddenly had to take a backseat, and adrenaline took over.

“Oh my goodness, you’re right!” he blurted out, quickly wiping his eyes. “We need to go before one of his bandits catch us!”

“Exactly! Let’s move!”

They immediately sprinted away, leaving the sorrowful sight behind as fast as they could.

***

Five minutes had passed, and they were yet to reach home. Thanks to Diyaka’s knowledge of hidden shortcuts and backstreets, however, they had managed to navigate through the village quickly, avoiding the main roads patrolled by the menacing bandits.

Now they had to cross this last wide road.

As they stood at the edge of a dimly lit street, their hearts pounded with tension as they observed what was ahead of them. Home was just on the other side, but between them and safety lay the perilous task of crossing the street before the curfew bell tolled. The sun was halfway down, and the bells signifying the start of curfew would chime at any time.

They peered down the empty street, scanning for any sign of the ruthless bandits who roam the village enforcing curfew.

Thankfully, there were none.

But any of them could pop out at any time. That was the fear that ran through their hearts as they stood there. What if one just popped out of nowhere and pounced on them?

Neither opened his mouth to express so, but they both knew that was the thought running through their minds.

A few seconds of heavy breathing, then Billa murmured.

“We just need to get on with it. This fear will kill us before we know it.”

Diyaka nodded. “You’re right. The longer we stand here, the worse trouble we put ourselves in. Let’s get moving… on my count… 1…2…3!”

On the third count, the brothers broke out of their hold of fear and sprinted across the road, making a straight beeline for the lane leading to their house.

Relief coursed through their veins as they arrived quickly on the lane. Indeed, there were no bandits around. They were safe.

Just as they reached their doorstep and turned the doorknob…

…a pair of bandits turned the corner onto the street, their torches flickering ominously on the road.

Their hearts leaping straight into their mouths, they pushed themselves in and closed the door immediately.

The bells chimed at the exact moment the door was shut.

They had done it! They had managed to beat the curfew and get home unscathed. What a relief!

“We made it! We made it!” Billa gasped triumphantly, out of breath.

“Yes, we did! Oh thank goodness!” Diyaka agreed.

“Boys?”

Ubar and Tabani entered the living room, their faces etched with worry and displeasure.

“Where were you boys?” Ubar demanded. “And how could you keep so long? Don’t you remember ther-“

“HEY! HEY!”

That piercing shout cut him short, and immediately struck everyone with pangs of terror.

The shout was coming from outside.

Crouching down, Ubar and Tabani crept toward the window on the left side of the living room, near to where the boys had crashed onto the floor. Billa and Diyaka also moved toward the window and peered outside to see what was happening.

Bone-chilling shivers ran down everyone’s spine as they witness the terrifying scene ongoing.

A group of the bandits surrounding a hapless villager who appeared to have been caught by the curfew.

“You thought you could sneak around after curfew, did you?” one of the bandits sneered.

The villager, a young man probably about the same age as Diyaka, trembled uncontrollably. “I-I-I-I didn’t mean to. I-I-I just got c-c-caught up at the… at the market.”

The bandits roared with scornful laughter.

“Caught up, eh? You were caught up, eh? Well, guess what, pipsqueak? You’re caught now.”

They all watched in terror as the bandits seized the young man, their faces contorted with malice, and dragged him off, ignoring his pitiful cries for mercy.

Shaking with utmost fright, Billa and Diyaka looked at each other.

They might have just escaped getting caught by the skin of their teeth, but the terror still remained. They could sleep in safety for tonight, but there was no respite. Lord Dreck and his men were still as active as ever, and until something divine or miraculous came up, the threat of destruction remained as glaring as ever.

Boy, they sure were lucky to have made it home before those bandits showed up! It’s terror out there. Horrific, unrelentless terror…