Evening had arrived.

In a dimly lit, underground hideout somewhere in the village, a group of men sat around a makeshift table.  The flickering candlelight cast deep shadows on their faces, each one bearing the weight of loss and vengeance.

These were villagers of Mandeland. A diverse group, made up of farmers, craftsmen, former guards and market men. All united by a myriad of emotions.

Pain. Anger.

And the burning desire for justice.

Chief among them was Ubar.

As he leaned forward, ready to speak, his reddened eyes burned with determination, his grief and anger propelling him.

He was not a man who one would find shedding tears; his weathered but hearty demeanour meant you’d be more likely to see him in a joyful or livid mood, but never in a pool of tears.

However, the sight that met him when he returned from the farm that afternoon. That sight of Diyaka and Billa sitting on the grass of their backyard, weeping profusely, with a damaged fence, crushed flowers, and most crucially, the conspicuous absence of his wife…

He fell to his knees, already aware of what had happened, and let out a gut-wrenching wail.

This was just too much to bear. His dear wife, his life partner. Dragged off by those heartless brutes to what he knew was a painful and agonizing end.

Now as he sat there, a flaming bundle of rage and sorrow, there was only one thing he wanted.

Justice.

“Enough is enough! We can no longer allow Lord Dreck and his band of murderers to roam these streets and kill us indiscriminately!” Ubar declared loudly, his voice tinged with resolve. “They’ve done enough! They’ve wrecked our homes, destroyed our fields, murdered our families… all for their sick entertainment!”

“Yes, it’s true,” one other gentleman commented. “After seizing my wife for simply standing outside, they went ahead to set fire to our garden. Now our house is destroyed.”

“They killed my son when he was out in the fields gathering wheat,” another man added mournfully. “Stormed the fields and just started shooting arrows indiscriminately. My poor Kadose got struck in the neck.”

As others shared stories of their personal losses, it couldn’t be more clear that this regime had dealt them all a cruel blow.

“Indeed, my fellow gentlemen, these monsters have unleashed unspeakable atrocities on us, but enough is enough! We won’t take it anymore! We will not bow down and kowtow to their tyranny any longer.”

The men around the table nodded in solemn agreement, resolute determination printed on their faces.

“We need a plan,” Ubar continued, his gaze locking with each man’s. “We must find a way to strike at the heart of Lord Dreck’s power and free our village from his grip. And that is why we’re here. My sons will be here soon so they can join in, but in the meantime, we need to brainstorm on what can be done. So, any ideas?”

A hand was raised. It was Ratin, a former guard. “So, after you called for this meeting, there was this strategy I thought I should suggest to you all…”

As the man outlined their strategy, Ubar and the other men leaned in, nodding in agreement and offering their own insights. The atmosphere was thick with a sense of purpose, each one believing that with a bit of meticulous planning, they could finally bring an end to Lord Dreck’s tyranny.

Unbeknownst to them, however, their words were not as secret as they thought.

Just outside, hidden in the shadows of the trees, two curious bandits had stumbled upon their underground refuge. Drawn by the flickering light and hushed voices, the bandits crept closer, their ears catching every word.

***

Diyaka knelt beside Billa, carefully tending to the wound on his leg. Dabbing the cotton wool in the poultice mixture he had attempted making, he then cleaned it gently over the wound.

Billa watched him silently, seeing how the flickering candlelight revealed the tears that had welled up in Diyaka’s eyes, glistening with a mixture of pain and sorrow. The room seemed to echo with the void left behind by their mother’s obvious passing.

Billa, though normally the more emotional of the two, could see how hard this had hit Diyaka. Aside from the sorrow of losing their mother, he could tell he also felt incredibly guilty about not being able to fight off those bandits.

Of course, considering how powerful those men were, no one could fault him. His swollen face was enough testament that he tried his best.

But as he watched him, he recognized the need to support his older brother during this difficult time. The stronger of the two needed to be upheld.

He watched Diyaka’s face, seeing the weight of grief and responsibility etched across his features. He reached out and gently placed a hand on Diyaka’s shoulder.

“Diyaka,” Billa began gently, his voice trembling with emotion, “I know you miss her too. We both do.”

Diyaka looked up, his eyes meeting Billa’s, and nodded silently. There were no words that could adequately express the depth of their shared loss.

“I know you feel guilty about it,” he continued. “But please, don’t. I beg you. You did what you could. Nobody can point a finger at you and say you didn’t do enough. Nobody. Not even Father has anything against you. So please, hold your head up.”

Diyaka’s lips quivered, but he managed a weak smile and nodded lightly. “Sure,” he said quietly. “I’ll do my best.”

Billa squeezed his shoulder before letting it go. “Father is waiting for us at the secret meeting. He needs us, just like we need each other. Let’s keep moving, alright?”

Diyaka’s morose expression cleared up somewhat. He nodded and wiped his eyes with his elbow. “Sure, brother, sure. You’re right. At least we can join him and see how best we can deal with this menace.”

“Indeed. It’s becoming too much now. We need to fight back. All hands on deck. Now, let’s deal with this little wound and get moving.”

***

“Please tell Elders Soayi and Sakisor we wish to see them. We have some news for them.”

The bandit in front of the elders’ room smirked at Oren. “Soayi’s favourite boy,” he quipped before entering the room. Oren looked at his fellow bandit, Mealor, and shook his head. All the bandits knew how close he was to Soayi and teased him from time to time.

Moments later, Soayi and Sakisor, cloaked in dark robes that seemed to blend with the shadows, appeared from the room. Sakisor, the more enigmatic and stern-faced figure with a commanding presence, greeted Oren and Kael with a simple nod.

Soayi, upon seeing Oren, greeted them with a smile. “Oren! Maelor! Fancy having you lads come around here.”

Oren laughed slightly. “Yes, Elders. Umm… there’s something we noticed on our patrol, and we thought we’d come and inform you.”

Sakisor, the embodiment of seriousness, questioned, “What news do you bring?”

Oren wasted no time getting to the heart of the matter. “Mealor and I chanced upon a secret meeting a few minutes ago. Some of the men of Mandeland are plotting against Lord Dreck. They are currently planning to gather a sizable force of their own and fight against us.”

Sakisor’s eyes narrowed as he absorbed the news. “Rebels? This is concerning. We cannot allow them to threaten Lord Dreck’s dominion.”

Soayi nodded in agreement. “We must pay these rebels a visit and deal with them swiftly.”

Nodding, Oren continued, “The meeting is ongoing right now, in some underground room not too far from the bakery. We have the advantage of surprise, and if we act decisively, we can quell this rebellion before it gains any proper momentum.”

Sakisor’s face hardened with determination. “Then it is decided. We shall visit these rebels and ensure that Lord Dreck’s reign remains unchallenged.”

Soayi nodded in agreement. “We must act swiftly and without hesitation. Let’s go!”

***

“Getting spies to go to Karasia? Won’t that be too long? It takes almost three days to arrive there, you know!”

“Well, it’s a lot better than thinking of capturing one of the bandits and forcing them to turn on Lord Dreck, sir. I can’t believe you think that’s a possibility to begin with!”

Ubar sighed as the argument between Ratin and Kadose’s father raged on. The discussion had been evolving nicely until the two opinions had been raised by either party, and for the next five minutes, they engaged in a little splat.

The other men around the table looked just as unamused as Ubar, observing the duo continue to go at each other.

Finally, one of them banged a fist on the table. “Enough, men!”

The two quarreling parties halted.

“Get yourselves together, gentlemen! This isn’t the time for these petty arguments. There’s a village we need to save! End this now and let’s get back on track. Please!”

Ratin and Kadose’s father lowered their heads, feeling embarrassed as the pettiness of their quarrel dawned on them. This was no elementary competition, this was a matter of life and death. Their village needed them to step in and save them, not throw words at each other.

They turned to Ubar, who was still on his feet. “Sorry, Ubar,” they mumbled humbly.

Ubar nodded. But before he could respond, a sudden knock echoed through the cabin. He glanced at the door, momentarily distracted.

“Maybe your sons have arrived?” one of the men asked, hope shining in his eyes.

“Oh, of course!” Ubar’s heart leaped with anticipation as he moved from his chair and made his way to the door. Good thing they were in; surely their youthfulness would be a vital cog in this plan to take down the despot tormenting their lives.

He grabbed the doorknob and turned it.

He pulled the door open.

“Good you’re her-“

The next thing he saw…

… the tip of an arrowhead speeding towards his eyes.

***

Diyaka and Billa crouched low in the dense underbrush, their hearts pounding like frantic drums in their chests. They watched in horror as a group of Lord Dreck’s bandits emerged from the underground meeting place.

Their clothes were stained with blood, their faces were obscured by shadows and dark masks.

And even worse, they carried a gruesome trophy that sent shivers down the spines of the boys —a lifeless head, its eyes staring blankly into the night.

“No… no, please, no,” Billa whimpered. “Please, no, please… this can’t be… this can’t be…”

Diyaka clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle a gasp of horror, his eyes wide with disbelief and despair. He couldn’t bring himself to voice the dreadful reality that was staring them in the face.

Lord Dreck’s bandits had somehow discovered the plan. And they had moved swiftly to deal with all the men in there.

Every single one of them.

Including their father.

Billa began to cry. “Nooo! This can’t be! Please, tell me this isn’t happening!” he began to wail. “We just lost Mother. Father can’t be gone too. Please! Please! Pleeeeease!”

Diyaka remained mute, shock and grief silencing him.

In that moment, the brothers couldn’t have felt more hopeless and despondent. In the twinkle of an eye, the ones most dear to them were gone. Just like that.

They truly could not have felt more hopeless.

Sigh, honestly, nobody can catch a break in Mandeland. Dreck and his people are always a step ahead. What are they gonna do? Is there any hope?