AMARA ZENDARA

The Birth of Amara Zendara
Written and created by Alexander Keller
Zendara Entertainment LLC
Copyright 2025

Cast of Characters

1. Young Prince Elias: (Protagonist) The Father of Zendara and the next king. A brave and social young man
   
2. King Jaheim: Prince Elias’s a Father and the current king . Still heartbroken from the loss of his Queen, Risa
   
3. Queen Amara Riser: Prince Elias’s mother and queen to King Jaheim. Trapped in limbo, protected only by the Auralite crystal amulet.
   
4. Shakina: The mother of Zendara and sister to Saba is a beautiful young maiden that captures Elias’s heart. Who eventually becomes Queen.
   
5. Saba: Sister of Shekinah, love interest of Valdamere VanHeck. Who is very strong minded, highly educated and quick with her words.
   
6. Raiten :(Antagonist) The great aunt of Amara Zendara. Is possessed by the sisters to do their bidding, and she does it well.
   
7. Baron VanHeck: (Antagonist) Ship’s captain of the Errin and stepfather to Valdemar. Rotten to the core. He holds money and power above human life.
   
8. Valdemir VanHeck: The adopted son of the Baron. A good hearted young man with a promising future, until a twist of fate changes his destiny.
   
9. Dagger: A loving ferret companion to Valdemar and Saba.
   
10. Taulie and Shorty: (comic relief) Two loyal sailors on the Baron’s ship. Always getting into trouble with the Baron, but somehow surviving through it.
    
11. Sherman the shaman: Our eternal prophet who protects Prince Elias and eventually Amara Zendara, through spiritual and magical journeys he defines their future and their final outcome.

Featured items, Signs, and Territory

1. The Errin: The Baron’s ship.
2. Valley of the kings: (Amara‘s world)
3. Port town: Featured as an old shipping town, the main artery from foreign lands for
   merchandise and goods. Constantly active.
4. Kingdom City Province: The city ruled by King Elias and his family.
5. Royal palace: Kingdom of Elias and the royal family.
6. North region: The higher elevation of the valley of the Kings. (Close to the mountain of the
   moon)
7. Chiefs village: Ancient villages of the north region. (Close to the mountain of the moon)
8. Hut on the hill (Soul survivors home)
9. Abandon village (Ghostly rainforest village)

Chapters
Chapter 1. The Millennium Games
Chapter 2. The Mighty Errin
Chapter 3. Port town
Chapter 4. A ship of secrets
Chapter 5. Hidden within the shadows
Chapter 6. A Captain’s Journal
Chapter 7. Brenden’s Loyalty
Chapter 8. Redemption
Chapter 9. The Baron
Chapter 10. Valdemar Meets Saba
Chapter 11. A Fist of Magic
Chapter 12. Kingdom City
Chapter 13. The Hall of Champions
Chapter 14. Saba’s Heart
Chapter 15. Sinister Ear’s
Chapter 16. King Jaheim’s Truth
Chapter 17. Colorful Beads
Chapter 18. Off The Beaten Path
Chapter 19. Kimmo Fighting Stick
Chapter 20. Essence of Zendara
Chapter 21. Got It in a Dream
Chapter 22. The Young Maiden
Chapter 23. Pretty Penny
Chapter 24. Map on Deck
Chapter 25. The Baron’s Attention
Chapter 26. The Ink
Chapter 27. The Vow
Chapter 28. Dagger’s Fears
Chapter 29. With a Heavy Hand
Chapter 30. The Word of a Chief
Chapter 31. Nice Guys
Chapter 32. Shaman’s Shoe
Chapter 33. Golden Timepiece
Chapter 34. The Chase
Chapter 35. Knuckleheads
Chapter 36. The Hut on the Hill
Chapter 37. The Catfish
Chapter 38. Fathead
Chapter 39. Lone Survivor
Chapter 40. The Whiskers
Chapter 41. Fiendish Plan
Chapter 42. The Kidnapping of Saba
Chapter 43. The Abandoned Villages
Chapter 44. Face to Face
Chapter 45. A Better Scenario
Chapter 46. Valdemar’s Legacy
Chapter 47. Dagger
Chapter 48. Queen Amara Riser
Chapter 49. The Great Fire
Chapter 50. Chaos
Chapter 51. Elias’s Dirty Face
Chapter 52. Seaworthy
Chapter 53. Never Be the Same
Chapter 54. Dagger’s Broken Heart
Chapter 55. Search for Saba
Chapter 56. Elias Awakens
Chapter 57. The Promise
Chapter 58. Lost in Time
Chapter 59. Elias and the Three Horatio’s
Chapter 60. The Return of Raiten
Chapter 61. The Curse
Chapter 62. Elias the Hero
Chapter 63. The Eyes of a Child
Chapter 64. A Mother’s Truth
Chapter 65. A World Turned Upside Down
Chapter 66. The Coin
Chapter 67. Demand Answers
Chapter 68. Verdict of the Gods
Chapter 69. The Birth of Zendara

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Narrator’s comments

The following characters within these chapters will reveal their epic emotional journey
of love and adventure. They must go through these following events for Amara
Zandara’s birth to take place, and eventually fulfill the prophecy.

Prologue

Centuries have passed without the birth of a female child bearing the blood of a king.
Wars between the kingdom and the barbarian warlords have persisted, yet the kingdom
has always emerged victorious. Kendra’s plan succeeded, leading her people to a state of
stability and creating a vibrant society. Barter and trade became a way of life. A Port
town was established, allowing coastal ships to transport cargo from around the world.

Sherman the Wise, the last of his kind and the only link to the imprisoned spiritual
prophets, has blended into the social fabric of the kingdom. He runs a small bookstore
filled with magic, mysteries, and ancient artifacts. Still in possession of the spearhead
and the kimmo stick of Raiten, he has determined their place in history. Sherman waits
patiently for the prophecy foretold to him.

The four prophets, still trapped in captivity, have argued among themselves for
thousands of years, blaming one another for their imprisonment. The plateau of the
temples atop the Mountain of the Moons is now referred to as the Ancient Ruins, still
considered a bewitched place. The Auralite crystal amulet, with its hidden powers, has
been passed down as a family heirloom from queen to queen, serving as a good luck
charm for fertility and protecting the unborn bloodline.

The Sisters of Illusion continue to watch from the shadows, waiting for the chance to
break free from their curse, fixated on their underground garden. Raiten’s tortured soul,
caught in a bottle, resides on the Sisters’ shelf, longing for release. Raiten has fulfilled
her wicked purpose through the centuries, aided by her three mindless disciples. She
collects aimless souls who have lost their purpose, trapping them in a barrier of mist
that also confines her.

A new age is upon us, heralded by a young prince who is soon to be crowned king. He
brings fresh ideas and a different perspective on the laws.

Book two: The birth of Zendara

Chapter: 1
The Millennium games

Our story opens in the Valley of the Kings, the Kingdom City province behind the Royal
palace. This is where a traditional African tournament was on its last day of the
tri-annual competition. Being the first year of a new century, the Millennium Games
took on a significant meaning this year. The kingdom had set up different arenas where athletic gladiators from all villages could specifically compete for different
championships. Spectators filled the main stadium as they prepared to view today’s
finals. The crowds were made up of loyal followers from the furthest point of the
kingdom, coming to support the chosen athletes representing their tribe. Today’s
competition was the most popular, one-on-one Kimmo stick combat. (Kalinda,
African-style stick fighting) The championship is on the line as they are down to the last
two competitors. King Jaheim and his staff had their usual designated seating, but today was a very special day for the King. His son, Prince Elias was in the finals. The crowd is
electrified with anticipation for the two champions to enter the arena. The fighting arena
is enclosed by a 3-foot barrier wall made of heavy bales of hay. The surface of the arena
is soft matte down dirt, which allows the Warriors to move quickly and absorb the
impact of take down. The two warriors enter the circular arena as the crowd erupts.
Both warriors wear African traditional dashiki fighting shorts and are shirtless. They
have wrapped themselves temporarily in the flag which represents their tribe. The two
warriors prepare to face off. One competitor was very large, with his hair cut short,
powerfully built. He held an oversized but thick Kimmo fighting stick which balanced
his stature. The second competitor was the son of the king, Prince Elias. Elias was a
medium size man, with tied-back long dreads and a leaner muscular athletic physique,
he carried a Kimmo fighting stick that was much thinner, more adapted for speed and
appropriate for his height and weight. This competition resembled the great battle
between David and Goliath. The referee references the two warriors to come to the
center of the ring where their size difference becomes apparent. They respectfully bow to
each other and back away. They flip off their flags and hand them to their assistants. The
referee raises his arm and with a quick downward swipe, the competition commences.
Trying to end the competition quickly, the larger warrior furiously attacks first. Elias is
very agile and can dodge most of the blows. But when contact is made, a mighty crash
comes down on Elias’s stick pushing him backward and making the crowd gasp. The
battle intensifies with action, as the two gladiators continue to aggressively attack each
other stick to stick. To win the competition one man must be knocked off his feet or any
part of his body that touches the ground for the winner to claim victory. The larger
opponent swings his stick fully extended at Elias, to dodge this would be impossible.
With his athleticism, Elias allows him to lean back on his two feet as his knees bend
backward and his head falls back to his lower body. An incredibly flexible stretch as his
head almost made contact with the ground within inches. The oversight stick whistles
just above his face. Becoming fatigued, the larger opponent is looking to end the
competition with one mighty blow. Rearing back with all his strength, he swings a
focused downward blow striking the stick of Elias and smashing it into pieces as the
crowd jumps to their feet. But Elias anticipated this, using his wit and not his strength,
he allowed the giant warrior to break his stick as he moved to the side and quickly used this to his advantage. The stick of the giant warrior was embedded deeply in the sand,
and for a moment could not be moved. Like a strategic final chess move where you must
sacrifice your queen to reveal a checkmate, Elias spins to the side and lands a deadly
blow to his exhausted opponent knocking him off his feet and onto the soil; ending the
competition. For now, Elias has proven himself as the true champion. The crowd on
their feet, electrified, applauded the young prince. His father couldn’t be prouder as they
handed Elias the winning trophy. He triumphantly held it up in the air for all to see.

Chapter: 2
The Mighty Errin
The music of the upcoming song fills the air.
A magnificent ship appears as it roars across the open Sea, crashing the resistant waves
as it leaves a frothy white water trail in its wake. The sunlight dances upon the water’s
surface, casting a sparkling brilliance that illuminates the ship’s path.
The mighty Ocean lifts her hand pushing the bow of the ship to the sky revealing Its
name as it is etched across its hull, The Errin. The view unfolds to reveal a young and
vibrant Valdemar Van Hack, brimming with energy, enthusiasm and anticipation for the
future. He finds himself aboard his father’s ship, embarking on his very first overseas
quest to new and unexplored land. With Dagger on his shoulder, his ferret companion
shares his energy. They have already stopped in two other local ports to pick up supplies
and trade goods before heading across the sea. The anticipation grows as the crew is
focused on the lookout perches high in the crow’s nest pointing due north, rings the bell,
and calls out with a melodic melody of, “Land Ho!” At this juncture, Valdemar bursts
into song performing a high-spirited composition called “I Am Alive.”The song is filled
with vibrant energy, resonating throughout the ship as Valdemar, Dagger and the crew
dance participating in this joyful moment. As the musical number ends, the playful
atmosphere lingers for a moment longer until suddenly Baron VanHack bursts out the
door of his captain’s quarters and onto the main deck. Never a smile on his face, the joyful scene comes to an abrupt halt and Valdemar’s smile fades while Dagger slides
around Valdemar’s neck with her head down. His father’s stern presence demands
attention. With a scowl on the Baron’s face, he shoves his journal into his coat pocket
and orders his crew with an authoritative voice, “Prepare to set anchor! We will be
arriving soon at the next port!” His eyes then focus on Valdemar, his tone firm and
commanding as he points to his son “And you, follow me.”The Baron leads Valdemar
back into his cabin and shuts the door. He explains to his unsuspected son what he
expects of him during this exchange of goods. Never divulging his complete sinister
plan. The Barons’ quest has always been the same, to obtain information which could
lead to sellable artifacts and if they were lucky hidden treasure. Having Valdemar on this
overseas passage made it easier for him to mingle with the native people to obtain his
true goals. The Baron is never without his indispensable journal, tucked securely in his
pocket—a treasure chest of secrets born from his countless journeys. This well-worn
leather-covered book is filled with intricate charts, detailed maps, and clever notes that
serve as his compass for mischief for now or the future. With a mere flick of its pages, he
can refer to his notes of any port and information that he had obtained during his visit,
which may lead him ever closer to his plans to snatch coveted treasures from the
unsuspecting citizens of any port he visits. Whether through cunning manipulation,
calculated persuasion, or theft, the Baron is always ready to turn a profit at the expense
of the naive.

Chapter: 3

Port town
The tide crashes against the log-covered bulkhead, splashing white water onto the
shipyard dock of Old Port Town. As the water recedes off the concrete pier and flows
through the cracks of the wooden dock into the canal, it brushes around the feet of a young African woman sitting comfortably on a bench whose name is Saba. She is not an
ordinary woman; she is the sister of the queen and an ambassador to the king.
The king’s administrator chose Saba for her instincts and political skills. Her deep
understanding of her people’s history helps her handle complex discussions, often
giving her the final say. As a natural negotiator, she can easily sway opinions and broker
deals. This makes her the ideal ambassador for the king when it comes to goods and
purchases that benefit the kingdom. She has a strong reputation among merchants as
one of the best buyers and shrewdest dealmakers in Port Town.
Saba is dressed sharply in a bright outfit and headdress. She is not alone; her personal
guards protect her from merchants trying to get her attention, while her assistant stands
behind her, eagerly awaiting her instructions.
Saba sits calmly with her guards as the bustling waterfront of Chester Street surrounds
her.
Despite the humid and heavy air in Port Town, the arrival of new merchant ships each
month fills the atmosphere with the rich smells of spices, seeds, and grains. Also visually
intoxicating are the various building materials, and exotic woods,mixed with luxurious
fabrics and handwoven rugs.
Most importantly, this is Saba’s chance to find new medical technologies to help her
people during times of illness. According to updates from Lookout Point sent to the
King, the ships are expected to arrive today.
Suddenly, Saba heard distant voices across the shoreline calling out sequentially, “Ship
ahoy! Ship ahoy!” Her young assistant pointed toward the open canal in the harbor, her
voice filled with excitement. “Look, my lady! They’re coming!” Saba turned to the
horizon and saw the wind filling the canvas sails of the approaching ships. Her spirit
awakened as she stood up, filling her with anticipation and hope for new opportunities
and promising exchanges from distant lands.
Saba’s father, Jonah, is the appointed architect for the king’s new museum wing at the
palace. He counts on his daughter to choose and buy materials for the design. He always
says, “You never know what you might find on a cargo ship from another land.”
As Saba approaches the wooden dock, she notices a young man standing confidently at
the front of his ship, his long blonde hair flowing in the sea breeze. He has a magnetic
presence, a striking contrast to the usual traders at the port. Next to him is an elderly

figure in a tattered captain’s hat and worn coat, barking orders that send his crew
scurrying.
Even though Saba is curious about the handsome stranger, the sudden rush of eager
merchants quickly brings her back to reality. As the ships begin to dock, merchants
maneuver around the guards, eager for Saba’s attention, ready to collect their
pre-ordered goods and barter a deal with the ambassador.

Chapter: 4
A ship of secrets
Valdemar felt a rush of excitement as the ship gently eased into the docks with a soft,
resounding thud. He jumped up on the wooden banister overlooking the dock, shouting
orders to secure the ship and prepare to unload the cargo of The Eirron. With a sense
of wonder and adventure, he awaited what he would find in this unfamiliar world.
While Valdemar was respected by the crew, the Baron, with his merciless authority,
was feared. The crew would whisper that The Eirron was cursed—a prison of secrets,
with the Baron holding all the keys. Despite their differences, the Baron referred to
Valdemar as his son, though they had no blood ties. The Baron had told Valdemar early
on, “You see, my boy, I found you as an orphan, abandoned by your family. You
would’ve starved if it weren’t for my kindness. So I chose to make the sacrifice and adopt
you as my own. I was never very good with children, so I gave you over to Brendel and
waited until you came of age, and now, here you are.” The Baron viewed Valdemar as an
investment for his future sinister plans then actual son;
Valdemar believed his so-called father and respected him completely, but he always felt
deep inside that the Baron was hiding something.

Chapter: 5

Hidden within the shadows

The truth was that he had not been abandoned, nor had the Baron ever legally adopted
him; he had been stolen from his cradle, ripped away from the warm embrace of his
loving family—the Duke and Duchess of Haddonfield. Whispers spread like wildfire that
he had been kidnapped by ruthless pirates, held for ransom. Born as the rightful heir to
the Haddonfield title and its vast wealth, he became a target from the very moment he
drew his first breath.
As the devastating news swept across the countryside, the people of Haddonfield were
plunged into despair. He represented their single hope for the future—the only child
born to the Duke and Duchess since their marriage. A blessing in their lives, they named
him after his great-grandfather, Valdemar. Little did they know that their precious boy
was merely a pawn in a sinister game, manipulated by unseen hands.
The Duchess, brokenhearted, wept incessantly for her lost son. The Duke, trying to
console her, also pondered in despair: “How could they have bypassed our guards
without a trace? Who could be this treacherous?” Unbeknownst to him, the answer lay
within his own inner circle—a young, ambitious ship captain who harbored a
deep-seated resentment towards the Duke and his court. He loved his country. But he
viewed the leaders as feeble and inadequate; he saw the aging Duke as a naive fool, one
who should wield his power to wage war, conquer the surrounding provinces, and
possibly one day even overthrow the King himself.
In the shadows, he concocted a diabolical plan, a scheme so wickedly clever and
exquisitely manipulative that
He could hardly believe he had come up with it himself.
As the sole witness to the unfolding chaos, he carefully crafted his narrative for the royal
court to make it believable:
“I was restless and couldn’t sleep my lord, so I ventured out onto the deck to catch a
breath of fresh night air. I noticed a cargo ship sailing into the dark horizon, which
struck me as odd. So I observed it as it moved into the canal. Luckily, the moon was full,
and I could see clearly as they raised their flag. It was the flag of the Jolly Roger, a pirate

ship. With urgency, I made my way back to the castle to tell you what I had seen when I
stumbled upon this letter left on the dock. It was addressed to you.”
By now, the entire court had gathered, their attention riveted on him. Kneeling, the
young captain presented the letter to the Duke and asked, “My lord, would you like me
to read it?” “Yes, yes,” the Duke urged. The captain broke the wax seal and unfurled the
parchment, revealing its contents. “If you value your child’s life, heed the navigational
coordinates inscribed here. Bring £10,000 sterling, and we shall make the exchange, or
you’ll never see the child again .” He gestured toward the detailed directions, displaying
them for all to see, his heart racing with the thrill of deception, for he had penned the
letter with his own treacherous hand.
The aging Duke was distraught and confused as the room buzzed with conversation. He
called out, his voice reverberating through the chamber.“Are there any volunteers
willing to take on this noble mission?” The room suddenly fell silent. The ship captains
were too old to undertake such a task and were not willing to risk their necks against a
gang of merciless pirates.
The young captain, seizing the moment and being the only one who knew there was no
real danger, bravely stepped forward. “My lord, since the voices of cowards have
silenced this room, I shall accept this hazardous task.”
Outraged cries erupted from the older captains, “How dare you! You arrogant little!”
Silencing them with a raised hand, the Duke declared, “Hush. If this young man chooses
to face this danger, I commend his courage. Return my son unharmed, and I shall
reward you with 50 pieces of silver.” He coughed at the meager offer, hoping the young
captain would be foolish enough to accept it.
“Fear not, my lord. I vow to bring back young Valdemar at any cost, regardless of how
long it takes. I will track down the villains responsible for this heinous crime and serve
them their deserved justice,” the young captain proclaimed, a silent chuckle bubbling
within him.
“Then it is settled,” replied the Duke. “You shall have my finest ship, The Errin, along
with the ransom funds. Set sail at dawn.” With a respectful nod, the young captain took
his leave, reveling in the unfolding of his nefarious plot.
As dawn broke, he discreetly used the ransom money to fill The Errin with lucrative
cargo, planning to sell it on the open sea for personal gain. With the child confined

within his captain’s quarters, He promised his eager crew that untold riches awaited
them if they followed him. Though they were aware of the young captain’s ruthless
reputation, they believed he would honor his word. So they set sail.
It was the dawn of a new chapter in his life—the first day he would begin chronicling his
memoirs. As he settled at his desk, he cast his gaze out through the porthole of his cabin,
contemplating the vastness of the world beyond. A soft whimper broke the stillness; the
baby stirred, a reminder of the weighty responsibility that lay ahead. Questions swirled
in his mind: What did he truly know about raising a child? Driven by a mix of
uncertainty and determination, he opened his journal, the blank pages inviting him to
explore the possibilities that awaited. Placing his quill into the ink well, he shook it
clean, and with a deep breath, he began to write.

Chapter: 6

A Captain’s Journal

My plan has worked out exactly as I expected. Not only did I acquire the Duke’s finest ship,
but I also have his money and his successor. If I don’t return in a few months, they will think
we were lost at sea, victims of those vicious pirates. How tragic! I will become a legend as
they mourn me. Perhaps they’ll even commission a monument in my likeness.
I also possess something else that the Duke does not — that’s Time.
I can traverse the globe in search of adventure, amassing untold riches along the way. And
when I’ve had my fill and reached my goals, I shall return to my homeland. I will have
outlived the Duke and his so-called council. Though I may not share royal blood to claim the
Duke’s position, my newfound power and wealth will enable me to execute the second part of
my plan.
Valdemar is the sole heir to the Haddonfield family. I will act as a second father to the young
lad and raise him to obey me. When I finally bring him back to our homeland, I will be hailed
as a hero, the man who rescued the young Duke. I will make him appoint me as chancellor, and
soon afterwards, fate’s cruel hand will strike, and young Valdemar will be found poisoned at
the hands of our enemies. How tragic! In the ensuing chaos, I shall assume his place and ignite
a fervent campaign for vengeance. With the people’s support, I will rise to become the
singular leader of the realm, and they will crown me Baron VanHack, the Duke of
Haddonfield. My only regret is that I must leave my beloved Helen. I hope that she can
forgive me. I will return a much more powerful man.

Chapter: 7
Brendel’s loyalty
Brendel had been a devoted servant of the Baron ever since he saved Brendel’s life.
Brendel’s loyalty traced back to a fateful night when he was a promising young sailor for
the King’s crown. His valiant ship was caught in the grip of a tempestuous lightning
storm. When disaster struck, he was called to the bridge to take over the helm to steer
the ship through the churning chaos. The fierce winds howled ominously as Brendel
grappled with the wheel, but in a cruel twist of fate, he lost control, sending the vessel
crashing onto the jagged shoreline and succumbing to the merciless depths below.
Brendel remained steadfast at his post as the ship sank, choosing to face the impending
doom rather than abandon his comrades. Miraculously, he emerged as the sole survivor
when the Baron found him, forever haunted by the echoes of that tragic night.
Unbeknownst to Brendel, the Baron had orchestrated the ship’s fate. In an attempt to
steal its cargo, the Baron lingered from a concealed vantage point. His ship was
shrouded in mist when he took a calculated shot, targeting the royal ship’s rudder,
blowing a hole right through it. This rendered the vessel unsteerable and sealed its fate
against the rocky coast. The thunderous roar of the storm masked the shot, leaving
Brendel to carry the weight of guilt alone.
The burden of that night transformed Brendel into a shadow of his former self.
Swearing to never touch the helm of a ship as his hands shook at even the thought of it.

With a spirit worn thin and his confidence in tatters, he became slightly clumsy and
often lost in thought, leading to a series of awkward mishaps. Yet, despite these
shortcomings, Brendel’s heart remained pure, and his intentions steadfastly noble.

Chapter: 8

Redemption

Brendel stood upon the ship’s deck, his gaze fixed on the bustling port of a new land, his
heart swelling with pride as he observed Valdemar. The young man directed his
shipmates with an air of authority as he took charge of the ship’s }manifest, placing it on
the dock ready for exchange. Yet Brendel could not shake the memory of the first time
he laid eyes on Valdemar’s face.
On that day, the sea was intolerable, and so was the Baron’s temper. The Baron hadn’t
had a good night’s sleep in weeks and was at his wits’ end. He burst out of his cabin in a
fury, kicking everything in his path while holding a crying baby under his arm. One of
the crew members was scrubbing the deck and lay in the captain’s way. The captain
booted him aside, sending him tumbling into his bucket of soapy water.
“Out of my way, you slithering maggot!” the captain shouted. The soaking-wet crew
member, with the bucket over his head, peeked out to see the rage on the captain’s face
and quickly pulled the bucket back down. The crew was petrified, too scared to speak or
even move as they watched the young captain go into a frenzy. He yelled, “I’ve had
enough! I can’t take any more! This child is driving me crazy! I’d rather sail the seven
seas for eternity or be boiled in buzzard soup than spend one more day like this!”
Whatever plans the captain had had for the future were now masked by his anger. With
that, he lifted the baby above his head and mercilessly prepared to toss him into the
open sea.
Brendel, a newcomer to the Eirron and not knowing what the captain was really
capable of, saw this terrible thing and reacted impulsively. He dropped the rope he was

preparing to tie off and, with naive courage, stepped in front of the captain. The entire
crew gasped at what they thought would happen next.
He knelt on one knee and said, “Please, Captain, don’t do this terrible thing. The child
doesn’t know who you are. If he did, he wouldn’t be crying. Allow me to teach him about
your greatness, and I promise he will honor you as we do.”
The Baron hesitated, his fury dissipating slightly as he cast a glance at his trembling
crew, who nodded in fearful agreement. Brendel pressed on, his voice steady. “You need
not ever see him again unless you desire it.” In that desperate moment, he felt an
opportunity for redemption—a chance to atone for the innocent souls lost in the
shipwreck for which he bore responsibility.
“Take this insufferable child away from me before I change my mind!” the Baron
roared, thrusting the infant into Brendel’s arms as he turned and stomped off. Fearful of
provoking the captain any further, Brendel softly and with a crack in his voice had one
last request. “Captain,” venturing cautiously, “what is his name?” The captain turned to
Brendel and said, “Are you still speaking? Why, why are you still speaking?” Brendel
gulped and replied, “What shall I call him?” gesturing to the child with his eyes.
The captain kicked open the door to his cabin, and as every word he said got louder and
louder, “Valdemar! Valdemar!! Valdemar!!!! Now be gone and do not disturb me!” He
pointed his finger at Brendel in a threatening ultimatum. “And keep that wretched
creature quiet, or I’ll drown you both!” as he slammed the door behind him.
Brendel looked down at the child with relief, a bundle of blonde hair with bright blue
eyes. Brendel’s compassionate gaze stopped baby Valdemar from crying. The child
exuded joy and love that could melt the iciest hearts. Brendel proclaimed, “This is a
child of God, and I will be its shepherd. You were meant for great things little one; God
has spared your life today so that you can serve him in some mysterious way.”
Brendel carried baby Valdemar back to his cabin, where he prepared a makeshift crib
from an old tattered basket. As he untied the blanket that the baby was wrapped in, he
suddenly noticed something metallic fall to the floor. It rolled and bumped across the
wooden surface before coming to a stop against a chair leg. Intrigued, he placed the baby
gently inside the cozy basket, quickly filled a bottle with goat’s milk, and offered it to
baby Valdemar, who soon fell fast asleep. Brendel smiled at the innocent child before
turning his attention back to the object on the floor.

He bent down to pick it up—a ring, but not just any ring; it bore a family crest that he
did not recognize. However, Brendel knew immediately that it had slipped off the finger
of a member of a royal family. Judging by its size, it looked to be a woman’s ring.
“Maybe it’s his mother’s,” Brendel recalled. Rumors had reached him in the sea ports of
a noble child abducted by pirates before being rescued by the Eirron. Could this truly be
that child? Doubt flickered in his mind—after all, the Baron was no pirate; they were on
a cargo ship of the King’s fleet. Yet Brendel resolved to keep the ring, vowing to uncover
the mystery of the crest. He glanced around to ensure no one was watching and tucked
the valuable ring safely into his vest pocket.
The Baron decided it was in his best interest to leave Brendel and the newborn on a
habitable island, out of his hair,
or whatever strands still clung to his scalp. This secluded spot was his well-guarded
sanctuary for all his treasures. “Welcome to your new home,” he declared with a mix of
authority and indifference. “I shall visit this port once a year.” Yet beneath his grand
words lay a different truth: the Baron had every intention of returning only when he had
new spoils to conceal. If fortune didn’t favor him, Brendel and the child might find
themselves waiting for years.
Valdemar’s childhood was filled with heartwarming tales of adventure that were
destined to be told one day. Brendel cherished Valdemar, showering him with affection
and treating him as if he were his own flesh and blood, forging a bond that transcended
the scars of their pasts. As Valdemar grew strong and tall, reaching manhood, Brendel
was always by his side, teaching him the secrets of the sea—how to navigate its
tempestuous waves and respect the fury of the boundless ocean. When Valdemar finally
embarked on his first journey, he stood confidently at the helm, impressing the Baron
with his knowledge of the sea and his powerful presence as a leader.
Yet hidden within Valdemar’s life was a truth known only to Brendel—one that held the
key to both their destinies.

Chapter: 9

The Baron

With the ship securely docked and his goods unloaded and displayed properly, the
Baron stood confidently on the deck. Clasping his hands behind his back, he vibrated
with anticipation as he contemplated his next move.
He called over one of the crew members working nearby and instructed, “Fetch
Valdemar. I wish to speak with him.” The crew member hurried down the plank and
onto the dock, whispering in Valdemar’s ear.
Valdemar was busy organizing the last pallet of goods being released from the ship’s
rigging. He looked up at the captain and nodded in acknowledgment. Gesturing for the
crew to continue their work, he made his way directly to where the Baron stood.

Standing at attention and avoiding direct eye contact with the captain, Valdemar said,
“Yes, sir, Captain. How can I help you?” The Baron reached into the pocket of his dark
blue weather jacket and handed the ship’s manifest to Valdemar. “This document
outlines our expenses for this cargo, along with my expected selling prices. I trust this
journey will be our most lucrative yet, so negotiate wisely. One day, all of this will be
yours. What have I taught you?”

Valdemar straightened, lifted his chin, and replied, “Greed is a term of endearment, and
mercy is for the weak.”
The Baron gazed out onto the pier observing the hustle and bustle of the street, and
said,“precisely my boy. Do your job with precision, and don’t fail me.” Valdemar saluted
the captain with fervor as he replied, “Yes father! I will not let you down,” With that, the
Baron turned his focus toward the walking plank, stuffing his journal into his pocket,
and strode down the plank onto the bustling pier, seamlessly blending into the vibrant
crowd.
The Baron had little interest in anything that did not serve to bolster his wealth and
insatiable thirst for power. As soon as he set foot on solid ground, he was determined to
wring every morsel of information about hidden treasures or valuable artifacts tucked
away in this unfamiliar land. He knew that such treasures could often be found in sacred

places of worship or disguised as mere trinkets, and he was resolute in his quest to seize
whatever riches this new land had to offer. The determination burning within him was
fiercer than ever; he was growing weary of this life, yet he craved one final monumental
score,making him more dangerous than ever.
An exhilarating feeling pulsed through him as he weaved his way through the crowded
street. Immediately, he sought out local transporters eager to earn a quick dollar. He
had tested this chain in many ports and he knew where the weakest links were. The
more battered his wagon and the older his mule appeared, the more likely he would be
able to extract information without emptying his pockets. After all, who knew the open
country better than a seasoned local transporter? Anyway, the competition was fierce. If
you looked like you couldn’t handle the job you wouldn’t get it. As the Baron strolled
down Chester Street, surveying the crowds, he stumbled upon a row of wagons
clamoring for attention. Each driver stood before their wagon, calling out to passersby
with enthusiasm.
“My friend, come look!” one driver exclaimed, spreading his arms wide to showcase his
wagon. Some customers glanced out of polite curiosity while others brushed by,
signaling their disinterest. The transports continued to yell out,“I have the finest mule in
Port Town; you won’t experience any delays!”
The Baron observed from across the street, “This looks like a promising beginning.
They’re all more than willing to do anything for a few coins.” Transporters were being
hired, but not the scruffy looking one at the end, where an old man and his weathered
mule, who had undoubtedly seen better days. The Baron sneered, and said,“That’s my
guy,”.
With a confident stride, he crossed the street, skillfully weaving through the bustling
traffic and the muddy street, and approached the old man. The old man’s face lit up like
a radiant sun as he stood tall and declared, “Ah, my dear sir, you have come to the right
place!” The Baron smirked and replied,
“Your mule appears a bit elderly, as do you.” Without missing a beat, the old man
replied, “Experience is our greatest asset! We’ve traveled this land for years and know
every shortcut. There isn’t a place we haven’t seen.” He proudly patted his aging mule on
the back, causing a puff of dust to rise into the air. Waving his hand through the dust to
dismiss it, the Baron’s smile widened, which was no easy feat for him, and he said,

“Impressive. A well-traveled man is exactly what I’m looking for. Allow me to introduce
myself. I’m a traveler, new to your country, and an archaeologist on a quest to find
specific artifacts to showcase in my homeland’s museum. Perhaps you could lend me
your expertise?”
The Baron had used this line countless times. “You see, wherever I journey, I like to
document the history of the native land, purely for scholarly purposes, of course. Maybe
you can help me, my good man? I’m eager to gather a few trinkets that represent your
fine country.”
The old man quickly grasped the Baron’s true intentions, recognizing him as a pirate
seeking profit. Shaking his head dismissively, he began to turn away while speaking in a
foreign tongue. The Baron called after him, “I’m willing to pay for any information that
could guide me in the right direction.” With that, he produced a small pouch filled with
coins and gave it a shake. The old man’s eyes widened with interest as he glanced at his
weary mule, which let out a groan of hunger. Leaning in closer to the Baron, he
whispered conspiratorially, “What’s the bounty?”
“How valuable is the information?” the Baron replied, a glimmer of intrigue in his eyes.
The Baron opened his pouch of coins, pulled one out, and inconspicuously placed it into
the hand of the old man. The old man winked, put the coin in his mouth, and bit down
on it, saying, “There’s a hidden plateau nestled in the Mountains of the Moon. Within,
you’ll discover ancient artifacts housed in a temple—golden treasures, some say. They
are the treasures of the gods. Legend has it that this is the origin of the Kinshasa River.
To find its origin, is to find the lifeline of my people and Egypt itself. A great reward for
such a great find. But be warned,this is a forbidden place.”
Now more captivated than ever, the Baron pressed on, “How might I reach that region?”
The local man extended his hand, and eager to close the deal, the Baron placed another
coin into his palm. The old man discreetly gestured with his chin toward the distant
mountains. “There lies what you seek. But you’ll have to go through Kingdom City to get
there, and you’ll need a map from there, which is almost impossible to obtain. You need
an invitation from the King; they don’t like strangers from other lands.”
Anxiously, the Baron asked, “But whom should I speak to? How can I get an invitation?”
The old man bit into the second coin. “You see that colorfully dressed woman over there
with the two guards? She’s an ambassador from the palace. But don’t get your hopes up;

with the way you look, she probably won’t even give you the time of day!” He added with
a knowing smile, “Just a word of caution: no one who has ventured to the Mountains of
the Moon has ever returned.” The old man laughed oddly.
Just then, the street became congested with traffic. A driver of a packed wagon called
out to the Baron, “Move mate! You’re in the way.” The Baron stepped aside to let the
wagon pass, but when he turned back, the old man, the wagon, and his mule had
vanished. The Baron looked at the ground, searching for tracks in the muddy street to
determine which way the wagon wheels might have gone, but there were no signs—no
tracks. In a strange, mysterious way, it was as if the old man had never been there at all.

Chapter: 10

Valdemar meets Saba

Valdemar was deeply immersed in negotiations with the town’s merchants, his vessel
laden with a rich range of goods and exotic spices. Among the treasures were two
magnificent pieces of carving timber salvaged from the ancient Tibetan temples they
had visited that past spring. Now a seasoned sailor, Valdemar had devoted himself to
mastering the art of navigation. Under the tutelage of the Baron and Brendel, he learned
to read maps, interpret wind patterns, and harness the power of compass directions. He
understood that the ability to create maps was crucial for documenting his journeys, and
he made it a priority to cultivate that skill. As he meticulously arranged the cargo on the
dock—ensuring that it was perfectly organized for the merchants’ inspection—his father,
the Baron, approached him with a commanding presence. “I have a task for you, and I
expect you to see it through,” he declared. Valdemar sensed the weight of his father’s
words and replied, “I’m occupied here, managing this delicate cargo that demands my
attention.” Just then, the two oversized carved timbers were being lowered to the dock.
The Baron, unwavering, countered, “You’re busy only when I say you are. Look over
there—see that girl? I want you to engage her. Convince her to invite us to her tribe’s
village; we might be granted the chance to trade directly with her Kingdom and learn
invaluable insights about their traditions. She holds significant importance.” Valdemar

couldn’t suppress a smirk, “Since when did you become so interested in tribes and
traditions?” The Baron replied with firm resolve, “I’m interested now. Do as I command,
and make sure you’re charming.” With a resigned sigh, Valdemar agreed. As Valdemar
approached Saba, he felt a mix of intimidation and intrigue; she was surrounded by
eager merchants vying for her attention. Pushing through the crowd with confidence, he
glanced at her and remarked to Dagger, who rested comfortably on his shoulder, “She’s
exquisite. What’s your take?” Dagger responded with an enthusiastic nod. Saba was a
vision, with a vibrant native dress that accentuated her graceful figure, crowned with a
traditional headdress that added to her beauty. Taking a breath, Valdemar stepped
boldly in front of the crowd, gently parting them with his imposing stature. “Excuse me,
I hope I’m not intruding, but I am a sailor who just arrived on the Erron.” With pride, he
gestured toward his majestic ship. “I was hoping we could talk, and I must say, you look
absolutely lovely today.” Caught off guard, Saba blinked and blushed, instantly
recognizing him from the ship thanks to his striking blonde hair. She found him
irresistibly attractive, and as their eyes met, a spark ignited between them. With a shy
nod, her innocent smile revealed her openness. “Yes, of course, how can I assist you?”
Dagger peeked out to get a better look at Saba. “What a sweet creature! What’s her
name?” Saba inquired. Valdemar felt a surge of pride and replied, “Her name is Dagger.
She’s my steadfast companion.” Saba smiled warmly, reaching out to caress her. Dagger,
sensing the friendly invitation, leaped onto Saba’s arm and climbed to her shoulder,
sitting back on her hind legs. Though startled, Saba accepted Dagger’s affectionate
overture with grace. Valdemar, feeling a twinge of embarrassment, remarked, “She
doesn’t usually behave this way. In fact, I’ve never seen her so friendly with a stranger.”
Dagger, sensing the moment’s warmth, began to wrap herself around Saba’s neck in a
display of trust. Saba asked, “How did you come to name her Dagger?” Valdemar
grinned and shared, “She always gets straight to the point. She has an uncanny ability to
sense danger—she’s like my personal bodyguard.” Saba replied thoughtfully, “I see,” as
she looked him over with intrigued eyes. “So, you need a bodyguard, really?”
Saba looked in his eyes and blinked slowly with an affectionate lure. Valdemar,
momentarily hypnotized, stammered slightly, murmuring, “Well, if you say so.” Saba
smiled, and reached up to stroke Dagger’s tail and said, “I have a sense about things
myself—a sort of gift. Perhaps that’s why we connect,” he added, as Dagger gazed at

Saba with adoration while she petted her. “I apologize; let me retrieve her,” Valdemar
offered. Saba chuckled softly, “No, it’s alright. She seems very sweet, just like you.”
Valdemar’s heart raced as he caught his breath, thinking, “Perhaps this journey won’t be
so burdensome after all. I might actually enjoy this task.” With a newfound closeness,
they stared into each other’s eyes, Dagger perched comfortably on Saba’s shoulder.
Though the port bustled with activity around them, in that moment, the world outside
faded away, leaving only the magic of two people feeling something that they have never
felt before.

Chapter: 11

A Fist of magic
Valdemar eagerly anticipated his upcoming invitation to Kingdom City Province, a
journey he would undertake alongside his father and selected crew members.
Meanwhile, Brendel remained behind to secure the cargo and negotiate any leftover
deals with local merchants. Saba relayed the good news—they had secured permission
for entry into Kingdom City. A lucrative business arrangement had been crafted, in
which The Baron and Valdemar exclusively pledged to supply a trove of exotic spices,
worldly goods, and vital building materials. The negotiations in Kingdom City promised
a wealth of natural resources to be traded for the VanHeck cargo. They had one month
to conduct their business before they would have to leave. Kingdom City had strict laws
limiting the stay of any overseas visitors due to a proclamation from the King’s court,
which aimed to prevent foreign influence from changing their way of life. Any extension
would have to be granted directly by either the prince or the King himself. Valdemar sat
comfortably atop a horse-drawn wagon, leading a long procession of wagons loaded with
the Eirron cargo. The Baron followed not far behind, looking uncomfortable—almost
seasick. Saba sat next to Valdemar, her hood pulled over her head as she enjoyed his
company. Under Saba’s guidance, they finally crossed the Kinshasa Bridge. “This is it,
Kingdom City Province, the land of my forefathers,” Saba said with a joyful gesture.
Valdemar remarked, “Aside from a few scattered trees in the distance, it looks more like

a desert than a kingdom.” Saba replied, “These open plains are the homes of my
ancestors. This land is considered a magical place. A lot of history has survived here.”
Valdemar focused his gaze ahead. “I don’t believe in magic; I believe in what I can see
and touch.” Suddenly, they were surrounded by hostile natives. Some held spears and
shields, while others aggressively aimed arrows ready to fire directly at them. Their
leader stepped forward, adorned in red feathers and taller than the others. He pointed
his spear at Valdemar and spoke in a foreign tongue. Valdemar shrugged and said,
“Sorry, mate. I don’t understand you.” He remarked to Saba, “Not very friendly, are
they?” The leader began to wave his spear dangerously close to Valdemar and Saba,
hoping to provoke a response. Valdemar abruptly stood up, saying, “Hold on there,
mate. We’re friendly!” He positioned himself between Saba and the potential conflict,
using his body to shield her. Saba immediately stood up and pulled back her hood,
revealing her face. Like the sun breaking through a dark cloud, the angry expressions of
the natives transformed into respect and humility as they lowered their spears and
arrows in acknowledgment of Saba’s presence. The leader remained motionless,
squinting his eyes and sending an angry message to Valdemar. Saba smiled at Valdemar
and, nodding to the warriors, said, “In this part of the world, it’s who you know, not who
you are.” Valdemar sank back into his seat, surrendering to Saba’s words with a sigh of
relief. He snapped the reins, urging the horses to move forward quickly. “I think it’s time
we leave the happy natives with pointy spears.” Valdemar asked, “How do you know
those guys?” He looked back to see the warriors scatter into the horizon, except for the
leader, who kept his gaze fixed on Saba as they passed. “Those are the King’s guards.
They are scattered throughout this part of the country to protect the King and his
property from unwelcome guests, like you.” She smiled and playfully poked him in the
arm. Valdemar responded, “Well, the big red one with the bird feathers seems to know
you. Does he consider you King’s property that needs protecting?” Saba giggled.
“Sounds like you’re a little jealous.” Valdemar sighed and wiped his forehead with his
sleeve. “You never know with a guy like that. He looks like he has a bad temper. I would
stay away from him if I were you.” Saba smiled and replied, “I’m not worried; I have you
to protect me.” Valdemar playfully smiled with confidence, “I’ll use a little of your
ancestors’ magic and then knock his teeth out.”

Chapter: 12
Kingdom city
Valdemar’s heart raced with excitement as he stepped into the lively embrace of
Kingdom City. Unlike the barren expanse of the open deserts he had traversed, this
vibrant oasis burst forth with lush greenery, tantalizing aromas of street food wafting
through the air, and crystal-clear freshwater that seemed to sparkle under the sun.
This was no mere transit town like Port Town; Kingdom City radiated life, spirit, and
deep-rooted traditions. Laughter echoed from the cheerful schoolyards, where children
eagerly embraced education—a treasured cornerstone of the community. He could see
the new university rising majestically, a beacon dedicated to science, agriculture, and
innovative medicine—a testament to their commitment to advancement.
Everywhere Valdemar looked, construction projects flourished, breathing new life into
streets and roads teeming with bustling merchants and skilled artisans. Small shops,
vibrant as a wildflower bloom, lined the avenues, each one a hub of trade where goods
flowed in from Port Town and the distant upper regions of Egypt. The city pulsed with a
dynamic energy, a social ecosystem alive with chatter, laughter, and the thrill of
commerce. Among the most coveted items was the emblem of the line within the circle,
a cherished symbol of good fortune. Crafted into delicate wooden necklaces or
impressive carvings befitting display, these talismans were highly sought after by locals
and visitors alike.
Spirituality thrived here as well, woven discreetly into the very fabric of daily life.
Temples adorned with intricate carvings welcomed worshippers for daily rituals, weekly
gatherings, and grand religious festivals. These sacred spaces also opened their doors to
the less fortunate, providing sanctuary for the needy and the ailing.
As Kingdom City powered forward into a promising future, the remote northern villages
of the Valley of the Kings remained untouched by the passage of time. There, the

villagers, often deemed “barbarians” by city dwellers, lived fiercely by the Way of the
Crystal, steeped in ancient customs and relentless tribal loyalty.
To the east, the majestic Kinshasa River flowed gracefully from the Mountain of the
Moon, while an intricate network of slow-moving canals crisscrossed the city, ensuring
that fresh water was never far away. This vital resource nourished flourishing crops and
served the city’s vibrant population. To the west, the dense rainforest loomed with
mystery, offering exotic fruits and untold secrets nestled within its shadows. Kingdom
City stood at the heart of this thriving metropolis, alive with promise and possibility.
Valdemar was taken aback by what he was experiencing. He turned to Saba and said,
“This would be a great place to settle down and raise a family. The people here are happy
and full of life; they seem to have found their rhythm.” Saba responded, “How could
anyone ask for anything more?” She murmured softly, but loud enough for Valdemar to
hear. “Except for love.”
Valdemar caught her whisper and gazed into her loving eyes. Saba quickly changed the
subject and pointed, “Look over there! That’s where we’re going, and you thought the
city was beautiful. Just wait—do you see the palace?”

Chapter: 13
The Hall of champions

Valdemar was excited to share his cargo with Saba and her father, Jonah, as it gave him
the opportunity to spend more time with Saba. She guided Valdemar and his loaded
wagons into the vast warehouse on the palace grounds. This space operated around the
clock, storing all the grain, supplies, equipment, and food necessary for palace
operations. A section of the warehouse was also designated for building materials.
Jonah had carefully organized the warehouse, dividing it into specific areas to prevent

items from getting misplaced, as he wanted to avoid spending days searching for lost
cargo.
In a gated-off and well-guarded section of the warehouse, Jonah kept ancient artifacts
and antiques that they had been collecting for years in preparation for a new wing of the
palace. This area also housed a map room containing maps that spanned centuries up to
the present day. Here, they conducted research to identify the artifacts and prepare
them for display according to their historical context. The only people allowed access to
this area were the King’s staff, Jonah himself, and Saba. This was Saba’s specialty; she
had earned her PhD in map history, focusing on locations and the identification of tribal
artifacts.
The Eirron cargo was remarkable, featuring a diverse collection of items from various
ports and distant lands. Jonah’s eyes sparkled at the sight of the exotic woods and two
large pieces of carving timber. As he examined the grand timber, he turned to Saba and
said, “This is magnificent! Wait until the prince sees this. I think I have the perfect place
for it.”
Under Prince Elias’s visionary leadership, a new wing was being constructed—designed
to showcase artifacts, celebrate the rich history of their ancestors, and illustrate their
remarkable journey through time. This wing would include a room honoring the kings
and queens of the past and their legendary achievements, aptly named the Hall of
Champions.

Chapter: 14

Saba’s Heart
Over the next couple of weeks, Valdemar and Saba had made many trips back and forth
from Port town to the palace, working closely, sharing ideas and planning cargo
distribution. Day after day, something unspoken grew between them. One evening, as
the sun began to fall behind the warehouse windows, the last workers drifted out,
leaving the vast room quiet. Saba and Valdemar sat on two wooden crates, surrounded

by paperwork and the low amber glow of lantern-light. Valdemar stretched, exhaled,
and said, “I’m tired of working. I want to know something about you—something no one
else knows.”Saba didn’t look up. She still held a manifest above her head, eyes narrowed
in concentration as she traced possible purchasing locations with her finger. Valdemar
asked her again—this time gently pushing the papers down from her face. His voice
softened, but his eyes were steady.“I want to know something about you that no one
knows.” This time, she couldn’t hide behind the manifest. With playful defiance, Saba
set the paper down on the crate, folded her arms, and tilted her head.“Alright. What do
you want to know?” Valdemar grinned.“Everything. But I’ll start with this: why aren’t
you married? Every man in this territory would marry you. I’m guessing—even that
warrior with the fancy red feathers.” Saba chuckled before speaking.“Well… I’m the
oldest of three. My sister, Kadeisha, and my little brother, Jacob.
We live in a modest home towards the outskirts of kingdom city. Close to the edge of the
rainforest. I do have a place here in the palace, but when I’m away too long, I yearn to be
home with my brother and sister. They need me, and I need them. When our mother
passed , my father was shattered. And they both look to me for guidance. She was the
light in our life’s, and my father loved her dearly. Their marriage had been arranged,
and he expected the same for me.” She paused, shaking her head.“But the suitors he
brought home, may I say politely, were not intellectually stimulating? I told him I would
marry for love, not property. I could take care of myself until I found the right person.
He looked into my eyes with frustration. I’ve never seen him angry. He said sternly,
“Love is about respect and obedience to your husband. In time, you’ll learn to love this
man.” I shook my head, defiant. “The old ways are behind us. I’d rather be alone than
trapped in misery with someone I don’t love. In my culture, if you aren’t married by 18,
your family faces shame,” I recall the pressures that weighed heavily on him. But I
couldn’t go against what I felt inside. As I told you, I have a sense of things, and I can’t
explain it; it drives me. So I had chosen a different path—pursuing my education and
discovering a passion that brought me here.” Valdemar’s response was a mix of respect
for the laws of her land and warmth from his heart. “I appreciate your perspective. I
don’t have a culture like yours—only the law of the sea,” he said, a grimace escaping his
lips. “You’re incredibly brave. I wish I could defy my father the way you did.” Saba’s

voice softened, curiosity glimmering in her gaze. “Forgive my intrusion, but you’re not
like him. He’s cold and angry; honestly, you bear no resemblance to him at all.”
Valdemar sighed deeply, a weight in his tone. “That’s because he’s not my biological
father; he adopted me. His temper is notorious, but I tread carefully around it. I respect
him—he taught me everything I know.” A flicker of unease crossed Saba’s mind at the
mention of the Baron, but she quickly pushed it away. “Now it’s your turn—share your
story with me.” “Not much to tell,” Valdemar replied, his eyes turning distant. “I was an
orphan, growing up on a remote island, hidden away in a small village. One day, I hope
to find my mother and father and ask her why she abandoned me. Did I cry too much?
Was I ugly?” Pain shadowed his eyes, and he pulled a ring from his pocket, its gleam
catching the fading light. “Brendel gave me this ring and said it might belong to my
mother. I’m to keep it hidden from my father, though I don’t quite understand why. This
is all I have of her.” Dagger, sensing his turmoil, nestled her head against Valdemar’s
shoulder in solidarity. Saba reached out gently, taking his hand. “May I see it?” With a
nod, Valdemar placed the ring in her hand. She studied it, her brow furrowing in focus.
“This… this is a royal family crest. I’m confident of it. If you’ll allow me, I’ll look into the
archives in the map room. Perhaps I can uncover some information about this.”
“Really? You would do that for me?” he asked, with the spark of hope in his voice. Saba
squeezed his hand tighter. “Absolutely! Can I borrow it for my search?” Valdemar slid
the ring onto her finger, a smile lighting up his face. “It fits you perfectly. Consider it a
gift.” Saba’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “I could never take something so
precious from you,” Valdemar replied softly, gazing deeply into her eyes,“ it’s been the
only thing in my life that’s ever meant anything to me, until now. Something happened
on that day that wasn’t supposed to happen, but it happened anyway; they were falling
in love. But then, anguish crossed Valdemar’s features. Saba, sensing his distress, asked
softly, “What troubles you?” “ He could hear the Baron’s voice in his head, saying,
“Greed is a term of endearment, and mercy is for the weak.”
“It’s my father,” he confessed, his voice heavy with concern. “He wouldn’t accept my not
returning to the ship. I have to go with him. He’s inflexible and demanding, accustomed
to getting his way. Saba said, let’s not worry about that. It’s a long way away and
whatever you decide I will respect your decision.” Valdemar’s tone changed, “no matter

what happens, I promise I will find my way back to you. We will see each other again.”
As if in response, two little lovebirds landed on the windowpane, their chirping filling
the air with a melody. Dagger hopped off Valdemar’s shoulder and wobbled on top of a
cargo box, tapping his foot to create rhythm. The moment felt electric, compelling
Valdemar and Saba to sing a duet—a heartfelt melody titled “I’ll See You Once Again.”
They locked eyes, the world around them fading, and drew each other into a warm
embrace. But unbeknownst to them, lurking in the shadows and listening intently to
every whisper of affection one of the Baron’s, loyal crewmates.

Chapter: 15

Sinister ears
As the crewman prepared to knock on the captain’s field door, his fellow sailors gestured
with an invisible cup in their hands, imitating what the captain was doing. With a
cautious knock, the crewmember swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Reporting
news to the Baron was already risky, but confronting him while he was in this condition
felt like putting a noose around his own neck. However, if he didn’t report and the
captain found out on his own, it would be even worse.

The King’s trade visa was about to expire, and the Baron still hadn’t found the treasure.
He needed more time—time he did not have—and so he turned to the one thing that
never failed him: a bottle of rum.

Slumped behind his desk with a silver mug in hand, he growled through a thick, salty
slur, “What is it!? What do you want!?”

The door cracked open. A trembling head squeezed through—oversized ears first. The
crew had nicknamed him Big Ears for a reason; his ears were so big they would get
caught in the wind. With his head inside facing the captain and his body outside ready to

turn and run if necessary, he said, “Excuse me, Captain,” he stammered. “I—I’ve got
news I think you’ll want to hear.”

The Baron’s eyes narrowed. “If this is another one of your silly bird tales, I’ll have you
keelhauled for a month! Last week you claimed you saw flying pink angels come to
scoop you up and take you to pirate heaven. Turned out to be a flock of flamingos, you
drunken half-wit!”

“N-no, sir. It’s… it’s Valdemar.”

The Baron froze mid-sip. “What did you say?”

He lifted his boot and pushed it up against the door, pinning Big Ears’ neck between the
door and the frame like a trapped clam. “Valdemar?” he snarled. “What about
Valdemar?”

Big Ears struggled to breathe, his mouth flapping as his huge ears wiggled helplessly.
“H-he’s in love with that ambassador woman, sir! And he’s… thinking about not
returning to the ship!”

The Baron applied just a bit more pressure—enough to make the man squeak like a
barnyard mouse. “Who told you this?”

“I—I saw it! With my own eyes!” Big Ears gasped.

The Baron finally released him. The crewmember hit the floor in a heap, his face turning
a shade of red usually reserved for boiled lobsters. He grimaced as he folded his ears
back and dragged his head out of the gap.

The Baron leaned back in his luxurious red velvet chair—hauled all the way from the
ship for his personal comfort. His mood shifted abruptly.

“So… Valdemar is in love,” he mused. “We’ll see about that.”

But midway through that thought, something darker—and far more
interesting—slithered into his mind. A slow pirate grin curled across his scruffy face.
“Maybe this adolescent romance can work to my advantage.”

He tapped a long, dagger-shaped fingernail against his chin. “If Valdemar can persuade
the King to extend our stay, it will give me the time I need to uncover the location of the
treasure.”

He poured himself another shot of rum and raised it like a toast to his own brilliance.
“Enjoy your little adolescent love affair, my boy,” he muttered. “But make no mistake.”
The Baron’s expression became serious. “You will be coming back to the ship with me.”
He emptied his cup.

He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and poured another, slamming the bottle on the
table. “Love is for fools. The only real thing that matters is power. One day you’ll
understand, my son: love fades. But gold—gold lasts forever.”

He raised his mug high. “To all broken hearts—may you drown your sorrows in
treasure.”

He slumped back in his chair, barely keeping his eyes open. Then, with a surprising
flicker of gentleness, he removed a small gold watch from his pocket. Clicking it open, he
revealed a snapshot of a woman. A tear welled in his eye as he whispered, “Helen… I’m
sorry.”

His eyes rolled back, and with a sudden thump, his head hit the desk as he drifted off
into a drunken slumber.

Chapter: 16
King Jaheim’s truth
King Jaheim organized a grand celebration for the winners of the Millennium Games. It
had been many years since the great banquet hall had hosted a celebration; it had
remained silent and empty since the incident. But not today. There would be food,
music, and dancing. The crowds filled the hall, cheering for Prince Elias and all the other
champions who had emerged victorious at the games. A leafy crown was fashioned for
Elias as he placed his victory trophy on a pedestal atop the King’s table for all to see. The
people adored their young prince and cheered uncontrollably, parading him around on
their shoulders throughout the palace. He deserved the utmost respect, as he was
destined to be the next king.
The celebration created new memories that would never be forgotten, but it also brought
back old memories for King Jaheim. Sadly, there was an empty royal chair next to the
king. It had remained vacant for years, as far back as Elias could remember. Elias was an
only child with no siblings, and those were difficult times.
As the event concluded and the crowds dispersed, the great hall was once again empty.
King Jaheim sat on his throne, filled with pride as he pondered the future, tapping his
feet and humming melodies from the celebration. Yet, lingering in the back of his mind,
he struggled to avoid reliving the past. Elias, sitting next to his father on the left,
appeared melancholy as he looked at the empty seat where his mother used to sit. All
the excitement had unearthed his most hidden emotions. Elias wiped tears from his
eyes, pulled the leafy crown off his head, and dropped it to the floor.
“I wish my mother were here. I never met her, but I did this for her,” he said softly.
The main kitchen attendant, accompanied by several assistants, approached the king.
“My Lord, is it okay if we start cleaning up?” The king waved his hand, giving
permission.

The clatter of plates, bottles, and mops filled the room as the kitchen staff began their
work. The king stood before Elias and spoke in a firm tone, “Now, listen to me. You did
this for yourself! You were brave and honorable, and you made us all proud. Your
mother always knew you would be a champion from the day you were born.”
Elias stood up and, turning quickly, looked at his father intensely. “I want to know what
happened! You’ve never told me. I’m old enough now!”
King Jaheim, now apprehensive, put his hands behind his back and walked to the
window, holding his head down. “There was no trace; she was just gone.”
Lifting his head to gaze out the grand window of the palace, he drifted into thought.
The king Jaheim said in a sad voice. “ I could still see her in the courtyard with a grayish
white streak in her hair, as she organized a caravan several times a year to go to the
north region to help the poor and the sick. She was proud of her Gray streak,she felt like
the gods had touched her hair for all the good deeds that she had done.
She would wave goodbye as you stood next to me. You never waved back; you just
stared at her with eyes that begged for her not to go. She would throw kisses, and
occasionally, you would return one. But mostly, you just stared, and I worried. Her
humanitarian efforts were known throughout the land. We would argue, but I could
never talk her out of it. I knew there was danger. She had a heart of gold and cared more
for the well-being of her people than her own safety.”
“One day, in late summer, she went on such a journey, but this time she didn’t return.
Her entourage told us she went to help a sick child in a rainforest village and just
vanished. You were so young; she would never leave you. We all feared the worst.
Perhaps she encountered a man-eating beast, or maybe she was kidnapped for ransom.
But none of that was true. She simply disappeared, as if she never existed.”
Several staff members, having overheard what the king said, were overwhelmed with
emotion, wiping away tears, for they had all known her.

Elias became angry and slammed his hand on the table, causing the pedestal that held
his trophy to shake and nearly topple over. The entire kitchen staff abruptly stopped,
and the room fell silent. Elias looked at his father.
“That’s impossible! Nobody just disappears! Where could she have gone?”
King Jaheim quickly grabbed the trophy as the pedestal fell to the floor, shattering into a
million pieces that scattered throughout the hall. He held Elias’s trophy tightly, looking
at the broken pieces on the floor and envisioning the search parties he had sent to look
for the queen.
“We searched everywhere but couldn’t find a trace. We followed her footsteps, and just
like that, her trail ended in the middle of nowhere, as if some dark spirit had erased it.
All we knew was that she was heading north toward the Mountains of the Moon.”
As he spoke, King Jaheim looked out the window into the night sky, gazing at the
mountain of the moon in the distance, his voice soft and low.
The mysteries that those mountains must hold. Elias threw his hands up in the air.
“Spiritual mumbo-jumbo. There’s no such thing as spirits, gods, or prophets. This is a
new century, and those are old stories. The scriptures were given to ancient people to
provide them with some semblance of law and order. We have new laws to live by. If
there are spirits, I will call on them now.” Elias raised his hands and looked up at the sky
facetiously. “Bring back my mother, and I will believe in you.”
Elias waited for a moment and then turned to his father. “You see, Father? Nothing.
That’s what these fairy tale spirits that you believe in are—nothing. If there were such a
thing as spirits or gods, my mother would be here now.” The kitchen staff stood nearby,
listening to Elias. The King glanced at them, and they quickly lowered their heads and
returned to work.
“You may be right, my son,” the King replied, “but your mother was not the only one
taken. Our people have been disappearing for years—maybe even centuries. Whole
tribes have vanished, never to be heard from again.” Elias could not accept that answer.

“Did you say ‘taken’ like captured?” King Jaheim nodded sadly. “Yes, taken. People say
those areas are cursed, and the ghosts of our ancestors are trapped. Until they are
released, this spiritual nightmare will continue.”
Elias, frustrated, fell back in his chair. “If she was taken, then that means she could be
found, and that has never happened. Father, you don’t actually believe in this nonsense,
do you?”
King Jaheim sat down next to his son. “I do believe that your mother is gone, and I miss
her dearly.” As the King started to sob, Elias reached over and grasped his father’s hand.
“I’m sorry I got mad. I love you, Dad.” The King, still holding Elias’s trophy, looked
toward his son and squeezed his hand. “I love you too, my son.”
Elias, much taller than his father, had his arm around the King’s shoulders as they
exited the banquet room. The assistants, with heavy hearts, wiped their noses and
whimpered quietly. Holding back their tears, they gathered their things and left through
the service entrance as silence fell over the great hall once again.

Chapter: 17
Colorful beads
The next morning, Elias informed his father that he was heading to Jacob’s wood shop
to order a new custom-made Kimmo stick. He had been going there for as long as he
could remember; it was one of his favorite places. Jacob was one of the best woodcarvers
in the region and knew the exact weight and height of the Kimmo stick that Elias
preferred. Elias’s father reminded him not to be out too late, saying, “We have some
things to do in the evening.” Elias agreed and set off on his way.
As he made his way toward the kingdom city, he had to pass by the construction site of
the new extension wing of the palace. Jonah, the master builder, was standing on a
ladder, directing two of his workers on the roof about how to secure a heavy wooden
support log they had just placed. Elias had known Jonah since he was little. Waving to

him, he attempted to speak over the construction noise. “You’re doing a good job; it
looks great!”
As Elias looked down and to the right, he saw Jonah’s daughter, Saba, standing on the
unfinished porch, holding some manuscripts. He smiled and called up to Jonah. “I see
that you have your daughter here helping you.” Just then, the rope snapped. The
wooden support log broke free and tumbled off the roof toward where Elias was
standing. He was still looking at Saba when he noticed her expression change from
admiration to panic. Confused, Elias didn’t fully comprehend the situation until he
heard Jonah yell, “Look out!”
There was no time for the prince to react. The wooden log was right above him.
Suddenly, he felt two hands push him from behind, sending him out of the log’s path.
Slightly disoriented, Elias looked up to see a man looking over him. Jonah jumped off
the ladder, and Saba rushed off the porch to assist the prince.
As Elias sat on the grass, the heavy log lay just next to him. Jonah, voice laced with
concern, asked, “Are you OK?” He and Saba helped Elias to his feet. After checking
himself, Elias said, “I think I’m fine. If it wasn’t for that worker pushing me out of the
way, I would’ve surely been hit.”
Jonah looked confused and then glanced at Saba. “Your Highness, there was no worker.”
Elias responded, “That’s impossible. I saw him with my own eyes.” Saba looked around.
“Your Highness, I have to agree with my father. There was nobody there.”
Elias surveyed the area carefully, looking up at the two workers on the roof and noticing
some men in the distance cutting lumber. There was no one close enough to have
pushed him. Saba, sensing the awkwardness of the moment, began to pick up her
manuscripts, while Jonah tried to change the subject. “Thank you, Your Highness, for
giving my daughter the opportunity to help design this new museum wing.”
Elias turned to Saba and said, “She is a brilliant young lady and has proven herself many
times. She is more than qualified.” Saba bowed her head respectfully to the prince. Elias
nodded in return. Jonah brushed the wood chips off his clothing.

40
“Maybe I can return the favor,” Elias said. Jonah suggested, “Perhaps you could come by
our home for dinner tonight. We’d love to have you, and I’d like you to meet my family,
especially my daughter, Kadeisha.”
Elias, feeling evasive, thought to himself that Jonah was just another father trying to
marry off his daughter. He thought, She probably has a face like a pig. I almost got hit on the head today; let’s not make it a habit. Eager to leave, he glanced at the path
leading to the kingdom city and responded to Jonah’s invitation: “Sure, sure, one day
soon.”
As Elias turned to leave, he accidentally bumped into a tall, blonde-haired man. The
man stepped back in surprise and introduced himself. “My name is Valdemar VanHeck.”
Elias was just about to introduce himself when Valdemar interrupted, “I know who you
are, young prince. Everybody knows you, and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I am
here with my father, the Baron, sharing my goods and spices with your people.”
Elias looked up at Valdemar, who was towering over him. “Well, we thank you very
much for your services. I hope you’re having a pleasant stay.” Valdemar then nervously
turned to glance at Saba, who discreetly pushed her hand forward as if to encourage him
to ask.
Valdemar returned his attention to the prince. “More than I could’ve ever expected. I
was wondering, with your approval, if we could stay a little longer to learn more about
your tribes and traditions?”
Elias asked, “Do you find our ways of life interesting?”
Valdemar replied, “Very much so, young prince.” Looking into Valdemar’s eyes, Elias
said, “I can see the sincerity in your eyes. Stay as long as you wish.” Saba’s face
brightened with a smile. She was overjoyed that the prince was so open-minded—what a
great man, she thought. The two men shook hands,
Elias turned to leave, but his mind was consumed by thoughts of the man who had
pushed him out of the way. He distinctly remembered the feeling of two hands pressing

against his back. He tried to visualize the man who had stood over him, but all he could
recall was that he wore colorful beads around his neck. For the life of him, he couldn’t
remember the man’s face.

Chapter: 18

Off the beaten path

The walk to Jacob’s shop was a bit of a journey since it was located on the outskirts of
town, but Elias knew a shortcut. All he had to do was navigate down a couple of alleys,
make a few tricky turns, walk through a chicken pen, and hop over a couple of fences.
Voila! He would be there in no time. However, when he finally hopped over the last
fence, expecting to see Jacob’s store, he was surprised to find that it was not there.
Instead of Jacob’s woodshop, he stood in front of an old bookstore with no signs. A set
of bell chimes hung next to the door entrance, tinkling in a hypnotic melody.
He looked around and noticed that the street was abandoned. Elias knew all the
businesses and shopkeepers on this block, but none of these stores looked familiar. All
of them were closed, except for this bookstore. That was odd; he had never lost his way
before. He thought to himself, I guess it’s possible. The main road I just came from was very busy. Maybe I made a wrong turn. He decided to follow his tracks back the way he
came, to see where he went wrong.
Elias jumped back over the fence and retraced his steps to the main road. After making a
few turns, he found a familiar landmark. Okay, I see where I went wrong, he thought,
picking up his trail again but this time avoiding shortcuts. He navigated around the
corner and ended up in the exact same spot. The streets were still deserted. Could he
have gotten lost? But there it was again, the old bookstore in the same place as Jacob’s
woodshop. Wouldn’t that be impossible? He had taken a completely different route; he
must have been going around in circles.

Feeling disappointed, Elias turned to walk away, but the chimes caught his attention
again, their hypnotic melody ringing even louder than before. This time, it felt as if the
chime was calling to him, whispering his name: “Elias,” and again, “Elias,” inviting him
inside. He thought to himself that he must be hearing things; it must have been the
wind. However, he found himself drawn to the door of the shop, feeling an irresistible
urge to walk in.

Chapter: 19
Kimmo fighting stick

The door creaked open, inviting him into the old store. As he stepped inside, his eyes
were filled with magical items he had never seen before. Crystals hung everywhere, tied
with delicate strings, while the walls were adorned with tapestries and an array of
beaded wooden masks and statues. The back of the store was covered with bookshelves,
filled with all different sizes of books. As he walked in he couldn’t help notice the
Handwoven carpets covered the floors, and various sizes of skin-covered drums added
to the ambiance. This was more than just a book shop; it was a place for a medicine
man, a shaman.

As he strolled down the center aisle, a playful cat, a little older than a kitten but not yet
fully grown, emerged from behind an old table cluttered with merchandise. The curious
feline approached the prince and sniffed him. Kneeling down, he gently petted her, and
they quickly forged a friendship.

“What a beautiful cat,” Elias exclaimed as he picked her up. Around her neck was a
perfectly tied bow. “You’re a little princess aren’t you?” She responded with an adorable
meow, as she started to purr. As he stroked her fur, a pleasant, but intoxicating
fragrance of incense filled the air.

To his left stood a rack brimming with old fighting sticks and spears. Each item was
intricately carved with various symbols and crafted from different types of wood. Some
featured brass caps and beaded leather straps wrapped around the center shaft. Above
the racks hung ancient bows accompanied by quivers of arrows, spears, and dried
leather shields decorated with colorful feathers and wrapped in silky materials; these
items were very old.

Elias had never seen anything like this before. He reached out to pull one of the sticks
from the rack when a door opened in the back room. A middle-aged man with peppered
gray hair and a beard stepped out and greeted him, “Hello, my friend! It’s nice to have
you visit us.” The man wore tidy clothing adorned with beads and charms that hung
from his neck and wrists, and there was something distinctly different about him but yet
familiar.

Magically a chair slid from out of nowhere, heading Elias in the back of his knees,
making him sit. Stumbling backwards into the chair.

The shopkeeper said why don’t you sit down? ” Elias, slightly apprehensive, but not
having any choice said, “OK I’ll set.”

Centra took the opportunity to jump up on his lap and continue her affection.

The shopkeeper said, “I hope Centra hasn’t been bothering you,”.

Elias responded, as he attempted to control Centra,“No, not at all! She’s beautiful, and
what an unusual name, you named her after one of the six prophets. If I remember
correctly. It was said that the prophet Centra was beautiful beyond words.” The
shopkeeper responded, yes it’s in the Scriptures. They also said that she had a bad
temper, and was difficult to work with. Elias replied, oh really, I don’t remember reading
that.

The store keeper mumbled under his breath, “Well, it’s not there yet, but it will be.”

Elias said, “What was that I didn’t hear you?” The keeper responded “never mind.”
Elias, looking at her cute little face as Centra slowly blinked her eyes. “It seems to suit
her perfectly.” Centra then made her way inside Elias’s shirt, settling in and getting cozy,
which caused him to wiggle uncomfortably.
Elias remarked, “She certainly is a handful.”
Elias continued, “Are you the shopkeeper?”
“Yes,” the man replied. He shouted, “Centra, stop being annoying!” Centra poked her
head out of his shirt, with a guilty expression. “Come out of there,” he commanded.
Centra meowed defiantly and then reluctantly jumped out onto the floor, and walked
over to her soft little pillow, where she lay down comfortably.

Elias asked, “Are you a shaman?” The shopkeeper replied, “I have sometimes been
known to be a spiritual advisor.” Elias responded with an exasperated tone, “You’re one
of those.” The shopkeeper smiled, “So you don’t believe in spirits?” Elias replied, “I
believe in what I can see, feel, and touch, like this chair or the Kimmo fighting stick in
my hand.”

The shopkeeper continued, “You’re looking for a new fighting stick because the one you
had is broken.” Elias, surprised, asked, “How would you know that? But yes, I am. I was
on my way to Jacob’s woodshop when I got lost and ended up here.” The shopkeeper
said, “Destiny has many doors when we choose to enter.”

Elias tightened his grip on the Kimmo fighting stick and swung it through the air to feel
its balance. “Destiny, my foot. I walked in because your store looked interesting. You
have many old things here, and I need something special that won’t break easily.” The
shopkeeper responded, “These items are old, but like the mighty oak tree, the older it
gets, the stronger it becomes.”

Centra shook her head in exasperation. “She’s heard Sherman’s lectures before. Give
him a reason to preach some wisdom, and you couldn’t shut him up. Elias exhales,
“Does everything in here come with a prophecy, or is that extra?” The shopkeeper

glanced over at Centra as she tilted her head sideways. The shopkeeper smirked and
then whispered ,hushing her with his two hands,“Okay, okay, maybe later.”

Elias curiously asked, “What makes your Kimmo sticks so unique? All of these look
ordinary.” He pulled another stick from the rack, which had fancier ornamentation, and
tested its density and flexibility. Turning to Sherman, he said, “Nothing special. This
may be good for decoration on the wall or maybe for a child, but not for a warrior. Is this
all you have?”

Chapter: 20
Essence of Zendara

The shopkeeper’s expression changed as he closed his eyes, beginning to spin his empty
hands so quickly that they seemed to vanish in the air. Suddenly, with a flash of light, a
stick materialized in his spinning hands. The stick moved at lightning speed, appearing
to float in slow motion. With a mesmerized expression, Elias and little Centra watched
as it danced through the incense’s smoke.

With a sudden stop, the shopkeeper held the stick straight out, the smoke swirling
around it. “Do you mean something like this? It’s made of African black wood. It has
fought in many battles and has witnessed both victories and defeats,” he said. Elias,
astonished, asked, “But… how did you do that?”

The shopkeeper handed the stick to Elias. “This is the Kimmo stick of a king. It’s yours.”
Sherman knew that it was the enchanted stick of Raiten and understood its destiny. “It’s
unbreakable, and in the right hands, it could be unstoppable.” The Kimmo stick
glistened, exuding magic. As Elias reached out and grabbed it, he could sense that this
was no ordinary stick. “I can feel its density,” he said while spinning it around, testing its
balance. “It’s the perfect fighting weapon.”

“How much do you want for it?” he inquired.

“It’s free for you, my young prince,” the shopkeeper replied. Elias tucked the stick under
his arm and felt an immediate bond with it. Immersed in its allure, Elias asked, “How do
you know that I am a prince?” The shopkeeper smiled but offered no response.

“By the way, I didn’t catch your name,” Elias continued. The aroma of the incense grew
more intense, making Elias feel slightly lightheaded as the smoky tendrils filled the
room. The shopkeeper appeared a bit blurry as Elias squinted to see him more clearly.
“My name is Sherman,” he replied.

Elias took a deep breath and said, “You know, Sherman, I really like this smell. It’s so
relaxing. What is it called?” Just then, the room began to spin in circles. With a hypnotic
tone, Sherman responded, “Essence of Zendara.”

Elias, slurring slightly, asked, “Where can I get it?”

“I’ll have it delivered to you, my prince,” Sherman answered.
Elias smiled, “How nice.” Moments later, he collapsed to the floor, landing next to the
little cat, Centra. In a mumbled voice, his last words before everything went dark were,
“What a cute cat,” as Centra licked his nose.

Chapter: 21

Got It in a Dream

Elias opened his eyes, awakened by the hustle and bustle of a busy street. He found
himself sitting on a crate and soon heard the voice of a man approaching him. “How are

you, young prince?” Elias looked up and recognized a familiar face: it was Jacob, the
owner of the woodshop.

“Where am I?” Elias asked, glancing around. “Where is the book store? And how did I
get here?”

Jacob replied, “What book store? You’ve been sleeping here since I opened. I didn’t want
to disturb you.”

Elias stood up, confused and looked around. “I could have sworn this street was
abandoned and that your shop wasn’t here.”

Jacob smiled and said, “Young prince, you’ve been coming here since you were a little
boy. By the way, congratulations on your victory at the Millennium Games! It was
spectacular. I see you have a new Kimmo fighting stick. It looks very durable.”

Elias responded, “What stick?”

Jacob pointed to the item next to him and said, “The one sitting next to you. May I look
at it?” He reached out and picked it up. “This is a fine piece of workmanship—very old,
dense and well-balanced. Where did you get it?”

Elias shook his head, still trying to gather his thoughts. “I’m not sure. I think I got it in a
dream.”

Chapter: 22

The Young Maiden
Elias looked up and noticed the light fading—the sun had already begun its descent.
According to what Jacob told him he must’ve slept the whole day away but how is that
possible? His father’s warning echoed in his mind: “Don’t stay out too late.”
Jacob had strapped Elias’s new Kimmo stick to a leather sling, securing it at both ends
so it could rest across his back. After saying his goodbyes, Elias started toward home,
though a strange uneasiness from earlier still lingered.
He pulled the stick from his shoulder, letting it spin naturally into his palms. It felt solid,
Balanced.
But where had it truly come from?
He rejected the answer forming in his mind.
The scent of incense still clung to his clothes.
“The Essence of Zendara.
That’s what the mysterious shopkeeper had called it.” Elias knew he would never forget
that smell—so ancient, so haunting.
As he walked down the street, he kept saying to himself. ” It was just a dream.” He didn’t
believe in spirits.
“It had to be. Just a dream. But how about the stick? Where did that come from? Jacob
must’ve been making a joke. It was one of his. Of course that’s the answer, there’s no
such thing as spirits.”
A breeze swept across his face, cooling the tip of his nose. When he touched it, it felt wet.
“Oh yeah,” he muttered with a smile, “that’s where Centra licked me before. What!!! No,
no!!… as he turned the corner and continued to talk to himself out of what could not
have happened.

He noticed a large apple tree with its branches stretched over a knee-high stone wall
filled with fresh water. The apples looked ripe and ready for picking but Elias was not
hungry. He still carried the cobwebs in his head.”Maybe a splash of cold water would do
me some good.”
He knelt, leaned forward and submerged his head into the cool fresh water. While
splashing water over his neck and down his arms he heard a voice from under the water.
“It’s not a bathtub, you know.”
He said to himself, “oh no, I’m hearing things again.”
Elias jerked upright, dripping water, dreadlocks plastered all over his face. He pushed
them aside and peaked through cautiously.
Standing before him was the most beautiful young woman he had ever laid eyes on.
As he scrambled to his feet, his wet dreadlocks flew into the air and accidentally
splashed the young maiden.
“Oh! She snapped,”Can’t you be more careful?”
Elias smiled, angelically. Even annoyed, she was breathtaking.
“You know you’re not supposed to soak your head in water that people drink.” she
scolded.
Elias put his hand over his heart,bowed his head in acknowledgment.“Please forgive me.
I didn’t realize. I’m not from around here,” Elias said, as he tried to sound sincere while
the water continued to drip down his face.
“Well, it’s not sanitary,” she huffed, turning her back as she filled her pail. The water was
heavy; she struggled to lift it.
Elias stepped forward.
“Excuse me again… I really feel bad. Let me help you.”

She lifted the pail with both hands and staggered away.
“Does it look like I need your help?” she grunted.
“Well…” he said playfully, “someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t be carrying something
so heavy. Please—allow me.”
He reached for the bucket. A brief tug-of-war followed until she finally surrendered it
with a frustrated sigh.
“So,” Elias asked lightly, “which way are we going?”
The maiden pointed down a dirt path, trying not to look at him. They walked together.
She eyed him up and down, finally noticing the Kimmo stick strapped to his back.
“Where do you come from? You look and act like a barbarian,” she said bluntly.
Elias grinned.
“Well, even barbarians have manners.”
She led him to a fork in the road and stopped. Elias set the bucket gently at her feet.
“Do you live around here?”
“Just over the ridge,” she replied, glancing nervously toward the hill. “My father is very
strict. If he saw me talking to a barbarian, I’d be in a lot of trouble.”
“Well then,” Elias said with a nod, “I definitely wouldn’t want that to happen.”
She grabbed the bucket and hurried up the hill. Elias called after her:
“When will I see you again?”
She tried to hide the smile tugging at her lips. She thought he was cute. And a little bit of
a troublemaker—which she liked.

“Probably never,” she said, “but I come to the water hole every other day around this
time.”
With that, she disappeared over the ridge.
Elias stood there, grinning proudly to himself. He strutted back down the path toward
the apple tree, muttering triumphantly:
You see? You create your own destiny. Magic—my foot.”
No sooner had Elias declared his victory over the invisible forces of the universe, the
universe answered back. A gust of wind rustled through the towering apple tree. With
perfect precision, a single ripe apple freed itself, plummeted with purpose, and struck
Elias squarely on the big toe.
“OW!” he shrieked, hopping in frantic circles like a one-man tribal dance. “Oh, come on!
Someone definitely threw that! All right—very funny! Show yourself! Face me like a
man!”
Silence.
The wind kept blowing.
The tree kept swaying.
His toe kept throbbing.
Determined to catch his mysterious attacker, Elias sprinted to the nearest corner,
leaping out with a heroic “HA!”—only to find absolutely nothing. He checked a nearby
doorway. Empty. And then another, still nothing. Just the whispering trees, the drifting
breeze… and one very offended big toe.
He paused, glanced over his shoulder with dramatic intensity, and warned the empty
road, “I’ll be back.”

With all the dignity a limping man can muster, he strutted down the path, rubbing his
wounded foot between winces. Behind him, unnoticed, the Kimmo stick on his back
released a soft shimmer—tiny sparks of misty dust ran through the stick and slowly
faded into the whispers of the wind.
Even when you can’t see it…
Even when you don’t believe in it…
Magic has a way.

Chapter: 23

Pretty penny
A month had passed,as the Night enveloped the Baron’s field office, but a restless light
still emanated from his tent. In the cargo area, outgoing merchandise was neatly stacked
in crates and burlap sacks, ready for shipment. The Baron sat hunched over his desk,
reviewing the latest tallies from Valdemar’s manifest—a list encompassing sold goods,
unsold wares, purchase orders, and the mixed assortment of worthless trinkets he had
managed to extract from the local villages. Negotiations with the King and his staff were
ongoing, but he wanted to stay informed about his financial situation.
Some of the traded items were easy to transport, while others were perishable goods
that needed to be stored in a cool, dry area of the cargo hold of The Eirrn. It was
crucial to ship these perishable items out as soon as possible for distribution at the next
port; otherwise, they could spoil and become worthless—something the Baron would
never allow to happen.
By the time he finished crunching the numbers, his profits were considerable. Any
reasonable merchant would have been pleased.
But the Baron was not a reasonable man.

A calculating smile curled his lips. “Valdemar is doing a sufficient job. At least the boy
knows how to make a coin.
My plan seems to be working. Valdemar has extended our stay, which is exactly what I
hoped for.”
He stood, pacing slowly, his shadow slithering across the canvas of the tent. His eyes
glimmered with cold satisfaction. “Good. That means I can now turn my attention to
something far more valuable.”
He whispered, savoring each word, “The forbidden treasure. The transporter at Port
Town wasn’t lying—I can feel it.” The Baron opened his leather-bound notebook,
running a finger along the scribbled notes and fragments of rumors.
“A treasure that is old, yet must be connected to some legend or folktale. There has to be
some written record or manuscript. There are always fearful natives willing to whisper
secrets for a coin or two. My instincts tell me that with a few kind words, some
well-placed illusions, and sincere gestures, I will uncover the path to the Mountain of
the Moon.” His smile widened, sharklike. “And nobody or nothing will stand in my way.”

Chapter: 24
Map on deck

The Baron strolled through the hustle and bustle of the town square in the kingdom city
on the outskirts of the palace. The streets buzzed with the sounds of buying and
selling—food, merchandise, and spiritual guidance. There seemed to be a self
proclaimed shaman on every corner ready to tell you your fortune. Everything was for
sale, everything you could possibly want, except for what the Baron was searching for:
information.

His keen eyes scanned the crowd as he discreetly asked his questions. Despite his best
efforts to blend in, he stood out like a badly dressed elephant at a flea circus, drawing
curious glances from the townsfolk as he tried to gather the information he needed.

Realizing he wasn’t getting anywhere on his own, he hired a guide and translator to act
as his front man. However, news of his inquiries had already spread, and even the
translator was unable to extract any useful information.

There was no luck. Every answer was either a shrug, a confused stare, or a polite but
firm, “We don’t speak of such places.” Most city folk weren’t willing to discuss the
northern region, a land far beyond the main city, high in the upper hills. The few who
had heard anything whispered rumors about missing people and strange happenings,
then quickly changed the subject, pretending they had somewhere important to be.

The northern villages were different—older, more spiritual, and less influenced by the
modern world and seem to be his only choice. If any ancient truths existed—old legends,
hidden trails, or forbidden stories—those people would know. If the Baron wanted to
make this trip worthwhile he would have to head north and take his chances there with
what little time he had left.

With profit, glory, and the promise of treasure urging him forward, he decided on an
expedition straight into the foothills on the north side of the Mountains of the Moon.
Supplies were gathered for a two-week trek that would end back at the ship. Although
his translator and guide would navigate the region, the Baron knew he needed more
than that. He required a pair of loyal cutthroats—men who wouldn’t ask questions and
wouldn’t hesitate to follow his commands.

The Baron asked for volunteers who didn’t have a choice, and that’s when Taulie and
Shorty stepped forward, while the rest of the crew stepped back. Best friends.
Inseparable. And hopeless. The two believed that volunteering might finally win them
back the captain’s favor after a history of recent accidents that made the baron furious—

like the time;
● Shortly mopped the Baron’s freshly polished boots while he was still wearing
them,
● And when Taulie fed his favorite parrot an oversized nut that was too big to
swallow, sending the poor bird to parrot heaven,
just to name a few.

The nicknames clearly represented what they looked like. Taulie was tall and lanky, and
Shorty was short and fat.
However, that didn’t mean they weren’t capable—they were good sailors and had been
part of his crew for many voyages. This was a difficult decision for the Baron. Maybe
they weren’t the brightest pennies in his pocket, but they were loyal and followed orders.
He’d also be right there to prevent them from accidentally doing something foolish, like
running into a beehive or getting lost in the wilderness.

“Fine,” the Baron grumbled. “Let’s get to it.” He pointed his fingers with authority for
the two men to start packing.

However, even with the guide leading them north, the Baron still needed one thing: a
map. Not just any map—a very old one. Something ancient enough to reveal hidden
paths or long-erased trails. Where could a man find a map like that? Something
centuries old? Something the kingdom itself might have forgotten?
The Baron tapped his fingers against his chin. He needed a map… and there was one
very tempting place where such maps might be found: the King’s archives. A slow,
wicked grin crept across his face.

“Well now,” he murmured, “looks like we’ll be paying the royals a little visit…”

Chapter: 25

The Baron’s attention

Valdemar stood in the cargo bay office , studying the ship’s manifest while speaking
quietly with Saba. Dagger lay comfortably in Saba’s lap, enjoying the steady rhythm of
her hand—until footsteps pounded down the hall.
Dagger lifted her head. It was the Baron, stomping toward the door. She had never liked
him; something in him always set her on edge.
In an instant, Dagger sprang up and wrapped herself around the back of Saba’s neck.
Saba touched her gently. “Are you OK?”
Dagger answered with a sharp, disapproving ferret sound, never taking her eyes off the
Baron.
Similar to Dagger, Sabra too had an invoice that stirred a sense of unease within her.

He entered and immediately focused on Valdemar. “I will speak with you alone,” giving
Saba a stiff nod. “Of course Father,” Valdemar replied.
“I will be going away for a couple of weeks on a small expedition,” the Baron continued.
“I expect you to gather the remaining crew and make all necessary arrangements for the
new cargo and trade goods we have received from these nice people.”
He leaned toward Saba with a forced smile. She returned it with one just as forced. As
soon as he turned back to Valdemar, the smile vanished.
“Place the perishables in the hold for safekeeping, tie down the cargo, and prepare to set
sail ,” he ordered.

Valdemar shifted nervously. “OK, Father. I’ll meet you back at the ship in two weeks,
but… there’s something we need to discuss.”
He glanced at Saba, his eyes soft with affection. She met his gaze warmly.
“No time for talk now,” the Baron said sharply. “Get to work. We’ll discuss it back at the
ship.” With that, he hurried away.
Saba watched him go. “He’s in a hurry. What kind of expedition is it?”
“I’m not sure,” Valdemar said. “He didn’t say.”
“That’s unusual,” Saba murmured. “I wonder where he’s going.”

Chapter: 26

The ink
The Baron returned to his sleeping quarters to gather his belongings, ready to make a
swift exit after visiting the King’s archives. “Quick visit in, quick visit out,” he told
himself proudly, patting himself on the back with that usual arrogance that convinced
him he was sharper than most. “I’ll move like a snake, quiet and slow, and ready to
strike. They’ll never know I was ever there.”
His field office was not far from the archives, tucked in the cargo bay. When they first
arrived, they had been given a full tour of the palace grounds. He recalled passing the
archive preservation office, the guide rambling on about its national importance in a
monotone rhythm, as if he had done this a hundred times.
“All these precious historical documents are kept in this room for safekeeping and will
eventually be exhibited in the new museum… This area is off-limits to the
public,”pointing nonchalantly to the sign marked “Authorized Personnel Only.”
To the Baron, restrictions were merely suggestions, a prompt for him to be more
cautious. The area may have been well-guarded, but he already had a plan. He had been
stealing his whole life, and if there were clues hidden in those maps—ancient paths,
forgotten trails—he intended to find them.
He moved toward the archive room, slipping behind stacks of cargo. Guards patrolled
the warehouse routinely, their heavy boots echoing off the stone floor. He watched,
timed, and waited. When the guards disappeared around a far column, he moved.
The room appeared empty from the small window. Workers were bustling about,
carrying heavy sacks on their shoulders and dropping them in various locations, too far
away to notice him.

He stood in front of the door next to the window, facing the busy cargo dock, and
inconspicuously reached behind his back to see if the door was unlocked. He turned the
handle gently and let out a sigh of relief as he opened it and slipped inside.
The room was filled with shelves, a desk in the middle, and two chairs. Old parchment
paper lined the shelves. One side was filled with religious documents, while others were
stacked with maps and manuscripts. Some were specifically wrapped in wooden
capsules that were extremely old, while others were rolled up and tied with string. Paper
and ink pens sat on the table, as if someone had been working there. It seemed they
were creating some sort of details for the extension of the new wing.
He checked his watch, estimating the time he had between the guards’ rounds.
With that, he started foraging through the manuscripts and maps, laying them out on
the table. Pulling up a chair, he sat at the desk and began studying. Many of these
documents hadn’t been touched in years. Religious symbols and scriptures written by
hand were still relatively intact, likely dating back decades, or even centuries. As he read
through their history and prophecies, he whispered to himself, “Who would believe this
nonsense about spirits, ghosts, and prophets? Ridiculous.”
Finally, he discovered something valuable: a fragile capsule containing ancient maps. He
carefully unrolled the maps and laid them flat on the table. Some of the maps depicted
the rainforest, while others outlined the eastern open plains. However, one particular
map stood out among all the others. It was older, worn and incomplete, but it had the
information he was looking for.

It depicted a winding path around the side of the Mountain of the Moon. The route was
unmistakable, tracing the contours of the Kinshasa River and leading to a destination
atop a distant plateau.
In the corner of the fragile parchment, barely visible were Adinkra symbols and
encrypted writing with initials “SW.” Unfortunately, the starting point was missing and
many of the symbols explaining navigational directions—either torn away or crumbled
to dust over the centuries.
According to the remnants of the map, the journey led deep into the heart of the dense
rainforest to the north.

The Baron sat back in his chair, contemplating. He might be a sea lover, but he had
enough common sense to know that a rainforest could be a dangerous place, if not
lethal. Even with an experienced tracker, he wasn’t willing to take the chance of getting
lost, especially knowing he had limited time.

The meanings of the Adinkra symbols and the encrypted words were unfamiliar to him.
The Baron stroked his chin thoughtfully and said, “If I could only find the key to
deciphering these symbols, it might help me identify the starting point and the
navigational directions I need.” He rummaged through the other manuscripts crowding
the shelves beside him, desperately searching for anything that could clarify their cryptic
meanings. Although he compared various documents that looked familiar, he found
nothing useful.

“I’ll need to make a copy of these ancient symbols and words before they disintegrate
further from the edges of this map. I’ll quickly write them in my journal and work on
deciphering them when I have more time.” As an experienced linguist and philologist,
the Baron knew that it could take time—perhaps even years—to uncover their meanings
without the key.

He pulled a blank sheet of parchment paper off the pile, then reached into his jacket for
his pen—he always carried one. It was a custom-made nautical tool with a fine tip,
designed to his specifications, perfect for map work.
Dipping it into the ink bowl, he began illustrating the ancient symbols into his journal.
He had to move fast. Whoever was in here would be coming back soon.
As he shuffled through some of the papers on top of the table preparing to return them
where he found them, when he noticed something that shocked him. His eyes opened
wide. He said, “what is this? How could this be? Why is there a freshly drawn crest of
the royal family from my homeland? Who’s been digging into my past and why?
Time vanished.
Footsteps.
The Baron froze.
He checked his watch again —too much time had passed. The guards were making their
rounds again.
In his panic, his hand jerked,—
The ink bowl tipped.
Black liquid rushed across the table, swallowing the fragile manuscripts. It dripped over
the edges, splattering on his hands, staining his sleeve. He tried to stop it, but it was too
late; the ancient papers drank the ink like thirsty ground.
He had seconds—only seconds.
He rolled up the map and slid it into his jacket.
He abandoned everything else.

He slipped out of the door—leaving it slightly ajar—and hurried back toward the cargo
piles, unaware that droplets of ink trailed behind him like breadcrumbs leading straight
to his hiding place.
The warrior guard approached moments later, eyes sharp. He noticed the open archive
door immediately and called for his supervisor. The supervisor examined the room,and
with an assertive tone said, “we’ve had a break in,fetch Saba.”
The Baron carefully watched from his vantage point.
Saba arrived quickly, still dusted with the work of organizing new cargo. She listened to
the guard’s rushed whispers, then entered the archive room alone.
She stopped cold.
Someone had been at her desk.
And the intruder had turned the room upside down searching for something.
Ink drenched manuscripts. Maps she curated by hand—ruined. A preservation capsule
lay cracked open, its contents gone. These documents were irreplaceable, deeply tied to
the history of her people. She felt a sting in her chest.
As she lifted a soaked manuscript, a pen slipped out and hit the table.
She didn’t recognize it.
Ink-stained.
Marked with nautical engravings.
A ship etched into its shaft.
She wiped it clean and inspected it closely, lifted it up to the light. This was a clue—and a
bold one.

The Baron’s stomach tightened. Instinctively, he reached for the pen that should’ve been
in his pocket.
It wasn’t.
The Baron, now panicked. Quickly pulled out his spy glass, extended it, putting it to his
eye. Saba turned the pen in her fingers up against the light. Something glitched on her
finger. It immediately piqued his interest as he focused on it , he got the answer that he
was looking for.
It was the ring. He could see the crest of the royal family from his homeland. He
recognized it immediately. “Where could she have possibly gotten that ring:”
Saba was distraught as she examined the documents carefully. “These cannot be
replaced. The damage done today is a crime against our country.” She wrapped the pen
in a white cloth. “Guard this door day and night. The intruder will have ink stains on
their hands and clothes. It will not wash off easily.”
“They won’t get far,” she said, her voice tight with controlled anger.
When she locked the door, she noticed something the men hadn’t—
Drops of ink.
Leading away.
She followed the trail across the cargo bay, her eyes sharp and trained.
The Baron ducked.
She motioned to her guards.
“Follow me.”
They rounded the burlap bags.
A puddle of ink.

No intruder.
“They were here,” Saba said, inspecting the smears on the sacks. “They tried to wipe the
stains off before running.” Her brow furrowed. “I will get to the bottom of this invasion.”
Outside the cargo doors, the Baron fled, jacket balled up tightly under his arm to hide
the stains. He heard everything Saba said, and his anger flared as he ran.
“That girl is too smart,” he hissed. “She’ll have me in irons before I know it.
I need a plan, fast.
Before the prince returned.”

Chapter: 27
The vow
Valdemar pushed open the heavy doors of the cargo bay, scanning the dim space until
he spotted Saba. She stood locked in a tense conversation with the supervisor, her brow
drawn tight with worry. The sight of her like that sent a ripple of urgency through him.
He waited, watching every shift in her expression, wishing he could shield her from
whatever troubled her.
The supervisor finally stepped away, and Valdemar approached her gently. “Are you
okay?” he asked, his voice soft, filled with concern.
Saba let out a quiet breath, attempting to mask her turmoil. “Something happened
today… but I’m okay,” she replied, trying to steady herself.
Valdemar could tell that something significant had happened in the archive room,
evidenced by the two guards blocking the door.
In a concerned tone, Valdemar asked, “do you wanna talk about it?”

She smiled faintly. “I’ll tell you later.” She had her suspicions about who was behind the
incident but wanted to wait until she had more information before confiding in him.
Valdemar glanced at the two guards standing close in their vicinity, and said, “Could we
go somewhere private to talk?” Saba, obviously still shaken, nodded. “Sure, of course,”
she replied, as they walked to a quieter corner where no one could overhear them.
Valdemar said, “ whatever it is, we can face it together.” Saba reached up and gently
placed her hands on his face to ease his concern. “I’m okay. I promise I’ll be fine.”
He took her small, delicate hand in his, his grip firm yet tender. “I’ve been thinking
about this carefully, and I realize now, what I really want.”
“I’m going to tell my father that I’m not shipping out with him.”
Saba’s heart raced at his words. She turned away, avoiding eye contact, hesitating before
asking, “You’ll give up your whole life for me? You can’t do that. Your future is on that
ship. You love the sea.”
Valdemar replied, “I also love you.” He looked out the cargo doors to the open farmland,
and with a melancholy tone said, “I have to admit at first it might be a little tough being
land-bound, but…” then he added, his voice brightening, “eventually I’ll get my own
ship, and we’ll sail together. You know everything there is to know about buying and
trading goods, and I know everything about the sea. We’ll make the perfect couple. We
can sail the seas together. This isn’t the end; it’s just the beginning!”
Saba turned back and placed both hands lovingly on his chest. “Are you really sure you
want to make this sacrifice?”
Valdemar’s expression shifted to determination. “This isn’t a sacrifice; it’s a reward for
the privilege of being part of your life.” She was humbled by his words.
She put her hand over her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. “No one has ever done
anything like this for me.”

She removed the scarf from around her neck. “This was a cherished gift from my father
to my mother on their wedding day.” She draped it around Valdemar’s neck and tied it.
“I vow my love to you, Valdemar, and promise to be your wife and stand by your side
through sickness and health for the rest of my living days, and beyond. She wiped the
tears from her eyes and continued, “For I do love you.”
In a sudden, tender gesture, he took her hand—the one adorned with the ring he had
given her. “I gave you this ring because it’s the only possession I own that means
anything to me until I met you.” Valdemar sank to one knee, his eyes shining with
commitment as he held her hand.
“With this ring, I vow my love to you, Saba. With all my heart, I promise to stand by
your side as your husband, to protect you with my life from this day until the end of my
days and beyond.”
The workers in the cargo bay started to close the double doors, pushing them together
on either side as Valdemar and Saba stood in the center. They stepped into each other’s
arms, like a painting frozen in time, holding one another with a love that felt both
ancient and brand new. Together, they sealed their vows in an unbreakable promise,
ready to face whatever lay ahead.

Chapter: 28
Dagger’s fear’s
The next day, Saba sat impatiently in a chair in Valdemar’s tent, quiet yet deeply
concerned, as she watched him pack a light satchel for his two-week work detail on the
Erron. She had taken the day off just to spend time with him before he left. Dagger was
perched in her usual spot on Valdemar’s shoulder. Saba felt uncomfortable and knew
she needed to express her feelings.

“I know you have to go, but I sense danger,” she said. Valdemar was busy pushing a shirt
into his bag. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll be fine. I’ll make my father understand that I’m a
grown man and he can’t stop me. I’ll be back before you know it. I’m leaving Dagger
with you—she will protect you. Won’t you, Dagger?”
Dagger seemed uncomfortable too, opening her eyes wide and squeaking loudly in a
little negative voice. Valdemar took Dagger off his shoulder and placed her gently in
Saba’s lap. With a melancholy expression, Saba began to stroke Dagger gently. Valdemar
looked down at the little creature. “I’ll miss you, little one. I’m putting you in charge of
the most valuable thing in my life,” glancing at Saba.
Saba put Dagger down on the pillow next to her and suddenly stood up, holding
Valdemar tightly. “Don’t go. I can’t explain it; I feel like I’m not going to see you again.”
Valdemar hugged her back tightly. After a moment, Saba released him and walked to the
back of the tent, reaching into her pocket. Pulling out the white cloth with the pen
inside, she unwrapped it and showed it to Valdemar.
“Have you ever seen this before?” she asked. Valdemar looked at the pen. “Of course. It
belongs to my father.”
Saba muttered under her breath, “I knew it.” Valdemar asked, “You knew what? Where
did you find it?” Saba hesitated, thinking, “If I tell Valdemar what I suspect, it might
stop him from leaving. But he’s a proud man, he would demand the truth,and he would
confront his father. That could lead to a heated argument and maybe even a violent
confrontation. The Baron would never give himself up, and with his loyal crew behind
him, he outnumbered Valdemar. He could get hurt. As long as the Baron is on his ship,
he is untouchable. I need to get the Baron on African soil before he steps foot back on
the Erron.
Saba had an idea. Valdemar had said that in two weeks, the Erron should be ready to
ship out. She would get there a day before the Baron. With the approval of Prince Elias
and the aid of his personal guard, she would capture the Baron red-handed, ink stains
on his jacket and hands. Hopefully, she could catch him before he boarded the Erron so

that Valdemar would be safe. With obvious evidence in hand, the Baron would have to
address the charges against him.
She hated to keep this from Valdemar, but it was for his own good. She would
accomplish two things: protect Valdemar and bring justice to her people. The Baron was
a dangerous man, and she had no idea what he was capable of. Finally, she replied to
Valdemar, “No, nothing important. I found it on the floor in the cargo bay. I just liked it.
I didn’t know it belonged to anyone. Do you think it would be OK if I held onto it for a
while?”
Valdemar smiled. “I’m sure you can keep it if you like. He has many different types in
his quarters. He’s been getting them custom-made for a long time. I don’t think he’ll
mind.”
Saba looked at the pen, gratitude filling her eyes. “Thank you, my love. Maybe I could
give it back to him personally; I would very much enjoy that.” Secretly knowing inside
what she really meant to do.
Valdemar chuckled softly. “That might be a little difficult. I don’t think he’s coming back
to Kingdom City until his next voyage. Who knows, maybe he’ll be a grandfather by
then.”
He hugged her passionately and kissed her goodbye, picking up his satchel and placing
his hat on his head. “I’ll be back, hopefully in a little more than two weeks, and we will
start a new life together, I promise.” He walked out the door, glancing back at her one
last time. Valdemar lovingly touched the scarf around his neck that she had given him.
With a concerned expression, Saba touched the ring on her finger as she watched him
walk away.
Saba picked up Dagger and hugged her tightly against her face. “I hope everything’s
going to be OK,” she whispered. Dagger watched Valdemar through the window, making
his way down the road, also sensing that this might be the last time she would see her
master.

Chapter: 29

With a heavy hand
After the Baron’s near disaster in the cargo bay, he raced across the vast African plains,
determined to put as much distance as possible between himself and the King’s Palace.
His two crewmates struggled under the weight of heavy gear strapped to their backs,
while the Baron and his guide carried lighter packs filled with loose papers, a compass,
and a collection of worn navigational tools. The Baron took special care to protect the
fragile old map, tucking it securely inside his jacket within one of his sturdy leather
tubes, just like he did with his other treasured maps aboard the ship.
The open plains stretched endlessly before them—beautiful yet treacherous. In the
distance, dark clouds convened, painting the sky in deep shades of gray. Eerie tendrils of
lightning flickered far away, while thunder rolled within the brooding clouds like a
slumbering beast. Rain was an omen on the lips of any sailor… but not on the breath of
the African plains.
Shorty wiped sweat from his brow. “Lightning and thunder without rain—what kind of
place is this?”
“Could certainly use a downpour,” Taulie grumbled. “It’s hot enough to fry a fish on a
shovel.”
Shorty staggered beneath the weight of his pack. “In all my years at sea, I’ve never gazed
upon skies like these.”
The Guide turned towards them, a mischievous smile on his lips. “There’s an ancient
legend that whispers through these lands. When lightning flashes and thunder rumbles

without rain, the rival twin Queens emerge to haunt these undulating plains. Raiten, the
Dark Queen, seeks her legion of zombie warriors as she hunts for her sister, the Noble
Queen Kendra.”
Shorty swallowed hard. “Zombies?”
The Guide leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “If she senses your
fear, the Dark Queen will strike with lightning, scoop up your souls with a gust of wind,
transforming you into one of her warrior zombies for all eternity.”
Tallie, gazing at the horizon rather than watching his step, stumbled over a jagged rock
and dropped to one knee…
“Zombies?” Shorty squeaked, his face growing pale and sweaty.
Taulie groaned. “I warned you this place was creepy. I wish we were back aboard the
ship.”
Shorty nodded vigorously. “Land is no place for sea lovers like us.”
The Guide halted abruptly, turned, and lowered his voice further. “The twin Queens
clashed in an epic battle on this very ground thousands of years ago. With the aid of the
five prophet gods, Raiten was vanquished. She vowed never to find rest until she
achieved her revenge. So she buried her army, waiting for the right time to raise them
from their cursed imprisonment.
It is said that not a single drop of blood was ever shed.”
Shorty’s voice wavered with trepidation. “Well… she should rest. She’s probably
exhausted.”
“Taulie rubbed the back of his neck. “How does one wage a war without blood?”
A blinding flash tore through the heavens overhead, instantly followed by a
bone-shaking roar. The Guide recited an eerie rhyme.

“When the clouds separate from dark to light,
the souls she claims prepare to fight.
Blood will be spilled where my rival has won.
The battle may be lost, but the war has just begun…”
The Guide gestured toward the distant clouds. “If you look deeply enough, you might see
them coming. Look!” He chuckled softly and continued on his path.
As another flash ignited the sky, Taulie and Shorty stared, entranced, into the swirling
clouds. Their expressions were hypnotized as they beheld the illusion: the clouds twisted
into the shapes of two fierce warriors on rearing horses, one dark as the night, the other
luminous as dawn, mirroring the eternal struggle between Kendra and Raiten.
Startled, they clutched each other and called out, “Captain! Captain! They’re coming!”
The Baron finally snapped. “You nimwits—it’s a fairytale. An old legend, like mermaids
in the deep. It doesn’t mean anything.”
It means nothing.” He growled, “Stop gawking. If you trip and break your neck, I’ll grind
your bones and put them in my rum. Now move!!!.”
The sailors, more afraid of the captain, then any ghost story, snapped to attention. “Yes,
Captain!”
The Guide handed a map to the Baron. “Captain, I’ve charted our path. We’ll head
northwest into the valley, paralleling the rainforest, and then straight up north.”
The Baron tore the map in half without a moment’s hesitation. He retrieved a folded
paper from his pack and thrust it at the Guide. “This is the map we’re following. Learn it.
Memorize it. If you have questions, ask me. We need to reach the far north.”
The Guide frowned, concerned with flickering in his eyes. “Captain… This route climbs
steeply through the rocky hills. It’s a treacherous ascent.”

The Baron did not glance back. “Is it a more direct route?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“And if someone were following us—which they’re not—wouldn’t those hills shroud us
from their sight?”
The Guide exhaled heavily. “Yes. That would be true.”
“Then our conversation is over.”
He pocketed the map but knew the truth—the only reason for navigating the hills was to
stay hidden. He could not shake the unease that Saba might have dispatched a war party
after him. She was far too clever. And his sleeve still bore blotches of ink, as did his
hands. No matter how he’d scrubbed, the stains remained.
The weight of the stolen manuscript in his jacket felt heavier with every passing mile. He
had no intention of surrendering it. He knew too well the fate that awaited him. If he
didn’t uncover the treasure on this journey, he could always return, which meant he
couldn’t afford to let Valdimar go. He may not have been welcome, but Valdemar would
be. All this trouble—Saba was to blame. That meddlesome girl had jeopardized
everything. She would need to be dealt with.
Night fell swiftly, blanketing the land in shadows. The men, drained and weary,
collapsed as soon as they dropped their packs. Shorty’s feet jutted out of the tent,
wiggling rhythmically with each labored snore, while Taulie’s breathing so strongly
flickered the lit lantern.
The Baron sat at his field desk, methodically transcribing the stolen maps into his
journal. He combined elements from all three maps to create one cohesive version of his
own. While many of the symbols were impossible to decipher, he recognized some of the
words had roots in ancient languages, which he understood.
As he studied the map, he began to realize that these words were not directions but
rather warnings. Highlighted on the fragile document was a mysterious gray area at the

base of the mountain, indicating a shrouded region that acted as a divide. According to
his interpretation, the map suggested a way to navigate around this treacherous area. If
only he possessed the remaining symbols, he might be able to complete the map.
With the old map now a burden rather than a treasure, a sense of urgency washed over
him. Clenching it tightly in his fist, he pondered the best way to dispose of this relic that
had once guided him but now threatened his very existence. The longer it remained in
his possession, the greater the risk of exposure. And then, in a flash of brilliance, a
nefarious plan took root in his mind—an exhilarating scheme that promised not only to
rid him of the map but also to eliminate all of his troubles at once. The thrill of the idea
sent adrenaline coursing through his veins as he set his sights on a daring escape from
the chaos that had consumed him.

Chapter: 30

The word of a Chief

The Baron rose at daybreak, his eyes snapping open before the first birds stirred. He
climbed to the crest of a nearby ridge and settled on a flat, sun-warmed stone—though it
was not the sunrise he’d come to admire. From this higher ground, the open plains
stretched for miles in every direction. If anyone was following, he would see them long
before they saw him.
He scanned the horizon in silence. Nothing but wind brushing through tall grass, the
faint shimmer of morning light on distant rocks, and the slow unfurling of another hot
day.

At last, he exhaled.“No signs of anyone,” he muttered. “Maybe they’re not coming. Or
perhaps Saba didn’t have the authority to act. She’ll have to wait for the prince’s return…
and that won’t be for at least a week.”
A slight, satisfied smirk tugged at his mouth.
“That buys me time,” he said, folding his arms. “Time to devise a proper plan.”
They broke camp at first light and pushed north, crossing into lands uncharted on any
map. Passing through small villages, the locals greeted them cautiously at first, curious
about the strangers, but their curiosity soon shifted to unease—especially when the
Baron pressed too firmly for information.
The Guide listened to the village’s conversation and translated it to the captain,
“Captain, we must go to the main capital village and request permission to be in this
territory. We are strangers in a strange place. Word has already spread—they know
we’re here. If we don’t visit the Chief, they will track us down… and you know what that
means.”
Shorty froze. “No, I don’t! What does that mean?
Taulie added, “Are we supposed to guess?!”
The Baron, studying his map said. “Shut up, don’t think, unless I tell you to think.
Turning his attention to the guide. “OK, so we’ll go visit the chief. Does anybody know
how to get there? ?
Just then, four large Warriors with spares and machetes surrounded them. The guide
responded nervously, “I think these guys know.”
Now being escorted, they follow the warriors through some rainforest brush, into a
shallow River, and up a steep hill finally revealing an enormous village,one that
resembled an ancient city, alive with thousands of people moving through its packed
earthen streets. Before they even reached the heart of it, they were surrounded by more
grim-faced warriors carrying spears and leather bound colorful shields. Without a word,

the warriors forced them into formation and escorted them through the crowds straight
toward the Chief’s hut.
The Baron shushed Taulie and Shorty and said, “Whatever you do, don’t touch anything.
Stand behind us, quietly. And try to stop shaking—it’s making the native’s nervous.”
They reached the Chief—a broad, imposing man seated upon an oversized woven
throne. His expression was fierce and impatient, as though he’d been waiting all
morning just to be annoyed by them. This Chief governed not only the great capital but
every surrounding village for miles. Nothing in this region happened without his
approval.
His throne was crafted from wicker and adorned with a symbol of a line through a
circle—his devotion to the way of the crystal. Feathers, beads, carved bones, and a
towering headdress crowned him in a display of absolute authority. At his side, his
assistant whispered rapidly while pointing directly at the Baron and his crew.
The Baron leaned toward the Guide. “What do you think they’re talking about?”
The Guide whispered back, deadpan, “Sounds like they want to have us for dinner.”
The Baron sighed in relief. “Well, that’s not too bad.”
The Guide turned slowly, eyes wide. “Captain… We are the dinner.”
The Baron blinked twice at the Guide. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
The Guide jerked his chin toward the Chief. “Look at his face. I might be kidding… but
he’s not.”
The Chief stared at the Baron with a flat, humorless expression. The Guide stepped
forward to speak with him, and the brief exchange was sharp, tense, and clearly
unfriendly. When the Guide returned, he translated in a low voice:
“He’s angry. He didn’t appreciate us visiting the smaller villages without his permission.
Give me something of value—quickly.”

The Baron dug desperately through his pockets until his fingers closed around a small
white pearl. His good-luck charm. He hesitated, lips tightening like a child giving up her
favorite doll. But there was no choice. He stepped forward to offer the pearl directly—
—and immediately a spear pressed against his throat.
The Baron froze, hands in the air. “All right, all right!”
He backed away, letting the Guide take the pearl instead. The Guide spoke respectfully,
presenting the treasure. The Chief examined it, his face finally softening with
satisfaction.
He barked a command. The Guide translated:
“He says we may stay for a little while… but he wants it understood that his spirit power
is greater than ours.”
The Chief stomped a passing beetle, then boomed another message. The Guide added,
“He says he could squash us like a bug at any time.”
The Baron’s smile was stiff. “Thanks for sharing. I had that part figured out.”
Still smiling and bowing, the Baron backed away. The Chief turned the pearl in his hand,
admiring it—until his advisor leaned in too closely. Without hesitation, the Chief
smacked the man on his neck, knocking him to the dusty ground. Only he would admire
the pearl first.
The Guide leaned in again. “Captain, there are places here we are not welcome,
especially anywhere near the Chief’s home. Best not ask questions today. Give him time
to cool off.”
The Baron nodded.
Shorty tapped the Guide’s shoulder. “They sure know how to make those little ugly dolls
with hair. Must be tradition—they’re hanging everywhere.”

The Guide stared. “Those aren’t dolls. They are souvenirs… from their enemies.”
Taulie, unable to resist, reached toward one. In an instant, a male villager rushed over,
waving his arms, yelling warnings.
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you! You get on their bad side, you might end up
decorating the Chief’s hut!”
Taulie snatched his hands back, stuffed them in his pockets, and shuffled away with a
stiff smile.
The Baron shot him a glare. “Are you trying to get us killed? I told you—don’t touch
anything. If they feel threatened even for a second, they’ll use your head as a
paperweight. Don’t do anything stupid unless I tell you to.”
“Yes, sir,” Taulie and Shorty muttered.
The Guide spoke quietly as they walked. “These people descend directly from ancient
warrior tribes. They follow the old ways—the mysteries and prophecies of the Mountain
of the Moon and the Way of the Crystal. They remain spiritual warriors untouched by
the new age of the kingdom. Whatever information you seek, Captain, you will find it
here. But we must not appear as a threat. They are fascinated by us… but they could
easily change their minds.”
Even at a safer distance from the Chief, the locals continued to gather around the
newcomers. Their curiosity made Tallie and Shorty visibly tremble; one could practically
hear their knees knocking.
The people feared spirits and were reluctant to speak openly. But after several days
visiting various villages, the Baron slowly adapted with the Guide’s help. Winning trust
came easily to him. He dazzled them with trinkets, outrageous stories of his adventures,
and bold claims of magical powers to foresee destiny. He and his crew even performed a
booming rendition of their sea song, “Illusion.”
The crowd cheered—until a sudden burst of smoke erupted at their feet.

The celebration halted. Silence fell.
Through the cloud stepped the village shaman, draped in feathers and beads. His
presence alone made the people bow and retreat. As their wizard and spiritual guardian,
he was feared by all.
The Baron knew better than to challenge him. He quickly knelt, head low. The Guide
translated as he spoke:
“Oh great shaman, forgive this foolish stranger. My magic is weak, mere tricks for
children—nothing compared to the power you possess.”
The shaman whispered to his assistant, impressed, “Not bad. I think I like this guy.”
Then the shaman swept his arm in a grand gesture, inviting the Baron and his crew into
his dwelling. Gasps rippled through the villagers at the rare honor.
Taulie leaned toward Shorty and murmured, “This guy’s more showman than shaman.”

Chapter: 31

Nice guys

The Baron and his crew entered the shaman’s hut. He ordered Taulie and Shorty to
stand in the corner and keep quiet. The hut’s walls were covered with beads and feathers
from top to bottom, and the ceiling sagged under the weight of dangling trinkets.
Incense curled through the air, mixing with the bubbling steam rising from a cauldron
in the center of the room.
The shaman’s assistant guided the Baron and his Guide—the translator—to their seats.
The Baron settled politely in front of the cauldron, while his Guide took the seat to his
right.

As the Baron gazed ahead with a forced smile at the shaman, he muttered to his Guide,
“Look at this place… he’s obviously an egomaniac.”
The shaman returned the smile and nod as he sat down opposite the Baron. But the
smoke rising between them kept drifting into the shaman’s face. Each time he opened
his mouth to speak, the smoke wafted straight in, forcing him into a coughing fit. Trying
to preserve his mystique, he waved the smoke away with a stiff, regal gesture.
Seeing his struggle, the assistant hurried over, plucked a handful of feathers from the
wall, and began fanning furiously. The smoke, however, only grew more
chaotic—spinning, swirling, and refusing to obey. Embarrassed, the shaman turned
sharply to his assistant and barked something in his native tongue. The assistant
scrambled to shove the cauldron aside, and once the air cleared, the shaman nodded at
the Baron, as if nothing had happened.
The Baron leaned toward his Guide and whispered, “This guy is nuttier than the Chief.”
The shaman spoke in his native language, and the translator relayed the question:
“Where are you from?”
“We came from the Kingdom city. I have a ship docked at the port town. I’m here
trading with the local merchants. Thought I’d visit your lovely country.” The Baron
coughed lightly as he constructed his lie. “I’m also a part-time archaeologist and
journalist… documenting history. Strictly for historical purposes.” The Guide translated
faithfully.
“Well, how do you like it?” the shaman asked.
The Baron leaned in, whispering, “This guy’s got to be kidding me. Next thing you know,
he’ll ask me about the weather…” Then he straightened up, forced another smile, and
blinked rapidly. “I’m having a wonderful time,” he said aloud. The Guide translated.
The shaman studied him for a moment—too long a moment—and then asked, in
English, “How’s the weather in the port town?”

Caught completely off guard, the Baron answered without thinking. “Very nice! A little
rain here and there, but mostly it’s been cool.”
He froze. His eyes shot open. “What?! You speak English?”
“Calm down,” the shaman replied, raising his hands. “Maybe we can help each other.
You seem like nice guys.”
Taulie leaned toward Shorty and whispered, “Did he just say nice guys? And he calls
himself a shaman? Boy, he’s got that one wrong.

Chapter: 32

Shaman’s Shoe

The Shaman leaned toward the Baron, glancing nervously toward the doorway to make
sure no one was listening. In a hushed voice he whispered, “Can I be honest with you?”
The Baron, wearing a stupefied look, replied, “Go right ahead. Who doesn’t appreciate a
little honesty now and then?”
“I’m from the Kingdom city,” the Shaman admitted.
The Guide asked, “How did you get all the way out here?”
“Well,” the Shaman began, “a couple of my friends had an idea there was some sort of
hidden treasure up in the mountain. I thought I’d come along just for the fun of it.
And—between you and me—I was trying to get away from my ex.”
The Baron raised an eyebrow. “So where are your friends?”

The Shaman tilted his head toward the entrance. “You probably passed them outside.
They’re dangling on a string.”
Taulie and Shorty looked at each other, eyes wide. “You mean—”
“Yup,” the Shaman replied. “It’s amazing how they do it. It’s… a process.”
Taulie and Shorty both grabbed their throats and swallowed hard.
The Guide continued, “Well… then how did you survive?”
“Well,” the Shaman said proudly, “I used to do street magic. I showed the Chief some
sleight-of-hand, a few puffs of smoke, and my frog-disappearing trick. The Chief liked
the frog trick, and here I am.”
He grinned. “Maybe you caught my act. I was on the corner of Bombay Boulevard three
times a week. Matinee on Saturdays. Business wasn’t bad—I was known as Melvin the
Marvelous. But I could tell the Chief was starting to get bored. How many times can you
make a frog disappear?”
He lowered his voice dramatically. “He mostly keeps me around because of his rash.”
The Baron blinked. “Did you say rash?”
“Oh yes,” the Shaman chuckled. “A continuous rash. Terrible thing. There’s no real
medicine out here, so I said some magic words and threw some medical powder on him
from my bag. Turns out I have the same rash! Who would believe a rash saved my life?”
He shrugged. “So he made me the Shaman. What can I say? He loves me. I also put on a
good show at the Wednesday night festivals.”
Shorty, trembling slightly, asked, “What happened to the old Shaman?”
Melvin winced. “Sadly, he didn’t do so well with the rash. He rubbed it with a leaf, it got
inflamed… and so did he. They boiled him.”
Shorty let out a faint whimper.

Melvin continued, frustrated, “How would you like your life hanging in the balance of a
rash? And I’m running out of powder. I need to get out of here. I’m sick of this place.
Everybody has one medical problem or another—quite annoying. I have a brother in the
Kingdom city who wants to partner with me and open a shoe store.”
The Baron’s gaze dropped to Melvin’s bare feet. “Did you say shoes? Like… on your
feet?”
The assistant perked up enthusiastically. “Yes! Shoes are becoming the next big thing.
We’ve come up with some very interesting designs— very affordable. The people are
going to love them! Would you like to see some?”
He pulled out a stack of parchment covered in shoe drawings.
The Baron forced a polite smile. “No thank you—not right now. Maybe later. They look
wonderful, though. Very nice.”
Melvin waved his assistant away. “You can obviously see the Baron has other things on
his mind. So—what can I help you with?”
The Baron’s smile widened. He smelled opportunity. “What should I call you?”
“Feel free to call me Melvin when we’re alone. But outside, among the people, you must
address me as Shaman—if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” the Baron said. “Now, Melvin… my good man… what’s the catch?”
Melvin sighed. “Well… maybe—if possible—when you return to the Kingdom city, you
could take me with you. I’ll tell the Chief you have a sick uncle and need my assistance
for a couple of weeks.”
The Guide asked, “Why don’t you just leave yourself?”
Melvin threw up his hands. “If I leave just like that, the Chief will track me down and
turn me into one of his decorations. I don’t know if you noticed, but he has a bad temper
and a good eye for revenge.”

Shorty rubbed his arms. “Yes, we noticed. We definitely noticed.”
The Baron nodded casually. “No problem. But what’s in it for me, Melvin?”
Melvin felt the pressure closing in. “Okay… I’ll tell you what I know. But you must
promise you’ll take me back to the Kingdom city when you leave.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” the Baron said—lying through his teeth.
Melvin had no choice. “I know you’ve been asking a lot of questions around the village.
Word gets around. There’s always someone in someone’s business around here.”
The Baron leaned in, voice sharp. “Tell me about the treasure of the gods.”
Melvin hesitated. He exchanged a quick look with his assistant, then spoke.
“So that’s what you’re after. It’s a legend—and whether it’s true, I don’t know. But there
have been… unexplained disappearances. It all began with the abandoned villages.
Those people worshipped the Mountains of the Moon, and one day they simply
vanished. The locals believe the villages are haunted by three ghosts—and a mysterious
woman and her horse, made of mist.”
He lowered his voice. “The mist moves in and out of the mountain… and every year it
creeps a little further. People fear that one day it will reach their village. They chant
daily—like a prayer. Maybe those abandoned villages hold the key to what you’re
searching for. Whatever they found may have cost them their lives.”
“There’s said to be a plateau somewhere on the Mountain of the Moon where golden
artifacts lie inside ancient temples. That’s the legend. I thought about going, but I
decided I’ll stick with the shoe business, it’s safer.Anyway,” He shivered. “I’ve become a
little superstitious. How can you not ,listening to this every day.”
A low, rhythmic rumble echoed through the hut.
“Listen—there they go,” Melvin said. “The natives are chanting now. They’ll repeat it
over and over again.”

Outside, villagers stomped the ground in a slow, unsettling rhythm.
The Baron raised his voice. “How do I find the abandoned villages?”
Melvin shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s been kept secret since the day it happened. It’s
forbidden territory. Nobody talks about it—not even to me.”
Frustrated, the Baron rose and stormed toward the exit.
“Don’t forget our deal!” Melvin called. “I’ll be waiting!”
The Baron waved dismissively and stepped outside—still fuming.
The chanting grew louder. The stomping heavier; The air vibrated with an eerie
anticipation.
Taulie nudged the translator. “What are they saying?”
The Guide leaned in, listening. His eyes grew distant as if the chant were pulling at him.
Shorty shook him sharply.
“Hey! What are they saying?”
The Guide pointed toward a single villager standing at the center of the circle.
“That man… he’s like a conductor. He’s calling for a savior—just as the prophets
foretold. Everyone around him responds in an ancient tongue. I can only make out a few
words they repeat:
‘Beware of the mist… free their souls… the mist is death.’”
Shorty’s face, drained of color; “What does that mean?”
“I’m a guide,” he muttered. “Not a fortune teller.”
Shorty and Taulie hurried to the Baron.
“Captain,” Shorty said shakily, “do you hear that? We should beware of the mist.”

Taulie nodded quickly in agreement.
The Baron snapped, “The only mist you’ll ever see is at the bottom of the sea—when I
throw you in it!”
Taulie and Shorty froze. For men who had plundered, kidnapped, and murdered their
entire lives, it was remarkable how quickly the Captain could terrify them.
Shorty leaned toward Taulie and whispered, “Why does he always have to be so violent?”

Chapter: 33

Golden time piece

The Baron did not believe in spirits or ghosts, but he couldn’t deny that his quest was
somehow connected to the abandoned villages. Everything he had learned pointed
toward a link between the missing villagers and the ancient ruins where the treasure of
the gods was rumored to lie. If any real lead existed, it would be found there.
Using his compass, rough calculations, the help of his guide, and fragments of
information gathered from the tribal people, the Baron refined his map—marking
rainforest terrain, ridges, and the sharp rise of the mountains. But he was still missing
the last, most important detail: the exact location of the abandoned villages.
He had bribed, threatened, cajoled, charmed, and interrogated. Nothing worked. No one
would talk.
Frustrated—and feeling dangerously close to the truth—the Baron pulled his gold
timepiece from his vest pocket. Its chain glinted in the late-afternoon light as it dangled
from his belt. There were still hours of daylight left.
“What now?” he thought.

The tribe had returned to their daily tasks, drifting away like leaves on the wind—except
for one young boy standing in the center of the clearing, completely motionless. His
wide eyes weren’t on the Baron. They were locked on the swinging gold chain.
The boy tugged the guide’s jacket and spoke urgently in his native tongue. The guide
leaned down, listened, then quickly called out, “Captain! He says he knows how to get
there.”
The Baron knelt, putting on his best imitation of warmth.
“My fine lad, you’re quite handsome,” he said with an exaggerated smile. “Can you point
it out on this map?”
He unfolded the map on the ground, but the boy didn’t even glance at it. His gaze stayed
glued to the flashing gold.
The Baron raised the timepiece, letting it catch the sun.
“I see you like my watch,” he said, snapping it open. The ticking gears fascinated the boy
immediately.
The Baron , dangling the watch gently in front of the child’s face as his eyes twinkled
with enchantment. “I’ll make you a deal: show us the way, and it’s yours.”
The guide translated.
Of course, the Baron had absolutely no intention of giving away his timepiece. He only
needed answers.
“Well then,” he pressed, “which way?”
The boy responded, and the guide translated:
“He says he doesn’t know.”
With a snarl,

The Baron quickly pulled the watch away from the boy’s face and placed it back in his
pocket.
The child spoke quickly to the guide, who translated again, “He says… he knows
someone who does.”
The Baron leaned in. “Where? How do I speak to him?”
The boy pointed toward the upper reaches of the mountain, where the jungle grew thick
and dark.
More words from the boy. The guide’s face tightened as he translated:
“He says if you want, he will take you there himself.”
The Baron and his crew stared up at the towering jungle slope.
Taulie and Shorty blurted in unison, “Way up there?”
The boy nodded, then turned and bolted into the trees.
The Baron knew he was out of options—and out of time.
“This is our chance!” he barked, charging after the guide and the boy.
Taulie and Shorty remained frozen.
Shorty cleared his throat. “Captain, we’re men of the sea. We don’t climb mountains or
march into jungles.”
The Baron turned slowly, eyes blazing like cannon sparks.
“I’ll give you boys a choice: come with me now… or I’ll cut your tongues out and put
them in a jar.”
Their newfound bravery instantly sparked to life.
Tellie whispered, “not much of a choice”

Shorty whispered back , “I told you he was violent.”
And with that, the two reluctant sailors hurried after their captain, following the boy
into the dense, whispering jungle—where the shadows seemed to swallow the light
whole.

Chapter: 34
The Chase
The chase was on. The boy darted through the jungle like a mongoose chasing a snake,
weaving his way up the mountain with effortless grace. The Baron and the Guide pushed
themselves to keep up, branches whipping past as they ran. Behind them, Taulie and
Shorty lagged far behind, grumbling and stumbling.
The boy leapt over a fallen tree stump without even slowing. The Baron and the Guide
struggled, barely clearing it—but when Taulie and Shorty reached the stump, they
attempted to jump together… and collided mid-air. Both men crashed onto the damp
earth face-first, landing nose-to-nose with a very offended porcupine.
The two sailors froze.
The porcupine froze.
A tense standoff began.
They realized they had crushed the berry bush the porcupine had been peacefully eating.
The creature rose onto its hind legs, quills bristling, and pointed them directly at the
boys. In a deep, irritated voice with a heavy Latin accent, it growled:
“Get off of my bush.”

In the distance, the Baron heard Taulie and Shorty scream.
He sighed. “Those two are always getting stuck somewhere.”
Meanwhile, the young boy slid through a cluster of thick bamboo as though his body
could bend and twist like rubber.
The Baron stopped, took off his hat, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He and the
Guide hunched over, hands on their knees, gasping for air.
The Baron looked at the boy and muttered, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
The Guide inhaled deeply and replied, “Doesn’t this kid ever get tired?”
The Baron straightened up and looked the Guide square in the eye. “Stay with him. We
don’t want to lose him.”
“Aye, Captain,” the Guide said, then squeezed into the bamboo thicket after the boy,
fighting the rigid stems.
Taulie and Shorty barreled in last, forcing their oversized frames through the narrow
stalks. Their shirts tore, their pants ripped, and by the time they emerged from the other
side, their clothing hung from them in shreds. They looked like survivors of a wild
animal attack.
Up ahead, the boy dodged around a massive flowering tree and slipped effortlessly
beneath a hanging beehive. The Baron and the Guide slowed to a cautious crawl,
ducking low to avoid disturbing the bees.
“Close call,” the Baron whispered.
That’s when Taulie and Shorty came thundering around the corner at full speed.
The Baron threw up his hands. “Stop! Stop!”
The Guide shouted, “Look out!”

But it was too late.
Both men tripped over a thick root and slammed headfirst into the beehive. The hive
cracked, wobbling for one horrible second before dropping to the ground.
The bees erupted in a raging, buzzing cloud.
“RUN, YOU FOOLS—RUN!” the Baron bellowed.
The jungle exploded with chaos. Taulie and Shorty shrieked as they tore through the
trees, slapping wildly at the air. The Baron and the Guide sprinted after them, the
swarm closing fast.
Up ahead, the boy knelt calmly by a rushing stream, tossing stones into the water while
waiting for them—as if nothing unusual was happening behind him.
Moments later, the Baron and his crew burst from the foliage, the angry bees in hot
pursuit. Without hesitation, they dove straight into the lake, disappearing beneath the
surface with loud splashes. The bees circled above, confused, before eventually giving up
and drifting away.
One by one, the sailors cautiously raised their eyes above the waterline, checking for
danger. Finally, they all surfaced fully.
Shorty blinked at Taulie—and began laughing.
“What now?” Taulie asked.
“You’ve got honey dripping off your head,” Shorty said, pointing.
Taulie swiped a finger through his hair and tasted it.
“Not bad,” he said. “Not bad at all.”
The Baron ripped off his soaked hat and smacked both men on the head with it.
“You idiots! I should drown you right here!”

Taulie and Shorty hunched their shoulders and sank lower into the water.
Up on a rock near the stream’s edge, the boy gestured for them to follow. Then, with the
balance of a squirrel, he hopped from rock to rock across the rushing water until he
reached the far side. He turned, looked at the four drenched, miserable men, and
casually beckoned for them to join him.

Chapter: 35
Knuckleheads
Upon closer investigation, they realized the so-called stream was actually a violent surge
of rapids—loud, churning, and ready to swallow anything that slipped. To follow the
little boy, they would need to leap across a chain of narrow, moss-slick rocks. The boy,
barefoot and fearless, skipped across as if the entire river were playing along with him.
The Baron, on the other hand, ordered everyone to remove their shoes and carry them
for stability.
The Baron stepped onto the first rock, testing it with a slow shift of weight. It wobbled.
He froze. Then, carefully, he moved to the next. Despite the moss and the roaring water
below, he somehow made steady progress. The Guide followed closely, glancing down
every few seconds mentally measuring the splashing water. Finally they made it to the
other side. Where the boy was standing on a ledge, ready to go.
When the Barone looked behind him, there was no Taulie and Shorty. They were
moving so slow that they had only made it halfway across. Tiptoeing across the rocks
shaking so badly their shoes rattled.
“Hurry up!” the Baron barked. “You’re taking too long!”
Taulie straightened, trying to sound brave over the roar. “Captain! Maybe we should’ve
mentioned something a long time ago!”

The Baron gritted his teeth. “What. Is. It?”
Taulie sucked in a breath. “We can’t swim!”
The Baron stared at them, eyes flat as stone. “Well then, don’t fall into the water. And
then he yelled, even louder. “And that’s an order!!!”
Immediately, both men snapped to attention—saluting with such dramatic seriousness
that they forgot they were balancing on slippery rocks. Their shoes hit their foreheads
with two loud thwacks. The Guide winced. The Baron covered his face.
And then—predictably—Taulie and Shorty toppled off the rocks in perfect unison, arms
flapping like confused birds, and plunged into the rapids with a pair of shrieks that
echoed off the canyon walls.
The Baron’s face went completely blank. “Unbelievable. Knuckleheads. I’m surrounded
by knuckleheads.”
The Guide watched them pinwheel downstream, half-drowning, half-arguing with each
other as the rapids spun them in circles.
“So… what are we gonna do?” the Guide asked, voice tight. “Are we going to go get
them?”
The Baron watches the two knuckleheads flow downstream as their calls for help
diminished with every passing moment.
“Well,they’re supposed to be sailors. Let them sail.”

Chapter: 36
The hut on the hill

The boy led the way up the steep mountain path, moving with the confidence of
someone who had climbed it a thousand times. The Baron and the Guide followed
closely behind, panting hard but determined. Just as the boy had promised, a hut
appeared at the top—a quirky bamboo-stilted lodge jutting boldly out from the
mountainside. A balcony stretched out over the cliff, and an old man sat in a creaking
chair, watching the horizon as if guarding it.

When they reached the porch, the boy sprinted ahead and pushed open the door before
the Baron could catch his breath. Inside, a young woman looked up sharply.

“Jabari, what are you doing here with these people?” she asked.

The boy answered in perfect English, “They want to meet Grandpa. They said they’d pay
me.”

The Baron and the Guide froze in shock.

The Guide exclaimed, “He speaks English?”

The young woman nodded calmly. “Yes, of course. Very well.”

The Baron threw his hands into the air. “Does everybody out here speak English?”

He crouched down to the boy’s level. “Why didn’t you tell us you could?”

“You didn’t ask,” Jabari said with a shrug.

The Baron collapsed onto a wicker bench, as if his remaining sanity had just retired.

The young woman, holding a bag of groceries, took in their drenched clothes, scratches,
and bruises. “Um… how exactly did you get here?”

The Guide nearly exploded. “It was a treacherous path—we almost died! How do you do
this when you go for supplies?”

She gasped and glared at the boy. “Jabari… Don’t tell me you took them on your
shortcut.” The boy nodded, munching on fruit at the table.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “You could’ve come up the road. It leads right from the village.
It’s easy.”

The Guide dropped onto the bench beside the Baron, both of their faces reflecting tragic
realization.

Trying to make amends for her son’s mischief, the young woman began preparing food.
“If you’d like something to eat, I can fix it. And there’s fresh water outside.”

The Baron removed his hat politely. “Thank you. Captain Baron Van Hack—recently
sailed from Port Town to visit your beautiful country. I’m collecting historical
information.”

His standard speech. She listened with mild amusement.

“We appreciate your hospitality,” he continued. “And… if I may ask… would it be
possible to speak with your father? I’m sure he has quite the stories.”

“He’s not my father,” she said, washing fruit. “He’s my grandfather. I care for him
because he hasn’t spoken in ten years—not since something traumatic happened. But
perhaps… a visitor could do him good.”

“Well, thank you, my dear,” the Baron said warmly. “By the way, I seem to have
misplaced two crewmen. They were swept into the rapids and floated downstream.”

She nodded casually. “Oh, they should be fine. The water’s not deep at the bottom. They
can walk to shore and follow the road—it leads straight here. They can’t miss it.”

She hesitated. “Unless they go too far. Some places downriver are dangerous. Many
villagers have disappeared there—especially if they get too close to the mist.”

The Baron’s brow tightened. “The mist?”

He chuckled dismissively. “You’re an educated woman. You don’t actually believe in…
ghost stories? Monsters on horseback? All that nonsense?”

She stepped back and stared out the window. “I believe what I can see. And I’ve seen
that mist move as if it’s alive.”

Suddenly, Jabari jumped up, sprinted onto the balcony, and pointed to the distant
rainforest. “There it is!”

The young woman covered her mouth. “No… no, not again…”

The Baron, the Guide, and the young woman hurried to the balcony. The Guide leaned
over the railing, his eyes narrowing. “There… I see it. About four miles away. It’s moving
through the trees… twisting… weaving down toward the river.”

The Baron added, “I see it—but I don’t believe it. Where does it come from?”

Silence fell upon them.

Hypnotized, they stared at the snake-like mist creeping through the forest. She spoke in
a low tone, “It comes from hell.”

Chapter: 37
The catfish
The two crewmen drifted downstream, their bodies slowly coming to rest in the shallow
waters of the river. They clambered onto the bank, shoeless and feeling utterly adrift in
their misfortune. Shorty cast a worried glance around and asked, “What now? We’re
stranded here!”
Taulie shrugged, determination flickering in his eyes. “We climb out of here and head
back to where we last saw the captain.”
A frown creased Shorty’s brow. “But we don’t have shoes.” Just then, as if summoned by
fate, their shoes bobbed over to the shore like little boats. Tallie laughed, a glimmer of
hope. “Well, look at that. I think our luck is changing! Our shoes are back!” They eagerly
retrieved their footwear, shaking out the river water.
Shorty looked around nervously. “I wouldn’t want to be lost out here when it gets dark.
Look at that mist hovering over the river; it seems to be coming down from that ridge.
Now that’s eerie. You never know what could jump out and bite you in a place like this.
They say there’s ghosts in these forests.”
Taulie responded, now stop your whining, you don’t believe in ghosts. There’s no such
thing, where sailors, through and through and we’re tough as nails, We’re not afraid of
anything,right!!
Shorty said with confidence, yes, you’re right!! We’re not afraid of anything.
Taulie shook out his other shoe, a medium-sized catfish flopped onto the ground,
sending both men leaping to their feet screaming in fear.
Taulie calmed his racing heart. “Hey, chill out! It’s just a fish.”

Shorty took a step back, eyeing the creature with apprehension. “Yeah, but it’s got
bloody whiskers! What’s up with that?”
Taulie leaned in, squinting at the fish. “You know, it kinda looks like the Baron.”
Suddenly, the catfish wriggled violently, prompting Shorty to shuffle even further away.
“Don’t get too close! Who knows if it bites!”
To their astonishment, the fish began to shimmer, and the captain’s face materialized in
the scales of the creature, mouth moving in a fishy rasp. “You idiots, if you don’t get
back here quick, I’ll turn you into fish food!”
With that, the catfish wriggled back into the water, leaving the two men in shock.
Shorty stammered, “Did that fish just talk? Taulie just shook up, “I think so,” and then
they spoke in unison. “Let’s get out of here!”

Chapter: 38

Fat head

They scrambled up the muddy embankment, breathless and wide-eyed with
anticipation. Finally reaching the top, they stood at a fork in the road—the left path
vanished into a swirling wall of mist, while the right ascended steeply into a rugged
forest covered in shadows. Taulie stared directly at the mist and fanned it with his
hand. “I can’t see a thing. It’s too thick. Shorty you should, stick your head in there and
take a peek. I’ll hold on to your belt and lean you in.” Shorty frowned, recalling the
warnings of the local tribes. “Remember what they said about the Mist of No Return?”

Tallie shrugged with a grin, dismissing the caution. “The captain says all that spiritual
stuff is just mumbo-jumbo. I’d rather take my chances with this shortcut than tackle
that steep hill. I’m beat!”
Shorty said,” I don’t know about this”
Tallie reassures, “We deal with fog on the ship all the time, which is much worse than
mist. You’re gonna let some mist get the best of you?
Shorty responded, building up his confidence ,”yeah what am I worried about? It’s just
some silly little mist.”
Taulie smiled with a teasing grin “What’s the worst that could happen? You lose your
head?”
Shorty said with an hysterical tone,”What?”
I’m just joking, nobody’s losing their head.
Taulie slammed his hands together with a grin. “Alright! I’ll grab you by the belt, and
lean you in.”
Shorty blinked, wide-eyed. “Wait, why do I have to be the one going in?”
Taulie crossed his arms across his chest and started to tap his foot impatiently. “Look,
I’m taller, right?”
Shorty nodded.
“And I’m stronger, right?”
Shorty nodded again.
“And I’m better looking, right?”
Shorty nodded, then added, “Hey, wait a minute!”

Taulie replied, “What are you worried about? I’ve got your back. Remember that time
you got stuck in that barrel? Nobody could pull you out except me!”
Shorty grimaced at the memory. “Yeah, but I was only in that barrel because you begged
me to get the last pickle! You said you were starving!”
Taulie waved it away. “Okay, fine! But what about that time the cannon was about to go
off? I yanked you out of the way just in time!”
Shorty looked confused. “That was only because you told me to check inside the cannon
after you lit it and it didn’t fire.”
Taulie shrugged. “A minor detail. Let’s be reasonable. If I go in first and you slip, we
both go in. But if you go in and I slip, I can go for help!”
Shorty, with a confused look, muttered, “why can’t I go for help…”
Taulie responded quickly. “How can you go for help if you’re stuck inside the mist?”
Shorty scratched his head, “Oh yeah, that makes sense.”
Taulie looked directly at us and winked.
Shorty said with vigor, “you better pull me out if anything goes wrong. I’ll give you the
signal.”
Taulie nodded, his face serious. “Okay, what’s the signal?”
Shorty deadpanned, “If you hear a loud scream followed by someone yelling, ‘Help me,
help me!’ it’s probably going to be me.”
Taulie replied, “Got it. Screaming. Check.”
Shorty muttered under his breath, “I should’ve just stayed in that barrel…”
Taulie dug in his heels. “Alright, here we go!” He gripped Shorty by the belt with both
hands and leaned him toward the swirling mist.

Shorty’s voice quivered. “Hey—hey—HEY! Not so fast! I’m not a fishing pole!”
“Just relax,” Taulie urged, pushing him forward another inch.
Shorty’s face crept into the mist, a sense of dread washing over him. “This isn’t normal
fog…”
“What do you mean?” Taulie asked, furrowing his brows.
Shorty whispered dramatically, wide-eyed with fear, “It’s dry.”
Taulie frowned. “Mist can’t be dry. It’s water vapor.”
Shorty coughed. “Tell the mist that! This feels like a ghost is breathing in my mouth and
rubbing sandpaper in my lungs!”
“Stay calm,” Taulie said. “I’ll lean you in further to get a better look.”
PULL ME BACK!” Shorty squeaked, his voice rising in panic.
“I thought your signal was screaming!” Tallie shot back.
“This IS the pre-scream, too see if you were paying attention.” Shorty replied.
Taulie, with a look of a man who was losing his patience, leaned him in a little deeper.
“What do you see?
A warm sunlight washed the mist from Shorty’s face as he passed through to the other
side. The air smelled sweet. “Wow! This place is amazing!” he called back, awe evident in
his voice. “The trees, the grass, even the flowers—everything sparkles like gold!” As he
carefully observed the forest, he realized there was no wind and no noise. There were no
birds or animals, not even a squirrel or a bug. When he turned to look back, it felt like
the mist wasn’t even there, and his head was sticking out in the middle of thin air. Panic
set in as he shouted, “Get me out of here!”
“Do you see a path?” Taulie’s voice came through from the other side.

“No! I can’t even see myself! Pull me back!” Shorty’s voice was tinged with fear.
“Okay, hold on,” Taulie replied, tugging with all his might. But an unseen force was
pulling Shorty in the opposite direction. “I can’t pull you out; something’s dragging you
over there!”
“Something else is here!” Shorty shouted, his voice trembling. “It’s grabbing my beard!
It’s tiny and hideous, and it won’t let go!”
“Who are you calling hideous, Fat Head?” screeched a little gnome, tugging fiercely at
Shorty’s beard.
“It’s trying to pull me in! And its ugly little brothers are joining in!” Shorty panicked.
“Just use your hands and pry them off!” Taulie shouted back desperately.
“I can’t! Something’s holding my arms in the mist! I’m stuck!” Shorty’s voice grew
frantic.
“Don’t worry, brother! I’ve got you!” But Taulie felt his footing slipping in the mud,
inching toward that ominous mist.
Shorty yelled, “Two of them got me by the ears, and the other one is stretching my neck!
They’re going to kill me!”
“Quick! Something’s coming! Get me out of here!” Shorty’s heart raced as the ground
trembled beneath a thundering gallop, a horrific scream piercing the air. A prominent,
shadowy figure emerged in front of him: a dark steed with a mane of mist, its master
cloaked in swirling vapors.
In a voice that echoed like thunder, she spoke, “Where do you think you’re going, fat
head?” Just as her misty hands reached down, ready to claim him, desperation fueled
Taulie. He spotted a sturdy tree root next to his foot. Seizing it, he planted his feet and
pulled with all his might, digging into the mud.

With monumental effort, he reinforced his grip and yanked Shorty back, as if he were
extricating him from a sticky jar of honey. Just as the misty figure was about to wrap her
fingers around Shorty’s head, he suddenly shot back into the mist. Paralyzed by fear, he
closed his eyes and then opened them again, finding himself surrounded by ghostly
figures grasping at him inside the mist—human-like forms, their mouths moving.
Shorty could hear their whispering, weak voices pleading, “Help us, help us.” They
continued to reach out slowly, like they were floating underwater. Shorty blinked twice,
unable to believe his eyes. Terror washed over his face as he held his breath.
With a reverse vacuum-like pop, he shot out of the mist, landing on the ground beside
Taulie. They both gasped for air, hearts pounding.
“Wow! That was way too close! I thought I lost you!” Taulie exclaimed.
Shorty rubbed his neck and stretched out his arms. “They almost pulled off my head! I think I’m three inches taller. Tallie asked, “What did you see?”
“You remember what they said—the Mist of No Return? They were right.”

Chapter: 39
Lone survivor
The Guide waved his hand in front of the old man’s face, but there was still no response.
He turned to the granddaughter and asked, “How did he end up like this?”
“It happened many years ago,” she began, her voice soft and reflective. “I remember it
like it was yesterday. I was very young, but that’s not something you easily forget. The
villagers found him floating down the river, caught in a tree limb and barely alive. It all
started about twenty years ago, around this time, when Grandpa would periodically visit
his parents in the village of his birth whenever he wasn’t working.

“We come from a family of diggers. We mined for salt and minerals, and my grandfather
was one of the best. He mostly lived here with my grandmother—she’s passed now. Back
then, we would visit them often. Life was good for them. I remember when Grandpa
used to take my brother and me to the old country when I was just a kid.
The village was nestled deep in the rainforest at the edge of the Mountain of the Moon.
The tribe members were self-sufficient, relying on the nearby river for everything they
needed, similar to other communities along the riverbank.

Grandpa tried to introduce various tools, different types of seeds for planting, new
farming equipment, and essential medical supplies—items that could improve their
lives. However, the villagers were resistant to change. Despite this, Grandpa, having
been born in this land, had a way of inspiring trust in them. Helping the villagers gave
him a sense of purpose and made him feel as though he was contributing to the survival
of his tribe while also preserving their history.
She paused, her expression tightening.
“I was studying in Kingdom City and would visit frequently, until one day—like any
ordinary day—he went to the old country to see his parents. But this day was different.
Everyone had vanished. At first, we thought they had relocated, but that would have
been impossible.”
The Guide leaned in. “A whole village just doesn’t pick up and leave?”
“No,” the granddaughter replied firmly. “They just disappeared. Kettles of food were
bubbling over the fires. Pipes filled with tobacco were still lit. Cups of water sat
half-empty, as if someone had just been drinking from them. Their lives had stopped
abruptly.”
Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. “The only things left were babies crying in their
cribs. I am an educated woman with limited spiritual beliefs, but something attacked my
grandfather and his village. Those facts cannot be denied. He was the sole survivor of whatever happened—and somehow escaped. But whatever he encountered was pure
evil, and since that day, he has never been the same.”
The Guide was genuinely concerned; in some way, these were also his people, even if he
didn’t come from the North. “What did you do about it?”
The granddaughter placed the plate of sliced fruit on the table.
“What could we do? This wasn’t the only incident. All the villages along the river’s edge
experienced the same misfortune. The people who lived in this part of the kingdom
returned only to collect the infant children, but no one has ever gone back since. This
place is forbidden—cursed with the ghosts of the past and the lost memories of its
people.”
She drew a breath. “The one ancient word my grandfather keeps repeating is the name
of a warlord ruler: Raiten.”
The Guide’s eyebrows lifted. “I’ve heard that name before. It’s written in the Scriptures.
I was recently teasing the boys about this legend. She was a warlord queen who lived
thousands of years ago. If I remember correctly, she defied the gods and disappeared
into the dark side of the spirit world. It’s just an old story I was told before bedtime.”
Suddenly, the old man jerked upright, as though something had ripped him from sleep.
He shouted, with every bit of strength he had left: “RAITEN!”
The cry startled everyone.
The Baron was performing his usual “I feel sorry for you” routine when he quickly pulled
a rag from his pocket to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“Wow… what a story! My readers are going to eat this up. Luckily, he’s still alive,” he
exclaimed.

The guide glanced at the Baron’s
side-eye, fully aware that he was only pretending to care.

The granddaughter and Jabari rushed over to the old man. “Don’t worry, Grandpa, it’s
okay,” she assured him. “Jabari, go fetch the apple pieces I cut up and put them in a
clean bowl—you know he likes them. I’ll get him some water.”
They hurried inside, leaving the Baron and the Guide alone with the old man.
The Baron seized the opportunity and pulled a map from his pocket. “Excuse me, kind
sir. Can you point to the area where your village used to be?”
The old man stood rigidly, lifted a shaking hand, and touched the map. Once more, he
whispered the same word: “Raiten.”
That was all the Baron needed. His eyes gleamed.
The Guide murmured, “No one could make up a story like that.”
With a sly, satisfied look, the Baron replied, “Yes… it seems so, if you believe in fantasies
and fairytales.”
The granddaughter returned to the porch with a glass of water. The Baron straightened
his coat, ready to leave. “So that’s the whole story,” he said lightly. “How very sad.”
Jabari appeared with the bowl of sliced apples. “Mom, tell him about the crystal.”
“Oh, Jabari, that’s not a big thing. It doesn’t mean anything,” she said.
The Baron raised a hand. “Oh no—if there’s something else, I’d like to hear it. History is
always interested in details.”
Jabari put the bowl in his grandfather’s lap, then skipped over to the shelf. He lifted a
small piece of crystal. “Look, Mr. Baron. He had this in his hand when they found him.”
“May I?” the Baron asked eagerly.
Jabari placed the crystal into his palm. The Baron held it up to the light, examining it
with feigned disinterest.

“Not very valuable. Maybe something he picked up while floating down the river,” the
Baron remarked.
Jabari quickly snatched it back. “OK,” he said curtly, returning it to the shelf.
Seeing that Grandpa was calmer now, the granddaughter picked up her bag. “I have to
run a couple of errands,” she said politely, hinting it was time for their guests to leave.
“Jabari, stay here and look after your grandfather—and no shortcuts,” she added.
The Baron smiled politely before shooting a low growl at the boy. “Of course,” he said.
“We should be leaving. We’ve taken up enough of your time.” He signaled to the Guide.
“Let’s go.”
He opened the door with exaggerated courtesy, saying, “Ladies first.”
The granddaughter stepped outside. The moment her back turned, the Baron spun
around, snatched the crystal from the shelf, and slipped it into his pocket in one smooth
motion.
Once on the porch, she said, “I hope we helped your research.”
“More than you realize,” the Baron replied. They parted ways.
Once she was completely out of sight, the Baron pulled the crystal back out. The Guide
stared, astonished.
“So you stole it,” the Guide said.
The Baron smirked. “Let’s say… borrowed.”
“You said it was worthless,” the Guide pointed out.
The Baron held it up. Light pierced through the crystal, revealing a shifting mist inside
that almost looked alive. “Auralite,” he murmured. “Not from this region. I’ve studied
crystals all my life, and I’ve never seen one behave like this.”

Before the Guide could respond, shouting echoed from the path—Shorty and Taulie
stumbled toward them.
“Captain! You won’t believe what happened to—”
The Baron raised a hand. “Silence. We have a new destination.” He stepped to the cliff’s
edge and stared into the vast, shadowed rainforest below—the forbidden land.
“That’s where we’re going,” he said, pointing.
They all watched as the mist began to rise—slowly at first, then rolling thicker and
heavier, as though it were searching for something. Or someone.

Chapter: 40
The Whiskers
The Baron and his crew returned to camp just as the sun began to set. As the captain’s
guide headed back to his tent, he passed by two disheveled crewmembers and could
hardly contain his laughter. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. The Baron, furious at
his two sailors, barked, “Look at you two! You’re a disgrace!” He whipped them with his
lecher. The two men stood at attention in their torn clothes, awkwardly holding up their
pants. Slowly, they began to zone out, envisioning the Baron as a whiskered fish. They
shook their heads to clear their thoughts as the Baron continued, “I should turn your
heads over to the chief as a gift, but he would probably refuse them. Or maybe I should
keelhaul both of you when we get back to the ship. Get some rest—we leave at daybreak.
Gather your things and get new clothes. Set up camp and meet back here in the
morning. That’s an order!” With a low and dejected tone, the two crewmembers replied,
“Aye, Captain,” as they saluted him. The Baron snapped, “Stop saluting me, you idiots!
You know what happened last time.”

Chapter: 41
Fiendish Plan
The next morning, as dawn broke, the Baron and his crew stood at the edge of the
rainforest, fully supplied and ready to go. The Baron had laid out his destination and
concocted a diabolical plan that would make the witches of illusion look like innocent
schoolgirls. His goal was to kill two birds with one stone, one of which was Saba. He was
prepared to cover his tracks at any cost. Saba remained a problem that needed to be
silenced, and this was his chance.
The Baron stayed up most of the night, creating a new map where the old man had
pointed. Making a copy he discreetly handed it to Taulie and Shorty, pulling them aside
away from the guide, who was tying up loose ends before they left. “Do you two think
you could finally do something right for a change?” he demanded. The two of them
quickly stood at attention and responded loudly, “Yes Captain!” The Baron rolled his
eyes in silent anger. “Keep it down,” he hissed.
As Taulie and Shorty hunched over to get a closer look at the map, they placed their
fingers over their lips, hushing the captain. The Baron sighed in exasperation.
“Knuckleheads, I’m surrounded by knuckleheads. Now, look at this map and study it. I
circled a specific location—that’s where I’ll be. The guide and I are starting from this
exact point,” he said, placing his finger on the map. “Use your compass; you shouldn’t
have any trouble. Go back to the palace and kidnap the woman named Saba. You’ve seen
her working with my son Valdemar. I want you to bring her to me.”
Taulie and Shorty felt confident they could handle this job; kidnapping was right up
their alley. Shorty picked up a rope and tested its strength. “But what if Valdemar sees
us? He’s always with her.”
The Baron smiled wickedly. “Don’t worry about that. I sent him back to the ship to
prepare for launch. He’ll be nowhere around, so you shouldn’t have any trouble. Now,

listen carefully. You’re most likely going to find her in her office in the archive room.
Make sure no one sees you. She has something of mine, and I want it back.”
Shorty anxiously asked, “What is it Captain?”
“It’s my pen, and a ring; she probably has my pen in her pocket and the ring on her
finger. Bring them both back to me with the girl—do it quietly.”
“Yes Captain.” The Baron added in a low, gritty voice, “Don’t fail me, or I’ll break your
bones and boil them in oil!” They nervously swallowed and with a very low whisper
responded, “Yes sir Captain.”

Chapter: 42

The kidnapping of Saba

Taulie and Shorty had stolen a horse and wagon and made good time finding their way
back to the King’s palace. They figured it was still early and that Saba might be still
working in the new wing under construction, so they left the horse and wagon down the
road and set off on foot. Trying not to attract attention as several workers came around
the corner on their break, they picked up a hammer and some pieces of wood, acting
nonchalantly to avoid being noticed. Once the workers were out of sight, they dropped
the tools and materials and made their way around the outside corner of the new wing.
There, Saba was standing on the newly built porch speaking to her father, Jonah. They
could hear Jonah say, “I’m going to pick up more materials from the warehouse. I’ll see
you back at the house tonight.” Saba rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t slept well after
everything that had transpired and was also worried about Valdemar. “OK, Dad, I’m just
going to try to clean up those old transcripts that are covered in ink. They are full of
ancient writings. I would like to try to decipher them and see what I can salvage. Maybe
I can make some sense of it and possibly transcribe it,” she replied.

Jonah put on his hat and said, “Stop worrying. The Prince will be back in a couple of
days and will get everything straightened out. You should go home and get some rest,
my precious one. You’ve been overworking yourself. Whatever it is, you can take care of
it tomorrow. I don’t want to see you here when I return.” Jonah gently held Saba’s
shoulders, and she responded softly, “OK.” She nodded her head and gave him a big
hug. He hurried down the steps and yelled, “Tell your sister I love her, and I’ll be home a
little later. She should not worry.”
Saba waved goodbye and turned to walk into the cargo bay. Taulie and Shorty followed
her inside as she went into her office and sat at her desk. Reaching into the bottom
drawer, she pulled out the damaged documents and placed them on the desk in front of
her. The two kidnappers carefully looked around to see if she was alone. Taulie pulled
out rope, and Shorty took out a rag to silence her. They opened the door to her office
slowly and crept up behind her. Just as she was about to scream, Shorty stuffed the rag
into her mouth and tied a blindfold around her head, covering her eyes. Taulie quickly
bound her hands and feet.
Saba fought back with every ounce of strength she had, but they moved too fast for her
to overpower them. Taulie flipped Saba onto his shoulder as she kicked violently and
continued to scream into the rag that muffled her voice. Dagger was lying on her pillow
adjacent to Saba, in a deep sleep. The sudden commotion startled her awake. Who were
these people, and why were they taking Saba against her will? Dagger ran toward Saba,
but by then, it was too late; they had already carried her out the door and put her in the
back of their wagon.
Shorty jumped into the driver’s seat of the wagon while Taulie stayed in the back,
holding Saba down. Shorty was just about to crack the whip when he asked, “Did you get
the pen and how about the ring ?” Taulie was having a hard time restraining Saba as she
continued to kick him. “No, I thought you got it,” Taulie replied.
“Oh no, we’re in trouble. Check her pockets.” Taulie quickly rummaged through her
pockets. With a big smile, he yelled, “By the hair of my chinny-chin-chin, it’s here and so

is the ring!” Shorty, feeling a great weight lift off his shoulders, said, “The Captain is not
going to kill us.”
Saba pushed the rag out of her mouth and, with a threatening tone, exclaimed, “So the
Baron is behind this, that coward! He sent you two scoundrels to do his dirty work. You
won’t get away with this. When the Prince finds out what you have done, he’s going to
boil you in oil!”
Shorty looked at Taulie. “Boiling in oil seems to be getting popular. Sorry, Miss Saba, it’s
the Captain’s orders.”
“Please shut her up,” Taulie said. He grabbed the rag from the floor and stuffed it back
in her mouth. Saba lunged forward and bit down hard on his fingers. Taulie screamed
like a newborn baby.
By this time Dagger could feel the adrenaline surging as the wagon came into view, its
familiar scent cutting through the air. She knew that smell all too well—those were
members of the Captain’s crew. With a swift motion, Shorty cracked his whip overhead,
urging the horse to surge forward. The wagon lunged ahead, gaining speed, but Dagger
was right on its tail, as she sprinted in in hot pursuit.

Chapter: 43
The Abandoned Villages

The Guide unearthed an old trail that was nearly invisible to the untrained eye. Armed
with the Baron’s map and his tracking expertise, he took the lead. The trail was engulfed
by thick, overgrown vegetation. “No one has ventured this way in years,” the Guide
stated, unsheathing his machete and decisively hacking through the dense foliage to
clear a path. As midday approached, the Baron and his Guide had been on the move for
hours. They finally arrived at a clearing that revealed an abandoned village, void of any

human presence. A ghostly aura enveloped the area as a chilling wind whistled through
the trees. The air felt stale and unwelcoming, sharp against their senses. They advanced
cautiously through the village, where empty huts lined their path. Even the rainforest’s
wildlife seemed to shun this abandoned graveyard.
Just as the granddaughter had described, clothing still hung out to dry, kettles and
plates held uneaten food, wood carvings of masks lay unfinished, and canoes awaited
completion. It was as if an entire generation had vanished without a trace. A mist floated
down the river, creeping into the deserted huts near the shore like it was looking for
something. “This village has a cursed presence, Captain,” the Guide warned. It lingers
here like the hand of death. We should finish our business quickly and not tempt the
unknown.”
The captain walked close to the riverbank, where mist swirled on the surface. This was
not his first encounter with mist; he had seen it hundreds of times on the open sea. As
he gazed out at the river, he contemplated his next move. The mist slithered onto the
shore, coiling around the Baron’s ankles like shackles seeking a victim. Despite his
apprehension; he dismissed any thoughts of spirits or ghosts. To him, everything was
black or white—live or die. His only objectives were power and wealth, and he was solely
interested in the secrets that the village might hold.
Then something strange happened. The Guide noticed a yellow glow emanating from
inside the captain’s pocket, radiating through the fabric of his jacket. “Captain!!!” the
Guide called out, “You’re on fire!” Alarmed, the captain asked, “Where?” The Guide
replied, “In your pocket! Look in your pocket!” The captain patted himself down and
finally found the glowing object. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, revealing a
crystal that glowed brightly in the dim light. As he held it in the palm of his hand and
adjusted it to see better, the mist withdrew from around his boots.
“What type of sorcery is this?” the Guide exclaimed. The captain held the crystal in the
open palm of his hand, its light casted shadows on his face. “This is the Aurilite Crystal
that I got from the old man. I knew there was something unusual about this rock. The

mist doesn’t seem to like it.” He lowered it further toward the ground, and the mist
retreated like a frightened animal.
The captain grinned. “You can call it what you want, but as far as I’m concerned, if this
good luck charm keeps the mist at bay, I’m not going to question its power.” The Guide
noted, “That’s how the old man survived. It had something to do with that crystal.”
The captain, still staring at the glowing crystal in his palm, said, “Yes, you could be right.
This crystal may come in handy one day.” He wrapped the crystal in a rag and tucked it
into his pocket, dulling its glow. Dismissing any further conversation about it, he said,
“Let’s keep looking.” The guide cautiously stepped back from the mist purposely
avoiding any contact.
Standing in the village’s heart, the Baron assessed his surroundings. “Let’s spread out
and start searching.” After exploring several huts, the Guide called out from what
appeared to be the largest structure. “Hurry, Captain, you need to see this!” The Baron
entered the large hut and began to scan the room. The Guide lit a candle hanging from a
post in the center. “This was the Chief’s hut,” the Guide declared.
The Baron moved deeper into the hut, following the Guide’s lead until he reached an
extraordinary discovery that halted him in his tracks. Before him was a large wooden
tablet, intricately carved with a map and Adinkra symbols. He cleared away cobwebs
and dust to fully reveal it. Instantly recognizing the symbols from the old map, he
compared them to the etchings in his journal. A gleeful smile crept across his face as he
exclaimed, “This is it! This is what I’ve been searching for.” As he meticulously studied
the wooden tablet, his gaze fell upon an unusual carving at the bottom, distinct from the
rest. Clearing away the dust revealed a jewel, or crystal, beneath it with the word
“Zendara” inscribed below. The jewel’s unique shape and specific markings made it
unmistakable, seeming to shine with undeniable significance. When the captain looked
closer, he could see that the carved crystal was missing an edge. Curiously, he took out
the piece of the crystal he had in his pocket and laid it next to the carved tablet. It was a
perfect fit.

Captain said, “well well well things are starting to come together. Once I figure out what
this is all about, I will be a rich man.”
His hunger for the mountain’s treasures intensified. For the first time, a confident smile
graced the Baron’s face; he sensed he was finally making substantial progress.
As he scrutinized the tablet further, he discovered the encryption key on the opposite
side of the jewel. “Well, this is the turning point,” the Baron said, excitement lacing his
voice. “With the missing symbols and the key, I can finalize this map and realize my
conquest.” Pulling out his journal, he meticulously started documenting all the symbols,
directions, and words. Using a skilled hand, he created an exact duplicate of the jewel,
detailing every aspect and noting the word “Zendara.”
With adequate time and research, he knew he could unveil the mysteries behind this
wooden artifact and all the information that he had collected. Unfortunately, he was
acutely aware that time was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Just as the Baron became
engrossed in transcribing, Taulie entered the hut. “Captain, we’ve got that package you
told us to pick up.” The Baron, beaming with satisfaction, replied, “What a splendid day
this is! I’ll be out shortly.” Turning to his Guide, the Baron commanded, “We’re moving
west, away from the Kingdom city, and through the other side of the rainforest. Clear a
path for us to follow. We’ll meet at the outer edge, and afterward, we’ll head south back
to the port town and the ship. You’ll be generously compensated for your services.”
The Guide sensed something was amiss, a layer of secrecy under the Baron’s words, but
relief washed over him at the thought of leaving this eerie place. “No problem, Captain,”
he replied, drawing his machete from his backpack. “I’ll meet you on the outer ridge,” he
stated as he made his way out of the Chief’s hut.
Chapter: 44

Face-to-face

Baron made sure that the Guide was out of sight before he called Taulie and Shorty over.
He gestured for them to bring Saba into the Chief’s hut. “Put her on the ground next to
the wooden tablet and tie her to the post.” With a sense of relief, the Baron said, “I never
thought I’d ever say this, but good work boys. Now, did you remember to get my pen?”
Saba continued to try to speak, but the rag muffled her words. The Baron looked down
at Saba and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll get to you soon enough.”
Taulie pulled the pen out of his pocket . “Here they are, Captain. Is this what you were
looking for?
With a cringe, evil voice, he said, “Yes.” The Baron took it from Taulie’s bandaged hand
and looked at Saba, dangling the pen in front of her eyes as he toyed with her. “Thanks
for cleaning it. I appreciate its return. He looked at Taulie and ordered, “unmuzzle this
girl?”
Taulie tentatively reached for the rag in Saba’s mouth and turned to the Baron. “This
one is a wildcat, Captain. She almost bit off my bloody finger.” He unwrapped his
bandages to show the Baron his throbbing finger. The Captain looked at Saba with a
pouty face. “So you’ve been a bad girl, in more ways than one.”
Taulie carefully pulled the rag out of her mouth. Saba lunged forward aggressively,
biting down on Taulie’s fingers again. This time, she managed to take a bigger bite,
sinking her teeth into at least two of Taulie’s fingers. The crunching sound made Shorty
cringe. Taulie yanked her fingers out of Saba’s mouth as quickly as she could, screaming
like a frightened child. The Baron yelled, “Enough of these foolish games! You two go
outside and pack our gear. Here, take my pen and this rag. The rag contains a valuable
crystal, so be careful and place it in my backpack. Also, find some dry sticks and bring
them to me. When you’re done, wait for me by the clearing.”
Taulie was yelping in pain, blowing on and shaking his throbbing fingers. “She’s a witch,
that one, and she’s fast.” Saba looked at Taulie and Shorty, leaned her head to the side,
and offered a sarcastic smile that lasted just a second. Taulie said “Captain, if you need
me to take care of this one, just give me the order.” The captain replied, “not now I have
other plans for her. Now get to work!!!”

Shorty grabbed Taulie and pulled him out of the hut.
Shorty looked around until he found a dry stick and poked his head back into the hut
and said,“Here you go, Captain. I’ll leave it here on the side.” The Baron gestured ok
with his hand as he continued to focus on the wooden tablet.
Shorty started collecting the Baron’s supplies and placed them on the wagon next to
their backpacks.
Taulie put his two fingers through the mist in the lake, trying to soothe the pain. He
looked downriver. “It’s happening again.” Shorty, who was stuffing the Baron’s supplies
into their backpacks, asked, “What’s happening again?”
Taulie pulled his hands out of the water and stood up straight. “The mist, it’s getting
higher and thicker coming off the river. Maybe we should tell the captain what
happened.”
Shorty placed his hand on Taulie’s shoulder. “Brother, he’s never going to believe us. In
fact, nobody will. I don’t even believe it myself. Whatever it was, it’s not going to stop
until it takes every human thing it can get its hands on. I think we should just do what
the captain says. Let’s release the horse and head for the clearing. The faster we get back
to the ship, the faster we can get off this dry land.”

Chapter 45

A better scenario

The Baron was writing in his journal, squinting slightly at the wooden tablet on the wall.
“Now we’re alone. Please excuse me; my eyes are not what they used to be. I don’t mean
to be rude, but I need to make these final notes.”

Saba reacted sharply, “You filth.”

“Well, I admit my hygiene isn’t what it used to be, but that’s a subjective opinion.” A
light transparent mist entered the doorway. “You’ll never get away with this. Once they
see that I’m missing, they will come looking for me.”
The Baron smiled, “I’m counting on it.” Saba twisted her body, trying to loosen the rope
around her hands tied to the post. “When I tell them what you’ve done, the King’s
guards will hunt you down, and you will get the justice you deserve.”
“Oh, really? And what’s that?” Still focused on the tablet, the Baron finished his final
notes and closed his journal, now turning his attention to Saba. “I have a better scenario.
Something that makes much more sense. I think you’ll like it; I know I do. You’re the
perpetrator; you’ve had this planned from the beginning. You staged the robbery to
make it look like someone else did it. Sitting next to you will be proof. Your precious
map, neatly tucked inside this leather tube.”
The Baron pulled the leather tube containing the map from his inside jacket pocket and
placed it on the floor next to Saba. “It will be right there when they find you. You
intended to sell the stolen documents on the black market and use the money to run
away with my son. Valdemar knew nothing about this. You couldn’t go through the city
to the port town, or you would’ve been seen, so you decided to go through the rainforest.
When you made camp for your overnight stay, a fire broke out, and you couldn’t contain
it. So sad. The evidence will be right there, lying next to you inside that leather tube.
When Valdemar finds out, it will be too late. There will be nothing left of you but a pile
of ashes. And if you think the leather tube will burn well it won’t. It might get singed, but
it won’t burn right through. I had them specially made for my personal map collection.
They float and they’re fireproof. You never know what could happen on the open seas on
a ship. You have to be ready for anything.”
Saba looked at the Baron, “You’re insane.”
The Baron snickered. “They say that insanity is a form of genius. Thanks for the
compliment.” He put his journal and pen in his pocket, then knelt down in front of Saba.
“Valdemar will, of course, stay with me on the ship. When the King finds your body, the
only thing left behind will be the map and my son’s ring.”
The Baron reached down and, with a slight struggle, pulled the ring off her thumb. “And
as far as the ring goes, it doesn’t belong to you. I’ll explain the situation to Valdemar
with a tear in my eye, overcome with grief. Then I’ll tell the King that you were secretly

married to my son; and he will give it back to me, for sentimental value. How else could
I possibly have it? He slipped it on his finger. How’s that for a performance? You can’t
write this stuff. I’m so smart, I scare myself!” The Baron laughed out loud.

Chapter: 46
Valdemar’s legacy

“You see, Valdemar is my legacy. I’ve invested so much time in him; he’s not going to
walk out on me because of something as trivial as love.” Saba continued to struggle with
the rope.
“You talk about him as if he were a pet or a piece of merchandise. You don’t own him!”
Saba exclaimed.

The Baron snapped back, “Yes, I do. He belongs to me, and you’ll never understand.
Once he sees the wealth and power I will bring him, he will eventually thank me. Thanks
to your archives room, my hard work, and the final piece of the puzzle—this wooden
tablet in front of you—I will return to your country welcomed with open arms. The
information I have gathered will lead me to your hidden treasure in the Mountain of the
Moon.”

As a sign of success, the Baron pointed his index finger into the air and arrogantly
declared, “I, Sylvester Baron VanHeck, have successfully figured out the secret to your
culture. How ironic is that? I will use the power of the treasure I take from you to set up
shop here and drain your country of all its natural resources. How can you possibly
compete with an intellect like mine? And when I’m finished exhausting your country’s
wealth, I will focus on the next country and then the next, until I’ve conquered the
world. The name Van Heck will go down in history. What Napoleon and Alexander
could not do, I will accomplish.

Eventually Valdemar will succeed me. I will live comfortably, and he will continue to do
what I have taught him. You were right about the ring and its crest. He does come from
the blood of Kings in my country, but I have plans for him. I have to admit I’ve grown
fond of him, until he becomes unuseful to me.”
Saba responded, “You’re delusional. Valdemar will eventually see through your
manipulation, and no amount of wealth will ever change that.”
The Baron picked up the dry stick that Shorty had left him, nervously flipping it from
hand to hand. “This is business. You speak of love; love is a fool’s game, a fleeting
moment of compassion. It’s an excuse for the weak to repress their true potential and
never fulfill their life’s ambitions. Compared to the power of wealth, love is
incomparable. Money can buy him love every day for the rest of his life. Can love make
you a landowner, buy you political power, control an army, or even a country? Kings will
knock on my door for advice. I’ve read through your scriptures. You wait for a savior, a
prophecy—if that’s what you call it. You and your people live in fear: fear of spirits and
ghosts, fables and fairytales, and even fear of God himself. I fear nothing, and that’s why
I will succeed. You are all so blind; The only true God is power!”

His yellow teeth clenched as he made a fist. Saba screamed, “No! Valdemar is not like
you! He’ll never be like you!”

The Baron was disturbed by her statement. He yelled, “I’ll make him like me!” He
aggressively tore off some dried straw from the wall of the hut, tied it to the tip of the
stick, and pointed it at Saba. “The only thing standing in my way now is you!”
Saba suddenly realized what she was dealing with. “I am a student of history. You and
your kind think you’re special, but you’re not; you’re typical. Self-proclaimed demigods
like you have come and gone throughout the centuries. You have always failed. I pity
you. Your peers will smile in your face and laugh behind your back. They will fear you
but never respect you. You are an empty shell of a man with a void that cannot be filled.
You’ll spend the rest of your life searching for something you’ll never find. You want
Valdemar because he has something you don’t have, compassion. He is young and
innocent, someone you can manipulate. Your only weapon to control him is that he
loves you without question—he yearns for your acceptance and respect. If you use this

power to manipulate him, you will destroy him and yourself. You want to empty his soul
like this village, then fill it with hate. You are the true plague that has terrorized this
world for generations. The cursed creatures that have taken my people are compelled,
but you act out of selfish pride and greed. You are aware of your actions and yet
continue without a conscience. You and your kind are the true monsters. Humanity and
the growth of human intellect mean nothing to you. Your rage against your brother to
possess his property leads you to destroy it for pleasure. You hate your neighbor simply
because he thinks differently than you do, passing down your hate from generation to
generation.
You’re not a man; you’re a plague that haunts this earth. You are a wild animal that
cannot be caged or controlled, carrying an infection that will never stop spreading until
every living creature thinks like you. Your legacy is pathetic. Your existence is offensive.
You will walk the Earth like the living dead, without a soul; coddling your treasures in
the shadows in fear of losing them. You will be remembered as an angry old man.
And when you have planted your last evil seed and completed your last wicked deed, you
will wander the land of the dead searching for repentance for eternity. You will be
remembered as a legacy of nothing; nobody will mourn you or miss you. No treasures or
power will ever buy you out of the deep hole in which you will be buried. Your existence
will be forgotten. Your wealth and property will be dispersed among the people you
hated, the same people who hated you. Everyone would have been better off had you
never been born. This is what you will hand down to Valdemar. This is your legacy.
Congratulations, Baron. ”The Baron was momentarily speechless. Saba’s words had
wounded his pride, which was evident in his expression. “You underestimate the power
of the gods.” Saba continued to struggle. “Set me free, and all of this will end. Nobody
has to get hurt.” The Baron responded by picking up a rag and stuffing it back into
Saba’s mouth. He then reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a box of matches.
Striking a match, he enjoyed the moment as it brightened the room, representing his
intent. Holding the stick with dry brush wrapped around its tip, he placed the lit match
beneath it, and it quickly ignited in a blaze.

Looking down at Saba, the flame of the torch reflected in Saba’s eyes. “Look around you,
speechmaker. This is your reality. You talk about my future, but you better start thinking

about your own, because it’s not going to last long. I am still his father, and he will obey
me. By tomorrow, when we are out on the open sea, you will be just another forgotten
memory.” With an expression of insanity, the Baron turned quickly and walked out of
the Chief’s hut, the sound of the fiery torch echoing behind him.
The huts had been unattended for years; they were dry and brittle, easily ignitable. He
began at the furthest hut, pushing the torch into the dry exterior walls, watching as it
caught fire. He relished the act, strutting from hut to hut, setting the entire village
ablaze. The last stop was the Chief’s hut. There, he stood defiantly with the burning
torch, a wall of mist rolling in heavily from the riverbed behind him. With no conscience
and an evil, vengeful grin, he threw the torch onto the base of the Chief’s hut, igniting it
in an instant. “Try to talk yourself out of this one.”
As the flames grew uncontrollably around him, the Baron erupted in booming laughter,
his voice echoing through the ghostly village. Just as he drew another breath to continue
his celebration, the swirling mist around him seemed to come alive, shooting upward
with a mischievous intent and rushing into his nostrils, filling his lungs with a chilling
rush. A fit of coughing seized him, leaving him slightly dazed. However, he shook off the
strange sensation and proceeded to make his way toward the clearing.

Chapter: 47

Dagger

Saba continued to struggle as thick smoke filled the hut. This was it—the end. Her mind
raced with memories of Valdemar and the life they could have shared. She forced a
broken smile and thought of her sister, Shekinah—so young, so uncertain. How would
Shekinah manage without her? And their father, Jonah, who had already lost his
wife—losing his eldest daughter would break him. She loved them all deeply, fighting
back tears as the flames inched closer.
Then, she heard something unusual. Behind her, she felt something nibbling at the
ropes binding her wrists. The smoke made it hard to see, but it was Dagger! The loyal

animal had followed Saba from her office all the way to the hut. With a burst of relief,
Saba managed to spit the rag from her mouth onto the ground. “Hurry, Dagger, we don’t
have much time.”
With determination, Dagger gnawed at the ropes, her teeth working quickly. Saba
twisted her wrists, and soon the ropes began to loosen until they finally snapped. Dagger
had come through just in time.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Saba untied her legs and stood up. The room was engulfed in
flames, and the smoke thickened the air, making it hard to breathe. She grabbed the
leather tube containing the map, slinging it over her shoulder. She glanced back at the
ancient tablet, now burning fiercely. “All its secrets will soon be lost to ashes,” she
thought, a pang of regret in her heart. With Dagger in tow, she dashed toward the hut’s
opening.
Saba burst out, coughing violently as she cradled Dagger. In moments, the entire
structure was engulfed in flames and collapsed behind her. She looked down at Dagger
and kissed her gently. “Thanks for saving my life.”
Dagger nuzzled close, but the danger was far from over. The fire raged out of control,
swallowing the village and the surrounding forest. Saba lifted Dagger and looked into
her eyes. “Do you see that clearing?” Dagger poked her head up. “Follow it leads east to
the open planes. You should be able to track their path. They’re going back to the ship
;get Valdemar. He’ll know something is wrong when he sees you. Try everything to get
him off that ship. I’m going back to the palace to tell Prince Elias what happened here.”
The smoke thickened around them. Saba set Dagger down. “Go!” she urged, gesturing
toward the path. She coughed, her eyes stinging from the smoke. Dagger glanced back,
worried. “Go now!” Saba commanded, and Dagger bolted away.
As Dagger entered the clearing, a series of burning tree limbs crashed down, blocking
the path. Now, Saba had to find another way back east. She looked around, everything
ablaze. The fire climbed the trees, and the heat was unbearable. She spotted the wagon
that had brought her here.

If she followed the wagon’s path back east, maybe she could escape. She covered her face
and moved carefully toward the opening, but then—a loud cracking sound shattered the
chaos. Saba looked up just in time to see a massive, fiery tree breaking free and crashing
directly in her path. The wagon was crushed and ignited in flames, and she realized she
was truly trapped.
What could she do now? The river—that was her only option. If she could swim
upstream, hold her breath, and find a clearing that was not a blaze, she could eventually
make it to the occupied villages. The fire surrounded her, every tree and bush ablaze, the
heat and smoke nearly unbearable.
Taking a deep breath, Saba dove into the river, submerging herself beneath the smoky
surface. The cool water enveloped her, offering a brief respite. The towering flames
reflected off the water’s surface, and an amber glow illuminated her path as she swam
with urgency.

Chapter: 48

Queen Amara Riser

Saba crashed through the surface of the river, taking a breath of life into her lungs. She
had held her breath for as long as she could. The absence of smoke on the surface was a
good sign. Looking around, she noticed a shoreline clearing on the riverbank and swam
toward it. No fire, she thought. “That’s peculiar. Did I swim past it? How could that be
possible? I was only underwater for a couple of minutes. There’s not even a sign of
smoke. In fact, everything looks normal here, as if nothing happened. Could I be dead?
Or maybe I’m just hallucinating.”

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Startled, she quickly turned to see a young
woman with a gentle face and bright green eyes. “Don’t be frightened; I’m not going to
hurt you,” the woman said, her tone sincere and genuine.

“Who are you, and what is this place?” Saba asked.

“My name is Riser, and this place is the land of the dead—the Forest of Light. Come, we
must go quickly before she senses your presence. Your life is in danger.”

“Who will sense my presence?” Saba replied, glancing around. This place seemed
peaceful and inviting, though the shimmering light reflecting off the landscape felt oddly
uncomfortable. She recalled a conversation she overheard with Taulie and Shorty about
their experience in the mist while she was tied up in the back of the wagon. Could this be
the place they mentioned, and the creature that emerged from the mist?

Riser reached out her hand to help Saba to her feet, but as she did, a pendant around
Riser’s neck swung forward, dangling in front of Saba’s face. Intrigued, Saba reached for
it, lifted it, and studied it momentarily. “Where did you get this?”

“It was given to me by my mother,” Riser replied nervously, looking around.

Saba turned the pendant over to examine the reverse side. “I’m a student of history;
studying royal bloodlines is one of my specialties. I’ve seen this pendant before. There’s
no question about it. That stone is an Auralite crystal, and this is the pendant of the
Queen, handed down through generations. Of course, it’s just a legend, but the Auralite
crystal is said to possess the power of the light of Imirith, the Quantum Stone of time
and space. Depending on its age, it could be a forgery. I haven’t seen one as detailed as
this.”

Riser smiled humbly. “You are well-educated my dear.”

Saba released the pendant, allowing Riser to feel its weight return. Saba said, “It was
said to be lost when the queen disappeared many years ago. She was the mother of
Prince Elias and the Queen of King Jaheim. Some say the King put it away, never to lay
eyes on it again.” Saba looked directly into Riser’s eyes. “Her name was Amara Riser,

better known to her people as the great Queen Riser. Her humanitarian efforts were
widely known; she was beloved by all, hence her great name. She had bright green eyes
just like yours.
Riser smiled and said, “Yes, I know, and you are correct. This is the pendant of the
Queen.”

Saba, kneeling on one knee, bowed her head humbly. “My Queen.”

Riser extended her hand. “Come, my dear. This is not the time, and certainly not the
place. Stand up.”
Saba grasped Riser’s hand, her eyes narrowing as she searched Riser’s face for answers.
“But how can this be? You vanished over eighteen years ago, and yet here you are,
looking just the same as I remember—no older than me! Hold on a second! The queen
had a distinct white streak in her hair… I was just a child, but that detail has always
stuck with me.”
Riser calmly replied, “As you mentioned, my dear, I am 18 years younger. It seems I
haven’t earned it yet.”

Keeping a cautious eye on their surroundings, Riser took Saba’s arm and led her away
from the riverbank. “It feels like just yesterday that I got trapped in this place.”

Saba touched her hair and clothing. “I’m completely dry. How is all of this possible?”

Riser remained vigilant. “In this place, anything is possible. Time has no boundaries
here.” She held out her arm, and a butterfly landed on it. “Look at this butterfly. It may
be a week old, a year old, or even a thousand years old. In this place, time stands still.”

As they continued to walk, Riser suddenly stopped, stepping in front of Saba. Something
was rustling in the bushes. “Stay behind me, no matter what happens.” The bush shook

again, and a little rabbit jumped out. With a sigh of relief, Riser said, “Those three little
devils are always lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce on anything human.”

Saba watched the adorable rabbit hop by. “Why should we fear when the animals of the
forest do not?”

Riser continued to walk cautiously, Riser said, her eyes fixed forward. “ Animals don’t
have souls; they live through instinct, with no lifetime memories. These creatures have
no interest in them. They’re looking for souls with memories. Anyway, most of the
animals have left this place. There is no food for them. This place is not what it seems.
It’s one giant illusion.

By now, they would have known that you are here. Hmmm, perhaps because you came
from underneath the water rather than through the mist. The mist triggers an alert
when you pass through it. We could have a chance. We should go quickly, I have to hide
you.”

Chapter: 49

The great fire

The rooster crowed as the sun rose. Sunlight spilled onto the palace balcony, pushing
the darkness away. It crept slowly into the room, across the walkway and over the
elaborately cushioned chairs, until finally finding the edge of the royal bed.
Under the sheets lay the shape of a man fast asleep.

The rooster crowed again, and the man jolted upright in his bed, drenched in sweat, his
eyes wide, he called out, “No, stop!”

A forceful knock came at the door, and a voice called out, “Are you okay, Your
Highness?” Prince Elias, still slightly in shock from his dream, hesitated before finally

replying, “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” He shook the cobwebs of the nightmare he had just
experienced from his mind.

The voice behind the door pressed, “Your Highness, may I please enter?” Elias
recognized the voice as that of his chancellor. “Just give me a minute,” he replied.

Elias got up from his bed, splashed some water on his face to wash away the sweat he
had accumulated, and put on his robe. “Okay, you may enter,” he announced.

The Chancellor stepped into the room. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I heard you yell. Did
you have another nightmare?” Elias, attempting to downplay it, replied, “it’s nothing.
Not a big deal. I’m fine.”

The Chancellor looked hesitant as he tried to speak. Elias interrupted, “Did you instruct
the caravan to separate and store the goods from the perishables as I instructed?”

“Yes Your Highness,” the Chancellor replied.

“Did you check the manifest to ensure nothing was left out?” Elias continued.

“Yes Your Highness.” Then the Chancellor added, “But I must speak with you. I have
important news.”

“Did you check on my father to see how he’s doing? He was exhausted after our long
journey.”

“Yes Your Highness, he’s fine. He’s resting.”

“Sire, I’m sorry to bother you, but I have urgent news.”

Elias peeked his head out of the balcony window and asked, “What’s happening in the
courtyard? Why is everyone standing around?”

“I’m not sure Your Highness,” the Chancellor quickly responded.

“Look for yourself. Nobody’s working,” Elias urged as he continued to dress.

The Chancellor nervously glanced out of the balcony door, then cleared his throat. , “I’m
not sure.” Elias snapped back, “Then what are you sure of?”

The Chancellor, now sweating, replied, “I have urgent news!”

Prince Elias recognized the Chancellor’s panicked tone; he was always fussing about
something. Abruptly, Elias said, “Don’t tell me you lost the goat or that the mules got out
of the barn again and ate the corn.”

The Chancellor wiped his brow with a rag, visibly sweating. “No,sire, nothing like that.”

Elias exhaled impatiently. “What is it, man? Speak up!”

The Chancellor blurted out, “Somebody broke into the archive room!”

With urgency in his voice, the Prince replied, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?
Did you notify the chief of staff? Have you conducted an investigation? Where is Saba?”

The Chancellor, sounding confused, replied, “Yes, Your Highness. I mean, no, Your
Highness. I—”

“Tell me what you do know,” Elias insisted.

Wiping his brow again, the Chancellor said, “Some very old maps are missing, the room
was turned upside down, and many documents were destroyed.”

“Why isn’t Saba with you?” Elias asked sharply.

“I don’t know, Your Highness. She has also disappeared. We found wagon tracks by the
side of her office that we cannot identify. We’re unsure what to do.”

Elias leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard as he pondered the situation. “How
long ago did this happen?”

“Just after you left,” the Chancellor replied. “It’s been about a week.”

Just then, the commotion in the courtyard grew even louder as more people gathered.
Trying to concentrate, Elias asked the Chancellor, “What’s going on outside?”

The Chancellor nodded and stepped out onto the balcony. He called out to the head
chef, who was surprisingly among the crowd, gazing out at the horizon.

“Your Highness,” the Chancellor said as he returned, “please come out here. We may
have an even bigger problem.”

Elias walked out onto the balcony, and the Chancellor pointed toward the distant
rainforest. Smoke billowed into the sky.

“It’s a fire, and it looks like it’s out of control. If the fire continues on this path, we could
lose half the city.”

Elias quickly grasped the gravity of the situation. The fire was massive and advancing
toward the eastern villages. Speaking with authority, he commanded, “Sound the alarm!
Gather all my warriors and the rest of the staff. Pull the field hands and workers off their
duties and bring them to me in the courtyard. Get me Jonah!”

The Chancellor called out to one of the field hand supervisors to bring Jonah to the
prince immediately. The supervisor responded, “Sir, he’s already gone. As soon as he
saw the smoke, he left. The fire is heading straight for his village.”

Hearing this, Elias abruptly went back into his chambers, picked up his Kemmo fighting
stick, and slung it onto his back.

“Should we inform the King?” the chancellor asked.

“No,” Elias replied. “Let him rest; he is tired from the journey. We will handle this crisis
ourselves. But before we leave, I want to examine those wagon tracks. They may be
connected to Saba’s disappearance.”

Chapter: 50
Chaos
Elias and his team surged toward the heart of the rainforest, where the flames roared
hungrily, devouring everything in their path. The fire had already consumed half the
village, and pandemonium reigned. Terrified farm animals darted in every direction,
followed by villagers who had nowhere to flee. Mothers clung to their children in fear as
they watched their husbands desperately carry buckets of water from the Kinshasa river
to extinguish the flames engulfing their homes.
Amid the chaos, Elias sprang into action. With a commanding presence, he sent his
troops to assist in extinguishing the burning huts. He then instructed the villagers to
channel water from the Kinshasa river to the rainforest’s edge.
“We must dig trenches! We need to stop this fire from spreading!” Elias shouted,
urgency lacing his voice. With a wagon full of shovels and buckets brought from the
palace, they formed a line and began digging a ditch along the edge of the rainforest,
connecting it with the river water to create a barrier against the raging flames. Warriors
stood guard, ushering women, children, and the elderly to safety, guiding them away
from the relentless heat.

As he assessed the scene, something caught Elias’s eye—a wheel from one of the
water-fetching wagons. It bore a striking resemblance to the tracks he had seen before
leaving the palace, identifiable by its unique thickness and craftsmanship. This meant
that the wagon had originated from this village. But why would a wagon come all the
way to his palace and then leave abruptly? This was a mystery, and it seemed connected
to Saba’s disappearance.
With each decisive command, Elias fought against the catastrophe, his swift actions
saved many lives and homes. He was driven not only by the urgency of the moment but
also by a nagging feeling that the chaos surrounding him was just the beginning of a
deeper story waiting to unfold.

Chapter: 51

Elias’s dirty face

Elias recognized this area; This was where Jonah lived, and not far from Jacob‘s Would
shop. But where was Jonah? Why wasn’t he out here instructing the people in such an
emergency?
Elias vaguely remembered where Jonah’s house was.
Smoke lingered in the air as Elias stepped onto Jonah’s porch. The front door was wide
open, and Elias entered the house. Inside, Jonah was frantically grabbing items from a
drawer and stuffing them into a backpack on a table, as if he were packing to leave.
Jonah didn’t even look up when Elias walked in.

“Jonah, it’s me, Elias! What are you doing? Where are you going? We’ve been looking
for you,” Elias called out. Jonah appeared half-crazed, hardly acknowledging his
presence. Elias glanced around, noting there were three doors leading to different
rooms. This must have been their main living quarters. A dining table with chairs sat in
the middle, surrounded by several seating areas. A kitchen was to his right, and the
walls were decorated with pictures of Jonah’s wife and family.

“Jonah, wake up!” Elias shouted, trying to get his attention. Jonah kept repeating, “I
must find her, I must find her.” Concerned, Elias grabbed Jonah by the shoulders and
maneuvered him into a chair at the table, attempting to calm him down.
Suddenly, the door at the back of the house swung open, and Shekinah, Jonah’s
youngest daughter, stepped inside. “Hey! Take your hands off my father!” Elias quickly
lifted his head, unable to believe his eyes—this was the young maiden from the fountain.
Shekinah shouted, “The barbarian? What are you doing here? I told you to take your
hands off my father!” Elias instinctively stood up and released Jonah, whose head fell
onto the table with a thud. Dazed, Jonah rubbed his head and weakly said, “Shekinah,
don’t worry. It’s Prince Elias.”
Jonah added, “Your Highness, this is my daughter Shekinah.” Elias stepped back,
surprised. “I thought she had a face like a pig,” he muttered.
Furiously, Shekinah stepped forward. “How dare you, prince or no prince! You come
into my house, shake up my father, and then call me a pig?” She pushed Elias aside and
grabbed her slightly dazed father by the shoulders, the way Elias had been holding him.
Elias quickly corrected himself. “Oh, I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I was thinking about
something else.” He reached out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again. My name is
Elias.”
With a slightly forgiving expression, Shekinah reluctantly extended her hand,
momentarily forgetting she was still holding her father. When she released him, Jonah’s
head fell back onto the table with a thump.
“Oh, Dad,” Shekinah exclaimed, placing her hand over her mouth. Jonah waved his
hand over his head, his face pressed flat against the table. Dazed and sounding a little
drunk from hitting his head, he said, “It’s OK. I’m fine. Just neither of you help me
anymore. Please, go over there and talk for my sake.”

Shekinah responded, “OK, Father, you rest.” Jonah waved his hand again, signaling that
he was fine.
Reluctantly, Shekinah reached her hand out again and placed it in Elias’s, saying, “Nice
to meet you.” The prince felt something he had never experienced before. Despite being
covered in smoke and soot, she was still beautiful and spirited, and he was undeniably
attracted to her.
Elias, slightly speechless, said, “It’s a pleasure. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I’m
sorry for entering your house uninvited. So, you are Jonah’s daughter?” Shekinah
observed his dirty face and couldn’t help but smile. However, her expression changed as
she remembered why her father was upset. Stepping aggressively toward Elias and
looking him in the eye, she said, “Have you seen my sister? I know she’s been working in
the palace on the new wing. You must have seen her.”
Elias, slightly mesmerized by her gaze, replied, “I’ve been away for a while. I haven’t
seen her since I left.” Shekinah, slightly angry and using a firm tone, responded, “You
must help us find her! She didn’t come home last night. What are you going to do about
it?”
Jonah echoed weakly, “Yes, she didn’t come home last night. I’ve been up all night
searching the village for her. Jonah got up from the chair that he was sitting in, slightly
stumbling. “I’m going into the rainforest to look for her. She might be hurt, or trapped.
She needs my help.”
Elias placed a hand on Jonah’s back. “You’re in no condition to go, and it’s dangerous.
The fire is still smoldering in some areas.” He then looked at Shekinah and added,
“Don’t worry; I will find her. I promise to bring her back unharmed. Tend to your father;
he’s a good man.” He didn’t want to alarm Jonah, but he knew there was something
more to this situation, and it involved Saba’s disappearance.
As Elias turned to leave, Shekinah called out, “Wait!” She picked up a rag from the
kitchen, dipped it in a bucket of water, and approached him. Gently, she began cleaning

his face with the cloth. Elias and Shekinah locked eyes, and a spark of connection filled
their hearts.
After she finished cleaning his face, Shekinah said, “There! At least you’ll look
presentable when you bring back my sister.” Elias, with a serious yet teasing smile,
replied, “Even a barbarian should have a clean face. Thank you.” He stepped outside and
called for two of his most loyal warriors to follow him.
Chapter: 52

Seaworthy

The Errin was loaded and secured, ready for her return voyage. Valdemar had taken
care of everything, except for scraping the barnacles off the hull. The ship was seaworthy
and prepared to set sail. Valdemar sat in his cabin, looking into his reflection. He had
been rehearsing his speech, trying to find the right words to tell his father that he was
leaving.

“Father, I know you’re going to be upset, but I will not be returning with you on this
voyage. However, I will be here waiting for you the next time you come back to visit.
Who knows, you might have a grandson. I was thinking of naming him Sylvester after
you. You could tell him all about your adventures. Maybe I could convince you to retire
and stay here with us. We could all live together as a family.”

Suddenly, Valdemar heard rustling outside on the deck and voices. “It’s the Captain,” he
thought. Quickly straightening himself, he looked at his reflection with a confident stare,
touching Saba’s scarf around his neck. He told himself he could do this. Nervously, he
stepped out of his cabin and into the sea air.

The crewmen were busier than usual, putting in extra effort into their tasks. The Baron
had finally returned from his long journey. Valdemar walked over to the side of the ship
and looked down. On the dock stood the Baron, his two crewmates, and his Guide. The
Baron was in conversation with the Guide.

“Good work; I couldn’t have done it without you,” the Captain said, pulling out a pouch
of coins. “Here is your reward.” The Guide looked at the pouch in surprise. “Thank you,
Captain; that’s more than generous,” he replied, extending his hand to receive the
payment. But the Captain pulled the bag back and added, “I just want to make one thing
clear, matey: you haven’t seen anything, and you don’t know anything. Is that right?”

The Guide responded, “Yes, sir, Captain.” The Baron grinned. “That’s what I want to
hear.” He handed the pouch of coins to the Guide, who began counting the money as he
walked off the pier.

Taulie and Shorty, excited to see the Erron, eagerly made their way to the entrance
plank. Anxiously glancing at the Captain, they waited for his permission to board. The
Baron turned and nodded, giving them the okay. They quickly scurried up the plank and
onto the ship. Taulie dropped to his knees and kissed the deck, while Shorty hugged the
center post attached to the main sail. Together, they sighed with relief and exclaimed,
“Home at last.”

Before stepping onto the plank, the Baron checked the pier to ensure everything seemed
normal. He walked up the plank and stood on deck, feeling good to be back on his ship.
He could feel the water beneath his feet as the Erron rocked back and forth, a familiar
feeling of comfort and safety for the Baron. He then ordered all his men to start making
preparations to set sail.

Chapter: 53

Never be the same

Valdemar stepped up to his father. “How was your journey, Father?” The Baron ignored
the question and immediately began barking orders. “Is everything stored, tied off, and
locked down?”
“Yes, Father,” Valdemar replied. The Baron continued, “Have the freshwater tanks been
filled and the galley fully supplied?” Valdemar answered a bit louder, “Yes Father.”
“Then prepare for lunch.” The Baron turned and walked away, focused on another task.
Valdemar took a deep breath and stepped in front of his father. “Please, Father, I must
speak to you about something very important.” The Baron, caught up in his escape from
this port, had forgotten he would have to deal with Valdemar. His expression shifted to a
contrived sad face, and he used a softer tone, preparing his act. He turned his head away
to look out at the harbor.
“Oh yes, I have some bad news for you, my son. It concerns your young lady friend,
Saba. It is very sad. Something unfortunate has happened—there’s been a serious fire,”
he said, squinting as he pointed towards the kingdom city. Valdemar quickly glanced in
the direction and noticed smoke rising from the rainforest region and the nearby
villages. The Baron, feigning concern, continued, “It’s been burning for days. Didn’t you
notice?”
Valdemar looked confused. “I’ve been busy working.” The Baron smiled to himself. “It
was terrible. We got out just in time. The fire was unstoppable; so many people have lost
their homes and lives. I wish I could have done something, but of course, we didn’t find
out until it was too late.”
Valdemar was panic-stricken. “What are you talking about? What happened to Saba?”
He stood motionless, focusing on the distant rainforest. The Baron put his hands in his
pockets and started to pace around Valdemar. When he reached Valdemar’s blind side,
he waved his hands aggressively at his crew, ordering them to start pulling up the
anchor. He quickly returned his hands to his pockets so Valdemar wouldn’t notice.
Pacing back in front of Valdemar, he cleared his throat.
“Yes, how terrible! She got caught in the blaze, the villagers told us. At first, I didn’t
believe it, but then I saw it for myself. Here’s your ring,” he said, pulling the ring out of
his vest pocket and handing it to Valdemar. Valdemar looked down at the ring in
disbelief. The Baron sorrowfully said, “The chief gave me your ring after they found her
ashes.” Valdemar fell to his knees, unable to comprehend what he was hearing. He

couldn’t deny that Saba would never have taken his ring off her finger, just as he would
never remove Saba’s scarf.
“I’m so sorry,” the Baron said, feigning sympathy. “I wish I could have done more.”
Tears filled Valdemar’s eyes and streamed down his cheeks.
“I know, my son, I know. But you mustn’t let this weigh you down. You have to move
forward and keep going. It’s what she would have wanted.” The entire crew stood still,
listening to the Baron. Brendel pulled out his handkerchief, wiping away his tears. The
crew felt sad for Valdemar, but as much as they cared for him, they feared the Baron
even more. The Baron glanced at his first mate and gestured for him to keep the crew
moving. He feigned a sad sigh and gave Valdemar an awkward pat on the back before
turning away, an evil grin creeping onto his face. Everything had gone as planned.
“Captain! We are ready to set sail!” The Baron looked up at the sails as the crewmen
adjusted them to catch the wind. He walked to the helm and took the wheel of the ship,
exuding defiance and satisfaction as he looked out to sea. He checked his direction and
navigational coordinates, then yelled, “Let’s ship out!” The crewman released the loops
from the dock posts and jumped onto the ship. The mighty Errin turned into the wind,
moving away from the docks and out into the harbor. Valdemar, still on his knees on
deck with his head down, felt utterly heartbroken, but soon his despair shifted to anger.
His life would never be the same. The Baron was right: life was not suited for the
good-hearted; one must take what they want and discard the rest. Valdemar stood up
and faced the front of the ship. As the ship turned away from the sun, the Baron shadow
covered Valdemar. In that defining moment, he took the scarf from around his neck,
wrapped it around his fist, and defiantly swore never to let his emotions lead his path
again. With his eyes closed, he wiped his tears with Saba’s scarf. He looked out at the
Horizon, the boy that was once full of love and excited for his future was now empty and
full of anger.

Chapter: 54

Dagger’s broken heart
As the ship slipped away from the harbor, the vibrant colors of the sunset cast a golden
hue over the dock. Little Dagger finally arrived, her heart racing with a glimmer of hope.
Leaping atop one of the weathered docking posts, she stood tall on her hind legs,
desperately calling out to Valdemar, who was stationed at the ship’s bow. But alas, the
distance was too great; her tiny voice was lost in the wind, swallowed by the waves. In
that agonizing moment, Dagger realized she would never again see the one she adored.

A profound sadness washed over her, filling her eyes with tears. She yearned for his
presence, her spirit aching with the knowledge that time would change him.
As she turned to leave, a heavy heart weighed her down, and she glanced back—If only
she had been on time; if only Valdemar could have known that Saba was still alive and in
peril. He would have rushed to her rescue without hesitation.
The Errin, with its sails full and proud, charted its course into the boundless sea, leaving
behind unanswered questions and unspoken truths. What had transpired could never be
erased. For Valdemar, the memories of this day would fade with time, etched in the
depths of his heart but to be overshadowed by the Barons’ evil teachings. The vast
oceans held countless mysteries and challenges, waiting for him to conquer them. He
would truly now become his father‘s son.

Chapter: 55
Search for Saba
Prince Elias and his warriors were journeying deep into the rainforest, trying to pick up
Saba’s trail. He ordered his warriors, “Let’s split up to cover more ground. You two will
take the west and south, and I will go north.” They all headed off in different directions.
Elias eventually stumbled upon a set of fresh horse tracks and the wheels of a wagon. He
immediately recognized that these were the same wheel tracks that he had seen at the

palace. He said to himself, “ What would a horse and wagon be doing this far into the
jungle? He continued on, and followed the tracks.
The fire had badly burned this area. As he surveyed the scene, he noted that the trail
had been recently cut, which peaked his interest even more. And then he walked into the
clearing, where he discovered an old abandoned village or whatever was left of it. There
was the wagon that he had been following; it was crushed by a burnt tree that lay on top
of it. Upon examining the wagon, he said, “this is the wagon all right, now why is it here
and what’s the connection. He rubbed his chin to think, and said “somebody stole the
wagon from Jonah’s village and went to the palace at the same time that Saba
disappeared, and now it’s here, in the middle of nowhere.”
He stepped forward, treading on layers of ash. By observing the individual piles, he
could tell that these were once huts, built long ago. “This type of construction is no
longer common. At one point, this had been a thriving village filled with happy
memories, but now it was just ashes in the wind,
These burn marks on the ground were extremely blackened. It was evident that the fire
had started in this area.” Elias Looking around, this village had been abandoned long
ago, but somebody recently was here and started this fire.
Elias kneels down and picks up a short burnt stick; “this was the weapon of choice.
Whoever had done this was clearly trying to hide something, but what.”
Elias glanced up the river to the north, where the rainforest still appeared relatively
undamaged. Suddenly, he heard rustling in the trees, coming from his direction. Quickly
pulling out his kimmo stick, he prepared to defend himself as several deer leapt into
view, jumping over fallen trees and kicking scattered metal cans. The sight could rattle
anyone’s nerves. Elias stood still as the herd raced past him, missing him by mere
inches. “Where are you all going in such a hurry? I guess you’re heading north, away
from the fire; it must still be burning pretty intensely.”
He observed the deer as they dashed through the burnt-out village and upstream along
the side of the riverbank. Witnessing such horrific damage made Elias angry. This fire

had damaged the rainforest and threatened the lives of his people and their villages.
There had to be some connection between Saba’s disappearance and this unnatural fire.
But what was it? Elias wanted to thoroughly investigate the area where he had found the
stick that he believed had started this fire. He felt it would be a good starting point to
search for clues.
Cautiously, he walked through the area, hoping to uncover something that might help
piece together what had happened. He discovered remnants of carved wood, pieces of
rope, Scanning the ground, he noticed some footprints in the dried mud. Some belonged
to a man, while others appeared to be female. He followed the female prints, believing
they belonged to Saba. It seemed that a man had been present, but it looked like he had
gone in another direction while she escaped into the water. The tracks led to the river’s
edge, where she had jumped into the water to escape the fire. Perhaps it was Saba who
had left these tracks.
Elias intended to follow the river upstream to see where it led. Maybe he could find the
location where she swam ashore. It was possible she was hurt and needed help. As he
moved further north, he noticed less fire damage. Suddenly running in all directions
were panicked animals. He saw flashes of them darting through the trees on all sides.
The mist began to rise, covering the surface of the river and creeping onto the dry land.
In a sudden explosion of movement, a bison burst from the dense rainforest, a frayed
rope trailing from its neck, it was a farm animal desperately fleeing the chaos of a
nearby fire. Elias barely had time to react; the hulking beast charged toward him like
a freight train. He managed to shift to the side just in time, but the impact was still
overwhelming, sending him crashing to the jagged rocks by the riverbank.

The bison, in its panic, yanked Elias along with it as its rope snagged around his
ankle. He grasped at the frayed fibers in a frantic attempt to free himself, but the
force of the creature was relentless. In the chaos, his head collided with a rock, and
darkness swallowed him whole, dragging him into a thick mist that enveloped
everything around him. Just like that, he vanished into the swirling haze, leaving no
trace behind.

Chapter: 56

Elias awakens

Elias opened his eyes and found himself lying flat on his back on a bed of soft grass. He
slowly blinked, and the concerned face of a woman with piercing green eyes came into
focus. She looked gentle and sweet, and Elias felt a sense of calm as he looked up at her.
“Are you okay?” she asked. He rubbed his head and replied, “Where am I? What
happened?”
“It seems you got caught up with some sort of large animal. It went that way, and you
ended up here. What’s the last thing you remember?”
“I was looking for a friend of mine, I got caught up with a panicked bison who was
dragging me along the rivers shore and then suddenly everything went black. I must
have hit my head.”
She nodded. “How do you feel now? Besides the splitting headache?”
“I’m…not sure.” She carefully helped him sit up. As he leaned off the ground, he
carefully adjusted the Kimmo stick strapped to his back and turned his attention back to
the woman.
“Do I know you?” he asked. There was something familiar about her, as if he had met
her before.
Before she could respond, Saba’s voice chimed in. “Hi there!”
Elias turned to see Saba. “Saba! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
“Well, your highness, now you’ve found me.” Riser, realizing that this was Prince Elias,
her son, was overwhelmed with emotion. She knew what would happen to him in this
place, and she had to think fast.

Riser stepped away from Elias and gestured for Saba to speak with her alone. Saba
looked down at Elias and said, “Just relax for a minute, your highness. We’ll be right
back.”

Chapter: 57
The Promise

Riser asked, “Is this my son, Prince Elias?” Saba, with a heavy heart, replied, “Yes, my
Queen. What are we going to do now? There’s no visible way out of here.” Riser took
Saba’s two hands and held them close to her body. She looked deeply into Saba’s eyes
and said, “I know this may be difficult for you my child but you must do as I ask. Do not
tell Elias that I am his mother. He is a proud man and would sacrifice himself to save
me. Always remember, he is the next king and carries the royal bloodline. At all costs,
you must keep him out of harm’s way. He is your number one priority. Even if you get
out of this place, he must never know. It will break him and his father. Your Queen is
commanding you. Now promise me.”
Saba got down on one knee, put Riser’s hand against her forehead and said, “you have
my solemn word, I promise, my Queen.” Riser replied, rise my child. We have much to
do.
Everything has changed, but we still have a chance.” With a hopeful tone, she continued,
“I think I figured something out. The same way you swam in, under the water, is the
same way we can swim out. I was watching the fish after I found you, and I have a
theory. As soon as the fish passed a certain point, they just disappeared. They must’ve
ended up on the other side of the mist, which is not visible to us from this side. You see,
it’s one giant illusion. That’s why Raiten wasn’t alerted when you came through; you
didn’t pass through the mist. This must be a way out.”

Saba paused to think; it was the only logical conclusion. “But Elias came through the
mist.” Riser quickly responded, “Yes, but it’s only a matter of time now. She knows we’re

here. We have to get Elias up and head to the river as quickly as possible.” The two
women walked back over to Elias and grabbed his arms, pulling him to his feet. Saba,
still holding Elias’s arm, urged, “We have to leave now.” Elias rubbed the back of his
head and said, “But I’m still recovering. My head hurts.”

“You can recover later; let’s go!” Riser said, glancing in a specific direction. “I know a
shortcut to the river. Follow me.”

Chapter: 58
Lost in time

Elias, still feeling a bit foggy, attempted to keep pace with Saba. Elias said,“Everybody
back home has been worried sick about you. Jonah hasn’t slept in days. I met your
sister; she certainly is a handful. She misses you and wants you home. I’m glad I found
you.”

Saba replied, “You can rescue me when we get back, but for now, we have to keep
moving.” Elias smiled, “Well, either way, you’re safe now.”

Riser and Saba turned to look at Elias and simultaneously said, “Not yet!” Elias ran up
next to Riser. “Are you sure we haven’t met before?”

Riser turned to Elias with her bright green eyes and smiled. “After we get out of this
place, I promise we can get to know each other better. But for now, we have to keep
moving.” Riser glanced over the hills, looking past Elias’s shoulder.

Elias slowed his steps and began to daydream, trying to remember. There’s something in
her eyes, her voice; she seems so familiar to me. I’ve seen that face before. Elias started

to sing a song called “Lost in Time,” walking slower and slower. As the song ended, Elias
stopped and focused on Riser from a short distance away.

Riser sensed something was wrong. Turning to see Elias standing there, looking
confused, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had seen that anxious expression
before. When she returned from one of her long journeys, there he was—always
standing at the door, eagerly awaiting her arrival. She would greet him by placing her
hands on his face and gently saying, “Come, my darling; we have things to do.”

Until one day, she did not come home, and the little boy was left standing at the
doorway, brokenhearted. He was barely two years old when she disappeared.

Now, Riser looked at Elias, standing before her as a grown man, yet wearing that same
anxious expression. Her heart went out to him; she could feel his pain. She walked back
to Elias, who stood motionless and refused to move, just as he had done when he was a
boy. She placed her hands on his face as she used to do and, with a gentle voice, said,
“Come, my darling; we have things to do. The river is only minutes away; we have to
keep moving.”

Watching this emotional moment unfold, Saba recalled the promise she had made to
Queen Riser as she shared her pain. Riser gently took Elias’s hand, and he felt comforted
as they continued their journey to the river.

Chapter: 59

Elias and the three Horatio’s

Out of nowhere, a small Horatio leaped into their path up ahead, causing Elias and Saba
to halt in their tracks. Saba squinted at the peculiar looking creature and asked, “ Riser,
Is that one of those little devils you mentioned?” Riser responded,never taking her eyes
off of the little creature, “yes ,And I suspect the other two aren’t far behind,”

Just then, they spotted the remaining Horatios perched high in the branches above,
eyes gleaming with mischief. In an instant, the duo dove down, landing squarely on
Elias’s and Saba’s backs. Saba let out a startled scream.
Elias, a seasoned warrior, knew these tiny creatures were no match for his strength.
With a swift motion, he snatched the first Horatio off his back, gripping it firmly by the
scruff. Without wasting a moment, he reached around and caught the second little
Horatio from Saba. Now, with both squirming in his grasp, he dangled them at his sides
as they kicked and punched in a flurry of squeaks and squeals, calling out to their sibling
for help.
“What on earth are you?” Elias wondered aloud, inspecting their tiny, frantic faces. At
that moment, the third Horatio, who had been lurking to block their escape, charged at
them with all the bravery of a knight defending his castle. The two Horatios held captive
exchanged determined glances, clasped their hands together, and sighed with
admiration, They watched proudly as their brother barreled forward with a fierce battle
cry and an equally valiant expression. What they didn’t realize was that they were up
against a seasoned warrior, a champion, who was not easily taken down. Elias’s instincts
kicked in; he executed a swift, perfectly timed kick to intercept the little warrior. The
strike landed squarely on Horatio’s throat, producing a comical thumping sound as he
was sent spiraling through the air, landing with a puff in a thick bush. The other two
Horatios watched in stunned silence, disappointment washing over their expressions as
they murmured “Oh” — then fell into an uneasy quiet.
Breaking the tension, the captives began to chatter again in their high-pitched language.
Elias turned to Saba with a raised eyebrow. “Any idea what they’re saying?”
“I haven’t learned to translate ‘demon’ yet, but judging by their body language, I don’t
think they’re inviting us to a feast,” she replied, a playful grin creeping onto her face.
Elias leaned closer to the wriggling creatures. “You two look exhausted.” They shook
their heads fiercely, insisting, “No!”
“Maybe you could use a little nap,” he suggested, his tone lighthearted. Again, they
shook their heads, moving even faster, their squeaky voices denying, “We’re not tired!”

Elias said, “Let me help you out.” The two Horatio’s exchanged wary glances, their eyes
wide, and promptly chimed in unison, “Oh no.”
In a swift motion, he smacked their heads together, producing a loud thump that
knocked them out cold. With a chuckle, he shifted his focus to the third Horatio, who
was still nestled in the bush. “You should join your brother; he looks lonely,” tossing
the other two Horatio headfirst into the same shrub.
“Look, Riser! Over there! We’ve made it!” Saba called out, pointing excitedly. Riser let
out a breath of relief. “The river is just around that bend!” As the shimmering water
came into view, they were mere steps away from freedom. “Elias, turned to riser and
said,“you know you carry my mother’s name.”
At that moment, Riser looked into Elias’s eyes, filled with a mixture of pride and
affection. “You have grown into such a remarkable man, you’re destined to be a great
king.”

Chapter: 60
The return of Raiten
Just as Riser spoke her last words, an aggressive burst of mist appeared in front of them,
stopping them in their tracks. As the mist dissipated, a horse emerged, with its
misty-caped master perched on top. With a powerful breath, The misty horse gave a
sharp snort as it reared, threatening them not to go any further. The Misty Rider spoke.
“Did you hear that, Rebellion?” Raiten stroked her horse, releasing a puff of mist, as
Rebellion responded with a loving “neigh.” Elias flipped his kimmo fighting stick from
his back and stood ready to fight. Raiten looked down at the three of them. “Did you say
‘King’? They must be talking about that good-looking one who is ready to fight. He’s the
only male.” Raiten pointed her misty finger at Elias. “Are you a king? You seem so
young.”

Raiten glanced over at the bush where her three Horatios were sticking out feet-first. “I
see you’ve met my three pests. They can be helpful sometimes.” Using her tough-guy
voice, Raiten exclaimed, “But not against a big, strong king like you… What did you say
your name was?”
With a shaky but firm response, Elias said, “I didn’t say, but my name is Elias.”
“Okay, King Elias. It seems that you’ve forced my three mindless fools into taking an
early afternoon nap.” Elias couldn’t believe his eyes. He did not believe in spirits or
ghosts, but here one was, and it had an attitude. Elias gripped his stick tightly and said,
“I am a prince, a direct bloodline of the King, and the next in line to take the throne. If
you make one step closer to us, I will use deadly force.”
Raiten smiled. “I’d like to see that. Well, at least he is brave; I haven’t had a good fight in
a long time. Could it be possible— the son of the king? This is better than I expected. I
haven’t had a fun day since… Let me think… oh yes, when I messed up Centra’s hair. She
was so mad.” Raiten giggled like a schoolgirl, then quickly changed her tone. “And when
I hammered the rest of those prophets. Oh, how I enjoyed the good old days— and I
mean old.”
Elias, confused, asked, “Are you talking about the shopkeeper Sherman’s cute little cat
named Centra?”
Raiten looked surprised. “So that’s where you got that stick. You must’ve met Sherman?
That no-good, low-down dirty dog— and I like dogs, but not his kind. He named his cat
Centra? His magic is weak and he’s a sentimental fool. He still can’t get over her.” She
leaned over and started to whisper in Rebellion’s ear. “Obviously, Sherman has some
sort of plan for this guy. This could be my chance to get my hands on the Crystal and get
my revenge on Sherman at the same time. At least, if I can’t get the crystal amulet, I
could take the young prince and maybe make some sort of deal with the sisters. Let’s try
to figure this out.”
With her misty finger, she created a chart. “He is the Prince—check. Soon to be
king—check. The sisters might like that; I know I do—check, check. This works both

ways: I end the King’s bloodline, and the witches get what they want, a royal soul. Now
is my time to cash out. This might work. But does he have any children? He looks too
young. I need to find out.”
Raiten wiped out her misty chart with a swipe of her hand and then lifted her head,
smiling at Elias. “Did you know we are related? I’m actually your great, great, great
aunt—maybe there are even more greats, but whatever. It’s nice to meet you after all this
time.” Raiten extended her misty hand as a gesture of friendship.
Elias was astonished and nervous, yelling out “Don’t come any closer.” Raiten pulled her
hand back onto her lap. Elias stepped back. Raiten frowned and replied, “Don’t be
frightened, at least not yet. I would just like to know if I have any nieces or nephews. Do
you have any children?”
Riser called out to Elias, “Don’t tell her anything!”
Raiten quickly became thunderously angry, her eyes turning bloodshot red. She pointed
her finger at Riser and shouted with a tumultuous voice, “Silence! This does not concern
you!” Elias called out to Raiten, trying to take her evil focus away from Riser. “What are
you talking about? I have not yet chosen my queen.”
Raiten calmed down immediately and smiled again, her voice sweet. “Well, is it too
much to ask, but could I be invited to the wedding? I’m an excellent dancer, and I have
been known to give gifts that will last— and with a deep, dark, sinister voice—forever…”
Elias responded, “You’re insane.”
“Try living in this place for 3,000 years; let’s see how you turn out. Maybe it is too early
in our relationship, but when you get to know me better, you’ll feel differently, I
promise,a whole lot different. By the way, that stick you’re holding belongs to me, and I
would like for you to give it back.”
Saba spoke up, “What do you want from us?!”
Raiten looked at Riser and said. “Who is this one?” Referring to Saba.

Raiten continued answering her own question, “oh,I know you! I recognize that voice.
She is so annoying, blah blah blah.” Saba felt a bit insulted and said. “What are you? A
creature, a ghost, a dark spirit? How do you even exist?” Raiten looked at Riser. “What is
this, twenty-one questions? I told you she’s annoying.”
Raiten turned to Saba. “OK, I’ll give it to you straight. I heard everything you said to that
pirate in the hut. I hear every sound inside my mist. You certainly can talk. Let me tell
you something, honey: I bet you’re always trying to fix people by lecturing them to
death. You’re one of those control freaks, aren’t you?” Raiten spoke as if she knew her.
She continued, “I know you’re kind because I used to be just like you—always wanting to
do things my way. Well, you can’t fix anybody who doesn’t want to be fixed. Look how I
ended up. Keep that up, and you’re going to end up lonely. Take some advice: it may not
last long, but for whatever it’s worth, say less and listen more next time you’re
compelled to speak, which is probably now.”
Saba was about to respond. “Just don’t. It pisses everybody off.” For the first time in her
life, Saba was speechless. Raiten turned to Riser, “And as far as you’re concerned, lady,
stop trying to save the world. Look where it got you. Before all of you start thanking me
for my brief analysis of your twisted psychological profiles, I’m going to let you in on a
little secret: I give great advice, but it doesn’t last long—especially here. In your case,
probably another three minutes. Then you’ll plead for your life. All those things you
thought were so important will become meaningless in the face of your inevitability.”
Raiten used a sarcastic, high-pitched voice. “No, please, please no! Where am I?” she
mocked, drooling. “It’s always the same—even the bravest break down just like every
other sinful soul. That’s why I don’t mess with babies and animals; they’re innocent, and
they haven’t been corrupted. No juicy memories.”
Raiten flipped her foot over the top of Rebellion’s saddle and slid off onto the ground
with a whoosh of misty particles. Elias said, “Stay back.” Raiten, with a sweet face, spoke
directly to the women. “I’ll make you ladies a deal. I know you have that Crystal amulet,
and I can’t come too close while it’s in your possession. But you can’t protect everybody
at the same time. I’ll definitely pick you off one by one. Look, if you give me the male

and place the amulet on the ground, you two ladies can live, and I won’t bother you for
as long as you’re here—which is like until the end of time, give or take a couple of
minutes. I promise—cross my heart and hope to die.”
Raiten crossed her heart with her misty finger and then quickly turned to Rebellion,
whispering, “Might be too late for that. Ladies, one female to another: think about it. It’s
hard enough being a woman in a man’s world. You’ve got to be flexible. All I really want
is that male and that heavy amulet you have hanging around your neck. Ugh, what a
burden. Now, what do you say?”
Riser aggressively reached for the Crystal amulet around her neck and prepared to put
forth its power. Raiten sensed the hostility and made her move. “I guess plan A didn’t
work out. We’ll move on to Plan B.”
Raiten quickly conjured a misty bow and a flaming arrow, shooting it directly at Riser.
Elias, the noble man that he is, quickly stepped in front of Riser. “Elias, no! Riser called
out.” It was too late, Elias had taken his position and was ready to take on the impact.
Holding his Kimmo fighting stick in front of him, he braced himself, hoping to deflect
the arrow attack. Being a trained warrior with lightning reflexes, Elias executed an
aggressive defensive move, hitting the flaming arrow before it reached its target. But to
everyone’s surprise. The arrow was magically absorbed into the Kimmo stick with a
small puff of mist trailing behind it.
Frustrated, Raiten yelled, “Come on! That’s not fair; that’s my stick!” As she continued
to shoot arrow after arrow, Elias made precise defensive moves, and each time the
Kimmo stick absorbed the deadly misty attack.
Elias said, “Sherman has done well by giving me this enchanted stick, as if he knew this
day would come.”

Chapter: 61

The curse
Riser lifted the amulet from under her shirt and removed it from around her neck. The
Crystal was already glowing. She held it straight out in Raiten’s face. “This is what I have
to offer.” Instantly, a blinding, intense light burst from the crystal striking Raiten in the
face. With an eerie, high-pitched scream she staggered backward, covering her face and
body with her misty cape. Rebellion also couldn’t handle the light so she backed up to
give her master room knowing what was coming.
Raiten’s misty bones began to crack unnaturally under her cape. As they watched sharp
edges protruding in all directions growing in size. Something unnatural was happening
underneath that cape, and they were about to find out what that something is.
The cape finally fell to the ground , revealing a creature, monster, and unearthly demon
with one unnatural thought in its mind to absorb your memories and eat your soul.
Riser raised the crystal even higher as the light intensified. Riser said, “back, you
sorcerer’s disciple. “You will not take my children today.” The creature, which was once
Raiten and very talkative,had nothing to say. With blood shot eyes and teeth sharp
enough to bite through the stump of a tree, its only reply was a deep terminal growled.
The creature stood in an eerie looking motionless position, staring at their every move.
“Saba, Elias get behind me”, Riser said.
Using her arm to push Saba and Elias, towards the edge of the river. Suddenly, the
winds started to pick up as dark clouds filled the sky. Riser shouted to Saba and Elias,
“Get into the river, now!”
Elias, concerned, asked, “What about you?”
Riser and keeping one eye on the creature, she replied,“Don’t worry about me, you are
the next king and you must get out of this possessed spirit world . Follow Saba, She
knows the way out. She looked deeply into his eyes and she said, my son, I am so proud
of you. The love I have for you is boundless and I will always be with you. And with that

she placed the Aurilite crystal necklace around Elias’s neck and said,Tell your father I’m
sorry, and I’ll be waiting.
Elias responded. “What are you talking about? You’re coming with us. Who are you?
Riser spoke to Saba, “I’m gonna try to buy you some time, or you’ll never make it. ”
Saba’s heart was breaking. She had to keep her promise. Riser gestures to Saba to pull
Elias away from the edge of the shore and into the middle of the lake.
The wind rustled the trees, and the clouds rumbled with thunder. Raiten suddenly
breaks out with a demonic roar, deeper and louder than before, as if she was calling for
something.
But the light from the Crystal continued its Radiant barricade.
Saba knew that saving the prince was of utmost importance, but at what cost?
Reluctantly, she grabbed Elias by the arm and forcefully pulled him toward the center of
the river. Elias couldn’t take his eyes off Riser; she wore a look of contentment as she
stared back, watching them move to the center of the lake.
Once they reach the safe enough distance. She was no longer protected by the light of
the crystal.
Now defenseless, Raiten moved swiftly towards Riser.
Riser taunted, “OK, you beast, try and catch me!” In an instant, Raiten lunged forward,
her massive jaws snapping ominously at Riser. But Riser was prepared and darted
behind one tree, then another, narrowly missing the beast’s snapping jaws.
Saba and Elias watched nervously as this game of cat and mouse took place. Riser had
accomplished her mission, and there was nothing left to do but surrender to the
creature’s aggression. Riser stopped running, turned, and looked at her son for the last
time. Elias watched in horror as the creature consumed her, a scream of agony tearing
from his throat, “No, no!”

Meanwhile, Saba had found her way back to the spot where she had first surfaced into
this chaotic world. The monstrous Raiten shifted her focus, attempting to pursue them,
but the brilliance of the Crystal’s light held her at bay. Suddenly, the creature morphed
back into her original form.
“I see you’ve found a way out, clever girl. But you will not escape so easily,” she said. The
wind howled with fury, uprooting trees and sending leaves swirling like a tempest
around them. Thunder boomed overhead, shaking the very ground. With a wicked
gleam in her eyes, Raiten lifted her hands and declared, “I summon all the dark spirits
to aid me. Help me create a spell worthy of a King.”
As another thunderclap echoed, Raiten’s eyes fixed contemptuously on Elias, who met
her gaze with fierce hatred. Her bloodshot eyes suddenly transformed to white, and her
voice boomed like a raging storm. Raiten proclaimed, “This is your end! I curse your
existence. The land will go dry, and your people will go hungry. You shall be the last of
your kind; none will follow you. No king shall ever inherit your throne, and the royal
bloodline will end… with you. This burden is yours to bear—until the end of your days!”
A swirling funnel of mist surrounded Raiten, animated by a gray light. With a sudden
jolt, the mist shot across the surface of the lake. Like a demonic hand, its eerie fingers
found their way to Elias, enveloping him. Although the light from the crystal was still
doing its job, it did not affect the mist. Elias had no choice but to inhale the deadly
particles of the curse. As the gray light filtered through his body, he felt strange. He
suddenly became lightheaded and could barely stay afloat.
Saba tried to avoid the mist, but she too inhaled some—not as deeply as Elias, but
enough for it to affect her. Raiten’s voice echoed around them as she said, “Sleep, and let
the water overtake you, or live and remember me in your darkest dreams. It is done!”
Her laughter mingled with the crack of lightning.
Just then, a wooden tree limb came flying through the air, narrowly missing Elias and
Saba before splashing into the water beside them. Then another limb followed, and
another. Saba looked up to see three little demons throwing anything they could get
their hands on.

Elias started to go under the water’s surface. Without hesitation, Saba seized Elias and
held him tightly under her arm, pulling him deeper into the lake to avoid the flying
debris. It was hard enough to keep herself afloat, let alone both of them. “Elias, wake
up!” she urged. “You have to wake up!” It was no use; he was unconscious. She knew
that if she pulled Elias under, the necklace might come off and float to the bottom of the
lake, leaving them helpless. Quickly, she took the necklace off from around Elias’s neck
and pushed it into his pocket. She felt weak; she didn’t know how much longer she could
hang on. “Here we go, may the spirit gods be with us,”she pulled him beneath the
water’s surface and dragged him downstream with all her strength as chaos raged above
them.

Chapter: 62
Elias the hero
Holding her breath for as long as she could, Saba finally broke through the surface of the
lake, shaking the water from her eyes. With a sigh of relief, she realized they had made it
back to the abandoned village. Using her last ounce of strength, she swam to the river’s
edge, pulling Elias’s body onto dry ground.

Exhausted, Saba collapsed onto the soft grass and drifted into a deep sleep. After an
unknown amount of time had passed, Elias woke up and looked around. He saw Saba
lying next to him, asleep. Filled with concern, he checked to see if she was okay. “Thank
heavens,” he said, relieved. “She’s all right.” He gently shook her to wake her.

Saba opened her eyes and smiled when she saw Elias. He asked, “What happened?”

Saba replied, “I’m not sure.”

Elias responded, “The last thing I remember is a charging ox knocking me down. I must
have hit my head.” He felt the top of his head and grimaced in pain. “And here’s the
lump to prove it.”

Saba was about to tell the tale of what had happened, but then she thought about her
promise. She considered whether Elias was meant to remember and decided to let it
come to him in his own time, when he was ready. She didn’t want to burden him after
his overwhelming ordeal.

So Saba responded, “The last thing I remember is jumping into the water to escape the
fire.”

As she rubbed her neck to ease an uncomfortable strain, she realized the leather tube
was still around her shoulder. With some vigor, she said, “For what it’s worth, here’s the
manuscript from the archive room that was stolen!”

Elias responded, “Yes, now I remember, you were missing. That’s why I’m here. I
promised your father and your sister that I would bring you back.”

Saba smiled. “So you met my sister, Shekinah?”

Elias chuckled. “Yes, she certainly is a handful.”

Saba grinned. “You don’t know the half of it. My sister could run a country. Well, the
good news is you found me.”

Elias stood up and searched for his fighting stick. Holding it in his hands, he said, “I feel
like I was in a fight. I must have had another one of my bad dreams, but this time it
seems so real.”

Saba, knowing the truth, spoke under her breath, “More real than you realize, my
prince.”

Elias helped Saba to her feet. “We should head back to your village; your father was
distraught. The path is over there by that broken wagon.”

Saba said, “I know that wagon; we’ve become acquainted. I’ll explain everything on the
way back.” She told Elias everything that happened with the archive room robbery and
what the Baron had done.

She emphasized, “Valdemar was innocent and had no part in the Baron’s fiendish
plans.” Elias promised her that he would take action as soon as they returned to the
palace.

As they made their way out of the rainforest, they were relieved to see that the village
was still intact; by this time, the fire was mostly out. Elias’s people, with the help of the
villagers, followed his instructions to the letter; most of the village was saved, and so
was Saba.

Jonah couldn’t believe his eyes, overwhelmed with happiness. Shekinah ran up beside
her father, and together they welcomed Elias and Saba with joy and gratitude. Jonah
grabbed the princess’s hand and raised it into the air, calling out to everyone, “The
prince has kept his promise; he brought my daughter home!” The people cheered.

Shekinah approached Elias and said, “I can’t thank you enough. You are truly a hero.”
Feeling slightly shy, Elias replied, “Maybe I can come by the house every once in a while
to say hi—if Jonah approves.”

Shekinah smiled and gazed into Elias’s eyes. “I would look forward to that,” she said.

Elias, with a joyful smile, said, “What happens if my face gets dirty again? Who’s going
to be there to clean it?”

Shekinah put her hands on her hips with a playful grin, pulled a damp rag from her
pocket, snapped it in the air, and said, “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” as she
cleaned the mud from his cheeks.

Just then, a young boy ran up to Prince Elias and said, “Thank you for saving my village,
but we’ve lost our homes and have nowhere to live. What should we do now?” Elias
reached into his pocket, pulled out a golden coin, and placed it in the palm of the boy’s
hand. “Tell everyone who has lost their home that I will rebuild it for them.”

The boy smiled and ran off to tell his parents and show them the coin. However, when
he pulled it out, something else came with it: the crystal amulet. He said, “Where did
this come from?” And then he remembered something. “She put it around my neck.”
Before Elias could ponder further, the villagers surrounded him, lifting him in
celebration. Shekinah stepped back, clapping her hands as she joined the festivities.
Music began to play, and joyful drums filled the village.

All the people gathered around the young prince, including his entire staff, cheered his
name. He would always be remembered for his brave and swift actions when hope
seemed lost. This day would go down in history as the day the prince, who would be
king, saved the village and rescued one of their own.

Yet amidst the revelry, shadows lingered in Elias’s thoughts. As he looked at the crystal,
Raiten’s face surfaced in his mind…
He said to himself, “It was just a bad dream, or wasn’t it? He wished he could
remember.

Chapter: 63
The eyes of a child

Amidst the celebration, Saba wandered through the crowd, searching for Valdemar. She
had expected him to return by now, and her thoughts lingered with concern as she
recalled the Baron and the things he had said. Suddenly, she heard a small, familiar
chirping sound. Saba looked down to see Dagger, who had made her way back to Saba’s
village. Picking her up, Saba hugged her tightly, overwhelmed with joy at the reunion.
However, Dagger was not acting like her usual self; something seemed off.

With urgency in her voice,“What’s wrong, Dagger? What happened, did you get to see
Valdemar?” Dagger dropped her head, a bad sign that Saba recognized instantly.

Saba spotted an old man pulling a wagon with his oxen—a merchant. She asked
anxiously, “Excuse me sir, were you recently in Port town?” The merchant immediately
recognized Saba; The merchant said, “I know you, you’re one of the main buyers for the
Kingdom city commission directly from the King. How can I help you, my lady? Saba
repeated the question.

The merchant replied,“Yes ma’am, I just got back.” Saba glanced at Dagger, sensing she
already knew the answer.

“Were there any ships in the harbor?”

The merchant started to tie his mule off by pulling its rope over its head. “No ma’am,
they’ve all shipped out about two days ago. Don’t worry—by next week, the harbor will
be full again with all new cargo.”

As the merchant continued to talk, Saba began to zone him out. The world around her
started to spin, and her knees buckled as she fell to the ground. The merchant called out
to Jonah, who was celebrating with the rest of the villagers. When Jonah saw what had
happened he rushed over, lifting her carefully and carrying her into their home, placing
her on her bed.

Jonah immediately called for the village nurse and said “please help, something
happened to my daughter.”
As the village nurse tended to Saba
Jonah took the opportunity to speak with the merchant.

“What were you two discussing?” Jonah asked.

The merchant replied, “It was a simple conversation. She wanted to know if there were
any ships left in the harbor, and I told her no; they’ve all shipped out.”
Jonah understood what this meant: Valdemar was gone. Jonah gave the old merchant a
coin for his troubles. Then he quickly turned and headed back to his home.

The old merchant put the coin in his mouth and bit down on it to check its value. He
patted his mule on its back as a puff of smoke filled the air. The mule let out a breath of
air and winnie.
The merchant responded,“stop complaining I didn’t force you to come. I know you’re
hungry. We’ll be home soon and I’ll give you a bowl of milk.

The village nurse checked Saba’s pulse and said, “She seems stable for the moment.”
Jonah then asked if he could speak with her outside in the living room.

“She’s been under a lot of stress lately,” he explained. “After everything that’s happened,
she just needs some rest.”

The village nurse responded, “I can understand that, but she didn’t faint just because of
stress.”

“Then what is it?” Jonah asked, concern etched on his face.

Looking at Saba through the doorway, the village nurse said, “Your daughter is with
child, a couple of weeks along. You’re going to be a grandfather.”

Meanwhile, Saba lay still in bed with Dagger at her side. She tried to speak, as Jonah
entered the room, he sat next to her. With a tear-filled voice, he took her hand.

“What is it, my dear? What do you want?”

She spoke softly, barely above a whisper: “Valdemar.”

Chapter: 64
A mother’s truth

Two days had passed when King Jaheim finally received the much-anticipated news of
his son’s return. Overwhelmed with joy, he could hardly wait to see him. As Elias
entered the courtyard, he was surrounded by his staff, all proudly acknowledging his
great accomplishment. The king observed Elias’s arrival and called out, gesturing for
him to come to his chambers; he wanted to talk.

Elias made his way to his father’s chambers and knocked on the door. The king opened
it, greeted him with a broad smile, and enveloped him in a hug.

“My boy, you have done remarkably well! You have saved our people and proven
yourself a true hero,” the king exclaimed, a hint of awe in his voice. “I couldn’t be
prouder.”

Elias, ever humble, replied, “Thank you, Father. I’ve learned from the best.”

The king’s eyes shimmered with admiration. “Leadership comes naturally to you; it’s in
your blood. Now, sit, have some tea, and share every detail of your adventure. I want to
hear it all.”

Elias settled into his chair, the warmth of the teacup cradled in his hands as he began to
recount his tale.

“I set up a plan that I believed would prevent the fire from spreading. I couldn’t get the
fire to come to the water, so I brought the water to the fire. I created a series of canals
from the river to cut off the fire from entering any other sections of the village. With the
help of our staff and the villagers, we managed to contain it. After I felt we had the fire
under control, I decided to venture into the rainforest to search for Saba, who had
mysteriously gone missing.”

King Jaheim leaned forward, admiration evident in his expression. “Ingenious, my boy,
ingenious.”

“And then what happened next was bizarre, unbelievable, and unnatural.”

Elias continued with his story. “Incredible as it sounds, it happened, Father. I was there,
and I saw it with my own eyes.”

The king took a sip of his tea. “Who was this lady that sacrificed herself for you?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve seen her before.”

“Where?” the king asked.

Elias paused, his expression darkening. “In my dreams.”

“Recently, I’ve been plagued by vivid dreams—no, nightmares. This young woman
appears in them.” Elias looked off into the distance with a blank stare.

King Jaheim briefly recalled the little boy who had once been so vulnerable. This was a
turning point in his son’s life, marking his transition into manhood. He didn’t want Elias

to doubt himself. The king placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Drink, my son.
You’ve been through a traumatic experience. I promise that in time, everything will
become clear.”

Elias reached into his shirt and said, “And then there’s this. She put it around my neck
when I was in the lake. It saved our lives. Did I dream it into existence?” Elias held the
crystal amulet in his hand, watching it shimmer in the light as it caught his father’s eyes.

The king’s voice grew curious. “That is the pendant from your dreams?”

Elias responded softly, “Yes, Father.”

“Give it to me; there must be a rational explanation.”

Elias carefully unclasped the pendant from his neck and handed it to his father. King
Jaheim’s eyes widened as he stared at the crystal amulet, his hands trembling. He
sprang up, toppling the tea tray onto the floor.

“What is it, Father?” Elias asked, concerned.

Still bewildered, the king gazed at the pendant and then back at Elias, his voice barely
above a whisper. “She… gave you this?”

Elias nodded. “It saved Saba and me, just like I told you.”

A profound silence hung between them. As the king collected himself, his voice quaked
with emotion. “This pendant has been a cherished heirloom, passed down through
generations of our family. Your mother wore it the day she vanished, never taking it off.
I cannot begin to fathom how this is possible… but the woman in your dreams, the one
who sacrificed herself to save you… was your mother.”

Chapter: 65
A World turned upside down

Years passed, and Elias and Saba buried the memories of that fateful day deep in their
minds, choosing never to speak of it. Once a prince, Elias had now ascended to the
throne as king, proudly taking his father’s place. He and Shekinah had fallen in love, and
she accepted his hand in marriage, becoming his queen. Their union was celebrated with
a grand ceremony, and the future looked promising. King Jaheim eagerly anticipated
the joy of becoming a grandfather.

Meanwhile, Saba gave birth to twin boys who were healthy and strong. However, her
heart remained heavy with the memory of Valdemar. With the support of her family and
the king, she moved forward bravely, always holding on to the hope that one day he
would return.

King Elias continued to experience increasingly vivid and intense nightmares. The curse
that Raiten had placed upon him lingered in his dreams, yet Elias remained a
non-believer.

Gradually, small changes began to emerge. Flocks of sheep and other farm animals
started falling ill from unknown diseases. Milk cows virtually stopped producing, and
hens laid fewer eggs. Strange occurrences plagued the kingdom’s city: seasonal changes
became more erratic, lakes dried up faster than ever before, and the summer heat
intensified, causing the ground to crack open, creating impassable gaps and sand traps
along the roads that connected Kingdom City to the port town. This obstruction
hindered trade merchants from delivering their monthly supplies.

The dry season arrived earlier each year; droughts became more frequent and
prolonged, and rain grew scarce. Once-prosperous fields turned into wastelands, and

the few crops that survived were overwhelmed by pests and diseases. It was a drought of
unprecedented severity, and hard times descended upon Kingdom City.

The shipping lanes to Port Town were redirected, leaving the harbor empty. With no
crops, there would be no grain or seeds to trade. Port Town began to resemble a ghost
town as merchants moved west in search of more prosperous lands. Worst of all, King
Elias had yet to secure an heir to his throne, which was regarded as a bad omen.

Queen Shekinah felt deep melancholy over their circumstances, while Elias sat alone on
his throne, pondering what to do.

He remembered what he had tried so hard to forget. This was his reality, and he had to
face it. Suddenly, an idea struck him: “Sherman.”

“Didn’t Raiten say that Sherman was her enemy? If that is true, then the enemy of
Raiten could be my ally. Was it not Sherman who gave me the enchanted Kimmo
fighting stick, which protected me from Raiten’s sorcery? Raiten claimed the stick was
hers. If that is true, how did Sherman obtain it? What spiritual power did he use? And
what about the crystal amulet? What does it all mean? Somehow, I must break this
deadly curse. I believe that Sherman holds the answers.”

Realizing he needed to find Sherman, Elias wondered, “Where do I start?”

Chapter: 66
The coin
Elias knew he had to retrace his steps back to Jacob’s woodshop. That was the only clue
he could follow if he hoped to find Sherman again. Jacob had long since moved,
relocating closer to the palace, leaving his former location on the outskirts of town
behind. It was a long journey through the city’s streets, but Elias remembered the
shortcut that had once led him to Sherman.

He wore a cloaked hoodie to cover his face and avoid being recognized, but soon
realized it made little difference; people were too preoccupied with their own troubles.

This was not the usual hustle and bustle he was accustomed to. Instead of shopping and
commerce, shop owners were hurriedly closing their doors, and townsfolk packed their
belongings, preparing to leave the kingdom. The scene was far different from what he
had hoped to find.

Elias traveled for hours under the hot sun, noticing that everywhere he went, people
were leaving. When he finally arrived at the shortcut to Jacob’s woodshop, relief washed
over him. However, this time the outcome was different. No matter how many times he
tried, he kept finding himself back at Jacob’s old location.

Elias searched every corner of every block that seemed familiar, but the heat of the sun
was draining. As daylight faded into dusk and shadows filled the streets, frustration and
exhaustion crept in. Ready to give up, he flopped down on a bench next to a hooded, old
blind man who was begging for coins. The blind man stared down at the ground, holding
a flat plate in his lap, his long gray beard almost touching it. He chanted, “Pity for a
blind man, some pity for a blind man,” hoping for kindness from passing strangers to
pay for his next meal.

Sensing Elias’s presence, the blind man turned his dish toward him and repeated his
chant. Elias spoke loudly, “Excuse me, sir, is it alright if I sit on this bench with you?”

The old man replied, “You don’t have to yell; I’m blind, not deaf.” Feeling foolish, Elias
quickly apologized. He reached into his pouch, pulled out a gold coin, and placed it on
the plate—valuable enough to feed the old man for a couple of weeks, if not a month.

The blind man felt around the plate until he found the coin. Immediately, he put it into
his mouth and bit down on it to check its value. “Thank you, young master. That’s very
generous of you,” he said, tucking the coin into his pocket.

Elias responded, “How did you know I was a young master if you can’t see?”

The old blind man explained, “When you sat down, you weren’t heavy. Also, I heard
your fighting stick as you moved it off your back onto your lap. Only a young master
would carry such a stick.”

Elias replied, “Very observant.”

Just then, a passerby dropped another coin onto the blind man’s plate. With swift
precision, the old man snatched it up and, without hesitation, bit down on it too. His
face contorted in disgust as he dropped it back onto the plate, noticeably bent.

“What worries you, young master?” the blind man inquired.

Elias shifted in his seat. “What makes you think I’m worried?”

“The way you fell onto the bench. It wasn’t just because you were tired; it was out of
frustration.”

Impressed, Elias admitted, “You are certainly a man of wisdom. You’re right. I’ve been
searching all day for an old bookshop, but I haven’t had any luck. It’s very important
that I find it.”

The old blind man reached for his walking cane exposing his wrist with a golden charm.
Elias fought to himself that’s odd a man that begs for money, but wears a golden charm
around his wrist.

The blind man leaned on his cane,and stood up. “Don’t give up so easily, young master.
You may find that you are closer than you think.”

With that, the blind man lowered the plate as the bent coin fell to the ground.
He tapped his cane against the stone street.

Elias noticed that the coin hit the edge of a cobblestone and bounced sideways into an
alley. Quickly, he jumped off the bench and dashed after it, hoping to return it. But by
the time he reached the front of the alley, the old blind man had vanished into the
crowd. Disappointed, Elias flipped the coin in the air and caught it in his hand. As he
turned to leave the alley he heard the soft meow of a cat.

Chapter: 67
Demand answers

Elias crouched down, enchanted by the soft purring that brushed against his legs. There
she was—Centra, the charming gray cat he had first met in Sherman’s bookstore, her
little bow still adorning her neck. “Centra! What a delightful surprise!” he exclaimed, his
heart warming at the sight of her. She looked up at him with bright, curious eyes and
nuzzled her head against his hand, her purring vibrating with a sense of familiarity.

“Ah, you’re just as beautiful as ever! It’s as if time has forgotten you,” he said, stroking
her gray fur. Centra blinked slowly, her emerald eyes radiating affection as she issued a
gentle meow, as if acknowledging their deep bond.

In a moment of silent understanding, Elias whispered back, “I’ve missed you too.”

With a flick of her tail, Centra spun around and darted down the narrow alley, pausing
for just a heartbeat to glance back at him with an inquisitive tilt of her head before
vanishing around a corner. Elias pushed himself to his feet and followed her, leaving
behind the bustling crowds of the marketplace.

The alley led him to a deserted street, shadows stretching out like fingers across the
cobblestones. He turned back for a moment, the contrast of empty stillness against the
earlier chaos pressing on his mind.

Centra’s soft meow echoed again, urging him onward. She sprinted toward an open
door, a sign above reading “Fortune Teller and Reader of Dreams.” Elias raised an
eyebrow, skepticism mingling with curiosity as he crossed the threshold behind her.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of incense and the allure of mysticism, an eclectic
shop bursting with curiosities. Centra settled gracefully on an ornate rug.

“I recognize this place. I see you’ve made a few upgrades. Where’s Sherman?”

Just then, a clattering noise erupted from the back, reminiscent of marbles tumbling in
a bag. Elias’s eyes widened as beads parted to reveal Sherman emerging from the
shadows, a book cradled under his arm, his colorful attire glinting with an array of
jewels.

“Ah, my young prince—I mean, king! I’ve been expecting you,” Sherman said, his
vibrant smile lighting up his face, a spark still alive in his eyes despite the years.

Elias, pushing back his hood.“You’re a difficult man to locate, but it’s nice to see you
again.”

Do tell me—what do you think of the new ambiance?” Sherman replied, gesturing
grandly around the shop like a host unveiling a masterpiece.

Elias, fixed in his resolve, replied, “I didn’t come here to check out your decorations, or
get a new fighting stick.

He inhaled deeply, letting the familiar scent of Zendara fill his nostrils. “Last time I
caught a whiff of that fragrance, I took a long nap, but not this time. None of your
tricks…Sherma.”

“Ah, my apologies young King. To capture the attention of a hungry lion, you must have
something he desires,” Sherman said with a knowing smile.

“And what does this lion want?” Elias challenged, his tone firm.

Sherman paused, a thoughtful glint in his eye before he said, “He’s hungry for answers.”

Elias with resolve in his voice said, “My kingdom has been plagued. My throne is being
threatened, and my queen is heartbroken. I’m not asking for answers.” He slammed his
fist onto the table, the sound echoing through the quiet room. “I demand them!!!”

With a nod of understanding, Sherman opened the book he was carrying. It was titled
“Book of Spells.” “I’ve been reviewing your curse,” he said. “It’s right here. On page 32,
paragraph six.”

“Unfortunately, the curse of Raiten cannot be broken, but I think I’ve found a loophole.
If we work together, maybe—just maybe—we can bend it. But we won’t succeed alone;
we’ll need help.”

Elias’s brow furrowed. “Wait a minute, so you’re telling me what happened was real, and
it wasn’t just a nightmare?”

Sherman nodded. “There’s not much difference between dreams and the reality of the
spirit world. It’s an invisible realm, nestled deep within our subconscious. You’ve been
chosen for a great task…”

Elias took a deep breath, weight settling heavily in his chest. “My father told me, but I
just couldn’t bring myself to believe it.”

“Do you carry the crystal amulet with you?” Sherman asked gently.

“Yes, I have it here.” Elias pulled out the amulet from beneath his shirt.

Its magnificence sparkled,casting brilliant reflections throughout the entire store,
igniting every other crystal into a shimmering glow—it was like a rainbow spilling across
a spring sky.

“Thanks to her,” Sherman said, his voice carrying the honor of respect, “we have
regained the Auralite Crystal and all its powers. If it had fallen into Raiten’s hands who
would be compelled to pass it on to those two evil sisters, we would all be doomed.”

“The amulet contains the quantum stone, a portal through time and space. Touch the
stone, Elias, and prepare yourself. We’re about to embark on a journey to the land of
spirits.”

Chapter: 68
Verdict of the gods
A surge of energy pulsed through the air as Centra leaped into Elias’s arms. Suddenly,
the room began to transform. He saw Sherman reading from his book of spells, his
hands raised over his head as he chanted incantations.

A flash of color erupted around them, transforming the familiar bookstore into a
gigantic egg, with Elias and Centra at its center. Fascination mingled with worry as Elias
glanced down at Centra.
To his surprise, she seemed completely unfazed, nonchalantly licking her paw as if this
surreal spectacle were just another ordinary day. The shell of the egg began to splinter,
and Elias watched in wide-eyed wonder as bookshelves, counters, and ceiling peeled
away from its surface, drifting off into the swirling cosmic chaos.

Elias and Centra found themselves enveloped in a transparent protective bubble,
ascending into the sky at cosmic speeds. Below them lay the Earth, appearing distant
and small, while above, wispy white clouds rushed past them as they soared through the
atmosphere like an arrow shot into the sky. They were being magically transported to a
realm beyond sight, time, and imagination.

Abruptly, they came to a stop inside a magnificent dome-like temple where the air
hummed with ancient energy. Golden masks and artifacts adorned the walls, gleaming
like stars against the backdrop of eternity. Elias remained encased in his protective
bubble, staring in fascination as he gently placed Centra on the ground.

She fluttered through the transparent barrier with ease and approached one of the
golden masks bearing her name etched beneath it. Rising on her hind legs, she placed
her front paws on the mask. Miraculously, she began to transform into her true self,
growing beyond the typical human size. She became spiritually transparent and radiated
a beauty that surpassed ordinary mortal standards.

Standing before a mask that mirrored her essence, she smiled at Elias, who could
scarcely contain his disbelief. There she was—vibrant, real, and magnificent.

As if orchestrated by some unseen force, ghostly figures began to materialize beneath
each golden mask. Sherman appeared among them, rejuvenated and youthful, his gray
hair vanished. He rested his hands on the limestone rail, poised with determination.
Elias felt a rush of humility wash over him as he stood at the temple’s center, the amulet
hanging around his neck glowing with an otherworldly light.

He was encircled by these spiritual giants, seated like a celestial jury. This was a court of
law, and Sherman was the defense attorney, pleading the case for the plaintiff while
Elias stood on trial for his life and the future of his people.

“Great Spirit King Jordan, Goddess Irimith, and esteemed prophets,” Sherman began,
his voice rising in fervor. “We come before you in desperate need of your wisdom. I

stand here with King Elias, a direct descendant of Queen Kendra and her spiritually
bound twin sister Raiten. Our people suffer not through their own choices but from a
curse that threatens to erase our bloodline. Our right to choose, the essence of our
humanity, is under attack by forces we cannot fight alone. The foundations of our beliefs
are crumbling, and our future has been reshaped by malicious hands driven by the
pursuit of power.

I implore you to unite and confront this darkness that has befallen us. An equal force
must counteract the sorcerer’s wickedness—this singular act could shift the tide of fate
itself.” Sherman made a fist in defiance. “We hold firm to the belief that no entity has
the power to dictate our destinies. Help us break this curse and restore balance to our
world!!!…” Sherman struck the rail with his fist emphatically, sending echoes through
the temple….. “The battle may have been lost, but the war has only just begun!!!!”

A wave of applause erupted from the prophets, a surge of approval that made the amulet
around Elias’s neck shine even brighter.

As whispers floated among the ancient ones, Asha, a beloved prophet, stepped forward
with her gallant falcon perched on her arm, her gaze steady and resolute. “We are
willing to offer our gifts, aware of the risks, to aid you in defeating this formidable foe.”

Elias, feeling the heat from the Crystal becoming unbearable. Removed it from around
his neck, placing it gently on the floor in front of him. In an instant, it blazed with a
brilliant light that shot upwards, piercing through the dome and into the heavens.

A powerful voice resonated through the chamber as Elias shielded his eyes, grappling
with the sheer intensity of the illumination. The celestial voice gradually grew louder,
surging with energy as it echoed through the chamber.

“Elias… Elias, I have heard your people’s cries.” It was the voice of the goddess Irimith.
The prophets respectfully bowed their heads and knelt on one knee.

Irimith’s words flowed like a gentle breeze, yet they carried a weight that shook the very
foundations of their destiny. “The curse placed upon you was intended for a king’s
throne. By my decree, a royal child shall be born, but it will not be a king; instead, it will
take the throne as a Queen. She will be half human and half spirit, possessing the
powers of the prophets. Throughout her adolescence, she will come to understand them
and with the amulet to protect her and Raiten’s enchanted staff to prepare her, she is
our last hope. Guide her well, Elias.”

“For while her birth may be foretold, her path remains unwritten.
Hear my words: Raiten cannot be destroyed; she is compelled by a greater evil. The
sisters hold her anguished soul prisoner. To release Raiten’s soul is to break the curse.
This temporary spell we provide today has a limited duration for the unborn child.

Raiten’s soul must be reunited with her essence by the dawn of the young queen’s 18th
birthday—neither a second more nor a second less. If she fails, she will be condemned to
wander the realm as a spirit, her powers lost and absorbed back into the Crystal. The
prophets will be forever caught in twilight, powerless between the worlds of light and
shadow, trapped in a haunting limbo for all eternity.

“King Elias, by the power of this decree, the spell that has shrouded you will be lifted, if
only for a time. Rejoice, for your kingdom shall flourish once more, bursting with
abundance and prosperity!”

Her voice began to fade, mirroring the diminishing light of the crystal. “Remember,
neither a second more, nor a second less, or the world as we know it will plunge into
darkness….” As she receded back into the realm of spirits, Irimith’s voice echoed like a
ghostly whisper, “And her name will be. Her words are too faint to hear.

The transparent capsule that Elias was in began to rotate slowly.

Sherman and the other prophets started to fade from his sight. Elias felt himself lifting
again, and everything suddenly became a blur. He closed his eyes, and when he opened
them, he found himself back on the bench where he had met the blind man.

Elias questioned once again whether it was all just a dream, wondering if he had fallen
asleep right in that spot. The street bustled with activity as people continued to leave the
city. With a disappointed expression, he muttered to himself, “Nothing has changed.”
He felt around his neck for the amulet but realized it wasn’t there. Slightly panicked, he
looked around until he finally glanced down and sighed with relief when he discovered
the amulet resting on his lap.

He also noticed the blind man’s cane leaning against the side of the bench. He distinctly
remembered that when the blind man left, he had taken his cane with him. Suddenly, he
could see in his mind’s eye the blind man reaching for the cane and realized that the
golden charms around his wrist matched those of Sherman. This triggered his memory
of the worker who had saved him from the falling log, who also wore colorful beads
around his neck. Sherman had been wearing something similar when they first met.

He could finally connect these two facts: it had been Sherman all along, protecting and
guiding him. Elias felt grateful, and he now knew that everything he had experienced
had to be true. His future was before him, but most importantly, he was concerned
about the future of his unborn child, and his people.

Just then, a man came dartering through the crowd, yelling, “It’s coming! It’s coming!”
He caught everyone’s attention, starting a commotion as he pointed at the sky. Elias
stepped into the street and grabbed the frantic man. “What is it? What’s coming?”

The man pointed up to the sky again. Elias turned his gaze skyward, The busy street
came to a complete halt, as dark clouds rolled in, casting shadows that enveloped the
crowd.
Suddenly, a drop landed on Elias’s face, rolling slowly down his cheek , soon joined by
another, and then another.

With jubilation in his voice he said.
“It’s Rain,It’s Rainnn!!” Within moments the sky opened up in a torrential downpour.
The crowd erupted into cheers, their spirits lifting with each cascading drop.

Elias closed his eyes, tilting his head skyward as the rain enveloped him with its cool
embrace. In that moment of redemption, he whispered, “Thank you, Irimith. Thank
you.”

Chapter: 69
The birth of Zendara

Kingdom City, along with the surrounding provinces, had begun to prosper again, just
as Irimith had predicted. The Queen, being with child, had brought renewed hope to the
people. The day of the royal birth had finally arrived, and the kingdom awaited this
joyous moment with excitement.

Elias paced nervously back and forth, waiting for hours until the door to their chambers
finally opened. The palace nurse beckoned Elias to come into the room to see his child
for the first time. As he stepped inside, the nurse whispered to him, “All is well.”

There was Shekinah, sitting up in bed, holding their newborn child in her arms. The
doctor and two nurses looked pleased as they prepared to leave. Elias gently sat down
next to Shekinah and asked, “Are you alright?” Shekinah nodded, smiling uncontrollably
as she gazed into the baby’s eyes. In her weakened state, she held out the newborn child,
gesturing for Elias to hold her.

“Here is your green-eyed princess, my King, your next heir,” she said. Elias took his
child in his arms for the first time, gazing at her face. He stumbled through his words,
“She may have my green eyes, but she certainly has your beauty.”
Just then a magical moment was about to take place. A cool breeze swept into their
chambers rustling the curtains. Suddenly above their bed, a silhouette of a pair of hands
materialized in the dim light, ethereal and glimmering with an otherworldly aura. The
fingers unfurled gracefully, and with a soft whoosh, a puff of smoke filled incense
billowed forth, swirling delicately in the still air.
The aroma twisted and turned, its form alive with mystery as it spiraled downward,
weaving through the room. It finally settled gently before Elias and Shekinah, curling
around them in a comforting embrace.
Elias sat on the bed next to Shekinah as they marveled at their newborn queen.

“What is that smell, Elias? It’s lovely,” Shekinah asked, sensing the fragrant scent
enveloping her. Elias lifted his head, finally recognizing the aroma. “This scent is
familiar to me; I’ve smelled it before. I remember its name: the essence of Zendara.” He
muttered to himself, “Sherman, you trickster. I guess you did make that delivery after
all.”

As the scent lingered, it seemed to uplift Shekinah’s spirits. “Zendara, what a lovely
name. Elias, let’s call her that.”

Elias replied, “But she must have a first name, my Queen.”

Shekinah looked into the baby’s face and gently stroked her hair. Noticing a small strand
of white, she said, “I know, Elias. We will name her after your mother. Let’s call her
Amara Zendara.”

Elias walked out onto the balcony, cradling baby Amara in his arms. The crowd below
roared with excitement, having eagerly awaited this moment. Someone from the crowd
shouted, “What is her name?”

A vibrant, rhythmic beat began to pulse in the background, filling the air with an
infectious energy that seemed to resonate with every heartbeat..
Elias declared, “From this day forth, your name will be inscribed on every tablet and
manuscript, recorded in the Book of Kings. You will be remembered throughout the
kingdom for generations to come ,Even the gods will hear your name reverberate
through the spirit world, for you shall henceforth be known as, …Princess Amara
Zendara.”
The crowd erupted into cheers, the sound blending with the beat, marking the dawn of a
new era.

The celebratory song, “Come on Amara,” began to play, and the festivities commenced.

Irimith’s words had proven true: a princess would be born who would eventually
become queen. Yet, lingering in the back of Elias’s mind was a sense of apprehension.
Was she truly the prophecy that had been foretold? Could he possibly lose Amara, just
as he had lost his mother? The mysterious adventures that awaited Amara Zendara were
not yet written, but her journey was only just beginning.

————————————————————-

End of book two

Beginning of book three, The mystery, adventures of
Amara Zendara