Narrator: Half an hour had passed since Katara and Miana defeated the spider monster Uttu, and they were now almost at the entrance of the village. After the chain of intense events, only one final obstacle remained before they could reach home—a steep hill covered in trees and thick shrubs.
Narrator: Miana, with a tired expression on her face, took deep breaths to steady herself. Narrowing her eyes, she gazed absently toward the sky and spoke softly:
MIANA: "We're almost there. Once we get over this hill, we'll be able to see the village. But… I don't know how to explain it, I've passed this path nearly every day, and yet I've never felt this uneasy. Strange, isn't it? This silence… it feels less like peace and more like the calm before a storm."
KATARA: …
Narrator: Miana glanced at Katara from the corner of her eye, but Katara's attention was focused entirely on the human infant in her arms. Her expression was tense, her thoughts swirling like waves in her mind. They weren't the thoughts of a warrior—but of a new mother: anxious, protective, and fragile.
KATARA (thinking): (Is he cold? Maybe he's sick. Or… maybe he's just hungry. What should I even feed him?)
Narrator: Miana noticed the silence and the concern written all over Katara's face. She assumed it was because of Katara's anxiety about the punishment she might receive for bringing a human child into the village.
MIANA (thinking): (I mean… I can't really blame her. She used to be a mother. Maybe she's feeling all those emotions again. But this is beyond her control. Still, I should try to encourage her before she has to face the chief.)
Narrator: Miana turned to Katara with a cheerful voice:
MIANA: "Hey, Katara, once we get to the village, what do you want to do first? You could come over to my place if you want! We can rest a bit before seeing the chief. I've been trying out some new recipes. You could be my first taste-tester!"
Narrator: Katara turned toward her with an indifferent expression. Her eyes emotionless, her tone short and firm:
KATARA: "No, thank you. I need to see the village chief immediately."
MIANA (insisting): "What?! But I worked so hard on them! I'm really confident! If you don't come, you'll totally be missing out!"
KATARA: …
Narrator: Katara gave no reply. Her expression remained completely unchanged. Miana, receiving silence for the second time, let out a deep sigh—this time not from disappointment, but from stubbornness. She stared at Katara with fiery determination:
MIANA (thinking): (You're seriously a tough opponent, Katara… but I haven't given up yet.)
Narrator: But before Miana could make another move, Katara suddenly accelerated, putting seven or eight meters between them. Left behind, Miana had to speed up significantly to keep up. Finally, when they reached the top of the hill, the view before them was breathtaking.
Nestled in a giant hollow, a massive turtle—almost five hundred meters in size—lay resting. On its back, lush blue trees and small hills were spread like nature's crown. Its sheer size nearly filled the entire hollow.
The turtle, seemingly indifferent to everything around it, gazed calmly at the sky. In its eyes shimmered ancient wisdom, while its shell bore a miniature reflection of the forest. Katara gazed at the massive turtle with narrowed eyes and a sorrowful expression. Memories from her past flickered in her mind—memories filled with pain and loss. The blue trees on the turtle's back stirred images from long ago.
She took a deep breath in silence, then slowly descended the hill. Only the sound of her footsteps broke the stillness. Katara and Miana made their way toward a long, dark green bridge that spanned across the turtle's back. It connected two cliffs like a giant vine, enduring the wear of time.
Just then, Miana suddenly stopped in her tracks. It was as if something important had just struck her. Her eyes widened, and her breath caught for a second.
MIANA (thinking): (The guards… Of course! I completely forgot! If the guards see Katara holding a human child, they'll definitely try to stop her. Or worse—they might try to take the child away. And knowing Katara, there's no way she'd let anyone touch him without a fight. No, actually—not a fight. It'd be a massacre. I have to warn them before it's too late!)
Narrator: With that thought, Miana turned to Katara and spoke in a hurried and anxious tone:
MIANA: "Hey Katara! I think I should go ahead and tell them to open the gate early. You know, kids can get sick really fast… and we wouldn't want that, right?"
Narrator: Without waiting for a response, Miana dashed toward the other side of the bridge. At the end of it stood a massive green gate guarded by two large warriors. They looked so similar, it was as if they were reflections of each other—short black hair, chiseled features, and the same firm posture.
Knowing Katara was close behind, Miana didn't speak. Instead, she tried to signal with wild hand gestures: waving, widening her eyes, drawing strange shapes with her fingers, even hopping slightly to get their attention. But the two guards only returned her frantic movements with blank, confused stares. One of them raised an eyebrow, then turned to the other and shrugged.
GUARD: "Is this... some kind of battle dance?"
MIANA (thinking): (No, it's not a battle dance, it's a 'save yourselves from the incoming destruction' signal, you fools!)
Narrator: Realizing her message wasn't getting through, Miana furrowed her brows in frustration. She was about to approach and whisper in their ears when—Katara had already caught up. Miana froze in place. Forcing a nervous smile, she turned to greet her.
MIANA: "Ah, Katara, you're here already! That was... fast. Why did you suddenly speed up?"
KATARA: "I didn't want the child to get cold."(Note: As she says this, a small, gentle smile appears on her face.)
MIANA (thinking): (Seriously? Why do you have to be this softhearted now…)
Narrator: At that very moment, the guards noticed the human child in Katara's arms. Their eyes narrowed, and their hands reflexively reached for their weapons. With cold, stern expressions, they drew their swords to block her path. But Katara's gentle smile vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, deadly glare. Her eyes alone seemed to pierce their very souls.
KATARA: "MOVE."
Narrator: That single word wasn't just a command—it echoed like an absolute law of nature. Her voice, sharp and heavy as steel, left no room for resistance. The guards instinctively stepped back, as if their bodies no longer obeyed them. Katara held the child close with her right arm like the most precious treasure in the world. With her left, she stepped up to the giant green gate—and struck it with a single fist.
The doors groaned and swung open with a powerful rumble. Even the hinges seemed to wail under the force of her fury. Miana, wide-eyed at the sight, whispered:
MIANA (thinking): (Did I… underestimate Katara just a little?)
Narrator: Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she glanced at the petrified guards with a hint of pity. She had felt the same fear not long ago.
MIANA (thinking): (Don't worry… it's terrifying at first, but you'll get used to it. Just... do your best.)
Narrator: Offering them a thumbs-up and a wink as if to cheer them on, she quickly followed after Katara. Behind her, the two guards remained frozen in place, exchanging stunned looks.
_______________________
Narrator: Half an hour had passed since Katara and Miana defeated the spider monster Uttu, and they had nearly reached the entrance of the village. After everything that had happened one after another, only one last obstacle remained before they could arrive: the large hill ahead of them, filled with trees and thickets.
Narrator: Miana, with a tired expression on her face, took deep breaths to steady herself. Squinting slightly, she looked up at the sky and spoke absentmindedly:
MIANA: We're almost there. Once we get over that hill, the village will be in sight. But… I don't know how to explain it—I've walked this path nearly every day, and yet today it feels so different. This silence… it doesn't feel peaceful. It feels more like the calm before a storm.
KATARA: …
Narrator: Miana glanced at Katara from the corner of her eye. But Katara's face was filled with concern, her gaze fixed on the human child she held in her arms. Her mind was flooded with thoughts—thoughts of a newly made mother: innocent, fragile, protective.
KATARA (thinking): (Is he cold? Maybe he's sick… or hungry? What should I even feed him?)
Narrator: Miana noticed Katara's silence and the deep worry on her face. She assumed Katara's distracted state was from the fear of what kind of punishment she might face for bringing a human child into the village.
MIANA (thinking): (Well... I can't really blame her. She was once a mother. Maybe she's just feeling those emotions again. But this situation… it's out of her control. I should at least give her some encouragement before we see the chief.)
Narrator: With that thought, Miana turned to Katara and spoke in a cheerful voice.
MIANA: Hey Katara, what's the first thing you're going to do when we get to the village? If you want, you can come over to my place. We can rest a little before going to the chief. I've been working on some new recipes too—maybe you'd like to try them?
Narrator: Katara turned to her with a cold expression. Her eyes were blank, and her voice was short and flat:
KATARA: No, thank you. I need to see the chief right away.
MIANA (insistently): What?! But I worked so hard! I'm super confident this time! If you don't come, you'll be missing out on soooo much!
KATARA: …
Narrator: Katara gave no response. Her face remained unchanged. Miana sighed—not from disappointment, but from a rising determination. She stared at Katara with a spark of resolve in her eyes.
MIANA (thinking, with determination): (You're a tough one, Katara… but I'm not giving up yet.)
Narrator: But before Miana could try anything else, Katara had already surged forward, leaving her about seven or eight meters behind. Miana had no choice but to rush after her with hurried steps. When they finally reached the top of the hill, a breathtaking sight opened up before them.
In the center of a massive crater lay an ancient turtle, nearly five hundred meters in size. On its shell, it carried deep blue trees and small hills. It was so immense that it nearly filled the entire basin.
The turtle, with a serene expression, looked up at the sky as if nothing else in the world concerned it. There was deep wisdom in its eyes, and its shell held a miniature version of the forest. Katara stood silently for a few minutes, eyes narrowed, her expression heavy with sorrow as she stared at the turtle. Her gaze carried the shadow of old memories and the ache of something lost.
The deep blue trees on the turtle's back awakened scenes of the past in her mind.
She drew a deep breath and slowly stepped down the slope. Only the sound of her footsteps broke the silence. Katara and Miana walked toward a long, dark green bridge that stretched across the turtle's shell like a massive vine, connecting two cliffs and defying the wear of time.
Just then, Miana suddenly stopped. As if she had remembered something, her body jolted and her eyes widened.
MIANA (thinking): (Oh no, the guards… I completely forgot! The moment they see that Katara's holding a human child, they'll try to stop her. Or worse, they might try to take the child away. And knowing Katara, there's no way she'll let anyone touch him without a fight… No, not a fight—she'll start a massacre. I need to warn them before that happens!)
Narrator: Filled with urgency and anxiety, Miana turned to Katara and spoke quickly:
MIANA: Hey Katara! I think I should go ahead and tell them to open the gate early. You know how kids get sick easily... I mean, we don't want him catching a cold!
Narrator: Miana forced a smile as she spoke and, without waiting for a response, ran ahead toward the other side of the bridge. At the end of the bridge, two towering guards stood before a massive green gate. They looked almost identical—short black hair, sharp facial features, and identical stances as if they were reflections of one another.
Knowing Katara wasn't far behind, Miana chose not to speak. Instead, she began making strange hand gestures to try to explain the situation—waving, widening her eyes, drawing weird shapes with her fingers, and even jumping around a little to get their attention. But the guards only gave her blank, confused stares. One of them raised an eyebrow, then turned to the other and shrugged.
GUARD: Is this… some kind of battle dance?
MIANA (thinking): (No! This isn't a battle dance—it's a "save yourselves from the incoming disaster" signal! You idiots!)
Narrator: Realizing her gestures were misunderstood, Miana frowned and sighed. She decided to get closer and whisper the situation to them. But before she could take a single step forward—
Katara had already caught up.
Miana froze.
Then, forcing a cheerful tone, she turned to Katara:
MIANA: Ahhh, Katara! You're already here. That was… quick. Why the sudden rush?
KATARA: I didn't want the child to catch a cold. (Note: As she says this, a faint warm smile appears on her face.)
MIANA (thinking): (Seriously? Why do you have to be so… innocent?)
Narrator: Just then, the guards noticed the human child in Katara's arms. Their eyes narrowed, and their hands instinctively went to their weapons. With a cold, firm expression, they drew their swords to block Katara's path. But the moment they moved, Katara's gentle smile vanished. Her face turned cold and deadly.
The darkness in her eyes pierced their very souls. The guards froze as if time itself had stopped. Even breathing took courage.
KATARA: MOVE.
Narrator: That single word didn't sound like a command—it was more like an unchangeable law of the universe. Her voice was as sharp and heavy as forged steel. The guards stepped back without even realizing it, their bodies no longer their own.
Katara held the child close, as if protecting the most precious treasure in the world. With her free hand, she reached for the massive green gate and struck it with a single punch. The doors swung open with a loud groan, their hinges creaking under the weight of Katara's wrath.
Miana watched in stunned silence, eyes wide.
MIANA (thinking): (Did I… maybe underestimate Katara a little?)
Narrator: Shaking her head, she glanced back at the frozen guards and gave them a look of sympathy. After all, she too had once stood where they now stood.
MIANA (thinking): (Don't worry… it's terrifying at first, but it gets better with time. Do your best.)
Narrator: With a reassuring thumbs-up and a wink, she hurried after Katara, leaving the stunned guards to exchange bewildered looks.
Narrator: Katara and Miana finally succeeded in entering the village. Apart from the large green gate guarded by the sentries, there were no walls or barriers around the village. It seemed completely open, intertwined with nature, yet it held its own hidden order.
Next to the gate stood a watchtower built from blue-colored wood. It swayed gently in the breeze, casting the shadow of a Void guard standing watch above.
A little further ahead, in a clearing filled with towering trees, elegant houses in shades of blue and green could be seen. High in the treetops, these treehouses were connected by rope bridges, adorning the forest like ornaments delicately placed by nature itself. They swayed gently in the wind, like a painting come to life.
There were also houses on the ground, but compared to the graceful structures in the trees, they looked larger and more clunky. At the very center of the village stood a fifteen-meter-high totem made of wood. Each level of the totem was carved with the face of a Void, representing their culture, history, and guardianship of tradition. It stood like the heart of the village.
Just a few minutes after entering, Katara came to a sudden stop. She squared her shoulders and turned to Miana, speaking in a calm and firm tone:
KATARA: I'm going to see the chief. You can do as you like.
MIANA: I'm coming with you. I also need to talk to the chief about something.
Narrator: With a faint smile and a determined tone, Miana followed alongside Katara. As they walked deeper into the village, Katara wore her usual indifferent expression, while Miana moved with a more cautious, uneasy gait. Still, neither of them realized they were drawing attention. The villagers' eyes were fixed on them—and more specifically, on the human child in Katara's arms.
Some looked on with fear and concern; others with curiosity and intrigue. Then came the whispers:
"Is that a human child?""Why is Katara carrying it?""Does the chief know about this?"
Narrator: The murmurs, the glances, the stares—none of it stopped their march. It was as if every step they took echoed louder, and every gaze placed a new weight on their shoulders. The villagers' curiosity followed them all the way to the chief's house.
But when they arrived, the area in front of the chief's house wasn't quiet as expected. A large crowd of Voids had already gathered.
Almost the entire village had assembled, drawn by the rumors of the human child Katara carried.
Narrator: Amid the growing murmurs, Miana looked around in surprise. As she scanned the faces of the villagers, a flurry of thoughts raced through her mind.
MIANA (thinking): (This is... turning into something bigger than I expected.)
Narrator: Just then, a tall, imposing Void stepped forward from among the crowd and blocked Katara's path. His expression was stern, his eyes burning with a mixture of anger and disbelief. His gaze cut into Katara like a blade.
The air grew silent. The villagers held their breath, watching this tense moment unfold like a scene from legend.
Miana stared at the approaching figure, her eyes narrowing with uncertainty.
MIANA (thinking): (Master Nakon? But why now? I thought he was on a mission far from here... Did he finish early? Why now of all times?)
Narrator: The Void who now stood before Katara was none other than Nakon, one of the village's legendary warriors. Like Katara, he was known as one of the strongest fighters in the tribe. It was said that he was the most powerful male warrior born in the last two millennia.
Estimated to be between 190 and 200 years old, his short black hair was tied back tightly. His piercing silver eyes, sharp features, and solid build gave him the appearance of a stone statue.
His body bore black ceremonial tattoos bestowed by the chief to seasoned warriors. Resting on his shoulder was a massive white axe adorned with the symbol of a violet dragon. In that moment, Nakon stood like a god of war.
A heavy silence stretched between him and Katara. Their eye contact was charged, like an invisible sword fight of wills. Then, with a deep, commanding voice, Nakon finally spoke:
NAKON: "Do you even understand what you've done?"
Narrator: Katara turned to him with a cold expression and replied in a disinterested voice:
KATARA: "This doesn't concern you."
Narrator: Nakon clenched his fists in anger, glaring at Katara with intensity.
NAKON: "Why did you bring a human child into the village?"
Narrator: Katara remained silent, her cold gaze locked on Nakon. Her refusal to answer only fueled his fury.
NAKON: "It's my duty to protect this village, Katara. You know that better than anyone. Explain yourself—before I make you."
Narrator: At those words, Katara drew in a deep breath. She turned to Miana and gently handed her the child. For a fleeting moment, her face softened. It was as if the mere presence of this small life calmed her rage. But as soon as she turned back to Nakon, her cold focus returned.
With one fluid motion, she drew her twin swords from her back. The metallic gleam of the blades shimmered in the daylight, perfectly matching the calculated intensity in her eyes.
KATARA: "Try me."
NAKON: "So be it. You leave me no choice."
Narrator: Nakon narrowed his eyes and pulled his massive axe from his back. The tension between the two warriors was so thick it nearly choked the air. The aura of power they gave off was crushing—so much so that no one dared to breathe.
Just as they were about to clash—
UNKNOWN VOICE: "BOTH OF YOU—STOP THIS NONSENSE IMMEDIATELY."
Narrator: The commanding voice rang out like a thunderclap, silencing everyone. Katara and Nakon slowly loosened their grips on their weapons, the crowd holding its breath to see who had spoken.
TO BE CONTINUED...