Night had begun to settle over Mohsi Village. Warm orange light flickered from the small stone lamps as Skodar, Sukodar and their grandmother Makosra sat near the hearth, the smell of steaming Koras fruit drifting through the humble house.
Makosra's wrinkled fingers traced the patterns carved on the wooden staff beside her. Her voice, soft yet weighted with age, broke the silence.
"Children… there is something you must know about our lineage."
Skodar tilted his head.
"Something about the Vakasa?"
Makosra nodded slowly.
The Truth of Their Origin
"Long… long ago," she began, "our ancestor, the holy Vaktari, came from another planet. A world far more advanced than our Dariq Planet. Their people were strong, brilliant, and blessed with divine life force. But a disaster—something catastrophic—forced them to abandon their home."
Sukodar's eyes widened.
"So… they came here?"
"Yes," Makosra whispered. "And when they arrived, your ancestor, the Vaktari woman… she fell in love with the ruler of this planet. They united. And from them… our Vakasa race was born."
Skodar blinked in disbelief.
"If we are their descendants," he said, "why aren't we strong? Why are we… like this?"
His fingers brushed his thin blue arms—fragile like dry branches.
Makosra's expression darkened.
"Because over thousands of cycles, our genetics deteriorated. Our bloodline weakened. Our bodies could no longer reproduce. The light inside us faded…"
Her voice trembled.
"That is why the outer races hunt us. Because we cannot resist."
For a moment, only the crackling fire answered.
A Peaceful Evening… Before the Storm
After dinner, the siblings prepared for the next day's work. As always, they would travel to the forest edge to collect Koras fruits—the only real source of energy for the Vakasa.
Skodar ruffled his little brother's hair.
"Tomorrow, let's gather more than usual. Grandmother's storage is running low."
Sukodar giggled.
"Okay! I will pick the biggest fruits!"
Makosra smiled faintly at them, but a shadow of worry hid behind her eyes.
The Attack in the Forest
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the tall dark trees as Skodar and Sukodar worked. The baskets slowly filled with glowing Koras fruit.
Sukodar wandered a few steps away.
"Brother! Look, this one is huge—"
His voice turned into a scream.
"Aaaahhh!"
Skodar dropped his basket and sprinted toward the sound.
He froze in horror.
A Srops—a low-level creature with the body of a snake and the limbs of a lizard—had sunk its needle-like fangs into Sukodar's leg. Blue, glowing blood dripped onto the leaves.
"Let him go!" Skodar roared.
He grabbed a fallen branch and struck the Srops again and again until it hissed and slithered away into the bushes.
Sukodar's body trembled.
"Brother… it hurts… I—I can't feel my leg…"
Tears filled Skodar's eyes.
"Stay awake! I've got you!"
He lifted his brother in his arms and ran, each step heavy with panic.
Desperation at Home
Makosra gasped when she saw the blood.
"No… no, not this…"
Her hands shook as she examined the wound. The poison had already begun to darken Sukodar's skin.
Skodar's voice cracked.
"Grandmother… please… save him!"
Makosra swallowed hard.
"There is only one way. The poison of a Srops can be neutralized… but only by the nectar of Antos Fruit."
Skodar stared at her.
"Where do I get it? Tell me—I'll go now!"
Makosra's eyes closed painfully.
"Child… Antos Fruit grows only on Tyen Mountain. The path is deadly. Beasts roam there. Even adult warriors don't return…"
Skodar knelt in front of her, gripping her hands tightly.
"He is my brother. My only family. I will not let him die."
Sukodar's weak voice called out.
"Brother… don't go… it's dangerous…"
Skodar leaned close, wiping the tears from his brother's cheeks.
"Even if the whole world stands in my way, I will still bring that fruit for you."
Makosra wiped her eyes, pride and fear clashing inside her.
"Then… go. But listen, Skodar. You must not act recklessly. You must survive. You must return home."
Skodar bowed his head.
"I promise, Grandmother."
A Journey Begins
As he stepped outside, the sky had begun to darken. Winds swirled through the valley, whispering warnings.
Skodar tightened the worn strap of his small travel bag, his heartbeat steady but heavy.
He looked back once—Sukodar lying weakly, Makosra praying silently.
"Please… let me succeed," he whispered to the skies.
Then he walked toward the shadowy silhouette of Tyen Mountain—the place feared even by warriors.
Every step took him farther from home…
and closer to a destiny he did not yet understand.
Chapter 3 - Tyen Mountain