Arumat got teleported to a new world where imagination is the source of power. Travelling with his newly founded companion Girish, they travel the new world to seek out more adventures. What will he find in this new, mysterious world? How can he use his imagination to triumph against his enemies?
Arumat got teleported to a new world where imagination is the source of power. Travelling with his newly founded companion Girish, they travel the new world to seek out more adventures. What will he find in this new, mysterious world? How can he use his imagination to triumph against his enemies?
Frohl was a village steeped in beauty, with curves of twisted rubble roads and mountains that cascaded into streaming waterfalls. The rushing water hit the rocks below, creating an effervescent mist that danced in the air in peace and harmony. The mountains and waterfalls gradually transitioned to calm, clear streams that flowed alongside the roads leading to the village. Frohl seemed to be built on clouds, with lush greenery from the thicket enveloping the area, creating a paradise-like ambience. The stunning village, perched on the edge of a rolling green hill, bustled with activity as people came and went, each with their own purpose and destination. It was a place of vibrant energy, where newcomers were welcomed with open arms and those who stayed found a sense of belonging. The village was alive with the sounds of laughter and chatter as people went about their day. But amidst the serene beauty of Frohl, something sets it apart from all other villages. An eye hovering in the sky watched over the village, observing its inhabitants. The villagers seemed oblivious to its presence, going about their daily routines as if nothing was out of the ordinary. It brought a newfound sense of peace. The villagers knew the sheriff, the steadfast protector of Frohl, was controlling the Eye.
As the sun rose over the village, it illuminated the colourful houses that dotted the winding roads, their vibrant hues complementing the lush greenery that surrounded them. People strolled along the cobbled streets, some on their way to work, while others simply enjoyed the crisp morning air and the sun's warmth on their faces.
On a riverbank stood a green-haired man who went by the name Arumat. Approximately 20 years of age, he had chiselled cheekbones that defined his face and a razor-sharp jawline. His stature complemented the terrainâs rough edges around him. Equipped with broad shoulders, he seemed hunched from the weight of the world. The young man had deep, black eyes that hinted at a life filled with both sadness and grief. His gaze, once bright and lively, now carried a weight of experience etched into the lines around his eyes.
Arumat clenched his fist as he frowned at his own reflection, shown in the calm, clear water of a small river. The river was full of fish. The air was serene, and the view was breathtaking. Everything was perfect. Well, almost, if it werenât for the fish that shot away from every attempt this man made. He stomped with frustration; he was at his wit's end. Today, yesterday, and even the day before, he simply could not catch any fish. He kicked a stone into the water, dispersing the surrounding fish. âItâs been almost a week since I came here, and not once have I caught a fish. How is that possible?â The clear water showed muddy banks underneath. A flashback of dismembered bodies covered in mud, blazing fires, and darkness was everywhere, and harrowed screams came flooding in. The pungent stench of decay hovered like a cloud in the air. âWas it just a dream, or was this a memory? Nothing makes sense; I know with assurance that I answer to the name Arumat... How did I arrive here? a place where joy comes to die? Nothing ever happens here! It's always too silent. It is almost like I am being watched very closely.â
An elderly couple strolled along the riverbank, the man's weathered voice carrying across the water. âAny luck with the fish, boy?â
âHave you managed to remember anything?â his wife chimed in; her smile full of warmth.
âI am not a boy,â Arumat retorted.
But the lady's eyes softened, and she gently tugged at her husband, pleading, âMaybe we should give him some of ours?â
Brushing her hand off his arm, the husband grumbled, âYou're too soft on him.â
The man reached his hand into the sloshing river, pondering aloud, âI don't recall anyone catching fish for us when we first arrived here.â With closed eyes, he swiftly withdrew his hand, clutching a bream with sparkling scales.
Arumat's eyes widened in astonishment. âHow did you manage to get those?â he eagerly asked.
The elderly gentleman erupted in laughter, his amusement unrestrained. âIt's a secret,â he teased.
Softly patting her husband on the shoulder, the woman interjected, âDon't mock the boy, dear. He has yet to grasp the laws of this realm.â
The gentleman's smug smile shifted towards Arumat, his eyes glinting with intrigue. âI believe it's time we enlighten him about this world and its workings. It has been almost a week since the cataclysmic event.â
The elderly woman swiftly silenced her husband, emphasising, âAlmost a week, but remember, dear. He must complete the full week before we utter a word. It's what the Elder decreed, donât you recall?â
The couple continued their path as the woman reminded her husband, they had been in Arumatâs shoes many moons before. The man looked back and said, âCome along, lad; you can have a share of todayâs catch.â
âI donât need your help,â Arumat replied bitterly.
âSuit yourself, young lad,â replied the man as he and his wife walked away and towards the village.
***
The Fall happened long ago. It was an event of unimaginable proportions, where creatures from different races and worlds were abruptly summoned to this world. They walk among us now with no apparent rhyme or reason. The arrival of these beings had caused quite a stir, and many were left to wonder what fate had in store for them.
The young man in question was just one of many others like him, forced to wander through our glorious world with no knowledge or recollection of why or how he got there. They were lost souls, searching for answers to questions no one seemed to have the answers to.
***
Arumat had many questions about what had happened. Why did they keep mentioning the Fall? And most importantly, how did he effortlessly catch that many fish with no rod or any kind of tool? None of that made any sense to him; the confusion only worsened. Since the couple had no intention of revealing what they claimed to be a secret, he thought I should follow them for now, and I may find answers later.
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They walked along the riverbank and towards a paved path. The way to the village was straight ahead. All they had to do was follow the gravel road. Frohl had the best dirt for crops; the farmers worked diligently and made the village thrive. One could spot rows and rows of various crops, and livestock could be seen everywhere. Many others have built their homes in Frohl. It was by far the best town to settle in, away from war. The couple reached the village, while Arumat followed from a distance. They headed towards a merchantâs stall. The elderly man took off his hat and greeted the merchant.
âHow much for todayâs fish, Kelsin? Theyâre fresh out of the river,â asked the old man.
Kelsin, the merchant, tipped his hat and nodded in acknowledgement.
âWelcome. Ethelson, Maâam. Well, sir, what kind of fish did you catch today?â
Ethelson passed the fish to Kelsin.
âWe have rainbow trout, some crappies, and other fish just to your liking, and guess what? That boy was trying to catch fish from the lake today with a rod!â
Both Kelsin and Ethelson broke out in laughter. The lady gestured for them to stop as she took pity on Arumat. Kelsin then whispered to the couple as he gazed upon Arumat, âIs he the same boy who recalls nothing?â
Arumat was not far away. He did not realise that they could actually see him. He tried to listen to the conversation, but he barely heard a thing due to the distance. He got frustrated and moved closer to be in earshot of the conversation. He noticed, not far off from the entrance of the stall, a creature.
The alien creature, by the name of Nok, appeared akin to a dog with six agile legs supporting its lithe frame. Its fur, a blend of greenish-grey hues, shimmered under foreign light. Its eyes, not a pair but a quartet, peered intently from its angular head, revealing a keen sense of observation and curiosity.
 It lay on its belly, and it was chained to the post. Before Arumat could entertain the thought of someone being in chains, he realised that heâd just remembered something from his past. He froze. âBack home, where everyone was human, back where...â As he tried to recall more of the memory, Arumat suddenly saw images of chains and cold floors and heard the rattle of shackles. He saw bloodied wrists bound to a short-chained leash that protruded from the ground. The bond chains rested heavily around the neck of someone battered to a pulp. He felt a sudden burst of pain in the pit of his stomach before he recognised that the person rendered helpless on the floor was him.
Arumat was bewildered by the memories that had resurfaced. He found himself lost in deep contemplation. Is this a memory? Is that me who was chained? Why?
While deep in thought, Arumat approached Nok and stooped down slowly. âNo one should be in chains.â Meanwhile, Kelsin and Ethelson were engrossed in a heavy discussion about prices and the tough times everyone suffered. Then, a more serious conversation started. Kelsin advised the couple to be cautious as he explained, âRumour has it, there are bandits out there stealing resources.â
Arumat overheard them and involuntarily scoffed, âSurely no bandits will come here; thereâs nothing here worth stealing.â
As Nok whined and cried, Arumat thought about how he could save it. He muttered to himself, âIf only I had a tool, something blunt to break this chain, this creature would be set free by now.â In that instant, to Arumat's astonishment, the chains from the creature shattered to pieces as though someone had hit them. Nok, now free, looked at Kelsin and then at the chains that now lay on the ground. Without a second thought, it bolted and charged towards the woods.
Ethelson and his wife watched as the loose Nok bolted and Kelsin ran after it, shouting and trying to catch it. The couple stood in astonishment, unsure of what to do in this situation. After a moment, they exchanged glances and decided to continue their way, leaving Nok chase behind. Arumat sought refuge from the scorching sun and took shelter under the shade of Kelsin's now-unattended stall. He glanced over the counter, curious about what else the booth offered. He sensed someone's presence as well as the appearance of a shadow falling over the counter.
Arumat saw a grotesque-looking lizard in a green and gold tunic. It stood with a hardened gaze trained on Arumat. The lizard had a large crest just above his chest. His eyes had a crescent slit like a reptile's, and he wore a feathered hat with pointy shoes. Despite the flowery garb, his stance was alert. âWell, well, well, stealing, are we? Do you think I did not notice you, my boy?ââ said the lizard as he grabbed Arumat by his hand.
Arumat tried to escape the clutch of the lizard. âUnhand me now, you filthy mongrel! I AM NOT A CROOK.ââ
The lizard chuckled at Arumat's comment. âAnd a foul mouth, too,â he remarked. Then, his tone turned more serious as he gestured towards the sky. âThe Eye sees all, my boy. It alerts me whenever something fishy is about to happen.â Arumat followed the lizard's gaze and observed the watchful eye in the sky. The lizard announced himself as the sheriff and charged Arumat with petty theft. Arumat was appalled at the accusation.
With a smirk, the sheriff grabbed Arumat by the neck, his face moving closer to Arumat. âIn these parts of town, I am the law, and you ought to watch your tongue around me.â The sheriff flicked his forked tongue at Arumat. âAnd for that, you will be put in a cell.â
Arumat tried to break the chokehold he had been put into. Through short gasps of air, he managed to string words together to form a sentence. âYou are making a mistake, sheriff.â Â Â
The sheriff chuckled before letting out a snort. âOh, I'm sure of it,â he said with a wicked grin. He then swiftly bound Arumat, forcefully leading him towards a peculiarly designed buildingâthe sheriff's office. It had the appearance of a textured rock formation with awkwardly shaped windows. It seemed as though it had been carved out of the rock itself, bearing rough edges and crevices that could potentially be home to various slithering creatures or, even worse, giant insects. Despite its strange and somewhat eerie appearance, there was an odd allure to it, stemming from the mystery of how all the rocks managed to remain balanced on top of each other without collapsing.
The sheriff then called the guards to drag Arumat further into the building and into a large room. A large slab of rock was positioned in the far corner of the room. The room had pasty-looking walls, and it featured chequered floors. There were sun-dried plants that gave the room an odd feel. Only a large sunroof illuminated the otherwise dark room.
Arumat looked around and thought, this foul-smelling chamber is an ill-suited abode for a lizard of aristocratic stature. The excessive use of vibrant greens and yellows saturating the space is overwhelming and discordant.
The sheriff stood beside his desk as he watched a guard hold Arumat. âTo begin with, we can accuse him of attempted theft. Thereâs also the, hmm, kidnapping of Kelsinâs pet.â
Arumat interjected, âI did nothing of that sort!â
The sheriff licked his eyes as uncertainty danced at the edge of his forked tongue. âNo theft? Weâll see. But you did call me a filthy mongrel, and a creature went loose as soon as you entered the village. That counts for something, right?â
Arumat shook his head in disarray. âAll the points you stated are irrelevant. They have no connection to each other, apart from me calling you a filthy mongrel. I said what I said.â
***
Arumat, with his unmistakable aura, possessed an allure destined to draw both admiration and peril in equal measure. I, a seasoned observer of these extraordinary events, knew he would be a catalyst for captivating encounters and unexpected trials. Little did I anticipate, however, that such enthralling circumstances would unfold so swiftly. The currents of destiny were already at play, orchestrating a symphony of intrigue and challenge.
As I continued to shadow Arumat, my instincts remained steadfast, their guidance unerring throughout countless journeys and encounters. Never before had they failed me, and I had no reason to doubt their wisdom now. The tapestry of my experiences, woven with threads of adventure and revelation, had prepared me for this very momentâto unravel the enigma that was Arumat and to embrace the trials that awaited us both.
***
The guards pushed Arumat through the many doors and into the cellar, where they threw him behind strange, slimy iron bars that emitted a putrid stench. The sheriff then ordered them to take into account the crimes he had been charged with. The guards were immediately dismissed to tend to their tasks. As Arumat began to get settled into his cell, the sheriff lit his pipe and asked, as he puffed out smoke while he stood across from him, âSo, Arumat, do you still have no memories of your past life?â
âJust a fragment.â Arumat sighed heavily.
The sheriff inhaled deeper to match Arumatâs exhale and paced back and forth before he closed in on Arumat in his cell.
âWell, you must have a lot of questions. Let me tell you this,â he leaned to the bar. âUnlike the realm you came from, things work differently here.â
Arumat shrugged nonchalantly and said, âWhat does this have to do with anything?â
The sheriff blew smoke at Arumat, a feeble attempt to annoy him. âIt does, actually. Everything you have been found guilty of has played a part in this.
Arumat closed his eyes to put careful thought into his words, or so it seemed. âPlay with words all you like. It is pointless to be part of a new world.â
The sheriff scoffed as he walked towards his seat, which was placed in front of the cell. He blew out of his pipe again, strangely releasing more smoke than he took in. âPointless it may all seem to you, but each one has its purpose. Some are more glorious than others, while some don't amount to much. But to find out oneâs purpose, that will be a hard journey to take.â The sheriff watched closely for any reaction from Arumat and then pressed on. âWe give new arrivals a week with no information, which is why no one has told you anything yet. No knowledge about how things work here. Moreover, no sense of boundary is mentioned in the slightest. The Elders have ordered us to do so. The rest of us, such as myself, kept a close watch on them, just to get a feel for who they are and to see whatâs in their nature.â
Arumat said, âTo keep the evil away.â
The sheriff nodded in agreement. âPrecisely. But you? Youâre just a small-time crook in a big new world. At least I can make you out to be so. You see, with my authority, I can put a label on youâa mark that will last till the end of time. News spreads quickly in these parts of the village; you will be treated like an outcast. But I can also change it for the better, so that people will respect you for your name, title, and status. You can be 'my' resourceful little helper.â
Arumat had just about enough. He reached for the sheriff's neck through the cell bars. The iron bars did their part and stopped Arumat in his tracks with an inch to spare from the sheriffâs face. Arumat growled and stared until the sheriff got up from his chair, ever so calmly.
âThere, there, no need for such behaviour. Calm down, and we can talk. If you are willing to work for me, I can teach you to use the power.â
Arumat, frustrated, threw his hands in the air, and yelled, âWhat power! I don't know what you are going on about, sheriff. Unless you intend to make any sense soon, save your breath and leave me be.âÂ
The sheriff looked at Arumat for a long while and adjusted how he sat again in his chair. âWell, I suppose itâs time to tell you...everything I know, maybe it will change your mind,â he continued. âAs I said, this world isnât like the others. Itâs nothing like the place you have come from.â The sheriff rested his hands on his lap and gently lifted only a finger. Whoosh, out of nowhere, a knife appeared in his hand.
Arumat was shocked, but he watched intently as the sheriff explained. âAll beings here have powers. What we imagine comes to life. Imagination is the most important thing here.â
It was at that moment that Arumat recalled what happened in the village and said, âKelsinâs pet, its collar earlier...shattered by itself.â
The sheriff nodded in agreement. âThatâs why using imagination without proper training is dangerous. You unintentionally broke that beastâs chains. And you havenât even completed your one week yet. With no knowledge, you have already made use of your imagination. You will become something special; this much I am assured of, but what that something is remains unknown. We will just have to mould you to be useful for this village.â
Arumat smirked at the sheriff. âIf some people have a glorious purpose, then I am not satisfied with just being useful, especially not useful to you.â
The sheriff inhaled through his pipe and only smiled. The smoke turned into a hand. It hovered over the door to Arumatâs cell and swung it open.
Arumat was taken aback. âThis is interesting.â
The sheriff looked up from the corners of his eyes and said, âI know, right? With imagination as your power, you can conjure, control, or change just about anything. You can have whatever you can imagine in that mind of yours, but of course, you cannot imagine something you have not experienced or seen before. At least from my experience.â
Arumat walked towards the sheriff and glared at him intently. âMeaning?â
The sheriff gestured for Arumat to come out of the cell and pointed at the dagger. âMeaning that, I can't imagine a knife if I don't know what a knife looks like. Knowing the attributes of what you want to imagine will enable you to build on them. That is when getting creative with your imagination can get you in and out of situations effortlessly, and scenarios like stealing in broad daylight can be avoided. You are free to go now, but remember, my offer still stands.â
Arumat, with a genuine smile this time, said, âThank you, but I respectfully decline.â
The sheriff puffed at his pipe and laughed as he rose from his chair. âSee, you are already learning. I could do well with someone like you, but then you declined.â He paused for a bit. âIt seems we have intruders.â The sheriff closed his eyes. He focused his mind on the Eye and spoke to the people through it: âPeople of Frohl, we are under attack. All who can fight come to the gate. The rest, please stay inside and do not open the door until I give you my orders.â
As they were about to retrace their steps to the exit, the situation turned chaotic as the walls liquefied and the doorframe collapsed. Molten metal dripped like lava, and the intense heat became unbearable. Arumat, quick on his feet, retreated a few steps down to escape the worst of the scalding heat, his instincts kicking in.
The two of them walked through the long hallways and back into the morbid study of the sheriff. âI guess the bandits reached the village quicker than I expected. Will you fight beside me today, Arumat?â
Arumat directed his attention to the sounds behind the door: âIf I can save myself first, maybe.â
The room was overtaken by humanoid, slimy bandits with weapons larger than Arumat and the sheriff. Arumat stood back-to-back with the sheriff. The slimy bandits encircled the tag team. Keeping a steady stare, they heaved as one, expelling green fumes that carried the smell of rotting flesh. Arumat pushed his back closer to the sheriff. âSo, any ideas for an escape sheriff?â
The sheriff looked from the corners of his eyes and studied what was left of the room. âI am thinking.â
âWell, you will have to think a little quicker; these unsightly... or whatever they are, are rapidly approaching, making it difficult to breathe!â Arumat said it with an annoying tone.
The sheriff squinted his eyes to scour the room, and something caught his attention on the ceiling. âI do have an idea; step aside on the count of three, one, two, three!â
They both stood side by side with each other, adjacent to the entrance. At this, and much to Arumatâs surprise, the sheriff broke off his tail, which trembled. The bandits were preoccupied with the tail, not realising that the sheriff had turned around to look at the large circular skylight that was now directly above them. As they stared closer at the shivering tail, it was an opportune moment the sheriff had hoped for. In a display of mystic prowess, he conjured a dagger and hurled it skyward, its trajectory aimed directly at the fragile glass roof.
The shattered sunroof lay in pieces, its fractured glass sparkling like diamonds in the sunlight. The slime bandits, caught off guard, found themselves momentarily blinded, but that didn't deter them from their nefarious plan. Their target? Arumat and the sheriff.
With swift and ruthless precision, they seized the sheriff, overpowering him. Taking advantage of the knife strapped to the sheriffâs waist, they turned it against him, plunging it under his chin. As the blade found its mark, the sheriff's eyes widened, his once-crescent gaze frozen in shock.
From the chaotic crowd, a humanoid slime emerged, its form oozing with malevolence. It unleashed a vile and odorous sticky substance resembling hot tar, which crept up the sheriff's body, mercilessly devouring his flesh. The sticky mass advanced, climbing upward until it reached his face.
The sheriff, now sprawled on the floor, writhed in agony, his blinking reduced to mere reflex. Helpless and trapped, Arumat watched in horror as life drained from the sheriff's eyes. The slimy bandits orchestrated a sinister display, leaving no doubt about the depths of their depravity. Arumat tried to run from the murky and slimy bandits, but then he heard a distinct voice say, âYou're next if you don't comply.â
A deep-voiced slime that was comparatively larger in size and darker in colour than the rest finally said, âTake him. He looks sturdy. Heâll be useful to us.â One of the bandits spoke with a baritone voice, âSturdy, scrumptious, the perfect slave. Amongst the ten that have been captured, you will bring us the most gold.â
As the word gold left his mouth, another jittery slime waved a bag of gold shillings and told the enormous slime, âThe hoard of resources we captured today...ten and counting! He is the best one we have had so far.â   Â
The air was thick with the putrid odour of burning flesh and the sight of charred homes as the relentless wind fuelled the flames that engulfed the last remnants of the village. Amidst the chaos, Arumat desperately scanned the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of familiar faces. Still, all he saw were terror-stricken individuals and the haunting echoes of distant cries of despair. The fleeing bandits dragged Arumat as they disappeared into the gloomy depths of the forest, leaving Frohl reduced to nothing more than ashes in their wake.
Soon, they left the village a significant distance behind them and pushed deeper into the woods until an encampment emerged later at night. With all three moons lighting up the place, Arumat witnessed a mountain. It stood as a steadfast guardian, cradling a cave in its embrace. Towering peaks surround it, their majestic heights reaching towards the heavens. Jagged cliffs and steep slopes, with hardy vegetation, cascaded down to meet the cave's threshold, as if nature bows in deference to this ancient cavern's raw power and beauty. Arumat stumbled forward, pulled by the slimes, and saw pitched tents everywhere, nestled between carts of foraged goodsâa field of mines spread well under the mountain.
The leader of the bandits then resounded in a shout of merriment. âWe are home lads.â
Arumat, with his hands tied behind his back, mumbled, âI cannot believe I have been captured twice on the same day. Today is not my lucky day! And by whom? By these disgusting-looking slimes.â
A jittery slime moved closer to Arumat and extended his hands. It carried a terrible smell that reminded Arumat of the sewers. Just the memory of it made Arumatâs face scrunch in disdain. Not too pleased, the slime held Arumat by his hair and said, âI don't like the look he is giving us; I think this vermin is insulting us.â
The leader nodded in agreement. âIndeed, he IS insulting us! For a creature in chains, you have a feisty little tongue. That's an easy fix. A few days in the cell should do the trick!â The slimy bandits came together and heaved in a rhythmic murmur as they chanted a shanty.
What shall we do with the ol Scully boy?
Who rocks our boat & errs us all,
Shall we let the lofty win, boys?
No no no!
What shall we do then, boys?
Cell. Cell. Throw âem into the cell,
Wheâr the nights are long
Wheâr the days are dark
Wheâr the ghosts of pasts
Beat em limb for limb.
What shall we do, O what shall we do!
Heave, Ho, Throw âem all into the cell.
Wheâr even the bravest comâ to heel.
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The bandits continued to sing as they entered the cave in the encampment and threw Arumat into the cell deep inside the cave. He hit the cold, wet floor like offcut meat. As the sound of the shanty slowly came to a whisper, he felt his way in the dark for a dry spot. Eventually, he reached a wall at the end of the cell. He sat there, wondering why the floor was so cold and wet and whether he was seated on floors drenched in blood. The cell smelled of something rotten. As he sat there, lost in his trail of thoughts, he remembered his last conversation with the sheriff. What you imagine comes to life. Arumat held his hand high as he tried to summon tiny flames to illuminate the room.
One ball of flame floated in the air, but he was unsatisfied with the darkness that still hovered in the cell, so he commanded once more. âMore light!â More fireballs appeared like will-o-wisps. One after the other, they filled the cell and illuminated it like a well-lit study. âThat's more like it.â Arumat dusted off his clothes and patted the leftover slime and rubble off of him, but just as he was about to sit back down, he heard a sinister giggle. The red-hot fireballs turned blue, and a chilly air enveloped the cell. Arumat tried to look for anything unusual in the dark. He stretched his hands and waved them in the darkness of the cell. âShow yourself!â
Arumat's stance widened, his body poised and ready, as his eyes gradually adjusted to the flickering dimness of the blue flames that illuminated the surroundings. Every fibre of his being was heightened, and his senses were acutely attuned to catch even the faintest hint of sound or movement within the depths of the shadows.
And then his gaze narrowed with curiosity and wariness, fixating on a mysterious figure that appeared before him. This being, cloaked in inky darkness as impenetrable as the night itself, stood as a formidable presence, commanding attention, and igniting a surge of primal instincts within Arumat.
 As soon as the creature opened its venomous mouth, the scent of sulphur doused Arumat. He spoke in a deep, bellowed voice, âYouâre not like the rest. Something about you does not smell right.â
The creature slithered towards Arumat until he crept from the back of his shoulders and whispered beside Arumatâs ear. âYou do not have care or concern for comradeship. It seems you only want what best suits you. You are nothing like the others before youânormal, I would say. I have seen my share of oddities. Yet I find something out of the ordinary. Considering the way I look, that is quite unusual indeed. Remember, I have been here longer than you. But normal ones bore me, and they are like something I would use to pick my teeth.â
The creature sucked his teeth and snickered in laughter. âBesides, whereâs the fun in hunting someone who does not put up a fight? Am I right, or am I right? But you, I can already tell, will be a bother.â It shuddered and laughed maniacally before it looked deep into Arumatâs eyes in interest and said, âYou and I are going to have a lot of fun, much better than the stupid animal over there.â
The smog-like creature then vanished into thin air. In the deep silence that followed, Arumat yelled loudly. âLIGHT.â The small balls of flames flared back into bright, yellow brilliance. Through laboured breathing and whimpered giggles, a voice replied, âWe do not need light. I'm a prisoner like you, and I can see you just fine! Besides, the conversation I just heard seemed interesting,â he continued to giggle.
A battered animal was visible in the far corner of the cell thanks to the many will-o-wisps that were lighting it up. Arumat, in shock, raised his voice even louder as he tried to take in the details of the creature before him.
Before him stood a figure resembling a colossal hyena, boasting a hulking build that oozed raw power and primal strength. Every sinew and muscle of his body seemed carved with the indomitable force of a relentless brute, while an array of fresh scars crisscrossed his skin, each telling a tale of recent battles fought and survived. His dreadlocks covered his face as if he were ashamed of something.
âWho are you?â Arumat asked the wounded figure before him.
The hyena turned to his side and sighed deeply. âSpeak less. save your energy until they sell you.â The hyena turned around to face the wall to get some more sleep.
Arumat, with a confused look, inquired, âThey?â
âDo you know nothing? The enslavers... I heard from the other prisoners when they brought me here. They are going to sell us at a market. Itâs over,â retorted the frustrated hyena.
Arumat vented almost immediately. âThey might as well kill me instead; I wonât be sold! I am not like you.â
The hyena turned around, struck the bars hard enough to make them ring, and said nothing.
âYou do have a name, donât you, creature?â said Arumat, flustered by the creature's outburst.
Annoyed, the hyena sat up on its makeshift bed before he laid on his side. âMy name is Girish, from La Bestia race, in case you do not know, and if you call me a creature again, I will call you... Flat face in return.â
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***
La Bestia is a race resembling familiar animals to us humans, characterized by their strong sense of pride. They hold their devotion to the goddess Savanah in high regard, but over time, some of them began to worship another member of their species, King Nimir, who had conquered most of their lands. As the years passed, the La Bestians gradually forgot about Savanah, which displeased her greatly. In response, she unleashed turmoil upon their lands, administering a punishment she deemed appropriate for their forgetfulness.
Upon King Nimir's demise, the people came to realize that he was merely a being like themselves, and their worship of him had been a mistake. Ultimately, they ceased their veneration of him, though they continued to hold him in high regard. As he united their tribes and provide the protection sought by the vulnerable among them.
***
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Arumat, confused at Girishâs attempt to insult him, laughed. âIs that all you got? That is pathetic! But I like you. Ha!â
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***
Whispers of a fateful destiny surround Arumat, swirling amidst the rumours of his imminent sale. If true, his formidable presence and unyielding strength will propel him to the legendary seas of silver grass. Yet, if the Dark One has already crossed his path, then Arumat's aura must have ignited a flame of curiosity within the entity.
My instincts, rarely mistaken, raise questions in my mind. Will Arumat tread the broad path leading to the abyss, succumbing to darkness, and leaving a trail of bodies in his wake? Or will he forge his untrodden path, defying fate's grasp?
The answers lie hidden within the nebulous tapestry of Arumat's choices, his actions shaping the course of his own destiny. Only time will unfurl the secrets that reside within his indomitable spirit as he stands at the crossroads of greatness and damnation.
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Nameless King: Awakening by Mohamed Al Kindy
Mohamed Al Kindy, the author, has created a tale that sees the mind as the most viable tool in battle. Conjuring items from one's past can help secure victory in the most tumultuous situations. The story's main protagonist is Arumat, a man who has no idea how he came to this foreign world but soon learns that his brain is his most powerful weapon. A gruff man with a cunning acumen for conflict, he befriends Girish and Jumza, both with unique abilities. Tasked with helping Jumza find her lost husband, they venture farther into the world only to be central figures in turning the tide in a political and religious war.
Imagine the first time you watched the movie Gladiator, add a touch of the Star Wars characters from the bar scene, and finish with a splash of the Wizard of Oz. I appreciated the concept of conjuring items from one's past to use for combat tactics. It led to a reading experience that was unique and fresh. Awaking in a world so varied from human existence yet with some of the same modern-day issues was a brilliant way for the reader to connect with the characters. The writing style was easily digested with plenty of creativity, especially when portraying new alien races. The story had a decent pace but could have been longer to include more depth of the world and strangers within. With more backstory, the reader would feel more invested in this interesting environment.
As I summon my final verdict, I am armed with nothing but a smile and a yearning for more. I hope that this world will continue to evolve and I can consume more of this magical place. I am recommending this for lovers of the fantasy genre with a sensible twist. I am giving this 3 out of 5 stars.Â