Among those fighters, there stood a band of people of whom most should have been close in age to the elders around the country, yet only one of them held that status. He was the one to lead a group that lacked fear in battle.
"After all, we've already died once, and a young lad brought us back to life," the man wearing a gray beard—Makala—answered whenever he was asked about why he treats his life with such little care.
Next to Makala, there stood many of the old slaves from Aurelio's mansion. Even though a few of them who still had a chance at building a family migrated to different tribes, the elderly gave up on the thought of integrating somewhere else.
"This suits me so much better! And who knows, maybe one day we'll also find a place to settle. I want to see if Makala's old bones are up for a bit of fun now that he's had plenty to eat!" another woman spoke, glad that the younger generation she cared so much for was still thriving outside the mansion's dungeons.
It wasn't long before they found a suitable place to live out the rest of their years. Unfortunately, suitable places for Inyankarans are also convenient for Remans, so the fighters who came to reclaim their lands were having a hard time getting back what was theirs.
"Makala, wait! This place is well guarded, and the water canal around is tricky to deal with. Let's try another time," a younger Inyankaran said, but the group of freed prisoners wouldn't have any of it.
"At my age, there isn't another chance to wait for. You youngsters stay here! Let the experienced ones take care of the difficult part."
For some time after escaping the dungeons, the group led a nomadic life, yet they had plenty of time to gather their strength even so. With their plethora of knowledge, their magic often had the other fighters pull through unfavorable odds.
However, years of experience alone were far from enough to deal with a proper Reman outpost, and they soon found that out for themselves.
Hiding in a stone dome created by Makala, the ex-slaves felt contempt with the battle that had turned against them.
"At least we're going out our own way!" they all screamed together as a thunderstorm roared around them.
As water slowly pierced their stone dome, loud laughter coming from a Reman colonel who governed the area resounded, and Inyankarans fell one by one to his violent strikes. Yet they wouldn't have it any other way.
"The dome will be pierced soon! How about it, brave warriors? Will we go out with a roar?"
To Makala's question, the others cheered, ready to march to their deaths for the sake of the lands they loved.
"That's the restless Makala I fell for!" the same brave woman shouted. "That's that spirit of a youngster!"
"I wish I could have put this spirit to work some other way…" the old man sighed. "My brothers! Charge!"
As he spoke, Makala lowered the dome—the only thing that was keeping them alive.
He was ready to face what would come their way, yet as they hyped one another up, the Inyankarans forgot to pay attention to their surroundings.
By the time the walls were down, no water jets were left to come their way. No, there was no Reman left standing within the walls of the fortress. Only on top of the highest tower were there two people. One of them wore a white uniform full of medals. On his head, there was a hat, a hat that the wind took away, leading it far away towards the Reman headquarters.
The other man seemed much younger, young enough to call him a boy. He wore almost nothing, save for some clothing around his waist and purple tattoos all over his muscular body, or at least all over the back he was showing to the Inyankarans.
The next moment, the nicely dressed man's body went limp, and he fell from the tower the two stood on.
Unsure what to make of what they'd witnessed, hordes of Inyankaran fighters came running out of the woods, ready to capture the new figure that had taken over the enemy base. However, before anyone could try anything, the prisoners of old ran back, and stopped them just in time.
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"Stop it! This man is not your enemy!" Makala screamed.
"Boy," a voice thundered from the tower, correcting the elder. "I never got to become a man."
As the one painted purple spoke, the others listened. Some understood what he meant, while others looked around confused. Out of those who knew him better, the ballsy woman spoke first.
"The way I look at it, I could call you nothing but a man. Were I at least ten years younger…"
The woman meant what she said as a joke, but the man up top didn't laugh. Instead, he put on a weak smile as he turned his head halfway towards the people.
"I'm glad to see you in high spirits. I take it those past months have been kind to you if you get to look and talk like that at your age," the thundering voice continued.
"You can see for yourself, if only you'd come closer so we could take look at you~"
"Was that meant to sound the way it did?"
"It's meant to sound however you like it better~," the older woman said with a flirtatious attitude. Finally, that made the hero that saved them laugh. It was a powerful laugh—a laugh that resounded in their hearts.
"Haha! You know, back in my day, we used to call you cougars."
"Cougars? What's that got to do with anything? And why are you talking like you're the older one, young man?"
The fun banter between them kept dragging on. It was enjoyable for everyone who knew what had happened between those people months ago, but the man with purple tattoos decided to cut the fun short.
"I leave the demolitions to you. Enjoy your new tribe, old man," the young man said as he once again turned away from the lot.
"Wait! Won't you eat with us this once? I want to know what you've been through!" Makala screamed back, but the man didn't turn his way.
"If I could, I would tell you all about it, but I don't have an answer myself," he added, jumping off of the tower on a sturdy buck. The next instant, both of them turned to lightning and left for the clouds, leaving behind more questions than answers.
Unaware whether his words would reach, Makala hesitated for a second, yet after a short pause, he shouted regardless.
"That's the second time you've saved us!" he said.
"Make sure you let me return the favor while I still have years left to live, Nayavu!"
*****
Riding through the dense clouds, a boy wearing a purple tattoo that depicted lightning landed near a woman dressed in clothes of that same color.
"How was the fight? Did you manage to save those reckless grannies?" the woman asked.
The boy got off his stag called Tahu and sat himself next to the lady. He didn't answer her question, but he scoffed at the way she referred to those people.
"Aren't you representatives way older than those people?" the boy said, biting deeply into yet another peculiar fruit received from Ayanda a second ago.
Yet the boy didn't get an answer either. Instead, he got smacked over the head by the thunder representative sitting next to him. The boy covered his head and looked at her confused; it was the first time he saw the woman flustered.
"Didn't anyone teach you not to call out a lady's age? Do I really look that old to you?" she said, with a pouting face—an expression showing a moment of weakness that may never come again.
"I mean… I just assumed…" the boy tried to explain, but he soon slapped both of his cheeks and realized he should say something else.
"You don't even look a day past your twenties!"
"That's because I'm in my twenties, Nayavu!" the woman added. "Representatives don't get extended lifespans just because we're strong! Well, maybe the ones who control time or their own bodies…"
With his assumptions shattered, Nayavu could do nothing but stare with wide eyes at Ayanda.
"Wait… You're telling me you've gotten all of that power in only twenty or so years?!" he asked, surprised.
"Hmmm… That isn't exactly it. The whole process of becoming a representative is what gives you a lot of understanding of the element. Even if only barely, you interact with a god after all. Similar to you two fighting the thunderbird."
Nayavu nodded to show he understood the logic behind Ayanda's words. He then looked at the ground, observing the ants next to whom he was a giant. If he could teach any of those ants magic with a single zap, would that ant soon come to be revered by the rest? Would it be treated as a god? Would Nayavu become the ant god for granting a single individual power? What would the ant even do with such an ability?
"It would probably die if you tried," Ayanda said, interrupting his thoughts. "That's the fate of representatives after all… Our life as humans is cut short regardless. If you don't die in the selection process, you die fighting your beast. If you manage to win, then your human self dies for you to become a god…"
As she spoke, the woman once again tightly gripped the helmet she always kept close. She had a habit of suddenly dropping unimaginable information for no particular reason. Maybe it was to play with the boy and see his stunned face, yet Ayanda didn't seem to enjoy telling this particular story.
Taken aback by her words, the boy wanted to ask the representative about the "selection process" she had just mentioned, but when he opened his mouth, a completely different question escaped Nayavu's lips.
"That helmet—did its owner also go out like that?"
Instead of a surprised expression, which would have been the normal reaction, Ayanda smiled and looked at the boy.
"Do you want to know?" she asked, her look both gloomy and brimming with power that seemed to be increasing with each passing day.
Nayavu, amazed at the lady next to him, gulped down on his words, hesitating to say anything more on the subject.
It was thanks to the buck on his other side who poked at him with his horns that Nayavu snapped out of it. The stag let out a puff that Nayavu always interpreted as Tahu laughing at him. That way, he managed to distract the boy from the awkward situation he had put himself in.
In response, Nayavu pushed Tahu's head away, earning himself a wheeze for the bashful side he was displaying.
After a bit of pushing around with the animal who was mocking him, the boy looked back at the woman patiently waiting for an answer.
"If it's no trouble, I'd like to hear more about it," he said, his gaze straight as an arrow.
"In that case, let's talk about it before the thunderbird comes back from hunting. Today could be your big day, after all."
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