Farewell and new journey

Inside the opulent tent, Crown Prince Baku seethed with anger, his eyes aflame with the desire for revenge. "Filthy barbarians!" he spat, his voice laced with venom. "I will annihilate them, every last one of them! They will pay for this humiliation."

The once-mighty army of Bakan had been reduced to a mere fraction of its former strength. The casualties had been devastating, and the survivors wore expressions of defeat and despair.

At that moment, a scout burst into the tent, his face flushed with excitement. "Your Highness, we have discovered a rich vein of gold nearby!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with awe.

Crown Prince Baku's eyes lit up with greed. "Guard that mine with your lives," he ordered. With the news of the gold mine, Baku wasted no time. He dispatched a rider to his father, the king, with urgent news. 

In the aftermath of the battle, Karba village was a scene of heart-wrenching sorrow. The echoes of war still hung heavy in the air as families mourned the loss of their loved ones. More than thirty brave souls had perished, but their sacrifice had repelled an army six thousand strong.

Elders, their faces etched with sorrow and resolve, gathered to discuss their fate. The decision weighed heavily on them, but they had no choice. The village, once their sanctuary, was now too dangerous to remain in.

Utto, sensing the gravity of the situation, approached his father with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Are we leaving, Father?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper against the backdrop of grief.

His father, Chief Kappa, let out a heavy sigh. He sat Utto down and began to recount a tale long-buried in the annals of their family history. He spoke of a time when their ancestors ruled the world, a time of pride and power. But that power had been shattered, their lineage betrayed, and they had been forced into hiding.

"Your great-grandfather was betrayed," Kappa said, his voice low and haunted. His eyes are heavy with the weight of history. He began, his voice carrying the echoes of a glorious past. "Long ago, our family stood as a mighty dynasty, aloof and unassailable. We watched over kingdoms, and our name inspired both awe and fear. But betrayal snatched that legacy away from us, plunging us into the shadows."

As Utto listened, his father's words painted a vivid picture of a time when their ancestors held the world in their hands. The tale was bitter, a reminder of a once-proud lineage now tarnished. Chief Kappa's eyes burned with determination. "We were rulers, Utto, rulers of lands stretching as far as the eye could see. But treachery shattered our empire. Your great-grandfather, a king in his own right, was deceived, and we became refugees in our own homeland.

Your grandfather, in his desperation to restore our fallen dynasty, ventured beyond the safety of our refuge. He sought our lost brethren, building an army in the hopes of reclaiming our rightful place."

Utto's eyes glinted with a mixture of pride and determination. "But, Father, why did he leave us behind?" he questioned, a hint of frustration in his voice.

Kappa's weathered face softened with empathy. "He believed that our refuge needed to remain hidden, a sanctuary for our people. We were to preserve the essence of our bloodline while he sought the means to reunite us with our lost kin."

Utto's heart swelled with a mix of pride and sorrow, his mind grappling with the weight of their heritage. "But, Father," he asked, his voice barely a whisper, "what must we do now?"

His father's gaze met his, filled with a resolve that echoed through the ages. "Now, we rebuild. We reclaim our rightful place, restore the honor of our name, and stand tall once more. It begins with our survival and ends with our triumph. We will carve a new destiny for the Karba tribe, one that will echo through the ages."

Meanwhile, in the opulent halls of the Bakan Kingdom, the king's eyes sparkled with avarice as he received news of the discovered gold mine. The king ordered the mobilisation of a colossal force to both protect the newfound riches and annihilate the so-called barbarians.

In the midst of this intrigue, the Karba tribe mourned their losses and prepared for their departure. Ami, her voice laden with sadness and determination, sang a poignant song that resonated through the village.

"Farewell, dear village,

where laughter once echoed loud.

We leave behind our tears, our fears, and forge ahead,

guided by hope's fragile thread. Though darkness surrounds us,

we carry the light within our hearts."

The mournful melody encapsulated the pain of parting and the flickering ember of hope that burned within each member of the tribe. As they ventured deeper into the jungle.