Authors: Brandon Chen
“Don’t expect to be treated like a princess
in Bakaara,” Yata said simply, folding his arms as he looked at her with a
rock-solid stare. “The times are tough, and there isn’t a lot to live off of. There
are fewer luxuries in comparison to Faar as I’ve heard. You’ll be posing as my
sister since no one knows whether or not I have surviving relatives. You can’t
speak the same way to other people as you would to commoners either, Aika. For
example, that accent.” Yata paused, waiting for his words to sink in. Aika
tilted her head as if to say,
What accent?
Yata ignored the motion and
said gruffly, “Go into the other room and get dressed into the clothes that
Keimaro brought. We will show you around the town after.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay the
entire time,” Keimaro muttered with a shrug. “I’m beginning my training with my
father today. He is finally teaching me swordplay. We should make the tour
brief if anything.”
“Yeah,” Yata said. “She’s gonna be here for
a while, so she’ll adapt to it eventually.”
The two of them waited in an awkward
silence as the princess shuffled around in the other room while changing. She
came back into the room in some rather short, torn shorts and a small gray t-shirt.
It was a bland look for someone who maintained natural beauty, but Keimaro
still found her quite beautiful. She definitely would stand out in their
village, he could tell right away.
Keimaro blinked a few times as she toyed
shyly with her long brown hair and looked at him with her royal blue eyes. “How
do I look?”
“You look great,” Yata said before Keimaro could
answer and pushed himself off of the bed with a grunt. “All right, you two, let’s
get this over with! We have a lot that we are going to have to teach her before
the day is over if she’s going to survive within these walls.”
The two of them spent the long morning
showing Aika around the village—the farms, the marketing area, the social area,
and the living area. Many of the inhabitants of Bakaara actually lived on their
own farms, providing their family with enough food to survive the year as well
as maybe sell some off at the market for a profit. But those who worked at
places like schools or blacksmiths were assigned to a living quarters that were
something like apartments. Those who made a good living were sometimes able to
afford a house set away from the rest.
The social area was the part of the village
that held the schools and areas for teenagers and kids to mingle. There were
parks and such for people to walk around and feel free, as if they weren’t
trapped inside of a ward. The social area was also where a small palace was
located, containing all of the elders and every soldier who actually was
trained to fight. This meant that there was practically no one else in the
village that could fight. If there were an attack, the villagers would probably
all be massacred, but the soldiers had been relocated to the palace to protect
the elders at all costs. Any other threats to the village would be handled by
officials, who enforced the law but weren’t trained in combat.
In the market, many people sold different
products, none of them very exotic. It was difficult to sell something new because
only certain materials were available in the small area of Bakaara. There was a
large open area where people would set up their portable tents and shops to
sell items. It was probably the loudest area in the entire town because
everyone was trying to yell over one another in a rivalry to win customers.
Surrounding the entire area was a large amount of buildings such as the general
store or blacksmith that were rather essential in meeting people’s daily
requirements. Keimaro knew that Yata worked at the blacksmith as an apprentice,
which was why he was tough and knew how to fight, unlike the other people in
the village.
“Wow,” Aika said in awe at the large
amounts of people that were walking in the marketing section. “There’s a lot of
stuff to see here!” she exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands together with a
smile. “Oh my, this is all so exciting! Why would you want to leave a place
like this? It’s so lively, and there are so many people!”
Keimaro scratched the back of his neck with
a light sigh, watching as Aika got overexcited at the tiniest of things. “It’s
not that exciting,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets and playing
with the jingling copper coins found deep in his pants. “You’ve never been to a
market before?”
Aika shook her head, and Keimaro blinked,
surprised. “I always had people who shopped for me. I was never allowed to go
and buy anything at the market. I was never allowed out of the castle, as I
told you before! I never knew that the markets were so crowded! Why are there
so many people here? Do they all want to buy things?”
Keimaro shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Recently,
we’ve had a shortage in terms of supplies. This area can recycle only so many
resources before we eventually run out. But, because of these wards, we aren’t
allowed to go outside and get the resources out there. People are buying a lot
of supplies before winter comes because the crops will be sparse. So, people
stock up in surplus so that they can survive during the winter, which is
probably the hardest time to survive around here. I suppose you never know who’s
going to starve each year when we go through the dark season. I’m assuming that
there is another secret way to get out of the ward that only certain people
know about. Otherwise, when you think about it, we don’t have enough extra food
to sustain everyone through the winter. The elders are probably getting some
resources from the outside.”
“You think so?” Yata muttered, bumping
Keimaro gently. “Wait, don’t talk about that kind of stuff out here in the open.
Keep silent about it.”
“So, how was this place found? And how does
this huge force field stay up all the time?” Aika asked curiously. “I mean, why
stay self-sufficient and isolated from everyone else? Doesn’t really make sense
to me.”
Yata winced at the question. “Hey…
.”
Keimaro touched Yata’s shoulder, silencing
him and proceeded to answer the question. “Well, I’m not exactly sure why we’re
self-sufficient. I suppose that it’s been this way for so long and that
everyone’s gotten used to it. No one really wants to change. As for how this
force field holds up, I heard that the elders cast it over the village in order
to protect the civilians from the monsters that began to terrorize the people,”
he said. “Other than that, I don’t really know much. They don’t tell us how the
force field was put up because they think someone might try to take it down.
The elders of the village, the ones who founded this place, are really
secretive about a lot of things.”
“Oi, Kei!” a familiar voice called out in
the open.
A shiver ran down Keimaro’s spine, and he
gulped.
No, not now. This guy … he couldn’t be here at this moment!
This
was a terrible time, especially since he would probably ask questions about Aika.
Keimaro glanced back to see Buu standing
there with several of his cronies. Their hair was slicked back, and they were
wearing black coats; of course it was only the finest material in the village. A
sliver of Buu’s curly hair came down over his blue eyes, and he had a wide, wicked
smile on his face, a reprehensible sign.
Keimaro should’ve known what was coming. He
sighed as he turned to face the bully before he was quickly kneed in the
stomach without warning, a complete reenactment of the previous day. He gasped,
doubling over onto the ground. The wind was driven straight from his lungs, and
his vision slightly blurred into a flash of white.
“You thought you could just get away with
punching me yesterday, huh?” A second foot came downward and drove hard into
Keimaro’s back, forcing him harder onto the ground. He winced as his face hit
the dirt. He grunted, still gasping for air, helpless as a child fighting a
tiger. “Die, you filthy piece of—”
“What was that?” Yata asked rhetorically,
and the boys were suddenly quiet. The entire market, actually, was now in complete
silence. Public displays of violence were rare within the village, but no one
seemed to be willing to step forward and help Keimaro. Yata ran his hands
through his hair as he began to step forward, each step making a light crunch
from his boots. He grasped his hand and cracked his knuckles, letting out a
loud pop in the silence. “Back off! Otherwise, I’ll smash all of your faces in.
None of you will be able to see tomorrow. I’ll make sure of that,” Yata warned,
giving Buu a deadly glare.
Keimaro winced in pain and was kicked backward
onto his back, only to find Aika kneeling at his side, pulling him close. “Are
you okay?” Her words went through one ear and left the other because Keimaro
was too busy watching Yata encounter the bullies before him.
Yata was off being strong and fighting for
Keimaro. He didn’t have to. The mere sight made Keimaro feel weak and
powerless, as if he were nothing but an ant in a quarrel between colossal
titans. He felt small and invisible.
“Was that a threat?” Buu snapped, his
friends immediately advancing on their new opponent. But Yata didn’t seem to
care. His fists shot out in a single motion and slammed hard into the noses of
both of the boys as he stepped forward. His arms rocketed forward with
incredible speed and cracked into their faces with solid blows. Blood burst
from their faces as they yelped, flying backward. The two boys landed hard on
their backs at the same time. Dust drifted around their writhing bodies, and
they grabbed their faces in pure agony as they released screams of anguish into
the air.
Yata moved forward and brought his foot
downward on each of their faces mercilessly, snapping their noses and knocking
them unconscious. People gasped as they watched, shocked that Yata was
performing such a violent and beastly act. Yet, Keimaro could see the anger in
Yata’s eyes, the hatred, the darkness. The boy seemed calm, but he was fighting
with emotion.
Yata brushed the hair out of his eyes and
glanced at Buu with an apathetic look on his face. “Some bodyguards you got
there,” he said sarcastically as he poked at one of the bodies with his foot. “I
suggest you man up and face me yourself. Or you can turn away and run. If you
ever mess with Kei again, I will personally break all of your limbs.”
Buu stared at Yata in shock and then
glanced at his unconscious friends who lay at the beast’s feet. “Y-You’re
insane!” he yelped and turned, running away in the opposite direction. He broke
through a line in the crowd before he vanished from sight.
Only moments after the boy had fled, the
crowd began to separate as two guards made their way forward, armed with iron
swords. Metal helmets were clamped upon their heads, making them look like
tin-men. Beneath their daily clothes, they wore weak chainmail armor. Such an
outfit wasn’t particularly professional when representing the government, but
Bakaara couldn’t afford to spend more on equipment, especially since law
enforcement wasn’t typically an issue in the village. It was rare that
people would actually decide to break the law. The only people who broke the
laws were the bullies who picked on Keimaro, but the guards always looked the
other way in that case.
Yata raised an eyebrow at the men and
rolled his eyes. “Come to arrest me, have you?” He scoffed and held out his
hands as if he were already accepting his fate.
Keimaro had caught his breath and nodded
thanks to Aika when he slowly pushed himself to his feet. He threw himself
between the guards and Yata with his arms outstretched in an attempt to form a
wall between them. “Wait, don’t arrest him! He was just helping me! Those boys
were bullying me and—”
The guards pushed past Keimaro as if he
were nobody and shoved him to the ground unintentionally. They didn’t even
bother to glance at him, splayed out on the floor. They kicked Yata to the
ground and began to barrage the young boy with a wave of heavy blows, which
thumped loudly against his flesh. “One night in prison.”
Keimaro stared in disbelief at the guards.
They had completely disregarded him as if he were invisible. He slowly pushed
himself to his feet, his eyes glaring at the backs of the guards. Why did they
knock him aside as if he were just … dirt? He watched as one of the guards
picked up the unconscious Yata and slung the boy over his shoulder. The guards took
one glance in Keimaro’s direction and then began to walk away.
Was he going to let them take Yata away?
His first friend? Why should Yata be punished for saving him? “Oi!” Keimaro
yelled, grabbing a rock off of the ground. He hurled it at one of the guards, hitting
the man in the back of the head.
The metal helmet that the man wore
protected him, and he glanced at Keimaro over his shoulder, his eyes wide as if
he were looking at some type of foreign monster. “Don’t do that again.
Otherwise, I will gut you, kid.”
Overwhelming fear shivered through Keimaro’s
body, leaving him standing there in utter silence. The words of the soldier
seemed confident and filled with unreasonable distaste. The guard clearly
wanted an excuse to kill him, yet they had never even met. Keimaro bit his
bottom lip, wanting to let his frustration out on something. He felt Aika tug
lightly on his sleeve.
He glanced over his shoulder at her,
relaxing his body and giving her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. Yata’s going
to be all right.” Keimaro knew that he couldn’t confront the guards with Aika
here. She was still too suspicious.