Afterward, the current leader of the Band of the Fox recruited Dastan into their ranks and began to train him as a warrior.
Dastan, with no one to care for him and nowhere else to turn, reluctantly accepted this path.
***
1518
Dastan knelt before a man named Foster.
"Foster, today is a special occasion, as you're aware. May I request permission to visit my village and celebrate the day of its founding?"
"Of course, just make sure to hic - bring me some hic - alcohol."
"Yes, sir."
Dastan left the clearly intoxicated man to his own devices.
***
As the sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the village square, the people of the village gathered to commemorate the founding of their home. Colorful banners swayed gently in the breeze, and the delectable aroma of food filled the air. Laughter and joy radiated from the heart of the community as villagers danced and shared stories of their ancestors who had carved a life from the wilderness.
Children ran through the square, their faces illuminated with smiles, and elders took respite in the shade. Amidst the festivities, Dastan stood at the square's edge, his face marked by a mix of concern and determination. While the village celebrated, his thoughts were consumed by deeper matters.
A man approached Dastan with a drink in hand.
"Come on, Dastan, it's a day for celebration."
"NO!" Dastan's voice resounded as he climbed onto a nearby table.
The crowd turned to look, their expressions shifting from joy to curiosity. Dastan took a step forward, his gaze unwavering, and continued, "Do you really believe it's time for celebration?"
A hush fell over the square, and puzzled glances were exchanged among the villagers. It was as if a shadow had suddenly descended upon their festivities.
"NO, IT IS NOT! Today, we stand at the crossroads of our destiny. We find ourselves confronting an evil that has taken root in our beloved home for far too long, an evil that seeks to exploit our resources, our labor, and our dignity. I stand before you not as a leader, but as one of you, a humble member of this community who has witnessed the suffering and the injustice we endure."
"For too long, we have lived in fear, trading our precious minerals and even our very souls with lowlife mercenaries who claim to offer protection in exchange for our silence. This is not protection, my brothers and sisters, it is oppression. This is not the life we were meant to live, bound by chains of fear and addiction."
The villagers began to question their life choices, dreams shattered, bonds severed, and families torn apart, all because of a grip of drugs.
"But today, my friends, I call upon the strength residing within each of us, the same strength that has sustained us through generations of hardship. It's time to awaken that dormant spirit, to rise above our fears, and to reclaim what is rightfully ours."
"The minerals beneath our feet are not just rocks, they are the foundation of our home, the source of our livelihoods, and the legacy we leave for our children. We cannot allow them to be stolen from us any longer. And we cannot let our village remain hostage to drugs that have torn apart families and shattered dreams."
"Recall the tales of our forefathers who confronted insurmountable challenges, carving this village out of the untamed wilderness. They did not quail in the face of adversity, they stood as one, unified by a common purpose and a shared vision of a brighter tomorrow."
"Today, we have the chance to become the heroes of our own saga. It is time to muster our courage, our resolve, and our unity. We will confront the tyrant who preys on our vulnerabilities, AND WE WILL EXPEL THEM FROM OUR VILLAGE!"
The impassioned words of the speech lingered in the air, reverberating through the hearts and souls of the villagers. The square, where the assembly had gathered, buzzed with whispers of determination and a renewed sense of purpose. Faces that had once been veiled by fear now shone with a glint of hope.
Once the cheers and applause waned, the villagers started forming small clusters, discussing the path forward. One elderly woman, her visage etched with wisdom and tenacity, approached the speaker who had delivered the rousing address.
With a warm, proud smile, she extended her hand and stated, "Young one, your words have kindled a fire within us. We've longed for a leader, and today, you've become that beacon of hope. We're prepared to follow you, to fight for our village's freedom."
Dastan's eyes welled up with tears as he firmly shook the elderly woman's hand. "Thank you for your faith." he responded, his voice filled with gratitude.
In the distance, a group of resolute villagers began to organize, discussing strategies for confronting the oppressive group that had dominated their lives for too long. Another group congregated to share information about the resources at their disposal and how they could sustain themselves during the challenging times ahead.
The spirit of unity and defiance hung in the air, and it was evident that the village had been roused from its slumber of fear and submission. The road ahead would be arduous, with no guarantees of success, but they were willing to confront the evil that had plagued their village head-on.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the resolute villagers, they understood that their struggle had only just begun. With the inspiring words of the speech still echoing in their hearts, they were poised to script a new chapter in their village's history, one characterized by bravery, solidarity, and ultimate emancipation.
***
"Uh... So," Guto began.
"Yes?"
"Aren't you going to tell me what happened next?"
"Perhaps another time."
"WHAT? No, you can't do this to me. It was just getting interesting."