"Ha! Ha! Ha!" Loud cries echoed through a lush garden designed in an elegant, oriental style.
In this garden, no ordinary people could be seen, but rather a species resembling chimpanzees—though far closer to hairy humans than to monkeys.
One of them wore a white jiu-jitsu-like kimono with a black belt tied around his waist, while the other sported a gray kimono with a white belt.
"Faster!" the black-belted one shouted to the white-belted youngling.
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" The younger one intensified his punches. By appearance, he seemed between 10 and 12 years old.
"That's enough for today, young prince," the elder declared.
Panting heavily, the so-called young prince collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion.
"Master, how did I do?" he asked, struggling to catch his breath.
"Very well," the master replied. "I'm certain that one day you'll rival General Aurelio."
"Really? I've heard General Aurelio is the greatest fighter who ever lived!" the prince exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.
"Hahaha, indeed. But even General Aurelio never bested His Majesty," the master replied.
"Really? I can't believe it. My father doesn't even have one arm! How could he defeat the general?"
"You might not see it now," the master said, "but about thirty years ago, your father led us when we were still called a tribe, not a kingdom. Back then, I hadn't even been born. My grandfather used to live in trees, and only my father grew up during the era when His Majesty brought us down from the trees and taught us how to build homes."
"I've learned that much from my teachers," the prince said, recalling the stories. "They told me how my father led us out of the trees, through lands, lakes, forests, deserts, all the way to the sea, where we founded Sali, the first city.
"After that, we grew stronger, fought against great cities, and defeated or conquered them. That's when my father declared himself king and our land a kingdom."
"Exactly," the master confirmed. "When my father was young, His Majesty battled a great enemy—Scar. He was said to be the greatest Homo Pitecus who ever lived. His red fur, immense strength, and intelligence matched His Majesty's. If it weren't for His Majesty, Scar would have ruled, and from what I've heard, he was someone who killed for pleasure."
"Uhmm," the prince mused. "Still, I find it hard to believe my father could defeat Uncle... I mean, General Aurelio."
"Hahaha! It's normal for someone who hasn't seen His Majesty in battle to doubt," the master replied. "Even I only saw him in the final years of his campaigns. By then, he was more a commander than a warrior. Well, that's enough for today's lesson."
"Thank you, Master," the prince said, bowing respectfully.
Just then, a woman dressed as a maid approached. "Young prince, His Majesty summons you."
"My father is calling for me? I'm on my way," the prince replied.
Leaving the garden, the prince entered a European-style castle. Walking down a corridor, he stopped in front of a door guarded by two soldiers clad in samurai-inspired armor—a fusion of styles.
"Young Prince, His Majesty awaits," one of the soldiers announced.
"I'm ready," the prince nodded.
The door opened, and the prince stepped inside.
The room was surprisingly simple for a king. Apart from a large bed, a few dressers, and a full-length mirror, it contained little else. There was no gold or precious stones—only furniture crafted from dark wood.
"Oh, you're here, Caesar," an aged voice called out.
"Hello, Your Majesty," the prince said, bowing deeply.
"Forget the formalities. I didn't adopt you to address me as 'Your Majesty,' but as your father," Alex, now an elderly man confined to his bed, replied.
"Yes, Father," Caesar corrected himself.
"Come closer," Alex beckoned.
As Caesar approached, he could see his father's frail form more clearly. Gray hair framed his face, his body was thin, and the absence of his right arm was starkly evident.
"Caesar," Alex began, "you are still young. I adopted you because I saw your potential to succeed me. Trust the elders—they've lived far more than you. But always keep your own mind."
"Father, why are you saying this? You still have so much to teach me," Caesar said, holding Alex's only hand tightly.
"Hahaha," Alex chuckled. "I wish I could, but I feel my time is drawing near. I've lived longer than any of my generation. My mother, my sisters, my friends—they're all gone. Even young Aurelio is now an old man with grandchildren of his own."
"Only you would call the general 'young,' Father," Caesar said with a faint smile.
"To me, all of you are just a bunch of kids," Alex replied, his voice warm. "Let me tell you something—your name, like mine, was inspired by great leaders. I know you'll be a great leader even without me."
"Father, don't say that," Caesar pleaded.
"Calm yourself. I don't think I'll leave today or tomorrow," Alex reassured him. "But I prefer to say this while I still can. Now, tell me—how were your lessons? Did you give it your all?"
"Yes! My master said I did well and have great potential," Caesar said excitedly.
"Hahaha, excellent. Tell me more," Alex encouraged.
And so, Alex and his adopted son talked for hours.
Two weeks later, Alex was found lifeless in his bed. He had passed peacefully in his sleep, with a joyful smile forever etched on his face.