As the new day rose, the 6th Chief, Bebak, woke up in his new home—a humble but meaningful structure he had built with his village. The walls held the quiet hum of their labor, a symbol of their strength and unity. Bebak had always been driven by the thought that tomorrow would be the day—the day he would finally meet with the other nine chiefs. But for now, he was content. The day was quiet, without meetings or human concerns; it was just him, his horse, and the land.
After a refreshing bath, Bebak decided to take a ride, a brief escape from the duties of leadership. As he rode through the vast forests, past rivers and lakes, and over gentle hills, he felt at peace. The simplicity of nature was a reminder of what truly mattered. His horse trotted beside him, drinking from the clear, cool waters of the lake. Bebak dismounted, cupping the water in his hands, when a sudden snap of a branch broke the stillness.
Turning quickly, Bebak's eyes widened in surprise. Standing at the edge of the lake was a figure—a homo sapiens, but different. The creature was upright, standing on two legs, clothed, and calm. He wasn't an animal, but a human—yet something about him seemed strange, even alien.
"Sorry, sir, to startle you," the figure said, his voice smooth and polite. "I was about to go fishing."
Bebak stood frozen for a moment, his mind racing. Could this be a distant relative of his people? He asked, cautiously, "You are... human, right?"
The stranger smiled gently. "Of course. I am human, guided and taught by Sir Noah, the first human."
Bebak's heart raced with excitement. "Noah?" he murmured, almost to himself.
The stranger nodded, his expression shifting slightly. "A name—yes, a word that holds great meaning for us." He looked at Bebak with a touch of curiosity. "You've heard of him?"
Bebak, for a moment, didn't know how to respond. His instincts told him this was no ordinary encounter. "Oh, that's clever," he said finally, the recognition dawning on him. "As expected of my blood brother."
As Bebak mounted his horse, ready to depart, he turned to the stranger one last time. "What is your name?"
"Oliver," the man replied.
"Nice to meet you, Oliver," Bebak said warmly. "Please, give my regards to Noah. Tell him his blood brother remembers him."
The human—Oliver—looked taken aback, but nodded. "I will, sir. I will."
As Bebak rode back to his village, a new sense of purpose filled him. The world was bigger than he had imagined, and his connection to it ran deeper than he had ever realized.
Oliver returned to his king, his mind still racing with the encounter. "My king," he said, bowing respectfully. "I met someone—a new kind of human. He knew of you. He said to send his regards to Noah. He called you his 'blood brother.'"
The king, a gruff and imposing figure, frowned deeply. "A blood brother? That's absurd. Who dares to make such a claim?" He stared at Oliver coldly. "Is he a threat?"
Oliver hesitated, but shook his head. "No, my king. He seemed... peaceful. But he spoke with such certainty. He knew of you, of Noah."
The king dismissed the matter with a wave. "Enough of this nonsense. It's probably some wild fantasy. Do your duty, Oliver."
As Oliver left the throne room, the king muttered under his breath, "my brother I am thankful of what you taught me but I have improved it I tamed those mindless trashes and made them into humans. If I wasn't there they would still be in 4 legs and running mindlessly I made them into human beings I am their god their creator the absolute truth."
Bebak arrived back in his village with the thrilling news of his encounter. He gathered the villagers, eager to share what he had learned. "Do you remember my blood brother?" he asked. They nodded, each of them recalling stories passed down through generations. "Today, we have learned something new. We are not just 'the people of the woods.' We are humans with names, identities. We have a history, a connection to something greater."
The villagers were moved by the idea. Together, they began creating names for themselves—new identities that would mark their place in the world.
Grydir (ᚷᚱᚤᛞᛁᚱ)
Keldithas (ᚴᛖᛚᛞᛁᛏᚺᚨᛋ)
Zylqinor (ᛉᚤᛚᛩᛁᚾᛟᚱ)
Nalri (ᚾᚨᛚᚱᛁ)
Kathdora (ᚴᚨᛏᚺᛞᛟᚱᚨ)
Naernip (ᚾᚨᛖᚱᚾᛁᛈ)
Cuen Wabunen (ᚲᚢᛖᚾ ᚹᚨᛒᚢᚾᛖᚾ) — Chief's Girlfriend
Ranzak Harak (ᚱᚨᚾᛉᚨᚴ ᚺᚨᚱᚨᚴ) — Engineer
Bebak Algai (ᛒᛖᛒᚨᚴ ᚨᛚᚷᚨᛁ) — Chief
The creation of a new language and naming system filled the village with a sense of unity and excitement. They felt like they were no longer just surviving, but evolving. Bebak knew that this was the first step in something greater. But that night, as he fell asleep, a dream haunted him.
In the dream, Bebak stood before a towering figure—his father, a mighty druid who had passed long ago. "I am proud of you, my son," his father said. "Now, you must unlock the true druid within you. The restraints are gone. We druids have always had this power—it's within you, waiting to be awakened."
Bebak awoke in a cold sweat, heart pounding. The dream had shaken him to his core. What did it mean? Unlock the true druid? What power did he have buried within him? And why did his father call it a restraint? Was there something they had all been missing?
Disturbed, Bebak went straight to Ranzak, the village engineer, who had often assisted him in his leadership tasks. "Ranzak, I had a dream," Bebak explained, his voice strained with confusion. "My father spoke to me. He said I must unlock the true druid within me. What could that mean?"
Ranzak's face turned pale, his brow furrowing in deep thought. "I've heard whispers among the druids, chief. There's talk of an ancient energy—one that we used to wield freely, but over time, we lost access to it. As we age, it seems to fade. But the energy was once ours to command."
Bebak's heart quickened. "But why? Why would this power be sealed? And how can I unlock it?"
"I don't know yet," Ranzak replied, "but I do know that the materials we've used to build your home have had a strange effect on you. You've been healthier, more energetic than anyone else. There's something in the construction, something rare, that could be connected to this power."
Bebak's mind raced. Could the key to unlocking the druid's power lie within the materials they had used to build his house? The stone, the liquid dirt, the rare tree—all of it had been harvested carefully. What if the tree was the answer?
As they began investigating, they found that the rare tree's seeds had unusual properties—it had grown from an ancient source, tied to the origins of life itself. But there was a problem: whenever the tree touched the soil, it rotted immediately.
"What is this?" Bebak muttered, frustrated. "Why does it rot? What is keeping this power from awakening?"
Ranzak's eyes lit up. "It's not just the tree—it's the soil, the environment. Something is blocking the energy. But perhaps we can find a way to awaken it indirectly."
The two spent days researching, experimenting, testing. Their hope was that if they couldn't directly tap into this power, they could at least find a way to channel it.
But time was running out. Bebak had to attend the yearly council of druids, where he would share what he had discovered—except the true secret of his power remained locked inside him.