Enter the Zoo
The Great Eye watched over the zoo.
Below, the enclosures were still fighting.
The Eye watched for a long time.
Then it called its pet.
"Come . "
The Eye pulsed once.
"From this zoo…
Let us see what remains
The black man woke up. Above him,
the blue sky was still spinning.He pushed himself up, surrounded by
his companions.He no longer recognized his enclosure.
He shook his head, trying to regain his senses. In front of him, he recognized his brother.“Give me your hand!”But his brother did not move. His eyes were fixed on something behind him.
His trembling finger slowly rose.
On the hill opposite them stood unfamiliar figures. Pale, almost ghostlike. Their hair yellow, nearly golden.Other companions pointed toward the east with the same expression of terror.
A wave of panic rose from the three hills. The tall grass rustled, stirred by hurried footsteps and a growing wind.“Who are you? What are you doing in our enclosure?!”
As they began to move toward each other, a voice rose. Above them.
“Greetings.”
The voice echoed throughout the enclosure, soft and clear, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. All of them understood it.
“It is a pleasure to see you all gathered here. Welcome to the main enclosure.”
A shiver ran across the hills. Eyes met confused, uneasy. Some fell to their knees.
“I offer you all this new land, so that you may prosper.”
God had rewarded them with this vast expanse.
A light rose above him.
He felt every gaze turn toward him : blue eyes and dark ones alike. All of them.The voice softened into a whisper in his ears.
You have five days and five nights to keep the peace.At the first like taken,the rule changes.
Each group had spread out, keeping their distance.No one dared approach the water at the center yet.
A woman came to his side. He had seen her before, in the opposite enclosure.
His people were slowly gathering around him.“What should we do? God spoke to you!”The others watched him in silence.“You heard God. We must remain calm.”They waited for his reaction, not daring to come closer.
He walked toward the leaders of the two other groups. A murmur spread through the groups....The tension rose. Some tried to step in, but the leaders raised their hands
You heard God.
We must live together now!”He lowered his weapon toward one of his companions, feigning an attack, then opened his arms.“No kill!”
He pointed at each of his companions, counting them on his fingers.
The leaders looked at one another…
then quickly turned back to their own people to confer.The woman called out to him:
Each group began to count itself, measuring one another. The white ones lined up in rows, each count marked by a sharp cry.The yellow ones gathered in a circle. Each time their leader passed, they lowered their heads.After counting his own, he did the same with the other two tribes, before realizing that within the enclosure,
Twenty-one white beings.
Twenty-one yellow beings.
Twenty-one black beings.
Night fell over the enclosure.Three lights flickered in the darkness, three strong fires that refused to die.On their mound, his people had gathered around one of them.An old man approached him, his smile almost as bright as the flame behind him.
“You mean chief?”“That’s what he said! You’re the one who talks funny with your accent!” she shot back, giggling.He stood, took a breath, and...
projected his voice so strongly it seemed to make the flames tremble.
“I come from Enclosure 7! And you? Which enclosure do you come from, my friends?”A group of young men straightened at once, proud as roosters.“Enclosure 9!! The best enclosure!”
“What are you talking about! They say you eat raw frogs! Enclosure 11, the best enclosure!”Laughter erupted.They bickered about frogs, crocodiles, and who eats what “back there.”
His brother pulled up his usual hood, puffing out his chest proudly before the flames.
“One thing is certain, we, the men of Enclosure 7, are the strongest! Look at me: I’ve never lost a fight in my life.”“It only takes one defeat… and all your victories mean nothing once you’re dead!” another shot back.“Me? Lose?!” he overplayed it with a dramatic gesture.
“Who could beat me? One of those white demons? With their straw hair?”His companions burst out laughing.“Or those yellow demons, with their narrow eyes, perhaps?… No… no… no one can defeat me! I master all the fundamentals of combat!”
“Always judge distance!”He gathered momentum again and leapt over the embers with ease.“And strike at the right moment!”He raised his sword, slicing the air above the fire as if cutting through the flame itself.
“My brother taught me that! Follow him, and we’ll be saved… thank you, chief!”
Filled with pride, he stepped forward toward the flame.
He picked up a handful of sand and let it slip through his fingers above the embers."I dream of standing on the horizon with my new brothers and sisters."A silence fell.
Until the mischievous woman began to applaud, her bright smile echoing through the night.
She shouted her own name, grabbed a handful of sand, and threw it into the fire.
"I dream… of a great feast with my new brothers and sisters!"The group applauded, amused, especially a bald man who shook his head seriously."Yes! With plenty of frog legs!""Ugh! Disgusting!" someone laughed.
One by one, they introduced themselves. A handful of sand, a name, a dream.
The flame danced, faces lit up. In the darkness, the world felt limitless. And with these new companions…The world truly seemed without limits.
The first night was calm, like dark water swallowing the silhouettes of the camp.He walked alone, searching for air, for silence, away from the circle of his clan.Light footsteps followed him."You’re not going to tell me what God told you, I suppose?" she said."I’d like to, but I can’t. He forbade me."
They exchanged a glance, then slipped into the tall grass.Below them, in a clearing lit by the moon, the entire clan of the yellow men had gathered around a lively fire.Children and adults threw handfuls of pale dust into the flames, which burst into golden sparks, green, sometimes blue.
The crackling rose into the sky like tiny comets. Like stars falling in laughter.
"Do you think they’re sorcerers?"A child threw too much at once. A burst of light shot upward, dazzling. The whole clan went "oooh." The child puffed out his chest, proud."Quite small and adorable, your sorcerers," she said.
"I’d like to try."He replied,"We should be careful. It might be dangerous."Two children had been watching them for a while, their eyes shining.
"They want us to try."The children guided them to the edge of the circle.The fire welcomed them with a soft hum.He hesitated, but she seemed ready; she lowered herself slightly.
A burst of sparks erupted, vast, glowing gold.Cries of joy rose around them. She laughed freely, he stood there, mouth open, dazzled.He looked at the fire. The sparks still rose, one by one, like souls released into the sky.
Day had risen. The sun stood high, pale, almost motionless.They had ventured into the forest to gather dry wood.Here, everything felt suspended: the air, the branches, even the dust drifting between the trunks.
"Is that really how you say it in your enclosure?"She nodded, a smile lingering at the corner of her lips. Then she pointed to a gnarled tree a little farther away.
"A tree, simply."She stopped, surprised.He frowned."And you? What do you call it in yours?"She resumed walking, picked up a small branch, then said confidently:
He repeated it softly, as if tasting a foreign word."Ratigwa… it’s a beautiful word. It has something strong and noble about it."She straightened, proud."Strong and noble?"
"Yes, you can feel your closeness to nature, to the very essence of..."
She burst out laughing."I’m joking, cheif. We call it a tree too."Their laughter rose between the trunks, light, almost out of place in the silent forest.She picked up another branch, turned it between her fingers,
"Why do you think God chose you?"The question caught him off guard."I don’t know, but I feel like something is guiding me… like God decides my actions sometimes," he murmured.
"Maybe it’s a Goddess, not necessarily a god! I imagine her with glasses! And or with long, brown hair!"He smiled."No, I’m sure it’s a God with, hmm, glasses, a big laugh, and a round belly from all his feasts with the angels!"They laughed and kept describing, forgetting for a moment that the gods were watching. Up there.
The sound of their steps faded into the dry grass, and the forest felt quieter than it had that morning.Their hunger, however, did not fade. It came in waves, tapping at their temples, draining the strength from their movements.
"Perfect, look, mushrooms! Do you prefer the white ones or the yellow ones?"
"Maybe we’ll find something better than mushrooms today," he said.She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand."Don’t criticize my basket! You’ll be glad to have my soup!"He nodded without answering. Fatigue made words unnecessary. Then sharp chirping broke the stillness.
They moved closer, pushing aside thick branches, until they reached a small clearing.There, on the ground, a dozen birds twisted and pressed against one another, pecking at seeds.Different feathers: white, brown, black, speckled. They could make out an elegant dove among pigeons and crows.
"I don’t know… but I’m hungry," he replied.She stepped back, suddenly tense."There are too many of them… Look at them! They could rush us… they could hit our faces!""They could… if they were clever," he said calmly."Each one will flee toward its own kind. Just aim anywhere."He looked up at the light filtering through the branches.
It lay on the ground, its wings still trembling in their final spasms, abandoned by its kind, already scattered toward the west.They rushed forward to grab it.
Two figures burst out at the same instant from behind a tree.
Two strangers. Pale skin, blond hair.The black man raised his hands as the white man seized the dead dove."Dette var наш fangst!"The black man snapped,
The stranger answered, striking his chest,"Dette var наш fangst! но vi kan dzielić!"The white man raised his sword.
"No, no killing! It’s pointless, let’s leave," said the black man.He grabbed her hands, and together they vanished into the forest, leaving behind the wood and the dove, whose wings fluttered…
Each group had lit its own fire.Three red points in the dark, like the eyes of a beast.The black man and the black woman sat a little apart, halfway between their fire and the edge of the clearing.She had drawn her knees up to her chest, her chin resting on them.
"No, but I forgot my basket… you won’t get to taste my wonderful soup."She finally turned her eyes toward him.
"Mir yfir gardheim! Mir yfir gardheim!"
"It’s scary… it sounds like incantations," she said.She stood up without a word."Where are you going?" he asked.
Ahead of her, the fire of the white group crackled like a raging heart.Shadows moved around it, uninhibited.
A woman danced, completely naked, her body covered in ash.
A man stood facing her, arms raised, his body tense, like an offering.
Fear rushed into her with the scent of ash. She wanted to leave, but she couldn’t.
Long golden hair, a torso marked with scars. He saw her. He smiled. Slowly. And stepped closer.She wanted to step back, to run. But her legs felt heavy, tangled in the tall grass. He kept coming, the firelight reflected in his eyes.
The black man burst forward.He stepped between them, grabbed the woman’s hand,
He opened his eyes, hoping that when he woke, his enclosure would be smaller again, like before.Without the others. The woman with dark eyes was still there, curled up against him, her breathing calm, like an anchor in this dream that had become real.
"What is it?" he asked."A deer, cheif! They say there’s a deer in the enclosure!"Large antlers formed in his mind.A deer somewhere in the enclosure, large enough to feed at least twenty people. Only twenty people…
The three groups stepped forward to confer once again.
But once again, only incomprehensible words left their lips.
"Have you seen the deer? There’s a deer in the enclosure!" said the black man, mimicking antlers.The yellow men stepped forward, tension lingered in his shoulders."Strei duo! Kono shika, khuwaaltsakhgui.""I don’t understand!" said the black man.
"My mozhom loviti za vas morke muzi!! Lat oss pomahat my sme silni!!"The black man frowned slightly, uncertain.Birds burst into flight, as if the world itself were holding its breath.The wind picked up, as if carrying to the gods the echoes of a rising hostility.
Then in the distance, antlers drifted through the mist,
The three groups had scattered once again, like hostile neighbors that fear had tried to bring together, in vain.He stood before two weapons. A bow and darts to strike from afar. A light, agile spear.
He broke into a run, his group close behind.they split up, two by two, scanning the ground, the leaves, the tracks, hoping to spot against the earth the imprint of small hooves that might have passed this way.
Suddenly, he saw something, between the trunks.
She called out to him."What are you doing here?" he said, stunned.
"While searching, I found tracks!" she replied, out of breath.
Without waiting, she pulled him through the bushes. With each step, they moved farther away from the others.And in his mind, a worry took shape: what if the real deer had already been found? What if he missed his chance?"Wait… we’re wasting time"
Right there, beneath him : tracks. Fine, sharp and half-faded. They traced the ground like a riddle drawn by the gods.They exchanged a glanceAnd there, before her, barely fifty yards away…
The man stood still. The slightest movement could scare the beast away.So they whispered, so softly that even the wind fell silent, hanging on the young woman’s lips."We have it... It’s right there..." she said.
She ran off, her long dark hair vanishing into the jungle.He moved forward, careful. Each step brushing the earth. His feet weaving between the leaves.The breeze grazed his left cheek, light and gentle.He readied his bow, closed his eyes... and let God decide where to draw:
All that remained was the mist.
He ran, his legs covered in mud. He ran, his cheeks full of scratches. All the while thinking about the signs of God.Why had he failed...And then he saw it again in the distance, a second chance.He readied his last bow, his last chance.
He walked alone, the deer’s tracks and the bow swallowed by the silent forest.Only he and the crows remained. Alone with his failure, he seemed to see the stag's shadow taunting him through the mist.the cawing of crows grew louder and louder.
The beast lay there. Motionless. Four hundred pounds of meat, and no way to bring it back alone.
He dragged it through the tall grass, his back burning with every step, until he reached the nearest bush.He covered the beast.
He smeared his hands with blood and marked the trees before setting off to find his people.
He moved through the branches, guided by the cawing of crows.Only he and the crows remained. Alone with his success, he seemed to see the stag's ghost taunting him through the mist.The cawing of crows grew louder and louder.
Stretched along a trunk, her arms folded as if to protect herself, her skin so pale.Her clothes torn. Her breathing so faint it was almost nonexistent. He rushed to her."Hey… wake up! What happened?!"She barely managed to open her eyes…
Blood ran from her head down onto the young man’s fingers.Nothing. Only that breath, that fragile whisper of life. She lost consciousness.Something terrible had happened, far from everyone’s eyes.
He scanned the surroundings, but the forest closed its eyes and said nothing.
He gently laid her down on makeshift mats, at the center of the camp.She was pale, her breathing rough, her skin damp. The fire, though close, did not seem to warm her.They gathered in a circle, one by one. The men leaned in, shaken to see their sister unresponsive.
The night stretched on. They kept watch. One held her hand. Another murmured soft chants to soothe her.A mother wiped her forehead. All of them were there. together.He paced...Thinking...Sobbing.The outside world no longer existed. Only shadows moving."Cheif! Cheif!"
They pointed to the young woman, whose lips began to tremble.
"...the… w… whites… the yel… lows…"He rushed to her and took her in his arms."Who did this to you?!"She struggled to speak. He held her. He begged her.
Her mischievous eyes were gone. Her breath, absent.Some turned away. Others wept in silence. They mourned one of their own.
He watched as his friend's body was buried, hoping her soul might rise out of the zoo.
"What should we do?"All eyes turned toward him.He lifted her basket, trying to glimpse through it that playful smile.But only death stared back at him. The black man clenched his fists, then turned toward the other fires in the distance.
A companion stepped forward."Are we going to fight?"The black man looked at the basket one last time."I wish I could tell you what God told me... Follow me."He took a deep breath
"See this flag? If i pull it...it means war."
Before them stood the whites, and their towering fire.Their leader turned, surprised. The black man stepped forward, then raised the basket."Who?"He pointed at several of the white warriors and repeated, louder
"Who?!"
Silence settled, carried by the crackling of the fire…
The black warriors tightened their grip on their weapons.The black man raised his hand."Wait…"The white leader looked at him, slowly reached toward the basket, touched it, took it, studied it for a long moment...
"Neit…"The fire crackled. The whites smirked, ready to return to their lives around the flames
The black man hesitated, exhaled, lifted his eyes to the sky.
He coughed.First signal.The wind brushed against his skinHis men waited.The fires still burned.
The flag unfurled and the world shifted.
The blade slid across the barbarian’s throat.The war had begun, carried by steel and ash !Inspired by the chief, the young warrior pulled his hood back on, ready to claim another victory.
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he chief watched his people fall.Time froze, ash drifted through the air, then came the light, the heat.The flames turning against them all. Cut down by fire or by steel.The barbarians became one with the blaze.
The exhausted warrior ran, He chased him, heavy legs, short breath. The wind carried the scent of death.He ran without looking back, toward the dark forest.But the deeper he ran, the less he could see the figure ahead.
Day had broken, sunlight slipped into his shelter, like divine fingers piercing the darkness of yesterday.That was where he had taken refuge, on the edge of death.He could still see the ash drifting, still feel the steel.He curled in on himself, trembling.
Suddenly, voices echoed above his shelter.
A yellow warrior circled with a thin blade, chasing a white one, not yet fully grown, more fragile, long golden hair.His fingers brushed the hilt of his sword.He slipped quietly out of the shelter, the gentle morning breeze brushing against his fresh wounds.He moved through the brush like a snake.And as he crept forward,
A twig snapped beneath his foot , loud as an explosion.The yellow warrior turned, raising a blade as dark as the night. In his mind, his brother’s death replayed.He raised his own sword, He knew it. The slightest mistake would be fatal !
Carried by his opponent’s momentum,he went down and the yellow warrior charged ready to strike.5 yards...
Throw sand.......................... get up
His heart had never pounded so loudly inside him.He looked around, searching for the young white.Nothing...Only the curious gaze of vultures watching his fallen enemy.
The fight had been so brutal he couldn’t even remember the direction of his shelter.
Questions raced through his mind, matching the rhythm of his breath...Maybe he needed to calm down first. Wait for his hands to stop shaking. For the sky to stop spinning.He closed his eyes for a moment.
Suddenly, a cry rang out behind him.
His opponent lunged , one last attack. One last attempt to take him down.The black man couldn’t move. The tall grass trapped his legs.The blade came down toward him...Too late.
The forest listened to a sound drifting through the wind since that night. A final breath.…The yellow warrior in front of him. His stomach pierced.
and behind him...The boy with golden hair. The one who had just saved his life.
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The black man lay there, gasping. The world around him swayed.Silence hung in the air. Right in front of him, the boy, shaken.Eyes wide open, as if the danger still lingered. He held the dark weapon, but his hands trembled.
In a surge of panic, he threw it to the ground.
The black man rose slowly, still dazed from the shock. He said nothing. His eyes moved from the sword to the boy.An enemy fleeing, unarmed. Younger, frail. He could catch him, end it.A cry swallowed by the endless forest. But before he could even steady himself.
Beyond these trees, he would find his people. But also the others.He dreamed of running, running somewhere far in this vast space. Far from blue eyes, from dark eyes.
He tried to see the sky from here, but the oaks blocked it. So he kept moving.He searched, again and again, without success. And behind him. Sounds...
Only the whisper of the mist. The pattern had been repeating for minutes.He started walking again.
Then he lunged toward the nearest bush, ready to face a boar, or even a ghost.
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"Why are you following me? You know I could gut you right here!"The young man said nothing, but he didn’t look away. Blue eyes, fixed on him with unsettling intensity."You know who killed my friend, don’t you?"...The black man raised his sword, ready to strike.
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His stomach growled at the sight. He hesitated...He grabbed it, his blade still raised."You poisoned it, didn’t you?"His stomach disagreed.
The bite echoed through him. Sweet. Spreading slowly inside.For a moment, time hung still... He came back to himself. The boy was still there, at his mercy.
He could use him. A hostage, if they ran into other whites. He pulled the young man up and pressed the blade against his back."Move ! And don’t try anything."The boy started walking again.…The black man said nothing, leaves rustled around them. The sounds of the enclosure felt distant now.
"Hvordan se ti zove?"He didn’t understand. He kept walking. The blond boy pointed at his own chest."Ieg sam Byork!"The black man sighed."You won’t get my name, if that’s what you’re after."The blond boy watched him, moved closer, slowly...
The black man’s hand twitched, almost ready to draw his blade.The boy, unaware of the tension, compared his skin to the man’s dark one.His eyes widened, filled with pure fascination.He whispered:
He imitated him, awkwardly:"Mork…?"The boy smiled. He nodded eagerly. They repeated it again, together, each in his own accent.They remained there for a moment.
The boy froze. The black man straightened, every sense alert. Hand on the hilt.Footsteps….
The blond boy understood before he did. He stepped back.. Then another..He ran, like a frightened animal."Chief, is that you?!" one of the men shouted.
They rushed after the blond boy. He followed without thinking, He ran. Leapt over rocks. Cut along a slope.
The boy climbed. Fast and agile.He scrambled up a tree, cut his arm on a branch, nearly fell…
But reached a high fork and curled into himself, trembling. His companion tried as well.Helpless or perhaps too heavy, too powerful to imitate the young man."Let him stay up there. He’ll fall eventually. And then we’ll deal with him."
Below, the three men settled down, breathing heavily, then laughing. Glad to find one of their own again.Even if something in their eyes had changed."They really messed you up, chief, huh?" said the younger one."We saw Jomo fall… the whites were hiding… they set a trap for us, like cowards," said the other.
"Tonight, at least one of them falls. I say we burn that barbarian," the younger one added.
His companions kept talking. But he said nothing, He barely ate.Listened with half an ear. His gaze never left the tree.He could barely make out the boy’s curled shape above them. A still mass , clinging to the branches.
The fire was low. His companions were asleep.The boy was still up there, curled in on himself, a faint shape against the night sky as he kept watch.He stepped away for a moment to relieve himself, moving deeper between the trees, his back turned.
The forest watched him.Slowly, he began to make out the bushes and branches in front of him… the clouds above.He returned toward the faint red glow, toward his two sleeping companions on the ground.He looked up at the tree.The boy was gone.
He stood on the ground, a few steps from the fire. Eyes locked on his.The blond turned away and ran.He ran after him. Only the sound of their footsteps through grass, through trunks, through mud.And in the distance, something roared, like a monster.
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The black man stood still, out of breath.He didn’t know what to do. The young man with golden hair turned toward him, his usual confidence gone."Mork…" he whispered.Then footsteps on gravel.
"You were supposed to keep watch, chief!" one of his men said.The black man turned. The two men were there, breathing hard."He came down from the tree, that rat!""We need to get rid of him fast. Tie him up and drown him. What do you say, chief?""Wait !" he said.
His voice was calm, but firm."What is it, chief?"The black man sighed."He could be useful. A hostage, if we run into other whites… or we make him fight for us.""No. We should avenge our own. Avenge our sister from those demons!"
"No, wait. You’re not listening to me," he said."Since when do we let enemies walk away? Are you no longer one of us?"He clenched his fists."He’ll be more useful alive than dead. As a hostage."The first man raised his arm and stepped forward.
The chief caught his wrist. The movement was sharp. The second man lunged. All three clashed.A fight without shouts, but tight and suffocating, tangled in mud, in short breaths and dull blows.The river pounded against the stones, close by…The ground gave way.A foot slipped.A body slipped.Then
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Water filled his lungs. Stones pressed against his back. He woke with a jolt, his stomach twisted, his breath ragged.He coughed, gasped, collapsed again.
Minutes passed, or hours… He couldn’t tell.He crawled toward a trunk and rested his head against the bark.Leaves swayed slowly above him. He pushed himself up, staggered…
And saw him.
Curled up, soaked. shivering...But alive.The white stranger lifted his head sharply, terrified. He stepped back, hesitated.The black man knelt slowly, his hands visible. He searched the surroundings for his companions.
No sign of them.The boy stared at him, his lips trembling.Slowly, he lowered his gaze and whispered something in his own language.He stepped closer, slowly. The other did not move. He seemed drained.The silence between them felt lighter than the words they could not share.
The young man placed a hand on his own chest, then pointed toward the horizon.The black man lifted his eyes. The sky was clear, endless. He was certain now...His brothers were gone.He lifted his head and saw the young man with pale skin, sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, breathing slowly as if drawing in all the air of the forest.He watched him for a long moment.
Without a word, he closed his eyes as well, and breathed in, deeply.For a moment, the world grew quiet.When he opened his eyes again, he stood up. The white man watched him."It seems there are only the two of us left," the black man said.He gave a slight nod, turned his head..."Let’s find a way out of this forest."
They had been walking for a long time now, alone. Without crossing a single soul in the forest.The sky was no longer blue. It had taken on an orange hue, almost dirty, a sign of what was coming to an end.In places, gray stretched across it like a reproach. A displeased sky, ready for a final judgment.The last night.
He glanced at his blade...Still cold. They walked through the thorns, their hearts empty.Then he saw.. Resting against a trunk.
"Look… a skull."He rushed forward.He hesitated for a moment.Picked it up.
"I hope it’s not one of mine."He swallowed, trying to imagine who this unknown person had been.He placed the skull beside the blond boy, set it gently on the ground, then covered it with dry yellow grass."One of yours?" he asked, pointing at him mockingly.
The boy frowned and shook his head."Neit!"The young man turned in place, then let his gaze fall on his bag, torn and barely holding together.
The blond boy stripped the bag, pulling at it until the cotton spilled out.He emptied it over the skull, then pointed at it."Neit! You!"They both grabbed the skull at the same time and pulled."If it’s one of mine, I have to bury him!""Neit!"They pulled… And pulled.Until
They both fell, softened by the grass.And they laughed...As if they had been holding it in for centuries. A suspended moment. Two fools lost in the middle of the forest.Every laugh from the blond boy pulled one from the black man.If anyone had seen them, they would have been easy targets.But they didn’t care. They laughed.
The sky roared with every step, lightning already tearing through the falling dusk.Their strides turned into a sprint. Silence broke into shouts and hurried orders.A blinding light burst along his left side.
And behind them, they felt it, the weight about to crash down. The heat was closing in."Move!"They ran without stopping, leaving the burning tree behind them.The sky kept roaring above, in the distance, a flicker of light.A fire and silhouettes.
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They couldn’t hear voices yet, but the shadows danced.They dropped to the ground, hiding behind a still-smoking bush.The black man slowly parted the branches, just enough to see.At the top of the hill, eight figures, maybe, gathered around a fire.
Some held what looked like bottles. Dark hair, olive skin...He whispered:"The yellow men… they’ve won."His companion looked at him, terrified."If they see us, we’re dead."
Across the open plain, now finally visible again, there was no sign of his people. Nor of the whites.Only them ahead and the suffocating fire behind.His gaze flicked between the flames.The tribe drinking…
Their barrels !Something struck him. He grabbed his last arrow and pointed toward the embers.The blond watched, and understood."Eld pil!"He sprang forward, excited, repeating it"Yes! Eld pil! Eld pil!"The black man moved closer to the burning tree.
The tip of the arrow caught fire instantly. The fire behind them was closing in fast.Through the heat, he could see the barrels.…He drew the bow.
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Fire spread in an instant, devouring the grass, licking skin, tents, bodies.Screams tore through the air, sharp, lost beneath the storm raging above.
They ran, legs shaking, breath short.Free.For the first time in days, their feet touched the tall grass of the enclosure again. The plain. The real one. The one they had lost.Behind them, ashes rose. The entire enclosure seemed to tremble. Lightning ripped through the sky, swallowing the screams.They stopped...Screaming figures emerged.
One by one, black blades cut them down through the flames.The black man and the white boy stood side by side watching their last enemies fade to the rhythm of the crackling fire.The black man exhaled..."We’re probably…"
The Oasis lay in darkness.Five minutes before the first light.Five minutes before God’s return.The young black man planted his feet into the ground and drew his blade.His friend hesitated… then understood. He did the same. They bowed, one to the other...Their blades rose !
The first clash rang through the enclosure.A pure, metallic sound. Like a tolling bell.They froze for a second, blades locked, eyes fixed on each other.The strength of a man overcame that of a boy becoming one.The boy was thrown back, swallowed by the smoke.
His body slid behind the flames !He vanished.The black man charged. He cut through the fire…Struck !
Nothing.A shadow to the left.He attacked !
Empty..."You… you’re hiding?! So it’s true… what they said about your kind?"But already, the shadow returned. The blond boy burst from the right.Steel met again !
The clash was shorter this time. The boy staggered, folding under the pressure.He held on but each step drove him back.Until a shoulder strike sent him crashing to the ground.
He hit the dirt, cheek pressed into the dust.The black man stood over him.He raised his weapon."One last strike…"He lunged."Farewell… my friend."
But the blond rolled aside, a sweep.The black man lost his balance.His sword slipped from his fingers and vanished into the fire.He hit the ground hard, breath gone.His only weapon melting, devoured by the flames.
The white man took a moment to rise. He could hardly believe what had just happened...That he had won.He stepped closer, blade in hand. Now he stood above him.The black man closed his eyes. He saw the woman with the playful smile.Ready to join her. He exhaled, a faint smile on his lips."Thank you… for the company."
The boy had thrown his sword away. As if it were too heavy to carry.It spun once through the air, then struck the ground between them, trembling.Silence returned. Only the fire crackled in the distance.
The black man stood there, still breathing hard, his face stained with blood, ash… and doubt.His eyes fixed on the weapon at his feet.He didn’t understand, the sun was about to rise. Across from him, the boy began to smile."Idemo… Kapat, Mork?"
The black man stared at the blade, anger rising in him."What are you doing, you idiot?!"The young man only shrugged, pointed toward the water.Slowly, almost reluctantly, the black man knelt and took the sword.He held it for a long moment. A shiver passed through the enclosure.
The boy looked up at him. He didn’t beg, didn’t run. He simply looked at him.The man felt his heart pound. In his hand, the weapon burned hotter than the fire.The sun was about to rise.
3...
2...
....
The first rays of light shimmered against his blood-stained blade.And the voice returned.
His blade remained suspended. His eyes did not leave his fallen friend.The question burned on his lips. He tried to hold it back…It came anyway."Why?"…"Why put us through this?"
He raised the blade even higher."I only followed your command! I was supposed to protect my own!"He swallowed, the blade trembled, the blond boy’s body lay before him.The black man whispered:"Forgive me…"
Beside his friend, the unknown skull had slipped from the bag.…
The wind was rising now, at his feet, the skull rolled in the dust.A man… or a woman, dead in this senseless war.He picked it up, then raised it toward the sky, as if offering it to God himself."They all died… for your amusement."
The words struck him like a blade.“Only one species was supposed to remain!”His voice broke."I had no choice…"
The wind moved across the oasis, the world seemed to hold its breath…
The voice spoke, for the last time.
You were always one
The voice faded into the wind.The black man dropped to his knees...Alone,…
Alive.
You did what most would have done.
The first rays of light shimmered against his trembling blade.And the voice returned.
His blade remained suspended. His eyes locked onto his friend’s.The question burned on his lips. He tried to hold it back… It came anyway...."Why?"…"Why put us through this?"
Fear had turned into anger. Every muscle in his body was tense. The blond boy on the ground did not move."You wanted to watch us tear each other apart…"A breath moved through the air.
He raised the blade higher."I only followed your command! I was supposed to protect my own!"...
He swallowed, the blade trembled...The blond boy closed his eyes. The black man whispered:"Forgive me…"The blade came down !
Then faltered, a jolt.The boy rolled away, the unknown skull slipped from the bag.For a suspended instant, the blade stopped.
It was thrown into the tall grass."I refuse!"The wind was rising now. At his feet, the skull rolled in the dust. A man… or a woman, dead in this senseless war.He picked it up. Raised it toward the sky, as if offering it to God himself."They all died… for your amusement."
The words struck him like a blade.“Only one species was supposed to remain!”His voice broke."I had no choice…"
The wind moved across the oasis, the world seemed to hold its breath.
The voice spoke, for the last time.
You were always one.
The voice faded into the wind.The two men dropped to their knees.Together,…
Alive.
You did what most would have done.
the flag was thrown into the flames...
Years passed.They ran along the clearing, but he could no longer keep up with their pace."Children, not so fast!"One turned back, laughing."Come on, Grandpa !"Another protested immediately:"It’s Chief !"
He rolled his eyes, a smile on his lips. They arrived at the great cemetery of the enclosure.Fine stones for the yellows.Helmets for the whites.Granite for the blacks.The wind moved through the symbols without distinction.In the distance, the white tribe approached.The chief raised his hand.
Always late, Goldie!"The old man replied, his voice dragging with a thick accent:"We not last, Cinder-night!"The children weaved between the graves.The mothers called them back with firm gestures. He watched the aligned graves for a moment.He narrowed his eyes toward the horizon.
The yellows approached in turn, carrying their fire powders and sacks of grain.Goldie muttered:"They’re going to tell us the prices went up again."Old chief gave a faint smile."Lyn just negotiates better than you."
The three groups met at the center. As every year, they gathered on this day.They exchanged.Negotiated.Remembered.He stood for a moment before his friend’s grave.
He froze, then exhaled."It’s thanks to you… thank you for sparing us."His old heart began to race.The words burned on his lips.He tried to hold them back.They came anyway.
"Forgive me."He hesitated.His chest tightened."I failed… only one species was supposed to remain…"The wind fell.The voice replied:
"Look."
He raised his eyes.Lyn was arguing over sacks of grain with Goldie.Children ran through the tall grass.…
...
He died
The voice faded into the wind.He got up and joined the others.All together,…
Alive.
you did what few would have done.
The first of the L-ian Tragedies
3...
2...
...
He raised it.