2. The Scared Paraat

The punishment for stealing was twenty lashes of the whip. That was, however, only if you were caught. Something that happened easily when there were only ten places to steal from, according to the Challenge rules. Even more easily when it rained, sharp thorns were strewn in the mud, and you’d barely slept due to endless training.

But taking part in the Challenge wasn’t a choice. It was one of the mandatory lessons every Paraat son had to learn. Whether you gave up—and were tossed into the icy, stormy sea as punishment—that was a choice.

And not one Leion wanted to make. Even as his muscles trembled with fatigue and he saw danger in every shadow.

He’d chosen his victim. The Honeybadger family with yellow fur, unlike the black kind all other Paraats had. Yellow fur used to be common, but the Blacktrail Explosion had reached even their habitat, sparing only their backs.

Their home of mud and twigs stood at the border. If things went wrong, at least he had ample space to flee. Two crooked square windows in the back seemed unguarded, but that was, obviously, a trap. Just like the family’s father sometimes opened the front door to step outside, leaving it wide open. Not even a baby would fall for that, he thought.

But how else could he enter? He wasn’t strong enough to dig a tunnel or smash the roof. Some classmates had befriended everyone in town and uncovered the secret ways to steal something. A good soldier can do three things best of all, his teacher said daily. Fight, steal, and talk.

His classmates had surely finished the challenge long ago. He had to steal something before nightfall or get banished from Paraat. He’d seen it happen often enough. A kick in the behind, a lecture about what a failure they were, and the poor badger was left to the wolves.

The sunlight steadily dimmed.

He crawled around the house once more, hidden in the bushes. Every entrance was guarded. His prize lay right in the middle of the room: a chain with a Darusstone. In some of the mud huts, torches were already lit against the darkness, a new invention by the apes.

I see only one way out, he thought. He already felt the whip lashes on his back. He didn’t want to, but he had to.

His claws dug deep into the mud and pushed off. He ran at the open front door, in full view. The honey badgers saw him right away. They tried to close the door, but he was too quick. Once inside, he grabbed the chain with one paw while using the other to scramble up the window.

As he rolled through the opening, the family’s intimidating father already stood on the other side. He grabbed Leion, claws cutting deep into his fur.

Leion, however, had kept the chain between them at all times. He could let go and fall to the ground, holding onto the Darusstone, while the yellow honey badger remained behind, bewildered, with only two broken halves of a chain.

“Hey! I caught you!”

Leion sprinted away. The father made a valiant effort but lost the race before it began, stopping when he stepped on a thorn.

He didn’t dare look back. He ran and ran, prize clamped between his teeth, until he was far outside Paraat territory and heard unfamiliar voices. Voices out of breath, almost panicked.

“It’s pointless. Her throne is no longer there.”

“Where is it then?”

“She’d let us know. Maybe she’s still searching?”

Various shades of yellow, orange and red flashed by in his peripheral vision. He felt as if eyes watched him from behind. I should go back. I passed the challenge, right? he thought, but his nose kept pointing the other way.

“If Feria no longer dwells in the Tree of Life, who does?”

The question went unanswered, because Leion crashed at full speed into two gods. They stumbled several steps before regaining their balance. Meanwhile, he flew with his back into a tree trunk.

“Sorry! We’re in a hurry.” Leion scrambled upright and looked into two kind giraffe eyes. “Do you know the fastest way to Paraat?”

Leion thought it was a trick question—maybe still part of the Challenge. “But … this path leads straight to your Throne’s backdoor. We even call it Backdoor Trail.”

“How do you know of that back entrance?” The bird looked far less friendly.

“We built that path together with Bella.”

“He’s just a child, we should—oh dear, did we really do that?”

She tapped her snout on the many wounds and scars on Leion’s back and paws, like rivers winding around him. At the lightest touch, a nasty gash on his shoulder split open again.

“No, I did that myself. Pretty good, huh?”

Eeris looked troubled. She bent her neck down before Leion, but he turned away. “I can walk by myself.”

They raced back to Paraat. At the gate lay Tikidas, Leion’s teacher. His eyes narrowed at his approach, while all his proud students formed a half-moon behind him.

Leion held out the Darusstone. “I succeeded,” he said, voice trembling.

“You’re a worthless thief. You got caught.” Tikidas pressed his forehead hard against Leion’s. “You know the laws. The Paraat touched by an enemy soldier, might as well lay down his arms. And of course: One never shows their true face upon first contact with enemies, to allow backing out if the situation goes sour.”

Tikidas let go of the pressure and sighed. “You’re fortunate, however, to be a small, fast dwarf. I’ll count it a pass, because a soldier must always make optimal use of his talents. But you need to learn disguises, to coax secrets from others, to sneak so stealthily that no one notices you.”

Leion breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes teacher, I’ll practice right away.”

“No. You explain why you brought the gods here.”

“Oh no,” Eeris stepped forward, “we ran into him.”

“Bella has been abducted.” Cosmo spoke solemnly. “Which of you goes by Leion?”

The entire town sighed. Everyone pointed at Leion, alone in the center, while Tikidas stormed off as if he were poisonous.

“You last visited our sister,” said Eeris. “What did you discuss? Did she seem in danger? Did she seem afraid?”

“You went to the gods in secret?” Tikidas sounded more surprised than anything.

“I … erm … it’s like this … I wanted to ask … if maybe I could … live somewhere else?”

Now the entire town cursed at Leion.

“Feel free to leave then,” Tikidas spat, “we’ve no use for you here. If you return, a hundred lashings await! A thousand!”

Eeris protectively stood before Leion. “You obviously didn’t do it,” she said. “But does anyone know anything that could help?”

“Abduction?” said Tikidas, plucking at his black whiskers. “Then they didn’t come here.”

“How do you know? You don’t even have a wall around your city.”

“We don’t need one. Every one of us is a soldier one hundred times better than any other soldier. We stand at your side and will help if desired. No Paraat would ever allow something so scandalous.”

The gods looked around. The area exhibited a faded blot of muddy huts and exhausted, wounded children from all the training. If that’s not convincing evidence of our discipline and might, thought Leion, I don’t know what is.

“There are … reports from the West,” he began.

“Scaremongering,” grumbled Tikidas.

“Entire groups of animals fleeing this way, from some danger.”

Cosmo and Eeris exchanged glances. “It’s the first clue that’s reached us.”

“Then we go West.”

They thanked the Paraat, but declined their offer of help. Leion wanted to come along, flee the daily beatings and challenges, but also knew he could never return if he did.