1. Capery Cliff
Ashorra was 7 years old when he saw a ghost for the first time. Or, well, he thought it was a ghost. The black shadow followed his grandfather like a lion ready to pounce on its prey.
No, he hoped it was a ghost. Though he came from a family of elephants, the creature crawling behind grandfather now was just as large and even scarier. If it wasn’t a ghost, then—
“Murderer! Grandfather! Watch out!” he yelled.
Gupra turned around rapidly, his royal robes swirling around him. Then he sighed—deeply. His guards gave Ashorra a frustrated stare.
“Nothing there,” he mumbled. “As always. Can somebody please distract young Ashorra until I’m back from the mission?”
There was something there! Why did nobody else see? Ashorra kept pointing and forgot to blink. The ghost was coming straight for grandfather, attracted as if magnetic.
Nobody will listen to you. They don’t trust you—and rightly so.
The voice in his head never slept. So he learned to fight it. He collected courage to stop the mysterious murderer himself. They’d already taken away his dagger after attacking one of the princesses at the age of six. So bare-pawed it was!
It never came to that, for a guard lifted him with his trunk and took him to the war room. A place the ghost didn’t dare enter for now.
“That’s the last province,” Gupra said with a smile. A golden ring around his front paw tapped an area on the map. “We conquer this and Schola stands united.”
“Except for … the Tamli,” the commander added hesitantly.
Gupra’s face darkened. “And then there’s the Tamli.”
Ashorra stopped struggling. After staying still for long enough, he was placed back on his own feet, after which he immediately ran to the large map on the stone table. Almost all areas in Schola now carried the flag of his family: the Gupramils.
Except the three areas of the Tamli, who unfortunately held nearly a quarter of Schola.
“Why do you look funny when you say the word Tamli?” Ashorra asked innocently. “You always say they’re just the next place to conquer, right?”
Gupra smiled at him. “Well, if you’re looking for ghosts, my dear Ash, then you should see the Tamli.”
“We can’t catch them,” the commander said, a large tiger. “Whatever we try.”
“Those three areas are led by rich, rich traders,” Gupra said. “If we cut off their food supply, they just buy more. If we destroy their weapons, they just buy more.”
“Why don’t we leave them alone?”
“Because they didn’t leave us alone! Not too long ago, a peaceful and beautiful civilization lived here, right around the Indus. Schola was united. Then all those other folk attacked, pillaged, conquered, and destroyed what we had.”
“We must take revenge and restore balance,” the tiger said with disdain. “Any other act would be admitting terrible weakness. Reasonable minds know this.”
The ghost had returned.
Ashorra squeaked again and pointed at the black beast in the doorway. Terrifying. Only eyes for Gupra, but in every other way almost the exact opposite of his grandfather. He was sweet and smiled often; the ghost was grumpy and angry.
“Ghost! Coming to kill you! They—”
They didn’t even look over their shoulder anymore.
You’re crazy. They should’ve exiled you long ago.
Oh, he heard them. Crazy Ash. Seeing ghosts. Ash attacks cows without reason and cannot be trusted with a dagger. But he saw a—oh, it had become multiple ghosts. They entered in droves, almost eager to do their crime, each picking a different individual in the room.
The commander shook his head. “This can’t continue. I know how much you believe in your grandson, Gupra, but you have to cut your losses given … what he’s become.”
Ashorra’s shoulders drooped. What he’d become. He had to prove himself. But how could he, if the world looked different to him than to all the others?
A horn blared through the palace. The signal to leave and capture the final remaining non-Tamli area.
“Oh! Crush them, Gupra! Annihilate them!” Ashorra yelled in an attempt to sound encouraging.
Gupra rooted his bouncing grandson to the spot with his trunk. “Did you never listen? We are not crushing anyone. If I could, Schola would be united without violence. As usual, our plan is to leave everyone—”
“Are you sure it is wise to tell secret plans to your insane grandson?” the tiger commander interrupted.
Gupra easily pushed him aside with his tusks. “Call my grandson insane once more, Mero, and you will—”
The horn blared again. They had to hurry.
“You must learn this,” Gupra said to Ashorra. “The plan isn’t to reduce all villages to ash until we rule the Country of Nothing Left. We go straight to their capital and force the leader to surrender. One step closer to a united Schola. And we need that, if we want to remain strong and peaceful in the remainder of the First Conflict.”
Gupra stormed out of the room. The ghosts were eager to follow him, but apparently not eager to attack yet. By now, every creature, important or not, had one such shadow stuck on their tail.
Mero pushed the “insane grandson” in the paws of another guard, a buffalo.
“Solve … solve this,” his only command sounded, before the tiger ran away to lead his army.
They would have loved to fill their entire army with tigers, but that’s not how those creatures worked. They struggled with hierarchy, having any other being above or below them, so no tiger wanted to be the soldier for a tiger commander. And so the army mostly consisted of buffalos, rhinos, goats, and some lions that the gods could spare.
Ashorra was already too large and unwieldy to be carried by a buffalo. Instead, his paws were bound together and a blindfold fell over his head.
The buffalo pulled him along with a rope.
“What are you doing? Is this a game? Are you going to hide and I have to—”
“Shut your mouth, devil.”
“That’s not my name. Do you know what Gupra was talking about? Why is he not annihilating others? He’s strong enough.”
The buffalo turned a corner. Ashorra’s behind felt a rough path and his face felt a fresh wind from outside.
“You’re too young.”
“I’m already seven!”
“Too young to know how it was before Gupra came. Schola was cut into tens of provinces with small groups. Apparently that civilization around the Indus worked like that, with tiny regions only governing themselves, without leader. But then they mixed with Sumiser, and the Akradi, and they instantly started waging war.”
Ashorra felt disoriented as the ground rotated; they were climbing a steep slope. The buffalo groaned from the effort of pulling an entire young elephant with him.
Silence reigned for a while. For hours and hours they walked, taking only short breaks, until even blindfolded Ashorra knew it had to be midnight by now.
Far below him, waves crashed into the stone beach with loud splashes. Until the buffalo let go of the rope to take a break, giving Ashorra enough freedom to grab his blindfold.
“Each day,” his guard spoke, “thousands were killed by their neighbors. Until Gupra came. He won the wars and conquered all areas to unite them. For if everyone was part of the same group and culture, they’d stop fighting.”
“That’s silly,” Ashorra instantly said. “They say Sumiser had wars between cities. You get peace by killing everyone who is against you, and that’s that, silly guard.”
The buffalo pushed Ashorra forward with a headbutt. “And that … is why I must do this to you.”
Ashorra ripped off his blindfold.
He lay at the edge of a cliff.
Only the buffalo’s feet kept him away from a deadly fall down.
He saw ghosts again. No, one ghost. She loomed behind the buffalo, twice as large, with devilish eyes.
“I am sorry,” the buffalo spoke. “But Schola has to stay united in the future, and that has to be without you as successor.”
His paws moved. Ashorra rolled over the edge.
The ghost acted quickly. She pushed a sharp knife through the buffalo, who gasped for breath and fell forward.
Now all three of them fell down.
The buffalo hit the water below with a sickening splash. Ashorra had the infinite luck that his rope was stuck behind a stone, holding him in the air.
In the distance, he saw Gupra’s army returning to the palace with haste.
The ghost had vanished, as if satisfied after doing her duty.
Ah. So that was how they’d defeat the Tamli kings.
A ghost story for one, dear reader, could turn into a ghost story for all.