Chapter One

Elsa peered out from her little doorway, the blinding light of the midday sun beat down upon the village. She watched Vaas heave his sister over his shoulder and stagger a few paces. Time was passing so quickly, she thought, three years in what felt like a heartbeat had gone by. Vaas was getting to the awkward stage in any child's youth were they felt that everything they did had to be 'more grown up'. She had heard so many tales from her mother and her mother's friends after she had grown and of course, she had once been a youngster herself. Vaas and Citra were wonderful, well-behaved children, she reassured herself, their awkward stages would surely be nothing more than one or two difficult moments. Elsa's attention was drawn to another group of children making their way over to her little ones. With a small shake of her head to remind herself that her little ones could not stay that way forever, she disappeared into her shack, leaving her children to enjoy the last remnants of being so young.

"Citra!" a sweet voice called out to her, Citra turned, her bright blue eyes lit up at the sight of her friend's approach,

"Chanah," she beamed, leaning over to her brother and yanking his wrist towards her, "Look, look what I made my brother!" Vaas tried his best to appear nonchalant as the other little girl of about Citra's age cautiously peered at the little bracelet made of weakly woven grass.

"Oh, make me one and I can make you one," Chanah turned to her little sister who toddled along loyally behind her, "Come on, Mika." She heaved the little one up into her arms and followed Citra over the the shade. The three other children made their way over to Vaas, forming a circle with him as they slumped heavily into the well trodden dirt. Tane, the oldest of the group with the age of 13, gently slapped Vass' arm with the back of his hand,

"Anything to keep the women happy," he joked, leaning back and raising his head up high. Vaas narrowed his eyebrows slightly at the older boy. He was always like that, showing off how much bigger and stronger he was than the rest of them. A small stab of jealously gnawed at him as he gave Tane a half shrug.

"It's what men are supposed to do," he muttered, his eyes being drawn to his sister and her friends playing a few feet away.

"Ah, you'll be a warrior someday."

"Or not," another boy teased,

"Paau, that is not fair," the last of the trio, Anaru, scolded him, "Vaas can't help it if he's scared of-"

"I'm not scared of anything," Vaas snapped. He hated the other boys when they did this. Just because he wasn't as big as them or because he had no stories of bravery to tell like they did. Tane let out a sarcastic laugh,

"Prove it," he leaned in close, "We're going to sneak into town tonight. Do you think you can manage it?"

"You're joking," Vaas scoffed theatrically, "I could do that in my sleep." Paau and Anaru chuckled to themselves, "What?"

"Have you ever been?" Vaas' brow knitted as he studied the boy's faces curiously,

"Nah, don't tell him, he will be too scared to go."

"Tell me, I don't care what's there." Tane took in a sharp breath through his teeth,

"I don't know if you could handle it..." Vaas' lips pulled into a snarl, he punched the earth in front of him,

"Tell me!" There was a moment of silence as the three boys glanced at each other before Tane finally leaned forward, lowering his voice into a whisper,

"It's full of demons... Full of the crazy men..." Vaas looked up into Tane's eyes, searching for a sign he was lying.

"The crazy men?" he repeated, cursing himself for the worry that had started to form in the pit of his stomach. His father along with his friend's fathers had spoken of them so many times before. The crazy foreigners who had come to the island to destroy it. When he and Citra were younger, their father had described them as demons wearing the skin of men that would pour into the thick trees and hang and gut any warrior that they could.

"See? I told you!" Tane nudged Paau, "I told you he'd be too scared." Vaas shoved Tane, feeling the anger bubbling up within him.

"I want to go now." The boys paused for a moment, taking in Vaas' words, "Or are you too scared to come with me?"

"Now?" Vaas risked a glance at his little sister who seemed to be in a world of her own with her two friends.

"Fine," he rose to his feet and dusted off the seat of his trousers, "I'll go alone." Tane and his friends watched for a moment as he stormed off, heading towards the edge of the clearing.

"Brother!" Citra's cry met his ears, making him visibly wince. "Brother were are you going?" little Citra caught up to her brother, her eyes stared up at him tinted with a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

"I'm going to town."

"No," Citra stated, "Mama and papa will be angry if you go," she wrapped her arms around him, making the young boy uncomfortable.

"Citra," Vaas warned, feeling the eyes of his friends on him,

"What if you get hurt?" she looked around cautiously, "... What happens if someone catches you crying?"

"Citra, shut up. I do not—" he snapped before feeling a violent swell of guilt wash over him, "Listen, I have to go, okay?" her blue eyes focused on Tane and the other two boys,

"Do not listen to them, they are stupid and I don't like them very much."

"They are my friends, Citra," Vaas shook his head and peered back at the boys, "You wouldn't understand." He watched curiously as Citra took his hand into hers,

"Brother, you will be big and strong one day, even more stronger than papa," he pulled his hand away and let it hang at his side, visibly weighing up his choices.

"Okay, Citra, I won't go to town today."

"Good," she smiled sweetly and turned, making her way back to Chanah and Mika. Vaas watched as the three girls resumed playing together in the shade. I'll go tonight, he thought.

The orange flicker of the large bonfire in the middle of the clearing drenched the small village and all its inhabitants in its warm glow. Throughout dinner that evening, Vaas remained silent; only opening his mouth to speak when asked a question. His nerves were seeming to get the better of him as the minutes trickled by.

"Is there something wrong, my son?" Hunapo's voice felt as if it could make him fall to pieces,

"No papa I'm just very tired." he lied, not daring to meet his father's eyes. If he had looked up, he would have seen him shoot his mother a curious glance. The silence grated on him as he prayed for something to break it,

"Little Citra, what did you do today?" Vaas looked over at his sister, his eyes pleading with her to keep his secret,

"I made bracelets with Chanah and Mika and then I told them stories." Hunapo beamed with pride as his daughter answered him, not noticing Vaas' thankful stare. "Everyone thinks my stories are the best."

"I am glad to hear it," he smiled, "One day Citra, you will tell the fables and be the guide to all of our proud people, to inspire and protect them."

"I'll tell the best stories to them," she smiled triumphantly to herself. Hunapo's unblinking eyes turned to his son,

"And you," he risked a short glance at his father, worried that he might see through his veneer and know exactly why he was behaving so subdued, "When you prove yourself worthy to the Rakyat, you will fight for us," he nodded at Citra, "for your sister."

"Yes papa," he paused, racking his brain to try and come up with an answer that could win his father's approval just as Citra's always seemed to. "I will fight for us and be the strongest." Hunapo observed him for a moment, mulling over the little one's words.

"Yes. You will need to be the strongest of us," the hint of doubt in his father's words made the little boy's heart sink. Elsa watched in silence, wishing for the strength to come to her son's rescue and praying his father would relent. "You need to work harder, Vaas," he almost spat his name, "By the time I was your age, I was already one of the fiercest warriors the Rakyat had ever seen."

"... I am trying hard, papa."

"Hm," Hunapo stopped and looked his son up and down, "You need to train your body and your soul, my son."

"Are you going to teach us how to be warriors, papa?" Citra piped up, fidgeting in her seat with excitement. Her father's gaze remained firmly fixed on Vaas as he thought,

"Of course. You, little Citra," he smiled warmly at her, "will be taught soon. But you, my son." his gaze returned, "I will turn you into a man." Vaas nodded slowly, his father's words cutting him deep. He would show him, he thought, he would show him how brave and strong he could be.

The sun hadn't been down for long and Vaas saw his opportunity. With the utmost of care, Vaas swung his legs over his bed and paused, making sure Citra was asleep before he continued. He took in a deep breath and held it in as he rose to his feet and carefully made his way over to the little window of their room. The cold night air nipped at his flesh as he broke out into the clearing. Vaas lay on his stomach and scanned the area for any sign of a passer-by. When he was sure he would be unnoticed, he crept away quietly into the darkness.

Vaas bolted through the damp leaves of the thick jungle, his mind racing with worries that he would get mauled by a great and terrible monster using the gloom to stalk him, or even worse, have his father find out what he had done. The boy staggered to a halt, resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. A hand shot out of the inky black, landing heavily on his shoulder making him cry out in fear, prompting another hand to slam down over his mouth. His eyelids fluttered as he tried desperately to see who had grabbed him.

"Can you believe this?!" Tane's voice mocked him. Vaas struggled and broke free of the larger boy's grasp, turning to give him a sour glare,

"You surprised me..." Vaas muttered, not knowing anything else to say,

"If you were a true warrior, you would have heard us." He could do nothing but stare furiously at Tane and plead for a higher power to grant him the strength to punch his head off his shoulders.

"Doesn't matter, come on," Anaru whispered, "town is this way."

They had been walking through the mass of trees for what had felt like an eternity. Sweat beaded from Vaas' forehead as he plodded along behind the three boys. Eventually, the sound of chattering and other noises bled into their perceptions. As the minutes dragged by the sounds grew louder and the trees density thinned out. Vaas' stomach knotted as the lights of the town became brighter and brighter. His hazel eyes widened in awe. He'd never seen such a large collection of buildings. A long dirt road split through the town, connecting at least thirty various sized shacks at either side of it. A lot of the old buildings were plastered with signs and wares. Without warning, Tane turned to him, giving him his usual stuck up sneer,

"Go on then," he gestured to the town, "We will wait here."

"... Why?" was all he could manage to say, Paau rolled his eyes,

"You want to prove yourself to be a real man?" Vaas narrowed his eyes, "Go and take something from them." Tane's eyes searched the wooden buildings curiously, tracing over the few merchant stalls until his eyes rested on a small table with a selection of animal skins and a few blades.

"Take one of those knives," Tane pointed, pulling Vaas under his arm. Sensing his reservations, Paau piped up,

"We've all done it," he stated very matter-of-factly, "But if it's too hard..."

"No," Vaas shoved Tane away and made sure to stand tall, "I can do that." And with just a moment's pause to mentally prepare himself he strode out of the trees towards the town, desperately trying to ignore the titters of his friends behind him.

Vaas' eyes traced the edges of the buildings as he wandered sheepishly into the lights of the town. His mind was full of panic as he tried to appear calm and collected, knowing full well the boys were watching him like hawks. He couldn't help but notice that the earth beneath his bare feet was hard and compacted, not unlike his little village. As he made his way towards the skin salesman, his attention was brought to an old and battered box propped up on the corner of one of the tiny wooden verandas. With a quick glance behind him to make sure he was out of line of sight of his friends, he cautiously made his way closer to it. His eyes widened as he got closer to the glass screen, the voice of men bubbling out of the dented speakers. His mind recalled memories of his mother telling him about the outside world, the things that seemingly everyone in the world but the Rakyat possessed. Vaas stood there, his eyes fixated on the flickering black and white image of a large man kicking in a door and opening fire on a room full of seated men. In that moment his soul was captivated. There plastered over the dusty glass was a warrior, a warrior not halted by injury or obstacles. There was a hero. As the man opened his mouth to speak, Vaas' eyes narrowed, not understanding a word of what was said. The young boy frowned, his enjoyment somewhat ruined by his lack of understanding.

"Do you like it?" a voice snapped him from his trance. He turned quickly in the direction of the voice to see a young girl maybe a year younger than he was. Her face lit up with a warm smile, she clasped her hands behind her back and waited for a reply.

"I, uh," he turned to look at the screen once more, "Yes, but I can't understand what they're saying."

"Oh this one," she murmured, leaning closer to the strange box, "This one is about a guy that goes to fight a bunch of people who are trying to take over the world by mind control. It's called 'Furia Heroica'. My dad gets a lot of Spanish movies come in." Spanish movies, he thought, mama would know about that. "I'm Kayla," she smiled, extending her hand for him to shake.

"I am Vaas..."

"I help my dad out here sometimes," she boasted, "He's not good at being a salesman."

"Are there many more Spanish movies?" he said, not taking his eyes of the screen.

"Oh yeah," she laughed and gestured to a dusty crate full of tapes, "Dad has a truck load of them." Vaas said nothing and nodded. "Where did you come from? I haven't seen you here before." he paused, tearing his attention away from the box and uttering the Rakyat word for 'home'. "Is it far from here?"

"A little but, uh," he looked past her towards the stall of animal skins. "It's far enough to walk." Kayla turned, peering out into the night,

"You walked all the way here? By yourself?" he merely nodded in response, his eyes being drawn to the faint glimmer of the blades not thirty yards from him. "Wow, that's brave." Vaas turned his attention to her,

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I'd be too scared of all the animals biting my head off!" Vaas, despite himself, couldn't help but smile.

"... I suppose," he muttered, feeling a swell of pride bubbling up within him.

"Kayla," a man's voice seemed to make her jump,

"It was nice meeting you," she smiled politely and waved good bye to the young boy. With one last look at the screen and a deep breath, Vaas decided it was time to stop putting off his task. The stabbing of worry in his stomach became more and more intense as he grew closer. His eyes bored into the man leaning back in his chair behind the table. He breathed a sigh of relief; the man appeared to be dosing off. His feet silently pushed him towards his destination. With a quick glance to make sure no-one was looking, he reached out cautiously, his heart pounded in his chest as his finger tips brushed the cool metal of the stout blade. As quickly as he could, he snatched it from the table surface and turned on his heels to run. His body shook as he tore through the town with the blade clutched tightly in his fist. If he'd had the courage to look behind him he would have seen that nothing had changed. Vaas' body ached as he stumbled to a halt under the cover of darkness. He gasped for breath and waited for the shouts to begin—yet none came. Tane snatched the skinning knife from his hands and uttered a hushed laugh,

"Well, you did take it."

"Not very graceful of you to run like that." Vaas opted to remain silent for fear of inciting another few scathing comments.

"Come on, let's sneak back before anyone notices we have gone." With one last longing look at the town behind him he pressed forwards following his friends back home.

The next morning, much to Vaas' surprise, the sun rose just as any other day. He had lain awake fretting about the repercussions of his excursion, coupled with the awed feeling he had gotten from watching the 'Spanish movie'. His adolescent mind had studied it with such fervour, such admiration—it was nearly all he could think about. Not long after Citra had awoken, they had gone to greet their parents and wished their father luck on his hunting trip. Vaas watched as Citra ran to her mother whose arms were outstretched ready for her.

"Go and play with Vaas," she said warmly, kissing the top of her daughter's head. He smiled as his sister bounded over to him and gestured to the shade,

"Go and play with Chanah and Mika, I need to talk to mama."

"Are you ill, brother?" Citra's voice was riddled with worry, "You do not look well. You might be sick."

"I think I should ask mama if I'm ill." She nodded in agreement and trundled over to her friends, leaving Vaas alone in front of their home.

Elsa pottered about the small living room, sweeping dust and dirt up in her hands and leaning out the window to release it.

"Mama?" her son's voice ventured,

"What is it, my little one?" Her voice was always so soothing with her children, the joy that their presence gave her was all too evident within it. Behind her, she heard Vaas shuffling about nervously. With a small knot beginning to form in her gut she turned, "Is everything all right, Vaas?" He clutched one of his arms, visibly made uncomfortable by her question.

"Mama, I want to ask you something..." Elsa's brow knitted in confusion and worry,

"Of course, little one." Vaas turned, risking a quick look over his shoulder and made his way over to his mother's side.

"You are Spanish, aren't you, mama?" Elsa stopped and nervously began nibbling at the inside of her lip,

"... I was, Vaas. Now I am Rakyat like you."

"You know how to speak Spanish, right mama?"

"Of course, but-" she shook her head trying to think of what he might be getting at, "Vaas, why do you ask?"

"I want to know what..." he stared upwards, as if scanning his mind for the right words, "'Furi a Heroic' means." The pang of worry in her abdomen swelled as she tried to piece together what he was saying,

"Furia Heroica?" she corrected, feeling eerily removed from the conversation, "... Where did you learn that? Where did you hear those words?" Vaas' silence made her nerves stand on end,

"If I tell you, you can't get angry at me, mama."

"Vaas, please."

"... I went to the town last night."

"Vaas," Elsa breathed out, feeling dizzy with uneasiness, "Do you have any idea how much of a bad idea that was?"

"I know, mama," he urged, "Please do not be angry with me," her long pause made him squirm under her gaze, "I'm sorry I went. You can't tell papa."

"No, I will not, as long as you're honest with me, Vaas, who taught you those words?"

"A girl, called Kayla. Her and her papa have a bunch of Spanish movies and I saw one of them. But I couldn't understand any of it, but it looks wonderful. There was a big strong warrior in it and..." his voice trailed off. Elsa focused on the girl's name for a moment before shaking her head wearily, "I wanted," he paused, unsure of how to progress, "I just want to know what they're saying. Can you help me, mama?" It was Elsa's turn to check her surroundings.

"I don't think I will be of any use, little one. It has been a long time since I have spoken it..." she half-lied, hoping he would lose interest.

"Mama, please, I want to see more Spanish movies." Elsa began chewing fiercely at her lip, her mind recalling memories still very painful to her. The first time she had spoken Spanish to her children, Hunapo had been beside himself with rage.

"Vaas, I am not sure-"

"Mama," he begged, "Please tell me how to speak it." Elsa looked away, out of the corner of her eye she could see her son staring up at her. After a long pause, she let out a defeated sigh, she couldn't say no to her son. Her nerves flared as images flashed through her mind of Hunapo finding out about her son's secret lessons. With all her heart, she hoped her husband wouldn't find out.

"Vaas," she started, her voice low, "I will teach you..." His hazel eyes lit up with hope,

"Really?" he followed her lead, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Only on one condition, my darling."

"Of course, mama, anything."

"Your father can never know."