Monochild

Tribe

Khaza stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had a huge, menacing stature with two red, bulky arms and legs. Thick grey claws extended from each of his rough, calloused hands and feet. His imposing head bore a face with multiple scars and stab wounds, paired with two large dilated eyes that were enough to make even the bravest soldier flinch. His wide mouth was lined with sharp saber-like teeth that could probably chew a boulder into dust. His body was covered in old but dense grey armor, paired with two giant metal boots that made a loud CLANG every time he took a step. To top it off, his thick, shaggy black hair ran down his head like a horse’s mane.

Khaza was truly something from a nightmare, but what else could he do? After all, he was the chief of the Rakt, a tribe where combat and bloodshed were absolute necessities. Any tribe member who defied the order of the Rakt would be cast out with the title of “the weak.” To be the leader of such a barbaric tribe, one had to possess the strength to lift mountains and bear the looks of a monster.

Truthfully, however, Khaza was not barbaric at heart. In fact, he loathed his position. He found no meaning or purpose in “slaughtering for glory” or “flourishing in the blood of your foes.” Khaza saw no glory or happiness in these atrocities. Only mindless bloodshed and false joy. So why would someone like Khaza endure such a horrible lifestyle?

It all came down to one old promise he had made years ago. The previous tribe chief had been Khaza’s late brother, Rushir. Strong, fierce, and legendary, Rushir was a true warrior. Yet even legends eventually succumb to the clutches of age. In his final moments, Rushir had quite literally forced a promise upon Khaza: to continue the legacy. If Khaza were ever to step down, he would not only be ridiculed but would also betray his brother’s memory. He was without a family of his own since he had refused to take a partner for fear she might discover his secret and reveal it, so Khaza had no one else to lean on.

After a long time staring into the mirror, Khaza decided to go to his safe haven. The one place that still kept his sanity intact. His secret garden. A lush, green place hidden away, full of life.

As he left, he told his guards he was going alone for combat practice and hunting. The excuse worked every time. Khaza trod far away, far enough that the clanking of his heavy boots wouldn’t be heard. After climbing over a few hills, he finally found it: a huge, verdant area full of greenery and life.

Suddenly, all his stress disappeared. He felt calm. His heartbeat slowed. The water was pure and crystal clear, unlike the disgusting red blood he usually saw. While most heard simple chirping, Khaza heard a beautiful melody from the birds, rhythmically singing and roosting. Plants and flowers and more flora decorated the area with color and splendor. It was perfect.

Khaza sat there for a few moments, wondering. Why can’t I stay like this forever? The thought of eternal peace was pleasant, but he knew he had responsibilities.

As he made the trek back to his tribe, he continued to fantasize about a world where bloodshed was nonexistent, where everyone could simply be happy with what they had. Those imaginations ended abruptly when he heard battle cries. His nose caught the scent of blood. Not prey, but his fellow tribesmen! Something was very wrong.

Khaza dashed through the gates, searching for the source of the chaos. After leaping across walls and huts, he came upon a huge, enraged beast tearing everything apart. It appeared to be a giant bat-like creature with large talons and imposing wings. Its face bore two beady black eyes and a terrifying mouth that produced ear-splitting screeches.

As chief, it was Khaza’s duty to guide his tribe and ensure its safety. No more relaxing! It was time to act. His sharp gaze scanned the environment, fast and precise. If he fought the bat here, it would tear apart the surroundings and harm the vulnerable. He had to lure this furry hazard away.

Khaza raised his hand, signaling his mercenaries. His voice was low but commanding. “Lead it as far away from here as possible! Do not attack until you have successfully led it away from our land! Go forth!”

Instantly, the loyal mercenaries began distracting and taunting the bat, successfully leading it away from the tribe. “Hey, rodent!” one mercenary shouted. “Come and see if you can get us, you flying rat!”

Angered, the bat produced a deafening screech and flew after them. Despite its fast movements and aggressive flying patterns, Khaza and his troops managed to stay ahead. Eventually, they led it far enough from the tribe to fight.

The mercenaries easily overpowered the beast. Khaza struck a fatal blow to its head, killing it with his bare hands. Finally, the fight was over.

Returning home, Khaza felt pleased with himself. Even though it came at the cost of killing a creature, he had saved his tribe. Maybe he could keep his promise to Rushir. Perhaps, he truly was worthy of his position as chief!

Nonetheless, Khaza still felt empty inside. No matter how much time he spent in the garden, no matter how many lives he saved, it never justified the barbaric nature of his tribe. He looked outside and heard loud guffaws and laughter nearby, directed at yet another innocent critter about to be roasted alive.

Khaza gazed at a nearby broadsword, sweat dripping from his brow. His endless cycle of t*****e could end instantly with one fatal blow to his heart. He pondered long and hard. Maybe, just maybe, I could end all of this in an instant... That blade is so sharp... I.. I could...

“NO!” he screamed, startling nearby residents. He had a vow. A promise. Without his guidance, the tribe would fall, and the order of Rakt would cease to exist. He had a responsibility: to put his tribe above all else and guide them to eternal glory. He wouldn’t die. He couldn’t die now. He had to press on, no matter what.

He... needed his garden again.

Before anyone could ask, Khaza stood up, thumping with frustration and sadness. Just as he was about to leave, he noticed a strange black blob in the distance, with one eerily white eye. For whatever unexplainable reason, Khaza felt very, very disturbed.