The next morning, around seven, Mother came into the room and said there was no fish or meat left at home. "Go to the market quickly and bring some," she said. My brother was already at work, so Father and I went together. The early-morning market felt entirely different from usual—mist spread everywhere, shops half-open and half-asleep.
The vegetable market was already lively, while in the fish section water splashed continuously and buckets of crabs rattled as they moved. At the tea stalls, steam rose from chipped cups, while spice shops were barely open and hardware and clothing stores remained shuttered. Standing beside Father, I inspected the hilsa fish—their eyes gleamed, tails still firm and fresh. We bought one large hilsa and two native chickens.
As we passed by a small hotel, I noticed Uncle Neil, a few elderly men, and some young villagers sitting at a tea stall, watching a match on a box television. They sipped tea and argued loudly about which player was better. We joined them briefly, exchanging a few familiar remarks.
The morning was still calm—ordinary, predictable, safe.
But as we entered the village, the scene abruptly changed. There was an unusual crowd. Some people sat clutching their heads, others wailed uncontrollably, while a few shouted curses into the air. The entire area felt overheated, suffocating. My chest began to pound. Moving forward, I saw women clinging to one another, crying, while men stood frozen with lowered heads, stunned and helpless.
Suddenly, Zara stood in front of me. Her eyes were red, her breathing heavy, her voice trembling.
"They… the military… they've come again."
I froze where I stood.
She continued, "They were asking who killed their commander that day. No one said anything. So they took all the young men from the village… Leo too."
For a moment, every sound disappeared. It felt as though the air around me had turned heavy, crushing.
Everyone turned to look at me.
Headmaster Henry stepped forward and said, "Someone from the village must have informed them. Otherwise, how would they know it was someone from here? There are other villages—North Greenery is made up of eight villages. But since they couldn't identify Riven, they took the young men instead."
Women rushed toward me, crying uncontrollably.
"Son, bring our boys back. There's no one else but you."
Mother ran forward and grabbed my hand. Her eyes were soaked with tears, her entire body shaking.
"Don't go, my son… they aren't human… they're beasts."
Father held her back, yet his own hands were trembling.
I took a deep breath.
I knew—if I didn't go now,
this village would never forgive me,
and I would never forgive myself.
They handed over their sons to the military because of me.
So I swear—I will bring my brothers back.
Carrying my mother's cries, the village's faith,
and the strange, burning strength gathering in my chest,
I began to move forward.
This felt like the second step onto a battlefield—
whether I would return or not, no one knew.
And at that exact moment—
Tring… Tring… Tring…