After leaving the tent, the sky was already dark.

  "I need to be fast and organize everything before morning," Kha'Ruun said while he walked with haste toward his tent.

  Suddenly, a voice came from behind.

  "Kha'Ruun, wait a moment. I need to talk with you about something important." It was Saghor, who had followed him.

  "I know my decision seemed rushed, or bad in your eyes, but I have a reason why I made it, and it was necessary," said Saghor.

  Kha'Ruun sighed, gazing at Saghor with complicated emotions.

  "Don't worry about it. I understand your decision very well."

  The man known by all as Saghor, the Sage of the Wasteland, was filled with an atmosphere of defeat. He looked older — his hair had turned grayer, nearly white. The burden of the situation was taking a devastating toll on him.

  "Thank you, Kha'Ruun. You don't know how much what you said means to me right now."

  Saghor looked up at the sky. One of the Twin Moons stood tall, beautiful as ever, ethereal and majestic.

  "You know, among all the hunters in our settlement, you are the most experienced one. I have something important that I must give you," said Saghor. He took a beast scroll from a small sack he carried with him. "Take this scroll with you. When the time is right, you will know — then open it immediately." Saghor looked at Kha'Ruun with a mysterious gaze, as if he could see something in him.

  Saghor was a mysterious man. No one knew where he came from. The only thing known about him was that he came from a lineage of powerful shamans. Many didn't believe his story, but some believed after seeing how he managed the settlement.

  "What's this? You know very well I can't read." Kha'Ruun was bewildered. Saghor was acting strangely, and in this current situation, they couldn't waste time. It was also the first time he had given him something like this — and it was a scroll.

  "Don't worry. Someone in your household can read — I'm sure you know who I'm speaking about," Saghor replied with a mysterious tone.

  Kha'Ruun was surprised that Saghor knew Saheera could read. It was a secret they kept from everyone. Had one of his children spilled the secret?

  "I don't understand what you are saying." Kha'Ruun didn't accept it; he feigned ignorance. Many powerful people would spare no effort to get a valuable slave who knew how to read and write.

  Saghor looked up at the sky, and the moonlight shone on his face, when Kha'Ruun saw something strange.

  "Saghor! Your eyes are glowing!" exclaimed Kha'Ruun. Saghor's eyes gave off an ethereal glow, altering his whole aura.

  "Kha'Ruun, I paid a great price every time I looked at your fate, and this time was even worse — cough, cough, cough." Saghor coughed up blood, his eyes bleeding at the same time. "But it was worth it, so don't worry about me, because a great future awaits you. Now go. There is nothing more I can give you."

  "You! What have you done? Your eyes are bleeding." Kha'Ruun extended his hands, trying to support Saghor, who had lost his balance. "Let me take you to your tent and find a doctor."

  "Kha'Ruun, didn't you hear what I said? Don't worry about me. Time is short — you must go and prepare for your departure with the others. You are now the leader of thousands." Saghor's words struck Kha'Ruun. He remembered they were still in a dire situation, and Saghor had trusted him with thousands of lives. He needed to calm down — but how could he leave Saghor like this?

  "Kha'Ruun Oru! Listen to me now — go, go, go. Don't worry about me." Saghor's tone grew heavier.

  "I... I understand. I will go right away." He stopped supporting Saghor and turned. "Saghor, the Sage of the Wasteland — I, Kha'Ruun Oru, will not disappoint your trust in me. I hope we will meet again, because I understand this must be a goodbye." Leaving those words behind, Kha'Ruun walked away.

  "Thank you, Kha'Ruun. I trust you, and farewell. I still have something I must do for all of you," Saghor replied with a murmur, a low voice as if he was speaking to himself.

  Looking at Kha'Ruun fading into the distance, he saw the illusion of a great serpent — no, there were two of them. They looked majestic. He smiled and left for his tent. An attendant was waiting for him at the entrance.

  Kha'Ruun was nearing his tent. "I need to talk with Saheera. She may understand what Saghor was doing and why he gave me this scroll." Kha'Ruun knew his wife was intelligent, and she had inherited great wisdom from her family.

  He walked with haste toward his tent.

  Arriving at his tent, he saw the children sleeping — they were certainly tired from all the migration. Only Rokan, the eldest, was still awake.

  "Good evening. How was your day, son?" he said, entering and greeting Rokan, looking around. Saheera wasn't in the tent.

  "Nothing much. I was with mother and the other boys the whole time. We marched together today, and she just went out to give the orphans some food."

  "I see. Good job taking care of the family when I'm out." Kha'Ruun was proud of his son — he was strong, a good hunter, and now nearly as tall as him.

  "Thanks, Father. I would lay my life down for this family." Rokan was happy to be praised by the man he admired most.

  Someone entered the tent. It was Saheera. "Good evening. How are you both?"

  Saheera seemed exhausted as she asked how they were doing.

  "I'm fine, Mother. What about you?" Rokan replied.

  "I'm also doing well, just tired." Saheera then looked at Kha'Ruun, who hadn't said anything yet. He seemed lost in thought. "I'm also doing well, my dear," replied Kha'Ruun.

  "Saheera, I have something important I need to talk about with you. Come keep me company for a while — let's walk a little." Kha'Ruun invited her outside.

  Seeing her husband's expression, she understood it was something significant. "Okay. Rokan, watch over your brother for a while." Saheera left the instruction and they left the tent together.

  Outside, there was a crowd of people and tents packed close together. Everything was messy. Many were sleeping without tents, some were exhausted, and the situation wasn't good for anyone.

  "Sigh. The situation keeps worsening, and sadly there is nothing we can do but hope the slave hunters will leave us soon," said Saheera, lamenting the horrible situation they had lived in since childhood. They had always lived this nomadic life — fate had been unjust to the weak.

  "I have bad news. Saghor assembled most of the hunting squad leaders and sub-leaders, and the situation wasn't good." Kha'Ruun soon told Saheera everything — including when Saghor followed him afterward and gave him the beast scroll.

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  "I don't know why he gave it to me or what's inside, but I think he wants me to give it to you." Kha'Ruun took the scroll from a beast-skin bag and handed it to Saheera.

  "I feel strange holding this scroll. I can't really put the feeling into words." Saheera felt strange holding it in her hand. She was curious to know what was written inside, but thinking of what Saghor had said, she stopped herself.

  "Don't worry. I'm sure we will understand it with time. Get everything together by tomorrow." Kha'Ruun said.

  "You should return and stay with the children. I need to go meet Doku and Zakarum, my vice leader, to assemble the hunters who will go with us." He hugged Saheera and gave her a kiss, then went toward Doku's tent.

  He was still uneasy about Saghor's plan, but he needed to get himself together. Now it wouldn't just be his family that needed him — he would lead thousands on this journey.

  Kha'Ruun arrived at Zakarum's tent and called out to announce himself. Zakarum soon emerged.

  "Zah'Ruun fateya," Kha'Ruun greeted him — May fate favor you.

  "And may it not turn its back on us," Zakarum replied.

  "Has the news been passed to the others?" asked Kha'Ruun with a serious tone.

  "Yes. I've already told most of the hunters in our group, and Saghor's message is spreading fast — it will be a challenge to organize everyone."

  "I understand. It will be better to stay with those who already work together. Right now, let's separate the whole camp into five sections based on zones." Kha'Ruun already had an idea of how to divide things — he just needed to discuss it with Doku quickly.

  "I've organized most of my things. I'll only take what's necessary and leave the rest," Zakarum said.

  "Good. Tell the others the same — take only the essential and leave the rest." Kha'Ruun left Zakarum and went to find Doku.

  In Kha'Ruun's tent, Antonio — now called Ankai — was sleeping soundly. The boy was now five years old. And tonight was the fated day — the start of something grand with Uhn'Zaka's power in this world.

  The boy woke abruptly, and an extreme pain came to his head — unbearable for a little boy. He started crying.

  Their tent was a little isolated from the others, out of respect — or fear — of his father. Rokan, who was outside, hurried inside after hearing the boy cry.

  "What happened? Why are you crying? Did you hurt yourself?"

  Rokan looked at the crying Ankai with worry. He went near him and took him in his arms, patting his back, trying to calm him — but he cried even louder, waking everyone.

  Meysha woke up from her sleep. With sleepy eyes, she asked, "Rokan, why is he crying this much?"

  She took Ankai from Rokan's arms. "I don't know, Meysha. I was outside when I heard him crying." Rokan didn't know what to do. He was worried, and Ankai wasn't stopping. He had never been good at taking care of young children.

  Meysha tried singing a song, but it made little difference. It was the first time Ankai hadn't calmed in Meysha's arms.

  "Don't cry, little Ankai. Big sister is here," she said, while also checking whether he had hurt himself or been bitten by a bug.

  "I should go call Mother," Rokan said, worried. He left the tent immediately to look for her.

  Outside it was dark, and many families were organizing their belongings, packing various items, some already dismantling their tents. Rokan sprinted past many neighbors, asking some if they had seen his mother. Some pointed him in the right direction.

  Some neighbors watched him sprinting past, wondering what had happened to make the Kha'Ruun boy look so distressed.

  Saheera was returning from talking with some friends when she saw Rokan sprinting toward her from a distance. Seeing his mother, Rokan was overjoyed — luckily, he didn't need to go far.

  "Mom! It's Ankai — something is wrong. He's crying so hard and we can't calm him at all. Even Meysha can't."

  Saheera's heart stirred. "Did something happen to him?" She started sprinting, and Rokan followed.

  "I don't know, Mother. I tried my best, but I didn't know what else to do." Rokan was still young — he hadn't even become a full hunter yet. He had no experience with children.

  In the tent, Ankai kept crying. Meysha couldn't help but get teary-eyed — it was the first time their little brother had cried this much. Tari woke up too, and seeing her little brother like this, she also started crying. Tears fell from Meysha's eyes as well. She tried singing and blessing him, but nothing worked.

  Soon, Saheera entered the tent, followed by Rokan. She went straight to Ankai and took him from Meysha.

  "My poor child. Why are you crying this much?"

  The poor boy was still crying, even in his mother's embrace.

  Saheera felt pained seeing him like this. She could feel his pain — but today, something else was different. Since she was little, she had a talent to sense the supernatural, which is why her faith in the gods had always been strong.

  With the baby in her arms, she felt a strange sensation. A memory stirred in her mind — her grandmother singing a chant called the Sa'khara of the Watching Sky.

  She began to sing it.

  Her voice was melodious, creating a peaceful atmosphere in the tent. Meysha, who was also a great singer, soon joined her mother. She rarely sang this song.

  While they were singing, Saheera's pendant began to glow.

  "Mother, something is glowing on your neck." It was Tari who first noticed and called out to her mother.

  "Mother, it's your pendant — why is it glowing?" Rokan exclaimed in surprise. The children even stopped singing for a moment.

  For the first time, the pendant her late grandmother had given her glowed. She had heard stories of its mysterious power, but she had always had doubts.

  She kept singing, the melody growing, and Meysha and Tari soon joined in again. Then she took the pendant from her neck and placed it on her little boy's chest. She kept singing. The pendant's glowing light entered Ankai's body and enveloped him. It instantly calmed him.

  Ankai stopped crying when he heard the chant.

  The sealed memories returned to him — all the way from his life on Earth to his meeting with Uhn'Zaka.

  "I remember now," Ankai thought to himself, clarity returning with the memories.

  Saheera, looking at her calming boy with tears in her eyes, kept singing and humming. She was confused by everything happening — but above all, she was happy her child seemed to feel better.

  While they were all singing, something strange happened to Ankai. Totem marks appeared across the boy's whole body, shining so brightly they almost blinded everyone.

  Saheera was shocked. She knew what they were. "These... these marks are—" She couldn't even finish her sentence before all the children shouted in surprise. They saw a light envelope both their mother and brother.

  "Mother! Behind you!" Rokan exclaimed.

  Saheera turned. What she saw left her in awe — she felt a sense of reverence as she looked at it. It was the illusion of two massive serpents, vast as the sky. The two illusory serpents emitted an aura that made everything around them feel small.

  She kneeled and kept humming, holding the baby, then looked at her older children.

  "Everyone kneel before the great miracle of the ancestors and pray and give thanks." She stopped singing and started praying. The children followed.

  Rokan was the last to kneel. When things had turned supernatural, he had reached for his spear — but watching his mother kneel, he set it down and followed her.

  With their prayer, something happened to the illusion. It grew bigger, kept growing, leaving the tent, getting so big it reached the sky.

  "What is that in the sky?" said a young woman who had been getting her things ready.

  An older man, who seemed a little drunk, shouted, "It's the ancestors! Our god has heard our prayer!"

  Many in the settlement started praying, not even knowing what was happening — some were just surprised and lost.

  Saghor, in his tent, opened his eyes. He had been resting, but now he felt something — he knew what it was. The manifestation of a Totem Spirit.

  "So this is the birth of a Totem Spirit," Saghor said with excitement.

  He had known something big would happen today. Still, he hadn't expected or divined it to be the birth of a new Totem Spirit — and here, in this wasteland. This was the opportunity they needed.

  "Jaknu, call all my assistants. I need to divine something right away."

  "Master, your health — you aren't in a good condition to do divination," replied Jaknu, trying to stop him.

  "I must do it right away, because I'm sure things will change and evolve faster than I predicted." Saghor got up, took a sack, and retrieved some beast bones from the corner of his room.

  Outside, Kha'Ruun saw the serpent manifestation rising from the ground — from the direction of his tent. He didn't think twice. He sprinted toward it.

  Near the border of the wasteland, the Shakra tribe had built their temporary city a year ago. It was larger than any wanderer settlement, and many slave traders moved in and out of it. Warriors stood vigilant, watching for anyone suspicious.

  In a large wooden house with many bone decorations, an older man opened his eyes and looked toward the wasteland.

  "What terrifying Totem power. What tribe does this belong to?"

  The mysterious man went into the room next door, lit a bonfire, and took some strange ceremonial attire from a wooden box. He began his incantations.

  "I will find which tribe dares to showcase their Totem power this openly," he murmured, returning to his ritual.

  Not far away, in another large and imposing house — the leader of the Shakra tribe's house.

  "Something is happening in this part of the wasteland." It was the infamous leader of the Shakra, Gorvakh Shakra.

  "Raskel! Come here — take a team of Totem Warriors with you and go investigate this mysterious power in the wasteland," Gorvakh called his third son.

  "Yes, Father. I will be on my way right away."

  Raskel appeared as soon as his father called him and left as soon as he received his instructions.

  "I hope it's not something bad. I have a bad feeling about this," Gorvakh said to himself, hoping it wasn't his enemies plotting something.