Page 1
A night with no stars.
In the heart of a forest that knows no mercy, where two rivers meet in complete silence, stands a lone wooden hut.
As if it were the last warm thing in the world.
A faint yellow light seeps through its small window. Steam from food rises slowly in the cold air, then vanishes as if it never existed.
Page 2
Inside the hut, fire dances across the walls.
Maria stands at the stove, her back to the reader, stirring the food with a quiet that doesn't resemble true quiet. It resembles the quiet of someone trying not to think.
On the floor, the father sits cross-legged. The infant cradled in his arms.
He tickles the baby's belly with rough, scarred fingers. Fingers that made war for years, and learned tonight how to touch with tenderness.
Page 3
Close-up on the infant's face.
His mouth wide open. Laughing a laugh that knows no fear, no wars, no what awaits outside the door.
The father pulls him to his chest. Eyes closed.
On his tired face, a smile he forgot long ago.
In the background, Maria's shoulder rises slightly. A suppressed laugh that doesn't want to end.
One complete moment.
As if the world outside the hut stopped out of respect.
Page 4
Suddenly.
The smile disappears from the father's face.
He doesn't move. He doesn't speak. Only his eyes open wide, staring into the void before him.
The frame grows darker. The shadows retreat. Even the firelight seems weaker.
As if something entered the hut without opening the door.
Page 5
A small pot on the shelf.
Trembles lightly.
Then more.
Then more.
The father looks to the left. His eyes wide.
Page 6
He places his hand on the ground.
The trembling grows beneath his fingers, slowly, mercilessly. As if something massive walks through the forest and approaches.
Maria stops cooking. She looks at him.
The infant suddenly goes silent.
His small eyes widen as if he understands something the adults cannot.
Page 7
Doom.
Doom.
Doom.
Heavy war drums emerge from deep within the forest. Each beat closer than the last.
Between the trees, countless shadows move. Red torches light the darkness like eyes that never go out.
Flocks of birds explode from between the trees in a frenzy. Fleeing something not yet seen.
Page 8
The father stands.
He lifts the infant and wraps him in the wool blanket with fast, desperate movements. But his hands do not tremble.
Maria reaches her hand toward him. Her eyes ask without words.
His eyes answer: Don't ask. Just trust me.
He whispers in a hoarse voice, as if afraid the forest might hear:
"The war drums of the Shaluby Kingdom."
Maria places both hands over her mouth. Her face goes pale.
Page 9
"I don't care."
Her voice is broken.
"I want my child."
He looks at her for a long moment before speaking.
"If this ends well… I'll come back to him. I promise."
Heavy silence fills the hut.
Maria lowers her head. She kisses the infant's forehead — a long kiss. Her tears fall on his small face that doesn't understand why his mother is crying.
Page 10
The night outside the hut is bitterly cold.
The father's breath turns to white clouds that vanish instantly.
The river before him is black and silent. The water moves slowly, as if breathing.
He pulls a small wooden plank to the riverbank.
He places the infant on top of it.
With two hands that don't deserve this tenderness. But they do it anyway.
Page 11
He hesitates.
He stares at his son's face in the pale moonlight. A face that doesn't yet know what fear means.
The infant stretches out his tiny hand and grabs his father's finger.
Holds it with a strange strength for a child this small.
One tear falls from the father's eye.
He whispers in a trembling voice:
"Goodbye, my child. I will return. I will return, I promise."
Page 12
The plank drifts away with the current.
Slowly. Into the unknown.
A small necklace hangs from the infant's neck, glimmering beneath the moon.
Close-up: the name MABU engraved upon it.
The child stretches his tiny hand toward the darkness. Toward the hut growing distant. Toward the father standing on the bank like a statue.
The father doesn't move. He remains standing until the plank disappears into the darkness.
Then he turns.
Page 13
He enters the hut. Closes the door behind him.
Maria is putting on her armor. Light feminine armor bearing old scratches. Each scratch a story she doesn't want to remember tonight.
She looks at him. Her eyes ask.
He nods.
"We must fight."
Page 14
He takes his sword from the wall.
He runs his hand along the cold blade. His tired face reflects in it for a moment.
He stares at himself as if asking: Am I ready?
He turns toward Maria. Kisses her head.
"We defended this peace with our own hands. We won't let it be taken from us easily."
Before he can finish, a sound from outside cuts him off.
Page 15
A horse's whinny pierces the silence of the night.
Outside the hut, a massive man rides a black horse. A small golden crown on his head. His face carries the smile of one who has never known defeat.
Beside him, a boy no older than ten on a white horse.
His eyes unnaturally calm for a child his age.
No fear. No curiosity. Nothing.
Page 16
Behind them, an army.
Orange armor stretches between the trees as far as the eye can see. Yellow banners flutter in the cold air.
A large banner at the front:
Shaluby Clan — Pure Gold.
Page 17
"My King Bumer… we have arrived!"
Bumer raises his hand slowly. The army halts.
He smiles a cold smile that never reaches his eyes.
Page 18
"You treacherous General."
His voice fills the forest.
"Come out if you're a man. Otherwise we'll burn this hut with everyone inside."
Silence.
Then the hut door opens slowly.
Page 19
The father steps out.
His orange armor gleams beneath the torches. Same color. Same clan.
A man who was once one of them.
Maria behind him. Her sword raised. Her face steady despite the tears that just dried.
"I made a vow never to kill again. Don't force me to break it, Bumer."
Page 20
Bumer laughs. A loud, artificial laugh that fills the forest.
He turns to his son:
"Look, Kazuko. This is the coward I told you about. He fought under my command in every war, slaughtered my enemies with these two hands — then fled like a rat. For a woman whose own people abandoned her."
Kazuko looks at the father.
No hatred. No contempt.
Only an empty gaze that watches and records.
Page 21
"Our clan's law is clear. The traitor is killed."
The father is silent for a moment.
His eyes sweep the soldiers coldly.
"Then… come."
He raises his sword slowly. Takes a combat stance for the first time in a full year.
His body remembers what his mind tried to forget.
Page 22
"Attack!"
The soldiers surge forward like a flood.
The first soldier strikes hard. The father dodges with unexpected fluidity — as if the body remembers on its own. A spark flies from the clash of blades.
In the same moment, a knife from his sleeve pierces the soldier.
He falls.
Page 23
The battle ignites.
The father fights with quiet ferocity. Maria deflects blows with difficulty.
A massive soldier strikes Maria with his iron gauntlet. She falls. Her sword flies away.
Bumer claps from atop his horse as if watching a performance.
The soldier looms over Maria. His fist rises.
Then his head falls.
Page 24
The father stands behind the corpse. His sword stained. His breath ragged.
He reaches his hand toward Maria.
She reaches back. Her face streaked with blood and tears.
Their fingers on the verge of touching.
Maria's eyes suddenly widen. She looks past him.
"Watch out!"
Behind the father, a soldier charges with his sword raised. Aiming for the back of his neck.
The father doesn't see him.
No time to turn.
Continued in Chapter Two: The Fall That Was Never Heard