"Bitter..." Skylar spat.

  Lying on his back—so he registered subconsciously—he refused to let the unknown liquid trickling onto his face get into his mouth, which had already become wet and filled with the foul substance.

  Half-conscious, he briefly opened his eyes, and when he did, he saw only whiteness, and in the next moment, the disgusting liquid poured over his face as if it had been waiting for him to come around. Its bitter smell overwhelmed his senses and suffocated him, and as a result he passed out once again—never getting to know the culprit responsible for this atrocity or what the disgusting liquid actually was.

  In front of an arena bordered by beautiful glowing flower hedges of different kinds and colors, and just a few meter from it, Skylar lay on a large tree stump carved into a bench under the golden illumination of the region at that hour, spectating as two monkey-looking people engaged in a friendly exchange in the large arena.

  One of the monkeys was about four meters tall and had a handsome monkey face with bright golden fur that matched the rays of light kissing it. The other—quite a sorry case—had gray fur, was shorter than one and a half meters, gaunt, and borderline ugly, with sparse hair on its head that made it look like a bald monkey.

  "Ugly monkeys, so slow and stupid. Can't even do the simplest of things," Skylar jeered from the bench at the two figures, each holding a wooden staff as they sparred under the cool golden rays peeking from the very low-hanging golden cloud above them.

  Truly, their clashes were very slow—like two twelve-year-olds suffering from eleventh-grade syndrome displaying their symptoms. The golden monkey would raise its wooden staff slowly, and the ugly one would take forever to dodge a hit aimed at its head from the slowly descending weapon. Even when the ugly monkey, as if in slow motion, struggled to block the extremely slow strikes, it would always fall onto its butt or sometimes onto its back while smiling foolishly, as though it had reached the peak of life.

  These developers are crazy. Can't they try something else? Why waste my precious time on stupid monkeys? Skylar sneered. Then, probably tired, he lay sideways on the bench, his eyes still on the arena. Shortly after, he muttered quietly, "Monkeys here are really stupid, acting like they’re some super-intelligent species. Look at that ugly bastard—he’s even happy he’s getting trashed in a useless kid’s game..."

  Before the evidently grumpy Skylar could continue further with his derision, a wooden staff flew from somewhere and landed upright on its smallest end right in front of him, as if challenging him.

  "What?" Skylar blurted out. He looked at the staff standing before him in confusion, then returned his gaze to the arena—the place it had come from.

  "You want to fight?" He sat up and frowned at the ugly, bald monkey, who had been glaring in his direction with a scowl and an obvious expression of anger—a detestable bastard creature, the gray, bald monkey person thought.

  He nodded.

  "Okay. I will be pleased to teach you the lesson of a lifetime." Skylar stood up imperiously, walked toward the arena with the staff in hand, and jumped over a tall glowing flower hedge—a distant species of tulip—into the arena.

  Petting the wooden staff, Skylar came face-to-face with the ugly bald monkey person. Afterward, he turned to the golden monkey person standing at the edge of the arena, watching them intently.

  "Do you agree with this?" he asked, and the golden monkey person nodded affirmatively. Skylar then returned his gaze to the ugly bald monkey person, who continued to cast a mean look at him.

  Imperiously, he began, "If I injure you, don’t blame me. Blame your elders for not telling you who you should never challenge."

  He took his stance, standing there like an idiot admiring the earthly stars in the sky while hitting the palm of his other hand with the wooden staff.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Afterwards, the golden monkey person—the fair observer—gave the signal for the fight to begin. With a condescending look on his face, Skylar instructed the smiling bald monkey, "Come at me. I will allow you the first attack."

  He watched as the bald, ugly monkey walked casually toward him with somewhat slow, short steps.

  But the moment the bald monkey reached him, smiling, Skylar noticed a glare that made him raise his head. A wooden staff, illuminated by golden rays from the sky, towered above him—his head its obvious target.

  However, as he tried to move out of the way casually, he realized none of his muscles budged.

  What’s happening? I can’t move. What did he do? he panicked. Has he been extremely fast all along, or my senses are deceiving me?

  In slow motion, he watched the wooden staff land squarely and precisely on his head. He couldn’t even react, and there on the hard floor of the arena he passed out totally and ungracefully, foam gathering at his mouth.

  Under a large flowering tree with glowing blossoms—a distant relative of the magnolia—growing by a cliffside and highlighted by the naked, awe-inspiring starry heavens, four monkey people of unique bearing sat in a square on ground carpeted by tiny white grasses that seemed to reflect the milky rays of light filtering through small gaps in the illuminating canopy.

  Chattering like monkeys, they had wooden wine jars and cups—one placed in front of each of them—and two large bowls containing what was probably a snack of monkey origin at their center.

  "He has a unique way of expressing grief," a snow-white old monkey chattered. The weight of his recent loss is just settling on him… what a pitiable trait of an intelligent creature… he added in his mind, fascination on his ancient face as he watched the ripples in the wine cup he held close. Like the others, he sat on the grassy ground, the tree about a meter behind him.

  "Father, he is just a lowly and ungrateful intruder. I suggest we throw him down the mountain before someone kills him in anger," a stern-looking monkey person proposed, clearly expressing his dissatisfaction.

  How dare that thing profane my treasure… absolutely unforgivable… he added internally, glancing at the other two monkey people to gauge their reactions. One sat opposite the old monkey—a scholarly and comparatively young monkey with lustrous pitch-black fur. The other, a taller gray monkey, sat opposite him, looking nonchalant.

  Someone that fell from the heavens and easily passed through our barrier. If I didn’t see it, I would never have believed it… And he also happens to be one of those people mentioned in ancient records. This is clearly not ordinary… The young monkey smiled faintly. Quitting his contemplation, he raised his head and chattered to himself, "This creature was either sent to us by the heavens, or rather… this ancient personage is here to honor us."

  "So the chief also saw it," the old monkey interjected, raising his head with a smile as he looked at the sagacious young monkey before him.

  "Grandfather, please tell us what you saw?" the young monkey replied with a wise question—one that would answer the old monkey and perhaps clear his own doubts.

  I thought they also saw it—that raging blaze hidden in his cracked and damaged spirit root… I guess it was only revealed to me. What an honor, the old monkey thought.

  "I say we destroy him," he proposed. At these words, the formerly dissatisfied stern gray monkey smirked, satisfaction on his face.

  Meanwhile, both the young monkey—the chief—and the tall gray monkey frowned, confusion written across their faces. They looked at the old monkey, hoping for an explanation.

  However, instead of explaining immediately, the old monkey took a sip of wine and corrected himself. "I mean we destroy his spirit," he chattered. This time, the young chief sighed in relief, while the tall gray monkey, still confused, looked toward the chief for clarification. Sensing his gaze, the chief turned to him.

  "Father, have you forgotten? Before we—"

  "Jaro," the old monkey interrupted, his chatter low and authoritative, drawing everyone’s attention. The stern gray monkey’s attentive gaze lingered on him, unlike the chief and the tall gray monkey.

  The old monkey continued in a quiet, monotonous tone, "I will put you in charge." He declared it plainly. The stern gray monkey, who became unhappy after understanding the intention behind the words, maintained a poker face, trying not to reveal the dissatisfaction he felt.

  Indeed, Uncle Jaro is the best candidate for this operation… the chief thought, glancing at the stern-looking monkey person. He clearly does not like him—maybe because of his daughter… but I look forward to what we will witness at the end. I hope it is what I think it is…

  "Jaro, do a great job," the old monkey person chattered once again under the breezy nightly sky. Then, in silence, they continued their night gathering, each harboring different thoughts.