Amanu Savada's home was more of a shelter than a house. The rain poured down in torrents, drumming against the rusted corrugated iron roof, a sound that had long since ceased to be comforting. The roof leaked, as it always did when the weather turned, and Amanu carefully positioned buckets underneath the worst of the leaks, hoping to prevent the water from flooding the dirt floor.
He glanced over at Fleora, his wife, who was seated at the small wooden table in the corner of their kitchen. She was peeling potatoes, her movements steady despite the harsh conditions. Her long, silky brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, and even in the dim light of their small mud house, her fair skin seemed to glow. Amanu's heart ached as he looked at her, and he felt a pang of guilt. She was pregnant, still in the early months, and didn't deserve to be living in such squalor.
He sighed and turned away, walking out of the cramped kitchen and into the bedroom. It wasn't much of a bedroom—just a small space with a wooden cupboard and a makeshift bed. He grabbed his old raincoat, hanging from a nail on the cupboard door. The coat was worn and patched, but it would have to do. He reached up, tapping around the top of the cupboard until his fingers found the handle of his cleaver knife. It was sharp, and the blade had been carefully maintained, the edge honed to perfection.
As he slipped the cleaver into his coat, he opened the window and looked out. The rain was coming down hard, but that was no surprise. He had heard it before he even opened his eyes that morning. The sound of the water hitting the roof was as familiar to him as his own heartbeat.
He started to climb out the window, careful not to make too much noise, but was stopped by a voice behind him.
"Where do you think you're going?" Fleora asked, her tone more curious than angry.
Amanu turned slowly to face her. She stood in the doorway, her arms folded over her chest, a slight frown creasing her beautiful face. She wore a long black dress, her pregnant belly just beginning to show.
"I was just going to fetch some water," Amanu replied, trying to sound casual, though he knew it was a poor excuse.
Fleora raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Don't worry, we have plenty of rainwater falling into the buckets." She wasn't convinced, and Amanu knew it.
He laughed nervously, trying to think of a better excuse. "I guess I'll go visit Einu then. Gotta finish helping him build his house. It's a lot of work, I won't lie."
"On a rainy day? And why would that make you try to leave through the window?" Her eyes locked onto his, searching for the truth.
Amanu looked back at the window, the rain still pouring down. "I was…" he began, but Fleora interrupted him.
"Enough with the lies, Amanu. I know you're trying to go cleave some beasts in the forest. I won't let you go on such a dangerous job, especially not on a day like this," she said firmly.
Amanu sighed and walked closer to her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "Fleora, I want us to live a better life. Look at this place—this is no home for a goddess like you. I need to earn some money to give us a better future, for me, for you, and for our son when he arrives."
Fleora's expression softened, but she was still worried. "We'll figure something else out together, Amanu. But this job is too dangerous. I don't want to lose you." Her voice faltered, and she looked away, trying to hide the tears forming in her eyes.
Amanu's heart ached as he wiped away a tear from her cheek. "I wouldn't do this if I had any other choice, my goddess. Don't worry—I'm quite capable. You won't be losing anyone." He forced a smile, trying to reassure her. "But I must go now. I don't want to miss 'them'."
As he walked away toward the sitting room, Fleora called after him. "How do you know it's a boy? It might be a girl."
Amanu paused and turned back with a grin. "I'm pretty sure it's a boy," he chuckled before stepping out into the rain.
Fleora watched him go, her arms still folded, her worry growing with every step he took. Even though Amanu had done these missions multiple times, Fleora's uneasiness had never lessened. Amanu didn't have big muscles like the rest of the guys he usually went to these missions with. His frame, sculpted by hardship, told the story of a life where every meal was uncertain. He had a patchy beard and messy brown hair which tangled due to him rarely ever taking care of it. He never paid much attention to himself, everything he did was for his wife and now his son-to-be born child. She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer, hoping it would keep him safe.
Outside, the rain hit Amanu's coat with a relentless fury, soaking him almost instantly. The village streets were muddy, and his shoes squelched with every step. The village was a poverty-stricken place, with most of the houses made of mud and thatch. But even in the rain, people greeted him out of their windows as he passed, offering words of concern and inviting him inside to stay dry. He politely declined, knowing that they understood where he was headed.
He walked the main road that cut through the center of the village, leaving behind the familiar sights. The village was quiet, the only noise the relentless patter of rain on the ground. As he reached the edge of the village, he looked back one last time, the weight of what he was about to do heavy on his mind.
He turned and continued walking, entering the dense forest that separated his village from the Kingdom of Danvis. The forest was thick with undergrowth, the trees tall and ancient, their branches forming a canopy that blocked out the sky. It was a place of both beauty and danger, where the line between life and death was razor-thin.
Amanu climbed a tree, finding a perch where he could wait. He was looking for a certain type of person, and it didn't take long for him to spot one. A man dressed in brown trousers and a yellow shirt, with a blue jersey adorned with jewelry, was making his way through the forest. The man carried a sword on his back, his brown, wavy, medium-length hair damp from the rain.
Amanu watched as the man moved deeper into the forest, his heart pounding in his chest. He followed at a distance, careful not to make any noise. The forest grew darker as they ventured further in, the air thick with the smell of wet earth and decay. Amanu kept his distance, his hand resting on the handle of his cleaver, ready for anything.
The man stopped suddenly, and Amanu froze, hiding behind a bush. A low growl filled the air, and a massive bear stepped out from the shadows. This was no ordinary bear—it was twice the size of a normal bear, its fur a deep brown colour, its eyes glowing an eerie brown. The beast bared its fangs, its growl vibrating through the ground.
Amanu's heart raced, fear gripping him as he watched the scene unfold. The man, however, didn't flinch. He calmly unsheathed his sword, the blade glinting in the dim light. The beast lunged, its claws extended, but the man was faster. He dodged each attack with a grace that was almost supernatural, his movements precise and controlled.
The bear, enraged, leaped at the man, its jaws wide open, ready to tear him apart. The man stood his ground, and as the bear closed in, the metallic part of his sword burst into flames. With a swift motion, he slashed at the beast's neck, the blade cutting through flesh and bone with ease. The bear let out a pained howl as it crashed into the trees.
The flames on the man's sword flickered out, and he sheathed the blade with a satisfied smile. "Not even a sweat," he muttered to himself before continuing his journey deeper into the forest.
Amanu crouched behind the thick bush, his breath shallow, heart pounding in his chest. He was still in shock at what had just unfolded before his eyes. The battle between the colossal bear and the man had been nothing short of terrifying. He had been a Cleaver for years, but men like this never failed to amaze him. That man's fire-wreathed sword, cutting through the bear, hadn't even extinguished despite the heavy rain.
He watched in stunned silence as the man, cloaked in an air of cold dominance, sheathed his sword and strode deeper into the forest, his figure disappearing into the mist. Now was his chance. Amanu quickly moved towards the bear's fallen body, the creature's enormous form sprawled lifelessly on the soaked ground. His mind raced with thoughts of profit.
This was a rare opportunity—a beast this size would fetch a hefty sum. As he reached the bear, he stopped in awe at its sheer size. The creature's fur was thick and dark, almost like armor. Tentatively, he touched it, the texture surprising him. Even in death, the beast exuded raw power. He fumbled for his cleaver, crouching near the chest where the most valuable meat was.
"Near the heart," he muttered to himself. "That's where the money is."
He began cutting away at the fur, slowly revealing the tough skin beneath. Each movement was methodical. He needed to make a clean job of this. However, a realization struck him—he had been so eager to rush here today, he had forgotten his basket to carry the meat. Frustration surged within him, but he quickly pushed it aside. He would use his coat to wrap the meat. It wasn't ideal, but he didn't have any other choice.
As he removed his coat, the rain hammered down harder, soaking him almost instantly. The cold was biting, seeping through his thin white shirt. Shivering, he spread the coat on the ground, preparing it to hold the cuts of meat. He turned back to the bear, ready to continue his work, when something froze him in place.
The wolf's chest was rising and falling—subtly, but unmistakably.
It was still alive.
Amanu's blood ran cold as he locked eyes with the beast. Its brown eyes, glowing even in the dark of the forest, were open and fixated on him. It let out a low, menacing growl, the deep rumble vibrating through the earth. Terror gripped Amanu. The cleaver slipped from his hand as he scrambled backward, falling onto the muddy ground.
The bear struggled to its feet, its massive form rising despite the severe wound. The burn across its neck had closed over instead of bleeding, but the injury clearly pained the beast. Amanu, now in full-blown panic, screamed as he turned and fled, crashing through the underbrush, branches whipping at his face and arms.
He could hear the bear behind him, its breath ragged but still fearsome. Each thunderous step it took shook the ground beneath him, and though it was slowed by its injury, it was still fast—too fast. Amanu ran blindly, his terror overriding any sense of direction. His feet stumbled over rocks and roots, his body crashing through bushes, but he kept running, desperate to escape the nightmare chasing him.
As he darted between trees, the rain blurring his vision, he noticed a break in the forest ahead. Light. Freedom. He pushed himself harder, his lungs burning, ignoring the sharp pain in his legs and arms. But just as he glanced back to check the bear's distance, a huge paw slammed into his side.
The force of the impact sent Amanu flying, his body crashing into the wet earth outside the tree line. His right arm bent at a grotesque angle—broken. He screamed, agony ripping through him. Gasping, he tried to crawl, the grass slick with rain and blood beneath his hands. But he could feel the beast behind him, its breath hot on his neck. It was closing in for the kill.
He reached the edge of the cliff, the sound of the river raging below mixing with his panicked breaths. The ground fell away sharply in front of him, a sheer drop into the churning waters below. He was trapped. He turned back to face the beast, tears of terror streaming down his face.
"Go back! Please!" he cried out, his voice a pitiful wail.
The bear advanced, slow and deliberate, its eyes locked on its prey. Amanu could only watch in horror as it lunged at him, jaws wide open, ready to finish him off.
But before the beast could strike, a wave of fire—like a burning crescent—slashed through the air. The beast's head was severed cleanly, and its body crumpled lifelessly to the ground. Amanu blinked in disbelief, his heart still pounding as he stared at the decapitated beast.
Standing above the corpse, the same man from before loomed, his flaming sword now extinguished. He looked down at Amanu, who was sobbing in relief, and spoke with a voice that dripped with disdain.
"Poor soul."
Amanu looked up, his gratitude flooding out. "Thank you, thank you, sir! You saved me!" he babbled, trying to gather himself.
The man crouched down; his eyes cold as he studied Amanu. "Poor soul," he repeated, shaking his head. "Why does your kind cling so desperately to life when you have no purpose?"
Amanu's relief turned into confusion, then fear. "W-what do you mean?" he stammered.
The man looked at his own hand, flexing his fingers before igniting a small flame in his palm. "This... is a Mave," he said softly, the fire casting eerie shadows on his face. "Only those chosen by God possess this gift. Those like you... you serve no purpose. You're not one of God's chosen."
Amanu trembled, his terror returning in full force. "Please," he whimpered, "help me. Take me back to my village. I have a family—"
"Why would one of God's chosen bother himself with a reject?" the man scoffed, standing up." I've heard of guys who do what you do— informal Cleavers. You trail Mavers, take the meat from the beasts they slay, and sell it at high prices because that meat's got higher nutritional value compared to that of normal animals due to the energy flowing inside these beasts."
The man looked down on him on the ground. "The meat you lot sell is a public threat. You have no way of checking for viruses or parasites in it. What you're doing is criminal," he said his voice void of emotion as Amanu winced in pain beneath him.
"All I do… I do it to provide for my family," Amanu tried explaining. "Please Sir, can you take me to—"
"So, you don't care if everyone else dies, as long as you can feed your family?" The man interrupted.
"No, I didn't mean—"
"Selfish. You're a selfish man in a selfish world… who am I to judge?" The man cut him off again. "Given the state you're in, I don't think you'll be able to provide for your family anymore. Your entire right side is wrecked, your arm's completely broken." The man looked down at him pitifully. "But I am merciful. I'll spare you any more suffering."
Before Amanu could react, the man grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hoisted him up effortlessly. Amanu's cries for mercy fell on deaf ears. The man stared into his eyes; disgust evident in his expression.
"Bloody reject," the man spat, then tossed Amanu over the edge of the cliff.
Amanu screamed as he plunged into the violent waters below, the sound of his own terror mixing with the crashing river. His broken arm throbbed as he hit the water, the current dragging him under. He fought to keep his head above the surface, but the pain and the force of the river were too much.
As Amanu struggled against the raging current, his strength fading with every passing second, a deep, aching regret settled into his chest—he would never see his unborn son. The thought hit him harder than the icy water pulling him down. He had dreamed of holding his child, of seeing his tiny face, of teaching him to be strong and kind. But now, that future had slipped away. His wife, with her gentle hands and soft smile, had begged him not to leave this morning, sensing something wrong.
"I should've listened," he choked out, the cold water filling his mouth. "I should've stayed with her…" he thought to himself.
Amanu's heart twisted painfully. His wife would never know what had happened, and their child would grow up without a father. He cursed his own stubbornness, his pride, his endless need to prove he was more than just a poor Cleaver. His life, his wife's love, his unborn son's future—had been worth more than any beast's meat, yet he had thrown it all away.
"If only… I hadn't been born poor. Or without a Mave." He thought to himself.
That was his greatest curse, wasn't it? Not being one of the chosen. If he had been born with power, he could have been living inside the Kingdom of Danvis not this God-forsaken ditch they call home. He could have provided for his family. Protected them. Lived a life of meaning. But instead, he was nothing—just another body swallowed by the river.
Just before he lost consciousness, he saw flashes of green light beneath the water, growing brighter as they drew nearer. He tried to make sense of them, but before he could, darkness swallowed him whole. Tears mixed with the rain and the water as his vision dimmed.