Tribal Chief Thorne stepped out of Usato's hut, the weight of their conversation still heavy on his shoulders. But the relative quiet of the tribal grounds had been violently ripped apart. Panicked shouts, screams of terror, and the sickening thud of impacts filled the air. Orange flames licked at the thatched roofs of nearby huts, casting long, dancing shadows over a horrific scene. Chaos reigned. Bodies, both Evergreen and those who had turned on them, were piling up and lay scattered across the clearing, a grim testament to the sudden, brutal conflict.
Thorne's blood ran cold. He spotted a tribal warrior running frantically towards him, his face streaked with soot and fear, stumbling over the fallen. Thorne grabbed his arm, pulling him close. "What is happening? Who did this?" he demanded, his voice tight with urgency.
The warrior's eyes were wide with terror, darting back towards the carnage. "Chief! Elder Thornek and his family… they've rebelled! They're the ones burning houses and killing our tribesmen!"
"What?!" Thorne roared, the shock hitting him like a physical blow. He struggled to comprehend the betrayal amidst the unfolding horror. Taking a deep breath, forcing down the surge of anger and disbelief, he regained a semblance of calm. "Come with me," he commanded, his voice low and resolute, his gaze sweeping over the devastation. "We need to regroup all our loyal tribal warriors."
Inside his hut, the sounds of chaos were deafening. Usato, despite his weakened state, could hear the commotion, the screams echoing the pain in his own body. Driven by a sense of urgency and concern, he pushed himself to a sitting position, the sharp pain in his ribs a stark reminder of his injuries. Slowly, he made his way to the entrance of the hut, peering out into the pandemonium. The sight that greeted him was gruesome: flames danced on the rooftops, and the ground was littered with the fallen. He saw Tribal Chief Thorne, his face a mask of grim determination, barking orders.
"Chief, what is happening outside?" Usato asked, his voice strained.
Thorne turned, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of Usato amidst the chaos. "Usato! My younger brother… Thornek… he has rebelled. Don't come out! Stay where you are. It's too dangerous!" Thorne ordered sternly, his voice filled with a protective urgency.
"Wai…" Usato began, but before he could finish, he saw Syka, Kael, Gorthok, and a younger tribal girl rushing towards his hut, weaving through the horrifying aftermath.
"Usato, where's my grandfather?" Syka cried out, her voice filled with panic.
"He left already," Usato replied, his gaze sweeping over their frantic faces, the backdrop of carnage painting their fear in stark relief. "He urgently ran off with his warriors, regrouping. What about you? What happened?" He noticed a gash on Syka's arm, blood seeping through the torn fabric of her tunic. He also eyed Kael, who stubbornly refused to meet his gaze, and Gorthok, whose respectful demeanor towards him was markedly different from before the banquet.
Syka, catching her breath, explained, "Nothing… I was nearly captured by my granduncle's men. Fortunately, Kael and Gorthok happened to run near my location and helped me escape."
Syka, her eyes darting around at the escalating chaos and the distant screams, grabbed Usato's arm. "We can't stay here," she urged, her voice tight with fear and determination. "We need to help others, Usato. Are you coming with us?"
Kael, his expression still guarded and distrustful, immediately opposed. "Why is he coming with us? He is currently weak and can't fight right now!"
Syka turned to Kael, her gaze filled with disappointment. "This is not the time for us to fight with each other, Kael," she admonished, her voice sharp despite the surrounding turmoil. She then looked back at Usato, her eyes pleading. "Although Usato can't fight at his full strength right now, he can still defend himself, am I right, Usato?"
Usato didn't verbally reply, but a silent determination hardened his gaze. He knew in his heart that even if the entire Evergreen tribe were to fall, he possessed the means to survive. He had Sky, after all.
Sky, he thought urgently, in case of an emergency, create a plan to retreat for me.
A cold, calculating voice echoed in his mind. 'Acknowledged. Initiating emergency retreat protocol. Analyzing current environment and available escape routes. Standby.'
"Let's go," Syka commanded urgently, already moving towards the sounds of struggle. Unsure of what to do in such a chaotic situation, Usato looked at the four young men – Kael, Gorthok, and two other unfamiliar warriors – and Syka, seeking guidance. They exchanged uncertain glances, a silent acknowledgment of their inexperience with such widespread internal conflict. While they were accustomed to skirmishes and hunts, the potential destruction of their tribe and the fight for its very survival was a terrifying new reality.
Usato watched them, a sense of grim necessity settling over him. He shook his head slightly. "First, we need to rescue the survivors," he voiced out, his words cutting through their hesitation. "Separate the wounded from the warriors who can still fight. Then, create a group to resist the rebels and, lastly, secure an area where we can both attack and defend, and also wait for Chief Thorne and his warriors to arrive."
A surprised look flickered across Kael's face, but even he, who often challenged Usato, offered no opposition to the logical steps outlined. Syka nodded decisively. "That's a good plan, Usato," she said, her voice firm. "Let's move. Gorthok, you take point with Elara and secure the wounded. Kael, you and Borin assist with rescuing anyone trapped in the burning huts. Usato and I will try to rally any able-bodied warriors we can find and establish a defensible position near the edge of the clearing." Without further hesitation, they split into their assigned tasks, the urgency of their situation driving them forward.
Hours passed. The small group worked quickly, pulling injured tribesmen from burning huts despite the sporadic attacks from Thornek's men. They gathered about fifty people; twenty could fight, the rest were wounded, old, or children.
They needed a defensible place. They decided on the tribal hall. It sat at the base of a steep, rocky escarpment. The front approach required climbing the difficult terrain, exposing attackers. The back of the hall was protected by the cliff face. It was their best option to wait for Tribal Chief Thorne.