Let it be known by all kingdoms and empires and dynasties and towns the truth about the priests of the Temple of Destiny: They are not a class of apolitical priests as they make themselves known to the seven winds and under the name of all the entities. The truth is that they are a vile organization, full of spies who pretend to be faithful to a master, but that are, in fact, making a life out of double crosses and betrayals. They are unscrupulous mercenaries, assassins trained in the most perverse ways ever imagined. They are the murderers of those who do not pay well. They are double, triple agents, with as many facets as there are interests in the world, under the world and above the world.

Do not be misled by their wise words and polite manners. That is how they keep their cover. With the masks of Good Samaritans, Lords of Wisdom; Of men and women who act for Fate and nothing else, when, in truth, they are nothing but puppets of money and power.

Let it be known by everyone that Dan Mittraelischt was the one who deserted to announce such truth. This is the name of the one who does not fear death or any other punishments. The one who will pay the price with blood, as a small atonement for his sins.

Pamphlet found in different regions of the world

*

Ohana is alone, sitting in a tent in a patch of land teeming with bushes and alders.

She had been brought to those lands after identifying herself to the ogres who had surrounded her near the magical convergence. Alongside Dan, she was escorted and, upon arriving at the place where a huge caravan of cars, horses and tents were set up, they parted ways, each following the direction of their particular interests.

Now, she is alone in a tent, awaiting the arrival of her host.

Her hands do not shake and her mind is not disturbed. She expected to feel some nervousness, but, apparently, whether because of the number of problems she had faced recently or because of the years of practice with similar situations, Ohana’s body would not express negative signs in anticipation for a meeting with an authority figure. At least, that is what she thought would happen until she met, for the first time in her life, the leader of the Maetar Ogres.

His figure is approximately three meters tall. From where he was, Ohana would mistake him for a giant trying to enter the tent. She, who had seen several ogres around the Great Forest, knew that this was not the natural height for their species. And, looking into the red eyes of the ogre that gets close to her, it is clear that the reason he is taller and evidently stronger than the others is magic.

-Am I in the presence of Graer Maetar? – She asks, in a polite tone.

-Yes. – He answers. His eyes show caution. His voice is deep and seems to come out of the bottom of a well.

In front of Ohana is an ogre whose body emanates constant magic. Its strength seems to overflow because of the energy it generates naturally. His strong arms and torso are covered in red tattoos, the same shade as his eyes, covering the muscles and scars from past battles.

Ohana knows the story of the great Graer Maetar very well. The last great ogre warrior.

-I have a message from the Great Forest. – She announces, bowing her head.

-Speak normally. I am not a leader, but a simple warrior, and the respect among equals is good enough for me. The ogres who escorted you are volunteers and inhabitants of a village that could not even survive in this terrible environment.

-I see... - She nods an agreement and obeys a gesture from him, sitting in the floor of the tent as he did the same. – So, this caravan really belongs to the villagers at the End of the World?

-Villagers of the End of the World... – He reflects for a moment. – Yes, we are. The end of the world is getting closer to civilization, so our village had to do the same. We have moved closer to civilized nations, and however much we wish to stay far away, this will no longer be possible.

-If I may... - She starts and, after a second, continues: - I have two messages to deliver. One for the leader of the ogres and one for the village leader. Am I right to assume that both individuals are the same...?

Rather than feigning modesty, Graer followed the ogre custom: To be Honest.

-In the presence of outsiders, I'm the closest thing to a leader here. You can deliver the message to me and I will be responsible for passing it on to the other representatives of our communities.

The dryad nods and begins her recital. In a few words, she communicates the arrival of the individual who would initiate the Prophecy of the End and also conveyed the message of the Mother Nymph who, as an Oracle, wanted all the main nations of the continent to be warned about the times that have begun.

Graer calmly nods after hearing the message.

-I must admit: I'm surprised to hear that Nida is still so dedicated to her visions. It is admirable.

-I’m sorry, but I don't know if I understand what you mean.

-Your orders were to inform the capitals of the kingdoms and our village, am I right?

-Yes.

-That means that the entire continent has been informed. And, unless my ignorance has increased with the age, I find myself unable to see any advantage the Oracle would gain in spreading such a message. In reality, only damage should be done, considering that such information would hasten the troops already so eager to battle for the lands that are on that side of the world.

The dryad nods and they both remain silent for a few moments – long enough for her to understand that she can continue.

-I have a second message. A message that must be delivered to an ogre from the tribe of Maetar. - She struggles to remember what was ordered. – A message to the tribe of ogres who have no home.

The face of the ogre in front of her changes.

-I am Graer Maetar, an elder of the Maetar tribe. The last one alive. Who gave you such a message?

-I wasn't told. I don't know who commissioned me to deliver the message. However, the message itself has signs of authorship in it.

Graer does not hide his dissatisfaction with the answer. His gaze narrows and he seem about to get up, however, at the last moment he stops and decides to remain seated. His red eyes gleam in the dryad's direction.

-Very well, dryad. You may deliver the message.

She takes a deep breath and, knowing the content of the message, she feels her heart speed up. Nervousness finally caught up to her.

-The message says: “Big Brother, there is a land in Fiandel that was promised to us by the Crown Prince and approved by the Great King Njalmar. It is the payment for a promise between the human prince and an ogre, descendant of the Maetar tribe. A land for our tribe, independent and that only needs to make a non-aggression pact with Fiandel. A small land, but ours. A new home.

Graer, with his red eyes and dark skin, clenches his fists. His naturally strict facial features struggle not to show emotion.

Ohana continues.

“A promise made by the king and the prince, but which cannot be collected by our brother. Barsen, the pledge holder, recently passed away, but he knows his tribe is still alive. He asks Graer Maetar to rally his tribe and demand the payment. The following words should be delivered to Fiandel's monarchs: "Remember Rendall." This is the key to the promise, the word of authority so that the payment can be received. You must demand the payment in the name of our brother, who no longer lives. It is the payment for a contract sealed with blood and sweat. This is Barsen Maetar's last wish.”

*

Dan's face masks the feeling inside him with an open smile. His eyes scan the caravan and his steps are quick towards the carriages and groups placed at the back of the retinue.

Sensing what might happen in the next few hours, he approaches a larger carriage and leaves his “cane” hidden, saying goodbye to it. His leg, despite aching intensely, would have to support the weight of his body in the next few hours, as he had an urgent commitment, in which he could not demonstrate fragility.

From all sides he sees creatures of different races and cultures. His eyes linger for a moment on the families grouped in smaller numbers, as if hidden under the protection of the great tribes. The vision bothers him and his smile falters for a moment and for a moment only, since, soon enough, his eyes find what he was looking for:

-Milrem. - He calls. – You can't imagine how long I've been looking for you.

The elf in white clothes and black hair, with blue eyes and calm gaze does not seem surprised by his presence.

-Dan Mittraelischt. To what do I owe the honor of such an encounter?

-Where is the Temple of Destiny?

Milrem's gaze narrows.

-The building was abandoned in the evacuation.

Dan keeps smiling. Although his insides are in turmoil and his true desire is to grab the elf by the collar and demand that he stops wasting his time, he chooses to reply, in the same calm, casual tone:

-We both know that the Temple of Destiny is where the Messenger of Nature is. - Faced with the silence of the other, he continues: - Take me to Draegar.

-Master Draegar. – The elf mumbles.

-Where is he?

The elf sighs and folds his arms, putting his hands inside the sleeves of his kimono.

-Is it time already?

-I wouldn't be here if it weren't. – Dan answers, glancing to his left. In the corner of his eye, he sees the image of Ohana walking towards him. – Stay close to me and don't say a word. It won't be just Draegar who will have problems if you try to flee or attack me.

The elf wants to react. He wants to scream and ask for help. However, he would not do any of those things. Long ago he saw how Dan escaped the temple and the obstacles he destroyed to do so. Milrem did not want to become one of the destroyed obstacles.

Dan heads over to Ohana, who sees the other's intention not to allow her to approach. The dryad, however, recognizes in the elf with whom Dan spoke the gestures and posture of a member of one of the temples that worshiped magic.

-My mission here is done. – The dryad announces. – I need to think about how to head back home now. Judging by the way this caravan is going, the best idea seems to be to follow them as much as possible and, when the timing is right, I intend to go to Naeva. This should keep us away from the most dangerous magical convergences and wild creatures.

-It's a good idea. – The human decides to let his smile dissipate. - I wish you good luck on your return.

-What? - The lack of a smile on his face worries her. - I thought we'd go back together.

-I won't be able to go with the caravan. It's even better if you pretend you don't know me from now on. We arrived together, but everyone knows that dryads are not allies of humans.

-I don’t understand. – She notices how he hides his face from the elf, facing her and smiling in a more sincere way. In his eyes, the dryad recognizes the affection of a friend who believe to say goodbye for good.

-It is time for me to do what brought me here. I need to take care of a few problems between us humans. You see, humans don't know how to live as a family. Not like you and your forest learned so long ago, anyway. For your own sake, I hope we don't see each other again. Thank you for accepting my company and for everything you've done.

He nods. Confused and with no idea how to react, Ohana just accepts the greeting and watches the human walk away – not without first grabbing the elf by the arm and pushing him along.

Dan's leg moves with effort and he seems to use all his willpower not to limp.

Ohana looks around and again at her friend, who has just said goodbye.

Her mission was accomplished.

But, at her core, she felt that there was still something to be done.

*

Graer Maetar reunites with his brothers and sisters.

The message about the boy of the Prophecy of the End had already been delivered, but, among the ogres of the uninhabited lands, that was not the most important news.

-A promise was made to one of our own. – Graer announces to all his companions. He knows they consider him a leader, despite his insistence on not accepting the title. – Ironic, don't you think? After all, I was the one who ordered the militias to disband and the wars to end. It was I who hid at the end of the world and remained in search of oblivion between convergences and desolated lands. Still, my name was the one called by a brother who wants to demand the payment for a promise.

Next to Graer is Cannis Maetar. One of the leaders and, in everyone's eyes, the one who should succeed Graer after his death. She has green eyes and protruding lower teeth, which appear from the sides of her mouth like fangs.

Her voice is firm as she speaks.

-The tradition is clear. A promise has been made and cannot be collected by the holder. Barsen was known as a respected commander in Fiandel and has exchanged messages with our village in the past.

-Yes. - Says another ogre, among those gathered. – He was one of the most prominent figures and one of the few brothers truly active in the civilized realms.

-I understand what you mean. – Graer waves. - And I have no doubt that his word is valuable. This is not a meeting to decide whether to believe in him or not. It is not even a meeting to decide whether it is right or wrong to listen to our brother's request.

-So, what are we doing standing here? – Cannis asks. – It's obvious what we should do, isn't it?

-The promise was delivered to me. – Graer replies. – Only I have the obligation to demand payment. You guys-

-We'll follow Big Brother! - Cannis says, irritated. The others approve her words. - Or would we stay at the end of the world, waiting like children for our father to find a home for us?

-Nothing is certain. The debt may not be paid. It's a big debt.

-It's also a big hope. – She answers, immediately. – Much more than we had in this land that cannot be cultivated and where no animal survives. Besides, we've already had to leave our village. The Village at End of the World has become a bunch of nomads looking for a place where they can find peace. What difference does it make if we're going to do it here or on the other continent?

Graer sighs, feeling the weariness of his age. He had been young, he would have roared alongside the twenty ogres who gathered there, gleeful in anticipation of an adventure and its possible rewards.

Time, however, had taught him to be pessimistic. He didn't want to leave.

Unfortunately, there is no other option. A promise had to be paid.

And he had to lead those kids to safety. Even if payment was not guaranteed, he needed to ensure that the last ogres of the Maetar tribe would survive the shock of an often-disappointing reality.

*

*

Final Note – Why I decided to stop writing “The Other World”

As I had already said on a previous occasion, my intention was always to write the best story possible, materializing, in the form of a novel, the story that I myself always wanted to read.

However, that's not what happened. The rush of the daily life, the need to keep a schedule and, above all, the impossibility of planning my next steps in this story well in advance allowed a situation where I see myself writing something that is not worthy of being continued. I still believe in the main premise and – believe it or not – there is still a lot of this story to be told. However, right now, it just feels like I'm destroying what I've idealized myself and, little by little, I feel like I'm killing my wish to write – which is one of the few things that really cheers me up in life.

There are, of course, many other competing reasons for my decision to stop (in a nutshell: Depressive crises, need to find a new job during the pandemic, successive creative blocks, among other stuff), but it is not my intention to stop writing forever. In fact, what I intend to do is to keep writing, without commitment and without publishing, until I have the first draft completely finished, to then review and translate everything carefully before posting it. This way, I may be able to put out the story I dreamed of writing from the start.

As a small apology, I plan to make the story available to read for at least 30 days so that those who are interested can finish reading the story up to this point. I know how frustrating it is to realize that a story we've dedicated our time to read is left unfinished, but, at the same time, I also know the frustration of realizing that a story took even more time to become a mere weekly protocol of an author who is no longer able to say anything that matters.

So, I apologize and hope that everyone can understand my decision.

I leave it here the promise that I will return with this story someday.

One more thing: I don't intend to return until 2024 (at least) and at that point the story may have another name, better suited to the entire journey.

That is all.

I wanted to thank everyone who have made it this far.

See you soon

Lucas Alves Serjento