It was a bustling afternoon in the markets of Krimagha. The city's central square had become a cacophony of sounds. Hawkers were calling out their goods over the constant murmur of thousands of chatters. The air was thick with the smell of hundreds of fresh foods, all mingling together in an enticing scent.

A small boy made his way past the crowd and stopped in front of a stall laden with stacks of plates, cups, and bowls of different sizes and designs. Some of them were beautiful enough to serve the kings.

"My mother asked for six small bowls," the boy spoke with a soft and slow voice.

The shopkeeper turned in several directions before looking down to see a tiny head pop out. The boy had messy brown hair above a slim and bright face. He was standing on his tiptoes to be seen over the counter.

"Oh Khizo, my child, how is everyone at home?" the shopkeeper asked, gently ruffling the boy's hair.

"Everyone is great," Khizo replied, smiling brightly.

"Good to know," the shopkeeper carefully packed the bowls with a red cloth. "Take this home carefully. Don't bump into anyone or they'll break."

"I will," Khizo replied. He counted six coins from his pouch and handed them to the shopkeeper.

With the package in hand, he took off for home. However, instead of walking carefully with the package, he turned it into a game, darting through the crowded streets of Krimagha.

The city was crisscrossed by narrow cobblestone pathways, each intricately carved with exquisite white designs. Houses flanked either side of the path, all arranged unevenly in a messy layout.

At a crowded time like this, the entire city was out on the streets, pushing their way past each other on the narrow pathways. Khizo dodged past the people, barely avoiding a collision almost a hundred times.

A thousand words entered his ears at the same time. Most of the people were discussing politics about their ruler and the alliance, but Khizo had little care for those talks.

With a sharp turn, he entered the lane leading to his house. However, one look and he knew that something was off. The entire crowd was concentrated at a single point – his house.

By the time he arrived there, he saw an escort of more than twenty soldiers surrounding a man in armour. It was impossible to see the man clearly amidst the soldiers surrounding him.

Following the soldiers was another smaller escort. At its center was another man dressed in emerald green robes. He took a look at Khizo's house and grinned, revealing his fat face marked by a big mole and dirty teeth.

Khizo's eyes turned to the entrance of his house, where he could see a trail of blood leading further. He followed the trail of blood inside the house.

At first glance, nothing seemed amiss about his house. Then he saw the destruction—smashed furniture, broken objects, and patches of blood everywhere. The confusion turned into panic as he followed the trail of blood to the kitchen.

As soon as he entered the kitchen, he let out a scream in horror upon looking at the sight.

His mother was sprawled on the ground with blood seeping from a cut in her throat. Nearby, Khizo's little sister had a gaping wound in her gut. His father lay beside them, multiple stabs all across his body.

Overwhelmed, Khizo's mind started spinning and he collapsed on the ground, right next to the bloodbath of his family.