THE LAST WITNESS

Chapter 1: The Children of Íneídinekrós

-Where is my son? -a mother asked amidst the crowd gathered around the council of elders.

The meeting had summoned ten citizens from each of the fifty strongest tribes. They had come together due to urgent circumstances, as many children had been disappearing in the middle of the night. No matter how hard the parents searched, they found no traces on the plaster walls or signs of struggle. They only saw the door wide open.

-We know how hard it is to lose a child in this way -began the eldest of the council-. My grandson was caught up in this wave of abductions. The recent war between two cities has devastated us as small city-states. Even so, the king has requested soldiers to be assigned for the search. We will not let our society fall.

-The abductions are happening in four other distant cities -said another council member.

-They've reported sightings near the forest of... near the beach of... A fisherman friend told me he saw figures moving in the darkness at midnight -added a farmer.

The discussions and plans of action continued as expected: many ideas, but few actions. Among the crowd was an eight-year-old boy named Palestís. At such a young age, he had already begun his military training. Not even that strict training could keep him from feeling fear as he watched his friends being abducted one by one.

-Mom -he said to a woman shouting insults at the parliament. Ignored, he tugged firmly on her tunic.

-What do you want, Palestís? -she asked, irritated.

-I don't want to be taken -he said, his hands trembling.

-Neither do I -she said, stroking his head with a bit of affection-. That's why we're fighting, so they'll heed our pleas.

-Let's go home, son -said his grandfather, who had just arrived-. Let your mother stay here and tell us later how the meeting ended.

The boy nodded and said goodbye to his mother. She gave him a light hug and turned back to the council. His grandfather took him by the hand to lead him away from the agitated crowd.

As they descended the plaza stairs and reached the meadow, the smell of grass and the starry sky calmed the boy. Seeing this, his grandfather sat on the ground and gestured for him to do the same. Palestís sat and closed his eyes. He prayed to the gods that all the children would be safe and return home soon.

A slight tremor shook the boy and his grandfather, and after that, an overwhelming fatigue made it difficult for them to breathe. When he opened his eyes, Palestís saw a man before him, clad in an entirely black chiton with a patch over his left eye. His grandfather seemed terrified, but Palestís let out a small laugh at the sight of the man wearing a peplos, typically women's clothing.

-Thanatos? -his grandfather asked-. Have you come for me?

The pressure in the air slowly faded until it was no longer felt.

-I don't know who that is -said the man with a smile-. I'm only here for the meeting about the missing children.

As he stared intently at Palestís, he approached him. Up close, the boy noticed that the man's only visible eye was completely white with a strange glow.

-You're very lucky to still be here, boy. I'll only give you one piece of advice for when you need it most. I know you'll need it. In the darkness, remember that friends often become thieves of our time.

Having said this, he headed toward the meeting at the agora, blending into the crowd. When Palestís looked at his grandfather, he noticed that he was already standing.

-Let's go home; the night might trap us. If we stay in this open field, I feel something else could happen.

Palestís nodded, and they began their journey. He, too, felt something might happen if they stayed there. The silence of the night unsettled him, as if the immense darkness of the forest bordering the field was watching him. They walked for half an hour until they reached the farmlands, where his father worked when not at war. As they walked through the wheat fields, Palestís heard a familiar voice calling to him: