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Chapter One: The Tower of Nepelang
The dense jungle pressed close around me, the humid air thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth and ancient secrets. I clung to the rough stone of the Nepelang Tower, my fingers aching as I pulled myself upward. Vines, moss, and dead leaves clung to the slick surface, and the recent rain made each movement treacherous. But I pressed on.
As an archaeologist and anthropologist, this was my life’s work—unearthing the stories of civilizations long forgotten. The Nepelang people had vanished nearly eight hundred years ago. At least, that was what every text and artifact claimed.
Near the top of the tower, I noticed movement in what appeared to be a window opening. A shadow.
My pulse quickened.
No one was supposed to be here.
Driven by curiosity, I hoisted myself through the opening.
Inside, bathed in golden light from the opposite side of the tower, sat a large woman. Calm. Regal. As if she belonged to the ancient stones themselves.
The moment she saw me, her expression hardened. With astonishing speed, she hurled a spear. It whistled past my ear and struck the wall behind me.
I raised my hands immediately.
She spoke sharply—and my heart nearly stopped.
It was the ancient Nepelang tongue.
Impossible.
I had spent years studying their inscriptions, deciphering fragments of their written language. Yet here it was—alive. Spoken fluently.
She commanded me to follow her. No one was allowed in the tower but her people.
Her people?
As she turned, I noticed something that made my breath catch in my throat—a small yellow tail extending behind her.
I must have stared too long. She spun around, eyes blazing, and shouted that it was forbidden for anyone but her father to look upon it.
I nodded quickly and followed.
We descended into the jungle ruins and emerged into a vast clearing. Dozens of people stood before us. All bore the same yellow tail. And as she approached, they bowed deeply.
She was royalty.
Warriors seized me and bound my hands with vines. Keeping my composure, I knelt and used my toes to scratch into the mud:
I come in peace.
The chief, a towering man holding a bamboo staff, read my message. He questioned how I knew their language. I explained that scholars in the outside world had studied Nepelang markings for centuries.
His face darkened.
He told me they had been cursed—cut off from their ancestors because of their tails. They had hidden themselves away from the world.
Their distrust of outsiders ran deep. Once, a man had come claiming peace, but he sought their sacred “green rocks.” I soon learned these were massive jade stones scattered across their land. Even the chief’s ceremonial stool was carved from polished jade. Many wore small jade stones tied around their ankles.
I assured them I had no desire for their jade and swore to protect their secret.
Still, I was not allowed to leave immediately.
The woman from the tower approached once more.
Her name was Galis.
She would watch over me.
Over the next two days, suspicion softened into curiosity. I ate their food—roots, berries, fish, nuts, roasted lizard meat. The children painted my face. I joined their dances, though I could not yet sing in their language.
Galis remained near me at all times, explaining their customs and traditions.
When the chief finally declared I had proven trustworthy and could return to my world, a strange heaviness filled my chest.
Galis walked with me to the base of the tower where we had first met.
Tears streamed down her face as she embraced me. Then she kissed me.
I could not help but smile at the irony. The woman who had once tried to kill me now held me as if she feared losing me forever.
With one last look, I turned and walked back into the jungle.
Chapter Two: The Arrow in the Jungle
The path toward my truck felt longer than before.
Halfway through the jungle trail, my foot slipped on wet earth. A sharp crack echoed through the trees.
Pain exploded through my ankle.
Before I could recover, the ground beneath me shifted—I had stepped into quicksand.
The more I struggled, the deeper I sank.
Panic surged.
Then suddenly—an arrow shot across my shoulder, a rope tied to its shaft.
“Grab hold!” a voice shouted.
It was Galis.
She had followed me.
With immense effort, I grasped the rope as she pulled. Moments later, two warriors emerged from the trees and joined her, hauling me free from the quicksand.
She had not truly said goodbye.
The warriors revealed they had been sent secretly after her to ensure her safety.
By the time we reached the settlement, fever had begun to overtake me. My broken ankle throbbed violently.
I was treated with herbs and laid in a cool cave to rest.
When I awoke nearly twenty hours later, Galis was asleep beside me—her head resting gently across my stomach. She had been watching over me.
From that moment, something changed between us.
Weeks passed as I healed. Bamboo supports were crafted to help me walk. I began speaking their language fluently. I was no longer treated as an outsider.
I was brother to some. Son to others.
And something more to Galis.
We shared meals. Long conversations. Quiet evenings in the cave. She spoke of her people’s fears of discovery. I spoke of a world she could scarcely imagine.
For the first time in my life, I felt I belonged somewhere completely unexpected.
One evening, the chief summoned me privately.
His tone was serious.
And I knew my life was about to change again.
Chapter Three: The Half-Arm
The chief offered me a place within the royal family.
I was to join with his daughter—Galis’s cousin—who was already married to four husbands. Among the Nepelang ruling families, women chose multiple husbands. It was their tradition.
I was honored.
But my heart belonged to Galis.
That night, I told her of the offer, writing my words into the sandy mud.
She looked at me quietly before speaking.
“Become my half-arm.”
I knew from my studies that this meant a temporary husband under Nepelang tradition.
My confusion gave way to joy.
I agreed.
By custom, I also joined with her cousin as part of royal tradition. The tribe celebrated with songs and dancing. My face was painted differently now—a mark of status. I was treated as royalty for the duration of my stay.
I was shown sacred chambers and hidden treasures of the royal families. Burial rooms beneath the earth where generations rested. Knowledge no artifact in the outside world could ever reveal.
As an archaeologist, I knew I was witnessing living history.
Three months passed.
My ankle healed fully. And with it came the realization that I could not remain forever.
The chief agreed that warriors would escort me halfway back to my truck to ensure the tribe’s secrecy remained intact.
Saying goodbye this time was deeper. Harder.
Galis stood before me, strong yet trembling.
We embraced one final time.
As I walked away from the hidden clearing, I carried more than memories.
I carried love.
I carried loyalty.
And I carried the living truth of a civilization the world believed extinct.
Whatever future awaited me beyond the jungle, I knew one thing with certainty—
I would always have a home in the hearts of the people of Nepelang.
Chapter Four: Echoes Beyond the Jungle
The hum of civilization felt unnatural.
After months in the jungle, the sound of engines, distant radios, and human chatter felt harsh against my senses. I had returned to my research compound near the edge of the rainforest, but my mind remained in the clearing of Nepelang.
I tried to resume normal life.
I cataloged soil samples. Cleaned equipment. Logged field notes.
But I did not write a single word about them.
Not about the tails.
Not about Galis.
Not about the jade.
Some secrets were not meant for academic journals.
Three days after my return, a helicopter circled overhead.
That alone was unusual.
We rarely received air visitors without prior notice.
By afternoon, a convoy of black vehicles rolled into the compound yard.
Out stepped a man I had not seen in nearly a decade.
Dr. Elias Morcant.
Brilliant. Ambitious. Ruthless.
He had once been my academic rival—another archaeologist obsessed with lost civilizations. But unlike me, Morcant was funded by private investors. Corporations. Collectors.
He smiled when he saw me.
“Still chasing ghosts?” he asked casually.
I forced a polite nod.
“What brings you here, Elias?”
He adjusted his glasses and glanced toward the jungle line.
“We picked up something interesting on satellite scans. Unusual mineral concentrations. Dense jade deposits.” He paused. “Massive deposits.”
My blood ran cold.
Green rocks.
He studied my face carefully.
“You look surprised.”
“I am,” I said evenly. “This region has always been geologically unstable.”
He stepped closer.
“You’ve been deep in the jungle these past months. Deeper than your filed reports indicate.”
So they had been watching.
I kept my expression neutral. “Research requires exploration.”
He smiled again, but it did not reach his eyes.
“We’ll be conducting a survey. Strictly professional. Investors are very interested.”
Investors.
That word echoed in my skull like a warning drum.
Morcant’s team began unloading equipment—ground scanners, drones, excavation gear.
Heavy equipment.
They were not here to study.
They were here to extract.
That night, I sat alone on the porch of my quarters, staring at the dark jungle horizon.
Somewhere beyond those trees, Galis slept peacefully, unaware that the outside world was already circling like a predator.
I had promised to protect their secret.
And now the threat had a face.
The next morning, Morcant approached me with a tablet in hand.
“Care to explain this?” he asked.
On the screen was a satellite heat map.
A concentrated mineral bloom.
Directly over the hidden clearing of Nepelang.
My pulse thundered in my ears.
“That area is dangerous,” I said quickly. “Unstable terrain. Quicksand basins.”
He studied me again.
“You’re protective of it.”
“Because I’ve lost people in that region before.”
That part, at least, was true.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“If you’ve found something, Blane… something significant… we could be very wealthy men.”
Wealth.
They would tear the jungle apart stone by stone.
They would not understand what they were destroying.
That evening, I made a decision.
I could not stay here and pretend ignorance.
I packed lightly. Supplies. Medical kit. Field radio.
Under the cover of night, I left the compound and headed back into the jungle.
Back toward Nepelang.
I had to warn them.
Halfway through the first day’s march, I heard something that made my heart stop.
The distant buzz of drones.
They were already scanning.
I moved faster despite the humidity weighing on my lungs.
By dusk, I reached the broken tower.
But something was wrong.
There were fresh footprints near the base.
Boot prints.
Not tribal.
Not mine.
And then I saw it.
A fragment of bright survey tape tied loosely around a vine.
Morcant’s men had been here.
They were closer than I thought.
A shadow moved within the tower window.
My breath caught.
Galis.
She saw me.
But this time, her expression was not relief.
It was fear.
She rushed down to meet me.
“What follows you?” she demanded in her language.
“Men,” I answered quickly. “Hunters of stone.”
Her eyes darkened.
“The green rocks.”
“Yes.”
Within minutes, warriors were gathering. The chief emerged from the trees, staff in hand.
I explained everything.
Satellites. Investors. Extraction.
Silence fell over the clearing.
Then the chief spoke slowly.
“The curse that separated us from our ancestors was meant to protect us from greed. But greed has found us anyway.”
The weight of his words settled heavily in my chest.
Galis stepped forward beside me.
“If they come,” she said firmly, “they will not leave unchanged.”
The warriors lifted their spears in quiet agreement.
For the first time, I realized something terrifying.
This would not remain hidden.
The worlds were about to collide.
And I stood between them.
As night swallowed the jungle once more, drums began to sound softly in the clearing.
Not in celebration.
But in warning.
The age of secrecy was ending.
And the fate of Nepelang would soon be tested.
