in Short Fiction

The Barbarians

Our is the last tribe that exists. They killed our forefathers. They were uncivilised then. That’s their excuse. It’s a flimsy excuse. They had art, just like we did when they came into our lands. They had language, just like we did when they came into our villages. And they had tools, just like we did, when they came into our homes. Except their tools were made of blood-thirsty stones, and ours were made of peaceful magic. Their bloodlust won. They consumed and destroyed and moved on until almost all of our forefathers were gone. Sapiens are nothing more than a virus. And one day, our Neanderthal tribe will avenge our forefathers, and take back our part of the world! But until that day, we are patient. And we rebuild. And we re-learn our lost magic.

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