Legends said that the union of Alcea -- the god of fertility, and Caalam -- the god of strength and victory, gave birth to the first mortals to reside in the lands.

These mortals were of three different castes – the firstborns were the Alphas (α), who were said to have directly inherited Caalam’s blood. It was believed that the land was either blessed or doomed if an Alpha was born in it, for they were destined to be kings and meant to lead their armies to victories; either they were the royal protectors of their dominion or the heartless conquerors of other lands. Their birth was as rare as when the earth spits raging fire, therefore, their numbers were as scarce as that of a wolf pack.

The second caste were the betas (β)– it was believed that their birth was the proof of balance between the two gods. Their numbers were as many as the stars in the night sky. With their diligent hands, the earth will prosper with harvest and their generations will repopulate the lands, help builds cities and nations for their kings and their kings’ descendants.

The last and the rarest were the Omegas (Ω) – who were said to be born only after every thirty dozen moons. It was believed that they were the direct incarnations of Alcea himself, and through their wombs, guarantee the birth of new kings or conquerors. Thus, most royalties sought after them persistently to ensure the birth of their heirs and the preservation of their bloodline. Having the presence of an omega alongside a ruler was a custom throughout the continents, for it was strongly believed it will secure the prosperity of a kingdom. An omega, as a consort, also symbolizes power and exalted position.

The same conviction was held by Barduc, the Dha’at of the Vhukkan tribe from the North. An Alpha that seemed to be born of earth and ember, for his skin was as dark as wood dust, and his mane was like the burning fury of a volcano. At the moment, he sat imperiously on his grand, black steed, observing the atrocity surrounding him with smug approval. His men had pillaged the village of Malleac -- a small tribe of pale-skinned people with metallic blond hair -- secluded at the foot of the mountain of Suhra.

The cacophony of cries of terror, the cracking of burning woods and hays as the village cottages collapsed to the ground, echoed up to the indigo sky while the setting sun peeked through the distant valley.

Despite the vain attempt for victory, the men of the tribe fought bravely against the Vhukks to protect their family and modest property. Most of them had already lost their lives brutally through the khopesh and axes of the enemy. The fertile soil was muddied with blood, shed from their mutilated corpses.

Those who remained standing, but otherwise wounded and exhausted, kept swinging their sickles and pitchforks desperately against the Vhukkan warriors. Two of them were Eden and Cyras, the sons of the late chief of Malleac.

Eden, a young man who had just come of age, panted in exhaustion as he brandished a pitchfork against the Vhukks to shield the women and children cowering behind him. His long, pale blond hair had been severely disheveled from its knot and braids. His alabaster skin and his robe were spattered with blood and mud. Next to him was his older brother, Cyras. He was a taller young man with shorter hair of the same color, albeit with sharper features but similar fierce blue eyes. On his left cheek was a bleeding gash that the enemy inflicted on him earlier. He wielded a spear threateningly against the Vhukkan horsemen circling them.

Then, these horsemen finally halted their march and urged their horses to the side to give way to their approaching Dha’at.

Barduc, the Vhukkan Alpha ruler and feared conqueror of many lands in the North, came forward with his steed in imperious trot. His rich, red mane was streaked with black strands and adorned with braids and beads of earthy colors. His hulking, muscular frame was clothed in leather hides and pelts, saved for his bare tattooed biceps. Wolf fang necklaces hung closely around his neck. Thick, gray furs caped his broad shoulders. On his back stood out the hilt of a bloody battle-axe, and to his sides strapped a khopesh and a couple of ornate daggers. The sharp glare of his russet-colored orbs was emphasized more by the coal and silver paint around his eyes. His dominant presence undoubtedly that of an Alpha; the king of the Vhukks!

“You have something that we seek,” Barduc announced in a deep, booming voice.

Cyras stepped forward, pointing the sharp end of the spear at the Alpha in an attempt to keep him at bay. Barduc grabbed the khopesh from his side and swiftly sliced the spear in its wooden shaft. The metal spearhead dropped heavily to the ground with a quiet thud. Cyras stood stunned, holding the wooden pole that was now useless with a slashed end. But he obstinately remained standing where he was and then decided to hold the wooden staff like a sword. The Vhukkan horsemen only laughed at him mockingly in response.

“You have already taken everything from us. What else do you want?!" Cyras barked.

The Vhukkan Alpha and his men took their time to silently scrutinize them with amusement; cottages continued to burn and collapse around them; escaping livestock bleated in distress from the distance.

“I could smell an Omega scent from all over this village,” Barduc declared. “I’ve been looking all over the continent to find the one who will give birth to my heir.”

A different degree of fear suddenly reflected in Cyras’s eyes that failed to escape the Dha'at's attention.

“You are mistaken,” Cyras replied guardedly, “There is no such person here!”

“I am an Alpha, boy,” Barduc scoffed. “My senses could make no mistake. Surrender the Omega now, or more blood will shed.”

One of the Vhukks stepped forward with a crying Malleac woman whom he held tightly by the arm and pressed a blade against her throat. A slight cut caused a bead of blood to form on her pale skin. She looked at Cyras and Eden silently with teary, pleading eyes.

“You monsters!” Cyras was about to lunge towards the said Vhuk when Eden suddenly stepped forward and grabbed him by the arm, stopping him in his tracks. Cyras turned and met his brother’s meaningful gaze, deciphering an unspoken message he knew he wouldn’t like. Eden turned away from his brother and faced the Alpha.

“Understood. We will give you what you seek,” Eden declared.

“Eden, NO!” Cyras protested, eyeing his brother incredulously.

Eden craned over his shoulder and looked at his brother with a sad smile. “There’s no other choice, Cyras. There are already so few of us. I cannot afford any of you to lose their lives pointlessly just for my sake.”

Cyras made several more noises of protest but Eden ignored him and stepped forward in front of the Vhukkan King.

“We will give you what you seek, Alpha,” Eden pulled a dagger from his belt and pointed its sharp end at his own neck. “But if you hurt any more of my tribe, I will make sure you will never have it.”

Barduc could not help but grin, flashing his sharp canine in approval, amused by the foolish boldness of the young Malleac who just revealed himself as the Omega. Then he raised a hand to signal at the Vhuk who held the captive Malleac woman. He drew the knife away from her neck and shoved her forward unceremoniously, almost causing her to trip. She scampered towards Cyras and sobbed in his arms.

The Vhukkan king reached out an inviting hand towards Eden. But the latter remained where he was, shooting death glares at him, without pulling the blade away from his own neck.

“Before everything else, I want you to give me your word,” Eden demanded with determination. “Swear it, in the name of the god of victory, Caalam and the god of fertility, Alcea, that you shall not inflict any more harm on the people of Malleac ever again and that you shall leave them in peace and liberty from today until the rest of your days. SWEAR IT! For if you break this oath, the gods shall curse you, your blood, and your people into eternal damnation. SWEAR IT!!!”

The Vhukkan warriors glanced at each other in disapproval. An oath, especially that of an Alpha king, under the gods’ names, was sacred and indissoluble even from the king himself. It was heavily believed that such an oath was inherently similar to a curse to the one who fails to keep it. Mere words but they carry such effective and transcendental consequences. To them, it was insolence for an Omega like Eden to make such demands from their king. At least in their tribe, such rights were not acknowledged.

A Vhuk leaned towards Barduc to respectfully suggest refusing the demands, but the Alpha raised his hand to silence him.

The Vhukkan King urged his steed into a slow trot, circling Eden while he leered down at him. “I like you already, Omega. You got guts and strong spirits; a perfect dam for my future sons.”

Eden’s silent glare followed him around.

“You have my word, as the king of the Vhukks,” Barduc added which earned disapproving murmurs from his horsemen. “I shall spare the lives and freedom of your people… if you bestow yourself to me as my loyal and obedient mate, and give birth to my heirs, I swear it in the name of the god of victory, Caalam, and the god of fertility, Alcea, that if you fail to attend these obligations to me…" The Alpha king halted his steed in front of Eden and glared back down at him with certainty, “…Your people will suffer in ways worse than death.”

Some of the Vhukkan horsemen smirked in satisfaction.

Eden failed to stop himself from trembling. Barduc’s piercing gaze rendered him helpless and weak, like invisible tendrils of powerful force wrapping around him, taking hold of his body and spirit. This must be the true power of an Alpha. Although the logical part of him despised this conqueror, the other part of him could not help but be drawn to him and submit to his will.

Eden reluctantly pulled the blade away from himself and dropped it to the ground.

“No! Eden, you don’t have to do this!” Cyras pleaded desperately.

Eden looked at his brother with a resigned expression, "Cyras, you're the new Chief now. Please, look after our people.”

Barduc reached out his hand again and this time, Eden took it. He pulled Eden up to sit in front of him on his steed. The Alpha howled a tribal war cry for the last time. The other Vhukkan warriors mirrored it with their own, emphasized by raising their weapons in the air. Then the conqueror urged his steed forward and began leading his men out of the burned-down village.

Cyras collapsed on his knees in misery and tears. From the distance, he saw his brother gave him a sorrowful glance for the last time as the Alpha carried him away. The cacophony of victorious chant, the thundering clops of hooves and piercing brays, echoed in the cold air of the twilight. The Vhukks swiftly rode into the distant dim horizon of the wilderness, leaving Cyras behind, grieving together with the last survivors of the Malleac tribe.

…to be continued.