Book 1: Chapter 7 – Hope

"That… That's impossible!" Jabari's voice trembled, raw with disbelief. His heart pounded in his chest as he refused to accept what he had just heard.

"Once more! Just try it one more time!" His hands shook as he grabbed Inayah's wrist and pressed her palm firmly against the crystal.

Nothing.

The crystal remained lifeless, as cold and unyielding as the reality he refused to face.

A slow, mocking chuckle filled the air.

"Stop wasting time and get the hell off my stage, you filthy little rats!" The old woman sneered, her wrinkled face twisting with cruel delight.

The crowd stirred. Murmurs rippled through the spectators, each whisper reinforcing what everyone but Jabari was struggling to accept – Inayah had failed.

"No..." Jabari whispered, shaking his head as he turned desperately to the invigilator. "It's the crystal! It…

It must be broken! Is there another one?!"

"The crystal's working perfectly," Hadiza shot back, her smirk widening. "You just refuse to accept the truth."

"Then how do you explain the glow? The shaking?!" Jabari snapped, his voice rising. "That little girl before barely caused a flicker! How do you explain that?!"

Hadiza opened her mouth to deliver another smug retort, but before she could, a new voice rang through the air.

Calm. Commanding. Mesmerising.

"Aten, you try it."

A hush fell over the crowd.

The voice belonged to a woman who had remained silent until now – a woman whose presence alone commanded attention. She sat gracefully between her guards, her emerald-green eyes locked onto the scene before her.

"Yes, Your Highness."

The hooded man at her side stepped forward. His movements were deliberate, effortless, the quiet authority of someone who had nothing to prove.

As all eyes fixated on him, Aten approached the crystal, his expression unreadable.

With one smooth motion, he placed his large, sun-kissed hand atop the testing device.

The reaction was immediate.

A blinding azure light erupted from the crystal, illuminating the entire stage. Gasps of awe spread like wildfire through the crowd. Some recoiled. Others stood frozen, overwhelmed by what they were witnessing.

A Mage.

A real Mage.

Most had only heard stories – legends of those blessed by the heavens with supernatural power. Many had dismissed such tales as myths.

But now, before their very eyes, stood a living, breathing Mage.

A few among the crowd felt their knees grow weak, a primal urge rising within them to bow – to prostrate themselves before such an existence.

Then, her voice rang out once more.

"I'm sorry, child," the princess said, her tone carrying neither mockery nor pity, only calm certainty. "But it appears your sister does not have the aptitude required to become a Mage."

Jabari's breath caught in his throat. For a moment, he had held on to the hope that the crystal had been faulty. That there had been a mistake. That fate had not been so cruel.

But now?

Now, he had no choice but to accept it.

His dream – their dream – had been placed right before his eyes... only to be ripped away at the very last second.

His throat felt dry. His voice was barely above a whisper.

"I see. Thank you."

Hadiza, sensing an opportunity to twist the dagger deeper, opened her mouth to deliver one final insult.

"Now get off my stage and stop polluting our-"

The words died in her throat.

A sharp, gleaming blade was now pressed against her neck.

Cold. Unyielding.

The princess's second guard – who had moved so quickly that no one had seen him draw his weapon – stood mere inches from the invigilator, his voice smooth and impassive.

"You are never to interrupt when Her Highness is speaking."

The silence that followed was deafening.

The invigilator trembled, her arrogance crumbling under the weight of the blade resting against her skin. She dared not even breathe.

Then, as if none of the tension unfolding around her concerned her in the slightest, the princess turned to Jabari, her emerald eyes meeting his with a quiet intensity.

"If you wish," she said, her voice soft but unwavering, "you may come with me to my residence. I might be able to help with your sister's condition."

A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd. Jealousy, awe, and disbelief mingled in the air.

Every man present envied Jabari at that moment. Every woman was enraptured by the princess's beauty and grace. Yet the boy at the centre of it all stood frozen, speechless.

Jabari stared into her striking green eyes, searching for deception, for hidden motives. His instincts screamed that nothing in this world came for free – especially not kindness from those who lived in the noble districts.

A helpless sigh escaped his lips.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "But I can't afford your help."

He wanted to say yes. He needed to say yes.

But nobles didn't help slum rats like them, not for free!

And as brazen as he could be with others, he didn't dare lie to her – not when one of her guards was a true Mage and the other was clearly a seasoned killer.

The princess smiled. A smile so radiant, so effortlessly enchanting, that even those simply watching felt their hearts stir.

"There's no need to worry," she said. "I do not require payment."

Jabari was speechless. This was not how the nobles of the main settlement acted.

He knew firsthand how they saw people like him – how they loathed even breathing the same air as slum-dwellers.

He should have been suspicious. He should have walked away.

But the reality was, he had no options left.

He had already thrown caution to the wind standing up to Hadiza. He had nowhere else to turn.

This may well be the only chance he had to save Inayah.

He swallowed his doubts.

"Okay." He exhaled. "Thank you, then."

The princess inclined her head slightly before turning her attention back to the invigilator.

"Lady Hadiza," she said, her tone regal and unbothered, "we'll be taking our leave."

Hadiza was still too shaken by the blade at her throat to respond.

Not that it mattered. The princess had already stood, her guards falling into step behind her.

She moved with the effortless grace of someone who expected to be obeyed.

Jabari and Inayah remained frozen in place, still reeling from everything that had just transpired.

Then, the princess stopped.

Glancing over her shoulder, she tilted her head slightly, amusement flickering in her eyes.

"Well?" she asked. "Are you coming?"

Under the envious gazes of the crowd, Jabari adjusted his grip on Inayah and carried her on his back, following behind the princess and her two guards.

Not a single word was exchanged between them during the journey.

Jabari and Inayah trailed a few steps behind, their minds racing, still struggling to process everything that had transpired.

It all felt unreal.

Neither of them had the presence of mind to admire the breathtaking cityscape unfolding around them. The slums were all they had ever known – cramped alleyways, crumbling buildings, and the constant stench of desperation lingering in the air. But here, in the heart of the noble district, the roads were smooth and polished, the buildings grand and pristine, and the very air felt cleaner.

Yet none of that mattered.

Jabari's focus remained locked on the three strangers leading the way, his body tense, his mind on high alert.

He didn't trust them.

How could he?

Every instinct screamed at him to be ready – to run the moment anything felt off. But the further they walked, the more he realised that, despite his paranoia, nothing was happening. No traps. No ambushes. Just quiet, steady steps toward an unknown fate.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the mysterious woman came to a stop.

"Here we are," she said, pushing open the door to a two-story building.

Jabari hesitated at the threshold.

Peering inside, he saw a long, winding corridor with highly polished wooden floors and walls adorned with exquisite paintings. The air smelled of fresh herbs and burning incense – foreign and unfamiliar.

But instead of stepping in, Jabari took a slow step back, widening the space between them, ensuring that all three strangers remained firmly within his line of sight.

His voice was low, cautious. "Why are you helping us? What do you want?"

There was nothing he wouldn't do to save his sister. Nothing!

But stepping into an enclosed space, outnumbered and outmatched, carrying his defenceless sister, set every nerve in his body on edge.

He wouldn't move until they gave him a reason.

"IMPUDENT BR—"

The scimitar-wielding guard moved to teach the teen who dared to question the motives of his princess a lesson.

But the woman raised her hand, a silent command that stopped him mid-motion.

Jabari had already leapt back instinctively, putting an extra few meters of space between them, his muscles coiled, ready to flee.

The woman met his wary gaze, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she spoke.

"My name is Heba Khaldun, Princess of the Khaldun Tribe."

The name meant nothing to Jabari. He remained silent, his face carefully neutral.

Heba studied him for a moment before explaining, her voice patient.

"There are hundreds, if not thousands, of tribes spread across Ulo. Most of them, like the Umeme Tribe you belong to, are minor tribes. But there are six that stand above the rest – the Major Tribes of Ulo.

My Khaldun Tribe is one of them!"

Jabari stiffened slightly.

He had no formal education. Most of what he knew about the world came from scraps of overheard conversations in the slums. He knew that their nation was called Ulo and that they lived in the slums of the Umeme Tribe.

But the Six Major Tribes? He had only ever heard whispers. Rumours. Still, it was nothing that had ever mattered to his survival.

Heba's eyes flickered with mild amusement as she took in his expression.

"Was there something else you didn't understand?" she asked.

Jabari shook his head, his wariness deepening. "I understand all that. The thing I don't understand, though, is why someone with your status is willing to help people like us."

Nobles did not help slum rats.

They stepped on them. They crushed them.

Heba, however, remained perfectly composed.

"I left my tribe to travel through Ulo as a nomadic doctor of sorts," she explained, her tone even. "I provide medical support to those who don't have access to it. It also allows me to experience more of Ulo outside my small corner of it."

She met his gaze. "So, while I can't promise anything, I can at least try to help your sister with her illness."

Jabari didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied her. Deeply.

Her radiant green eyes held no deception. No malice. No hidden agenda that he could discern.

But could he really trust her?

His grip tightened on Inayah's small frame, feeling the slight tremble in her body.

He exhaled slowly. "What do you think, Yah-Yah?"

It was her life. She deserved a say in this.

"I trust you," Inayah whispered hesitantly.

Jabari's heart clenched.

Those three words – simple and innocent – felt heavier than anything he had ever carried.

Heba and her guards remained perfectly still, their patience unwavering. They weren't forcing him. They weren't rushing him. The decision was his.

Jabari took one last deep breath, forcing down the uncertainty clawing at his chest. Then, he lifted his head and met Heba's gaze. "Please help my sister."

"I'll try," the princess replied, her voice calm but laced with quiet resolve.

Then, without another word, she stepped inside, her guards following closely behind.

Jabari took a slow, steadying breath, forcing himself to push past the unease curling in his gut. His instincts still screamed at him to be cautious, but this was the only chance Inayah had.

Adjusting his grip on his sister, he followed.

Under different circumstances, both he and Inayah would have been in awe of the house's lavish interior – the paintings that adorned the walls, the intricate carvings on the furniture, the sheer wealth radiating from every detail.

But right now?

None of it mattered. Their thoughts were consumed by something far greater.

For so long, Inayah's sickness had felt inevitable – an unshakable weight pressing down on them, impossible to escape. But now…

Now, there was a flicker of light at the end of the tunnel. Distant. Faint. But light, nonetheless.

Jabari carried Inayah down the corridor, following Heba until they reached a room at the very end.

Inside, a large, padded table stood at the centre. It was man-sized, covered in pristine white fabric, with a face-sized hole at the top – clearly meant for medical use.

Heba gestured toward it. "Hop on."

Then, with a small chuckle, she added, "Ah, where are my manners? I just realised, I never got your names."

Jabari hesitated for only a second before answering. "I'm Jabari, and this is my little sister, Inayah."

He crouched beside the table, allowing Inayah to slide off his back.

Heba smiled gently. "Well, Inayah, if you want to lie back and relax, I'm just going to do a quick examination. Nothing to worry about."

Turning her head slightly, Inayah looked at Jabari, searching his face for reassurance.

In response, he gave her a firm nod.

Heba moved with quiet efficiency. She began by taking Inayah's pulse, her fingers cool but gentle against her skin. Then, she pressed along various points on her body – her arms, her abdomen, her back – checking for anything abnormal.

Jabari watched her every movement with hawk-like intensity, his stomach coiling tighter with each second that passed.

And then-

A slight crease formed between Heba's brows. A frown. Small. Almost imperceptible. Still, Jabari caught it.

His heart pounded against his ribs. "What is it?" His voice was sharp – urgent even. "Do you know what's wrong with her? Can you cure her?"

His questions spilled out in rapid succession, his anxiety palpable.