Chapter Twenty-One: The Hyena, The Tide, and The Crush That Could Drown Them Both

The stream cut through the ruined forest like a scar, its waters running too clear for a place so haunted. Broken branches and shattered totems littered the ground, reminders of the last Bvuri ambush — the kind that didn't leave bodies, only echoes.

The Bloodbound rested along the bank, their weapons close, their eyes scanning the shadows. Even now, silence felt wrong. This was not the silence of rest. It was the silence of something holding its breath.

Ranga stood at the water's edge, spears planted into the dirt beside him, one leg cocked up on a rock like he was posing for the cover of some mythical scroll. His chest swelled with exaggerated confidence, spirit flames flickering faintly around his shoulders.

"Chidawo," he said for the fifth time, loud enough for everyone — especially Liora — to hear. "The Great Hyena Chidawo. Sounds good, doesn't it?"

Tafara, half-dozing nearby, snorted. "Sounds like you repeating it so you don't forget."

Ranga ignored him, flashing a toothy grin in Liora's direction. She stood a little further down the bank, her bare feet sinking into the soft mud, water swirling gently around her ankles. The pale glyphs along her arms and back moved — actually moved — sliding across her skin like silver fish, constantly rewriting her shape.

It was hypnotic. And it scared the hell out of him.

But fear was for quiet men. Ranga was not a quiet man.

"You know," he called, walking over, "if you ever need a personal guard — someone with, say, legendary Chidawo reflexes and unbeatable charm — I might be available."

Liora glanced over her shoulder, her smile soft and unreadable. "And what would you guard me from, Hyena?"

Ranga's grin faltered, just a little. "Uh, I mean… you know, enemies, monsters, Bvuri, angry spirits. Regular stuff."

Liora turned fully, her head tilting slightly as the water swirled higher around her calves without her moving a muscle. "And if I'm the thing they're afraid of?"

The stream darkened for just a second — shadows passing beneath the surface that had nothing to do with fish. The glyphs along her ribs glowed faintly, shifting into spirals that didn't quite belong to any human script.

Ranga swallowed hard, but the laugh came anyway. "Then I guess I'd have to guard you from yourself."

Liora's smile didn't fade, but there was something behind her eyes — something deep, vast, and weightless. "That's a hard thing to catch."

Ranga scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, they say Hyenas never let go once they bite."

She stepped closer, the water following her like a living thing, curling around her ankles before falling back into place. "What if the tide doesn't stand still long enough to be bitten?"

Ranga had no clever comeback for that. For once, he was speechless — but in his chest, where fear should've been, there was only this dumb, stubborn need.

The need to be near her.

The need to make her laugh.

The need to remind her — no matter how much her curves shifted, how many faces she carried — someone saw her.

"Then," he said, voice softer than usual, "I'll just keep running after it."

Liora's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, then she turned back to the stream. The glyphs along her back slowly unwound, rearranging into shapes Ranga couldn't read.

But he didn't need to read them to understand the truth.

Liora wasn't Chidawo.

She was something older — something the spirits themselves had forgotten.

And if Ranga was going to win her heart, first he had to keep up with the tide.

He planted his spear deeper into the mud beside her and sat down. No words. No boasting.

Just a boy with a crush, sitting beside a girl who could break the world open with a sigh.

And in the distance, where the stream curved out of sight, something old watched — and for the first time in centuries, it smiled.