Chapter Twenty-Eight — When the Sky Listens

The air felt wrong.

Not just heavy — it was watching them.

Dendera was the first to stop walking. His tusk-shaped axe hung loose in his grip, and his broad chest rose and fell faster than usual.

"Something's off," he muttered. "The ground's... holding its breath."

Liora stood at the water's edge, her toes just barely brushing the river. The Manjuzu's pulse was strong here, the current pulling at her, whispering secrets in voices only half-formed. But now, the water had stilled. Even the spirits that lurked in the depths had gone silent.

Kael's lion eyes narrowed. "They're coming."

"Vhuramu?" Tafara asked, already shifting his stance, fingers curling like claws. "I've been itching to—"

"No," Nyeredzi's voice cut through them. Her hand covered her right eye, the Cosmic Veil already shimmering faintly over her skin. "Not Vhuramu. Something worse."

Ranga, who had been leaning against a tree, trying to casually stand a little closer to Liora than necessary, straightened. "Worse than spirit-poisoning crocodile cultists? That's comforting."

Nyeredzi didn't answer. Her fingers twitched, tracing invisible paths in the air, the cosmic strands of her totem weaving around her like a cloak made of half-light and shadow. Her breath quickened, her lips moving faster than sound.

Kael stepped closer. "What do you see?"

Nyeredzi's voice was not fully her own when she spoke — it was layered, as though a hundred ancestors whispered through her.

"I see—"

The sky splits open — Falcon wings cutting through cloud and spirit both. Wind carries not air, but blades of forgotten law, slicing through totems and flesh alike.

Roots crawl under skin, not earth — Serpent fingers curling around bones, pulling warriors into the earth, but not to bury. To digest.

A Bull's charge, unstoppable, flesh and iron fused into one law, breaking spirit shields like they were wet leaves.

Threads — invisible to the eye but choking the soul — wrapping around throats, wrists, hearts. The Spider does not fight. The Spider decides who lives and who vanishes.

And the Jackal… smiling, always smiling, collecting secrets from the dying, feeding on their truths like marrow sucked from bone.

Nyeredzi stumbled back, her eye flickering with cosmic light. "They're already here."

Kael's grip on his spear tightened. "The Chidawo Circle."

The words hung heavy, even in the Bloodbound's mouths. To be rogue totem warriors was one thing. To face the Circle — the living gods of Murenga — was something else entirely.

Dendera's knuckles turned white around his axe. "They're coming for us?"

Nyeredzi shook her head. "They're coming for everything. Vhuramu was the first cut. We're next."

Tafara snorted, though the humor didn't quite reach his eyes. "Great. So we're caught between the Vhuramu cultists and the gods of Murenga. Perfect odds."

Liora's voice was quiet, but it carried. "They're afraid."

Everyone turned to her.

She was still at the water's edge, but now the water moved again — curling around her ankles, responding to her presence like a living thing. Her hair, already touched by the Manjuzu's shifting form, flowed like liquid shadow in the faint light.

"The Chidawo don't move unless they're afraid," she said softly. "They've ruled too long. They think they've already won."

Ranga stepped closer to her, voice a little too loud — overcompensating. "Then we just need to remind them they haven't."

Kael's jaw tightened. "We're not ready."

"We'll never be ready," Nyeredzi said, her voice quieter now, the vision fading from her eye. "But if we fall here, the prophecy dies with us. The Bvuri win."

"And Murenga falls," Dendera finished.

The Bloodbound stood together at the river's edge, the last light of day fading around them.

In the distance, the sky shivered — a faint silver crack threading through the clouds.

The Falcon was watching.

Liora's hand brushed the water, her fingers dipping beneath the surface.

The Manjuzu stirred.

Kael's grip tightened on his spear. "If the Chidawo want us — let them come."

The Bloodbound Circle stood together.

They were outnumbered. Outmatched. Hunted by gods and cursed by prophecy.

But they were still here.

And they would not break first.