The night after Malazu's departure was eerily quiet. The wind barely stirred, the usual hum of the savannah absent. Even the insects and nocturnal creatures seemed to hold their breath, as if sensing the shift in the world.
Amina sat by the dying fire in the village square, staring into the embers. Her hands still tingled from the power she had summoned. She flexed her fingers, remembering the way the energy had surged through her, wild and untamed. It had answered her call—but why?
Kwame sat across from her, his expression troubled. "You haven't said a word since they left," he finally spoke.
Amina sighed, rubbing her temples. "Because I don't know what to say."
"We need a plan," Kwame said. "Malazu won't stop. He'll be back."
Amina met his gaze. "I know."
She felt it in her bones. The battle was only beginning. Malazu hadn't come to destroy them—not yet. He had been testing her, measuring her. And that terrified her more than any open attack.
"We need help," she admitted. "We can't fight him alone."
Kwame hesitated before nodding. "There are others," he said. "Other clans. Other warriors who remember the old ways."
Amina's eyes narrowed. "Do you think they'll fight with us?"
Kwame's expression hardened. "If they understand what's at stake… they won't have a choice."
Amina exhaled slowly. The path ahead was clear. They had to gather allies.
The war for the land had begun.