CHAPTER 10

The sun rose over the vast plains, casting long shadows as Kovu and Tsegunki rode side by side. Their horses moved at a steady pace toward Ramnai, where King Fakenye awaited their arrival. The morning air carried the scent of damp earth from the previous night's rain, mingling with the distant aroma of wildflowers.

Tsegunki had been silent for most of the journey, but Kovu could sense he had something on his mind. The man was sharp—too sharp to let thoughts linger without a purpose.

"You still haven't asked, have you?" Tsegunki finally said, breaking the silence.

Kovu glanced at him. "Asked what?"

Tsegunki smirked without looking his way. "Why I chose you."

Kovu exhaled a short laugh. "I assumed you'd tell me when you were ready."

Tsegunki adjusted his grip on the reins. "Every king wanted me in their ranks. Some promised wealth, others power. But I saw something in you."

Kovu raised a brow. "And what was that?"

Tsegunki turned to him, his dark eyes unreadable. "You are not like the others."

Kovu scoffed. "That doesn't explain much."

Tsegunki's smirk widened. "You'll figure it out."

Kovu sighed. He had learned quickly that Tsegunki enjoyed speaking in riddles.

The trees lining the road began to thin as they approached a fork in the path. A group of warriors rode ahead, scouting the area. Kovu glanced at them before turning back to Tsegunki.

"There's something else," Kovu said. "I need your help."

Tsegunki gave him a sideways glance. "With what? My prince"

"I know how to fight," Kovu admitted. "I've trained with the best warriors in my father's kingdom, but I need to be better. King Lahara has tasked me with training Fakenye's warriors, but if I am to teach others, I must first sharpen my own skills."

Tsegunki studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Then we will train. But be warned, Kovu I do not go easy on anyone."

Kovu grinned. "I wouldn't expect you to."

They rode on in silence, the sounds of hooves filling the air.

In the heart of Ramnai, Mandlavi and Ramna stood at the edge of the bustling market, Karna pressed tightly between them.

The village was alive with movement, merchants calling out prices, children running barefoot through the streets, the scent of spices and fresh bread wafting through the air.

Karna's small fingers dug into Mandlavi's hand, her grip unnaturally strong for a child her age.

"She's holding on like we're about to throw her into a lion's den," Ramna murmured.

Mandlavi smirked. "She's cautious. That's a good thing."

Ramna snorted. "She's squeezing your fingers like she's trying to break them."

Mandlavi looked down at Karna, who was watching everything with unnerving intensity.

The truth was, they had come to the market for a reason.

Karna was growing too fast.

At only a few months old, she looked like a child of three, her mind far sharper than any toddler's. She spoke fluently, processed thoughts quickly, and sometimes, her gaze seemed to pierce straight through people.

Mandlavi had seen her lift objects no child should be able to lift.

And then there were the visions.

Karna would wake up screaming some nights, her small body trembling, her eyes filled with things she could not yet explain. Mandlavi would hold her, whispering reassurances, but even she was afraid.

She and Ramna had traveled through many lands, seen many things, but they had never encountered anything like this.

"She's growing too fast," Mandlavi murmured.

Ramna sighed. "I know."

They needed money. They needed stability.

And so, here they were.

They passed a small stall where an elderly woman arranged bundles of dried herbs.

"Herbs," Ramna murmured. "That's something we know."

Mandlavi nodded and approached the woman. "Excuse me, do you need help?"

The woman looked up, her wrinkled face unreadable. "Do you know anything about healing?"

Mandlavi and Ramna exchanged a glance.

"We do," Ramna said.

The woman studied them. "Then tell me, what would you give a man suffering from fever and chills?"

Mandlavi didn't hesitate. "Ginger root mixed with honey and boiled in water. If the fever persists, willow bark tea for the pain."

The woman nodded approvingly. "And for infected wounds?"

Ramna answered. "Crushed garlic and honey to clean the wound. If the infection is bad, boiled comfrey leaves wrapped around it."

The woman's gaze softened. "You know your craft."

Mandlavi smiled. "We had to learn quickly where we came from."

The woman gestured toward her stall. "Then you may work here. The pay is small, but you'll have food and a roof over your head if you need it."

Ramna grinned. "That's better than nothing."

Mandlavi exhaled in relief. They had found work.

Karna, however, had gone stiff.

Mandlavi knelt beside her. "Karna?"

Karna's small brows furrowed. "I see him."

Mandlavi's stomach tightened. "Who?"

Karna's golden-brown eyes, too wise for her age, flickered with something strange. "The man with the sword."

Ramna tensed. "Where?"

Karna pointed a small finger toward the distant horizon.

Mandlavi followed her gaze.

And there, riding toward Ramnai, was Kovu and Tsegunki.

Tsegunki felt the shift in the air before he saw the child.

It was subtle like the moment before a storm, when the winds changed direction and the world fell quiet.

His grip on the reins tightened.

Kovu, oblivious, was scanning the marketplace. "This place is alive," he murmured.

Tsegunki wasn't listening.

His eyes locked onto a small figure in the crowd.

A child.

But not just any child.

She was staring at him.

No through him.

Her golden-brown eyes burned with something ancient. Something powerful.

For the first time in years, a ripple of unease crawled up Tsegunki's spine.

Kovu noticed his change in expression. "What is it?"

Tsegunki exhaled slowly. "That child…"

Kovu followed his gaze. His brows furrowed. "She's just a girl."

Tsegunki wasn't so sure.

The girl turned to the woman beside her tall, dark-skinned, her features sharp with recognition.

Tsegunki stiffened.

Mandlavi.

Their eyes met across the distance, and in that moment, everything else faded.

She knew.

She knew what he was.

And judging by the look in the child's eyes so did she.

Karna's lips parted.

Tsegunki felt the air tighten.

And then, in a voice too small to carry the weight of its truth, she whispered a single word.

"Danger."

Tsegunki's heartbeat slowed.

The storm had begun.