Chapter 16 Quest and Dinner

[DING: HIDDEN QUEST – "The First Glyphs of Knowledge"]

OBJECTIVE: Develop a Nsibidi-based system to express mathematical, physical, and chemical principles in a way that can be easily taught and passed down.

REQUIREMENTS:

Create Nsibidi adaptations for fundamental mathematical operations (+, -, ×, ÷) and algebraic expressions.

Develop symbols to represent key physical concepts (motion, force, energy, heat).

Establish a method to notate chemical reactions using Nsibidi.

Successfully teach at least one person a concept using the new system.

REWARD:

Skill: Nsibidi Scholar (Beginner) – Increases comprehension and ability to modify Nsibidi for complex ideas.

Knowledge Fragment: Principles of Engineering – Grants insight into structural mechanics and materials.

+5 Intelligence

FAILURE PENALTY:

Loss of potential system integration.

Decreased reputation among elders for proposing an impractical idea.

…

My vision blurred for a moment as the sound of the notification sounded, followed by the text glowing with an otherworldly presence only I could see flickering before me

A hidden quest.

I felt a rush of excitement and a bit apprehension, maybe even a hint of relief.

The system wasn't just some cruel joke or a hallucination brought on by whatever cosmic meddling had thrown me into this world. No, it had a purpose.

A direction.

And it was guiding me, pushing me forward.

And this quest? It made sense.

I had already started thinking about integrating Nsibidi with mathematics and the sciences, but this was more than idle curiosity.

It was a mission now. One that would change everything.

I was not some genius in my past life who had all the knowledge on how to create the basic necessities of life, but with the reward: Fragment of Knowledge, I could start somewhere.

I inhaled sharply, the realization settling deep.

If I could successfully modify Nsibidi to incorporate these concepts, then I wouldn't just be learning. I'd be building something that could reshape how knowledge was passed down.

I could make learning more accessible and intuitive.

A language that didn't just record trade agreements and laws but could carry the very foundation of understanding the world itself.

A grin tugged at my lips, but before I could fully process the weight of the quest, a voice cut through my thoughts.

"Obinna."

I blinked and the text faded, leaving only Onwudiwe's scrutinizing gaze fixed on me.

His fingers were still coated in dust from the symbols he had been tracing in the dirt, his expression a mix of curiosity and mild concern.

"You blanked out," he said, his tone carefully neutral, though his eyes flickered with something sharper.

Concern?

I hesitated a bit. Lying outright wouldn't serve me here. Onwudiwe was too observant. But the truth? That was a different matter entirely.

"I just received a message from the spirits," I said, keeping my tone light. "A task."

Silence stretched between us.

Then, without warning, Onwudiwe bowed his head slightly, his fingers tapping once against the ground before he looked up again. "Then I am at your service."

I stared at him. No skepticism. No questioning whether I was insane. Just immediate, unwavering acceptance.

"Just like that?" I asked, arching a brow.

"The spirits do not lie," he said simply. "And they have favored you deeply."

I let out a slow breath, studying him. There was no doubt in his voice, no hesitation. If anything, there was an odd sort of reverence.

Huh.

The weight of expectations suddenly felt a little heavier. But that was fine. I had dealt with worse.

Still, I couldn't resist. "You're really just going to take my word for it? I could be some overconfident lunatic."

Onwudiwe's lips twitched in what might have been amusement. "If you are, then you are a lunatic with the favor of the unseen. Either way, it would be unwise to dismiss you."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the smirk that followed. "Alright then, let's get back to work before—"

"Obinna! Onwudiwe!"

The sharp call interrupted whatever momentum we had been building.

I turned just in time to see my sister stepping out from the hut, arms crossed, her expression a mix of irritation and amusement.

"Come eat," she called, eyes narrowing when I hesitated. "Now."

Onwudiwe, traitor that he was, immediately dusted off his hands and stood. "It would be rude to keep her waiting."

I shot him a look. "Didn't you just swear yourself to my service?"

"To your learning," he corrected smoothly. "And a hungry mind learns little."

I groaned but pushed myself up, dusting my hands off as I followed him toward the hut.

Even as we walked, my mind was still racing.

This was it. A real chance to push Nsibidi beyond what it had ever been before. To create something lasting. Something revolutionary.

And I wasn't going to waste it.

…

The scent of roasted yam and palm oil filled the air as Adanna carried a wooden tray, setting it down on the small stool in the clearing in front of our house.

Behind her, our mother, Nnenna, followed with a clay bowl of ose akidi(spicy bean sauce). She placed it beside the tray, wiped her hands on her wrapper, and gave me a pointed look.

"Eat well, Obinna," she said. "You've been running around too much."

I gave her an easy smile. "I'm always careful, Nne."

She hummed in response, clearly unconvinced, then turned to Onwudiwe, who had been sitting quietly. "And you, my son, eat to your fill. You've been patient with him all day."

Onwudiwe, ever polite, dipped his head. "Thank you, Mama Nnenna. Your kindness is too great."

I shot Onwudiwe a look. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to replace me as the favorite son."

"You're the only son of your mother." He said with his neutral expression.

Tch, can't even take a joke.

I reached for a piece of yam, tearing off a chunk and dipping it into the palm oil, but before I could take a bite, Adanna sat herself across from me, arms folded.

"So," she said, fixing me with a look, "what were you two whispering about so seriously?"

I raised a brow at her. "If you were so curious, you should have just stayed and listened instead of calling us to eat."

Adanna rolled her eyes. "You talk too much for someone who's been sitting in the dirt all day. Besides, Mother said to make sure you eat properly. You've been acting strange lately."

I scoffed. "Strange how?"

She waved a piece of yam in the air, her expression exasperated. "You disappear for hours, come back looking like you've been wrestling spirits, and then sit around staring at nothing like a lost goat. Should I be worried?"

I could swear I heard Onwudiwe chuckle but looking at him, I saw his usual stoic face.

I only shook my head and said. "No need to worry. I simply have a lot to think about."

Adanna turned to Onwudiwe with narrowed eyes. "And you? Have you also been chosen by the spirits, or are you just here to make sure my brother doesn't lose his mind completely?"

Onwudiwe, to his credit, maintained his usual composure. "Your brother is guided by the spirits, and I am here to assist him."

Adanna let out a dramatic sigh. "Wonderful. Now he has a title to go with his growing ego."

I flicked a piece of yam at her, which she narrowly dodged. "Adanna, one day, people will tell stories about me, and you will regret your mockery."

She smirked. "Oh, I hope they do, so I can make sure they include the part where my great and wise brother tripped into a mud pit last market day."

Onwudiwe tried to hold back a laugh, and even my mother, who had been mostly quiet, let out a small chuckle. I gave my sister a flat look.

"Adanna, I swear, when I become a great ruler, you will be the first person I exile."

She gasped, placing a hand over her chest in mock offense. "After everything I've done for you? After all the times I let you have extra food?"

I snorted. "You mean the scraps you didn't want?"

"A gift is a gift," she said with a shrug.

Nnenna sighed, shaking her head. "The two of you argue more than you eat. If you have the energy to bicker, you have the energy to do more work tomorrow."

I immediately straightened. "We're eating, mama. No need for threats."

She gave me a knowing look before settling down beside Adanna, eating in small, measured bites.

The meal continued in relative peace, the three of us eating under the open sky.

Occasionally, the sounds of the village reached us, children laughing in the distance, the rhythmic pounding of mortar and pestle, the crackling of a distant fire.

I dipped another piece of yam into the bean sauce, chewing slowly as my mind drifted back to the Nsibidi Onwudiwe had shown me, to the challenge that now lay before me.

A new system, a new way of thinking, one that could change everything.

Adanna snapped her fingers in front of my face. "You're doing it again."

I blinked. "Doing what?"

"Thinking too hard while eating. That's how you choke and die."

I rolled my eyes. "Thank you for your concern."

"Just eat, Obinna," she said, reaching for another piece of yam. "Whatever grand idea you're planning, it will still be there after you finish your food."

I glanced at Onwudiwe, who was watching me with that same patient look.

I exhaled slowly and picked up another piece of yam. Adanna was right. The future could wait—at least until after dinner.