The Path of Salt and Bone

 By morning, the carving was still there solid wood, light as breath, heavy as history. Kaelo turned it over in his hands. The detail was uncanny. Not a child's toy, but a tool. A vessel.

And somehow… it smelled like Mama Naa's prayer mat. Old ash and kola nut.

He went to Mambé's compound in the hills that afternoon.

It took half a day's walk, through brush, past riverbanks choked with reeds, and onto a hill where no chickens scratched and no goats grazed. The land knew her.

She was waiting, seated beneath the bones of an ancient baobab.

"I felt him move in you," she said without looking up. "Stronger now, isn't he?"

Kaelo nodded. "He showed me… a child. Me. Holding this." He offered the carving.

Mambé took it with care. "A soul relic," she whispered. He's not just entering you. He's trying to rebuild you.

Kaelo frowned. "Rebuild?

"Yes. In his image. In his memory. The gods don't simply wear us they mold us.

She stood, walking to a bowl of salt beside her mat. "There's a way to fight back. Not to banish him but to delay the merging.

Kaelo stepped closer. "What do I do?

Mambé poured the salt into a shallow gourd. "You must walk the Path of Salt and Bone.

He stared. "What is that?

"A ritual," she said. "Old as the land. You'll walk through three sacred places before sunset tomorrow—each tied to your blood, your past, and your promise. If you finish it, you'll anchor your soul. If you fail…"

She didn't finish.

Kaelo nodded. "Where does it start?

That evening, Mambé led him to the first site.

It was a ruined family hut, swallowed by vines, tucked deep in the northern grove. Kaelo hadn't seen it since he was six. Before his mother disappeared.

Before Mama Naa took him in.

Mambé stopped at the threshold. "You must go in alone. Dig where the hearth once burned.

Kaelo stepped inside.

It was dark, thick with dust and memory. He dropped to his knees, digging with bare hands until his fingers struck something hard.

A bone bracelet, charred black.

It had been his mother's.

He picked it up and the air shifted.

Behind him, he felt the presence before he heard it.

Anoku.

Still in human form, now dressed in a simple indigo tunic, barefoot in the ash.

He stood where the wall had collapsed, watching with something like sorrow.

"She wore that the day they took her," Anoku said. "She tried to save you.

Kaelo turned slowly. "You were there?

"I am there. Always. In the moments where the world breaks.

Kaelo's fingers tightened on the bracelet.

Anoku stepped forward, slowly. "You think I am the threat. But I am the echo.

The response. They buried truth. I offer it back.

Kaelo gritted his teeth. "By taking over my body?

Anoku paused. "You would rather forget? Pretend your blood wasn't promised to something greater?

I'd rather be free.

The god's expression didn't change, but his voice softened.

"You were never free, Kaelo. Not since birth. But you can be powerful.

Then, just like that, Anoku was gone.

The bracelet burned cold in Kaelo's hand.

He stepped outside, breath shaking.

Mambé handed him a clay jar. "One step done," she said. Two more to go.

That night, Kaelo barely slept. Anoku didn't appear in his dreams.

But Kaelo felt him.

Not like a stranger now but like a second pulse. A twin rhythm, beneath the skin.

And still, the words echoed:

You were never free. But you can be powerful.