Fire Knows Fire
I. Kasa – The Trial of Breath and Bone
Beneath a dormant volcano where flame had once spoken and stone had once walked, Kasa knelt before the circle of the Ember-Blooded Elders.
They wore no crowns. No colors. Just skin marked with soot, eyes lit from within, and a stillness that made fire seem patient.
One elder stepped forward—Télu, Keeper of Memory and Flame.
"You carry the god-mark of Nzobalu," she said, voice like cracking coal, "but you are not his slave. That is what this trial will teach."
Kasa's eyes burned with determination.
"What must I do?"
Télu held out a stone blade and a bowl of still water.
"You must breathe fire without flame.
Break bone without striking.
And remember without pain."
"And if I fail?"
"Then the god will eat what's left."
II. Zion – Preparing for War
Back in Nouvo Lakay, the temple square had become a forge.
Sael trained warriors with new drills—ones meant to fight divine enemies.
Ayomi communed with ancestors lost in old god-wars, seeking forgotten rites.
Ajima and the council drew defensive borders, assigning new scouts and glyph-carvers.
Zion walked among them—offering no commands, only presence.
He paused by the shattered feathers of Krá-Thuun, now displayed like a warning.
"They will come again," he said to Ayola, "and not with birds. They'll come with reason, with gods of seduction, with chains dressed as treaties."
Ayola tilted her head.
"Then we fight before the talking begins?"
"No," Zion said. "We walk. Toward what waits in the flames."
She knew then.
"You've felt it too."
"Someone is rising," Zion whispered. "And if we wait, we'll meet him in war. But if we move—if we go now—maybe we'll meet as men."
Departure
That night, before the moon rose, Zion walked to the edge of Nouvo Lakay. There, by the road carved by generations of traders and dreamers, stood a man with broad shoulders and deep scars along his arms.
His eyes held fire.
But his body was flesh.
No divine light. No sigil glow.
Just Ogou Feray, in the form of a grizzled traveler, his weapon wrapped in linen, his gait relaxed but ready.
"You sure?" Ogou asked. "Once we step out, we ain't gods and chiefs. Just two fools walking toward a storm."
Zion smiled faintly.
"Maybe the world needs fools right now."
No drums. No farewell.
The two walked into the dark like shadows seeking their own flame.
Far across the hills, fire flickered low on the horizon.
Zion paused.
Ogou, now just a tall man with a limp and a whetstone, stopped beside him.
"You feel it?" Ogou asked, quietly.
"Like a heartbeat that doesn't belong to me," Zion answered. "He's near."
"Good. Let's find him before someone else does."
And without looking back, they walked on.
IV. Kasa – The Trial Begins
Kasa stood in a stone circle surrounded by smoking braziers.
The Ember-Blooded sang no songs.
They only watched.
He breathed in silence.
He touched the still water—and it boiled beneath his palm.
The blade trembled.
His bones did not break—but memories rushed in:
Nzobalu at war—unshackled, not divine, but mortal and mighty.
Cities of flame ruled by those who bled sparks.
Betrayal. Collapse. Ash.
He screamed—but not from pain.
From recognition.
"It wasn't the gods who broke us," Kasa whispered. "It was those who feared what mortals had become."
And with that truth, the blade in his hand burst into red fire.
The elders smiled.
"The first seal is broken," Télu said. "Now learn what it means to carry fire not as gift—but as birthright