The Banquet in Ginen

In the heart of Ginen, beyond the veil of the mortal world, the great hall was alive with warmth and laughter. The air smelled of roasted meats, spiced rum, and fragrant herbs. A long, carved wooden table stretched beneath glowing lanterns fashioned from glowing fireflies, each flicker casting playful shadows on the walls.

Around the table sat all the Lwa — powerful, eternal, and radiant. Their forms shimmered between human and spirit, their eyes glowing with the fire of ages.

Papa Legba presided at the head, his cane leaning nearby, eyes sharp and smiling.

To his right, Erzulie Freda, dazzling in her elegance, sipped rum delicately, her laughter like the soft chime of bells.

Opposite her, Ogou Feray grinned broadly, his armor gleaming even in the soft light, muscles relaxed but ready for anything.

At the far end, Baron Samedi lounged with a crooked grin, swirling a dark glass of rum as if it held the secrets of life and death itself.

Despite their majestic presence, the mood was light. The Lwa, gods of might and mystery, were enjoying a moment of simple pleasure.

Papa Legba raised his glass.

"To Zion," he toasted, "the mortal who dares build a kingdom where none existed."

The Lwa chuckled, some with genuine respect, others with amused affection.

Ogou Feray shook his head.

"He thinks he can handle the power of the Zans… and the weight of our sigils."

"Almost had a heart attack last night," added Erzulie Freda with a sly smile.

Baron Samedi leaned forward.

"That back of his, burning with every sigil… we made sure he felt our presence. Thought it might knock some humility into him."

Laughter rolled around the table.

Papa Legba chuckled.

"A playful lesson, yes. But one he needs. So eager, so stubborn. Like a young bull charging the storm."

Erzulie Freda tossed a small grape into her mouth.

"Did you see him trying to hide from us? Afraid to tell the priestesses."

"Poor boy," Ogou added, "thinking he's in control."

Baron Samedi raised his glass again.

"Let's not be too harsh. After all, he's the first to build a nation here. And with his foolish heart, he's earned our attention."

Papa Legba smiled warmly.

"Soon, he will understand the balance. The power of the Zans, the strength of the people, and the will of the gods."

The Lwa continued their feast, the chatter weaving between tales of past pranks and divine secrets, laughter echoing through the timeless halls.

For a moment, the gods were just friends—sharing food, drink, and a good joke at Zion's expense.

But behind their smiles lay the infinite power watching over the fragile new kingdom of Zantrayel