The morning of their departure arrived under a pale sun and a sky brushed with soft streaks of lavender.
Zion stood at the edge of the high plateau, his hand resting gently on the scaled neck of Jakael, his beast companion—a creature of breathtaking size, sleek midnight feathers, and eyes like burning obsidian. The winds curled around its wings like whispered prayers. Thalia approached slowly, carrying a small satchel and wearing a face that tried to look calm.
She failed.
"You've never flown before," Zion said without turning.
Thalia huffed, trying to sound braver than she felt.
"And you have?"
"No," he replied with a grin. "But Jakael has."
The beast gave a low, almost amused chuff.
When they climbed atop the creature's back, Thalia instinctively wrapped her arms tightly around Zion's waist. The warmth of her touch surprised him, but he said nothing.
"Don't let me fall," she whispered.
"Never," he answered, and with a single command, Jakael leapt into the sky.
Above the World
The wind roared as they ascended. Thalia buried her face into Zion's back, but eventually, her grip loosened. She dared to look down—and gasped.
Beneath them sprawled the world like a living map: rivers glinting like ribbons of light, forests like oceans of green, and distant mountains that clawed at the clouds. Villages became pinpricks. The wind smelled cleaner, freer. Up here, the burdens of war, hunger, and loss felt far away.
"This… is beautiful," Thalia murmured.
Zion turned slightly, smiling.
"This is what I want us to protect. All of it."
Nouvo Lakay: The Quiet Bloom
Back at home, the winds of change stirred.
Ayola, now Baron Samedi's chosen priestess, walked the grounds of Nouvo Lakay draped in deep plum garments. Around her, the energy of death curled not with fear—but reverence. Her laughter had returned, soft and mischievous. Her sigil pulsed with violet light as she spoke softly to the spirits that lingered at the edge of the village.
In another part of the settlement, Ena, the new priestess chosen by Erzulie Freda, was undergoing her awakening. Flowers bloomed wherever she stepped. Her presence felt like a melody. But both girls—powerful as they were—had watchers.
Zion's inner circle kept close.
Malek, the ever-watchful, took notes of their progress.
Rano, Zion's childhood friend, tested their strength with sparring sessions.
Seyla, the tribe's best strategist, ensured no sign of corruption lingered within their powers.
Zion had made one thing clear: no god, no priestess, no soul—would remain above scrutiny.
Through New Lands
Zion and Thalia visited four territories over the course of the week.
One village carved into the side of a cliff, where they bartered for rare herbs.
Another nestled in ice and snow, where the people wore bear-hide robes and spoke with ancient wisdom.
A floating commune on massive water lilies, where children sang to calm the river spirits.
A ruined city swallowed by time, where Zion sensed echoes of something deeply wrong, something left behind.
Each stop added to their map—not just geographic, but spiritual. They weren't just learning about others. They were learning about themselves.
At night, they camped under stars. Thalia no longer feared the wind. She slept closer to him, not from worry—but comfort.
The Silence of the Gods
In the silence left by the Lwa's retreat, people began to turn inward.
No more grand manifestations. No more divine interruptions. Just the hum of the land, the rhythm of life, and the quiet shaping of destiny.
But somewhere, far below the ground, something else stirred—drawn not by prayer… but by blood