The smoke from the destroyed Kòk Batay village had long faded, but its echoes traveled farther than fire ever could. Whispers reached distant rivers, coastlines, and highland paths—Zion's tribe had struck without mercy, and the gods themselves had approved.
Some tribes fell into fear.
Others into silence.
A few into conspiracy.
The Trembling Web of Politics
In the weeks following the strike, messengers began appearing at Nouvo Lakay's borders—more frequent, more cautious. Some brought offerings. Others came with careful words.
"We seek peace."
"We bring trade."
"We offer knowledge."
But behind many of those smiles was a hidden question:
How powerful has Zion's tribe truly become?
And if they can destroy one tribe in a single night—what happens if we displease them next?
Inside Nouvo Lakay, the marketplace expanded daily. Sael, priestess of Erzulie Freda, handled trade with unmatched grace—balancing warmth and strictness, love and leverage. She saw the ripple of fear in their eyes, and she wielded it like a thread through fine silk.
"Let them fear," she whispered one night.
"It keeps their hands honest."
The Gate of Legba
Far from the bustle of trade and the heavy footsteps of soldiers, Ayomi, priestess of Papa Legba, kept watch at the Gate.
It wasn't a place of stone or steel—but a spiritual door between the living and the divine. The Lwa had chosen her to guard it.
Under the banyan trees, draped in red cloth and sacred markings, Ayomi meditated for hours without moving. Her skin shimmered faintly with Papa Legba's mark—a key outlined in fire and shadow.
One night, as stars dimmed and the forest fell silent, the Gate shifted.
Ayomi stood. The air grew heavy.
A voice came through—not like sound, but like memory:
"The world watches you now," Papa Legba said.
"But so does something else. Something older than fear.
You must hold the line—not for power, but for truth."
The First Shiver
As the Gate pulsed behind her, Ayomi saw something move beyond the veil—a flicker of a shadow, human in shape but twisted, coiled like smoke wrapped around bone.
She didn't look away.
It watched her.
And then, as if the Gate itself recoiled, it vanished.
Ayomi gasped, her mark glowing hot under her skin.
The Inner Circle Responds
Zion summoned his closest: Thalia, Sael, Ayomi, Ayola, Milo, and the remaining brothers of the circle.
"There's more than just politics," he said.
"Something stirs in the dark.
Ayomi has seen it. And I trust her eyes."
Milo nodded, his hands still dusted with stone and sigils.
"Let them build temples," he said.
"But we must also build a wall of knowing."
"Information will be our first defense," Zion replied.
"Ayomi will lead it. She already guards the threshold."
Final Words of the Chapter
As night fell over Nouvo Lakay, warriors trained under torchlight. Traders whispered. Priestesses watched the stars.
In the shadows just beyond the reach of firelight—something waited.
And deep at the Gate, Ayomi closed her eyes again, whispering to her god:
"Let me be the key that locks the night out. Or the one that lets the truth in."