"The crown is not just worn, it is bled for." Inscription in the Shrine of the First Flame
Adiro stood on the palace rooftop, hidden beneath a hooded cloak. Below, Dakira boiled with unrest. The fires from the lower city rose like a signal to the heavens. The people chanted in unison; not for war, not for the king, but for something older.
"Let the truth reign!"
Kwame appeared beside him, his face streaked with sweat and soot. "The council is in chaos. Your appearance at the archives has spread through the capital. They know now that you've returned."
Adiro clenched his fists. "Then we cannot wait. I must speak to the people before they're silenced."
Kwame hesitated. "Commander Zara is already within the city walls. She's brought the Black Flame."
Adiro froze. The Black Flame were mercenaries, fanatical, ruthless, loyal only to coin. Their presence meant bloodshed.
"They're coming for the people," Kwame continued. "Not just you."
Adiro's jaw tightened. "Then I'll give them a new target."
High in the hills of Oremi, Niko and Sefa climbed toward the Shrine of the Burning Tree. The air thinned. Mist clung to the earth like ghosts. Somewhere below, hooves pounded the soil, the assassins were gaining.
"We're almost there," Sefa gasped, clutching the side of a jagged rock. "Just beyond the ridge."
Niko reached for her hand. "We can't stop now. The storm will cover our tracks."
Behind them, a sharp whistle echoed.
Then arrows.
One struck the cliff just above Niko's head. Another grazed Sefa's arm. She screamed, falling.
Niko dove, catching her just before she tumbled down the ravine. His strength faltered. His hands slipped in the wet moss.
Suddenly, a rope shot down from above.
"Grab it!" a voice shouted.
They looked up an old man with long dreadlocks and faded tribal beads held the rope steady.
Niko's eyes widened. "Baba Ekun?"
The old seer who once blessed his village as a child, the one who vanished years ago now stood before them.
Baba Ekun grinned. "Did you think the prophecy would unfold without witnesses?"
In the center of Dakira's public square, a crowd had gathered, drawn by rumor and smoke. A lone figure stood atop the base of the shattered unity statue.
Adiro removed his hood.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Some wept. Others knelt. The guards flinched.
He raised his voice.
"I am Adiro Adepo, son of Zina of Dakira and Akin of Oremi.
I was born of the blood you were taught to fear.
And I am here not to take your crown… but to restore your peace."
Whispers turned to chants. The guards hesitated.
But then, a scream.
From the rooftops, Black Flame mercenaries fired arrows into the crowd.
Panic. Chaos. Screaming.
Adiro stood his ground, even as a blade sliced past his cheek. Kwame fought beside him, shielding civilians.
Suddenly, a roar erupted from the western alley.
A wave of people, farmers, traders, and even former palace guards, charged forward with makeshift weapons.
The uprising had begun.
Inside the ancient shrine carved into the side of Oremi's sacred mountain, Niko lit a torch. Symbols glowed faintly along the walls. The shrine was built before memory, before kings.
Sefa leaned against the stone, her wound wrapped.
Baba Ekun placed both pendants; Niko's and Adiro's into the hollow of a tree-shaped altar.
A click. Then a stone door slid open.
Inside, a scroll waited on a golden stand. Above it, the same twin lion emblem flickered in the torchlight.
Niko opened the scroll and read aloud:
"One shall stand where both once bled.
Two shall fall for one to rise.
When brother faces brother, and truth is fire,
The land shall either heal… or perish."
Niko felt a chill run down his spine.
"Are we meant to fight?" he asked.
Baba Ekun shook his head. "Only if you choose war."
"Then how do we stop it?"
"You meet him," the seer said, "in the place where your parents last stood together."
Adiro and Kwame reached the outer palace walls after dusk. They were bloodied, battered, but alive.
"The people have taken the east wing," Kwame said. "But Commander Zara controls the gate."
Adiro looked up. Smoke coiled from the towers. The king's banner hung limp.
"This ends tonight."
Before Kwame could protest, Adiro walked forward, alone, toward the guards.
He raised both hands.
"I come not as your enemy," he called, "but as your heir."
Zara stepped through the gate, black cloak billowing, sword drawn.
"So," she said coldly. "You wear your father's blood like armor."
"I wear my mother's truth like fire."
They clashed, blade to blade, sparks flying. Zara was faster, sharper. But Adiro fought like a man possessed. He ducked, rolled, parried, and finally disarmed her with a swift strike to her wrist.
He stood over her, sword pointed at her heart.
"Do it," she spat. "Finish it."
But Adiro dropped the sword.
"We don't need more blood," he said. "We need justice."
The guards watched in stunned silence.
Then one by one, they knelt.
Zara cursed, rising slowly.
"You won't hold the throne for long."
"I don't want the throne," Adiro said, turning. "I want peace."
At dawn, a carriage appeared at the edge of Dakira's palace gates.
From it stepped Niko, flanked by Baba Ekun and Sefa, wounded but determined.
Adiro met him on the palace steps.
The brothers stared at each other in silence.
Then embraced.
The people cheered though many still whispered in fear and awe.
Together, they climbed the palace balcony. Niko held the scroll in one hand. Adiro held the pendant of their mother.
"We do this together," Niko said.
Adiro nodded. "For her. For them. For both kingdoms."
And as the sun rose, casting golden light over Dakira and Oremi alike, the people beheld something they hadn't seen in generations:
Hope.