POV: Adeola, Moremi (with Wale & Bayo interludes)
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The fire in Akinwumi's courtyard crackled low, casting long shadows across the ground. Silence hung heavy in the air—not peace, but something far more dangerous.
Suspicion.
Adeola sat alone at the edge of the gathering hall, his fingers tracing the torn edge of a parchment. A list of names. Rebel names. Including his own.
He shouldn't have seen it. He wasn't even meant to be in that room. But now that he had, he couldn't look away from the truth:
There was a traitor among them.
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After the Ambush
The squad had returned with bloodied clothes and wounded pride. Damilola was still being treated. Femi hadn't spoken since dragging his friend through the mud. Ayomide gave no lectures that night — only silence.
And Adeola... Adeola couldn't stop replaying the moment the masked warrior's blade stopped just inches from his throat.
Why?
Why spare him?
He lay awake most nights now, listening to the wind. Every time a branch snapped outside his hut, his hand went to the knife under his pillow.
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The Vision Lingers
POV Shift: Moremi
Moremi stood by the riverbank, ankle-deep in water, her gaze lost in the swirling reflection.
She hadn't told anyone.
Not even Chief Alade.
Not even Yemi.
In her dream, her brother had stared at her like a stranger — clad in black Ojora armor, with pain in his eyes and blood on his hands. It was just a dream.
But dreams like that didn't come from nowhere.
She pressed a trembling hand to the small medallion tied around her neck. Her brother's. The only thing she had left of him.
And now, something inside her whispered he was alive.
But if that vision was true — if he was the man in that uniform — then what was he now?
A victim?
Or a weapon?
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In the Heart of the Empire
POV Shift: Wale
Wale dismounted his horse, boots crunching into dry earth as his men fell into formation behind him.
The front lines reeked of smoke and tension. Rebels hid in shadows now — ghosts of a war the empire had failed to kill.
He looked across the horizon without blinking.
"Where was the last attack?" he asked one of the officers.
"Near the Ibadi ridge, general. They struck and vanished before reinforcements arrived."
Wale said nothing.
He pulled the black scarf tighter around his neck, concealing the small scar that traced his jaw — the last thing he remembered from before he was taken.
They'd raised him in blood. Taught him to fight. To kill.
He never asked questions.
But lately… faces from dreams haunted him. Laughter he couldn't place. A girl's voice calling his name.
Moremi.
But he buried the thought. Feelings were the first thing they beat out of him.
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The Divide
POV: Adeola
Inside Akinwumi's main hall, voices clashed like swords.
"The empire will crush us if we wait," Bayo spat. "We should strike first."
"We don't even know where Wale is yet," Yemi countered.
"Then let me find him."
"We're not sending anyone to die for your personal vendetta."
Adeola stood at the back, watching. Chief Alade sat quietly at the head, fingers steepled.
"We are divided," Alade finally said. "And the enemy gains strength while we argue."
Then he looked at Adeola.
"You were there. You saw what we're up against. What do you suggest?"
It took Adeola a second to realize the question was real. Directed at him.
"I think… we wait," he said. "We train harder. Smarter. If we fight now, we fight blind. But if we prepare, and know who our enemy is... we strike where it hurts."
The hall quieted.
Yemi nodded slowly. Even Bayo, though defiant, said nothing more.
Later that evening, Alade placed a hand on Adeola's shoulder.
"Leadership begins when you listen first. You listened."
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Moremi's Quiet War
POV: Moremi
She moved quietly through the village that night, her steps untraceable, her mind burning with questions.
If her brother truly lived… if he was now Wale — what had the empire done to him?
She began collecting clues. Names. Shifts in soldier movements. Reports from merchants and refugees who'd escaped Ojora-occupied towns. A pattern began to emerge.
Wale was always just behind the rebel movements. Always a step too close.
She would find the truth. And if her brother had become the empire's blade…
She would break him free.
Or end him.
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Final Scene – The Hunter Arrives
POV Shift: Wale
Wale stood atop the rocky ridge, the wind catching the edge of his black cloak.
Below, the jungle stretched wide — Akinwumi hidden somewhere within.
He didn't know her face.
Not anymore.
But he felt her.
She was close.
And so was the war.
> "Begin the sweep," he said coldly.
"No one escapes."
Behind him, rows of Ojora soldiers began to move.
> The Lost King © 2025 by [Your Name].
This is an original work protected by copyright. No part of this story may be reproduced or used in any form without the author's written permission
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