âââââ "âłâłâł" ââââââ âłâłâłâs chair creaked a protest as he pushed away from his desk, muscles stiff from hours of stillness. Coaxing life back into his limbs, he stretched, then made his way to the sideboard where a porcelain teapot exhaled wisps of steam into the quiet room.
But the tea never touched his lips.
A chill raced down his spine, sharp and electric.
The room tilted on an unseen axis. The teacup slipped from his grasp, amber liquid spilling unheeded onto the carpet.
âThen came the pain.
It arrived in waves, each crest higher than the last. Invisible blades sliced his skin. Phantom bullets tore through muscle and sinew. His flesh felt as though it was being burned and torn apart. All without leaving a single mark on him. It took every ounce of his willpower to stifle the scream clawing its way up his throat.
Through vision blurred by pain, âłâłâłâs gaze locked onto the fireplace mantle, where four colorful animal figurines stood in a row. The fish, hand-carved from lapis lazuliâbegan to crack. Hairline fissures spread like spider webs across its surface, and âłâłâł knew. The hourglass of fate had been upended. Udoâs timeâthe moment everyone, except Nnenneâs warrior himself, had all dreaded and prayed againstâhad come.
âW-wait,â he gasped, lurching toward the figurine as if his touch alone could mend the cracks.
His body betrayed him mid-motion, his left leg suddenly leaden and unresponsive. The paralysis spread like wildfire through his veins, stealing sensation from his limbs inch by agonizing inch. Yet the creeping numbness offered no reprieve from the agony that tore through him.
These were not his wounds. This torment was not truly his.
And that is why he did not try to block it out like he would have usually done. He would bear this. This was his penance, the barest fraction of what he owed to those who had given everything in service to their cause. Their faith, their sacrificeâhe would honor it in the only way left to him.
A sound like splintering ice pierced the air.
The fractures deepened, spread.
âłâłâłâs breath came in ragged gasps, his vision narrowing to a pinpoint. The figurine trembled on its perch, then, with a sound like a thunderclap, shattered.
His heart exploded in his chest, a maelstrom that obliterated all thought, all sensation. As the shards of blue rained down, darkness rose up to claim him. He crumpled to the floor, a marionette with cut strings, and knew no more.
The night sky erupted in bursts of light, each flare a fleeting star born and dying in the span of a breath. Streaks of gold and red split the darkness, cascading in shimmering arcs before fading into stardust as green flowered against the dark backdrop. The air thrummed with each boom, a deep vibration that Udo felt in his chest. Across the park, the thunderous heartbeats pulsed, eliciting the gasps and cheers of the crowd below.
In his hand, a half-eaten funnel cake left a dusting of powdered sugar on his fingertips as he stood transfixed. He had sampled nearly everything the festival had to offer and none of them suited his taste. The churros had been cloyingly sweet, the turkey legs overly salted, and the corn dogs... well, he still wasnât entirely sure what to make of those. But heâd tried them all the same. Each new experience was a story to be collected and preserved; a fragment of this world to carry with him when the time came.
When Nnenne finally welcomed him home.
Eyes closed, Udo imagined himself by a fire on that distant beach. Long-lost family gathered close, eager to hear what he had seen and done in his long years of service. He would tell them of strange foods and stranger customs, of the lands he had walked, of lives saved and battles fought in Nnenneâs name. His tales would span centuries, recounting the wonders and horrors he had witnessed.
He had seen the rise and fall of empires, watched the Great Floodâa cataclysm that reshaped the Eastern Islandsâtransform from history into myth. âHome,â and hundreds of the surrounding islands, once vibrant and real, faded from the worldâs memory like seafoam. But Udo remembered. He would always remember.
The scent of his wivesâ cooking wafting through their modest hut. The laughter of children playing in the crystal-clear waters. His blood-fatherâs fishing spear, worn smooth. Stories shared by firelight. Everyoneâs voices raised in song.
These small, everyday moments were as much a part of him as the crushing guilt. Heâd survived only by chance, away at sea in prayer when the flood came. Returning to⊠nothing. No island, no village, no family.
Why?
Had he angered Nnenne somehow? Failed in his devotion? Was this divine punishment for some unknown transgression? These questions haunted Udo as he moved through life like a ghost, untethered and hollow. Days bled into years, years into decades, decades into centuries. The world moved on, but Udo remained trapped in an endless cycle of grief and longing. UntilâŠ
âDo you want to die?â Mercy came as a
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž âŹïžâŹïžâŹïž with
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž as
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž as
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž and
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž to match appeared before Udo while he was drowning his sorrows in cheap rum. A
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž extended, a pact offered:
âI promise to be the death of you.â Their hands met, and everything changed.
Traveling with
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž, Udoâs world expanded. Color slowly seeped back into his grayscale existence. Joy found himârare at first, then oftenâin lifeâs small wonders and great marvels.
Memories flickered through his mind. Peterâs crooked grin as they faced down a band of thieves, back-to-back despite their constant bickering. Karleen, radiant on the ballroom floor, finally herself in a gown that fit her masculine frame. And Wayra, whose chaotic magic turned a simple walk through the forest into a desperate escape from an army of enchanted flowers. Together, they had traversed sun-scorched deserts and scaled frost-capped mountains. They had fought monstersâhuman and inhumanâ, solved mysteries, and saved each other more times than Udo could count. Each adventure, and countless moments in between, became treasured memories for himâthe happiest times heâd known since losing Home.
Another fireworkâs crack drew Udo back to the present. The park bustled around him, a riot of sights and sounds. His gaze drifted to the gathering on the hill, where the Varian Princess had laid out an impressive array of picnic blankets and pillows. There, playing with a child, was... wasâŠ
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž. Udoâs brow furrowed. Though he could describe every other person in perfect detail, everything about
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž remained frustratingly indistinct.
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïž features blurred and shifted, refusing to solidify in Udoâs mind, and
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïž name came out as a string of blanks.
The curse was working as intended. Udo shouldâve felt relieved. Instead, a bittersweet ache settled in his chest. For it was
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž he wanted to tell his family about the most, the
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïž who had saved him from an eternity of emptiness.
As fireworks lit the night, Udo made his decision. When he reunited with his family, he would tell them of these man-made stars, how they blazed against the darkness, leaving their mark despite their brief existenceâjust like
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž.
Though name and appearance eluded him, perhaps in describing fireworks, Udo could capture
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâs essence: brilliant, powerful, and beautiful. They rekindled Udoâs dormant spirit, infusing his life with a vibrance he thought long lost. In his darkest moments,
âŹïžâŹïž had been a guiding light, offering hope in the vast sea of endless years.
Perhaps that was enough. To carry the feeling, if not the memory.
Yes, he thought, watching a starburst of color ignite the sky.
Fireworks would do nicely.__________________________________________________________________________
Udo danced to the rhythm of the ocean. His body swayed with the strength of the deep. Each step, falling in time with crashing waves, traced bloodied patterns across rain-slick cobblestones. The spear in his hands became an extension of his body, cutting arcs through air and flesh alike. Every movement was a prayer, a warriorâs offering to Nnenne, Grandmother of All.
Her song swelled. Home beckoned across centuriesâa sirenâs call Udo answered with his entire being. For Nnenne, he danced, yes, but also for those who had made his endless life bearable. Harder. Faster. Though no mortal would live to speak of this performance, he poured himself into it all the same.
Steel bit. Arrows hissed. Bullets tore. Yet Udo felt nothing but the rhythm. Nnenneâs tears fell from the sky, cleansing him and the fallen, purifying the ground and washing away the carnage. One with the dance, one with the sea.
Even as poison from a coated blade seeped into his veins, making his movements sluggish, he refused to falter. Bodies crumpled in his wake until only one foe remained standing.
âBe seeing yâall in hell, motherf***ers,â Peter grinned, cocky and unrepentant.
Karleen shook her head and chided, âToo vulgar.â
âAgreed.â Udo chimed in.
Peterâs lower lip jutted out as he puffed up his chest like the man-child he was. âYeah? Whatâd be your final words then, huh?â
Karleen straightened, a spark of challenge in her eyes. âPoetry... or a quote from one of my favorite novels.â She cleared her throat and began to recite:
âIn the twilight of lifeâs grand play,
Where curtains fall and shadows sway,
I'll whisper to the fading light,
A verse to ease the coming nightââ
âKarl,â Peter interrupted, âif youâve got that much energy to deliver a soliloquy, you ainât dying.â
Udo scoffed, âIâm shocked you know what a soliloquy is.â
âShut up.â
âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž looked thoughtful, in the way that usually preceded either profound wisdom or utter nonsense. âYou know, if weâre operating under the âmonologues can never be interruptedâ rule, perhaps a lengthy soliloquy wouldnât be such a bad move. In theory, it would ward off death until the speaker finishes. I could recite the entire âThe Infinite Chronicleâ while waiting for medical attention.â
âAnd you think youâd pull it off?â Peter asked.
âOh no,â came the reply, âthereâs an 80% chance my parting words will be something profoundly eloquent like âWell, that sucks.ââ
Laughter erupted from the group. âWhat about the other 20%?â
âIt depends. If itâs an accident or a friend who kills me, Iâd probably say âI forgive you.â But if itâs someone I donât likeââ
âThereâs people you donât like?â Karleen interjected, surprised.
âOh, absolutely. Anyone who voluntarily eats black licorice is clearly in league with forces beyond mortal comprehension.â âŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïžâŹïž chuckled. âIf itâs someone I donât like, then Iâd try to say something ominous, like... âThe antidote... is in theâŠââ âŹïžâŹïž trailed off with a series of dramatic gasps and wheezes before going limp.
Peter snorted beer out his nose. âDiabolical. And surprisingly petty coming from you.â
âIf theyâve gone to the trouble of murdering me, I think Iâve earned the right to be a little petty. Itâs only polite.â
Peter raised his hands in mock surrender. âNo arguments here, Boss.â
Karleen turned to Udo. âWhat about you?â
âA prayer,â he answered simply. âIf I have time left.â
âOh, come on!â Peter groaned, throwing his hands up. âItâs literally the last thing youâre ever gonna say. Your last hurrah! Make it count! Go out with a bang, not a whimper.âThe memory receded, leaving Udo facing his final opponent in the rain-soaked present, chests heaving.
Fine, he thought,
howâs this then?Udoâs gaze locked onto the man before him, past him, beyond him to the one pulling the strings. He leveled his spear, pointed it at the puppeteer.
The enemy raised his gun.
Udo smirked defiantly, his lips curling around his final words. âF**k you, Marek.â
The spear flew.
The gun fired.
As Udoâs spear pierced through the other man, the bullet shattered his heart. The sky blurred above him as he fell.
He was plummeting, down, downâŠ
The street melted into seafoam. He plunged past earth and stone, sank into the endless blue.Bubbles, pearls of air, escape skyward,
A rush of swirling brine.
Udo sinks, weightless,
Into depths beyond time.
Above, a vast shadow looms,
Its gaze piercing the watery veil.
The dark sentience seeks his mind,
Tendrils probe, grasping for memories,
Only to find echoes and absence.
Fury ripples the boundary of worlds.
Nets descend, hooks glint, a final reach
To claim a soul that was not its to possess.
But Nnenne will not be denied her Grandson;
Her currents cradle him,
Pulling towards her heart,
Away from harm.
Windâs emissaries dive,
Sleek arrows of feather and bone,
Slice through waves with righteous fury.
Beaks and talons flashing silver,
Sever threads of malevolent design.
Movement catches his eyeâ
A beast, familiar yet unknowable,
Wounded and struggling, sinks beside him.
Its mouth works, forming shapes without sound,
Again and again, a name lost to the depths.
âłâłâł âłâłâłâłâłâłâł âłâłâłâłâłâłâłâł
Udoâs heart aches with unspoken apologies,
For this one thing he cannot carry home.
The abyss swallows them both, darkness absolute.
Thenâlight.
Udoâs eyes flutter open to cloudless skies,
As wavelets lap at outstretched limbs,
Homeâs music fills his ears.
His head cradled in grandmotherâs lap,
Her weathered hands, etched with time,
Caress his cheeks with boundless love.
âNno nâỄlá», nwa nwa m nwoke. Anyá» echeworo gá» á»tỄtỄ.â
Welcome home, my dear grandson. Weâve deeply missed you.
âM na-atỄ uche unu niile.â Udo breathes, his heart full.
I missed you all.
âKedu ka njem gá» mere?â she asks.
How was your journey?
A lifetime of stories press against his lips:
âEnwere m á»tỄtỄ ihe m ga-agwa unu.â
I have so much to tell you.
As if in answer, the sky eruptsâ
A blossom of fire and light,
Dazzling as Udo remembers.
Home at last, with tales to tell,
Of a world changed and changing still,
Of those left behind, and those who wait,
On this shore where all journeys end.
A figure cloaked in feathers stepped carefully over the cooling bodies, ââintent on reaching the one that mattered. Wayraâs keen senses picked up the coppery scent of blood mixed with the petrichor from the rain and the smell of spent magic hanging heavy in the air. Beneath it all, a familiar scent. They approached what they knew to be the vessel that once housed Udoâs spirit.
Wayra knelt beside the still form and reached out, tracing the contours of Udoâs face. A smile, frozen in death, greeted their touch. Something tight coiled in Wayraâs chestâregret, perhaps, or a flicker of an emotion they thought long buried. They closed the manâs unseeing eyes and, with unnatural ease granted by arcane might, lifted his body.
As they made their way out of the alley, Wayra paused to retrieve Udo's spear still lodged in the corpse it had felled. The weapon came free with a soft squelch. Wayra left the other bodies littering the ground undisturbed; they were not their concern.
Above, native corvids and birds less familiar to these lands descended, drawn by some unspoken call. Soon, the air filled with the wet sounds of tearing flesh, but Wayra paid them no heed.
Carrying Udoâs body and the spear resting easily in their grasp, they moved on. Behind them, the scavengers continued their grim work, and the rain cleansed what remained.
Consciousness returned in fragments as the world came into focus. Ryn lay prone on the carpet floor, his body struggling to move a muscle. Echoes of pain pulsated through him and his skull pounded relentlessly.
He blinked several times before he could make out the figure kneeling in front of himâPeter, with his trademark bright red hair seeming ablaze in the dim light.
âWelcome back to the land of the living, Boss,â Peter said.