**Chapter Ten: A Debt of Blood**
371 Words
The gate was opening.
Not with any noise, but with quiet cracks—like tiny breaks in reality that only Awele could sense.
She noticed them:
In mirrors showing places she’d never seen.
In shadows stretching longer than they should.
In her dreams, where her mother stood at the edge of a cliff, whispering, “You cannot save both.”
Toba stayed right by her side.
He carved spirit charms from palm wood and wore them as necklaces.
“I’m not a warrior,” he said one evening. “But I’d rather die with you than live while you fight alone.”
Awele looked at him carefully.
“Then you need to know the truth,” she told him.
---
That night, she took him to the fig grove.
The Spiral on her chest lit the way without needing a torch.
They entered the dream world together.
For the first time, Toba crossed over.
He stumbled as the spirit world surrounded them: floating roots, glowing moons, children humming lullabies without eyes.
And right in the middle of the dream temple was Ezeora.
Toba fell to one knee.
“She’s real,” he whispered.
“She’s ancient,” Awele corrected him.
Ezeora walked toward him. “You carry the rhythm of the old blood,” she said. “The Drummer’s Son.”
Toba blinked. “My father?”
“He was a Guardian once, just like her,” Ezeora said, nodding at Awele. “But he chose love over duty. And now… you have to pay the price.”
---
The fire around the temple rose.
Then… her mother appeared.
Not a ghost. Not a vision.
Real.
Dressed in white. Glowing softly. Sad-eyed.
“Awele,” she said gently. “You’re strong.”
“You’re alive?” Awele whispered.
“Half-alive. Half-bound.”
Toba stepped back.
Her mother continued, “To close the gate, someone has to take my place.”
Ezeora’s voice echoed: “A life for a life. A blood debt must be paid.”
Awele's breath caught.
“No,” she whispered. “You want me to choose between you and the world?”
Her mother nodded, tears flowing down her cheeks.
“You must choose who burns.”
- Writer
