**Chapter Six: Spiritwalk**
477 Words
The night before the red moon, Awele couldn’t ignore the pull anymore.
It wasn’t just the heat on her chest or the whispers haunting her dreams—it was the beat in her bones, like an old drum calling her from deep down.
She slipped out of the compound quietly.
No waking Toba.
No looking back.
The village was asleep, the wind restless. Smoke from cooking fires twisted into strange shapes—snakes with two heads, crying faces, spirals of ash. Even the stars looked dim.
Awele walked barefoot through the forest until she got to the old fig tree.
And this time, the path showed itself before her foot hit the ground.
The hidden path welcomed her.
---
She walked for what felt like a day, or maybe just an hour. Who knows?
There was no sun, no shadows—only light shifting, glowing blue one second and soft red the next. The air buzzed with energy. The trees looked like they were fading, like ghosts remembering their past.
Then she spotted it: a gate made of black stone, with two statues standing watch.
One was a woman cradling fire. The other was a man with a mirror for a face.
The woman statue shifted.
> “You walk where spirits fear to go,” it said.
> “I was called,” Awele whispered.
> “Do you have the mark?”
Awele pulled down the cloth around her chest.
The spiral shone bright.
The gate opened.
---
What was beyond was nothing like she’d thought it would be.
The ground throbbed with light. Floating islands hung in the distance. Rivers flowed backward, and birds sang in languages long forgotten.
At the center was a temple—old, cracked, glowing with energy.
Awele stepped forward—and the world shook.
Then everything went black.
When she opened her eyes again, she was back in her grandmother’s hut.
But it felt different.
The air was filled with palm wine and herbs. The floor looked cleaner. The fire was blazing.
And by the hearth... was Mama Nnenna.
Alive.
---
Awele dropped to her knees, tears spilling over. “Mama—how—?”
Nnenna smiled softly, not saying a word.
Awele lunged forward, but just as she reached out, the hut vanished—and she was tumbling through darkness.
Voices screamed around her.
> “You left us behind!”
> “You carry fire and forget the ash!”
> “You are marked for both worlds—but belong to neither!”
She hit the ground hard—on her knees—in a stone room.
And in front of her stood a spirit child. The same one from her dream.
Tied to the burning tree.
But now, he smiled.
> “Welcome, Flamekeeper,” he said. “Your first trial starts now.”
- Writer
