Mashal landed on the ground, stumbled and fell flat on his face. He had been struggling to keep his eyes open. His bulging muscles began to atrophy. He lost weight, his physical appearance became so vulnerable that his bones protruded.

  Hakim and the others approached him. The Sage of the Law lifted him carefully. He shook his head.

  “You old fool! You knew you would die using your strongest Ofó. Yet you put yourself at risk.”

  “For the first time in my life, I saw the Revolution. Too bad it didn't bring about the transformation I wanted.”

  Ekundayo knelt down next to him. The medium gave him his best smile and said:

  “Don't say that, you single-handedly defeated a general of the Phalanx.”

  “No, young man, nobody conquers anything alone, cof-cof.”

  “Say no more, we'll take you to Feruzi.”

  “Feruzi can't save me, not this time, cof. I've lived a life that deserved to be lived.”

  Mashal's eyes lost their shine. Ekundayo turned his face away. Fadala made the sign of the cross. Carefully, Hakim closed the old medium's eyes.

  A mournful breeze blew across the battlefield. It was nature's way of saying that it had rescued his spirit from his body. And Mashal's soul was standing before the others. Next to him was Ewansiha. They watched as the young men led the body through the ruined rebel camp.

  “If you'd always fought like you did today, you'd have got me out of a lot of trouble throughout my life, Ewansiha.”

  “I'm not the best man in the world, Mashal. I never wanted to be an Ori medium or Guardian. I wanted to be a simple bureaucrat. To have a good salary, a house of my own, a wife, two or three children, who knows, and die a natural death in a house in the countryside after middle age. You can't have everything...”

  “I'm sorry, but your mediumship couldn't be wasted.”

  “Mashal...”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think that boy can change Ilu Nla's fate? His chances of victory seem pretty slim to me.”

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  “A sheepherder killed a giant with a stone.”

  “You really are an incorrigible romantic.”

  “If we don't dream of possibilities, they cease to exist.”

  Ewansiha removed his top hat and smoothed out the strands of hair that stubbornly fought against baldness. He had never really understood the selflessness with which mediums fought. It was as if death didn't exist for them, or rather, it was a friend, a confidant.

  When he took up his post as ambassador to England, he thought he had abandoned that world. Ancestry frightened him. It was as if the weight of an entire tradition had to be carried throughout his life. It took the death of a dear friend for him to reconsider.

  He looked at the ex-sage and gave a nod indicating that it was time to leave. The pair turned their backs on Hakim and his friends and started walking in the opposite direction. Little by little, they disappeared into the darkness of the night. They headed for Orun, the sky beyond the sky.

  ?

  He opened his eyes. The morning chill crept in from under the covers. He raised his head. Next to him were Feruzi and Spin Bomb. The deep circles under his eyes revealed his physical and mental fatigue. Right behind them were his father and grandfather. Hakim and Ekundayo were sitting in a corner of the room, and Fadala was leaning against a wall.

  The teenager smiled. Gradually, the smile turned into a grim face. The boy felt a strong jolt in his heart. There was one less person there.

  “Where is Mr. Mashal?”

  The question echoed in the room without an answer. He stood up unsteadily. Spin Bomb tried to stop him leaving the room, but Feruzi stopped her.

  Akachi began to sob. With great effort, she contained the cry in her throat. Tears gathered on her eyelids. It was like the flowing waters of a river that had found a barrier in the middle of the path. The young man felt a great melancholy, one he hadn't felt for a long time.

  He left Azekel's residence. To his surprise, what had once been a community was in ruins. In his eyes, everyone looked dead. Akachi walked with one hand on his chest, stretching out his shirt as if to extract all the pain from it.

  The wind swept the debris and smoke from one side to the other. He wondered where the people were.

  “Is anyone there? Mr. Mashal, where are you? No, he's not dead. He's not, I know he's not.”

  Tears and snot started pouring down his chin. The dam of tears had burst. He walked through the rubble until he saw a gravestone in the middle of a vacant lot. He walked over to it. Even without any inscriptions, he knew who lay in that makeshift grave.

  The boy fell to his knees in front of the headstone. He cradled his face in his hands. He squeezed his hair between his fingers. Then, in a rage, he began to pound the ground with both hands.

  “Damn it! Nobody should die because of me. That's not fair! It's not fair!”

  “He didn't die in vain, he sacrificed himself for you. Don't belittle that.”

  Hakim came up behind him a few steps away. The Sage of the Law knew how painful that moment was for him, he decided not to invade his space.

  “Are you an idiot? He's not dead. It must have been some plan devised by the masters of suspicion to deceive the enemy. They're strategists.”

  “No, young man. Don't fool yourself like that.”

  Feruzi appeared in front of him. Akachi collapsed to the ground. She lay in a fetal position with her arms wrapped around her knees. The tears stopped.

  “So... this is how it ends? People come into my life and die because of me. If that's the case, I'd rather die in their place. It's all my fault.”

  Everyone surrounded Akachi. The boy seemed to be crushed by a ton of sadness. He scratched the ground with his fingertips. Ekundayo took the floor this time.

  “Listen, Akachi. In Ilu Nla, unlike other cultures, we don't mourn the departure of the living, we celebrate the passing of the dead. What for some is a moment of sadness, for us is a rite of transformation. Death, for mediums, has never been an end in itself, only a continuity.”

  Akachi saw someone else approaching, it was Fenyang. The Ori Guardian held out his hand to him. Akachi accepted it and got up from the ground.

  “Mr. Mashal. I can't do anything about it, but I can keep fighting to protect those I love.”

  “That's how you say it, bro.”

  Azekel and Adisa gave Akachi a comforting hug. At that moment, he had gone from being a boy to a man.