The memory of the cliff stayed with Elsha long after Steve had left.
He sat alone in his small house, staring at the darkness in front of him. The conversation with Steve had brought back things he had spent so much time trying to forget. Jamhuri High School. The years that followed. The life he had once believed would continue in a simple and predictable way. And then there was her.
Sasha.
Even thinking about her name made something inside him tighten.
He had lived for so long that memories had become strange things. Some remained as clear as if they had happened yesterday, while others had faded into fragments that he could barely understand. Yet the memory of Sasha had survived everything. The years, the battles, the cultivation, the betrayal, and even death itself had not managed to completely erase her.
Then there was the cliff.
Elsha closed his eyes. For a brief moment, he could almost feel the cold air rushing past his body again. He remembered the helplessness of falling, the certainty that his life was ending, and the strange silence that came after. He had thought that moment was the end.
Instead, somehow, it had become another beginning.
He opened his eyes, and the small room returned to him. Rusty iron sheets. An old bed. A wooden chair. A small table with almost nothing on it.
This was his life now.
And strangely enough, he was satisfied.
He did not want palaces. He did not want treasures. He did not want people bowing before him. He did not want to return to that endless world where every powerful person had an enemy waiting somewhere in the shadows.
He wanted to wake up, work, eat, sleep, and watch another ordinary day pass.
That was enough.
At least, that was what he kept telling himself.
Morning came before he realized it. Nairobi slowly began to make its usual noise. Somewhere in the distance, an engine coughed to life. People started moving through the streets, and the occasional voice of someone calling for transport could already be heard.
Elsha stood, washed his face, and prepared himself for another day. By the time he stepped outside, the morning had already taken control of the neighborhood.
He walked toward the city, moving with the same calm pace he had developed since returning to this life. Around him, Nairobi was already busy. Matatus moved along the roads, some packed with passengers while others stopped suddenly to pick up anyone waving from the roadside. Conductors leaned out of doors calling destinations, competing with the noise of engines and the constant movement of pedestrians.
Elsha watched all of it without much thought. There was something comforting about the chaos. Nobody cared who he had once been. Nobody knew what existed inside his body. Nobody knew that the quiet man walking toward a small meat stall had once stood among beings whose power could shake the heavens.
To everyone else, he was simply Elsha.
A young man selling meat.
And that was exactly how he wanted it.
When he arrived at the market, the familiar smell of charcoal and roasted meat welcomed him before he even reached his stall. The place was already becoming crowded. Traders arranged their goods, customers moved between stalls, and voices rose from every direction.
Elsha unlocked his stall and began preparing for the day. The first thing he did was light the charcoal. Smoke rose slowly before spreading into the air. He arranged the meat carefully, prepared his spices, and checked the small amount of stock he had left.
"Karibu," he called when the first customer approached.
The words had become natural to him.
"Karibu nyama choma."
He smiled slightly. A month ago, he had barely known how to operate a business in this world. Now he understood the small things that mattered. How much charcoal he needed. Which pieces of meat customers preferred. How much he could charge without losing customers. When the market was busiest. When people were likely to bargain.
These were problems he enjoyed.
They were ordinary problems.
As he worked, a woman's voice came from the stall beside his.
"Morning, Elsha."
He turned his head.
"Morning, Esther."
Esther was already arranging clothes outside her small stall. Her business sat directly beside his, and over the weeks she had become one of the familiar faces of his daily routine. She was older than him and seemed to have mastered the art of watching everything happening around the market without appearing to watch anything at all.
She picked up one of the clothes she had brought out and shook it before hanging it properly.
"You came early today."
"I always come early."
Esther glanced at him.
"No. Today you came earlier."
Elsha looked at her.
"Maybe I slept early."
"Maybe."
She gave him a look that suggested she did not believe him, then returned to arranging her clothes.
Their conversations were usually like that. Nothing important. Nothing deep. Just two people who saw each other almost every morning and had slowly become part of each other's routine.
Elsha liked it that way.
There were no questions about his past. No questions about where he came from. No expectations. Just a simple greeting, a simple conversation, and a familiar face beside his stall.
The morning became busier. Customers came and went. Some ate standing nearby while others took their meat away. Elsha moved between the grill and the counter, his hands working almost automatically. He would cut the meat, season it, roast it, serve it, collect the money, and repeat the process.
Now and then, Esther would call him if something fell on her side of the stall or if a customer accidentally moved too close to the clothes she had displayed. Sometimes she would tease him about his serious face.
"You should smile more," she told him at one point.
"I am smiling."
Esther looked at him.
"You call that smiling?"
Elsha almost laughed.
"I'm working."
"Exactly. You work like someone is chasing you."
He looked at her for a moment.
If only she knew.
Esther returned to her clothes without realizing how close her words had come to the truth.
Elsha shook his head and continued working.
By midday, the market had become louder. The smell of roasted meat mixed with the smell of food from other stalls. Vehicles moved along the nearby road, occasionally filling the air with horns. People argued over prices, laughed with friends, and hurried from one place to another.
This was the life Elsha had chosen.
Simple. Messy. Ordinary.
And for a man who had spent so long surrounded by extraordinary things, ordinary had become precious.
He was reaching for another piece of meat when something caught his attention.
A familiar feeling.
Not a supernatural one. Not an aura. Just the strange feeling of being watched.
He lifted his head.
People were moving through the market. Nothing appeared unusual.
Then he saw her.
Jasmine.
She was standing several meters away, partially hidden among the people passing through the market.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, neither moved.
Jasmine looked different from the frightened girl he had found in Kangemi. She was dressed neatly, and there was something about the way she carried herself that made her stand out among the ordinary movement of the market.
Elsha stared at her.
She smiled.
Then she began walking toward him.
He lowered his eyes and continued working as though he had not seen her. A few seconds later, she stopped in front of the stall.
"You really work here."
Elsha looked up.
"I told you I did."
"You didn't."
"I told you I had a business."
"You didn't tell me where."
He shrugged.
"You found it."
Jasmine smiled.
"I told you I would."
Elsha looked at her for a moment. He still could not understand how she had managed to find him so easily, but he decided not to ask.
"What do you want?"
"To see you."
"That is not a reason."
"It is for me."
Elsha sighed quietly and looked past her.
"You shouldn't be here."
Jasmine's smile faded slightly.
"Why?"
"Because people were chasing you yesterday."
"I know."
"And you came back?"
She looked at him for a few seconds before answering.
"I wanted to thank you."
"You already did."
"I wasn't finished."
Elsha shook his head.
"You don't need to thank me again."
Jasmine looked toward the grill.
"What are you selling?"
"Meat."
"I can see that."
"Then why ask?"
She smiled.
"You really don't make conversations easy."
"I don't try to."
She laughed softly.
For a moment, things felt almost normal.
Then Elsha noticed something.
Jasmine kept looking around. Not in a way that suggested she was simply admiring the market. Her eyes moved toward the road, then toward the people behind her, then back toward Elsha.
It was subtle.
But he noticed.
He had spent too many years watching enemies to miss small movements.
"You're looking for someone?" he asked.
Her expression changed for only a second.
"No."
Elsha said nothing.
She looked back at him.
"I just don't know this place."
"Then why come?"
"I told you. I wanted to see you."
He studied her. There was something she was not saying. He had known that from the first night.
Her story about the party had never sounded complete. She had gone to a party, a fight had broken out, she had left, and somehow ended up being chased by armed men.
There were too many missing pieces.
But Elsha had no desire to collect them.
Whatever trouble Jasmine was involved in was not his business. He had already made that mistake once. He had become involved because she had hidden behind him. He had used his power. And now he wanted to forget the entire incident.
"You should go home," he said.
Jasmine looked at him.
"I know."
"Then go."
She smiled faintly.
"You're very good at sending people away."
"I have work."
She glanced toward Esther's stall. Esther had been quietly arranging a stack of clothes, but she had clearly noticed Jasmine.
Jasmine looked back at Elsha.
"Is she your wife?"
Elsha nearly stopped moving.
"No."
Esther heard the question and looked over.
"Who is asking about me?"
Jasmine smiled politely.
"Nobody."
Esther gave Elsha a curious look before returning to her clothes.
Elsha sighed.
"You should leave."
Jasmine laughed.
"Fine."
She turned around and began walking away.
Elsha watched her go. He expected that to be the end of it.
It wasn't.
Jasmine had barely walked ten steps when she stopped. She turned around.
"Elsha."
He looked at her.
"Thank you."
He nodded.
She smiled and disappeared into the crowd.
Elsha stared after her for a few seconds before returning to his work.
Esther glanced at him.
"Interesting."
"What?"
"The girl."
"Nothing is interesting."
Esther raised an eyebrow.
"You sure?"
"Yes."
She smiled.
"Okay."
Elsha knew she did not believe him, but she did not ask anything else.
The rest of the afternoon passed without incident. At least, that was what Elsha thought.
He continued serving customers and occasionally spoke with Esther. Slowly, the market began settling as the afternoon moved toward evening.
Yet the image of Jasmine remained somewhere in the back of his mind.
Not because he was attracted to her. Not because he wanted to know her secrets.
Something else bothered him.
The way she had looked around. The way her smile had changed when he asked whether she was looking for someone. And most of all, the fact that she had returned so soon after being chased through the streets.
Elsha had lived long enough to understand one thing.
People did not run like that for no reason.
He pushed the thought away.
Whatever Jasmine's problem was, it had nothing to do with him.
At least, that was what he wanted to believe.
Evening arrived, and Elsha began closing the stall. Esther was also packing some of her clothes away.
"You're leaving?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Tomorrow?"
"Of course."
Esther smiled.
"Good."
Elsha looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because someone has to keep this place alive."
He shook his head.
"You talk too much."
"And you don't talk enough."
They both smiled.
For a brief moment, everything felt peaceful.
Elsha locked his stall and began walking toward the stage. Nairobi was changing into its evening form. The streets were filling again as people rushed home, while others were only beginning their nights. Matatus competed for passengers, headlights appeared one after another, and the familiar sounds of the city followed him as he made his way through the streets.
He looked around.
This was the life he wanted.
No enemies.
No cultivation.
No battles.
Just another evening in Nairobi.
He reached his home later that night and entered quietly. The room was dark. He lit the small light and placed his things down. For a while, he simply sat on the bed, his eyes moving around the room.
Then he noticed something.
On the small table was a piece of paper.
He frowned.
He was certain it had not been there when he left that morning.
Elsha stood slowly. He walked toward the table and picked it up.
There was no writing on it. Just a folded piece of paper.
He turned it over.
Nothing.
His eyes narrowed. For the first time that day, the calmness disappeared from his face.
He could sense nothing unusual. No powerful aura. No spiritual pressure. Nothing that belonged to the world he had left behind.
This was different.
He unfolded the paper.
There was only one sentence written inside.
I need to talk to you.
Elsha stared at the words.
He immediately thought of Jasmine.
But he knew something else.
He had never told her where he lived.
And she had no reason to leave a note inside his house.
He slowly looked toward the door.
The room became completely silent.
Then, from outside, came the sound of footsteps.
They stopped directly in front of his house.
Elsha remained still.
A moment later, there was a knock.
Once.
Calm.
Deliberate.
Elsha looked at the note in his hand.
For the first time since returning to Nairobi, he wondered whether the simple life he had chosen was already beginning to slip away from him.