Moto's eyes opened, finding Sheu crouched beside Najo. Her voice was a soft murmur, her touch patient as she calmed him. Slowly, the tension in Najo's shoulders eased, his ragged breathing giving way to a steady rhythm. A silent witness to their fragile peace, Moto stepped forward.
"What did you guys see?" he asked.
Sheu sat back, her gaze thoughtful. "There was a tree. Massive. I could feel everything around me—like I was part of it. The wind, the soil, even the insects crawling nearby. It was… grounding."
Najo rubbed his arms, his voice tinged with irritation and a trace of shame. "Lightning. It was everywhere. I couldn't move. It felt like it was inside me, but I couldn't control it." He paused. "So this is your shortcut to power? Some sacred trip that dredges up fear and leaves you exposed?"
Trinity replied with a gentle smile. "It's not a shortcut. It's a sacred ritual passed down by our ancestors. They say one day, a child will be born who can ascend to the higher plane—and lead us there to stay forever. That's the purpose of the Hwange."
Moto's eyes widened, captivated. "Really? There's that much more to it?"
"Definitely," Trinity affirmed. "That's why Andzani wouldn't let Amon's people destroy it."
"Sounds like that kid's had it rough," Moto noted.
"Yeah," Trinity agreed.
A quiet moment passed between them, heavy with reflection.
"Well," Trinity said, breaking the silence, "we should get going. It's getting dark."
They arrived at Trinity's home. The girls shared a room, while Moto and Najo took the one next door. A small window connected the two rooms, and Trinity opened it, allowing their conversation to continue.
"So… what do you want from this life?" Moto asked.
Trinity seemed surprised. "I've never been asked that before. I'm not sure."
"C'mon, we all have something we dream about."
A subtle glow lit Trinity's eyes as she looked up. "There it is. Tell us."
Trinity giggled. "I want to travel the world and meet some of the amazing people I've heard about."
"Really? Like who?" Sheu asked.
"There are so many..."
"Give us three."
"Okay, fine. First—someone I've only read about in the papers," Trinity said. "The hero of Sango, Bizure. The Oracle in Nirvana. And… Asher."
Moto's heart skipped a beat. Asher. No one should know about him—not after Kangetsu's warning. "Asher?"
"Yes. He saved Andzani's life. We owe him a great debt," Trinity explained. "When Andzani first started exploring the world, he ended up at Pasi's train station. The fare was practically free. He didn't know it was a one-way trip to hell."
She continued, her voice steady. "When he tried to return, the fee was thirty times what he paid. He couldn't afford it. The conductors beat him, stripped him, and tossed him out. Humiliated, bleeding, he wandered the outskirts. Then the Terrors caught his scent."
Moto, Sheu, and Najo listened intently.
"Just as they were about to devour him, a tall, shredded man with green hair appeared," Trinity continued. "He punched one down, stood in front of Andzani, and took off his shirt to cover him. He poured alcohol on his own body and lit himself ablaze. Then he fought twenty Terrors alone. He didn't even tell Andzani his name. We know him as Asher."
The trio was stunned.
"And that wasn't the end," Trinity said. "He gave Andzani money for the train and told him he hadn't found what he was looking for yet. Andzani stayed with him, training under him. He told Asher, 'Zen has no defense. I can't return weak. Please teach me.'"
Moto listened, pride swelling in his chest. "He accepted?"
"Yes. They trained for two months. When Andzani returned, he pushed for Zen to build a military. He said our peace was fragile—only tolerated because we weren't a threat. Eventually, the king gave him five guardians. We wouldn't be here without Asher."
"You're smiling like you know him," Trinity observed.
"I've heard stories," Moto replied, scratching his head.
"Do tell."
"I heard he has a younger brother… even cooler than him," Moto said with a laugh.
"Really?" Trinity's eyes sparkled. "That sounds made up." Najo scoffed.
Moto laughed nervously.
"Well, I'll add him to my list of people I'd love to meet someday," Trinity mused.
They talked late into the night, then drifted off to sleep. Later, Moto sat alone on the roof, watching the stars.
The Next Morning
They arrived at the castle. Its grand facade gleamed in the morning light. Inside, King Khosa sat on his throne, regal and calm, an aura of quiet authority around him.
"Trinity, my daughter! How are you?" he greeted her.
"Greetings, my king. I hope you've been well," she replied.
"The ancestors have been kind. And your father?"
"He's well, my lord."
"Good to hear. And who are these guests?"
"Travelers from Pasi, on their way to Sango. Moto, Najo… and Sheu."
"Sheu? Shelton said he had a daughter by that name," Khosa mused.
"Yes. This is her. Sadly, her father passed away on a mission."
Khosa's expression softened. "Oh… I'm so sorry to hear that, child. Your father was a good man. Let us honor him with a moment of silence."
The room fell still. Sheu lowered her head, her hands resting in her lap, fingers curled tightly. The silence stretched—heavy, sacred.
"What happened to him?" Khosa asked gently.
Sheu's voice was quiet but steady. "As far as I know… he was sent out. He didn't make it back. I'm hoping to learn more while I'm here."
"He came here twice," Khosa recalled. "The last time, he said he was heading to Nirvana. I don't know what happened after that."
Sheu nodded slowly, her gaze distant as a new piece of the puzzle fell into place.
Khosa paused, then spoke. "Wait. I have something that belonged to him."
He signaled a servant, who bowed and returned with a folded garment. "When he came, his poncho was worn and torn. We had it repaired—with a special plant from Sango. It's strong, resilient… like him."
He handed it to Sheu. "Here. In memory of your father."
Sheu took it gently. Her fingers brushed the fabric. It was slightly oversized, familiar. She had once hated this poncho, for he wore it every time he left. It was a symbol of his absence. Now, draped over her shoulders, it felt like a legacy.
She stood quietly, eyes closed. Grief. Discovery. Resolve. She was beginning to understand him. Beginning to carry what he left behind.