Wura
At last.
She could finally be rid of the heavy burden she'd carried… since that cursed day when her Loa had awakened, reducing her family to dust. She would never forgive herself.
A hot tear slid down her cheek.
— After you've taken my blood, she shouted, promise me you'll let my friend go! He never should have been here… he only wanted to help me.
The creature sneered.
— Promise! You have my word. Besides, what is common blood worth after I've feasted on yours?
Wura closed her eyes, bracing for the bite of steel against her flesh.
A shiver ran down her spine. Something unseen, viscous, coiled around her, squeezing her chest until it crushed the air from her lungs.
Do you want to die?
The hissing voice echoed in her head. A cold breath slid down her neck.
She half-opened her eyelids. There, in the shifting shadows of the alley, a shape was slowly unfolding.
Die, and I will follow you… After all, I am you. I am your burden.
Her stomach tightened. No. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It should have disappeared.
Then, suddenly, a dull noise split the air. Something rammed into the witch with the force of a battering ram.
Wura collapsed into the dust as soon as she was freed from its grip. She coughed, wiped her tears with the back of her hand to see more clearly.
Morio.
Her heart loosened in its vise at the sight of him still standing… but it didn't last.
A jet of blood splattered across her face.
The creature had counterattacked instantly, driving its claws straight through Morio's abdomen.
A sharp scream tore from Wura's throat.
She saw the witch shake her arm free of her friend's bloodied body with disdain. Everything felt unreal. Another reality. A nightmare.
Hot tears welled in her eyes, then a howl of rage ripped out of her.
The witch turned her head toward her. Wura was already on her feet, trembling.
An electric wave surged through her body. Something exploded inside her, a flood of power radiating through every limb.
Her club shattered under the force of the blow she struck against the witch. She didn't know when she had dropped it, but she no longer needed it. Her fists landed with supernatural precision, her feet found their mark without thought.
In the dark corners of the alley, the writhing shadow stirred.
Yes…
Wura seized the witch's hair and forced her down with a knee strike. Her skull hit the stone. Once. Twice. Three times.
She pinned her down, knee pressed to her spine, hand clutching her throat.
Temples pounding, she stared with icy detachment at the blood staining the gray pavement, the bruises spreading across her enemy's body.
Nothing. She felt nothing.
The shadow, crouching in the dark, twisted with amusement.
Again.
But the witch no longer moved. Her limbs slackened.
She had lost consciousness.
— You… need to run, Wura! Morio's weak voice called out.
Wura rushed to him, relieved he was still alive.
— Maybe I was wrong about you, said a voice she hadn't expected to hear so soon.
She turned her head.
Where she had left the witch, no body lay on the ground.
— Behind you! Morio shouted, coughing blood.
Too late.
A kick sent her flying away from him.
The witch laughed, exhilarated despite the gaping wound split across her forehead.
— You're unkillable, Wura snarled.
She tried to stand. Her muscles froze. Her strength… gone.
It's useless.
The shadow's eyes glimmered in the darkness.
Wura tried to move. Nothing. She pounded the ground with all her might to push herself up.
You're always a burden at decisive moments, that's why your parents died.
At that instant, Wura felt her will to fight drain away. Her shoulders slumped, her gaze dimmed. The shadow was probably right. It was all useless.
The witch advanced, calm, victorious.
***
Suddenly, hurried footsteps clattered across the rooftops.
Two silhouettes landed abruptly.
A man bristling with weapons and a woman dressed in white, resembling the priests of the voodoo temples, stepped between her and her tormentor.
The man drew his sword.
He struck.
A metallic hiss.
Then, the witch's head rolled across the cobblestones with a dull thud.
The woman, meanwhile, rushed to Morio. Wura, still unable to move, crawled toward them.
The stranger chanted incantations, applied a dark paste to Morio's gaping wounds. Luminous Vévés appeared above the injuries, green wisps curling out of them.
Wura turned a shaken gaze toward the decapitated body of the witch.
A shudder rattled her throat.
These creatures. These people.
The second face of the Coin.
A world she had wanted to keep far from her.
A world she had thought she'd broken free from.
But reality had caught up to her.
She was safe nowhere.
Behind her, the writhing shadow did not move.
It waited.
***
The man stepped closer to his companion.
— You're Gifted, aren't you? Wura asked cautiously. What are you doing here?
— What do you think, little idiot? the woman snapped. We're doing our job. You're the one who never should've been here. But after all, I won't complain: you served as bait to get rid of that Pacter.
— Ilora! her partner intervened. Don't be so harsh. They're just kids…
— They had no business being out on a Cursed night, for God's sake! (Her fists clenched slightly.) They're lucky they didn't get slaughtered like the others who try stunts like this. If they'd run into a stronger pacter…
— You're right. (He turned to Wura.) Forgive my colleague. My name is Yoweri, and this is Ilora. She can't stand seeing people killed by sorcerers. But when people throw themselves into the wolf's jaws… it makes her even angrier. But you couldn't have known…
Wura clenched her jaw. Even though Vignon had trapped her by leaving her at school during the Cursed night, she should've stayed despite her gnawing hunger.
— It's all my fault, my friend only wanted to help me. But he's the one who paid the price.
— What's your name?
— Wura. Sina Wura.
— A Koean? Interesting.
— A Gifted One too, added Ilora. Her Noun flared just minutes before we arrived. In fact, that's what drew my attention here.
My Noun flared? Wura thought.
But that had nothing to do with what happened with my parents three years ago… No golden body, no massacre.
— You must be confused, said Yoweri. It's normal. Most of us—by us I mean the Rada—still don't know what the real life of the Gifted is. To everyone else, some are born chosen by the gods and carry a Loa inside them. That makes them spiritually closer to the gods. On the other side, pacters—or sorcerers, as everyone calls them—are seen as incarnations of evil. But the truth is far more complex…
— She'll learn during her passage rite, Ilora cut in. It's not for you to tell her.
Yoweri nodded.
— But still, my dear Wura, you need to know one main thing: Gifted are the good guys and pacters are the bad guys.
A bitter laugh escaped her.
— Why are you laughing? he asked.
— Because what you just said is nonsense. I may not know everything, but I know this: no one is born good or evil. People's interests simply clash. In other words, I may be Gifted, but I'm far from the good little girl you imagine.
— Maybe you're not so stupid after all, Ilora admitted, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
— Fine, clever girl. If you know what you are, I guess you plan to join us someday? You're going to go through the passage Rite?
— Join you?
— Yeah. I'm what they call a Black Warrior and Ilora's a Priestess—or a Mambo, if you prefer. We use our voodoo powers to keep order and peace in Rada, slaying sorcerers, for example. Pretty cool, right? If you join us, you'll be able to work during Cursed Nights, since that already seems to be your thing. You're off to a good start.
He burst out laughing. Wura caught the icy glare his companion shot him, but he didn't falter.
— Pretty cool, yeah. Just one tiny problem. I hate Loas. I'll never submit to them. So you can keep your night patrols to yourselves.
Yoweri's smile faded. He stared at her as if she had just uttered blasphemy.
— What? But that's…
— If that's true, and you didn't use it today… how do you explain that burst of power? Ilora cut in.
— Indeed, you did manage to put that pacter in a bad way. Even if, unfortunately, they can only be finished off with the proper equipment.
— I have no idea! All I know is, it wasn't the Loa. I know what it looks like when it acts. It's golden, like my eyes. It can manifest into forms capable of wiping out ten people in an instant. That's the abomination living inside me.
Silence stretched for several seconds.
— Mmf, Ilora grunted, slightly irritated. Your friend's wound will heal. I poured in all the Noun necessary. He should recover. But he needs rest, and more conventional care… in a hospital.
Wura felt an immense weight lift from her chest. Fresh air rushed into her lungs. She would never have forgiven herself if the worst had happened.
Yoweri and Ilora stood. The priestess uttered an incantation, wrapping Wura in a glowing green mist. A strange sensation filled her limbs, and suddenly, her body was fully functional again.
The two Gifted ones quickly turned on their heels.
— Thank you for Morio…
— Think carefully, Wura, Yoweri added with a sly smile. The side of good needs new recruits. We'll crush evil together. Think about it.
Wura watched them walk away, her gaze dark.
These people understood nothing.
And she had no intention of becoming like them.