Wura
Night had long since swallowed the forest, and in the total darkness, every tree stretched upward like a menacing silhouette. The silence was heavy, broken only by the relentless chorus of crickets and the distant hooting of an unseen owl.
Sitting against a rough tree trunk, Wura shivered. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, pulled tight against her chest, as if trying to shield herself from the icy air creeping beneath her tunic — now dirty, wrinkled, and stained with earth and dried sweat. Her fingers trembled. She had wandered through the forest for hours, searched under every root, climbed over rocks, explored clearings. Nothing. Not the faintest trace of an amulet. Hope had crumbled, then vanished completely.
They've already found them all… Everyone. Except me.
She closed her eyes in pain, her heart heavy with a mix of exhaustion, fear, and loneliness.
Someone… please… someone get me out of this forest…
A sharp crack of a twig. Close. Too close. She jolted upright, eyes wide, every muscle tensed.
She peered into the darkness, but the dense gloom revealed nothing. Only the leaves stirred, rustled by the wind.
– Who's there?! she shouted, her voice trembling, higher than she intended.
– Hey, came a small voice behind her.
The shock was instant. A chill ran down her spine. Her heart stopped. She screamed, leapt forward with a piercing cry, arms flailing.
– Wura, calm down! It's me, Nath!
She spun around, panting. When she saw his face — his small, apologetic smile — rage surged up inside her. Her hand moved on its own.
– Ow! hissed Nath, clutching his head, eyes wide.
– Are you insane?! You almost gave me a heart attack! she yelled, furious.
– I'm sorry… really… he muttered, rubbing his head.
She took a deep breath to calm herself.
– What are you doing here?
– I'm a Gifted too. I'm taking the Initiation.
– I figured that much. But… why come find me? How did you even find me?
He looked down a little, hesitant.
– I felt kind of lonely, and… I thought maybe we could team up.
Wura stared at him, surprised. He looked sincere. There was something different in his eyes this time — something fragile, like a child afraid to ask.
Her expression softened.
– Alright… that would be nice. (She gripped the hem of her tunic lightly.) I'm kind of… lost too.
– Then let's go, he said with a small smile.
They started walking again, and Wura quickly realized that Nath moved with surprising ease. He avoided obstacles as if he knew them beforehand, navigated without hesitation, never passed the same path twice.
– By the way, he asked suddenly, why do you wear that blindfold?
Wura hesitated. The blindfold often drew suspicion, but it was still easier than enduring the looks people gave her eyes.
– If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, he added quickly.
– No, it's just… I hate the color of my eyes. So I hide them.
Nath gave her a kind smile.
– I'm sure they're not that terrible. You'll show me one day… if you want.
Wura said nothing. She just kept walking.
After a while, Nath spoke again, curious:
– So, the girl from Sinji… what's your Loa?
The question hit her like a sting. She stayed silent. She knew her Loa, but she didn't want to rely on it. She couldn't.
– Apparently… it's the Loa of Noun materialization.
– Whoa. That's huge! A primary Loa… really rare. But why "apparently"?
Tch. Should've kept my mouth shut.
– Forget it, she muttered, waving a hand. I was just talking nonsense. What about you? What's yours?
– I've got… a radar. It lets me detect people's Noun, or anything that contains it.
– So that's how you found me.
– Exactly. But… it's not super helpful in combat, he added with an awkward laugh.
Suddenly, an idea flashed in Wura's mind. Her heart raced, her eyes widened.
– Wait… you can detect the amulets?!
– Theoretically, yeah… but only within twenty meters if their Noun is weak. Fifty if it's stronger.
– What?! That's it?
– Sorry! he replied, startled by her reaction.
Nath stopped. He took a deep breath in, then exhaled slowly. His eyelids lowered, and in the dim light, a faint white glow enveloped his eyes.
– I'm in a trance. I can see Noun as light. Living beings, trees, everything… appear as glowing points, brighter or dimmer depending on their energy.
He slowly scanned the area, focused. Wura watched him closely, holding her breath.
Then he froze. A shiver ran down his spine.
– What is it? she asked.
He turned his head slowly, still half-entranced.
– Someone's watching us.
Wura swept her gaze around, left to right, then right to left. Nothing. Yet Nath seemed to sense something she couldn't. She stayed alert nonetheless.
– I think we should light a fire, Nath said, scanning the trees. We'll search again tomorrow. It's late, and nights here get freezing.
Wura nodded silently.
Nath lit a fire, then started pacing, tinkering with bits of rope and wood.
– What are you doing? she asked.
– Oh, nothing important. Don't worry about it.
She slowly drifted into sleep… until a sudden loud crash jolted her awake. A rope snapped tight with a sharp crack. Looking up, she saw a figure hanging upside down from a branch high above, caught by the foot. A trap. Probably Nath's doing. So he had anticipated an attack… and she hadn't seen it coming at all.
Nath grabbed her hand and pulled her into a mad sprint through the forest.
– Why are they attacking us?! We don't even have an amulet! she cried, breathless.
– It's him, Nath panted between breaths, it's the one I sensed earlier… He was spying on us. No one knows exactly where the amulets are. But with a Radar Loa… they think they'll find them faster.
– So, they're after you…
– I'm afraid so…
She felt her hand grow slippery with sweat, then slip free. He must have known this would happen from the start, maybe that's why he'd come to find her.
— I'm not sure I'm the right ally for you, Nath… You should've teamed up with someone else. My Loa, it…
— Wura… We're friends, right? That's all I needed to know to choose. I'm not with you for what you can do. I just want us to make it. Together.
He gave her a sincere smile, then stepped away to settle in a clear patch of ground.
— Get some sleep. No fire this time.
***
The next morning, they set off again, determined.
— I think most of the amulets have already been taken, Nath murmured. I can barely sense anything anymore.
At that exact moment, a figure leapt from the top of a tree and landed in front of them. The ground seemed to crack beneath her, despite the lightness of her frame. Her body radiated a strange, magnetic power. On her face, black markings formed a pattern — almost like a code — running from her forehead down to her cheeks, shaping even her eyebrows.
Wura stared, intrigued… until a shiver ran down her spine.
It was Nissi.
The past came rushing back, uninvited.
Wura remembered.
Back then, when she still lived in Koéa. Nissi and her brother, Kenya, had been her closest friends. The three of them were inseparable. Nissi had always been the quiet one — shy, gentle, as calm as stream water. She disliked loud games and wild races. While Kenya and Wura played warriors, she sat nearby, braiding fiber dolls with delicate patience, as if the chaos of the world could never reach her.
She loved to heal, too. When Kenya tripped or Wura came back with scraped knees, Nissi would rush over without a word, pulling a cloth, a bit of water, a homemade balm from her pocket. She never said, "It'll be okay." She made it okay.
Wura had thought nothing would ever change… until the day Kenya left. He had gone without a word, leaving behind an emptiness that no doll, no laughter, no game could fill.
Not long after, Wura herself had to leave. She still remembered that last day. Nissi hadn't said anything. She'd just stood there, her small hand clutching a half-braided doll. She didn't cry, but her eyes… her eyes said everything.
And now, years later, she was standing there again. In front of her. Taller. Stronger. But Wura recognized that gaze, calm, silent… and yet so heavy.
Something cracked gently inside her.
— Nissi…? she breathed, as if saying her name could awaken a lost piece of her childhood.
Wura took a step forward, hand outstretched, as if one simple gesture could erase the years between them.
But the blow didn't come from movement, it came from words.
Nissi slapped her hand away, sharp and hard.
— Don't touch me, she spat with disgust.
Wura staggered back, stunned, but the pain was nothing compared to the look in Nissi's eyes.
It wasn't the gaze of the child who used to braid dolls. It was cold, hard, burning with a restrained fury and bitter resentment.
— What's it been… five years since you left? Nissi said, her voice trembling with venom. Five years since you abandoned us?
Wura paled.
— No, I… I had to… she began, throat tightening.
— Doesn't matter, Nissi cut in, her voice sharp as a blade. I'm not here for a reunion. I want the amulets. And for that, I need your friend. Nothing else.
Wura froze.
— We could work together, she tried. We don't have to fight, not you and me…
— Keep dreaming, Nissi said with a short, humorless laugh. You don't belong here. You play at being a warrior, but you know nothing. Nothing of what it costs. Of what we lose. Of what we become.
She looked her up and down with icy contempt.
— You're weak. Ignorant. A fraud. You won't last long. I'll save you the trouble by ending this now.
Her words fell like stones into the silence.
Wura felt her heart splinter. This Nissi, she didn't recognize her. But deep down, she knew that somewhere beneath the anger, a fragment of the girl she'd once known was still there — wounded, betrayed.
— Wura… Nath murmured, tense as a drawn bowstring. Her power… it's like a tidal wave. Her noun flow is monstrous. I… I think I should surrender.
— No!
Wura's voice cracked through the air, firm despite the fear in it. She stepped forward, placing herself between Nath and Nissi.
— If we have to fight, then we'll fight. Together. Strong or not, we're still here. With or without a loa. And if fighting is the only language you understand, then I'll speak it with my fists.
She clenched her hands. Not for war…
but for the friend she refused to lose. Even now.
— She won't hurt me as long as she needs what I have, Nath tried to reassure her.
But Nissi lunged before he could finish. They barely dodged in time. She struck Wura with a fierce kick, the impact sent her flying, breathless.
— See why you're useless to me? Nissi spat. You're a weakness that needs to be erased.
Nath charged, fist raised. Nissi dodged easily, countered with a heel strike to his head. He dropped, unconscious.
With terrifying ease, she lifted him onto her shoulder and vanished into the trees.
Still on the ground, Wura fought to get up. Pain flared through her ribs, but she had no choice. She had to save Nath.
She stumbled, leapt, gritted her teeth. Finally, she saw her.
— NISSI! she screamed.
The other turned, a smirk curling her lips.
Wura rushed forward. She struck again and again, but Nissi dodged every blow with fluid precision. Carrying Nath didn't even slow her down. Then, in one motion, she hurled him against a tree. Before Wura could react, an arrow shot out of nowhere — piercing Nath's palm and pinning it to the bark.
Wura screamed. A raw, tearing sound. This couldn't be Nissi. It couldn't.
Fueled by a blazing rage, she charged. Her fist crashed into Nissi's face. Nissi didn't move. Wura struck again. And again. Each blow carried her grief, her fury, her fear. Nissi staggered backward under the onslaught.
Then, just as Wura lifted her arm for the final strike, she saw it…
A smile. Cruel.
— Fool, Nissi whispered.