By dawn, the southern smoke had thinned, but it hadn't vanished.
It curled low along the ridges, clinging to the earth like something wounded.
Baba gathered only three hunters — and us.
Not all six children; that would be reckless.
Only the four who had shown the strongest tracking and noise discipline:
Me, Haniwa, Tullen, and Talli.
Tulli and Ren stayed behind to help at the kiln and learn numbers from the elders. They didn't complain. That alone proved how much had changed — children who once feared being alone now feared being excluded from purpose.
Purpose was addictive.
Approach
We moved south at a hunter's pace. Not fast, not loud, but steady. We stopped often — to touch bark, taste wind, listen for breakage.
Baba lifted a hand and we froze.
We smelled it before we saw it:
Not the clean smoke of pottery or cooking meat.
This was harsher. Bitterness clung to the back of the throat. Resin and sap burned with wood that was still too green to burn well.
Talli whispered, "Angry fire."
That was the correct tribal term.
Angry fire wasn't for life. It was for message.
The Message
We crested the final ridge and saw them.
Not Payan.
Not slavers.
Not Alkenny.
A small band — maybe fifteen — had set fire to a clearing. Trees blackened, sap hissed, smoke choked the air. They knelt in a semicircle, facing the blaze. Their hands moved in ritual patterns — tapping ground, striking bodies, scraping nails along bark.
Their heads were shaved. Their robes were rough wool dyed with mud and clay. No weapons except long staffs etched with grooves.
Their faces were smeared with ash.
They were not hiding.
They wanted to be seen.
Haniwa whispered, "What are they?"
Tullen's face was thoughtful. "They make noise like priests."
He wasn't wrong.
The Ritual
We crouched behind ferns as Baba leaned forward, listening.
The lead figure — tall, thin, ash streaked across his brow — slammed his staff into the earth three times.
Thok. Thok. Thok.
Then he shouted over the fire:
"THE FIRE HEARS!"
"THE FIRE SPEAKS!"
"THE FIRE REMEMBERS!"
The others echoed:
"RE-MEM-BERS! RE-MEM-BERS!"
Their voices cracked as smoke clawed their throats.
Talli whispered, "They are… stupid."
Tullen elbowed her. "No. They talk to something."
The System agreed with Tullen, not Talli.
New Cultural Phenomenon Identified: Fire-Speech Ritual
Possible Affiliation: Religious Sect (Proto)
Function: Communication / Warning / Propaganda / Recruitment
Communication in a blind world was hard. Rituals filled that void.
The leader slammed his staff again.
"OUR ENEMIES COME WITH CHAINS!"
"OUR ENEMIES COME WITH IRON!"
"OUR ENEMIES COME WITH HORSE!"
"OUR ENEMIES COME WITH LAW!"
Payan.
He did not say the name, but we all heard it.
Payan brought iron, horses, law — and slaves.
His voice rose:
"WE WILL NOT BOW TO FALSE SIGHT!"
"WE WILL NOT BOW TO FALSE GODS!"
"WE WILL NOT BOW TO FALSE KINGS!"
The fire crackled louder as if agreeing.
Then he said the line that chilled even Baba:
"WE WILL BURN THEM BEFORE WE BOW."
The followers whispered in unison:
"BURN THEM. BURN THEM."
Identification
Tullen leaned toward me. "Who are they burning?"
"Anyone who brings chains," I said.
And anyone who brings order.
The System chimed:
Faction Identified: Ember Tongue Sect
Attitude Toward Payan: Hostile
Attitude Toward Slavers: Hostile
Attitude Toward Tribes: Unknown
Doctrine: Anti-Domination / Anti-Assimilation / Ritual Communication
Strategic Note: Useful but volatile
These were not enemies in the simple sense.
They were enemies of my future enemies.
Useful, if controlled.
Dangerous, if not.
The Reveal
The ritual ended with a final act.
Each follower reached into a clay bowl and scooped a handful of ash. They rubbed it across their faces, then scattered some into the wind.
Then they did something brilliant:
They burned a green pine branch — thick with sap — which produced thick, oily black smoke.
Black smoke meant warning.
Black smoke meant war.
Black smoke meant:
Do not come. Someone will die.
In a blind world, smoke was semaphore.
The sect leader raised his staff and shouted the final message:
"THE FIRE TELLS THEM: THIS LAND IS NOT FOR BUYING!"
A simple line.
A political line.
Then they left — not in panic, not in haste — but with ritual calm, feeling the smoke settle on their robes as they walked north-east.
Away from Alkenny.
Toward the old stone bed road where the Payan caravan had gone.
Baba watched without speaking.
Only when the last ember died did he finally exhale.
Interpretation
On the way back, Haniwa asked the right question.
"What did they want?"
I answered:
"They wanted Payan to hear them."
Tullen asked, "Can Payan hear fire?"
"No," I said. "But Payan can see smoke."
Silence.
Then Baba added:
"And Payan have men who can smell fire on the wind."
He meant scouts.
He meant counter-scouts.
He meant counter-counter scouts.
Layers.
The Tribe Reacts
Back at the village, the council listened as Baba described the sect and their message.
When he finished, the eldest tapped her staff and said:
"Madmen."
Another elder whispered, "Prophets."
A third said, "Warriors."
The white-haired elder said nothing at first — then finally murmured:
"They are walls. Walls against Payan."
Baba nodded once.
"Walls burn when lit," he said. "But walls stop armies first."
The council agreed.
Not with words, but with silence.
Silence was consensus.
📜 STATUS SCREEN — Post Chapter 13 (Checkpoint)
[Name] Kofun
[Age] 3
[Role] Sovereign Seed / Scout (Training)
Retainer Baba Voss — General (Bound)
Traits Dual Perception (Lv.1)
Tactical Insight (Lv.1)
Early Instruction (Lv.1)
Affiliation Alkenny Tribe (Population 57 +4)
Purpose Cohort = Scouts (Emerging)
Known Factions:
• Valley Slavers — Hostile
• Payan Traders — Neutral / Powerful
• Ember Tongue Sect — Hostile to Payan / Unknown to us
Quests:
• A Year of Purpose (350 days remaining)
• First Contact (Payan) — Passive
• Sect Observation — New
Strategic Summary:
Payan → assimilation power
Slavers → extraction power
Sect → disruption power