The sun was still lazy, barely dragging itself over the horizon. Morning mist clung to the grass, and the village below smelled like wet dirt, cooking fires, and goat poop — the usual Murenga breakfast scent.
Kael stood on the ridge, arms crossed, eyes on nothing. His lion totem pendant hung against his chest, warm like it had a fever. It always did that when something was about to go wrong.
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
"You're doing that thing again," Dendera said, his voice slow and steady, like a boulder with a mouth. "The face you make before things go bad."
Kael didn't move. "Things are fine."
"Liar," Dendera grinned. "You said that before the cursed well exploded."
"That was Tafara's fault."
"Hey!" Tafara's voice floated up from below. "The well exploded after I threw the dagger."
Kael sighed, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. This was the Bloodbound Circle, the best warriors in Murenga's army — and the biggest pains in Kael's life.
At the bottom of the hill, Tafara was juggling his twin crescent daggers. "So, are we getting paid for this mission, or is it another 'protect the kingdom for honor' job?"
"Honor," Kael said.
"Trash." Tafara caught both daggers in one hand and spun them like windmills.
Ranga sat on a boulder, chewing on dried meat, his twin flaming spears leaning nearby. "At least we get to stab something. Haven't roasted anyone in weeks."
Nyeredzi stood apart, half in this world, half in the next. Her pale eyes flickered like someone tuning between two stations, her fingers tracing invisible patterns in the air — whispers from the spirits.
Kael's totem pulsed again, and deep in his chest, the lion spirit stirred. Not the usual growl — something deeper, older, waiting for him to step forward.
The Ceremony of Dawn Spears was meant to be simple. The village elders would smear goat blood on their faces, chant some confusing words, and then send them north to check the Wall — the ancient barrier between Murenga and the cursed lands beyond.
But when Kael stepped forward, the elder's hand trembled.
"The lion inside you…" the elder whispered.
Kael's smile was sharp. "It's awake."
The elder's eyes flicked to Kael's pendant, its tiny lion eyes red with dried blood. No one asked whose blood. No one wanted to know.
Their mission was to patrol the Northern Wall, check for Vhuramu scouts, and come home. Easy.
But the moment Kael set foot on the path, something pulled him north. Not orders. Not duty. Something older.
Unseen, Liora followed from the trees, her silver eyes glowing faintly in the shadows like twin moons. She moved like mist, her spiritwood bow slung across her back, each arrow carved to cut flesh and spirit alike.
She knew Kael's name — even though they'd never met.
The Northern Wall stood cracked and weathered, ancient carvings crawling across its surface like scars. Tafara, naturally, kicked it.
Nothing happened.
Kael stepped closer. Something was half-buried in the dirt — a bone charm, twisted and black, edges scorched as if it had survived a fire that never went out.
He knelt, fingers brushing the charm's surface.
The world lurched.
A voice thundered inside his skull, ancient and heavy.
"My cub. My blood. Finally."
Kael collapsed to his knees. His hands clawed the dirt, fingers twisting into curved talons, skin cracking as golden fur pushed through.
His eyes blazed — not just lion gold, but something too bright, too ancient.
The Bloodbound Circle stumbled back.
"Kael?" Dendera's voice was cautious.
Kael's head snapped up.
His smile was all teeth, none of it human.
"Run."
The Elder Lion, the first and oldest lion spirit, was inside him now. Not just the spirit Kael had carried since childhood — something older had crawled back into his bones.
Kael's body twisted — taller, bulkier, part-man, part-ancient predator.
Tafara groaned. "This is why I hate history."
Ranga spun his flaming spears. "Are we fighting him or running?"
Nyeredzi didn't answer. Her fingers traced faster, spirit messages flickering and vanishing — too fast to read.
Kael staggered forward, each step leaving claw marks in the earth.
"Kael!" Dendera's voice snapped like a whip. "Fight it!"
Kael roared, and the forest went silent. No birds. No insects. Even the trees seemed afraid to breathe.
From the shadows, Liora watched.
Her bow was drawn, arrow aimed straight at Kael's heart.
She didn't release.
The spirits whispered — Kael was not the enemy. Not yet.
Far beneath the earth, something shifted. Something old. Something with too many mouths and too many eyes.
The Bvuri were awake.
And Kael was their key.
End of Chapter One