The sun had fully risen, but the heat of Lagos did little to calm Kafé's racing mind. Every plank of the floating walkway felt like it might tip, every ripple in the lagoon a warning. He gripped the silver chain in his hand, its cool weight grounding him, while the dagger at his waist reminded him that survival was now a lesson he had to learn fast.
Imade led the way, moving with uncanny ease across the narrow walkways. "If we fit reach the island before dem notice, na only then we fit plan the next move," she said, her voice steady but urgent. "No dey look back, Kafé. Just… trust your legs."
Kafé wanted to protest, to argue, but the sharp whistle from the other side of the lagoon froze his words.
They're here.
Shadows moved on the water's surface—men with hoods, faces obscured, and shapes that flickered like smoke. Kafé's heart hammered. His mark burned faintly beneath his sleeve, sending warmth up his arm, almost like it was calling for action.
"Now!" he whispered to himself.
Instinct took over. The silver chain slipped from his hand as he flung it toward the nearest walkway post. It coiled and snapped around the wood, the etched symbols glowing faintly as if alive. The shadow closest to him staggered, blinded by a sudden flare of light that sprang from the chain.
Imade gasped. "Kafé… wetin you do?"
"I… don't know," he admitted, eyes wide. "Something… something inside me."
The moment passed too quickly. The shadows shook off the flare and resumed their pursuit, moving faster now, more deliberate, more aware.
"Come on!" Imade shouted, pulling him forward. "Small island dey close. Just small—if we reach, dem no fit follow us enter."
They ran, feet splashing through the shallow edges of the lagoon, dodging nets, overturned buckets, and the occasional sleepy dog. Kafé's lungs burned, but something else pulsed in his chest—power. Energy. Awareness. He could sense the water beneath his feet, almost like it responded to him, lifting slightly, forming small waves that pushed them forward.
"Your mark…" Imade panted, glancing at his wrist. "Na wetin dey happen? You dey glow small."
Kafé flexed his hand, feeling the thrum again. "It's… waking up."
By the time they reached the small island, the shadows had stopped at the edge of the lagoon, hissing in frustration. Something about the water here blocked them; Kafé didn't know why, but he felt it in the way the chains of the lake held firm, how the air shifted like a protective wall.
They collapsed under a cluster of mangroves, panting. The air smelled of salt, mud, and the faint trace of incense.
Imade studied him, worry mixed with awe. "Kafé… if your power dey wake like this, you fit… fit fight dem."
Kafé shook his head, the weight of responsibility pressing down. "I don't know if I'm ready. I just… don't want anyone to get hurt."
"You no get choice," Abeni's voice echoed in his mind, as if carried by the water. "Protection is not forever."
He clenched his fist again. The faint glow of the serpent mark flared under his sleeve. Two shall rise. Only one shall carry the dawn. The words haunted him, tangled with the memory of his missing brother.
From somewhere deep in the mangroves, a soft rustle echoed. Kafé froze, hand on the dagger. Imade's eyes widened.
A small shape emerged—a boy, maybe his age, drenched and muddy. But it wasn't his brother. Not yet. The boy's eyes glinted unnaturally, almost too sharp, and he whispered:
"You carry the mark. But the dawn… belongs to him."
Before Kafé could speak, the figure darted back into the shadows.
Imade grabbed his arm. "See? Dem dey closer pass wetin we think. Kafé… you sef dey wake. We must train, now. No time."
Kafé stared at the water, at the fading ripple the boy left behind. Somewhere in Lagos, in the shadows, his brother was alive. And if that boy's words were true… his brother's destiny would collide with his.
He took a deep breath. The lagoon seemed to answer, water lifting subtly around him. His mark flared brighter. His power was stirring.
The hunt had truly begun.