Ter gently parted the shrubs that camouflaged him to get a better view of the action. He didn’t need eyes to assess what was happening, the cries of fear and anguish that had drawn him towards the village gave him a very good idea of what he would see and he wasn’t disappointed. Uche finally caught up and dropped to his stomach beside him. A unit from the Zaunese army were subduing able-bodied men and women from a larger homestead they had stumbled on. The officer in charge sat astride his horse on one of the numerous paths leading away from the village, watching the proceedings through eyes hidden behind a veiled turban.

He looked slight and somewhat slender compared to the other mounted soldiers who were doing the dirty work but the distance was too great to conclude with any certainty. The soldiers obviously knew what they were about; they systemically torched the village’s ringed huts, driving out the villagers towards horsemen riding through the narrow lanes herding them towards their Sarki’s compound. The soldiers seldom struck at the villagers with their swords, relying instead on the threat of brandished weapons. The few who displayed any attempts at bravery were promptly flailed at with the flat of the swords. No women were being abused and no lives were lost. It all looked very humane if one discounted the burning homes and wailing of inconsolable women and children.

With most of the village up in flames, the officer guided his horse into the village square. The animal danced as they came close to the prisoners, the smells of fear and panic mixed with burning thatch exciting the war stallion. A few whispered words to the horse calmed it as the officer impassively watched his soldiers round up the last of the prisoners and set torch to the magnificently sculpted clay and thatch silo doubled as their Sarki’s home and communal food storage; after looting it, of course.

Waves of displeasure buffeted Ter from Uche. He could be a puzzle sometimes; one who could disembowel a human sacrifice without flinching when the occasion called for it, but watching warriors go about the mundane task of putting a village to the torch chewed at him. He was actually surprised his partner had not suggested they interfere with the raid.

“I’m not an idiot, I know we are outnumbered. Our interference would just cause more bloodshed.”

Uche once again showed his uncanny ability of reading people, Ter was not completely sure his friend was being truthful when he said his powers didn’t let him read minds.

“And no, I really cannot read minds.”

This time Ter stared had at Uche, squinting one eye as he did so.

With a sigh Uche dragged his gaze away from the village to his friend

“What now? Do you suddenly have something in your eye?”

Ter shook his head and changed to his second eye. “I’m trying to sense if you’re in my thoughts.”

Uche had to bury his face in the dirt to muffle his guffaws; Ter couldn’t stop a little self-satisfied grin.

“Thank you, you are a true friend.” Uche patted Ter on the back before slithering away from the edge of the shrubbery. “I have seen enough; I don’t trust myself to not interfere in some way.”

Two soldiers rough handed a woman to their commander, thrusting her in front of his horse. There was no way for Ter to know who she was for sure but from the way she stood and the way the remaining villagers had unconsciously re-positioned themselves till they were facing her, he would say she was their Amariya-Sarki. What followed was a short exchange between her and the mounted figure that escalated swiftly into a shouting match that was stilled by an abrupt wave of the mounted figure’s hand. A blade flashed and the woman’s head toppled off her shoulders.

Ter found his attention riveted on the mounted figure. Something about the figure on the horse unsettled his new found senses. It reminded him of the morning he first noticed Uche’s power brands. It was like the ghost of an itch at the back of his mind, he had to know more about the officer. He found himself involuntarily studying the way he sat his mount, the curve of the shoulders. The distance did not allow Ter to make out a lot of details and at that moment nothing was more important to him than seeing through the enigma of the turbaned officer.

The desire grew till it became a great pressure in his mind pushing against the confines of his skull, till sheer frustration made Ter reach towards a direction he could not point at. He closed his eyes, and his consciousness slipped past the temporal world into another one. It was one of the few boons being bound to the ancestor’s offered him, one he’d been playing around with.

His sight went soaring through the ether, probing for the true nature of the turbaned officer. It found its quarry but was halted, thwarted by something Ter couldn’t touch. It was a barrier of some sort, thick and pulsing with potency, taunting. The need to know the enigma would not be denied; Ter pushed harder, illogical desperation riding on the razor edge of his will.

A barrier shattered in his reposed body. A cold flame blossomed to life and overtook Ter. It kindled in his eyes with a malevolent ferocity; the pain had him covering his face with his hands and gritting his teeth. Uche was suddenly at his side, materializing as though out of thin air.

“What have you done!? remove your hands let me see.”

Ter uncovered his face, thrashing panicky arms till he encountered his friend’s shoulder. “My eyes, the power, it burns my eyes! Make it stop please make it stop!”

Working quickly, Uche created a spirit shield and crashed it down around Ter, cutting him off from the external torrent of spiritual potency. Next, he delved into Ter’s meridians; the power had been channeled towards his eyes but wisps of it danced around his insides like scurrying rats. Subtlety was needed lest the power snap at him as he tried to coral it.

He sent tendrils of his own power into Ter; first he herded the small wisps of spirit and sealed them around Ter’s heart. Next he moved to the eyes, taunting and teasing the mass of spirit, anything to divert it from its task, but it would not be distracted from its purpose. Time was running out, the overload would soon burn Ter’s eyes out.

One last gambit to try, he withdrew his power from the eyes and moved back to the heart. Sending a quick prayer to his guardian spirits, he mounted a flagrant assault on the organ. He obstructed blood flow, forced the muscles to contract out of time and flooded its chambers.

Ter’s body was strong and tried to fight off the intrusion but Uche was an immovable mountain. The wisps of spirit he had cordoned off sensed the threat and coalesced into a single force, joining the fight. Uche snuffed them out of existence, increasing the range of his attack as he did so; He was killing his friend from the inside out.

Ter’s heart had begun to falter and one of his lungs had collapsed before the protection of his ancestors kicked in. Unable to draw power directly from the spirits through Uche’s spirit shield, it hijacked the power already present in the body; that which had been remaking the eyes. The power gathered itself up till it was a raging storm, a looming tsunami that would destroy as soon as protect.

Uche felt a little flare of panic at the malevolence of the power that was poised for his destruction but there was nothing for it, Ter had drawn too much spirit into his body and it had to be drained before he was burnt out. The spirit wave crashed into his intrusion with as much fury as he had anticipated and more.

It tasted of indignation with an aftertaste of grim purpose and Uche couldn’t resist a feeling of self-satisfaction as his power tore the storm apart. He sundered the wave, devouring the spirit till it was left with only a fraction of its power. Only then did he let his power falter. Feigning defeat, he let the tattered remnants of spirit chase his influence away so that it could begin the healing process on Ter’s ravaged body.

Ter dreamt of the days where-in he won his place among the men, pillaging the steppe tribes with clan-brothers. His dreams took him back to the time when he had a place around the hearth of his family. The time before their betrayal, even now it tore at his sanity to think of his father and brothers. The days he had spent toiling on his mother’s farm taunted him like a bared thigh. His dreams promised to throw him into an abyss of torments before he was whisked away from the despair.

He sat before his father’s fire back on the plains of the Sanga River. The flames licked at the firewood hungrily and crackling sparks spoke of its passion as it danced to the tune of the wind. No yams roasted in the fire nor could the sounds of humanity be heard; the squeals of playing children, the bustle of the Mothers, the loud silence of the fathers. All was still outside of the flame, too still.

Ter broke the silence

“Where am I?”

There was no reply apart from the crackle of the flame; he cleared his throat in preparation to call out louder when a familiar sibilant voice spoke out of the flames.

“Warrior Son, it has been too long since we communed and we have been remiss in this”

Ter was immediately wary.

“How did I get here?”

“You are deeply entranced; once again you are kept alive only by our power.”

Ter shook his head

“I don’t remember what happened, was there a battle?”

“No, destiny tugged at your strings and you were ill prepared.”

“What destiny? What strings? And how exactly was I ‘ill’ prepared?”

“We cannot speak of the workings of the great one, for that is what destiny is. All we can do is play out our roles as they have been given to us.”

“I have no strings; my feet belong to me and I choose the paths I tread!”

“Your unyielding spirit pleases the old warriors but a tree does not make a forest. Do not be the Baobab that stands alone and is sundered by the lightening. Your path is paved with glorious victories however the greatest warrior needs eyes to see and a strong right arm.”

“Ramblings of old men;” Ter scoffed at the ancestors attempt at mystery

“Haste has ever been the downfall of youth.”

Ter still felt contentious but wisely kept his peace.

“Time is short, we cannot keep you here much longer and there are some things you must know of...”

“The young Dibia placed a protection on you that kept your flesh protected from the fury of our power while it first came upon you but you sundered it with your floundering and nearly rendered yourself blind in the process.

We cannot control that which we give beyond the limits of our direct influence; you must learn to control the connection, master the flow of potence lest the power burn your flesh to ashes.

We are all of the earth and to the earth we must return, your feet must know the kiss of our earth that your valor may be unveiled."

There was a pause like that which the old often take to order their thoughts before speaking and Ter took advantage of it.

“I can no longer feel the strength of wine or the pleasure of a woman, perhaps you can fix this?”

“No grain may be harvested without a sowing warrior son; those things are the price you must pay for the protection you enjoy. Do not be disturbed, you will soon be given a solution to one and the other can be done without.”

“I do not see how either can be done without, but tell me where this solution is to be found?”

“All things in their own time warrior son, for now it is enough that your Dibia guides your sight. Heed his words and temper your actions with thought, you are no longer your own creature for you have been marked with purpose.

Beware the blade you wield, it has been tainted by the unmaking of a guardian spirit. Cast it away for it will turn on you with the vengeance of the spirit it vanquished and the blood it sheds in your hand merely fuels its rage”

The wind suddenly howled in furious agony, blowing the fire out before coming to an abrupt halt, leaving Ter sitting in the darkness of a moonless night. His eyes suddenly felt heavy and he felt himself fall to the dusty earth as he was called back to the warmth of his body.