Once Eagle found the poachers’ truck, Narvari and her team packed the unconscious men inside. After painting a gruesome picture with her words of the things she would do to them if they returned, the getaway driver, who looked like he would die from a heart attack, sped away into the night.

With their work done for the night, the WPU returned home. Narvari, however, made a stop at Sharmadi Tower first.

Located on the outskirts of the city, Sharmandi Tower was the tallest building in Sharmandi. It was also the headquarters of four of Sharmdandi’s security agencies including the Wildlife Protection Unit.

“So, how did I do, Cap?” Motongo bolted towards Narvari as soon as she alighted from her brown Land Cruiser. For someone with such a big brain, he was too small for his age.

He hugged Narvari around the waist while she patted him on the back. “Not bad, kiddo.”

“Not bad?” He lifted his head. “I was incredible.”

Narvari chuckled. She could not argue with that.

While most children in Sharmandi got excited about guns and combat skills, Motongo preferred the solace of his computers and anything that involved puzzles. He would often figure out the most sophisticated tech faster than anyone and by the time he was five years old, he had already established himself as his family’s tech support. At the age of six, he created a website for his mother’s bakery. At the age of seven, he designed a game as a birthday present for his older brother, Jimbaga, also Narvari’s best friend.

So of course, when six months ago, Motongo told her that he had hopes of becoming an Eagle someday, Narvari did not wait for a moment to recommend the nine-year-old to Andai, the Chief Eagle for WPU.

Andai agreed to take Motongo under his wing, teaching him everything he needed to know about their operations. And Motongo, being the quick study he was, impressed Andai enough to be given the chance to conduct his first mission as Eagle.

“Let’s go, kiddo.” Narvari took his hand and led him to the car.

They traversed a winding road through the expanse of grassland and scattered acacia trees. Motongo, as usual, would not stop chattering about all the fun he had. Occasionally, Narvari would ask questions to which he would happily reply in great detail. A brilliant smile adorned Narvari’s smooth brown face the entire time.

Soon, the outline of a gorgeous city lit brilliantly in the distance. Narvari drove past several rows of identical townhouses before finally pulling into the driveway of Motongo’s three-story house.

Jimbaga must have heard them arrive because he stuck his head out of the window at the top.

“You two had me worried.” Only four years ago, Jimbaga’s voice was higher than a dog whistle. Today, only at eighteen, his voice was deeper than the mating call of a whale.

“You don’t look worried,” Narvari said, stepping out of the car. “You look like the Cheshire Cat.”

Jimbaga laughed, his large afro bouncing to and fro. Even his hair was dramatic. “I’m coming down. Don’t leave.”

Narvari shrugged. “I won’t make any promises.”

Motongo chuckled. “Goodnight, Cap.”

“Sure, kiddo.” She waved back.

By the time Jimbaga’s tall lanky form came bobbing outside, Motongo had already left.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“So how did he do on his first day?” he asked.

“He’s going places for sure.” With a devious grin, Narvari added, “He’s so smart. Are you sure you two are related?”

“Very funny.” He laughed. The laughter suddenly disappeared from his brown eyes. “But seriously, Narvari, I was really worried. Papa wouldn’t stop talking about how rampant the activity of poachers has become. What is happening?”

“I am not sure either.” She sighed, suddenly recalling the threatening words of the mercenary she had tranquilized. None of this made any sense to her.

“If your father were here, they wouldn’t even have dared to come in the first place.” Jimbaga’s mouth hung open as soon as the words flew out of his mouth. An apologetic look appeared on his face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

Narvari shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s the truth anyway.”

Even when she tried hard to forget her father who abandoned her when she was a child, people would not let her. How could they? Captain Yabaga had forged an iron legacy of badassery (if that were a word) for himself and wherever she went, people would always rub it in her face. They were quick to point out the similarities or differences between father and daughter.

There was indeed a time when Narvari truly admired Yabaga. The man taught her everything she knew about guns and combat, drilling into her bones what it meant to be a Kirriba warrior and a leader.

Poachers feared the WPU and would never enter their lands when Yabaga was around. But now that she was captain, what was happening?

Poachers had the guts to enter their lands thinking they could get away with hunting their sacred bazwu. Jimbaga was right. If her father were here, none of this would be happening.

“You know I’m not saying that you are not a good captain,” Jimbaga interrupted her thoughts, slinging an arm around her shoulder.

She folded her arms. “But it’s true though. I’m not a good captain.”

“You know that’s not true. You are good at your job and everyone knows that.”

Narvari sighed. “Well, I don’t think I’m a good captain.” Jimbaga tilted his head, narrowing his dark brown eyes. It was as if he could not believe that Narvari had actually admitted she was not good enough.

Narvari smirked, wiggling her eyebrows. “I’m not a good captain. I’m a great captain.”

Jimbaga chuckled while shaking his head. “Your humility is admirable. Now I see where Motongo learned all that modesty from.”

“I know. You should learn from me too.” Narvari grinned. “Anyway, I better get back home before the old woman kills me. I don’t know where she gets all that energy from.”

“Wait, does it mean you are not coming?”

Narvari raised a brow in confusion. Coming where? Then it dawned on her. Her mates from high school were organizing a Bonfire to celebrate their graduation. With all the raids going on, she had completely forgotten about it.

“Sorry. Not tonight.” She moved away from Jimbaga.

“Come on, Narvari. It’s our last party with our friends before going to university.”

Narvari halted, a smile dancing at the corner of her lips. “Don’t you mean your friends?”

“Exactly my point.” He shrugged. “This is your chance to show everyone that there is more to you than being a Shar.” Then as if he had suddenly thought of the best sales pitch, he added, “Aren’t you tired of everyone being so intimidated by you?”

“Nope.”

Why would she? It saved her from unnecessary human interactions.

She used to think people avoided her because she was the granddaughter of the great Erasmus Shar. Jimbaga however assured her that it was more because she had the face of someone who would burn a person to death if they so much as said ‘hi’ to her. The only reason Jimbaga had still ended up being friends with her was that he liked fire. No really. He had seen the boy juggling fire like a damn pro.

He was the most social person she knew and she often wondered how they became friends in the first place. She wasn’t shy by any means. In fact, people did say she was too confident for her own good. But that didn’t mean she wanted to go about making friends with everyone.

She wasn’t a fan of places with too many people and loud music, yet she would always find herself at parties because Jimbaga would literally drag her there. She didn’t entirely hate it though. Those were some of her best memories with her best friend. Besides, it was always fun watching Jimbaga dance like an ostrich while surrounded by girls.

There was no doubt she would make even more amazing memories at the Bonfire tonight. But duty called.

“I have to prepare a draft for the invocation,” she said.

Jimbaga paused. “What invocation?”

“Nnadago.”

Jimbaga’s face paled. “You’re going to invoke the Nndago? Have things become that bad?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” She nodded. “Can you not tell your father about this? I don’t want him finding out unofficially before I send the draft.”

“Yes. Of course.”

Narvari hugged her best friend. She sat in her car and before she could leave, Jimbaga said, “I hope it all ends soon.”

She hoped so too. But why was the chasm of foreboding in her heart only getting deeper?