They soon arrived at a large building that looked quite similar to the storage building from earlier. Kweku led him inside, his expression having reverted to its regular impassivity. The older boy ushered him toward a counter near the end of the hall, which was much smaller than the one in the storage building.

Sitting on a stool behingd the counter was a gaunt figure, his face obscured only by the shadows cated by the dim lamps which sat about.

The figure looked in his direction, - or at least - Ato thought that he did.

He then flung a piece of white marble, which had similar esoteric symbols inscribed on it.

When Ato made contact with the slate, it dissolved into a stream of white light that traveled quickly into his brain.

Select spell

Burst: Sends out a concentrated blast of Kra to knock back enemy.

Freeze: Stops inanimate objects from moving.

Slice: Sends sharp waves of Kra, amplified by using bladed weapons.

Ato stood there for a second, pondering his choices; The burst spell seemed like it would be quite useful when he was getting swarmed, yet sending out targeted burst of Kra was probably something he'd be able to do eventually.

Althoug, eventuality was not an option for him. He was going to kill that creature as soon as possible, that- he determined- was his new goal.

And for that purpose, the freeze spell would also be quite useful.

If he was able to freeze those projectiles before they hit him, it would certainly give him an edge over the little fiend.

On the other hand, if the freeze spell was anything like the immobilisation spell, he probably wouldn't be able to stop the projectiles int time.

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So in the end, it seemed the slice spell was the best fit.

In truth, Ato really id not care the manner in which the dastardly imp died. It only counted for him if he was the one who orchestrated its death.

The slice spell was perfect for an ambush setting, so that was where he'd place his choice.

You have selected your spell.

The stream of light exited his head, rematerialising as the same slab in the hands of the shadowy figure.

"Thank you for coming" spoke the figue, his raspy voice just barely reching thier ears.

Ato turned to leave, only to be stopped by the arm of Kweku.

"Didn't I say there was a job coming? Wait a bit."

The figure behind the counter stepped out from the shadows and walked towards them. In his right hand were two brass charms, the same ones Abena had. The man had a smile on his face as he handed them the charms.

"Follow me."

He led the two inot a small room, wherein a small ornate stool sat. The stool was made of what seemed to be solid gold, kind of like the large trinket Kweku brought to the hut. It had no legs, and was instead supported by a flat base not dissimilar to its top.

Ato recognised that stool, after all, he was chronically online. How could he not recognise the symbol of Akan power?

But that also meant that this was a mere replica. it didn't make much sense for the 'Golden Stool' to be here, in a slave compound.

The figure knelt before the stool, and so did the two young men. He took out a small ornate knife and, in a disturbing show of violence, stabbed his own arm with it.

'Splurt!'

Copious amounts of the red liquid flowed from the open wound, splattering onto the surface of the stool.

It only just occurred to Ato that they woere now in a ritual.

"Birng forth your hand." Stated the man, although, it was quite unclear who he was speking to.

Nevertheless, Ato went forward and stretched out his arm.

'Slash'

The Knife slid across his skin, and a red warmth flowed out of it, dripping slowly onto the already blood covered stool.

Ato's arm slumped helplessly to his side, drops of crimson periodically colliding with the stone cold floor. He looked on in shock as Kweku underwent his own procedure. The ease and nonchalance with which the man had cut him was frightening in of itself, yet that was not why Ato was so spooked.

It was instead, the fact that he could feel his blood, flowing and ebbing, swirling aimlessly about the pedestal on which the stool sat. His blood was slowly being absorbed into the shimmering surface of the stool, and he could feel every second of it.

He could tell Kweku felt the same way. The normally self assured boy looked quite uncomfortable.

As the last drops of blood entered the surface of the stool, the man finally adressed them:

"Ato, Kweku. You are now part of the army. Serve the stool well."

Somehow, Ato doubted that he had a choice in the matter.