Scene 1: Zaria’s Arrival
(Hidden Cave – Deep Within Old Brass)
The cave’s damp shadows swallowed the trio’s exhaustion. Kente leaned against a stalagmite, his shoulder throbbing from Adam’s poisoned blade, the Heart of Old Brass casting a faint golden glow across his tense features. Zuri sprawled nearby, clutching his bruised ribs with every shallow breath, while Aanya nursed her burned arm, her silver eyes dulled by pain.
A soft rustle at the entrance shattered the quiet. Aanya’s head snapped up, her runes flickering weakly along her fingertips. “Someone’s coming,” she whispered, her voice taut with alarm, her body tensing as if ready to strike.
Zuri’s red eyes narrowed, his hand instinctively reaching for his spear despite the pain in his ribs. “Who the hell—” he started, his tone sharp.
Kente’s third eye pulsed softly, a gentle hum of recognition washing over him. “It’s Zaria,” he said, relief softening his voice as he raised a hand to calm them. “She’s alone. She’s… a friend.”
Zuri and Aanya exchanged a wary glance, their postures still rigid. “A friend?” Zuri muttered, his grip on the spear not loosening. “You didn’t mention any friends out here.”
Kente’s gaze flicked to the entrance, his expression softening further. “I helped her once, back in Old Brass. She’s okay.”
Zaria emerged from the darkness, her silver eyes wide with worry, her patched cloak swaying as she clutched a clinking bag to her chest. Her gaze darted to Kente first, lingering a heartbeat longer than necessary, a faint flush creeping into her cheeks. Then she noticed the tension in Zuri and Aanya’s stares, and her steps faltered, her voice trembling slightly. “I… I heard about the fight,” she said, her tone steadying as she spoke. “I came to help. Kente—he knows me.”
Kente nodded, meeting Zuri’s skeptical glare. “She’s a scavenger, like me. I saved her from some bullies a while back. She’s been keeping an eye on us since the exams.”
Zuri’s eyes narrowed further, studying her. “Keeping an eye on us? That’s not creepy at all,” he said, his sarcasm biting, though he winced as he shifted, his ribs protesting.
Aanya’s runes dimmed, but her silver eyes remained sharp, assessing Zaria. “How’d you find us?” she asked, her tone measured but cautious.
Zaria fidgeted with the strap of her bag, her silver eyes flicking to Kente for reassurance before answering. “The hollows are my home,” she said softly. “I know every crack and shadow. I’ve been tracking you—watching from a distance. I just… I wanted to make sure Kente was okay.”
Aanya’s expression softened slightly, though her guard didn’t fully drop. “Kente’s wound is poisoned, and Zuri’s ribs are bad. But we don’t know you.”
Zaria’s lips curved into a small, determined smile, her silver eyes steady despite the scrutiny. “I’m here to prove I can help,” she said, her voice gaining strength as she glanced at Kente. “If Kente trusts me, I hope you can too.”
Kente met her gaze, his voice warm but firm. “I trust her,” he said, looking to Zuri and Aanya. “Let her help.”
Zuri grumbled under his breath, finally lowering his spear. “Fine. But I’m watching you, scavenger girl.”
Aanya nodded slowly, her runes settling.
Zaria exhaled, her shoulders relaxing as she stepped further into the cave, her heart pounding with a mix of nerves and resolve. She was here for Kente—and now, for his friends too
Scene 2: Healing the Wounds
(Hidden Cave – Deep Within Old Brass)
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Zaria knelt beside Zuri first, pulling a jar of greenish paste from her bag. Her fingers hesitated as she unscrewed the lid, her silver eyes misting briefly. “This is moonleaf paste,” she said, her voice soft but deliberate. “It numbs pain and mends bruises. My grandmother… she taught me how to grind it just right. Said it was like a lullaby for the body.” She spread it gently over Zuri’s ribs, her touch careful but trembling.
Zuri’s red eyes softened, catching the weight in her words. “Your grandmother sounds like she knew her stuff. Where is she now?”
Zaria’s hands stilled, her breath catching. “She’s… gone,” she whispered. “The Watchmen came for our tribe—burned our village, slaughtered everyone. I was nine. She hid me under the floorboards, but they…” Her voice broke, and she quickly wrapped Zuri’s ribs with a bandage, forcing a smile. “It’s working already, see? You’ll feel better soon.”
Zuri nodded, unusually quiet, his gruff thanks barely audible.
Next, Zaria moved to Aanya, unwrapping her burned arm with reverent care. “This is ashroot salve,” she explained, dabbing the thick, cooling mixture onto the raw skin. “It grows in the Hollows—rare now, since… well, since my people stopped tending it. Grandmother said it could heal even the deepest wounds.” Her voice faltered, and she added softly, “She used it on me once, after I burned my hand trying to cook. She laughed and said I’d learn someday.”
Zaria swallowed hard, focusing on the bandage. “The Watchmen. They didn’t just take her—they took everything. Our home, our juju secret knowledge, our songs. I’ve been on the streets since.” Her fingers tightened around the salve jar. “But this still works. You’ll see.”
Aanya’s runes glowed brighter as the pain eased. “Thank you, Zaria,” she murmured, her voice thick with empathy.
Finally, Zaria approached Kente, her heart pounding as she knelt beside him. She unwrapped his crude bandage, revealing the angry, poisoned gash. “Adam’s blade left a mark,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She crushed dried leaves into a paste, mixing it with water from her flask, her hands shaking. “This is a cleansing mix—grandmother’s recipe. It draws out poison, keeps the spirit whole. She taught me when I was little, said healing’s about more than herbs—it’s about heart.”
Kente’s third eye flickered, watching her. “You’ve got a lot of heart, Zaria.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she applied the paste gently, her fingers brushing his skin. “I’ve had to,” she said, her voice cracking. “After the Watchmen, I was alone—scavenging, hiding. No one cared if I lived or died… until you.” She paused, her silver eyes meeting his, vulnerable and raw. “That day you saved me from those bullies, Kente, it was the first time I felt like I mattered.”
Kente’s gaze softened, his voice warm. “You matter, Zaria. You’re saving us now.”
Her breath hitched, and she tied the fresh bandage with care, her fingers lingering a moment longer. “I just want to keep you safe,” she whispered, looking away as her heart raced.
Scene 3: A Safe Refuge
(Scavenger Hideout – Deep Within Old Brass)
Later, as the trio rested, Zaria spoke up, her tone firm despite her nerves. “I know a safer place—a scavenger hideout under a fallen spire. The Watchmen won’t find it.”
Kente’s eyes lit up. “Lead on.”
They trekked through the Ashen Hollows, the setting sun painting the ruins in shades of amber. The hideout lay beneath a collapsed spire, its entrance veiled by vines and rubble. Inside, the air was cool, the walls cluttered with scavenged relics—faded fabrics, cracked runes, echoes of a lost world.
Aanya set wards at the entrance, Zuri slumped against a wall with a groan, and Kente kept watch, his third eye scanning the dusk. Zaria sat beside him, her silver eyes reflecting the dim light. “I’m glad I could help,” she said softly, her voice tinged with something unspoken.
Kente turned to her, his smile gentle. “You’re part of this now, Zaria. We need you.”
Her heart skipped, and she managed a shy smile. “I’ve never been part of anything before,” she admitted. “Not since… everything.”
“You are now,” he said, and her chest tightened with quiet hope.
Scene 4: Zaria’s Resolve (POV)
(Scavenger Hideout – Deep Within Old Brass)
Zaria leaned against the stone wall, her bag of herbs clutched to her chest. Her silver eyes traced Kente’s silhouette as he stood watch, his third eye a faint glow in the gloom. He was everything she wasn’t—strong, sure, fearless. She remembered the bullies’ taunts, their fists, the way the streets had swallowed her whole after the Watchmen’s fire. Then Kente had stepped in, his quiet defiance scattering them like leaves. He’d looked at her—not through her, not past her—and said, “You’re okay now.”
She hadn’t been okay, not really, not for years. But with him, she’d felt seen. Now, here she was, her hands still tingling from his wound, her heart echoing his words: You’re part of this now.
Grandmother, she thought, you’d be proud, wouldn’t you? I’m using what you taught me. Her throat tightened. I wish you could see this—see him. She glanced at Kente again, resolve hardening in her chest. I won’t let him down. Not him, not them. They’re my tribe now.
The hideout hummed with fragile peace, a sanctuary amid the storm. Beyond its walls, the Watchmen prowled, and the Rift’s shadow loomed. But for the first time in years, Zaria wasn’t alone—and that was enough to keep her fighting.