Somadina burnt the first meal he ever made. He was eleven at the time and it was back when Kambili's bouts of lucidity hadn't yet regressed to nighttime only. Attempting to make okra soup, he had somehow managed to spill enough oil to nearly set their baobab tree ablaze. It had taken several months of constant pleas for forgiveness before his mother allowed him anywhere near their hearth again.

So, still conscious of that early disaster, Somadina always found it gratifying when people appreciated his cooking. Like now, as the golden sun of the following morning rose over Sinikat, its warm light filtering through the intricately carved wooden screens of the Ofodile household's grand receiving chamber. The entire family looked towards the kitchen with barely concealed wonder, the aroma of his cooking teasing their senses and eliciting soft growls from their stomachs.

The guards outside the chamber's ornate double doors proved to be made of sterner stuff; the only sign they were affected was the subtle shifting of their feet and the occasional clearing of throats. Even Jidenna stirred from his sleep in the adjacent room—a converted filing chamber now serving as a makeshift cell—straining against his bonds to sniff the air hopefully.

"Mother above, child," said Ejikeme when Somadina finally emerged, steaming pot in hand. The co-leader of the Ofodile clan stared at him as if witnessing a miracle manifested. "Where did you learn to cook like that?"

"It's a gift," Somadina replied, thoroughly pleased with himself. He placed the pot on the low, circular table at the centre of the room, its surface inlaid with intricate patterns. With a flourish, he whipped the lid off, mercilessly unleashing the unmatched aroma of properly prepared ukwa. "Feel free to help yourselves to as much as you want. There's more in the kitchen."

"You didn't have to do all this," said Aunty Rose, a spoonful of the breadfruit already making its way into her mouth.

"Think nothing of it. It just felt good to have access to proper ingredients for a change." He made a satisfied sound, glancing around the chamber adorned with tapestries depicting great moments in Ofodile history. "I enjoy cooking for others."

Jidenna chose that moment to remind them of his presence. He cleared his throat loudly several times, willfully ignoring the annoyed looks thrown his way. His voice carried clearly from the adjacent room, its door left slightly ajar to keep watch on their prisoner.

"Excuse me. I apologise deeply for interrupting, but I would like a taste of that lovely meal. As your honoured guest, it simply wouldn't do to leave me starving."

"Quiet, you." Ije brandished her spoon at him through the doorway. "We still haven't decided what we're going to do about you."

Jidenna blinked at that, then sighed and let his shoulders fall. His was the very picture of absolute dejection.

"Speaking of which, what are we going to do about him?" Olisa paused to brush off the onion skin that clung to Somadina's shoulder. "We can't exactly keep him in that glorified closet forever."

Jidenna just smiled and winked in response. He hadn't put up much of a fight after his grand entrance, meekly allowing them to place the Forged chains around him and bundle him into the repurposed chamber. "I've told you. I'm not your enemy. I have come to warn you of one."

"So you say. But what reason do we have to trust anything that comes out of your mouth?" Aunty Rose frowned at him, and the air seemed to grow thin, the sharp smell of ozone barely noticeable.

"Because it is the truth," came the reply. "Two spies from the Oselokas were watching you last night. Probably sent by the Sage of Gold Venom, whom I'm sure you're aware recently dropped by for a visit."

Aunty Rose's hard gaze didn't soften. "It still doesn't explain why the Oselokas would be spying on us. We haven't given them any cause for concern."

"Oh, it's not you they are watching. Or rather, you are not the primary target." He pointed at where Kainene, Olisa, and Somadina were sitting together. "The target is them."

The trio stared at him. "What?"

"It's the truth. Or rather, a very educated guess." He inclined his head towards Somadina. "That one and his owlcat do inspire a certain level of curiosity. Especially when they are accompanied by the two banished Heirs. Yes, I know exactly who you are. And you can bet that if I know, then Oseloka Oma does as well." Jidenna's dark eyes gleamed. "You three haven't been very subtle—which I'm all for, mind you. Subtlety is for the weak."

The horrified expression on Somadina's face must have been obvious because Kainene immediately took hold of his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "It's okay. Really. We suspected something like this would happen sooner or later."

Olisa was nodding. "Yeah. It's in no way your fault." His gaze grew thoughtful. "The real question is what we're going to do with this information."

Onyebuchi, Aunty Rose's third husband, got to his feet, his soulmarks glowing faintly in the morning light. "For now, nothing. We'll simply carry on as normal." He glanced at the ornate timepiece on the wall. "Clients will soon start arriving, and it'd be bad form to keep them waiting. Let the Oselokas watch until their eyes grow tired. We have nothing to hide."

"Indeed," Uchenna agreed, adjusting his glasses. "Ije, I'll be needing you to visit a few of our extended families in the hinterlands. Some of them are yet to submit the reports of their internal audits, and they need to do it now, before the Tower opens and we're too distracted to think about anything else. We'll deal with today's clients." He turned to Kainene. "You three will be training, I assume?"

"I think I'll stay. Someone needs to keep an eye on this one." Olisa made a face. "And I have a few questions for him as well."

Aunty Rose clapped her hands, the sound echoing in the spacious chamber. "Then it's settled. Quickly now, time waits for no one."

The room exploded into a flurry of motion as plates were carried away, extra clothing shrugged on, and kisses and hugs of goodbye were exchanged. Jidenna watched all this unfold quietly for a moment from his makeshift cell, then perked up and raised his voice.

"So... Can I have that ukwa now?"

***

Somadina sat cross-legged on the mossy bank of a small creek that meandered through the outskirts of Sinikat. The gentle burble of water over smooth stones filled the air, a soothing counterpoint to the distant hum of the city beyond. Dappled sunlight filtered through the canopy of mundane trees overhead, casting shifting patterns on the water's surface.

He watched intently as a silver-scaled fish leapt from the creek, its body arcing gracefully through the air. Somadina's eyes tracked every detail – the glint of sunlight on wet scales, the fanning of delicate fins, the brief flash of gills. Then, with a soft splash, the fish disappeared back into the water.

Closing his eyes, Somadina took a deep breath, centering himself. "Mirror Master," he whispered, the words carrying the weight of ritual. In his mind's eye, he visualised the complex patterns of the Seal, feeling the familiar tingle of anwansi – the magical energy that flowed through all things – gathering at his fingertips.

The decision to practise here hadn't been without debate. Olisa had initially objected, citing the potential dangers of venturing so far from the city's heart. It was Kainene who ended up settling the matter.

"I'm perfectly capable of protecting him and myself," she'd declared, brooking no argument. Somadina had mumbled something about no longer needing protection, while Jidenna had merely giggled.

A small 'pop' broke Somadina's concentration. His eyes flew open, and a grin of pure delight spread across his face. There, flopping on the damp earth before him, was a perfect copy of the fish he'd observed moments ago. Well, almost perfect – this version shimmered with a distinct indigo hue, a telltale sign of his magical signature.

"I did it!" Somadina exclaimed, his voice ringing with a mixture of pride and disbelief.

Kainene, lounging nearby on a sun-warmed rock, tossed a smooth river pebble back into the creek. "Yes, you did," she confirmed, a hint of pride in her own voice. "If only Rai and Olisa could see you now. Congratulations. You've just learned your first minor Seal."

Somadina's brow furrowed slightly. "But I already know Mist Garden and Creator's Touch."

"True," Kainene conceded, "But you had to almost die to learn those, so they don't count." Her tone softened as she continued, "Still, you're doing well. A few months ago, you didn't even know what a Seal was." She studied him for a moment, eyes warm with affection. "Remind me to rebraid your hair later. It's coming loose."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Somadina nodded, his fingers absently touching the intricate braids. The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, broken only by the gentle sounds of the forest and the persistent flopping of the magically-created fish.

Kainene soon found herself sprawled on the soft grass, lulled by the warm breeze that carried the scent of sun-baked earth and wild herbs. Somadina picked up his creation, staring into its wide, gasping mouth with a mixture of fascination and uncertainty.

"Do you really think I'm that much better?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kainene's eyes remained closed, but her voice was clear. "Well, we won't know for sure until you inevitably get into a fight. But yeah, I'd say you are. You've already successfully cast two major Seals, and it takes most dibias years to learn that." She opened her eyes, fixing Somadina with a gentle gaze. "Your mother would be proud."

The mention of his mother sent a familiar ache through Somadina's chest. His free hand instinctively curled around the betrothal necklace that hung there. "It hurts," he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. "It still hurts to think about her. Even after all this time. It's like this tightness in me that grows and grows until I can't breathe." He let the necklace fall back against his chest, the weight of it suddenly oppressive. "Maybe it's what I deserve."

Kainene frowned, propping herself up on her elbows. "What are you talking about?"

Somadina's voice was barely audible, heavy with guilt. "It's my fault she's dead. She asked me, begged me not to return to that cave. But I did anyway. If I hadn't gone, she would never have had to face four Direbeasts by herself." His voice cracked. "I killed her."

"You had no choice!" Kainene was sitting up now, her voice sharp with conviction. "You told me that yourself. If you had stayed, you would have just condemned both of you to a slow death by starvation. It's not fun, I promise you."

Somadina stared at nothing for a long moment, then sighed and let the fish fade to nothingness, the indigo light dissipating like mist. "It's not just that. Yes, it hurt when she died. She is… she was my mother. But that was not the only thing there. Deep down, I also felt... relieved." The admission seemed to pain him physically. "That I wouldn't have to worry about her anymore. That I would no longer have to put a hold on solving my unbonded situation because she was there." He looked at Kainene in despair. "What kind of a person... What kind of a son feels like that?"

Bright indigo light flickered at the tips of Somadina's fingers, then went hazy – the beginnings of a Seal forming and dissipating with his tumultuous emotions. "All my life I only wanted to be like everyone else. To not be so different. So weak." He let the Seal fade, unformed, with a bitter laugh. "Well. I got my wish, didn't I? I am a Disciple now. At the pace you guys push, I'll soon hit Practitioner, and I'll have caught up with the rest of the world. I am a dibia. And I don't know what to do next."

Somadina's voice grew quieter, more uncertain. "I originally had this idea that, for a while, I convinced myself was what I wanted. But now I'm not so sure. Seeking revenge against all Aberrations, against the clan that hurt her so badly. Growing stronger to meet those goals. It feels like things I should want. But I don't think it's what I want." He closed his eyes, pain etched across his features. "I killed my mother to set out on this path. You’d figure the least I can do is know what I want to do with it."

"Stop that." Kainene's voice was firm as she gathered him into her arms. Somadina clung to her desperately, as though she were an anchor in a storm. "You didn't kill her. And I'm sure that if your mother was here, she would tell you the same." She pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. "How could you have? You're one of the kindest people I know."

Somadina scoffed in response, the sound muffled against her shoulder. He hadn't believed it when he read it in his mother’s letter, and he didn't believe it now. "I'm not kind. I'm often thinking of ways of making people like me. Of helping myself. If I was kind, I would have felt something when you killed those savage clansmen."

Kainene's face twisted in a mix of exasperation and fondness. "There's a very clear line between kindness and stupidity, Somadina." She shook her head. "You really aren't getting it. We told you our names. Our full names. You knew we were nobles, that we belonged to Vassals, well before we knew us properly. And you didn't care. It didn't change the way you treated us. Like people. Not something to be shunned or feared or used. Ije and her parents... it took a while for them to see us that way. But not you."

Somadina's eyes were wet when he met her gaze and held it. He had never seen himself from that perspective before, as someone capable of doing things worthy of admiration, and it lit a warm glow in his chest. Somadina found that he liked that feeling.

Perhaps that was why he didn't move away when Kainene closed the gap between them and kissed him. Why his hands buried themselves in her hair, pulling her closer as he kissed her back. For that brief moment, time seemed to come to a halt, and his body was bathed in a warmth that told him he was safe and loved.

Then, it ended and Kainene pulled away, her eyes wide, her breathing as heavy as Somadina's. He reached out, gently tucking a stray braid behind her ear and smiled when Kainene didn't flinch at his touch. Instead, her gaze dropped to his lips, as though she meant to kiss him again.

The world chose that moment to grow cold.

A sudden, biting wind swept through the creek's banks, carrying with it a bone-deep chill that set their teeth on edge. The temperature plummeted so rapidly that the very air seemed to crystallise around them and Kainene and Somadina sprang upright in alarm, leaves and twigs crunching beneath their feet as they moved.

They exchanged a single, startled look – a silent communication born of shared experiences and growing trust and without a word, they charged off in the same direction, leaves and branches whipping past them as they ran.

As they neared the outskirts of Sinikat proper, the scene before them unfolded like a frantic tableau. People poured out of homes and shops, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and grim determination. Merchants hastily packed up their wares, shoving precious goods into sacks and crates. Doors slammed shut, windows were barred, and the air filled with the clatter of weapons being distributed.

Somadina watched as staffs were pulled from ornate rests, their carved surfaces glowing faintly with dormant Seals. Spears and swords, some bearing the marks of ancestral magic, were thrust into willing hands. The city, so recently alive with the bustle of commerce and daily life, was transforming before his eyes into an armed camp.

Above the growing cacophony of preparation, a single cry rang out. It was taken up by voice after voice, spreading through the crowd like wildfire:

"The Tower is open! The Aberrations come!"

The words sent a familiar tendril of fear crawling down Somadina's spine, cold and insidious. Memories of that terrible night in the cave threatened to overwhelm him – the stench of the Direlings, the terror of helplessness, the loss that nearly followed. But before the fear could take root, Kainene's hand found his. Her grip was firm, grounding, pulling him back to the present moment.

"What about Olisa?" Somadina asked, his voice tight with concern. The thought of their friend brought a surge of guilt – guilt over the kiss, guilt over leaving him behind. But the looming threat of Aberrations in the city demanded his focus. With effort, Somadina shoved the conflicting emotions firmly out of his mind.

"There's no time to go back and get him," Kainene replied, her voice carrying over the growing din. She shouldered aside two horned awosans, ignoring their angry protests. The intricate armbands they wore marked them as high-ranking Sect members, but rank meant little in the face of the coming storm. "He'll find us. He knows the way."

As they pressed on, more and more people joined the throng. The narrow streets of Sinikat, usually a maze of vibrant market stalls and bustling pedestrians, now funnelled a river of humanity towards a common goal. By the time they burst out onto the clearing that marked the city's edge, it felt as though the entire population had assembled.

And it was just as well. For waiting for them was a nightmare made flesh.

An army of Aberrations stood arrayed before them, their ranks stretching as far as the eye could see. Direlings, their bleached white, skull-like faces twisted in silent snarls, formed the front lines. Behind them loomed Direbeasts of every conceivable shape – some resembling corrupted versions of mundane animals, others defying description entirely. Their pitch-black fur seemed to absorb the very light around them, and the air, somehow, dropped several more degrees in their presence.

The skies above were choked with winged horrors. Gecko-doves and other majestic flying creatures that usually soared proudly over Sinikat were now in full retreat, pursued by things that made Somadina's stomach churn. Toothed, rug-like slabs of black flesh undulated through the air – Diremaws, he realised with dawning horror.

As he watched, one of the flying abominations caught up to a fleeing ratbat. The soul beast's leathery wings beat frantically as it tried to escape, but it was futile. The Diremaw wrapped itself around its prey, engulfing it in a terrible embrace and the ratbat's dying shrieks were drowned out by a sickening spurt of blood and the sharp crunching of bone.

Beside him, Kainene's face was a mask of concern and confusion. "This isn't right," she said, her voice barely audible over the cacophony around them. "The Tower shouldn't have attracted this many. Something's wrong."

A question formed on Somadina's lips, but before he could give it voice, an eerie silence fell over the assembled Aberrations. The sudden absence of their chittering and growling was more terrifying than the noise had been. Kainene's hand tightened against his as the crowd gasped and shrank back, all eyes fixed on a new horror making its way to the front of the Aberration army.

The beast that emerged was colossal, its size dwarfing even the largest of the Direbeasts. It towered over most of the closest buildings, its massive form a grotesque fusion of gorilla and something far more ancient and terrible. Dark sand from the Dry Lands still clung to its pitch-black fur, a grim reminder of how recently it had clawed its way into their world.

Great forelimbs like ancient tree trunks supported its immense weight as it lumbered forward and the other Aberrations scrambled to get out of the way, showing a level of coordination and hierarchy that chilled Somadina to his core. As it drew closer, he could make out more details – the flat, almost sloth-like face, dominated by eyes that burned with malicious intelligence. But most terrifying were the tusks – massive, curving implements of death that jutted from its lower jaw.

For a long, terrible moment, the beast stood motionless. It seemed to consider the assembled humans, its gaze sweeping over the crowd with an awful, calculating intensity. Somadina felt pinned by that stare, as though those burning eyes could see right through him, down to the very core of his being.

Then, with a sound that was part roar and part word, the beast shattered the silence. The utterance hung in the air for a heartbeat, alien and yet horribly comprehensible. In that moment, as both Aberration and human armies hurled themselves at each other in a clash of magic, steel, and monstrous flesh, Somadina knew there was no mistaking what had just happened.

These monsters had a leader. A rift had opened where in the Dry Lands and birthed something far worse than they had ever faced before.

A Dire Lord had come to Sinikat.