Oseloka Oma strode through the ancient corridors of the Tower of Plenty, barely reacting to the scores of lower-ranked soul beasts that scattered at her approach. Most were weak but fairly common varieties that ranged from the eternally shy hummingmoths, their gossamer wings a blur of iridescent colour, to the cold, calculating leopard-crows with their sharp, intelligent eyes. All were Practitioner rank or lower and possessed the common sense to hide or flee from her imposing presence.

Not that Oma would have noticed had they attacked. Her mind was elsewhere, contemplating the mission she had been given, even as she disabled one of the corridor's traps with a lazy flick of her hand. A two-ton block of stone that had detached from the ceiling crashed harmlessly to the side, pulverising the elaborately tiled floor.

The summons from the Citrine Throne had come as a surprise. Naturally, she had harboured suspicions before—Odera's spiders kept them well informed of the whispers and rumours that threaded through the Sundered City. But even having her uncle confirm the truth, that the Tower was going to fall, still sounded unbelievable. Like Zin Kibaru itself, floating majestically above Lake Menetet, the Tower of Plenty was one of the few things on the continent old enough to feel like it had always been there.

Of course, the Tower of Plenty, like all the others, was far older than the Sundered City. It had been ancient when the Emerald Throne, the Old King, had been a boy, and that Monarch was nearly three thousand years old. The Towers predated even the founding of the Six Courts and their origins were shrouded in myth and legend.

But if she was being honest, it wasn't entirely unexpected. Oma hadn't visited this Tower since she was fifteen, but the signs of decay had always been there, subtle but unmistakable. She sighed, the sound barely audible over the constant, low hum of energy that permeated the Tower and with a casual slap, batted aside a Direling that had attempted an ambush as she entered a new room.

This chamber, noisy and a little bit cramped, was a mechanical maelstrom of constantly moving gears, pistons, and revolving doors. The air was thick with the scent of oil and metal, underlaid with the acrid stench of Aberration. Shaking loose the splatters of dark ichor from her ornate gown, Oma walked over to the panel in the middle of the room. She began to solve the puzzle as the Tower's aura rapidly evaporated the remains of the Direling, leaving behind only a faint, smoky residue.

At least some things are still working, she thought as she slid a bolt into its socket, feeling the satisfying click of ancient mechanisms aligning. Shame it doesn't extend to actually keeping the Aberrations out.

The rest of the panel fell into place, and the room came to a halt, one of the doors grinding open in a hiss of smoke. Oma hurried through it and down a flight of stairs, guided by the precise directions her mother and the other Thrones had provided. The steps were worn smooth by countless feet over millennia, each one inscribed with symbols that pulsed faintly with residual magic.

Thankfully, she ran into few obstacles, Aberrations or otherwise. It would have resulted in an expenditure of anwansi that she could not afford to waste. Not if she wanted to have enough to perform the massive amount of magic that was needed once she got to her destination. It would seem that most, if not all of the monsters that had made it in over the years had been called away by the Dire Lord.

Oma considered that for a moment, her brow furrowing in concentration. It had been a minor miracle that Sinikat had managed to hold out until she got there. But the attack had had its uses. It had given her the perfect excuse to ban all of her clan members from entering the Tower and proven definitively that not only were rifts appearing more and more frequently but that the Tower's influence had deteriorated to the point of being unable to stop their creation.

The implications were staggering. If one Tower was failing, what did that mean for the others? The Tower of Whispers, controlled by the Onyx Court as weak as they currently were, or the Tower of Echoes under the Moonstone Court's purview? Were they all in danger of collapse?

These thoughts strengthened her resolve to claim the Heirs for her Court. The fact that they'd managed to nearly bring down a Dire Lord was proof enough of their potential. She had always seen their banishment as a mistake; the feud between the two Vassals was stupid enough without dragging other people into it, and it was something she intended to rectify as soon as she was done here. She couldn't return them to the Citrine Court, but a few of her private holdings could—

Something flashed past, interrupting her train of thought. Oma caught a glimpse of the Tower's furry caretakers, the idioks, disappearing down a side tunnel. Their small, agile forms were barely visible in the dim light, but their frantic movements spoke volumes. She paid them no mind, instead increasing her speed. If the idioks were moving already…

Her jog turned into a full run, and the ground blurred as Oma took flight, her body suffused with the power of anwansi. She plunged down the stairs faster than an eye could blink, the air whistling past her ears. Briefly, she wondered if it had been right not to warn the crowd outside, then gave a mental shrug. Quite a few would give up entering entirely, preferring to stay and mourn for their loved ones. And as for the others, well, it wasn't her fault if they walked in unaware of the dangers.

And so Oma plunged deeper and deeper underground, towards the Heart, as the Tower began to rumble ever so slightly.

***

Far, far away, in a vast city torn from the earth, six beings in halls of glittering gemstones turn their minds to Sinikat and its Tower. It is not their full attention of course, but a sliver, just enough to gather information and not crush the city with its weight.

"It begins," says the Witch of Three Faces, her form shifting between youth, maturity, and age with each blink. It is not true speech but intention, her words flowing directly into their minds. "It would seem the Citrine Sage will not be successful."

"She will not fail," the Twins Radiant reply, speaking as one, their intertwined bodies pulsing with golden light. "Oseloka Oma will reach the Heart."

"Even so, it would seem other parties are at play this day." The Verdant King's voice is jovial, his ancient eyes twinkling with mischief beneath a crown of living vines. "And we shouldn't forget our people that have entered the Tower as well. It can't hurt to stabilise it, even for a moment. I rather like this little alliance."

"Which you should not forget is temporary," growls the Titan That Roars, his massive form crackling with barely contained energy. But his annoyance is a fleeting thing and after a moment he and the others hum their agreement.

The Jewel So Bright, her ebony skin shimmering with an otherworldly iridescence, adds in a voice like chiming crystals, "Our combined will shall suffice, for now."

A pause. And then they all give a single, quiet nod.

The world stills, as if holding its breath as they all lean back into their glittering thrones and, as one, speak a simple command.

"Be Still."

And the Tower obeys.

***

Ije wanted to hit something. Not a strike with her magic, which crackled beneath her skin like barely contained lightning. But a solid, proper punch, delivered with enough speed and power to knock out a few teeth. It was a reaction, she was beginning to suspect, that was common to anyone who spent more than five minutes alone with Jidenna.

"Well, that was fun," said the object of her fury, his eyes bright as he studied the second trap he had accidentally triggered. The remnants of the trap – a complex array of razor-sharp blades now embedded in the nearby wall – glinted dangerously in the dim light. "It was fortunate you have a blade affinity. That could have ended very badly for us."

Ije stared at him for a full three seconds, then took a deep, calming breath. The scent of ozone filled her nostrils, a side effect of her agitated state. "Stop talking, and I might reconsider tossing you back into that pit."

Jidenna raised his arms in surrender, still giving her an infuriating grin. Even his soul beast, the sleek cheetah-fox hybrid, was giving him an irritated glare. "I said I was sorry, didn't I? And in my defence, this is my first time here. I've never been in this Tower before."

Ije wore a dubious expression, her eyebrows knitting together in disbelief. "You're not serious."

"I am!" Jidenna insisted, his tone taking on a more earnest quality. "I've been away from Oreze for a very long time. I only just now returned." For a split second, something flickered across his face – a shadow of an emotion Ije couldn't quite place. Then she blinked, and it was gone, replaced by his usual carefree demeanour. "So that's why I'm so clueless about stuff. Ten years might not seem like much time for high-ranking dibias like us, but I have little to no idea about what's changed since I left. Mind filling me in? It'll take a while before the Tower allows us to catch up to your friends, right? I feel like we should spend that time getting to know one another."

Ije scowled, but she had to admit that he had a point. Her eyes lingered on his smiling face before switching to the soul beast clinging to his shoulder. "First, you have to explain how you got out of your chains and got that cheetah-fox. Then we'll talk."

Jidenna considered this as they left the passage and entered a simple, nearly featureless room. The walls were smooth, polished stone, inscribed with faint, glowing runes that pulsed in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. A small pedestal in the middle, heavily enchanted by what seemed like a million scripts, exuded a soft, dense fog that changed colour as they looked at it. Ije let out a sigh of relief, her tense shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Mother's mercy. That's universal anwansi," she breathed, her voice tinged with awe. "We must be in a safe room. It will allow us to heal and replenish our cores." She sat cross-legged next to the pedestal, preparing to cultivate, and raised an eyebrow when Jidenna sat next to her. "Well? I'm waiting."

"Sorry. I just got distracted," Jidenna replied, his eyes roaming the room with undisguised curiosity. He paused for a moment to give his soul beast, Izu, a light scratch on the head. The creature purred contentedly, its dual nature evident in the mix of feline grace and vulpine cunning in its eyes. "It's like I said. I convinced the guards to let me go."

"Cow shit.”.

Jidenna's lips quirked in a half-smile. "I can be quite persuasive. And the Aberrations that attacked, intent on killing us all and devouring our flesh, could only have helped." He shrugged. "It was a madhouse. With you and your friends off fighting the Dire Lord – great job with that, by the way – and your parents away from Sinikat, there was no one to help turn back the Direbeasts that breached the front lines. And there were plenty of them."

Ije remained unimpressed, her arms crossed over her chest. "So naturally, you decided to help out of the goodness of your heart."

"But of course!" Jidenna exclaimed, his tone light but his eyes serious. "That's actually how I found Izu. A Direbeast had broken into a merchant store, and by the time I got there, most of the soul beasts she was selling and the woman herself were dead. It... it wasn't a pretty sight." He paused and played with one of his dreads thoughtfully, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns woven into his hair. "I am aware that I might not have made the best impression when we first met."

She scoffed. "Might?"

Jidenna ignored her. "But I'm not the kind of person to stand idly by and watch people die. I haven't always been able to help people that need me, so I try to give aid when I can." Again, that look appeared on his face, flickering on and away before Ije could put a pin on it. Instead, that annoying smile was back as he seemed to wave away whatever that had been. "Anyway, that's enough about me. What about you? How does Ofodile Ije come to befriend the infamous Kainene and Olisa?"

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

She hesitated, weighing the pros and cons of divulging information to this probable lunatic. But she was deep in the bliss of cultivation, her depleted core rapidly filling up with each breath, so it wasn't that hard to let down her guard and take a leap of faith. The universal anwansi swirled around them, a kaleidoscope of colours that seemed to pulse in time with their heartbeats and she greedily sucked down as much of it as she could. Anwansi of this affinity weren’t natural and we’re usually quite rare.

"It was raining the day we met," Ije began, her voice taking on a distant quality as she recalled the memory. "I remember that clearly because I was out in the storm, in the outskirts of the city, trying to cultivate lightning anwansi."

"How does that work exactly?" asked Jidenna. He idly scratched the black soulmark on his neck, an odd, shifting blob Ije couldn't quite make out. Was that a moth? "Surely you can't only wait until there's a storm to cultivate?"

She nodded, banishing the weird soulmark from her mind. It wasn't unusual for it to change with advancement to the Soul Realm. The most common, like hers, was merely a change in size and colour from a bland, translucent white to the anwansi of her affinities. But she had heard of other, additional effects. Ordained and higher of the Okoye clan, for example, had white and yellow gradient soulmarks that stretched across their necks and chin and most of their backs.

"There are a few ways around that problem," she replied after a moment's thought. "Building high up is one. Makes it easier to catch occasional flashes of power. Another is to find a place of perpetual storms, like the Third Peak of the Eyrie in Irorun." Her eyes lit up as she spoke, clearly passionate about the topic. "The final one is what we went with. Get a piece of said perpetual storm and store it in a Forged container. The Sect of Cruel Sky was happy enough to help us in exchange for a lifetime waiver on all import taxes. It's weird seeing a miniature rainstorm in a glass jar, but it was and is a good trade-off. It still doesn't beat the real thing though, so we try to get that in when we can."

Jidenna hummed thoughtfully as he digested the information, his fingers absently tracing patterns in the swirling anwansi mist. "That's ingenious. But back to Kainene and Olisa."

"Right." Ije perked up, breaking out of her half-meditative trance for a moment. "So I'm sitting on the roof, in the rain, trying and failing to cultivate only lightning anwansi when these two people come charging down the street, a swarm of Direblights right behind them." She shrugged and smiled, a hint of fondness creeping into her voice. "I saved them naturally, and things just sort of took off from there."

"You befriended them immediately?" Jidenna asked, his tone curious.

"Please. As if anything concerning Olisa and Kainene would be easy," Ije replied with a roll of her eyes. "Those two have serious trust issues. It took a while before they accepted that I hadn't been trying to kill them." Her smile turned wistful. "You don't often get Practitioners willing to stand up to an Ordained."

Izu yawned, displaying an impressive set of sharp canines, and hopped off Jidenna's shoulders. Something at the end of the room had caught his eye, and he now moved to investigate, his movements a fluid blend of feline grace and vulpine curiosity.

"Try not to get into too much trouble," Jidenna called after the retreating soul beast, watching him fondly. Then he turned back to Ije, his expression turning more serious. "I've always been meaning to ask. What's up with your parents? I haven't been around for a while, true, but I'm fairly sure it's not common to find a clan ruled by multiple people at once. Especially when said clan is as important as yours."

Ije's expression shifted, a mix of pride and something more complex flickering across her features. She took a deep breath, the swirling anwansi around them seeming to respond to her emotions. "It's... complicated," she began, her voice measured. "My parents' leadership is unique, even among the great clans of Oreze. But to understand it, you need to know a bit about our history..."

Ije hesitated a moment longer, her eyes still closed, legs crossed in the traditional meditation pose. The faint hum of the Tower's energy pulsed around them, a constant reminder of the ancient power that permeated this place. Then, finally, she opened her eyes, uncrossing her legs and breaking her meditative state with a soft exhalation.

"Mother was a bit of a wild child," she began, her voice carrying a mix of fondness and exasperation. "Growing up as the sole Heir to an important clan and surrounded by doting parents can do that to you. She was allowed free reign to do pretty much whatever she wanted."

Ije's fingers absently traced the patterns on her cushion, intricate designs that seemed to shift and change under her touch. "Up until it took her forty-five years to break through to Ordained. Then they cracked down hard. No more parties or late nights out or random trips to other cities and such, and certainly no more random hookups with random boys and girls."

She paused, her gaze growing distant as if seeing scenes from the past play out before her. "Now she had to attend lessons and train to take over the clan. Her parents were already hitting the three hundred mark; absurdly long-lived for Ordaineds."

Ije frowned a little, her brow furrowing as she considered the complexities of her family's history. "To be fair to my grandfather, we weren't doing so well at the time. Amosis, the ruins in the Dry Lands, and that entire area in general, hadn't grown as dangerous as it is now. Plus, our lieges were constantly rebelling. We were losing money and resources, and the clan needed a strong and young leader to weather these problems."

Jidenna, who had been listening intently, his dark eyes fixed on Ije's face, spoke up. "I take it your mother wasn't impressed by their arguments."

A wry smile tugged at Ije's lips. "She lasted one month. Then, when the guards weren't looking, she escaped. She left Sinikat and travelled to Lyban, one of the Walled Cities in the Green Sea."

As she spoke, the mural behind them seemed to shimmer, the painted landscape of the Green Sea coming to life with subtle movement. Jidenna's eyes flickered to it briefly before returning to Ije.

"And that's where she met your fathers," he prompted gently.

Ije nodded, her fingers now idly playing with the hem of her robe. "I'd like to spin you a long, epic tale of romance and forbidden love, but the reality is that it was a one-off fling with them. The city too leaders sold her out the moment they found out who she was." Her voice took on a harder edge. "Three months later, she and my fathers were back in Sinikat and facing my grandfather's wrath."

She paused, taking a deep breath. "You see, it was already fairly obvious Mother was pregnant, and even she had no idea who my real father was. Grandfather was furious. He wanted the baby – me – removed, and my fathers' cores broken and thrown to the Green Sea at best."

Jidenna winced, the severity of the punishment clear even to someone not versed in the intricacies of clan politics.

Ije continued, her voice growing quieter. "Mother refused, of course, and things looked like they would get worse until Grandmother intervened. She could keep the baby and my fathers would be free to go and not be sentenced to certain death in exchange for her taking up leadership of the clan immediately and never again disobeying their orders."

She shook her head, a mix of emotions playing across her face. "The sentence was remarkably light if you consider just how angry Grandfather was, but it probably helped that my fathers were part of the Ofodile clan, if only minor members. Mother had no choice. She agreed."

Ije sighed, the sound echoing softly in the chamber. "I think for a while after I was born, she resented me. Uchenna and Ejikeme stayed on as servants, but Onyebuchi left not long after the sentence was passed. Mother was too busy with lessons and meetings to have much time for me, and my grandparents were too old and too angry to do more than tolerate me." Her voice grew softer, tinged with a hint of guilt. "It feels wrong to say, but I think things would have stayed broken between us if my transition hadn't gone so badly."

Jidenna raised an eyebrow. "Transition?"

"I was born a boy," Ije replied calmly, her gaze steady as she watched for Jidenna's reaction. "And for a while, I was happy like that. But with time, it started to feel... wrong. Not that there's anything wrong with being a man, but it didn't feel true. Like I was wearing a skin that didn't belong to me."

She shrugged, a gesture that seemed to encompass years of confusion and struggle. "With everyone busy or avoiding me, there wasn't anybody I could talk to about it. So after a few years of this, I acted rashly. Body changing magic back then wasn't as advanced as it is now, and since I was afraid that it was something to be ashamed of—"

"You went to an Aethertouch instead," Jidenna finished, his voice soft with understanding. "One unaffiliated with any of the Great Sects and so less likely to know who you were." His gaze was sympathetic. "I imagine they weren't very good."

Ije's nod was barely noticeable, a slight dip of her chin. "She was eighteen and had just hit Apprentice, barely older than me and just about as strong as a Disciple. To her credit, she did make the changes remarkably well. She just forgot to take into account my anwansi channels or something like that."

Her voice grew strained, the memory clearly still painful. "I couldn't hear much of her explanations over my screams of agony. Luckily, her brother had more sense than the both of us and very quickly raised the alarm. I don't think I've ever seen my mother that scared since then."

Ije flicked her hand as if waving away the thought. "In any case, things got better from there. I took a very long time to heal, and in between bouts of them screaming at me for my foolishness, we started to bond."

A soft smile played at her lips, the first genuine one since she began her story. "Onyebuchi came running back once he heard what had happened and stayed. It didn't matter that they didn't know which of them was my real father, and when a life-affiliated dibia offered to check, they turned him down. They loved Mother. They loved me. And over time, they became really good friends."

She ran a quick hand over her eyes, brushing away the hint of moisture that had gathered there. "So... yeah. That's how I got three fathers. Mother didn't waste any time in naming them her consorts, and when my grandparents passed and she truly took over, they did so as one." Her voice grew stronger, pride evident in her tone. "Which, I think, was for the best. The Aralu clan made a play for Sinikat almost immediately after, and I don't think, as green as she was, that she could have handled the war by herself."

"No. I don't think so too," Jidenna agreed softly. He hesitated for a moment, then reached out, giving her shoulders a light, comforting squeeze before letting his hand drift away. His gaze turned to the pedestal at the centre of the room, its surface etched with ancient symbols of power and protection. "How often do other clans attack yours?"

Ije's scowl was answer enough, but she elaborated, her voice tight with frustration. "More than I would like. A lot of people are envious of our control of the Tower, not to mention the ports and incoming trade as well. Even with my fathers helping, we are still in an in-between state. Not having the time or many resources to get one of them to Mystic and qualify as a major clan."

Her fingers clenched, the fabric of her robe bunching under her grip. "Nearly all of the Six have offered to make us their vassals again and again. Even the Chinyelugos asked once before their Throne died ten years ago."

"You've never agreed," Jidenna observed.

"It's a tempting offer," Ije admitted, her voice low. "Under them, we would have enough manpower to delegate more and let one of my parents undergo the intensive meditation and cultivation required to increase in rank. Or have enough wealth to buy passage through a Nexus Gate and try to bypass that process entirely."

She paused, her gaze distant as if seeing the potential futures play out before her. "But the truth is, until that happens, we would not be strong enough to ensure we wouldn't simply be absorbed into the clan or defend ourselves if the other Vassals come for us. There's no guarantee, after all, that a Court would step in for such a conflict."

As if sensing the heaviness of the conversation, Izu, who had been investigating the corners of the room, paddled over to them He considered the talking humans with studied disinterest for a moment, then jumped onto Jidenna's head in one graceful motion, eliciting a soft chuckle from the man.

Ije stared at the bored cheetah-fox with unseeing eyes, lost in thought. "We can't keep this up. Already the Great Clans are starting to take offence with our continued refusal. Father knows how long the Tower will last, and if... when it goes, that's it. We lose a large chunk of revenue. No more taxes on whatever is found, and far fewer people will bother to visit the city."

Her voice grew bitter, tinged with resignation. "Swearing ourselves to the Oselokas isn't the worst option, but it's quickly becoming our only option." She let out a frustrated sigh, the sound echoing in the chamber. "Still, I suppose it's better than losing everything and dying when we eventually lose a war. I'm no prodigy like Olisa and Kainene, but at twenty-eight, I'm one of the youngest Ordained on the continent. That and my parents' rankings should help us retain some clout."

Jidenna nodded in agreement, then paused for a moment. Suddenly, a wild grin spread across his. "Twenty-eight, huh? That's odd. I could have sworn I sensed an old soul in you. I thought you were ancient, like thirty-one or something."

The smack Ije delivered to his shoulder wasn't quite playful, but the tension in the room dissipated. "Please. My ageing slowed down when I hit Ordained five years ago. And even if I was older, you know very well that age begins to lose all meaning when you break through to the Soul Realm."

"Yeah, yeah," Jidenna conceded, shooing away her indignation with a dismissive hand. But his grin was infectious, and Ije found her anger disappearing almost immediately. A traitorous thought flitted through her mind: Why did he have to have such a nice smile?

"Well," he began, his voice tearing her thoughts asunder. "You guys are in a fair bit of trouble, I'll admit. But I wouldn't worry about it. These things have a way of solving themselves, and as an old friend of mine likes to say: all will be well." His eyes grew warmer for a split second. "Now then," Jidenna continued, rising to his feet in one fluid motion, dislodging Izu who leapt gracefully to the floor, "I do believe we've rested enough, don't you think? We'd better go find your friends. Mother knows what terrible things they've gotten themselves into." He offered her a hand, his palm calloused but warm. "Shall we?"

Ije stared at him, then at the proffered limb for a second. Then she gave a mental shrug and took it, black on white, allowing him to pull her up. The contact sent a small jolt through her, a mix of her own anwansi and something else, something uniquely Jidenna.

"This doesn't mean I trust you," she warned, managing a weak glare that didn't quite reach her eyes.

But that melted away in the face of Jidenna's response, a bright, clear laugh that echoed across the room, seeming to make the very air shimmer with mirth. It was a sound, Ije decided as they began to move towards the chamber's exit, that she did not mind at all.