Chapter2: The Will of The Gods
"You Dare Try to Burn My Maid?"Susan's voice struck the air like a whip.
The ground shuddered beneath her feet. Stalls toppled. Birds took flight. The sky darkened for a moment as if even the sun flinched.
All around them, people scrambled in terror. Marketgoers fell to their knees, whispering prayers, clutching amulets.
But not Great.
Not Wisdom.
They stood still.
Smiling.
Unbothered.
"Ah-ah," Wisdom said, stepping forward as the earth cracked around his feet. "Sister... it's not our fault o. It's your maid."
He walked toward her casually, as if the trembling ground were nothing but a child's tantrum.
Great's voice followed, soft but cool as death. "Why don't you join us, sister?" he offered, smiling. "You always come late to the fun."
Susan's gaze dropped on them like a hawk's. "You're embarrassing Father," she said, voice low with restrained fury.
The dust hadn't even settled.
Before she could finish her breath, Wisdom dashed in, planting a hand on her shoulder with a laugh.
"Ah, my cold, elegant sister. Don't frown like that! Calm your anger, ehn?"
Susan didn't flinch.
She turned, expression unchanged.
"Nkechi," she said, without removing her eyes from her brothers. "You must have come to these thugs for a reason."
The maid, still tense, arm cracked with dried stone bowed low.
"My Lady," she said quickly, voice trembling. "The Lord summons the Young Lords."
Wisdom sighed, his fire-drenched eye flickering with mild annoyance.
"Ehn? What does that old man want now?"
Susan's stare sharpened.
"I believe the father will be quite interested to hear how you refer to him," she said.
And with that
She stomped her foot.
The ground opened beneath them with a deep, guttural groan. In an instant, the earth swallowed them whole.
Then
They were spat out into the palace courtyard in a swirl of soil and leaves.
"Ooh..." Great murmured, brushing dust from his robe. He glanced sideways at Susan, intrigued. "Her skills continues to grow."
He stroked his chin.
"A teleportation ability... one that allows the wielder to instantly travel to any place they've been before. Not bad."
Susan didn't reply.
She simply walked.
They all did toward the throne hall.
A pair of massive carved doors stood open, revealing a room gilded in gold, obsidian, and the bones of ancient beasts.
At the center sat Chief Obi a mighty man, draped in lion hide, dreadlocks cascading like roots down his back. His eyes glowed faintly with ancestral power.
His voice was calm but sharp as a blade.
"Wisdom. Great." he said. "You finally decide to show your face."
His words fell heavy.
"You use your strength to oppress, to intimidate, to destroy without honor. I, your father, have never ruled in such a way."
He leaned forward.
"There will be punishments for your actions."
His tone allowed no argument.
But the boys did not bow.
They did not tremble.
Great stepped forward, hands behind his back.
"Father," he said, eyes unreadable. "You've always taught us one thing."
He paused.
"Strength is all we need."
His face did not move.
No smile. No sneer. Just stillness, like frozen water.
"So why," he asked, "do you now speak of punishment?"
There was silence.
Then Chief Obi rose.
His aura exploded outward, shaking the chamber walls. Dust poured from the ceiling. The throne cracked at the base.
"You DARE speak so boldly before me?!"
His voice roared like a thunder god.
Mana flooded the room, hot and thick and violent. Servants outside the hall dropped to their knees. A horse collapsed in the stables. The air itself seemed to bend.
Obi's face twisted with fury.
"Boy. Know your place. It is not yet your turn."
Chief Obi's fury crackled like dry wood under flame, his voice still thundering through the hall.
"For a lion who roars too soon forgets the forest is watching."
He turned his gaze from Great to Wisdom, eyes piercing like javelins.
"I expect more... far more from the sons of Isiala."
Then, slowly, his anger settled. The storm within his presence withdrew like a tide, but the air remained charged.
He sat back on his throne.
"Ha!" he exhaled, as a bemused smile curved his lips. "Why can't the two of you be more like my precious Susan?"
Susan, standing with arms folded in the golden light of the chamber, allowed herself a small smile.
Chief Obi's tone sharpened once more.
"Wisdom. Great. Your deities have sent... advisors."
At once, the great chamber doors creaked open.
Two figures stepped through the entrance, their steps echoing with the weight of something ancient.
The first a towering man, bald, robed in burning red silk. Two curved machetes were strapped to his back like silent threats. His face was hard, carved with deep scowls, as if even joy feared to rest there. His body muscle and scar.
The second a woman, wrapped in silken garments that clung to her like mist. She moved with such grace, she seemed to glide rather than walk. Her body was curved like a sculpture of temptation, but what arrested the room was not her form.
It was her eyes deep, cold, and ancient. Darkness lived in them. Knowledge older than bone. As she approached, her gaze met with Great.
Neither of them blinked.
Chief Obi rose slightly from his throne and stretched out his hand in greeting.
"The Oracle of The Ocean . The Oracle of Fire," he said, voice solemn. "Welcome to Isiala."
He bowed his head slightly an honor rarely given.
"I am not a man of many words," he continued, "but I know you feel it... deep inside these boys."
He pointed toward Wisdom and Great, his voice low with reverence.
"They are the ones. The inheritors of divine will."
A flicker of recognition passed across both advisors faces.
And then they vanished.
The man of flame erupted into fire, vanishing from sight and reappearing before Wisdom in a flash of sparks. He dropped to one knee, bowing his head.
The woman descended like a falling leaf, soft and weightless. She landed before Great, her robes rustling like whispers. She bowed too lower, slower.
Both boys blinked, stunned.
Then
burning symbols bloomed... on their forearms. Tattoos unlike any seen before, crawling like liquid light across their skin.
The fiery advisor's voice trembled with reverence. "Praise be. Their talent transcends even the holy order... they are born of heaven's breath."
Wisdom grinned wide, his eye blazing. "Now we're talking."
Great remained silent.
He gazed at the woman before him not with desire, but something colder. Analytical. Penetrating. A subtle challenge in his silence.
And then she shivered.
It was slight, but unmistakable.
A ripple of discomfort passed through her perfect posture.
Chief Obi noticed.
His voice cut through the air like a spear.
"Audacious boy. Calm your gaze. This instant."
Great blinked once.
Then bowed. "I apologize, Father."
Wisdom laughed under his breath.
Great shot him a glare sharp enough to silence fire.
Chief Obi turned back to the two guides.
"Train them," he commanded, voice once again calm, but firm. "In the way of their respective idols."
He stood, spreading his arms wide.
"In five year's reaping, The Rite of Crowns will be held. One that will shake the balance of the City of Isiala."
He looked at each of them in turn.
"I expect nothing less than victory."