"Oh! Forgive me—I did not mean to startle you. I was merely observing, and when I heard the young lady questioning whether this is Ogun, I felt inclined to answer!" The hooded figure explained with a polite dip of his head, his voice carrying an oddly melodic cadence.
Kaida shrank behind Firion, her fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeve. Though her horns detected not even a whisper of malicious intent from this stranger, something about the way he studied them—like a scholar examining rare specimens—sent a chill crawling down her spine.
Firion's ears twitched, catching nuances in the man's tone that others might have missed. "Thank you for the information," he said carefully, his voice measured and calm. "But my wife is shy around strangers, and I do not wish to cause her distress. We will excuse ourselves now."
"No trouble at all! I wish you both well as you explore the beautiful cultures of Junai!" The figure bowed slightly, the shadows beneath his hood deepening. "I do hope that when we meet again, I will not come across as so frightening! Take care!"
He retreated with a cheerful wave, disappearing into the crowd's ebb and flow.
Firion waited until the figure was swallowed by the distance before turning to Kaida. "Did your horns sense anything peculiar about that fellow?"
She bit her lower lip, her brow furrowing. "He seemed... very curious. Almost hungry for information. But I still feel uneasy—perhaps because we couldn't see his face?" She suggested, her voice small.
Perhaps they were simply being paranoid. In a place as warm and gregarious as Taraji, where everyone wore their hearts on their sleeves and greeted strangers like old friends, this person's attire—covered from crown to heel in heavy cloth—did not add up. It stood out like a shadow at noon.
Maybe Jaheim or Alima could shed light on the subject, but Firion and Kaida silently agreed not to let it overwhelm their day.
As they walked away from the statue, Firion glanced back over his shoulder—but the hooded figure had vanished completely. For some inexplicable reason, the man's voice echoed in his memory, eerily familiar, like a song heard in childhood that he could no longer place.
Out of sight, the hooded figure crouched behind Ogun's statue, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.
Perhaps the cloaked approach was a touch too intimidating, he mused to himself, but eventually, he's bound to discover who I am. Nafula already warned me—if I act malicious, she'll cut apricot pudding from supper for an entire month.
Suddenly, a chorus of hostile voices erupted from passersby. "Hey, you hooded creep! We're watching you!"
The figure sighed, pulling his cloak tighter. So others were thinking the same thing.
---
Meanwhile, Firion suggested to Kaida that they explore the local farms at the northernmost edge of Taraji. Jaheim had told him, during their soak in the man's bathhouse, of the various saurian species bred by locals—creatures of every shape and temperament, all available for curious eyes to behold.
As they ventured farther from the town's bustling heart, it became abundantly clear why saurians were praised as wonders of beauty in Junai.
The couple quickly spotted flying saurians—like the one named Sky that belonged to Emani—hovering overhead, their magnificent wings catching the sunlight. Some even carried riders on their backs! Most likely rangers or shepherds keeping watch over the farms below.
Kaida gasped as she spotted a farm full of three-horned saurians like Lola, grazing casually in emerald fields. A few babies tottered around their mothers on unsteady legs, their tiny horns barely nubs. She could not help but marvel at how utterly adorable they were!
"Firion, look at how small they are! They're so tiny compared to their mommies!" She exclaimed, her voice bright with glee.
He smiled despite himself, though a practical concern tempered his amusement. "I wonder if farmers let anyone near them. Some animals get stressed when strangers approach their babies."
"It just depends on the sow—some are more tempered than others!" A familiar voice chimed in.
Kaida spun around, her face lighting up like the sun breaking through clouds. "Alima! You're back! Thank you for the cocoa earlier—both Firion and I loved it!"
"Glad to hear it! Hot cocoa is the best during the cold months!" Alima leaned against the wooden fence, her expression serene as she gazed toward the horizon. "Jaheim is still busy at his uncle's house. Lola has been sleeping heavily since yesterday, so his uncle is very worried about her. Apparently, he's looking to start breeding her instead."
Firion pressed on the matter, his brow creasing. "Will that hinder future patrols for the two of you?"
Alima's gaze grew distant, soft. "Me and Jaheim love being rangers. However, only so many can take on this role at a time. We've been thinking that maybe it's time to assume a less risky life." She paused, her hand drifting unconsciously to her stomach. "Also... before we met you two yesterday, I've been having sickness spells in the mornings. I had a few last night as well."
Firion studied her face, reading the truth written there. "Alima... are you with child?"
Kaida's expression bloomed with joy as she looked at her friend, the confirmation evident in Alima's gentle smile.
"I wasn't sure when I was patrolling the desert," Alima admitted. "But after we returned yesterday, I went to see one of the local midwives. She thinks I might be four to six weeks along." Her voice softened with warmth. "Jaheim looked so happy last night! But he was also crushed when I told him it may be time for us to forgo our positions as rangers."
"It's understandable to want something safer," Firion said, nodding with understanding. "You need to consider your future family."
Kaida chimed in, her concern evident. "Look at what happened to your friend Emani. Besides Acro, I think other dangerous saurians probably still roam around here. You two need to stay safe for your child."
"Ah! Speaking of Emani—" Alima's expression grew somber. "I went by their household, since his wife is my aunt. She told me he's going to give up his ranger status as well. Apparently, he was very depressed by it. But Acro severed a nerve in his thigh, so he's walking with a limp now."
She went on to explain that tonight there would be a great gathering at the local canteen—a place where villagers could receive a warm meal. They were preparing a winter soup from Acro's heart, rich with nutrients, and everyone was expected to attend, including Emani and his family. But she and Jaheim remained uncertain about partaking in Acro's meat.
"You two loved him a lot," Kaida said softly. "But we met a stall owner selling eggs who was very happy he died."
Alima nodded, knowing exactly who they meant. "You must be talking about old Asante. When Acro still lived with us, he got out and killed a bunch of his pop-pops—those avian-like saurians."
She admitted with guilt-laden words that she and Jaheim had done foolish things to protect Acro despite his destructiveness. But in the end, he had to be put down regardless of how they felt.
"So would you two like to come back to my place? I'll show you around the farms, then we can head over together." Alima offered.
---
The door swung open.
"It's not much, but Jaheim and I built this home together. Make yourselves comfortable—feel free to ask me anything! My husband will be home soon." Alima invited them inside her palm hut.
The dwelling was considerably larger than the villa where Firion and Kaida were staying. A spacious living area welcomed guests, with a separate bedroom on the far side divided by a courtesy curtain. Kaida noticed an outdoor cooking area with a mortar and pestle—a lovely, lived-in home, warm with the imprint of shared life.
But something caught Firion's attention on the floor. He crouched, inspecting closely—little black footprints, left behind by some small creature.
He couldn't help but ask, "Do you two own a pet of some kind?"
Alima looked down at the prints, and her expression softened into something bittersweet. "No... those footprints belonged to Acro. Jaheim likes illustrating pictures of animals, and about thirty years ago, when he lived in this home, he got into the wax paint and made a mess." She chuckled, but the sound carried more sorrow than mirth.
She walked over and lightly traced her fingers over the tiny imprint. "You know, we also thought that one day he would grow into our guardian mount. We would ride out into the desert together, and he would always live beside us..." Her voice trailed off. "But he became more hostile as he grew. It got to the point where the village demanded we either kill him or relocate him. But he would always come back..."
Suddenly, a new voice interrupted from the doorway.
"We just kept hoping he would find a place where he belonged. But in the end, Bibi's premonition about his demise came true."
Jaheim leaned against the house's frame, his posture heavy with something unspoken. His eyes carried the weight of grief held at arm's length.
Alima walked to him, her hand rising to cup his face. He looked at her, and something in his expression shifted—a decision made.
"I have decided," he said quietly, firmly. "I will drink the soup made from his heart tonight. This way, a part of him will live on inside me." His voice cracked, just slightly. "I know, to others, he was a vicious beast. But to us... all I could ever see was that little hatchling when he opened his eyes for the first time."
"Jaheim, are you sure you want to do that?" Alima cooed, her thumb stroking his cheek. "I just don't want you to feel overwhelmed."
He looked back at her, his expression confident yet tinged with sadness. "I am sure this is what I want, my wife."
He walked inside and approached one of the bookshelves, pulling out a picture journal.
"Here, you two—look at this picture I drew." Jaheim offered the book to them.
The illustration was an adorable sketch: a frail baby saurian of some kind, sleeping peacefully in a woven basket.
Kaida immediately realized who it was. "Is this really Acro? How could that cute baby become something so terrifying?"
Even Firion struggled to reconcile the spiny beast he had killed yesterday with this adorable little creature.
"Saurians are animals of many wonders and beauty," Jaheim explained, "but there are just as many ferocious things about them. They range from insect-eaters to plant-eaters to pure carnivores. When he was small, all Acro did was eat dragonflies—so we assumed he was just an insect-eater. But as he got bigger..." He shook his head. "We realized we had made a terrible mistake."
Firion interrupted gently. "But he wasn't an insect-eater. We met an egg seller who mentioned that Acro killed some of his animals."
"Ah! I guess that explains the pop-pop eggs over there." Jaheim nodded. "Yes—Asante and many others lost livestock because of our attachment to Acro. Many of them still hold a grudge against me and Alima. But I cannot blame them."
Kaida's horns had analyzed so many differing emotions directed toward one creature. To Alima and Jaheim, Acro was a beloved family member. To others, he was a menace—and given what they had lost, it was hard to blame them for that perspective.
She thought of Misha then—her wolf, a predator who needed to kill to survive. Would Misha be treated the same way if circumstances were different? The thought of her beloved companion being killed made her heart heavy with a grief that mirrored what these two were feeling now.
Jaheim caressed the picture of the baby Acro, his voice steady with resolve. "But despite everything, I refuse to say I regret it. I know the atrocities he committed. But he gave me and Alima many wonderful memories as well." He lifted his chin. "Instead, I will remember him for the Acro that I loved."
Firion smiled at him—a rare, genuine smile. Rather than drown in regret, Jaheim chose to acknowledge his choices and stand by them.
"I am certain you two will make great parents," Firion told them.
Jaheim's cheeks flushed as he rubbed the back of his hair. "Ah! So Alima told you the news, huh? When the midwife told me I was going to be a father, I knew I had to start acting more like an adult—not dwell on past decisions! I want to—"
Suddenly, a stomach growl rumbled through the room like distant thunder, drawing laughter from everyone.
"Gyahahaha!" Jaheim boomed. "Unfortunately for my husband, tonight's dinner is still hours away. How about Kaida and I go whip up something to tide us over until then?" Alima suggested.
Kaida perked up, remembering the eggs she had been given. "Actually, why don't we make a scramble for lunch? Mr. Asante shared a recipe with me."
The two women walked outside to the open-air kitchen, leaving Firion and Jaheim to talk.
"Actually, Jaheim—I just remembered something." Firion's voice dropped, serious. "Are the clergymen around here normally cloaked head to toe? Kaida and I encountered an eerie individual earlier today, in front of Ogun's shrine..."
But he was met with a bewildered expression from the ladder.
Jaheim replied slowly, "What are you talking about, Firion? Clergymen are not part of our cultural rituals."
A worrisome expression overcame both of them in that moment.
---
Elsewhere, that same clergyman was meeting with a certain someone.
"Really? You hide your identity dressed that way? I'm surprised the villagers didn't kick you out for looking so suspicious." A tall, elderly-looking deva woman spoke as she gazed outside, smoking from a water pipe.
The cloaked individual chuckled. "Well, I was threatened quite a few times! But I don't know any other way to approach them without sending the community into a stir. Everyone here knows who I am, and my identity might make those two panic."
The deva woman turned her head toward the cloaked man, revealing a rather youthful face despite her clear age. Multiple braids accented her long, flowing white hair. As with any white fang deva, she had lion ears and a tail that dragged behind her.
She exhaled a large breath of smoke and lamented, "Sometimes I don't understand why my niece chose such a strange person like you to be her husband."