The pressure inside Sagiri's mind intensified. The visions around him faded into darkness once more, yet the knowledge remained. Then, without warning, an answer appeared within his thoughts.
You have met two of the Fourth Tribe. They died before the Fifth.
The meaning struck him immediately.
Had he met two?
The Fourth Tribe. The tribe of hidden paths and unseen roads. The tribe that had vanished from history before the Fifth was finally erased.
More knowledge settled into Sagiri's mind.
N'folu broke the first oath.
The vision shifted. He saw the five tribes gathered beneath the treaty banners, then saw cracks spreading through what had once united them.
The Fourth Tribe did not leave the South willingly.
Ancient cities flashed before him. Arguments. Accusations. Fear.
N'folu feared the roads between worlds.
The silver masks of the Fourth Tribe appeared again.
They feared what they could reach.
They feared what they could discover.
The memories accelerated.
