The campfire crackled under the starlit savanna as Tano erupted into a boisterous chuckle, slapping his knee—HA. "Nuru's touch? Come on, Silent One! Next you'll say you wrestled a ghost ape and won a medal!" He leaned back, drumming a mocking beat—tap-jest-tap—"Bet it's just a fancy story to impress Beatless!" Kairo smirked, his eyes glinting with playful mischief: "Loudmouth, let him speak before you trip over your own drums!" Tano barked another laugh, waving a hand dismissively: "HA—Fine, fine! Spill it, N'Dari—did Nuru teach you to talk in third person too, or is that your own weird rhythm?"
N'Dari sat still, his armour catching the firelight, molten tattoos glowing faintly, his silence weighing heavy against Tano's disbelief. Yet beneath his stoic shell, a flicker of irritation stirred—Nuru's whisper testing his resolve. He adjusted his scorched bronze cloak, steel eyes locking onto the flames, and began, his voice low like a hammer on cooled steel, drawing the brothers in despite Tano's lingering grins.
"N'Dari's tale begins in the Iron Bushlands," he rumbled, patient eyes unmoving. Tano snorted, leaning forward with a grin: "HA! Yeah? Let me guess—big ape ghost shows up for tea?" Kairo nudged him, empathetic pull sensing N'Dari's quiet pain. "Easy, thunder-head. Let him finish—I feel something in this." N'Dari's lip twitched faintly, a rare warmth beneath his severity, but he pressed on, his third-person cadence deliberate, messing with Tano just enough to earn an eye-roll.
"It was no waking vision," N'Dari continued, tone measured. "A boy of only eleven years, untested, lay in the forged sleep of the Outpost, where Kivuli's hammers fade to night's hum. The dream came unbidden—the air shimmered like molten seams cracking under pressure. N'Dari stood in a void-lit plain, dunes black as forged iron stretching endless, but a silver glow pierced the dark, drawing him forward."
He paused, recalling the tremor in his chest, the call beyond the clang of iron—thrum-call-thrum. The tribe had whispered of Nuru, the Lost Spirit, vanished since the Fracture War, but that night, his presence filled the dream like a resonant forge. "Nuru appeared—a massive silver ape, fur glowing like moonlight on cooled steel, chains of light coiling around his arms. His eyes, silver and piercing, cut through N'Dari's soul, seeing the unformed iron within. He phased from the Void while his calm authority silenced the dream's whispers, as if reality itself bent to his will."
Tano leaned in, grin fading to curious squint—tap… listen… tap—"Okay, spooky ape shows up. Then what—gives you a pat on the back?" Kairo's observant eyes softened, his loneliness eased by the shared fire, urging gently: "Sounds real, Silent One. What did he say?" N'Dari nodded, his metal armour's red cracks flickering like embers, Hammerheart syncing with the land as he delved deeper.
"Nuru spoke—his voice echoing from afar, calm yet commanding—'Young iron, you carry potential, but hubris breaks the soul.' His Spirit Chain lashed out—coiling around N'Dari, not to harm but to teach. The chains burned with void energy—flooding the mind with visions of Ishara's past: the golden age when tribes wove as one, Echo Beasts guiding harmony. Then the Fracture War shattered it—humans clashing over Aura, misusing power like blades without restraint, shadows rising from greed. Nuru's sorrow echoed as he retreated to the ethereal plane, vanishing to teach restraint through absence."
N'Dari's voice dipped heavy with memory—the firelight dancing on his armour as if echoing his turmoil. "He revealed N'Dari's path—'You will be a companion to the void-born, the one who echoes my light in shadow. Guard him, for balance teeters.' Visions flashed: a child born under three suns, light shifting to silver—flicker-prophecy-flicker—the void-born, destined to mend what fractured. Nuru's Phantom Guidance warned, 'The Fallen Prophet's corruption grows where wisdom fades—endure, young iron, for the silence tempts all.'"
Tano's laughter died, insecurity prickling as he scratched his dreads—tap… unease… tap—"Void-born? You mean Beatless? An ape ghost picked you to babysit him?" Kairo leaned in, empathetic pull strong. His own loneliness mirrored in N'Dari's tale: "If it's true, Silent One… tell us more. We're in this together." N'Dari's steel eyes softened, a rare vulnerability beneath his forged calm—his reverence for endurance pushing him to share.
"The tribe awoke N'Dari at dawn, but the chains' echo lingered—sealing Nuru's touch into this forged heart. N'Dari's tattoos flared molten red—unlocking latent Aura, blending silence with endurance. Since that night, N'Dari hears him—tempting despair, testing steel. Zalia forged my silence, but Nuru shaped my soul. N'Dari guards Kairo not just by order, but by his will—to balance light against shadow." The fire crackled—SILENCE—as Tano scratched his head, grudging respect growing, while Kairo hummed softly—his loneliness eased by this shared depth. N'Dari's story hung in the air, a bridge between their bonds, promising more revelations as the night deepened.