The fire's rhythm had slowed to embers, its crackle a low heartbeat in the hush. Crickets whispered through the tall grass, and a silver wind curled around the circle as though listening.
Tano drummed idly on his knee—tap… pause… tap—as if unsure whether to joke again or let silence speak. Finally, he grunted, "So the ape ghost gave you homework and vanished. Grand tale, Silent One—but what even is this Aura he spoke of? You all talk like it's air and flame at once."
N'dari exhaled softly, gaze steady on the flame. "It is both—and neither." He lifted a hand, palm hovering above the fire. "Aura is the breath of Ishara herself—the pulse that links flesh, spirit, and emotion. Every creature that feels, every stone that remembers heat, carries its echo."
The fire flared faintly as if obeying him. Kairo leaned closer, eyes glinting. "So… it's life?"
"Life—and intent," N'dari answered. "Aura is shaped by what your heart holds most. The tribes call these echoes Currents of Emotion. Courage, empathy, passion, patience, resolve, despair—six rivers flowing through the same soul."
Tano raised a brow. "Six rivers, huh? Which one do the Zuberi paddle?"
"The storm's," N'dari said. "Passion. Yours drums with lightning, feeding speed and rhythm. That's why your tribe moves as one; your hearts beat to the same thunder."
Tano grinned, half-proud, half-relieved to hear his own tongue in it. "Hah! So my rhythm's sacred after all."
"But fragile," N'dari continued evenly. "Rhythm breaks in silence. That is why when the Void stirs, your drums will falter."
Tano's grin faltered, unease flickering behind his eyes. His fingers paused mid-beat above the drum's hide. "Only me?" "Only the Zuberi blood goes mute?" he muttered.
N'dari's gaze didn't waver. "All rhythm meets its silence. The question is when."
Tano stared at his palms then returned his gaze towards N'dari. "You talk like it's already been written."
N'dari nodded once. "Because the Void feeds on resonance. The stronger the rhythm, the hungrier it becomes. Those of your blood feel the silence first."
Kairo shifted uneasily, the reflection of the fire cutting across his face. "Then what of the rest of us? What about my Aura?"
N'dari's eyes lifted, steel calm softening for a moment. "Yours… adapts. You mirror those around you. Resonant, they might call it—a rare current born between tribes. It can reflect courage, empathy, even despair, depending on whose heart you stand beside. I suppose that is why Nuru chose you—you are a bridge."
Kairo's throat tightened. "A bridge between what?"
"Between the light and the silence. "The words hung heavy before N'dari's tone deepened.
"Listen well. There are six primary Auras, each born from the balance of Ishara's heart:
Solar Aura — of the Jua, drawn from Courage. Light that inspires and blinds.
Lunar Aura — of the Imani, born of Empathy. Reflection that heals or deceives.
Rhythmic Aura — of the Zuberi, born of Passion. Sound that strikes and synchronizes.
Ancestral Aura — of Kiroho, born of Patience. Spirit that heals and defends.
Forge Aura — of the Kivuli, born of Resolve. Metal that endures and silences.
Void Aura — was manifested by Azar. Born of Despair. Shadows that consume and corrupt."
The fire dimmed as he spoke that last word, a chill rippling through the grass.
Tano's drum fingers froze mid-air. "And Shujaa Arts—where do those fit in?"
N'dari drew a small coal from the fire with his gauntlet, holding it without flinching. "A Shujaa Art is what happens when emotion becomes discipline. When you command your Aura instead of being commanded by it. The Jua turn Courage into radiance—Sunburst. The Zuberi mold Passion into rhythm—Thunderclap. The Imani weave Empathy into illusion—Moonveil. Each art is a story told through control."
He crushed the ember to ash between his fingers. "Lose control, and the art becomes curse."
Kairo watched the falling embers spiral into the dust. "Then… could someone wield more than one?"
N'dari hesitated—the faintest pause of uncertainty. "In theory. But it demands balance few possess. Emotion wars with emotion. Courage burns Patience. Passion scatters Resolve. Only the Resonant—" he looked directly at Kairo "—could mirror them without breaking."
Silence swelled again, vast and humming. Even Tano didn't joke this time. The fire sighed and leaned east with the wind, as if bowing to something unseen.
N'dari's gaze returned to the stars. "Remember this: Aura is not power—it is truth made visible. The stronger your heart, the brighter or darker your flame."
Tano finally huffed, tapping one last slow beat on his drum rim. "Then here's my truth—I need sleep before my heart sets itself on fire."
Kairo laughed softly, tension easing. "Good luck sleeping after lessons like that."
N'dari gave a faint, amused snort—rare as thunder in drought. "Then meditate instead. Ishara listens best to silence."
The wind carried the last of the ember's glow into the tall grass, and the night folded around them—calm, endless, and full of unseen rhythm.