I opened my eyes to Sanna and Zalika, with their focus state completely off, looking at me with surprise on their faces. No sound came out, but I can see Sanna lips mouth the words 'So beautiful'.
I looked towards the mirror on the adjacent wall to see what she was referring to and I could now see the state of my body. Violet aura covered every inch of my body flowing around me like I was on fire. Seeing my outer appearance also made me aware of how my body felt.
I felt 5x times more energetic, I felt lighter, my mind was clearer, I felt like I could run through a wall, it felt euphoric. The strangest thing that I did see, was above my head the aura that was present was forming a shape I couldn't make out.
At that moment, I heard a voice cut through my thoughts, turning off my connection to focus.
"Sanna; Professor Mirembe is summoning us." The controlled voice of Femi cut through the silence of the room. I turned to the door to see him leaning to the side of the entrance hands in his pockets focusing intently on his sister.
Purposefully avoiding eye contact with me. Sanna narrowed her eyes to discern if he was telling the truth. A moment later she got up to follow him out.
"Of course, brother," before leaving the room she gave me a bow.
"Thank you Rahjah, I've witnessed and learn far more than I thought I would." I nodded and she followed her brother out. Femi shot an annoyed glance at me on his way out that I didn't pay much mind. I don't think I'll ever fully comprehend his problem with me.
"I would like to thank you as well; I was able to achieve the focus state and I'm confident I'll be able to achieve it on my own with your example as well."
Zalika got up as well and gave me a slight bow. She had a complicated look on her face. I would've guessed that there was more she wanted to say to me, but it seemed like she thought better of it and turned around to leave.
However, my little brother was walking down the hall towards us blocking the way.
"Here I thought you would be harder to find Rah, Professor Mirembe has told us to pack up. Our lessons here are over and we're moving on to the next Kingdom." Zalika just nodded and moved passed Talib calmly.
"How soon are we leaving?" I looked up and noticed the camera watching us in the corner of the room. Either they were waiting on everyone in the group achieving focus state or someone in the group breaking free to enter it on their own before moving on.
"I have no clue, the old lady is waiting for us to gather in the living room."
I chuckled slightly at the thought that of Professor Mirembe hearing Talib call her old. The result would be hilarious for me and painful for him.
I rose to my feet and followed Talib to the living room.
When we arrived with the rest of the fellowship. The lighthearted atmosphere I left in the training room had disappeared. I have always believed that silence carries its own kind of gravity.
Even before Professor Mirembe spoke, the air in the penthouse felt heavier than usual—thick with the residue of our training, our failures, our breakthroughs, and the unspoken fears none of us dared to voice. The eight of us stood in a loose semicircle around her, the afternoon sun spilling through the panoramic windows behind her like a halo. Addis Ababa stretched endlessly below, a living tapestry of color and movement, but none of us were looking at the city.
We were looking at her.
Professor Mirembe's presence had a way of commanding attention without raising her voice. She stood with her hands clasped behind her back, her posture straight, her expression unreadable. Her dark robes shimmered faintly with the residual energy. I now can recognize echoes of her own Focus power—never enough to intimidate, but always enough to remind us of who she was.
Who we were learning from.
Was it possible she heard Talib's comment? She did not look like she was in the greatest of moods.
When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, steady, and absolute.
"You have all achieved the baseline of your Focus power," she said, her gaze sweeping across us. "And more importantly, you have gained an understanding of the religious epicenter of our empire. For that, I commend you."
A ripple of pride moved through the group. Even Femi, who rarely showed emotion unless it was irritation, lifted his chin slightly.
But then her tone shifted—barely, but enough.
"Because of this," she continued, "your time in Addis Ababa has come to an end. You are to depart immediately for Johannesburg and the Southern Kingdom."
The words struck like a sudden gust of cold wind.
Not one of us spoke, but the shock was visible—wide eyes, stiffened shoulders, a collective intake of breath. We had expected more training here, more time to stabilize our powers, more time to understand what we were becoming.
But the empire rarely moved according to our expectations.
Professor Mirembe didn't wait for objections—none of us dared to raise one anyway.
"You have one hour," she said. "Pack your belongings and meet me downstairs in front of the lobby. A vehicle will be waiting."
We bowed in unison, the gesture automatic, ingrained since childhood. When we rose, she was already turning toward the elevator, her robes whispering across the polished floor.
The doors closed behind her with a soft chime.
And just like that, the room exhaled.
Everyone dispersed at once—Talib and Imari whispering excitedly as they hurried toward our rooms, Zalika stretching her arms with a groan, Sekai already mentally organizing her luggage, and Femi… well, Femi moved with a tension that had been simmering for days.
I felt it like a pressure behind my ribs.
This was getting uncomfortable and I needed to get to the bottom of it. Especially if we were going to keep sharing a living space.
He was halfway down the hall when I caught up to him.
"Femi," I called.
He stopped, but only barely. Turning his head just enough to acknowledge me, his expression already annoyed. His posture was rigid, his jaw tight. He looked like someone who had been forced to tolerate a presence he didn't want near him.
I approached anyway.
"We should talk," I said.
His eyes narrowed. "About what?"
I inhaled slowly, steadying myself. "I've noticed your… disdain. I don't want tension between us. We're supposed to be a fellowship. If I've done something to offend you, I'd rather clear the air now."
I extended my hand.
A gesture of peace. Of respect.
Femi stared at it as if it were a weapon.
He sighed—long, irritated—and his expression shifted from annoyance to something colder. Indifference. He didn't take my hand.
"I'm not here to make friends," he said flatly. "And I'm not here to play nice. I'm here to prove that I am the most fitting of our generation to remove the Askiya name from the imperial throne."
The words hit harder than I expected.
Not because they were offensive—far from it. I had grown up surrounded by ambition, by nobles, generals, and scholars who dreamed of power. I had heard far worse whispered in palace corridors.
But hearing it from him, spoken so plainly, so confidently…
It surprised me.
Still, I didn't take offense. How could I? Great leaders strive for impossible goals. It is the nature of ambition to reach beyond one's grasp.
I lowered my hand.
"Then I wish you well," I said quietly. "At least now I understand where we stand."
He didn't respond. He simply turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
I watched him go, feeling a strange mixture of pity and clarity settle in my chest.
He saw me as a rival. An obstacle.
But I had no interest in the throne. I wasn't even next in line.
There was no competition to be had.
And yet, for him, the rivalry was real.
I let out a slow breath and returned to my room to pack.