The day after Uzoaru's departure, the village of Amaizu was restless.
Whispers danced between market stalls and beneath the shade of kola trees. Women spoke while pounding yam, men leaned on their hoes mid-tilling, and even the children noticed that something had shifted. The tale of Uzoaru's bravery spread quickly. A maiden—unmarried and untested—had accepted a sacred journey on behalf of the ailing crown prince. Many were impressed. Others, especially among the young women, gritted their teeth.
In one compound on the edge of the village, another maiden listened to the whispers with a clenched jaw.
Nwanne stood at her window, her arms folded tightly across her chest, watching as her father's goat bleated its way through the dusty path. Her compound was bigger than most, a testimony to her family's standing. She wore coral beads on her wrists and a fine wrapper that shimmered in the sun. But today, even her beauty felt heavy with resentment.
So she was the one they praised now? Uzoaru? That shy, soft-spoken girl who once shared calabash milk with her in childhood?
Nwanne turned abruptly and called for her mother.
"She's doing all this because she knows the prince will marry her if she succeeds," she said sharply, voice laced with disdain. "And everyone is just watching."
Her mother, Mama Nwakaego, a proud woman with high cheekbones and quick eyes, adjusted her head tie. "You lost your chance when you left his side. The sickness frightened you, and you turned away. She didn't."
Nwanne flared. "I didn't leave him. I simply… moved on."
"You took up with Obidike two market days after the prince collapsed," her mother reminded her. "Don't think the elders didn't notice."
"I thought he would never wake up!" she snapped, then lowered her voice. "I didn't know she would be so bold. Now everyone is acting like she's a queen already."
She paced, then paused.
"Is it too late?" she asked quietly.
Her mother blinked. "To do what?"
"To catch up with her. To go on the journey myself. If the cure is found by me, who's to say the prince won't choose me in the end?"
Mama Nwakaego shook her head slowly. "You cannot travel unfortified. And the seeress has already given her protection. The old ways are strict—only one can be protected per calling."
Nwanne's face darkened. "Then I'll find another seer."
Her mother stiffened. "No. Don't even think of it. The only other one who has that kind of power is the osu seeress in the forbidden valley. She was banished, Nwanne. Her powers come with a price."
Nwanne turned to her father instead.
"Papa… is it true?"
Chief Obum leaned against his walking stick, eyes wary. "It's true. Her name is Dikeoma. She was once consulted in the days of famine, and her medicine saved lives—but her price was too steep. The gods demanded silence about what happened next. If you go to her, your soul might not return untouched."
"I don't care," Nwanne said through gritted teeth. "I cannot sit back while Uzoaru walks into history."
Her mother tried to stop her, but pride and jealousy had already clouded her mind.
That night, while the village slept, Nwanne wrapped herself in a dark shawl and slipped out of the compound. The moon was high, bathing the forest paths in a ghostly silver. Every snap of a twig beneath her feet echoed like thunder in the silence.
Hours passed until she reached the mouth of the forbidden valley. The trees here bent unnaturally, their bark scarred with marks that pulsed faintly under the moonlight. A strange fog hugged the ground.
"I seek the path of fortification," she whispered.
From within the shadows, a voice slithered through the mist. "You come not for healing, but for glory."
The seeress Dikeoma emerged slowly. Her eyes were pale, almost translucent, and her skin shimmered like wet stone.
"You know this path is not one of balance," she said. "You seek to be made equal by force, but fate has already chosen its champion."
"Then unchoose her," Nwanne hissed. "Fortify me too."
Dikeoma's laugh was long and low, like thunder crawling across the hills.
"There is a price. A bond. Once sealed, your strength will come—but so will the hunger that follows it."
"I accept," Nwanne said, without flinching.
The seeress handed her a black bead.
"Swallow this under the full moon. And remember: your strength will be as sharp as your envy."
As Nwanne left the valley, fortified by an ancient and twisted power, her eyes burned with a strange light. Her feet moved faster than ever before. Her heart beat with fierce purpose.
But far ahead of her, Uzoaru was already walking the sacred path — steady, unshaken, and led not by pride, but love.
To be continued in Chapter 3: Trials of the Journey