The sun dipped behind the Ukpo Hills, casting long shadows over the kingdom of Abiriba. But in one forgotten corner of the land, where the forest thickened and even hunters whispered prayers before entering, a different shadow moved—one not born of sunset, but of secrets.
Uzoaru stood at the entrance of Aga Ọnọ, the ancient shrine of reconciliation. Only the pure of heart and purpose dared come here. The priestess had summoned her after the courtyard judgment. "The spirits are not finished with you," she had said. "The journey may have ended, but the test has not."
The shrine smelled of damp earth, incense, and memory. Clay masks lined the walls—faces of past maidens, warriors, and cursed kings. Some were smiling. Most were not.
Uzoaru stepped inside, her footsteps echoing in the silence.
In the center of the chamber, the shrine's guardian—Madam Ezuruike, wrapped in raffia and beads—sat cross-legged beside a bowl of flame.
"Uzoaru," she said without looking up. "You walk gently. That is good. But know this: the crown is not your goal. It is your burden."
Uzoaru bowed. "I do not seek it."
"But it seeks you," Ezuruike replied, eyes now locking with hers. "And so does something else. Something older than Abiriba. Something that awakens when love, envy, and destiny collide."
The fire flared, casting shapes on the wall. One looked like a woman cloaked in feathers. Another, like a serpent with eyes of coral.
"Two maidens returned," Ezuruike continued. "But only one has spoken to the ancestors. Do you wish to see what they see?"
Uzoaru nodded.
The priestess threw herbs into the fire. Smoke curled upward, sweet and sharp. Uzoaru inhaled—and the world spun.
Visions of What Was and Could Be
She was standing in a forest, but not one of trees. These were ancient spirits, rooted like trunks, whispering in tongues long buried. Before her stood Nwanne, wearing a crown of black thorns.
Behind her, Prince Nwabueze sat upon a golden stool—but it cracked beneath him, breaking into shards.
Then, Uzoaru saw herself—alone, yet radiant. A new path opened. A crown floated above her, made not of metal but of light.
And a voice spoke:
"One will be queen. One will be cursed. The prince will bleed. And the land must choose who saves whom."
She gasped.
Back in the Shrine
The vision vanished. Uzoaru stumbled backward.
Ezuruike caught her.
"Not all truths are gifts," the priestess whispered. "Some are burdens. But you must carry it now."
Uzoaru breathed heavily. "What does it mean?"
"It means," Ezuruike said, "the next test will not come with monsters or sickness. It will come with choices—one of which may break your heart or your soul."
Elsewhere, in the Depths of the Forest
Meanwhile, Nwanne knelt at a different altar.
A dark-robed figure lit seven candles around her. Her second visit to the forbidden seer had come with warnings. But desperation outpaced fear.
"Tell me," Nwanne demanded. "What does Uzoaru see? What does she know?"
The seer placed a bone in her hand. "She knows of sacrifice. You know of ambition. But neither of you knows what the prince hides."
Nwanne's brow furrowed. "What does he hide?"
The seer grinned, revealing teeth stained with kola nut and ash.
"Love, child," she whispered. "Love so deep, it could doom you both."