The Silk Lessons
Zion remained among the Web-Walkers longer than expected. Days passed without ceremony, but each one taught him something vital.
From the elders, he learned how to read tension in a thread and how sound could be shaped into vibration. From the warriors, he trained in balance and stealth, learning to fight not by brute strength but by controlling space and flow. Their martial art—Akzari—relied on predicting motion and responding like a spider in its web.
Thalia, once hesitant to even step on the hanging bridges, now ran across them with ease, laughing as she raced children who scampered upside down like bats. She began to admire their restraint, their precision, and how their silence held power—not weakness.
"These people don't waste anything," she whispered one night. "Not food, not words, not even fear."
Zion nodded, feeling the truth in her words. The Web-Walkers may not bow to gods like the Lwa, but they embodied their own kind of divinity—one born of discipline, tradition, and the quiet pride of survival.
Before they left, Elder Ka'Zura handed Zion a small wooden case, wrapped in silk.
"A gift," she said. "From the Spider God. Use it when the silk in your soul begins to snap."
They departed as quietly as they had arrived, the last thing they saw being hundreds of eyes glinting in the canopy, watching.
Nouvo Lakay – The Pyramid Rises
Back home, the shape of the tribe was changing.
Without Zion, the center did not collapse—it crystallized.
At the foundation were the workers and farmers, the children, the crafters. Above them, the warrior patrols and scouts, who now trained in shifts and reported through an organized chain of command. Then came the strategists and chosen, each with defined responsibilities.
At the heart stood the Three Priestesses:
Ayola, marked by Baron Samedi, now coordinated nighttime patrols and burial rites. Her presence made even the bravest warriors walk straighter.
Ayomi, chosen by Papa Legba, organized the information networks, ensuring messages traveled clearly and no threat entered unseen.
Seal, Erzulie Freda's vessel, managed internal morale and balance, strengthening community ties, especially among the youth and the healers.
The top of the pyramid remained empty, but everyone knew whose place it was.
"Zion isn't gone," Ayola said during the first full gathering. "He's watching from afar. He gave us this structure, and it's our duty to make it more than lines and layers. We're building the bones of a future."
Toma's Resolve
Among the scouts was Toma, the young man whose spirit had stirred deeply when he saw the priestesses hunt, fight, and command. He ran drills with fire in his chest. He patrolled longer, studied harder, and began training others with the same discipline the Web-Walkers might admire.
He wasn't chosen by a god, but he didn't need to be.
His blade would be his offering. His growth—his proof.
Beneath It All
As the pyramid took shape, a new kind of silence settled in the village.
It wasn't fear.
It was readiness.
Something was coming. And this time, Nouvo Lakay would not wait to be hunted. They would be ready to strike first if needed—together