Ru
— Dad! Wait! Ru shouted, wiping the sweat from his short, neatly faded black dreadlocks.
— Ru? What is it? I'm just going to the fields, replied a middle-aged man with the same hairstyle as his son, though his locks were slightly longer. He wore worn-out clothes, and a hoe rested on his shoulder.
— I told you to rest. With your health, you shouldn't push yourself. I can go instead, Ru said firmly.
The man sighed, a faint, amused smile on his lips.
— Ru, stop acting like you're the father and I'm the son…he chuckled. I'm feeling better, you know. And besides, stay home today. Tomorrow's an important day. It's…
— …the day of the initiation exam, yeah, I know. I'm ready, Dad. Don't forget, I already use my Loa—unlike most others.
Simé gently placed his hand on his son's head.
— I know, I know. But I mean it, you should rest. You already do so much for us.
— That's normal. Mom and Aika aren't here anymore. Someone has to take care of things.
— Exactly. But you also need to take care of yourself, Simé said as he turned toward the door.
But before he could take another step outside, a group of men appeared. Their menacing presence froze the air. Simé spotted them and immediately tensed. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
— Well… I really should get going, he said quickly.
— Simé! Get out of that house! one of the men shouted angrily.
— Dad, who are those guys? Do you know them? Ru asked, peeking through the doorway.
— No idea! Simé replied with an awkward grin. They must have the wrong house. Go on, get back inside. I'll handle it. It's nothing.
— They literally just yelled your name! You think I'm stupid?
— Kisra Simé! another man roared. Show yourself, or we'll come drag you out!
Simé sighed and stepped outside to meet them. Four men were waiting.
— Ah, finally! barked the shortest of them — a plump man with a broad, shadowed face. I hope you brought what we asked for!
— Well… the harvest's been bad this season. If you could just give me one more month…
— Five months, Simé! We've been waiting five damn months! If you didn't have the means, you shouldn't have gambled!
Ru, still listening behind the door, felt his blood boil.
— Did I just hear gambled? he burst out, stepping forward. You swore you'd quit gambling!
— It's not what you think, Simé said quickly, embarrassed. It was too tempting, I couldn't resist… But don't worry, I'll fix it. Promise!
— You never learn, Ru muttered, exasperated. You never listen to me.
He turned sharply, mounting his horse in one swift motion.
— Where are you going? Simé called, his tone anxious.
— Far away from your mess, Ru shot back, pulling on the reins.
He rode off without looking back.
***
As soon as Ru disappeared from sight, Simé's expression hardened. His gaze grew darker, sharper.
— Hey, Simé, you hearing us?!
— Now it's you who'll listen, he growled. I already paid you three-quarters of the sum two months ago. The rest will come at the end of the month. So leave me the hell alone.
He grabbed the collar of the short, chubby man.
— And that's me being polite.
— Who do you think you are?! another man spat.
But the dangerous gleam in Simé's eyes — and the way he lifted his hoe — was enough to silence them all.
— Simé of the Fallen Clan'… one of the men muttered to his companions. They say he's dangerous, no matter how harmless he looks.
— Let's… come back at the end of the month, another mumbled, backing away slowly, hands raised.
***
Kébéra — Marketplace
Two teenagers wandered through the bustling alleys of Kébéra's market. Their eyes locked on a horse standing idly by, a richly adorned saddle glimmering in the sunlight. Three black circles marked the yellow bands hanging from it, and the bridle bore the same signature designs.
— Dude, look at that saddle! It looks like one of the royal parade ones.
— It must be worth a fortune!
They exchanged a knowing glance and snickered. While one kept watch, the other quietly unbuckled the saddle… and bolted. Both vanished into a nearby alley, laughing breathlessly as they ran.
***
Returning from his errands, Ru froze. The saddle — it was gone.
In the distance, two figures were running off with a large object. His blood ran cold.
No… Not that saddle.
He dropped his bags at the horse's feet and bolted. His eyes flared with a white glow as his pace suddenly surged, leaving a streak of light behind him. He was in a trance.
Within seconds, he caught up. The two thieves didn't even notice him until he blocked their path.
— I believe you've got something that belongs to me, he said calmly.
— Oh, yeah? You think so?! one of them snarled, charging with a raised fist.
Ru sidestepped effortlessly and swept the man's legs. The other, still clutching the saddle, smirked.
— One more step and I'll toss it into the river!
Ru's face tightened. In an instant, he vanished from sight, then reappeared right in front of the man. A swift kick sent the thief sprawling, and the saddle slipped from his hands.
But before Ru could retrieve it, the first thief scrambled up, grabbed the saddle, and hurled it over the bridge.
The world seemed to slow. Ru's chest constricted.
Something snapped.
His fists came down in a storm of rage, leaving the two men bruised and groaning on the ground. Then he let out a sharp whistle.
His horse galloped to him at full speed.
Ru rode to the base of the bridge, eyes scanning the river below. Maybe he could still find the saddle — damaged, perhaps, or already carried away by the current. He tore off his shirt in one swift motion, revealing a sculpted torso and sharp-cut abs. Three black bands were tattooed around his left arm, the silent mark of his lineage.
He was about to dive when a familiar voice echoed behind him.
— Son.
Ru froze and turned.
— Dad? he blurted out, stunned to see Simé approaching — standing upright in a pirogue.
Ru frowned.
— What the hell are you doing here? And why are you in a canoe? he asked, half angry, half confused.
Simé shrugged casually, a wide grin spreading across his face.
— Caught this for you! It landed right on my head. Lucky, huh?
He proudly held up the saddle — perfectly intact. Ru grabbed it, relieved.
— So… what, you're fishing now? Or have you been following me?
Simé's laughter rippled across the water. Ru carefully placed the saddle back onto his horse, his gaze lingering on the three black circles embroidered on the yellow tassels.
— See that symbol? Simé asked.
— The crest of the Kisra clan, Ru replied.
— Exactly. The same one tattooed on your arm. It stands for greatness — for leadership. It's the very essence of who we are. Once, the Kisra ruled over Koéa. Don't ever forget that, on your path as a Black Warrior.
Ru stared silently at the sunlight dancing over the river's surface.
The Kisra clan…
Once, their people bore the name Wassangari — a powerful dynasty that ruled Koéa during the age of silence, when the Loas had fallen silent. But a rebellion led by native Ko tribes had driven the Wassangari into exile. Those of Simé's bloodline, unwilling to flee, were forced to abandon their royal name and take that of their patriarch instead: Kisra. The Wassangari clan was nowadays referred to by others as the Intermediate Dynasty or the Fallen Clan.
In the end, perhaps their fall from the throne wasn't a curse after all. To live simply, freely, without the weight of a kingdom, maybe that was its own kind of grace. Ru wasn't sure he was ready to carry the fate of an entire people.
— I already know all that, he said quietly. You've been teaching me since I was a kid. I'll never forget what that symbol means. But you seem to have — gambling has nothing to do with honor.
Simé winced, half amused, half ashamed.
— Oh, come on, Ru. Don't be so dramatic! I told you I'd fix it — and look, I did!
— If you say so, Ru sighed, smirking faintly. But don't expect me to pay your debts.
Despite everything, Ru knew he could count on his father. And for his part, he'd do anything to protect him.
His gaze softened, drifting toward memory. He saw again those simple, peaceful days — when their small family lived in harmony. He saw himself as a child, training with a wooden sword beside his sister Aika, under their father's watchful eye.
Aika…
She too had worn the same mark. The same symbol of greatness.