Sunrise painted the dunes golden as we broke camp. After the long night of omens and whispered ancestors, the morning light felt like a blessing on my skin. I stood with Amina and Jabari beneath the Old Baobab's shade, watching the sun rise. In that quiet moment, day banishing night, I drew strength from the sight. However brief, it was a promise that darkness never lasts.
Nkiru joined us as the dew still clung to the grass. In daylight she seemed less mysterious sage and more kindly elder, though the power in her eyes remained. We shared a simple breakfast of millet cakes and sweet baobab tea. The normalcy of eating together steadied me. It reminded us what we were fighting for: mornings like this, lives full of small joys that Nyos would extinguish if we failed.
As we ate, others began to arrive at the clearing – travelers and guardians drawn by the coming eclipse. Word had spread through desert whispers and forest drums of the threat rising in the sky. By mid-morning, about a half-dozen warriors and seers from distant lands stood with us under the baobab. Some I recognized from past journeys; others were new faces, each bearing unique strengths. A broad-shouldered warrior from the eastern hills bore a curved blade that glinted with sunlight. A desert nomad with mechanical goggles and constellation tattoos quietly unfurled a map of the heavens. A healer from a far oasis murmured a prayer under her breath. Different tribes, different talents – yet the same resolve in every eye.
We formed a circle, sunlight filtering through the leaves like scattered blessings. Nkiru raised her staff and the murmurs fell silent. "Brothers and sisters," she said, voice clear, "the eclipse draws near. Nyos the Devourer moves to strike." I saw jaws tighten and fists clench at the name. "But we stand in the light of day to vow he will not prevail."
One by one, our allies offered oaths and blessings – swearing by sun and sky, invoking the ancestors, pledging guidance and strength. When my turn came, I stepped forward. "Nyos threatens all that we love," I said, voice ringing in the morning air. "I may be the one blessed with Earth's gravity in my veins, but I am nothing alone. With your strength beside mine, we will stand unbroken. For the sake of our ancestors and descendants yet unborn, we will prevail."
A chorus of affirmations met my words. In that moment I felt a spark of hope catching fire among us. We were so different – men and women of varied tribes, tech-savvy nomads and traditional warriors – unified by resolve. This was the living embodiment of light: not just sunlight, but the light of community driving back despair. I felt honored and humbled to be part of it.
Nkiru traced a circle in the dirt at our feet, marking the cardinal directions. At the circle's center she drew an eye-like symbol – the eclipse. "Nyos's power will peak at totality," she said. "He will try to breach the veil fully at a place where the sun and moon align directly overhead at noon. There is an ancient site called Ntanda – the Navel of the Earth – near the equator. There, the barrier between realms is thin."
I traded a glance with Amina. We both recalled the legends: Ntanda was said to be where the sky first kissed the earth, a place of power. It made sense that Nyos would choose it to tear through. Jabari stepped forward, brow furrowed. "Then that is where we go," he declared. "We have two days to reach it."
Zahra tapped the side of her goggles and projected a small glowing map into the air – a hologram of the continent marked with a pulsing point. "Ntanda lies across the Great Rift," she noted, voice quick and confident. "By foot it would take a week from here. But," she flashed a slight smile, "we did not come unprepared."
At her signal, two of her companions brought forth a rolled carpet-like apparatus from a pack. Unfurling it revealed a lightweight skiff with patterned solar sails. Amina's eyes widened at the ingenious craft. I too was impressed – it was a blend of ancient design and futuristic tech, painted with symbols of wind spirits. Zahra ran her hand along its side. "A solar skimmer. It will carry several of us swiftly on the sun's currents. Others have mounts or other means. We ride together and meet at Ntanda by tomorrow night."
The practicality of her plan brought relief – travel would not hinder us. We divided into groups for the journey: Zahra and a few would sail the skimmer, Chidike and two warriors had hoverbikes humming with stored sunlight, and Jabari, Amina, Safiya and I would accompany Nkiru in her wagon drawn by a pair of sturdy biomechanical oxen. It wasn't the fastest option, but as the guardian I needed to conserve my strength. Plus, Nkiru insisted her presence might be needed to counter Nyos's tricks on the way.
Before we parted, we joined hands one last time under the baobab. Safiya led a prayer in a blend of languages – Hausa, Swahili, Zulu – so that each of us heard familiar words. We asked the sun to guide us by day and the stars by night. I felt heat radiate through our linked hands as if the sun itself granted a fraction of its strength to our cause.
Our convoy set off by late morning. The sun climbed higher, hot but reassuringly bright overhead. I sat beside Nkiru on the wooden wagon as its mechanical oxen trod the red earth in a steady rhythm. Amina walked alongside for a while, spear-staff in hand and her dark green cloak fluttering. She looked pensive. In the flurry of plans I hadn't truly checked on her heart. I reached out and touched her shoulder gently. "We'll make it right," I said. She gave me a grateful look. "I know," she replied quietly. "Sometimes I just… I feel them watching me too. My mother, my brothers. I want them to see that their loss meant something." Her voice quavered, and I felt a surge of protectiveness and admiration. Even carrying such grief, Amina stood ready to face the coming storm.
Ahead of us, Jabari rode one of the hoverbikes in turns with Chidike. Every so often he'd circle back with a grin, urging the mechanical beast faster as if to challenge the wind. His enthusiasm drew a laugh from me. Trust Jabari to find moments of levity on the eve of battle. He caught my laugh and saluted playfully before zooming ahead again, scouting the terrain. Through our bond of friendship, I sensed his attempt to keep our spirits up. Typical Jabari – ever the brave heart, refusing to let gloom take hold.
By afternoon, our caravan crossed drylands into a region of rolling dunes. Heat shimmered in waves. Nkiru dozed beside me, saving her energy. The ride's rocking and the monotony of sand made my mind drift. I found myself pondering what awaited at Ntanda. Would Nyos arrive in some terrible form? Would I feel the weight of his gravity press down as we fought? I flexed my fingers unconsciously, noticing small stones on the path tremble and roll away as our wagon passed. It had started happening more often lately – my power stirring of its own accord, reacting to my emotions. I wasn't fully in control, I realized. A pang of worry struck me: if fear or anger got the better of me, might I inadvertently harm my allies?
I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing, recalling the calming presence from the baobab grove. Center yourself, I heard my father's memory echo. Remember, you anchor the Earth as much as it anchors you. Inhale, exhale. The tremble in the stones ceased. When I opened my eyes, Amina was watching me from the side of the wagon, concern in her gaze. I managed a reassuring nod.
Suddenly, a violent shudder rippled through the ground. The oxen bellowed in alarm and halted. Sand cascaded from a nearby dune as if shaken by a giant's hand. I leapt down from the wagon. Ahead, Jabari had skidded to a stop on the hoverbike, scanning the horizon. Then I felt it – a wrenching tug within my chest, as though gravity itself hiccuped. For an instant, the weight on my shoulders vanished; I was lifted to my toes, stones and sand grains levitating around us. Amina cried out in surprise as she too began to float upward.
Just as quickly, the invisible grip released and we were slammed back to the ground. I caught myself, heart hammering. Nkiru gasped and clutched the side of the wagon, clearly disturbed. The oxen groaned uneasily. In the sky, the sun dimmed as a thin cloud – or was it something else? – slid across its face.
Nyos. It had to be. A chill ran through me despite the desert heat. That brief loss of gravity had Nyos's foul signature all over it – a preview of the chaos he intended to unleash. Jabari came running back, breathless. "Is everyone alright?" he called. Amazingly, none of us were badly hurt, just shaken. Amina dusted sand off her cloak, jaw set in anger. "He's toying with us now," she muttered. Safiya helped Nkiru down from the wagon. The elder's expression was grim. "A warning," Nkiru said, steadying her voice. "Or perhaps a taunt. Nyos knows we are coming."
I exchanged looks with my friends and the gathered allies as they regrouped. No one panicked; if anything, the incident hardened our resolve. "Let him try to scare us," Chidike growled, re-sheathing his blade. "It changes nothing. We press on." There was a chorus of agreement.
I knelt and touched the ground, focusing. The earth felt unsettled, like a living creature that had flinched in pain. Under my palm the sand still quivered. I sent a silent reassurance – we are coming, hold firm – unsure if the Earth could sense my intention the way I often sensed its. Then I rose and addressed the group. "We know what we're up against," I said, louder than before. "Nyos would shake the very ground beneath us. But we stand together, and we stand for the light. We will not be swayed."
A cheer of solidarity went up. Even quiet Safiya raised her fist to the sky in defiance. Amina met my gaze, her eyes fierce. In that moment, seeing everyone united and unafraid, my doubt melted away. Whatever tremors or tricks Nyos cast at us, we would answer them with unyielding will.
We resumed our journey with renewed urgency. The sun edged westward, turning the dunes amber. By nightfall we aimed to make camp at an oasis, and by tomorrow night, reach Ntanda. As our caravan pressed on, I could almost sense Nyos's gaze somewhere beyond the horizon, watching. "We're coming for you," I whispered under my breath, a promise carried on the hot wind trailing behind us. The sun blazed on, our steadfast ally, guiding us forward.