Bound by ancestry - Chapter 4: Chapter 4

The wind howled through the trees as they left Amaorie behind. The pendant, now warm against Adaeze’s chest, pulsed with a slow rhythm like a heartbeat. It was the second seal, and yet it felt heavier than any object its size should.
They said little on the return journey. Chidubem walked ahead, eyes scanning the trail, body tense. Adaeze followed silently, the pendant and staff secured in her cloth bag. The forest had grown darker, the light filtering through the leaves more reluctant. Something had changed.
Halfway back to Umuguma, Chidubem stopped. “We’re being followed.”
Adaeze had already known. She turned slowly. “It’s not a spirit.”
“No,” he agreed. “It’s a man.”
From behind the trees stepped a tall figure, broad-shouldered, wrapped in a faded brown cloak. His face was half-shadowed beneath a hood, but his presence filled the clearing like a storm cloud. He didn’t reach for a weapon. He didn’t need to.
“I warned your grandmother once,” the man said. “Not all things buried should rise.”
“Who are you?” Chidubem asked, voice sharp.
“I am the last of the Watchers,” the man replied. “My name is Igwe. And you’re walking into a fire your blood set in motion generations ago.”
Adaeze stepped forward. “If you truly watched, then you know the truth needs to return. The land is not at peace.”
Igwe’s jaw tightened. “Truth without order breeds chaos. The guardians were sealed for a reason. Spirits may whisper, but it is men who bleed.”
Chidubem raised his chin. “Then let them speak. We carry the staff and the seal. And we will not stop.”
Igwe’s eyes locked onto Chidubem’s, and for a moment, the forest seemed to freeze. Then the old man stepped aside.
“Then go. But know this—when the third seal is broken, the silence will not protect you.”
He disappeared into the trees, as silently as he came.
They reached Umuguma by nightfall. The village had changed. Doors were shut earlier. Candles burned in more windows than usual. Word had spread. Rumors of footsteps in the night, of masks whispering from shrines. Of lights in the forest.
Inside Mama Ukamaka’s compound, the old woman sat with her back to the door, her hands folded tightly.
“You brought it, didn’t you?” she asked without turning.
“Yes, Mama,” Adaeze replied. “We found the second seal.”
“Then we must prepare. The last seal is in Ihuoma’s Grove. But you will not find it as easily as the others.”
“What is there?” Chidubem asked.
“Your greatest test,” Mama Ukamaka said. “It is not guarded by spirits. It is guarded by yourself.”
Adaeze placed the pendant and staff beside the clay pot in the prayer corner. The room shimmered for a moment, and the flames in the oil lamps flickered blue.
“The land knows,” Mama Ukamaka said softly. “And it waits.”
That night, the dreams returned. For both of them.
Chidubem stood in a burning field, the soil scorched, the air filled with cries of ancestors. A man stood beside him—his grandfather—but younger, eyes full of regret.
“I only wanted to protect you,” the man said. “But I took too much. I silenced too many.”
Then the vision shifted. Adaeze stood at the mouth of a cave, surrounded by masks, each one calling her name. A woman stepped forward—the guardian, the one with silver eyes.
“You are the last voice. Do not falter now.”
They both awoke with the sunrise, breathless.
It was time to find the final seal.