Vai and Mahu Kaeo crested the grassy hills that overlooked his home island’s beach. The island’s atmosphere was suffocated by a heavy blanket of tension as the ships drew towards the shore.

Most of the women and children had been ushered towards the village, encouraged to stay inside. Meanwhile, the men had armed themselves. They didn’t look ready to attack, but their guard was up, as if expecting it from the Nikan.

“By the gods, not again," Kaeo hissed as they both set eyes on the Nikan mega-canoes. There had to be at least fifteen of those vessels, but Vai’s mind was too occupied to count.

“What do you mean again?” Vai furrowed his brow. "Mahu, have they been here before?”

Kaeo sighed, but nodded. "The Empire has wanted to annex our islands ever since Rarotonga accepted vassalage under them. I assume they’ve sent this many to intimidate us.”

Vai cursed. "What do we do?”

“We will simply reject them again," Kaeo said. "They are more a nuisance than anything. They cannot afford to hurt anyone.”

Vai hesitated for a moment, considering if that assessment was true. “War with the Westerners and Jambudvipa already has them occupied, right?”

Kaeo nodded. "And if they harm us, a good portion of other tribes and islands have expressed they are willing to form a coalition to defend each other from Nikan.”

Vai followed his teacher as they descended down to the beach along with the other people of the village. Najeem had notably concealed his face with a black cloth wrap as he and Shahla met them.

The junks dropped their anchors a ways out before lowering smaller watercraft that rowed their way to shore.

A young man with tan skin, but narrow Nikan eyes, in lamellar armor and accompanied by another man in elaborate silk robes stepped onto the beach. No Aotearoan made any moves. Stillness among his people was usually out of reverence. But there was no respect here. Only tension.

“Should we not at least offer them the Powhiri?” Vai whispered.

“They killed one of our warriors last time we tried to greet them," Kaeo grimaced. "It was an honest mistake.”

“People of Ao tei rou e 46,” the man in rich silk announced in broken Aotearoan while Nikanizing their land’s name. "We of the great Empire of Nikan come on behalf of the Golden Emperor, Lord of Heaven, Gongsun Xuanyuan. He graciously extends his hand to those less fortunate in an offer of protection and friendly aid in exchange for a meager tribute to aid a well-met friend in his endeavors against those that would threaten our ways and yours.”

“Begone from our shores, word weaver,” Kaeo said, stepping forward. “We are in a time of festivity and would ask to not be bothered with such matters until after the celebration. We cannot accept your offer, as we have stated multiple times. Good day to you.”

“I encourage that you truly reconsider as we asked of you last time,” the man in silk said, raising his chin up at Kaeo. “Our emperor will not allow this rejection to become a humiliation of him and his great house.”

“You’d best listen to him, old Mahu,” the man in lamellar said in much better Aotearoan. “We won’t be taking ‘no’ so graciously.”

“We have nothing more to consider,” Kaeo insisted. “You cannot make us accept bondage to your emperor’s leash. Now begone!”

“Told you they wouldn’t listen, Jiang.” The man in lamellar shook his head and sighed before turning to Vai and his people. "You wanna refuse? Fine. Here’s how things are going to happen. You’ll have a few minutes to prepare. After that, we will make an example of you.”

___________________________________________________________________

Shahla let herself be dragged away by Lokapele as Mahu Kaeo and the Nikan ambassador spoke. She hurried to keep pace with Lokapele as the Lady of FIre insistently pulled on her wrist.

“I need you to help me with something," Lokapele said. "Have that knife of yours ready. Those Nikan are attacking.”

“What? Then we can’t fight them, we need to leave!” Shahla protested.

“What, do you think they’re here for you?” Lokapele asked. "You want your boat to still be intact, right?”

“Well...yes," Shahla muttered.

“Then you’ll help me save some lives or I’ll trap you and your Asasiyun here with us,” Lokapele said as she kicked a fighting staff with a stone point at the end into her hands and grabbed a torch while they passed through the village.

They started onto a path through the jungle surrounding the huts, getting far enough from the beach to barely see the Nikan junks.

“But why do you need my help?” Shahla asked.

“I can sense the power in your veins. We both hold gods within us.”

“You can tell?”

“Of course I can," Lokapele said.

“Look, I’ve only had these Scars for a month at best. And I’ve only ever used them once!”

“You’ll never learn to use them if you don’t practice.” Lokapele continued with haste through the jungle.

Shahla sighed, but hurried after the Lady of Fire as she ran inland towards a volcano at the center of the island. The jungle surrounding it wasn’t that dense, but Shahla still found herself tripping over rocks and branches.

Lokapele had a graceful agility to each of her movements that seemed to be nearly inhuman.

The terrain started to become steeper as the jungle transitioned into the volcano’s rocky face. Greenery and mud became ash and sharp volcanic rocks. Clusters of obsidian replaced brightly colored blooms.

Shahla heard the sharp echoes of clashing weapons and screams as they started up the volcano’s slopes. She glanced back and saw that the Nikan had invaded the beach. The islanders had taken up arms, but with the amount of forward momentum the Nikan line had, it wasn’t shaping up to be a very even fight.

“They’re attacking!” Shahla exclaimed.

“I know! So let’s hurry!” Lokapele shouted.

Footfalls behind them grabbed Shahla’s attention. Several shadowy figures burst from the jungle at incredible speed, rushing past her and towards Lokapele, identifying her as the bigger threat.

“About time you fuckers showed yourselves!” the woman shouted. She discarded her torch and smacked a Nikan man dressed in pure black out of the air with a solid crack of her staff. The oddly shaped chain weapon in his hand clattered to the ground. "They’re Fuso Shinobi! Keep your guard up!”

Shahla drew her knife and ran to Lokapele’s side.

But realistically? She saw how those warriors had moved. They were as nimble and quick as Najeem. She couldn’t fight them.

“Steady your hand, girl!” Lokapele hissed. "Use your Scars!”

The advice was slightly comforting, but ultimately meaningless when she remembered that she had absolutely no idea how to ‘use’ her Scars. Lokapele rushed forward with her staff, matching the defending warriors’ swiftness.

Shahla dove to the ground as one of them nearly slit her throat with a swipe of metal claws attached to the underside of his palm. Her tumble ripped her headscarf away, unveiling her Scars. They burned under the moonlight, glowing a blinding silver.

She staggered, groaning in pain. Her face burned so hot it was cold.

Last time she had the chance to use these, she barely got out alive. But something in her determined that this time would be different. Her heartbeat calmed as her fear started to wane.

The pain calmed a little. Without it, she felt the power she had. It chilled her veins with a cold she’d never felt.

The warriors attacked again. But Shahla could evade them. They were slower.

No. She was faster. Or rather...her mind was. It was as though she could almost foresee her attackers’ movements. The premonitions stayed in time with her labored breaths.

Shahla pulled on the power inside her and forced it out of her. A wave of soft silver light caused the warriors exposed to the night sky to move sluggishly. Lokapele took advantage of the opportunity and defeated those that surrounded her. The warriors hidden by shadows of the jungle dared not step out of their protection.

Lokapele had no trouble dealing with them, given their restricted movement.

Shahla collapsed to her knees once the last one was dealt with. She hadn’t expected it to be so exhausting.

“We’re not done yet," Lokapele said, pulling Shahla up to her feet. "Just a little further.”

The heat of the volcano’s magma was starting to be rather apparent to Shahla as they continued up its side. Hot wind, reeking of sulfur and ash hissed out of narrow vents. A low rumble caused a nearby lava pool to pop. Shahla would’ve cried out, were the air not so horrid to breathe.

“How is...the volcano...going to help?” Shahla asked, her sleeve muffling her voice, trying not to huff the toxic fumes.

“Like this," Lokapele said, barely seeming encumbered by the acidic winds. "We’re close enough.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, discarding her staff and reaching her arms out towards the volcano’s peak.

What Shahla had once believed to be tattoos along her sides and stomach glowed bright orange. They were Plague Scars.

Shahla staggered back as a humanoid figure lurched out from Lokapele’s back like a ghost. The figure had skin made of stone, rife with cracks that revealed a layer of molten lava underneath. It looked almost exactly like Lokapele, save for the skin and the hair made of fire.

The ground beneath them started to rumble.

“Are you making the volcano erupt?” Shahla exclaimed over the tremors in the earth.

“Don’t worry! I’m in control!” Lokapele assured her.

Clouds of thick ash started to spew from the mouth of the volcano.

“How diffused is the line between our side and theirs?” Lokapele asked.

Shahla turned, finding that she could see the entire beach from here. There was still a fine divide between the warriors and Nikan soldiers.

“It’s solid!” Shahla called over the rumbling volcano.

“Good!” Lokapele turned and cast her hands downwards towards the beach.

Shahla spared a moment to look back at the volcano just in time to see a giant sphere of molten earth shoot from the clouds of ash and hurtle towards the invaders. She quickly squeezed her eyes shut before they started to water from the volcano’s fumes.

“What the hell are you?” Shahla asked, able to express her awe at Lokapele’s manipulation of the earth.

“The same thing you are.” Lokapele swung her fist down again, sending another ball of lava at the enemy. "A Belu.”

Belu. Why did that word sound familiar? It was close to the Qahtanad word for ‘Master’.

“Do I also have a ghost inside me?”

“It’s called a Shedim. You can ask whatever questions you want later. The main forces of the Nikan are hitting the beach," Lokapele said. "We should help them.”

“I don’t think I have the energy in me to use my power again,” Shahla said. “Or much of anything else.”

“Get out of here and go help the people hide.” Lokapele stamped the ground, causing a slab of rock to abruptly shoot out of the ground. She broke it off. "I’m gonna keep going.”