Wura

— Your problem is this, you know absolutely nothing.

Those words pounded in Wura’s skull like a dull drum. A brutal truth. Unyielding.

Since the Cursed Night, everything had changed. Reality itself had cracked, letting fragments of an unknown world seep through. Each hour seemed to drag her further from childhood. From ignorance.

“You must always remember, fear only exists where there is no understanding. And the Great rite frees you from that ignorance,” her mother had said, like a key handed to her just before the door shut.

She closed her eyes, inhaled slowly, deeply, as if the air itself could anchor her.

Her hurried steps beat the rhythm of her breath as she ran toward the port of Edo. The sea wind slapped her face, carrying spray, salt, and farewells. Ciel’s departure was today. And they had promised themselves one last moment, one last breath side by side before their paths diverged.

From afar, she spotted her silhouette, sitting alone on the dock. For once, Miss Marie wasn’t clinging to her like a shadow. Wura slowed as she drew closer, then sat down without a word. Around them, the port buzzed with life: the shouts of coconut vendors, the clinking of ship chains, the laughter of sailors, and that scent of the sea mingling with the wriggling of fish in crates.

Then Ciel spoke, like a bubble bursting.

— Great powers come with great responsibilities.

The words pierced her. Wura felt a shiver climb her spine. She knew. She knew what she was about to face. And yet, Ciel’s tone was calm. Steady. Like a tower before the storm.

A smile hovered on her lips.

— I remember our first meeting, she said. You stood between me and those students without thinking. Nobody asked you to. And two days later, you were the only one brave enough to challenge me in P.E. class, while the others wouldn’t even touch me.

She paused, her voice rougher.

— You’ve never been afraid of the unknown. That’s why… I’ve always felt at home with you.

A tender echo stirred in Wura’s chest. An invisible thread between them.

She smiled. Then her smile gently faded.

— I’ve made a decision too, she said.

Ciel turned to her, eyes full of expectation.

— I’ll go to Koéa. I’ll undergo the passage rite. I’ll find a way… to rid myself of my Loa.

Wura expected Ciel to protest. To strip away a Loa was no small matter.

But instead, Ciel gave a faint smile.

— If that’s your goal, then you must give it your best, Ciel replied, standing up.

She smoothed her saffron-yellow dress, dusted with salt and dirt. At that moment, Miss Marie approached, pointing to a small boat at the edge of the dock. Nothing grand. Just enough to cross the horizon.

— That’s ours. You can go put your things on board, she told Ciel.

When she left, Marie stayed behind. And her gaze landed on Wura with a new gravity.

— I need to confess something to you.

Wura raised her brows. She barely knew her. And yet there was an urgency in her voice that forced her silence.

— But first, a question. Ciel told me you’re Ko by origin. Do you have a Sin parent?

— No… both my parents are Ko… at least, I think so. Why?

Marie frowned.

— Strange. The man who tried to kidnap you wore the Purifiers’ crest. They hunt Kosin, hybrids born of a Ko and a Sin.

— The Kosin? Wura repeated, stunned.

She froze. That word.

The witch had spoken it too.

Kosin.

— It’s not a word to be used lightly, Marie explained. The Kosin carry a painful history. And their powers inspire fear. That’s why the Purifiers capture them. I don’t know what they do to them, but I know it’s not… for their good.

Silence fell.

Wura felt the ground give way beneath her feet.

Impossible.

Her mother, Ko through and through. But her father… his origins were unknown. And her grandmother, Yayi Shéna… could she have hidden such a truth?

— They must have been mistaken, she whispered, more to herself than to convince Marie.

— Perhaps, Marie said. But you must be careful. And learn to master your gifts. You have no control over your powers as a chosen one. Initiation is the only path. Even Ciel is vulnerable until she becomes a Hunsi. Your survival depends on it. I’m counting on you, Wura.

Familiar footsteps echoed on the wooden dock. Ciel was returning.

— All set, she said. Everything’s ready.

— Perfect. We can set sail.

Wura felt her throat tighten. An invisible knot. The kind of knot that never really comes undone.

Ciel was leaving. And with her, a chapter of their story was closing.

Suddenly, she was thrown back into the past. The school corridors. Ciel’s hair pulled by others. And she, Wura, stepping forward to defend her, not knowing that this girl would become the strongest person she would ever know.

One step. Then another.

She had moved forward onto the pier without realizing it.

But she wasn’t crying.

Instead, she raised her fist, just like at the start of each of their duels.

Ciel answered with a smile. And gently tapped her fist against hers.

A silent pact. A living memory.

Marie boarded the boat. Ciel followed.

— We’ll meet again, she whispered.

A promise. Etched in the moment.

And the boat slid slowly over the dark waters. Toward the unknown.