Chapter 10: Broken Fates (3)

Leaving the blackened stone altar, a sense of emptiness settles within me, far more intense than any physical fatigue. The weight of the Mark on my forehead seems to have lessened, but in reality, I've just grown accustomed to it. I now understand more clearly the burden it represents. I tear a piece of fabric from my torn tunic and rip it into a long strip. With trembling hands, I fashion a makeshift band to cover the Mark. I don't want to see it right now. It has become a constant reminder of the decisions I've had to make, of the life I was forced to take.

I wrap the band around my head and tie it tightly, hiding the Mark beneath the fabric. It's a small reprieve, but enough to help me move forward. After everything that has happened, I know I must leave this cursed place. I force myself to walk, each step echoing in the empty cavern.

After what feels like an eternity, I find an exit. The daylight hits my eyes, making me squint. The outside air is cooler, lighter, but it doesn't soothe the nausea rising within me. I lean against a tree, the solid trunk under my trembling hand. The memories of what just happened swirl in my mind. Nyanja... I killed one of my own. A woman broken by the loss of her daughter, someone who shared my pain, my past.

Guilt and disgust overwhelm me. I can no longer hold back what I feel. I vomit, my body violently reacting to the weight of my actions. I stay there for a moment, my forehead pressed against the rough bark, my breath short. How did it come to this? How could I have killed one of my own, even if it was in self-defense?

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my troubled mind, but every thought brings me back to that moment, to the light fading from her eyes. I am not that kind of person, one who takes lives without thinking. And yet, that is exactly what I have done.

I continue walking, my mind clouded, my legs heavy. Each step is harder than the last. Exhaustion sets in, but I can't stop now. I need to find a way to keep going, a way to understand what I need to do next. The trees around me seem to close in, and I start losing track of time. The world becomes a blur, a mass of colors and shapes without meaning.

Then I hear voices. Laughter, joyful bursts of sound that contrast with the heaviness of my thoughts. I slowly approach, my feet dragging on the ground, and I see a group of young women gathered around a man. He is tall, taller than me, and seems a bit younger. His hair is braided into long dreadlocks that fall over his shoulders, giving his face a look that is both wild and charismatic. His skin is as dark as the bark of the oldest trees in the forest, but it seems to glow in the daylight.

He speaks with a natural ease, his hands moving fluidly to accompany his words. He laughs, a sound warm and full of energy, and the young women around him laugh with him, captivated by his undeniable charm. I don't hear what he's saying, but it's clear that he charms them with effortless grace.

I keep moving forward, too exhausted to care, but something about my state catches his attention. He lifts his head, his dark eyes fixing on me. The smile on his face slowly fades, replaced by an expression of curiosity and perhaps concern.

"Excuse me for a moment, ladies," he says in a soft but firm voice before walking toward me. His steps are quick, and I can see a sort of determination in his stride. When he reaches me, he looks at me intently, his face creased with worry.

"Hey, brother, you don't look well," he says, his voice full of warmth and a certain brotherhood. "Are you hurt? Do you need help?"

I look at him, too tired to respond immediately. He seems genuinely concerned, and it surprises me. In my state, I expected mistrust or indifference, not empathy. "I'm... I'm just tired," I manage to murmur. "I need to... rest."

The man nods, a reassuring smile appearing on his lips. "My name is Kwame. Come on, let me help you. We'll find you a place where you can rest for a bit."

Before I can protest, Kwame slips an arm under mine and helps me walk. He is stronger than he looks, and I let myself be guided, too weak to do anything else. The young women watch us leave, but I don't have the energy to worry about what they might think.

We soon reach a small clearing, hidden from prying eyes. Kwame helps me sit against a tree trunk and crouches in front of me, his face still filled with that unexpected care. "Wait here. I'll get some water."

He disappears into the woods, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I close my eyes, trying to focus on my breathing, to calm the chaos swirling in my head. A few minutes later, Kwame returns with a canteen of water. He hands it to me, and I drink greedily, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat.

"Thank you," I murmur, handing the canteen back to him.

Kwame sits down in front of me, legs crossed. "You're welcome, brother. It looks like you've been through some tough times. If you want to talk, I'm here."

I nod slowly, but I'm not yet strong enough to recount what I've just experienced. Kwame's presence is comforting, though, and I feel I can trust him. He has something warm and sincere about him, something that reminds me of what we lost in Eyoma—the camaraderie, the connection with others.

"I've done things... that I never thought possible," I finally say, my voice low, almost a whisper. "I had to fight. I had to kill... someone from my own people."

Kwame's eyes darken slightly, but he shows no judgment. Instead, he places a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I don't know what you've been through, brother, but I can see it's weighing on you. You're not alone, you know. Sometimes life pushes us to do things we never imagined. What's important is what we do afterward. How we keep moving forward."

His words are simple, but they touch me deeply. I nod, trying to let his words sink in. Kwame stays by my side, giving me time to regain my strength. I know I'm not yet ready to face everything that has happened, but at least I'm not alone anymore.

As I rest my head against the tree, exhausted but strangely comforted, I know I must continue. For Nyanja, for my brother, and for all that I still have to discover. And maybe, with Kwame by my side, I will find the strength to do so.