THE LAST KEEPER

Chapter 308. THE KAI’S POV II

"Then you will be killing the wrong man." The kai finally spoke. His voice was calm and collected even in this situation.

"The wrong man? I asked him to call a person from the council to give me the chief and last N’folu a warm welcome, but I must have misspelled it because instead of a warm welcome, a fireball welcomed me, and dare I say it was too warm, I could have thought he wanted me to burn alive." The boy said,

So the fireball was the reason he had been angered.

"Only the city lord gave an order for the fire cannons." Zifara said. He could not let the commander die for no reason.

"So that is who gave the command? Well then, I am thankful for you stopping me, but will you be kind enough to call the city Lord so I can teach him a lesson on etiquette?" The boy’s wrath had surged.

This was bad, but Zifara couldn’t hand over the boy either.

"I can’t do that, but my messenger bird dropped a message that you were all the gatekeepers’ prisoners. If someone comes to your house and holds your child hostage, then you will get angry, won’t you?" Zifara said as calmly as he could. He just hoped the boy was reasonable. After all, he had stayed in the south for a year, and in that time, he had not sought trouble.

"Are you also calling me a stranger, Kai of the south? I almost thought you were smarter and would recognize a blade only the N’folu can wield. Or should I test it on your neck?" The killing intent grew. Zifara might have appeared calm, but he had never felt so close to death as in that moment. The matter was fragile and needed to be handled with care and absolute calmness.

"I have not said anyone is wrong or anyone is right." The general said. "And neither have I said you are not a N’folu."

"So you neither deny nor accept?" There was disappointment in the boy’s voice.

"Now then, if you want to stop me, I think we should take this fight away from the city if you don’t want to have to bury half of it by the end of it." The words were not a bluff. Then the little angry growl of a beast. Zifara could not deny that fact either. The weapon had only sheathed after he recognized the boy as N’folu. There was no way out tonight. If he denied that the boy was N’folu, then Thazir could pay. Even though he was not totally convinced or refused to accept him, tonight had been the only way out. Then the cry had followed, and Zifara had felt the pain as deep as the killing intent.

The boy meant to come say goodbye. Even Zifara was touched by his grief. That was no doubt a howl of pain. He was even more grateful that he had accepted him. The pain he carried could have consumed Thazir and everyone.

"All this time... I thought the South no longer had a place waiting for me." The boy had howled. With the way he had fought, Zifara could have sworn he was mad. Perhaps maddened with grief, it seemed. "I came to say goodbye to N’folu. I have been so unfilial not sending you all off all these years!!" He cried. A tear dropped right in front of Zifara.

"I didn’t expect to be welcomed." He added, and there was sniffing behind him and somewhere in the crowd of soldiers. "I was willing to shed more blood to come pay you my respect. How unfilial of me... to wield a weapon and call myself a N’folu." Sagiri’s body shook with grief. Grief filled the place. Such grief Zifara had never witnessed. The whole of N’faya had grieved for years.

They had hoped to find even one survivor of the Nfolu, and when one had claimed to be. Even after he had proven to be Zifara beyond any reasonable doubt, everyone, and even he, had still doubted him. How very painful to be rejected by your people after losing your own clan. Zifara felt so much guilt at that moment.

Silence stretched as the boy shook with grief but fought to stand still.

"Now I can come and finally do my filial duties, oh N’folu, even though I am an unworthy descendant. You will not be forgotten as long as I am alive. I can finally dance for you under the stars and say goodbye..." It was just painful to watch. The blades had long snapped shut, free of any fighting intent.

"But the echo archive was destroyed that night," Moga said. He and the captain were among the first to arrive after the massacre.

"Its holder was destroyed. The echo could not easily be destroyed. What I saw today is nothing short of what the N’folu could do. You also saw that."

"Could it be that the boy is now the..." Moga started asking.

"Don’t speak of such a thing. That would be a dangerous thing to presume, Moga. We have been friends since we were boys. You do know what to say and what not to. But still, that will now change the entire situation." Zifara said. He had thought of that himself, but he dared not presume to assume.

"The sandshade of the last keeper remains silent, doesn’t he?" Moga asked.

"Even more reason to not assume. I can bet my life that that boy has come to collect the Sandshade. The man has stayed alive for years, and yet he has not opened his mouth to say anything. I believe he knows more than all of us, and someone in the council knows that too. There is something I wish to know, too." Zifara said.

"What if you are wrong?"

"I’d better be wrong on this."

"What are you going to do? The boy demands a meeting in a week."

"You worry too much. Word travels quickly, and what happened at the gate will be the topic tomorrow. As bees flock to honey, they will come looking for me. They have always been threatened by me. If they think I have a boy of such abilities in my hands, they will fall over their feet to kill him or gain his favour." Zifara said.

"What do you think the council will decide?" Moga asked, finally stopping his pacing. Of course, his master had not held such a position for many years because he was stupid. He was choosing to play a long game. If the boy proved not to be N’folu, which was almost impossible, then he could have nothing to lose, and if the boy was N’folu, he could still have nothing to lose. In fact, he stood to gain.

"That, we will have to wait and see. This is going to be interesting." Zifara shook his head, a small smile taking over his face.