The last song of the ancestors

The morning sun was shining down on the area. A breeze stirred up the dust of the clay field. A few birds perched on dry leafy bushes. The silence was broken only by their sad songs and the echoes of a boy's footsteps.

Akachi walked towards the place agreed with Fenyang. He was going to start his maculelê training. However, the situation had changed. People were being threatened by the Central Command. As much as he wanted to reunite with his father and recover his memories, he wouldn't allow anyone to be hurt because of him.

He would never trust him again. He had broken his promise. His involvement with the local drug dealers had not been planned. It had become inevitable by a quirk of fate. He couldn't remain passive. He had to make choices. Otherwise, he would remain parked like an empty shell.

Fenyang appeared in front of him. He had a satisfied smile on his face. Akachi, on the other hand, had a hard look on his face.

"I thought you weren't coming, Akachi. Ready to suffer through my training, bro?"

"Fenyang, I need to talk to you. You told me to stay away from Central Command. Unfortunately, I couldn't follow your advice. They're threatening me and Spin Bomb. I'll have to help them in a war against the Fourth Estate. Please be my Ori Guardian."

The smile melted from Fenyang's face. He couldn't believe that Akachi had been co-opted. He felt a fury inside him, one he had never felt before. The boy's words made sense to him. The problem was that his disappointment was too great. He wouldn't pretend that everything was fine.

"Fuck you, kid! I told you not to get involved with those people. How can I believe you after that? Don't get me involved in this. Even if I wanted to become your Ori Guardian, I'm not your ancestor. I have no link to you. How do you intend to incorporate me?"

"He has a trump card, Fenyang."

Yasini sprang into the air and landed with one knee on the ground and the javelin on his shoulder. Behind him was Zuber. The two spirits looked at each other. A tension descended on the place.

"What are you doing here, Yasini, and who is this ugly man with you? You really are a manipulator. You want to turn me into a Central Command puppet using Akachi. You coward! You tried to blackmail me when I was alive, you didn't succeed. Now they want to blackmail me when I'm dead, they'll fail again, bro. Akachi, run with the Spin Bomb away from this damned place."

Fenyang turned his back on his interlocutors. In an impulse of desperation, Akachi knelt on the ground and bowed his head. Zuber found the scene pathetic. He would never respect a medium who behaved like that.

"Please, Fenyang. I need your help. If the two of us run away, Central Command will kill Okafor."

The maculelê fighter stopped. Okafor had helped him when he arrived at Chrome Hill. He lent him money for the rent. He helped finance the sports center. He tried to clean up his act with the Central Command. The death of that old man would be a heavy blow for him.

He turned his eyes to Yasini and Zuber. They were blazing with anger, more than that, sharpness. He remembered when he first arrived in the slum. No one had given him a bad reception. On the contrary, they had helped him when he needed it most. He had dreamed of giving back to that community through sport. Maculelê had transformed his life too.

Fenyang didn't come from a clan of mediums. These traditional and influential families had little relationship with maculelê practitioners. The martial art was passed down from generation to generation, but it was never closed to those who wanted to learn the fighting style.

After the maculelê schools were closed down by the state as subversive, the practitioners dispersed. They were purged from Ilu Nla. Some became criminals. The armed forces included some in their ranks. Only Fenyang hadn't lost his faith in the transformative power of martial arts.

"Akachi, I see no evil in you. But even the best is corrupted in this world. When I was alive, I was more idealistic, you know? Now I'm kind of discouraged by everything. Considering the environment, we live in, it's very difficult to walk without stepping in shit. So be it! I agree to be your Ori Guardian. I can't be selfish like those guys who only know how to live by spilling each other's blood."

Akachi rose from the ground. He pulled out the two metal sticks. He looked more and more determined.

"I appreciate that. I didn't want to involve you in my problems, or use maculelê for that matter. If I don't act, I risk dying or putting innocent people at risk. My journey can't end before I get my memories back. I have to find someone again."

Yasini came up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He felt a strong emission of Axé from the boy.

"The maculelê, added to the incorporation of the Ori Guardian, will strengthen you in a way you've never experienced before. According to Chief Kinyua, we have less than a month. The Fourth Estate is preparing a massive attack. Our scouts in the Burned Circuit Complex say they're going to wage an all-out war…"

"Wait a minute, crocodile skin. Don't misunderstand. I'm not going to obey you. I just want to save people from a useless death. I'm not doing this out of heroism, or for you, Akachi. I'm sorry. There's something holding me back here on this earth. Maybe it's that feeling of an incomplete mission."

"So be it, Fenyang! Your motives don't matter to us. Just do what we ask, and everyone's life will be spared."

No way! You'll never leave us alone. I'm going to take advantage of this situation and save everyone.

Akachi broke out in a cold sweat. He had planned something risky: fleeing during the war between the criminal factions. He had to save Okafor and Spin Bomb. He depended on Fenyang's help. He didn't trust Yasini and Zuber, or the Central Command. He didn't know why he had ended up on Chrome Hill. Maybe he had been saved, or maybe he had been rejected. Doubt consumed him.

The desire to know the truth was his fuel. He just couldn't die there. Sometimes he felt sick. It felt like he was using people to get what he wanted. He could leave everything behind and start a life somewhere else. But who could guarantee that they weren't after him? From this perspective, time would not be a cure, but a burden.