The air in the sacred grove of the elders was thick with incense.
The flickering flames of the seven oil lamps danced as if whispering secrets.
Mohandria stood between Theo and Kimberly, her palm resting gently on their joined hands.
Around them, the African sorcerers moved in circles, chanting ancient incantations, their voices rising like waves against the dark forces closing in on them.
"The spirits are restless," Mohandria said softly, her eyes rolling shut.
"The bond between you two is strong… but the darkness is coming, and it will test every part of your soul."
Theo didn't flinch. He held Kimberly's hand tighter, his grip strong yet trembling beneath his calm.
Kimberly, standing firm beside him, kept her gaze on the flame before her.
"I've seen it too," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"A force that doesn't come through battle, but through deception... through weakness from within."
